Letting Go (Vice, Virtue & Video) (3 page)

I rush back to the library after class, hoping that James
wasn’t too bored waiting for me. I feel bad ditching him when he flew all the
way out here to see me, but I couldn’t bail on class today.

When I get to the spot where I left him, he’s mysteriously
absent. I know James sometimes has a short attention span, so I’m guessing he
went to explore. I figure I’ll look around for him before I text him to find
out where the hell he is.

I start walking through the endless rows of books searching
for him when I hear a noise from down the hallway. This section has old books
that nobody uses unless they’re doing some obscure grad school research
project, so no one is usually in here, but I heard a distinctly female moan
coming from this direction. I’d bet a thousand bucks that James is involved.
Where there are girls moaning in pleasure, you can bet you’ll always find
James.

I creep closer, not wanting to alert anyone to my presence.
It’s not that I’m spying per se; it’s more that I don’t want to cause a big
scene if he really is fooling around in the stacks with some chick.

“That’s so fucking deep!” the female voice says.

Yep. Definitely James
.

There’s panting and quiet moaning, the sound of skin
slapping up against skin, and her begging him to give it to her harder and
faster. Clearly he’s…um…getting the job done, because she’s going wild. I’m not
even sure that she’s attempting to be quiet anymore.

“Your pussy feels so fuckin’ good, baby.” That’s definitely
his voice. But it’s got a new, husky quality to it. If the James Laird Sex
Laser Beam had an accompanying sound effect, this would be it.

It dawns on me that I’ve never seen James reach…completion.
I only watched a few quick minutes of the video he showed me, and most of that
watching was done through my fingers as I tried to cover my eyes. I’ve never
heard the sounds he makes when he’s about to come—but it’s very clear
that this is what I’m hearing right now. There’s a tone to it, a level of
masculine triumph, if you will, and I can tell he’s almost there.

I know I should turn away and wait at the rendezvous point,
but I’m glued to the spot. There’s something scandalous and delightfully
naughty about overhearing James having sex. It’s stupid, I know, because if I
wanted to hear him have sex, there are hundreds of clips I could watch online,
but something is different about hearing it firsthand. It’s kind of…sexy.

The moaning and groaning reaches a crescendo and I hear him
tip over the edge. I swallow hard and my cheeks flush. My chest is tight with a
combination of embarrassment and intrigue—okay, maybe it’s more arousal
than intrigue. I hate to admit it, but this is kind of hot.

I realize, of course, that they’re done, and I need to get
the fuck out of here before I’m spotted. If he knew that I listened to this,
the staggering level of awkwardness would probably register on the Richter
scale.

I quietly dart out of the deserted section and back into the
main library where I left him. I whip out my notebook and pretend like I’m
looking over my notes from this morning’s lecture.

A few minutes later, I look up to see him walking a few
steps behind a pretty, Asian girl with slightly jumbled clothing and flushed
cheeks. I roll my eyes and feel a pit forming in my stomach. She looks very
satisfied, and he’s looking pretty pleased with his accomplishment.

I don’t know how to feel about this. I’m certainly not
surprised. This is the kind of behavior I’ve come to expect from James. In
fact, I’m actually sort of curious as to what sequence of events led to this
average, normal looking girl deciding to fuck him in the goddamn library. What
kind of game did he lay on her? I’ve only been gone an hour, and he was balls
deep in some panting co-ed in no time flat. It’s actually a little impressive
that he could pull that off in that short amount of time. Sex appeal is like
his fucking superpower!

On the other hand, though, I’m not exactly thrilled with it.
It’s not that I’m jealous or that I don’t want him to be attracted to anyone
but me, but I feel a tiny bit slighted right now. I guess I just thought he
might have still been hung-up on his attraction to me, and that would have
influenced him to keep his dick in his pants for sixty fucking minutes.

He seems kind of surprised to see me waiting for him, and he
looks away from the girl like they’re perfect strangers. I want to roll my
eyes, but I don’t want to be a bitch. That nonchalant shit might work on
someone else, but I can read him like a book, and even if I hadn’t witnessed it
firsthand, it would be completely obvious to me that the two of them were just
getting very familiar in the stacks.

“Hey, when did you get here?” he asks, taking a seat across
from me at the table.

“A few minutes ago,” I reply, unsuccessfully trying to
pretend that I’m unaware of his activities.

“Oh, cool,” he says. “Yeah, I just got up, figured I’d check
this place out.”

“Mm-hm.” I nod, standing and motioning for him to follow me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?” He grins and holds the door open for me as we leave
the library.

“Did you and that girl have a good time?”

He snickers, but his smile is delightfully mischievous. “I
have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit!”

“I was just waiting for you in the library, like you told me
to.”

“So I told you to fuck some girl up against a bunch of old
books?”

“Who did what against some old books?” It’s the weakest
attempt at looking innocent that I’ve ever seen.

“Shut up! You are the worst liar ever.”

“That nice young lady was just showing me around the library.”

“I think she was just showing your dick around her pussy!”

He cracks up laughing as he walks along side me, his long
legs making him easily keep up with my swift pace.

“Christ, you are so fucking predictable that I could set my
watch by you!” I say, scoffing.

He snickers and tries to look chastened, but the
I-just-got-laid swagger in his walk betrays his inner cockiness.

“I’ve never even made out with anybody in the stacks. You’ve
been here a day and you’re already getting laid back there.”

“Aw, are you jealous?” he teases, goading me. “You want to
get laid in the stacks, Lola, we can go back there right now. I’ll hike you up
against a bookshelf and make all your library sex fantasies come true.”

“Oh, shut up!” I say, blushing from my head to my toes. “Besides,
I wouldn’t fuck anybody who still smelled like some other girl.”

He sniffs his shirt and shrugs. “Your loss.”

“You are like a walking hard-on sometimes,” I say, trying to
sound annoyed but unable to when he smiles at me like this. “You’re always ready
to fuck at a moment’s notice like your dick is on call!”

He laughs loudly, clearly amused by my exasperation.

“You’re going to lose that thing if you keep sticking it
anywhere like that,” I say with an eye roll.

He stops in his tracks, nearly keeling over with laughter
like he can hardly contain himself.

“I’m pretty sure you’re jealous,” he teases once he’s caught
his breath. “I’m pretty sure you hate me right now because you wish you were
getting laid in the library like I just was. I’m guessing you wish some dude
would seduce you like that and you’d both just be so hot for each other that
you couldn’t wait until you got back to the dorm, so you just had to fuck right
then and there.”

I attempt to scowl at him, but I don’t really pull it off.
“Anonymous library hookups don’t appeal to me, thank you.”

“Oh! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, she’s jealous.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Joke all you want. We’ll see who’s
jealous when Daniel and I have a little library fling.”

His expression suddenly turns more serious. “You wouldn’t
actually do that, though, would you?”

“What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, my
friend!”

He looks in my eyes like he’s searching, and then he shakes
his head. “Nah, you wouldn’t ever fuck in public like that,” he says with
certainty. “You’re a good girl. You could be horny as hell and you still
wouldn’t let some guy fuck you in the middle of the library.”

I hate that he knows me so well that he can make statements
like this and they’ll be totally true. I wish I could call his bluff, give him
a little taste of his own medicine, but I know he’s right and that I could
never actually have sex in the library like that.

“You know what…just shut it and let’s go to this class,” I
say, not willing to admit defeat.

“Sometimes, cupcake, I think I know you better than you know
yourself,” he teases, throwing his arm around my shoulders.

I pretend to shove him away, but I end up leaning into him
and letting him hold my hand. Even though I think his brand of
fuck-first-ask-questions-later sex is kind of messed up, I can’t be mad at him
when he’s being an adorable smart-ass.

This class is pretty massive, and it’s in one of those
lecture classrooms with fuckin’ stadium-style seats. It’s kind of intimidating,
like we should be discussing the world economy or researching a cure for
cancer. Lola and I sit down in the upper middle, and the rest of the class
fills in the seats around us.

“Do you have a spare notebook or something?” I quietly ask
her. “I feel like people are going to know I’m crashing this class if I don’t
look like I’m taking notes.”

“Sure.” She reaches in her bag and pulls out a little spiral
notebook and a pen.

I get situated and try to copy everything Lola does. She’s
comfortable here, and she knows the ropes, so I’m just going to follow her
lead. It’s almost like I’m researching her for a role so I can play an
intelligent, scholarly, overachieving undergrad at a prestigious university. If
I had tried to emulate her academic behavior when we were growing up, maybe I
could have ended up at a good school like this.

The professor starts the lecture, which includes a
slideshow, and I peek over at Lola’s notes. She’s underlining certain things
and putting little stars next to them.

“What are the stars for?” I whisper to her.

“It’s stuff that’s going to be on the final.”

“How do you know?”

“If she repeats it, like, three times, it’s fair to assume
it’ll appear on the test,” she explains. “All these professors basically have a
pattern, and most of them just want you to repeat back what they told you so
they can see if you were paying attention. With most college classes, they want
you to be a parrot, not a freethinker.”

I laugh quietly and she gives me a smile.

She’s always been great at tests, and now I know why. She’s
good at recognizing patterns and shit. I was always overwhelmed by all the
information my professors gave me when I was in school, but Lola knows how to
pick out the little nuggets of information that will help her get a good grade.
As I listen to the professor, I start to notice it too. There are certain
things she emphasizes, and there are terms in bold on her slides. It totally
makes sense that those topics would feature prominently on a final exam.

“And, of course, we look at sex and gender through a
cultural lens,” the professor says. “How one culture views gender and sexuality
might be quite different from the beliefs of another culture.”

She goes on to talk about how gender is perceived in culture
throughout history, and it’s actually kind of interesting stuff. She even
mentions the way men and women are portrayed in the media—including porn.
I want to stand up and contest a few of her points, but I’m guessing she
wouldn’t be too thrilled with some porno dude getting a freebie lecture at this
expensive institution, let alone interrupting her class to dispute some of her
theories.

As I sit here, I think about my brief little foray into
higher education. I was in college for one semester, and I attended class about
sixty percent of the time. Most of my days were spent sleeping off whatever
reckless partying I did the night before. I’d usually wake up at noon in some
girl’s bed, go to a class or two, go out partying with friends, then go home
with another random girl. There was a month where I slept with twenty-seven
different girls, and I was pretty proud of that accomplishment. My grades
suffered for it, but I was putting up some serious numbers that semester. The
freedom of college gave me a chance to see what my real priorities were, and they
certainly weren’t grades, so it just made sense when I quit and started doing
porn.

I look around the room, observing the students. Everyone is
taking copious notes. Nobody’s sleeping or texting or fucking off in general.
Everyone seems really engaged, like they’re really absorbing all this
information. Honestly, I’m feeling a little intimidated.

These kids are smart, really smart. I’d bet that they’re all
upper-middle class, and a few look like they come from ultra-rich families. I
wouldn’t quite label it pretentious, but it’s certainly more elitist than I’m
used to. Lola might not be wealthy, but she fits right in here intellectually.
These kids are her peers, the kind of people she should be hanging out with.

There’s a growing pit in my stomach when I think about her
future. She’ll do really well in school. She’ll probably get some really great
job in a state far away from me. She’ll meet a nice guy with an education and a
career, an ambitious type who can keep up with her. He’ll propose to her in some
elaborate way, and they’ll have a big wedding—which she’ll invite me to.
I’ll have to watch her walk down the aisle, and I’ll know that each step will create
more distance between us. No more cuddles. No more little kisses. No more
constant phone calls or texting. We’ll just drift apart.

Sure, we’ll always be tight, but her life is going to go in
a bright, shiny, really promising direction. And that direction might take her
away from me. I want her to have the best, I want her to be happy, to have the
life she deserves, but the thought of her going her own way kind of kills me.
It’s already hard to handle being so far away from her now that she’s in
college, and I can’t even imagine how tough it will be once she’s married with
kids, living the dream in the suburbs somewhere.

I glance over at her, taking in her special brand of
natural, innocent, true beauty while she pays attention to the lecture. I’m
going to miss looking in those big, honey-brown eyes. I’m going to miss tucking
her thick, wavy hair behind her ear and kissing her forehead. I’m going to miss
those full lips curving into a smile when I tell her a joke, or those soft
cheeks turning pink when I tease her about sex. It’s going to be sad to not
hear the sound of her laugh, or feel the warmth in her body language when she
cuddles with me in bed. Someday I’ll have to let all these things go, to let
her grow and shine and be her own person. I don’t want her to fail, but I also
don’t want her to outgrow our friendship—and I feel like a dick for even
thinking that.

I hardly notice when everyone starts putting their stuff
away. Lola reaches for the notebook on my desk and smiles as she tucks it into
her bag. I smile back, but I still feel a little bummed out.

I reach for her hand as we’re leaving the classroom, and she
lets me hold it.
Please don’t leave me, Lo. Please don’t ever leave me.
I’m uncomfortable with this level of vulnerability, but I’ve always been that
way with her. She strips me bare, makes me feel exposed, and I can’t help but
wear my heart on my sleeve when it comes to Lola.

“You okay?” she asks me when she looks up into my eyes.

“Yeah,” I reply, smiling down at her. Not sure if she buys
it or not.

“Sorry it was so boring today,” she says, giving my hand a
squeeze. “The other day we did a whole lecture on ‘taboo’ sexual behavior
throughout history. I wish you were there for that. I think you would have had
a lot of insight.” She winks, and I laugh.

“Was there double penetration talk? Did they mention ‘painal’
or bondage?” I’ve been talking about sex with Lola since we were in elementary
school, and for some reason it puts me at ease. “I could have given the lecture
in some of that stuff.”

She crinkles her nose and giggles. “Is there anything you haven’t
done?”

“Not really.” I casually shrug. “Name the craziest thing you
can think of, and I’ve probably tried it.”

“Um…” She pauses and looks around to make sure we’re not
within earshot of anyone. Thankfully, we’ve got about a twenty-foot buffer between
us and the next person on the sidewalk. “How about the most girls you’ve been
with at once?”

“I did a scene with six girls, but it can get a little
awkward if there are too many,” I answer honestly. “The most I like to do at a
time is four.”

“That seems…excessive.”

“As you know, I’m good with my hands.” My lips curl into a
grin.

She goes fully pink now. I love to watch that color spread
over her cheeks and know that I put it there. It’s not embarrassment, really,
because she never seems uncomfortable enough to tell me to shut up. She looks
so cute as she glances around the sidewalk, looking suspicious as we walk back
to her dorm. I love this expression. I guess I like the thrill of knowing that
I told her something she’ll think is scandalous.

“You ever hear the term ‘airtight’?” I ask her, raising an
eyebrow.

“Maybe when it comes to containers or food storage,” she
says, trying not to look so curious.

“In porn, it means a girl taking three cocks.”

“Three? All at once?”

“Yeah. Pussy, ass and mouth. Airtight.”

She looks grossed out, and I can’t help but snicker.

“You know what a cream pie is?”

“I’m guessing you’re not talking about a dessert.”

“Nope. It’s when you come inside a girl. Pretty much any
video that’s labeled ‘teen cream pie’ will be super popular. They like to show close-ups
of everything dripping out.”

“James! This is so gross! I don't need to think about you
blowing a fucking load in some girl and a camera moving in for close-ups!
Besides, is that shit even safe?”

“Everything’s regulated, Lo. The only girls I’ve ever come
inside are porn stars, and we’re all tested on the regular. I’m condoms-only in
real life.”

“I guess that’s good,” she says, still looking grossed out.

I squeeze her hand and smile warmly at her, but I’m having
too much fun freaking her out with sex stuff, so I have to keep going.

“You ever hear of a DVDA?”

“No.”

“It means double-vaginal-double-anal. Four cocks. One girl.”

Her eyes get wide and she looks shocked.  “Is that even
possible?”

“I’ve never shot one, but I know some girls can fit a lot up
there, so it’s definitely possible.”

She looks totally creeped out, and I find that hilarious.

“Do you know what ATM means in porn terms?”

“I feel like this is going to be something horrible,” she
says, almost like she wants to plug her ears.

I laugh louder. “It means ass-to-mouth.”

She grabs her stomach. “Seriously, you’re going to make me
puke.”

“Usually it refers to a blowjob after anal, but sometimes
rimming can be classified as ATM too.”

“And you’ve participated this shit?” She seems horrified,
but not enough to tell me to stop.

“What do you think?” I wink at her.

“I just don’t understand why anyone would want to put their
mouth there!”

“You don’t understand why anyone would want to put
anything
there,” I tease. “You’re pretty staunchly anti-backdoor, just judging by how
you always react when I bring it up.”

She’s trying to look disgusted when she glances up at me,
but she’s also bashfully giggling. It reminds me of how she reacted when we
were kids and I was trying to explain what a blowjob was.

“If a guy tried to explore that region with me, I would
break up with him on the spot!” she jokes. “I don’t want a man who needs to
have stunt sex. Just a regular, normal guy who wants to have regular, normal
sex is fine with me, thank you very much.”

“Ah, you’re no fun!” I tease, reaching out to mess up her
hair.

She laughs and smacks me in the stomach before running her
fingers through her hair to straighten it out again.

“You know, for somebody who’s best friends with a porn star,
you’re kind of prude.” I smirk at her, holding open the door as we go into the
dorm.

“Just the fact that I’ll listen and tolerate your pervy
bullshit proves that I am definitely not a prude,” she retorts.

“You love my pervy bullshit,” I say, reaching down to give
her a little smack on the ass.

Her roommate isn’t there when we get in, and I check out her
room. Dorms all kind of look the same. This one reminds me of a scene I did
where me and two girls fucked on a dorm room set. It was one of those “hidden
camera” things where it’s supposed to look like real college kids making a
secret sex tape. That was a frequent genre for me when I first started, because
I was college-age and no one had seen me in tons of movies yet. Now I’m too well
known on the internet to do stuff like that.

I watch Lola put her stuff away, and I feel grateful to have
her. She lets me say the filthiest shit to her, and she always just laughs it
off. She’s super sweet, she’s smart as hell, and she totally gets my humor. I fuckin’
admire her. I wish I was more like her, that I was good and pure and smart like
she is. The pit in my stomach returns and I swallow hard.
Fuck, I’m going to
miss this someday.
I want to cherish every second with her, just in case my
time with her is already ticking away.