Thanks you to the few who reviewed my first chapter. I told you I would continue, and so I have. Don't worry, I promise it gets better!
Chapter 2- Desperately Wanting
Kyle's POV
The party seemed to be getting underway pretty nicely. No one random has shown up. Good thing too. I'd have to kick 'em out. No way am I getting in trouble this early into the fall semester for a party that I didn't even fully condone. I look over at the dimly lit microwave clock. 11:42. Not too bad. People are just really starting to show up. It will be pretty hopping by midnight and on. I'm a late night person anyway.
I've got to stick by Stan's side tonight. He looks like shit. Stupid bitch Wendy had to rub his face in her happiness every five minutes. I'm not sure why; she should be content with Cartman. I'm pretty sure they're going to have sex tonight. I can tell by the way she is leaning into him with every drink she takes. They're going to get drunk and screw, as Jimmy Buffet puts it. Lets just hope Stan doesn't find out. God, I need to smoke more.
Nobody knows this, but I've been waiting for this girl to show up. She's like the hottest girl I've seen at school so far, and the best part is…she is my professor. Well, not really. She is the graduate assistant who teaches most of the time when my deadbeat professor is too lazy. So that makes it legal. I don't want to pull a Kenny or anything. She overheard me inviting some guys to the party in class, and she gave me this pleading look like she wanted to come. So I invited her. She gave me a smile that made parts of my body wake up that have been dormant for quite some time.
It's been awhile since I've had a girl in my life. One year, three months, and eighteen days to be exact. I dated Bebe Stevens for a few years back in high school. I knew she wasn't the one for me, but it was still fun to mess around with her. I mean, come on. I was a sixteen-year-old boy. She had an incredible body. Need I say more?
No, I don't mean to sound like an ass, I'm just not into girls right now. After seeing what Wendy did to Stan, and then hearing Cartman tell me about their relationship—not to mention the sickening couple of Paul and Bebe—its enough to make me steer clear of the female species. But I don't mind when they want to come over and make out or anything. I've pretty much lost every interested girl to Stan since we started school, so when one takes a liking to me and sticks with it…I'm going to give her a chance.
I fucking hate that. Because Stan never wants them. He's too in love with Wendy to see how many women truly fall for him. And I can't be mad at him for it, because he never does anything to try to steal them away. Stan's my best friend, but I wish sometimes he would go away so that I could get a chance with one of them.
Then she came along. Her name is Geneva, and she is French. She looks like that chic Sophie on Kill Bill, and I'm completely smitten. She's brilliant. I mean, hell, she teaches our chemistry lab better than the professor himself. And we've talked before. I've told her about Stan. I have to make sure to cover my bases. She says it's a shame that so many girls fall victim to the black haired beauties of the world. She only says that because she's a black haired beauty herself. But I think what she says is genuine. And I can tell by the way she touches my arm ever so delicately when I stay after class for questions that she likes me too. I've never actually gotten up enough courage to ask her out yet, mostly because I consider her my teacher and all. But tonight I think the sparks are gonna fly!
"Dude, you look spaced out!" I heard Stan say in the distance. Whoa, he's standing right in front of me! Damn, I daydream too much.
"I'm just thinking again…" I respond. Every one of my friends is so baffled at how much I think. I conjure up scenarios, provide explanations to questions, and analyze in depth concepts all in five minutes. I've been cursed with the brainpower of a genius. No really, I hate it. I could be way smarter if I tried. But the truth is, I don't care. Ike is the "genius" in our family, pulling a 4.0 since fifth grade. Its funny. I did that too, but nobody made as big of deal about it. Now that Ike is fourteen, he's already in advanced placement, taking practically senior level courses. I could have done that. I didn't want to be separated from my friends. Especially Stan.
"Kyle," Stan says, waving a hand in front of my face. Shit! I'm doing it again.
"Sorry dude. I'm just sidetracked. You should go get another beer," I suggest when I notice that his is almost empty. I want to think about Geneva again. Her long legs, her sexy smile, her soulful eyes…
"KYLE!" Stan repeats himself. "I think you should move. You've been in this spot for an hour now."
I have? Wow, time goes by fast I suppose. I'm not drinking tonight, so that doesn't give me the excuse to space out so much. What the hell did I smoke?
"I want you to come with me out into the living room," Stan continues. He bends down really close to my face. "Wendy and Cartman aren't in there," he says, pointing over at the snuggling culprits. Ah, so that's the reason. The first intelligent thing Stan has said all night.
"Alright, I'm down. I'll be back in a few minutes. Go in there without me," I instruct him. He gives me a strange look, as if I'm going to abandon him or something, and then does as he was told. I watch him walk out of the room before I get up myself and head toward the bathroom.
Once I am safely in the bathroom, I pull the joint out of my back pocket and light up. I'm going to need to spare this if I'm going to get through tonight sober. If my mom knew that I did this, she would be turning me into the dean of students right away. I'm so glad to get away from her. Ike started to smoke too, which in my opinion is a little too young. He caught me once in my bedroom and said he wanted to try. I refused, putting it away as if it was nothing. He told me later he tried it with his girlfriend, and they had sex that night. If mom knew I was the one that influenced that, well, she would just kill me.
I look into the mirror to see if I look respectable for my lady. I can honestly say that I like the way I look tonight. I've liked the way I've looked for awhile now. I finally figured out how to style my hair so that I don't like a complete melvin, and my sense of style is uncanny. Sure I'm skinny and white, but some girls dig that, right? Well, that is, until they contrast me with Stan, the skinny but muscular tan hunk that will ruin my chances with girls for the rest of my life. Heh, at least I don't look like Cartman. But even he has Wendy. I fidget with my buttons on my green shirt for another five minutes, deciding whether I want the second one buttoned, or leave my chest exposed. I think I'm going to leave it unbuttoned, because it puts focus on to my hemp necklace, which defines me. Now I'm ready for her.
As I make my way into the living room, I see Stan over with Kenny, who is playing beer pong. God, I suck at that game. He's eyeing me like he knows exactly what I just did. Probably. He knows me better than anyone. He doesn't know about her though. Just to be safe, I don't think I'm going to introduce him to her until tomorrow morning. Yeah, I'm getting my hopes up.
"Hey Kenny, who's winning?" I ask, half interested in the lame game. I'd rather be upstairs doing my homework than throwing a ping-pong ball into a cup of beer and drinking that very same beer. Gross. Stan seems pretty interested though. Maybe that will get his mind off that whore.
Kenny doesn't answer me. He just picks the ball up off the floor and throws it, directly into the last cup there. "Looks like I win AGAIN, Paul," he gloats, and picks up his beer and chugs it.
"Damn, Kenny, you're a natural!" I hear Stan say. "I can't believe this is the second time you've played!" The second time! Kenny has always amazed me. He's like the idiot savant of our group. Only he's not retarded. In fact, I think Kenny might be just as smart as me; he's just never gotten a chance to show it. But the fact is, that boy can do anything he wants to, and he not only completes it successfully—he makes everyone else look like amateurs. I love rocking out with him and Paul. I get lost in Kenny's guitar riffs and enchanting voice.
Kenny takes Stan's comment with a grain of salt. He's used to the praise we give him. But its cool, he never lets it go to his head. He's got other shitty things in his life to not be so thankful for.
"Hey Ken, can Kyle and I play you?" Stan asks.
I blink twice. "Whoaaaaa dude. I am not drinking tonight." Even if I was, I would be so drunk at the end of this game against Kenny, I wouldn't be able to stand up straight. I'm a lightweight.
Stan shrugs. "So? You can be my partner, and I'll drink everything. Besides, it will pass the time faster." That makes sense. I nod in agreement.
"Okay fine. But Stan, I am not going to stand beside you when you throw up tonight," I add. I'm not going through that again. No guy should ever have to go through that again.
Stan smiles. "You won't have to. Come on, let's play!"
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Cartman's POVI wonder what's going through her mind. Every time she looks at me, I get this feeling that my life is about to change. In a good or bad way, I'm not sure.
I feel like the luckiest guy at this party. I'm the coolest one here, number one, and I have this stunning young woman to accompany me throughout the night. If the assholes that made fun of me back in South Park could only see me now. Eric Cartman. King and ruler of all. Everyone bow down to me. People are only here at this party because of me. Not because of Jew boy or even that jock strap that's really starting to piss me off. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that those two were a couple from the way Kyle's been at Stan's side this whole night. I mean, looking at Wendy, we look the same way. But she's my girl.
I feel a lot better now that Wendy decided to show up. I feel like myself again. Don't tell anyone, but sometimes I become overrun with such emotions for her, I turn into some sappy faggot who would do anything for the woman he loves. And I do love her. I believe that she is the reason I am who I am today, somehow or another. Look at me; I'm doing it again. Stop it! Well, I guess I'm okay to tell you guys. I just can't let Stan and Kyle find out how I feel. I like them fearing me.
Well I don't think Kyle does anymore. He's not really getting on my nerves as much as he used to. He mostly stays in his room smoking pot like a damn hippie, but that doesn't bother me so I don't care. He's such a smart guy that I'd think he'd realize that one day, he's going to smoke himself retarded. I see him digress little by little each day. It doesn't matter to me though.
Stan, however, is getting on my last nerve. That little prick has been glaring at me and Wendy all night. She's been making me laugh by pissing him off so much. I understand that he is upset that she dumped him or whatever. And now she is dating ME. But that's no reason to give me the death look every time I try to be nice to him. Come on, I'm really trying this year. I do have to live with the guy, right? He's lucky I wanted him to live with me. I could have done great out on my own. I just felt sorry for him.
I wonder what Wendy's surprise is for me. She keeps giving me that look…WHOA! She just touched my crotch. Grabbed it, actually. Damn, is she horny? I'd say she's had a lot to drink. I bought her a bottle of wine near the airport, since I know she hates feeling juvenile with a keg of beer. And I think she drank that whole bottle, now that I think about it. I wonder what is going through her mind right now. I know what I am thinking.
Wendy and I have been technically together for almost three months now. I guess you could say 'together,' even though she despises labels for some reason. She calls me her boyfriend, so I take whatever I can get. I haven't gotten any further than second base with her, mostly because I'm afraid.
Yeah, I'll admit it. Look at her! Wendy Testaburger is drop dead gorgeous and then some. She's got this beautiful shoulder-length shiny black hair, and these big sparkling hazel eyes. Her mouth is killer—I want to kiss her every waking second of the day. And her body. Well…I haven't actually seen it yet, but I can imagine. She always wants to do stuff with the lights off. I think its because she's embarrassed of me. I've felt her soft, smooth skin and curvaceous body—she has absolutely NOTHING to be ashamed about. She's let me play with her before, tantalizing her skin with my fingertips. She says I'm good at foreplay. So maybe someday she'll actually get to find out what a stallion I am in bed. I'm pretty sure I will be. Only I don't think that day will ever come. Sometimes I think I'm kidding myself. A beauty like her and, well, me. The beast. I don't know, I guess I'm not that bad. But I in no way compare to her. She's so flawless and I'm…with flaws.
I'm still heavy. I know I'm not the fatass I once was, but I still could stand to lose weight. This is part of my college plan. By the time I get out in the business world, I'd like to be the dominating husky man. You know the type I'm talking about. If I were skinny like my friends, no one would ever take me seriously. I want to be respected. To be respected, I have to lose a bit more weight. I'll never be thin. I'm okay with that—I'm big boned, remember? I guess you could compare me to the football player build, only I don't actually play football anymore. So my body is going to crap unless I do something about it. So yeah, that's me. I think my face doesn't fit my body, because Wendy calls me cutie all the time. When she does that, she kisses me on the cheek, and plays with my hair. I'm not sure if I should take this as a compliment, but I don't complain. She thinks I'm cute. I think she's crazy.
And I think she wants me. She is definitely pushing herself against me. What is she doing? Is it the wine talking? What time is it? Its 12:30. Why is she looking at me like that? I've never seen her look at anyone that way. At first I thought it was a bad look. She looked as though she was contemplating something. Like she came here, only to break up with me. But her body language is something different.
"Eric, I'm bored," she whispers in my ear, propped on her toes to reach my tall build. "Will you take me upstairs?" She smiles slyly. She's grabbing my arm, coaxing me up there before I can even give her a response. I glance around the place. Stan and Kyle are both in the living room getting killed by Kenny in beer pong, and I either don't recognize or care about anyone else. I want to see what Wendy is up to.
I watch her walk up the stairs before me. God, that ass is breathtaking. She is still holding my hand, walking up so fast, I almost trip behind her. Maybe she is going to show me this 'surprise'. Whatever it is, she is so anxious she is practically ripping my arm out of socket. I am mesmerized by her strength. She yanks open the door to my room and practically throws me in, pushing me ahead of her. I collect myself, and turn around, only to see her with her back pressed against the door, looking up at me with her seductive look.
"I told you that I have a surprise for you," she reminds me, thinking that I could forget about it. She gradually inches away from the door toward me. "Eric," she starts, "I really feel like we are getting along great, and I am falling for you faster than what I ever thought was possible." Is that a compliment? She continues, coming so close to me that I start backing up until I trip and fall onto my mattress, which is lying on the ground. She begins to crawl on top of me. "I want to show you how much you mean to me," she says, as she starts kissing me.
I relax a little and go with the flow for a while. The lights are on, so it means we can't do too much. I explore her soft back with my hands and slowly slip into fantasyland as she playfully bites my lower lip, moving her luscious lips to my ear. She is breathing heavily and kissing them just the right way so that she knows I am growing hornier. She seems to enjoy this teasing, because she moves her right hand from my chest on down, stopping, once again, at my groin. Yeah, I have a sexy woman on top of me; she's feeling my response.
"I want to make love to you," she says, so softly as to not ruin the moment, but to drive me wild with excitement. I could pretty much take her right then and there, no foreplay, no turning the lights off, no nothing. After she tells me this, there is no stopping me. But she stops her teasing and gets on her knees. Where is she going? I thought…
She is standing all the way up now. Oh, she's turning off the lights. Wait. She stopped. I watch as she gracefully pulls her purple shirt off of her head. This sexy skintight lace purple camisole is underneath. I must say, it's the most revealing thing I've ever seen any girl wear. I can see her breasts, and for the first time, I'm seeing just how beautiful this girl is. Oh wow, she is unbuttoning her pants. Holy, shit! She is wearing matching lace boy cut panties. I'm about to have a heart attack right now. She motions me with her index finger to come join her. I swear I jump up with such enthusiasm; I almost hit my head on the ceiling. Yeah, she knows I'm eager. Who wouldn't be?
I join her, in the center of my room. She takes my arms, and wraps them around her waist, and then she starts kissing me passionately again. "I bought this for you," she exclaims in between kisses. That might just about be the best present I have EVER gotten.
I'm growing nervous as she starts lifting my shirt with her hands. She's never seen me before without my shirt on, what if she doesn't like me? She'll run away in horror, and I'll be left alone with the biggest erection I have had in my entire life. But she doesn't even cringe when she pulls the shirt off my head, tossing it on the floor, somewhere unbeknownst to me. She is clawing at my back, pressing herself closer and closer to me—I feel like I'm swallowing her. Man, if Stan and Kyle knew what was going on up here, I would never let them make fun of me again. Stan would probably try to kill me. Whoa, what the hell am I thinking about those losers for? She's going for my pants!
She's going to find out that I wear boxers. She's never done anything with me…down there. It's always been me making her happy. And now she is unbuttoning my khakis, unzipping them so slowly, I think by the time she gets them off, I'm going to knock her over with the size of my boner. I know its gross, but this girl has gotten the anticipation part down! Man! So now my pants are down around my ankles, and she is pressing into me even harder than before. I walk out of the pants, and slowly guide her to the bed. This is it. This is the night. My first time.
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