Late spring 1994 -- Cobain was dead, Clinton was president, and Becky's ritzy New England college was still a few years away from installing computers in all the dorm rooms. That last point was rather frustrating to Becky when the library closed down that Saturday evening in May and she had to return to her room, for she was in the mood for some fun. Private, no-strings-attached fun, of the type that was only available to her on the computer just then. And there was no choice but to head for the communal computer rooms, where her privacy would be limited.
Becky was ready for the semester to be over, for it had been a rough one and the summer held far more promise. That winter had seen Becky turn twenty-one and she'd had her share of legal fun at the bar. But it had also seen the end of her first real relationship. She'd given Jeff her virginity, and he remained the only man she'd ever been with. When their relationship had failed, he'd been gentlemanly enough about it; but it still ate at her that there was a guy on their little campus who'd seen her naked and now he was barely speaking to her. It also ate at her that she now knew how much fun sex could be and there was no one to scratch that itch anymore.
Becky had, of course, learned quickly not to express that frustration with her friends, for they all told her she could easily pick up a guy at the bar if she wanted. While the thought did cross her mind occasionally, Becky had higher standards than that. But the memory of Jeff's lovely cock inside her and the longing in her loins on the walk home that evening gave her some pause about sticking to that. She needed some fun. But picking up strangers in a bar? She wasn't
that
desperate! The campus was throbbing with parties, too, but the melancholy of early spring was still too palpable for her to be in a partying mood.
In an effort to put her grief and loneliness behind her, Becky had applied for a study-trip to Europe for the summer; and to her delight she had been accepted with a full ride. That, of course, only added to her wish for the lousy semester to be over with already. A summer of exotic travels and lots of cute foreign guys awaited her...but tonight there was just her lonely room.
The thought was already bubbling up in her mind on the walk home. By the time she shut her room door behind her and had the light on and the windowshade down, Becky knew she had to do it. Since it was a Saturday night, there would surely be some computers free. And somewhere out there, she knew. there was a like-minded guy who'd be up for some fun.
Becky set her backpack down on her unmade bed and kicked off her sneakers, and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked appropriately sleepy after the long afternoon and evening in the library, but her shoulder-length brown hair was still fairly neat looking and her white pullover was fine for the occasion. The jeans needed to go, though. Ever since high school, a night like this called for a skirt and the easy access it would provide. Becky reached back into the farthest reaches of her closet and drew out her "study skirt", so called because it was old and worn and normally she only wore it in the privacy of her room -- anyone who happened to see her wearing it was told it was "comfy for studying in". And it was, but tonight was not for studying.
Tonight, comfort trumped vanity, and the dark blue floral print garment was the only one that would do. Becky felt better already as she slipped on her sandals and gathered up her keys for the walk to the nearest computer room, three dorms up the way.
Jack was trying to study, but his roommate Kirk had other ideas. "I want the room to myself tonight," Kirk announced when he arrived back from the chemistry building.
"Fat chance, bud," Jack retorted.
"Oh, there's a fat chance, all right," Kirk chirped. "A very fat one. Shouldn't you be out trying to get in your best friend's girl's pants anyway?"
"This is how things get ugly, man," Jack warned him, still not looking up from his book.
Kirk opened a can of Coke and took a loud, rude slurp. "Yup. With you not doing what I tell you. I want the room to myself. Got a big exam on Monday and I'll be up most of tonight doing other homework so I can study all day tomorrow for that."
"You can study with me here."
"I'm not comfortable with you around. Come on, Jack, I'd do the same for you if you needed it."
"No, you wouldn't," Jack said. "You would just say you had done it without really doing anything. That's what you always do."
"You and your assumptions," Kirk whined. "Come on, you don't need your privacy like I do. Besides, you didn't answer my question, why aren't you out with Rick and Nicole?"
"Doesn't matter why I'm not," Jack said, resisting the temptation to tell Kirk that Rick and Nicole had broken up last weekend and Nicole, having figured out Jack's feelings for her, no longer wanted him around.
"Well why don't you go find out?" Kirk needled. "Maybe if you're lucky, Nicole will give you a sympathy fuck."
"Man, you're skating on thin ice!" Jack snapped. "Do you want things to get ugly?"
"If I have to piss you off to get you out of the room, I will."
Jack looked at his implacable ex-friend, and down at his book. Just a few more weeks to summer and freedom with his big internship in New York, and he'd really hoped the two of them could get along for the homestretch. But it wasn't going to happen. Without another word, he stood up and slipped on his loafers. Gathering up his book and notebook, he headed for the door.
"Glad to see you doing what you're told for once," Kirk chirped.
Still without a word, Jack turned around and punched Kirk in the back of the head, hard enough to send him sprawling into the wall and then onto the floor. "Have fun studying!" he said cheerfully as he shut the door behind him while Kirk was still writhing on the rug.
Jack knew the drill. Hours from now he would return and find Kirk whining about how he ought to sic the cops on him and he'd have a bruise showing in the morning and blah blah blah, and never a single word about anything he had done to bring it on. It had been a vicious semester, with Kirk's gigantic ego at home and the unrequited crush on Nicole facing him everywhere else. Now Nicole was finally single again, but she wanted nothing to do with any of Rick's friends. Jack wanted so to console her -- even if it was just as a friend, at least he might get to hold her just once -- but it wasn't to be. Thank heavens it was only a few weeks now to summer. But it looked like Kirk was going to make damn sure they would be long weeks.
At least this time he'd gotten a good shot at Kirk, Jack thought as he stepped out into the warm evening. He'd never been a violent guy before and he hoped never to be again. But everybody had a limit.
There was a party in nearly every dorm, from the sound of it. But Jack quickly decided against joining any of them. If he got drunk, it meant he'd have to come home sooner rather than later and there'd be hell to pay with Kirk. Besides, given how lonely he'd been feeling lately thanks to Nicole, he found partying only made that emptiness more intensely felt. No, there was only one thing that could fill the void Jack had been feeling so much lately. He turned and headed for the next dorm over, confident that its computer room would be empty.
It was. Jack settled himself at a computer in the farthest corner, so even if anyone else did wander in from the party next door, they probably wouldn't notice any of the intimate text that would likely be on his screen before the night was over. Then he logged onto his favorite online community, pausing only long enough to settle on a female-sounding name that was sexy without being too obviously fake. Preferring to imagine himself in the city tonight, he settled on "Boston Babe". In no time at all, "she" was fielding curious, flirty and rude instant messages from everywhere and anywhere and Jack's loneliness was but a distant memory. Usually, Jack felt a great sense of guilt at the moment he made the decision to pretend to be a woman online -- but not tonight. There was a time and a place for indulging himself all he wanted, and this was it. And "Boston Babe", whose real name Jack soon decided was Katie, was too enticing for Jack to feel guilty right then.
Just as Becky had hoped, the computer room was empty but for one guy who appeared to be lost on the net somewhere. He didn't look up as Becky entered the room and set down the beer she'd collected on her way through the party in the lounge, so she returned the favor and said nothing as she took a seat at a computer on the other side of the room. The loud music and the partiers' revelry were muffled but audible, and Becky mused that perhaps she'd be persuaded to join after all depending on how things went online. But she wasn't in that mood just yet. Rather, she wanted to play. A nice, safe, anonymous round of flirting and maybe more, that was what Becky needed the most.
As she logged onto her favorite online community, a bit of a conundrum bubbled up. Usually Becky pretended to be male online, as it kept the netsex freaks at bay. But tonight she
was
a netsex freak, and not pretending this time would get her what she wanted and probably much, much more. It was the "much much more" that scared her, though, as she resolved to use her usual male handle, "CamaroBoy". All the minute questions about her favorite sports car notwithstanding, CamaroBoy was pretty good at keeping the rude and gross instant messages at a minimum. And "he" had actually had his fair share of pleasurable flings with like-minded young women who, Becky suspected, were probably really men. A few had been convincing enough that Becky reasoned they could really be female, and in such cases she'd longed to have a woman-to-woman talk with them about the world of sex that Jeff had ushered in for her earlier that year. But there was no way to tell for certain. Nor did she care really, as it was all harmless fun. She was confident CamaroBoy could find some harmless fun tonight as well.
After the usual login and its accompanying realization that there was no "fake" sign next to her handle, Becky set about looking for a playmate. The most salacious ones -- "Damp Panties," "HitOnMyClit" and "SexySuzy" among them -- she skipped over. Too obvious. They would surely be up for fun, but they probably wouldn't be any good at it. Maybe even underage. Yuck. Then she saw Boston Babe. That held some promise: quite possibly a man, but at least a reasonably subtle one. Boston wasn't far from there, either, so at least there was something nonsexual to start off the evening.
CamaroBoy: Hi! I'm near Boston myself. What's up this evening?
CamaroBoy? Jack couldn't recall talking to him before, and he wasn't crazy about guys who went on forever about their cars. This could be a boring conversation. On the other hand, CamaroBoy hadn't invited Katie to fuck or demanded to know her bra size on the very first message. That alone meant he was worthy of a respectful reply at least.
Boston Babe: Well hello. Where are you near here? I'm just back from a fancy schmancy dinner where they had too much wine and wasn't ready to go to bed. So if you're really asking "what's a babe like you doing on the internet on Saturday night?', there you have it!
CamaroBoy: A fancy dinner? Sounds like a better evening than I had, then. I'm at Cranrock College, out in the west suburbs. Lots of parties going on but I wasn't in the mood.
Jack's eyebrows flew up at the mention of Cranrock -- CamaroBoy was
here
?! Suddenly Jack regretted having replied: he could be chatting up and lying to any of his friends. Frantically he tried to recall if any of them had ever said anything about driving a Camaro or wanting to. He could think of none, thank heavens. At least that was something neutral to talk about.
But even as that thought crossed his mind, another instant message showed it was too late for neutral.
CamaroBoy: So, back from a fancy party -- I'll bet you're all dressed up!
Becky typed it out, imagining herself barefoot in a nice party dress, flirting with some guy over a nightcap in the privacy of her decadent Boston apartment. Who knows, she reasoned, maybe that's even what this gal really is doing?
What was Katie wearing?! Jack glanced around the room for inspiration, hoping a girl might have happened in from the party to give him ideas. There was a young woman across the room, it turned out, but she didn't appear to have come in from the party. She was wearing a plain top and a flowered skirt that had seen better days. But that would do, he concluded.
Boston Babe: It was a dinner party, nothing too formal. I'm wearing a floral print skirt and an offwhite sweater.
It sounded pleasant enough to Jack.
Nice enough for lounging around in before bed, too.
A woman after my own heart, Becky mused. For a split second, she thought about dropping the charade and offering up a good laugh with the news that she was dressed similarly. Anyone who dressed like that for a night on the town probably wasn't up for netsex anyway. But she didn't want to embarrass this Boston Babe, who sounded quite nice.
CamaroBoy: Nice! Very feminine, I like that.
Boston Babe: I am very fem, yes. I take it you're not with a handle like that? lol!
CamaroBoy: Hey, just because I like cars doesn't mean I also don't appreciate beautiful women!
