Fuck Valentine's Day

by C. M. Stunich

  Rational Andi: They're from your fucking stalker, you dumb ass. You dropped them after you made an ass out of yourself. The professor was the one that found them and picked them up, friggin' sniffed them, and tried to bring them out to you. You're lucky Preston was there to interfere.

  I did not ask my rational mind how she knew things that I clearly did not (or maybe she was just guessing) and accepted the panties gratefully. After all, I wasn't wearing any. Maybe I could just slip into the bathroom and put them on?

  “Wow, this is awkward,” I said as Preston stepped back and revealed the empty space where Quinn had been. That asshat! I thought angrily as I looked around and found hide nor hair of him. “But, uh, thanks, and sorry.” Preston's right brow quirked, just the one. “You know for, uh, hurting your head and all.”

  “My head is fine,” he said and somehow, I got this sort of flirty vibe from him. It gave me the chills down my spine. “But what I'd really like to know is how you managed to drop your underwear in a lecture hall. Doesn't happen everyday, you know.” I paused and opened my mouth to explain, but I was a pretty shitty liar, so nothing came out but air and more spit. Yep, I was a drooler for sure. Attractive, Andi. Nice job.

  “I have to go,” I said as I turned away suddenly. Preston caught my arm at the last second, spun me to face him and pulled me close, kissing the hell out of me as I struggled to grasp two things. First, was that geeky Preston was a better kisser than badass Quinn, and second, that his hand was creeping down my back towards my ass. I shoved him in the chest, not because I wanted to, but because he was dangerously close to discovering that I was commando and tried to come up with something to say. Two years I had stalked Preston and only now was anything happening because of it. Maybe he'd been crushing on me all that time, too? But no, I wasn't that lucky.

  “Don't be a stranger,” he said, and then he turned around and disappeared back into the auditorium leaving me even more confused than I'd been earlier. Twenty-two years and hardly any interest from the opposite sex. Now, suddenly, just days before the worst holiday of the year, I was getting crushed on by not one but two, possibly three (including my stalker), guys? What the heck?

  Rational Andi: You're exuding whore pheromones. Put on some damn Chanel or some shit. Cover up that crap.

  Horny Andi: Go to hell and rot.

  I stuffed the panties in my book bag and peeled the envelope off of the handcuff box. I'm not going to lie and say I wasn't this close to chasing after Preston Ellis and using my new gift on him, but I did have priorities. First of which was finding my mystery man and determining if I was going to kiss him at first sight or have him arrested. Either of which was fine by me so long as I got my inner monologue down to a few lines a day. At this point, Rational Andi and Horny Andi were just two steps away from putting me into an insane asylum.

  Congratulations. You're getting better at this. Tomorrow, after your lit class, there will be a clue attached to the bulletin board outside the classroom door. I'm not going to give you any hints, but you should know which one's mine. Try not to have too much fun with these without me.

  I crumbled the note up in frustration and shoved it into my bag along with the handcuff box. So the little bitch was going to drag this out and make me wait. Fine. I could do that. I could handle the wait. The question was, could my libido?

  “So then Preston just – ” I slammed the butts of my palms together for emphasis. “Up and kisses me. And by that time, Quinn was nowhere to be seen. He just split without a single word, and then he was waiting for me at my car later; I don't even know how he knew which one was mine. I just walked into the parking lot and BAM, there he was, leaning on the hood like a fucking porn star. Nothing happened after that. I didn't even say hi to him because I was kind of pissed off. I mean, seriously, what the fuck?” I paused. I wanted to tell Gen about the handcuffs, but I was afraid she was going to be judgmental. Still, she was my best friend, so I just went for it and opened up. I prefaced my words with, “I really appreciate you being such a good listener.”

  “Oh, baby,” Gen cried out as Lance drove into her and the couch springs went into overload. I was standing in the downstairs bathroom looking into the mirror, wishing the two of them would stop fucking, so I could finish my conversation. In all honesty, I was there first and Gen really, truly was listening, and then that asshat piece of shit had to saunter in and then well, I might as well have turned invisible. They had their pants off before I was even off the couch. I saw Lance's dick for the first time and let me just say, I wasn't very impressed.

  “Mystery Man has a much nicer cock,” I said to the reflection who was posing as my fictional, best friend Gen, the one I wished Genevieve Pares would be, but never could because she was too self centered and probably a nymphomaniac. “But what I am supposed to think about the handcuffs? Is he spying on me through my window or something, or is it just a coincidence? Either way, I mean it is creepy, but I just can't get him out of my head. If I was to take all the guys I've ever really had a thing for, it would go like this: Mystery Man, Preston Ellis, Quinn Prentis, and Jake Tandor.”

  Rational Andi: Jake Tandor was a douche.

  Regular Andi: Can you please stop? You and Horny Andi are like days away from putting me into an institution.

  Horny Andi: That's your own damn fault. Go get laid.

  Rational Andi: Yeah, seriously, that's your problem. You do need to get laid. I can't deny it anymore. The situation has spiraled out of control. You don't want them to remake the 'Forty Year Old Virgin' eighteen years from now – with you as the main character.

  Horny Andi: Yeah, and they won't even have to write a script. They'll just do a documentary and it will be twice as funny.

  Rational Andi: Good one, Horny, that was hilarious. Totally. Totally.

  “Goddamn, I am fucked up,” I said as I tried to ignore the very early signs of Schizophrenia and trudged back up to my room to get dressed. I had little butterflies in my stomach, butterflies that were completely and utterly convinced that today was the day where I finally met the man whose cock had been riding around in my bag for days. I was certain that he was going to reveal himself to me in the most romantic way, sweep me off my feet, and show me a good time. He was going to be tall with dark hair and blue eyes, muscular but not beefy, and kind. His lovemaking was going to be so perfect, so on point that the Gods themselves would invite him to join them on Mount Olympus. He was –

  Rational Andi: Dear God, can you please shut the fuck up?

  I sighed, and pulled out of my fantasies. I wasn't an idiot, okay? It wasn't like I didn't realize how stupid I sounded. A guy sent me a picture of his dick in the mail. That's fucking weird. Still, I couldn't help but follow this thing to the end. As long as he didn't ask me to meet him in a dark alley alone and unarmed in the middle of the night, I figured I was okay.

  So I dressed myself in a pair of red skinny jeans, a black tank top, some tennis shoes, and a winter coat and headed to class.

  Quinn was waiting for me when I arrived.

  “Hey there, Andi,” he said, and it honestly took me several seconds to respond as he'd never used my actual name before. Impressive. Very impressive. Quinn grinned at me and nibbled at his sexy lip. His Mohawk was in full form, nice and spiky and straight up and down, gelled to perfection. Despite the chill winter air, he was wearing a white tank that did everything to show off his muscular arms and his myriad tattoos, and nothing to ward off the chill of winter.

  “Aren't you freezing to death?” I asked him as I shivered and glanced surreptitiously over at the bulletin board. It was absolutely covered in crap. There were ads for roommates, for tutors, for summer jobs; there were sales flyers for the local mall and the campus bookstore, even ads proclaiming their need for a sexual partner to spend Valentine's Day with. How the hell was I supposed to find Price Albert in all of that? Hmm? I was hoping to hell that he was going to be a tad less mysterious this time or I would never be able to find my next clue, and I wanted it.
Oh trust me, I wanted it.

  “I was until you showed up,” Quinn said, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around my waist. I was going to protest, to bark at him for disappearing on me yesterday, when his warm lips pressed against mine and silenced all logical thought. Mmm.

  “Did you miss me as much as I missed you?” Quinn asked as he pulled back and threw a lascivious wink my way. He brushed the hair from my face as I struggled to come up with something to say.

  “Um, no,” I said which was the honest truth. I hadn't missed him, not really. I'd thought about him, but then, that isn't really the same thing, now is it? Besides, I hardly knew the guy. Wet humping aside, we'd barely spoken a dozen words to one another. “Anyway, I didn't appreciate you running off yesterday. Where the hell did you go?” Quinn rubbed at his face with his hand and tried to play off his reaction as nonchalant when I could see that in reality, something was bothering him. The tattoos on his fingers danced enticingly before me as he pretended to itch his face.

  “You seemed pretty comfortable with that teacher,” he said, no doubt referencing Preston Ellis. “Like maybe you knew him or something?”

  I blinked and tried not to sound stupid when I said, “Huh?” The strange tone in Quinn's voice was not jealously (though it would've been nice if it had been), but rather something else. Fear, I think. What the hell?

  “Why?” I asked as Quinn's head followed the ass of a very hot, very blonde coed into the doors of our lit class. I rolled my eyes and tried to resist the urge to punch him in the stomach. I wished Scar Face was there, if only briefly, so he could do it for me. Bet that would've gotten Quinn's undivided attention. “Let's get to class,” I said as I moved away, certain that I didn't want to miss today's lecture on the importance of grammar in dissertations. Much as that subject fascinated me, I had other thoughts on the brain. Still, it wouldn't do to hang outside and wait. If I did then my secret admirer might see me there and decide not to approach. I couldn’t let that happen. If this guy escaped without me knowing who he was, I was going to be awfully ticked off. Or maybe I was just really horny. That can cause severe mood swings and changes in behavior, you now.

  “Are you sure you want to go class?” Quinn asked as he leaned in for another kiss and tried to press the aching bulge of his erection against me. I resisted the urge to just let go and let him do what he wanted to do. I wanted it, really, really wanted it, but it would definitely not do for my stalker – I mean secret admirer! – to catch me playing bump and grind with Mr. Tattooed, Sexy and Fuckable. Even if he was an ass. I watched as his gaze caught on the jiggling goodies of yet another coed and slapped his arm.

  “Seriously?” I said, and he shrugged, holding out his elbow for me to take as he lead us into the darkness of the lecture hall and found us a pair of seats off from everyone else near the back of the room. There was a slide show up front titled The Life of the Comma – Her Use, Abuse, and Effect on Modern Literary Writing. Snore! My eyelids were already creeping down and getting ready for a catnap. This hour was going to stretch into eternity while my mind spun a million different ways that this could all end. Or not. My secret admirer might never want to reveal himself. What if he wanted to play this cat and mouse game forever? Then what would I do? Pick the next guy in line? I shivered and tried not to think too hard about my kiss from Preston Ellis. I didn't know how to address it. Did I seek him out and ask him? I didn't even know where he lived. My best bet was to wait for my calc class next week and see what he had to say to me, if anything.

  Don't be a stranger.

  What the hell did that mean? Quinn, who thought he was being subtle but wasn't, began to moan from next to me, and it only took me about three seconds to realize what he was doing with his backpack sitting on his lap and his hand buried beneath it. He was jacking off. In the middle of class. Holy cupcake!

  “Quinn,” I began, but he just winked at me.

  “Thought this might help you get in the mood,” he said, and I was struck with the urge to both punch him and kiss him at the same time. Immediately, my body alerted me to my situations on the feeling by becoming quite moist and rather excited at the idea of this public display of indecency. I mean, after all, this was not something that I had encountered on a regular basis and the unusual, to me, was rather arousing.

  Rational Andi: Or maybe you're just a desperate virgin?

  I squelched my thoughts and tried to focus on the proper way to use a comma with conjunctions while I tried to ignore the soft murmurs falling from Quinn's round, sexy lips. The man had a porn star mouth, no joke. It was all moist and hot and shaped like a bow tie. I swallowed hard and tightened my fingers around the ends of my armrests.

  “Come on, Andi,” Quinn whispered, all husky and sexy. “I told you, you don't have to touch me if you don't want to, but you could always touch yourself.” I leaned towards him, convinced that the brunette two seats up and three over could hear us and would soon stand up and announce our debauchery for all of the class to hear.

  “I am not going to have a mutual masturbation session with you in the middle of a lecture.” And then, feeling satisfied that I'd made my point, I leaned back and kept my gaze pointed forward. Quinn continued to, uh, spank it, while I continued (and failed) to ignore the noises from down under.

  “Did you bring lube?” I whispered as the wet, slick sound from next door increased in volume.

  “Yeah,” he whispered, eyes hazy and far away. “I don't like to whack it dry; it decreases sensitivity.” I put a hand up to shield my face from his giddy, loopy, droopy one and tried not to sigh.

  “Thanks for sharing,” I said as I shifted and squeezed my thighs together tightly. This whole situation was just weird and totally wrong, but it was also kind of hot. Super hot. Like, tear-off-your-panties-and-straddle-that-bitch hot. Maybe if I just reached down and sort of stroked myself through my jeans … I shook my head to clear it and took a deep, cleansing breath.

  “When you're using commas to indicate a natural pause in a sentence, you must be very careful not to – ” My gaze wandered back to Quinn who was still going at it like he was at home in his dorm room, oblivious, carefree. I couldn't help but wonder how many girls he'd done this very same thing with. I decided not to ask. It would only make the situation that much worse.

  “Join me, beautiful,” he said as he stroked his cock with rapid fire movements that made my head spin. “I can't come unless I know you're doing it, too.”

  “Then I guess you're just going to be stuck in blue ball land because there is no way in hell that I'm touching myself, okay? You're hot and all, but I'm just not comfortable with PDAs.” I paused. PDA was not the right word. This was not a public display of affection, this was a public display of absolute, complete, and utter lack of self-control. I mean, I bet the man jacked it a dozen times a day in the privacy of his own home. Did he really need to do it in public, too?

  “Oh God,” he moaned and this time, I wasn't imagining it. Brunette Girl turned around to look at us and gave Quinn a very confused once over. “I think I'm there, Andi.”

  “Okay, but can you keep your grunts of pleasure down to a minimum, please?” I whispered, wondering where all of that, you know, that stuff was going to go when he actually did finish. I glanced across the aisle at the other empty row and thought about moving away from Quinn when his hand came out of nowhere and cupped me right between the legs.

  A moan escaped my lips. A very loud, very guttural, very husky moan that reverberated around the rear rows of the auditorium like it was being played on a surround sound speaker system.

  Heads turned, eyes focused, expressions wrinkled.

  Shit.

  I shoved Quinn's hand away from me and left him with his pants undone and his backpack covering his erection while I hightailed it out of there and stumbled across the cement courtyard to the bulletin board. I grabbed the edge of the wood and dropped my book bag to the ground while I tried to catch my breath.

  “Wait up,” Quinn calle
d, not as far behind me as I would've liked. “What's the matter? I thought you were interested in me.”

  “I am,” I said as I stayed bent over and tried to breathe. How many of the students heard? Thirty? Forty? Will they remember my face? Did they know what was happening? Maybe they thought I was having cramps or something? Yeah, that's it. That's my story. I was crampy and didn't have any Midol on me, so I moaned in pain. No big deal, right?

  Rational Andi: Keep telling yourself that, sugar cakes.

  One day, I was going to commit a random act of violence, and it was going to be against that bitch. If she kept at it, I was going to spend a whole day reading the Twilight Saga and see how she liked them apples.

  Rational Andi: No! Please, anything but that! I swear to God, I'll be a good girl.

  I turned to Quinn with a smirk that I don't think he quite understood.

  “Cool,” he said, and then, “Want to try something fun?”

  I stared at him.

  “Fun?” I ventured, wanting very much to turn around and examine the bulletin board, but not wanting Quinn to know about my secret admirer. After all, I was saving him in case things didn't work out with Mystery Man or Preston.

  “Classes don't end for another forty minutes.”

  I pursed my lips.

  “But that doesn't mean people don't walk by.”

  “It'll only take a minute.”

  “What will only take a minute?”

  “This.” Quinn opened his pants and let his uncircumcised penis hang out like a damn flag, blowing in the wind all graceful and shit.

  “Jesus H. Christ, Quinn.”

  “I'm halfway there,” he whispered with his porn star mouth, and then he was all up in my face, kissing my neck and rubbing his erection against me. It was a hard thing to deal with – literally. It was like, rock solid when I reached out and wrapped my fingers around it. Oooh, velvety. My first, real penis grab. Nice.