Chapter 17 (part 1) Thanks for patience and all your input on moving forward!
Chapter 17
“But in his own letters the creature states that if he were to take a name, it would be the name of his father. His creator. The creature’s namelessness is a reflection of Victor’s coldness and rejection. I would argue that by naming him, and specifically naming him for Victor, the audience is sympathizing with the creature.” Claire counters, lounging back in the rising steam, her ample and exquisite tits out, legs sprawled across Wes’s lap. “Literature is a living thing. Mary Shelley didn’t write a child’s story of good versus evil, it’s more complex than that. She challenged people’s perceptions her entire life. The audiences’ collective naming of the creature, and therefore identifying the real protagonist and antagonist of the story, is a resounding support for the spirit and intent of her work.”
“I’d argue that naming the monster isn’t necessarily a reflection of collective recognition. People are way stupider than you give them credit for.” Wes replies, followed by a long draw from his beer. “They’re probably just reflexively assuming the iconic character is the one the story is named for. Uh oh, speak of the devil.”
Wes opens his arms in welcome as Mikey, Sid and I approach the hot tub. After Halloween, Claire and Wes went from friends who occasionally fuck to a couple that occasionally pauses their debates to fuck. It’s been six weeks since the party and the Psi Nu house has become a regular hangout for all of us. Claire and Wes dating is a big part of that, but we’ve been getting closer to a lot of the other brothers. Though none of us have pledged (and I don’t know if I ever would) they’ve been really enthusiastic about us coming around all the time.
“Friends of the House.” Sid calls it.
Oh, yeah, that’s some more news. The day after the party, in the sober daylight, Mikey and I were able to unpack some of the more, um, let’s say questionable decisions from the night before. We were lucky we ended up meeting Sid, instead of some rohypnol packing predator. Once we agreed not to make decisions like that under the influence of anything ever again, we noticed that, as it turns out, impulsively pulling a third person into our sexual dynamic is something we both really, really enjoyed.
“So what would that mean for us?” Mikey asked, a bit sheepishly. “Like, the us part of us.”
“I mean, you’re my boyfriend, right?” I started, keeping eye contact to try and feel out Mikey’s reaction.
“Yes! I mean, yes, please…?” Mikey replied, obviously doing the same.
“Good. Ok. Right now, I wouldn’t want to do anything sexual without you around. And I wouldn’t want to do anything romantically with anyone else at all.” I said truthfully.
“Oh, fuck, phew.” Mikey breathed out a sigh of relief. We both did. Together. Whatever comes next, we were doing it together.
So we talked it out (with some googling, and texting Claire and Jack, and joining a sub reddit or two). Every detail. What we’d be down to explore, what our hard limits are, non-verbal cues to let the other person know we want to stop or feel unsafe. And what’s funny is, we ended up closer than ever. Fuck, we even talked about things we might want to try one-on-one. I told Mikey about fantasies I’ve never spoken aloud before that morning. And he told me about some of his. I loved it. And not just because his fantasies were hot as fuck. Now that we have a deeper understanding of what we both want, it feels more secure.
Turns out Sid was down to be our occasional third, and otherwise is just a great friend. And when I say Sid was down, I mean he fell to his knees and sucked us both off on the spot. And fuck can Sid suck a cock, worshipfully wrapping his mouth around my thick shaft and working my nuts with his freehand as he fondles his own massive balls. Popping between Mikey’s jaw stretching monster and my hefty piece with perfect rhythm. Chef’s kiss. If he had a rating page I’d give 5 stars. And I admit, we hook up in Sid’s room about half the times we’re over.
Now it’s the first week in December and Sid texted inviting us over for some hot tub time before finals. It’s been cold, but not enough to snow yet. Jack wasn’t kidding when he said the Works gets brutally cold in the winter, and I admit the furnace at home has been struggling to keep the basement above 55. That adds up to a lot of me hunched over a sewing table and Mikey lifting in cold conditions, and our bodies could use a hot soak.
“Well if it isn’t Doctor Frankenstein and his monster, come to argue the merits of proper nomenclature with us?” Wes greets us as we approach. “Claire was just being far too kind to the unwashed masses.”
“And Wes was just losing his chance to get any tonight by resorting to classist reductive reasoning.” Claire laughs, tilting her head at Wes. “Join us. The water is lovely.”
We all start the process of stripping in the backyard of a frat house, dancing to keep as warm as possible while pulling sweaters over heads and shimmying out of jeans. Mikey is wearing the square-cut trunks I made for him, and I love seeing his epic meat outlined in the pouch. I see Sid glance over and enjoy the sight as well, and I smile knowing how much it turns Mikey on to be looked at exactly like that.
“I want a swimsuit like that.” Sid muses.
“I want a cock like that!” Wes calls out from the hot tub.
I snort-laugh. Sid nods in agreement. Mikey’s looking down, but I can see the smile quirking the side of his perfect mouth. I turn to Wes, stripped down to my white trunks. They’re not skin tight, but they are short. Like gym shorts from an 80’s slasher movie. I built a snug pouch into the band to keep my soft dick from flopping out the leg openings, and the resulting bulge is bouncy and full.
“And you’ve never seen it hard.” I say, giving Wes a wink and holding my hands in front of me, about a foot apart.
“Fuck.” Says Wes.
“Ow. No thank you.” Says Claire, her eyes wide, “I tap out around there.” She explains, pointing to around the 7 inch mark. Mikey looks over my shoulder.
“Well that rules Adam out, too.” He chuckles, climbing into the tub. I watch the globes of his ass wrestle in the suit as he steps his massive legs over the side of the jacuzzi.
“Goddammit. Am I small?” Wes cries out to the universe, standing up and raising his hands in exasperation.
“No, Adam’s just surprisingly well hung.” Sid laughs, climbing in behind Mikey and splashing Wes as he passes. He does look kinda dorky in his board shorts, even though they hug his ass well.
“I’d be happy to make you a suit. Something that really emphasizes your assets.” I laugh through chattering teeth. I’m now shivering and blushing simultaneously, still pulling off my last sock. I’m always the last in the tub. Probably because I take the time to drape each item of clothing over one of the patio chairs carefully before moving on to the next. What can I say, fashion demands sacrifice. I climb in quickly, settling in between Mikey and Sid, letting the warm water and the warm, hard bodies heat me up in unison.
“Dude, seriously? That would be awesome. I can pay you.” Sid says, clearly digging the idea.
“Mmmhmm. I accept trade, you know.” I flirt back.
Claire gasps, “Shit! That reminds me, I still owe Jack twenty bucks for our Halloween bet.”
“Dude, I’ve seen your dick, you’re not small by any means.” Sid assures Wes.
“Aw, thanks man.” Wes says earnestly, then “I’ve seen your porn searches, you’ve got high standards for size.”
“Wait, go back,” I say, refocusing the conversation on Claire “You made a bet with Jack? Spill, girl.”
“Oh, it was weeks ago. Jack just said everyone hooks up at Psi Nu parties…”
“Thank you, we do our best.” Wes interjects.
“And I said you and Mikey were too freshly together back then to tag anyone else into the love fest.” Claire finishes.
“Huh.” I reply, “I may need to mull that over for a minute.”
“Surprised the hell out of us, too.” Mikey says to Claire in a mock whisper.
“All good? You two might be my favorite couple ever, so I’m kinda invested.” Claire asks, leaning toward Mikey and I. I admit, I love the way her breasts drape across the top of the water when she leans in.
“All good.” I say, taking Mikey’s hand over the water and displaying the gesture for her appraisal.
“We’re together, and we’re down to clown, as a couple.” Mikey specifies.
“He’s been trying out different phrases to describe our dynamic. I like that one.” I explain.
“OOh, fun. Lemme try.” Claire says, never one to back off a writing challenge. “Hmmm. Monogamish?”
“Too Millennial.” Wes cringes. “How about PolySlamorous?”
“No. Boo.” Mikey laughs.
“Truly terrible, babe.” Claire agrees.
“Flexible?” Sid pipes up.
“Ironically, that feels too rigid.” I say. “Does that make sense?”
“Wait, I got this!” Claire says, her eyes sparkling, “Open to suggestions.”
“Ooh. I like that!” Says Mikey, then, trying it on, “Oh us, we’re open to suggestions.”
“It’s good! Non-committal, but not dismissive. Wordplay, but not dad-hat wordplay, like Wes’ idea.” I assess outloud, waving a hand at Wes as he opens his mouth to protest.
“So it’s settled, Adam and Mikey are open to suggestions.” Claire declares proudly.
“I have a suggestion!” Says Jack out of nowhere. We all look over to the patio where he stands, looking chic as fuck in an all black winter ensemble. He unbuttons and removes his peacoat, deftly working the classic toggles. He kicks a foot up on a patio chair, and slowly unzips a knee-high black leather riding boot. “One of you rubs my aching back while the other rubs my sore-ass feet. How’s that sound for a fun couples activity?”
Jack removes the other boot, then slowly removes his black cashmere sweater, revealing the soft slope of his spine. He unbuckles and unzips his pants, stepping out of them gracefully, extending his long slender legs with each motion. I feel Mikey’s hand grip my thigh under the water a bit. Jack looks over his shoulder at his audience, giving us a wink and an ass shake in his electric blue Andrew Christian swim briefs.
Claire wolf whistles at this.
“Damn, nice ass.” Sid mumbles appreciatively. I idly wonder if they’d ever hook up.
“Quit teasing us and come get your back rubbed!” Mikey sighs, impatiently.
“Never rush a diva.” Jack chides while pulling off his socks, but then immediately shivers in the cold and runs to climb into the tub. He sits unceremoniously in my lap with a steaming splash.
“Hello, lovely.” He says, and plops a kiss on my forehead. He slips off my lap, his ass dragging gently across my junk and crosses the short distance to a spot by Claire in an entirely unnecessary tiny dog-paddle stroke.
“Finals kicking your ass?” Wes asks with a chuckle.
“Entirely. But at least I’m almost done. Just need to get through my Art History exam and I’m golden.” Jack sighs.
“Oof. Slide identification or essay?” Sid asks in sympathy.
“Both.” Jack answers grimly.
Sid, Wes, and Claire groan loudly, throwing their heads back with tragic emphasis.
“How about the freshmen, how are your finals going?” Wes asks, probably noticing our nervous glances.
Mikey and I exchange looks.
“I know Mikey’s finals have been pretty tough, but he’s pre-med. It’s mostly science and math.” I say, patting his knee under the water. “Mine have been easy, by comparison (and not just because half of them are sewing projects). English was a snap, I’d read the book before so I just revised an essay from memory as best I could.”
“That’s my boy.” Claire smiles. “Anything left?”
“I’m done tomorrow.” Mikey says, “But it’s just my Spanish oral. Ser pan comido. Adam, you just have Geology, right.”
“Fuck. Um. Yes, er, well no…” I stutter, caught off guard. Everyone looks at me, worried.
“Spill, diva.” Jack says firmly.
“Fuck. I just, kinda, fucked that one up. I won’t be able to pass anyway so I figured why even bother?” This is humiliating.
“I thought you nailed the midterm?” Mikey says, perplexed.
“I did. I just missed too many lectures running from Brett the Bully.” I say, shrugging and trying not to feel what I’m feeling.
“Fucking Brett!” Sid cries out.
“Fuck that guy.” Jack says with narrowed eyes.
“I swear, I’m going to tear that guy's arms off one day.” Mikey grumbles.
“And I’m going to watch.” Jack piles on.
“That’s not your fault!” Claire shouts in exasperation, “You were literally being stalked by a deranged homophobe! No. Nope. Not happening. Who is the professor?”
Claire reaches for her phone and I momentarily panic.
“Who are you calling?!” I blurt out.
“No one. I’m looking up their office hours so we can get you some extra credit and save this grade.” Claire soothes, barely looking up. “I’m on the department page, what’s their name?”
“Cordova. Robert Cordova.” I answer, “You think you can save it? I haven’t reported Brett or anything.”
“Totally. Having documented the issue with faculty will actually help whenever you do choose to turn the hate-filled little shit in. Can you pass the final?” She answers honestly.
“Definitely.” I nod, “There was another lecture on Thursdays, so I’ve just been going to that one. Lab work and exam grades are good. It’s just the attendance.”
“Nice. We’re on his schedule. Tomorrow morning, 10am, Billingsley Hall. I’ll meet you there.”
“Thank you,” I say, then, cheekily, “mom.”
“Yeah, thanks mom!” Sid echoes.
“Thanks mommy.” Wes says lewdly.
“Ew.” Claire replies, kissing Wes.
…
