This is a fictional story based on a fantasy scenario. This chapter establishes the characters and setting before the major events of the story. It's a bit long, but I recommend reading it as it sets up the context for the later scenes and future chapters. Themes include dominance and submission, dubious consent, and cuckold. All characters are 18+.
Chapter One: The Art of Seduction
In my final year of college I finally made the decision to leave the campus dormitories and live in my own place for the first time. I ended up moving into a little rental house near school with my friend Eric, who I had met two years before in a class, and had remained in touch with ever since. Though quite different in temperament and personality, I couldn't help being drawn to his charisma and bravado; a few years older than me and with significantly more life experience under his belt, Eric had taken me under his wing and helped me navigate the complex world of college social life that I struggled to understand. He was confident and friendly and always optimistic and positive, and made sure that I always had somewhere to be. It was a stroke of fortune that his old roommate had moved away for a job, and he invited me to take up the lease.
Living with Eric had many benefits. He had a decent job and wasn't concerned about money, as long as I contributed a bit to the rent, he was satisfied. He was generous with his own money, supplying us with food and booze that he regularly shared with friends. It was nice to feel like a popular host, though I knew all the effort and popularity was really due to Eric. He was fun to be around and kept me in touch with myself, without pressuring me to be anything I wasn't.
There were, however, a few instances in which sharing space with Eric was difficult. He had a tendency to be domineering, if not a bully then at least a big personality capable of drowning out smaller voices like mine. I didn't mind that much, as an introvert I never sought the center of attention, but it could become exhausting to be around. Furthermore, Eric's success with women was something impressive, and he frequently brought back female partners to share his bed for a night. Sorority members, cheerleaders, studious geeks, even a few older women returning for certificates made their way to our house and found themselves in his bed. When such was the case, it was inevitable that I overheard their passions, listening not by choice to the procession of various women orgasming themselves senseless to Eric's extraordinary skills.
I would lie awake and try not to remind myself that I was, indeed, still a virgin. At twenty-two years old things just hadn't seemed to go the right way for me yet. I blamed all manner of reasons: my focus on school, my lack of interest in anyone I had encountered so far, my lack of quality in attractive characteristics. Whatever the reason, not even proximity to Eric seemed to draw any attention to myself from the fairer sex, if they deemed to acknowledge me it was usually a polite but curt "hello", before their fixation returned to the real man they were there for. And so I would lie in bed, feeling my rather inadequate penis grow hard as I wondered what sensations Eric was experiencing as I overheard whichever woman he had over moaning his name.
I'd thought about asking him to tone it down, to be a bit more sparing with the sexual partners, but who was I to do that? Just because I wasn't getting any didn't mean he shouldn't. Besides that, he regularly paid more than his fair share of the bill and made sure the fridge was full of beer. So I resolved to tolerate the regular intervals of charged sexual activity on the other side of my wall, perhaps enjoying the experience of hearing it, of being that close to a woman in pleasure, knowing that it was the nearest I had ever been.
When my younger sister was accepted to the same school as me, I joined the family in congratulating her and celebrating her achievement. Nobody was surprised; she'd been near the top of her class and had always been a strong contender for the best school in our state. She was awarded several scholarships that would make attendance easier, certainly more manageable than my tuition had been. It was decided, in a rather odd twist of fate, that Clara would visit me over the summer to get a feel for the city and the campus, and figure out where she wanted to live. It was settled that she'd be living her first year in a campus dorm, but knowing the area would help her to decide which one to choose. Until then, she'd be staying with me for at least the last month of the summer vacation. Though I'd been given an internship on campus, I promised to be available as much as possible to help her adjust.
I hadn't seen Clara since last summer, having missed going home over Christmas. She was more than four years my junior, turning eighteen that June, and in my opinion had always been a remarkable girl. She was sweet and kind in nature, with a mild-mannered attitude and a bashful, reserved quality. She was devoted to school, and art in particular for which she was going to college to study. Privately, I felt that her dedication to studying had more to do with her need for recognition by parents and teachers than any true passion for the subjects. She always strove to be first, to earn the admiration of her authority, sometimes at the expense of her peers. This fact, along with her shy, introverted nature, had kept her from making more than a handful of friends in school, and she had never dated.