“Man, he shoved that beer can of his so far up my ass. It was incredible.” The crass words made me blush, but they also didn’t make sense.
Why would he want a beer can shoved up his…butt?
The half-drunk guy that was stretched out on the common room couch answered my unasked question. “It was great, but I’m just saying that thing was so thick I’ve been walking funny for days. Man, no more tops with dicks that wide. I’ll take a nice long thin one any day.”
Ohhh.
“You’re such a slut.” The other voice that seemed to be coming from the floor didn’t consider that a bad thing, if I read his tone of voice right. He seemed to think couch guy was funny. But I could have misunderstood.
I wasn’t a moron, but people’s reactions, especially to sexual things…confused me.
Like, why were they even talking about it at all? The middle of the common room in the dorms wouldn’t have been my first choice of locations to have that kind of discussion. Especially when there seemed to be endless parties going on. Not that I would have talked about something like that with someone anyway.
But still…a beer can?
I couldn’t stop my mind from trying to picture what he was talking about. I imagined a beer can on the old statues I’d seen pictures of, but my brain had other ideas. It immediately changed the cold marble to Logan. My roommate.
I shouldn’t know what he looked like naked, but I did.
I’d been raised with the idea that once you were old enough to take care of yourself in the bathroom, being naked was only acceptable if it was with your spouse, but no one else seemed to follow those rules. People walked around the dorms half-clothed on a regular basis—and then there were people like Logan.
He was naked constantly.
What could I do?
He’d clearly been raised with the idea that being naked was…appropriate. My parents had always said that we didn’t judge and must accept others for what they believed, but I wasn’t sure they’d meant things like this.
Naked strangers.
Sex talk.
Weird sex talk.
And naughty things under the bed.
Part of me said I should have told them how…sinful college seemed to be, but after the disaster of my junior year, I’d decided telling my parents probably wouldn’t be the best idea. That hadn’t worked out the way I’d expected, and after that, I’d started to realize they might be a bit out of touch with the real world.
It was a frightening realization—one that didn’t make it any easier to figure out what to do.
For everyone else, college seemed to be a time to explore. They explored alcohol. They discovered different ways and places to party. They switched majors like they were changing their clothes. They even tried…sex things.
And no one hid it.
They didn’t hide anything.
Everyone talked about their relationships and who they’d been with over the weekend and what turned them on. My roommate didn’t talk about what he was into, but that was probably because I annoyed him rather than any sense of privacy.
But was it really private when his…stuff was just under the bed in a box?
“I’m not a slut. I made him take me out to dinner first.”
Was that the current qualification not to be a slut?
“Hell, we even met for coffee before that, so I technically didn’t put out until the third date. That’s practically dragging my feet.” The guy on the couch chuckled and shifted as I gave up studying and just listened, trying to understand. “I’d have probably taken more time to think about it, though, if I’d known how big he was. Damn thing should have come with a warning label.”
Like the printing on a cup of coffee that said it was hot?
“Liar. You’d have bent over your drink right there if you’d known.” His friend’s laughter drifted over the sounds of people partying and the random bits of conversation that were floating around as people drifted in and out of the communal living area.
I probably should have gone back to my room when they’d started talking about sex—but my room was so quiet when Logan wasn’t there. Growing up with five siblings, my house had never been silent, and I hadn’t realized how hard that would be to adjust to when I’d moved out.
I’d always hoped I’d get a roommate I could relate to and who’d be my friend, but that hadn’t worked out quite the way I’d imagined. I’d gotten angry ones and distant ones and depressed ones and even a drug addict, but no one who wanted to hang out.
Now I had Logan, but I wasn’t sure what to do with him.
He was unlike anyone I’d ever met.
“Maybe, but next time I’ll have more common sense.” The guy on the couch didn’t say that with very much conviction so I wasn’t sure if he was being honest about that or not.
“Bullshit.” The guy on the floor snorted. “Ten bucks says you’re going to go back to fat-dick guy for another round in less than a month.”
Couch guy had said he’d suffered at least minor discomfort in being with a guy that big, so why would he go back? Logan’s penis wasn’t shaped like a beer can—it was longer and thinner than that—but would it be too big to please a partner? Would someone walk funny after being with him?
“You’re crazy.” He was clearly trying to sound convincing, but even I could hear the hesitation in his voice.
The internet sites I’d looked at had said that size wasn’t everything in pleasing a partner, but evidently, some penises could be too big. College was a constant source of new information—but nothing like my parents expected.
Floor guy laughed. “Oh yeah, maybe even two weeks. I’m thinking that once you forget how sore you are, you’re going to want more. Hell, or is that the goal? You into kinky shit like Finn? I heard something about him dating one of his professors or something. You missed your shot if you want someone who can dish it out.”
Finn?
Dish it out?
The only Finn on campus I knew was the one who lived just down the hall from me. He was helpful and polite—but kinky? I tried to piece together what the guy on the floor had said. There had been some associations between Finn and pain and dishing it out. Dishing out pain?
Finn was some kind of dominant?
I knew my knowledge of the subject was somewhat limited, but from what my friends Bryan and Kevin had told me, it wasn’t as scary as the internet made it sound. People did all kinds of things in the privacy of their own homes I never would have guessed, and from what Kevin had said, they even did it in groups and out in public too.
But Finn?
Evidently, couch guy found it difficult to grasp as well. “Finn? The quiet guy who lives above us and keeps complaining to the RA?”
Floor guy chuckled. “Yep.”
“No way. He’s not into that shit.” Couch guy couldn’t seem to decide if he believed his friend or not. “Really?”
“Oh yeah.” Floor guy paused for a moment and, from the sounds of it, was drinking more. “That girl I was dating a few months ago? She said she overheard him talking with some friends about that shit. He’s like some kind of master or something. Probably whips and chains and everything in his room.”
I’d seen Finn’s room on several occasions, but I didn’t think they’d find it helpful to know that he didn’t have any kind of equipment that was visible. Maybe he had a box like Logan? I had a feeling asking that would be inappropriate, however. At least, I had a feeling Bryan would say it was.
That had couch guy laughing so hard he was nearly in tears. “No way, man. With that roommate of his? There’s no way. She’s full of shit.”
“I don’t know. She was really convinced. And she was a bitch, not a liar. There’s a big difference.” Floor guy might have had a point because those two attributes were not always related, but I had to admit, I was leaning more towards couch guy’s response. It seemed so unlikely.
I wouldn’t have thought Bryan would be into…different things either, but from the odd remarks Kevin had made in teasing Bryan, there was at least a slim chance that both guys were into some kind of interesting lifestyle choices. So looks could definitely be deceiving. Bryan was quiet and nervous like Finn’s roommate Ryland, so maybe there were things I hadn’t noticed about all of them.
It really didn’t matter. Both Bryan and Finn were helpful, and while I shouldn’t approve of Bryan’s relationship with Maddox, because they weren’t married and were living together, what he did in the privacy of his own home was his business. So the same thing should apply to Finn. Right?
That led me to another thought. If Finn could be…different, then could Ryland? Were they like Kevin and Bryan in some way? Friends that shared some kind of common lifestyle? Would they be able to help me with Logan? Finn had to have had some kind of interaction with Logan; would he be able to explain how to handle the…situation?
Thinking about him made my head hurt, so I tried to focus back on the textbook in front of me. However, my brain didn’t seem to have the ability to concentrate. Evidently, hearing about someone’s sex life was more interesting than the psychology of entrepreneurship. I wasn’t sure why, since I found both topics to be fascinating, but I had to admit I wouldn’t get anything done if I didn’t find a new location to study in.
Closing my book as the two guys continued to tease and overshare in the public space, I wandered off just as they turned to a debate about how long was too long and what sort of kinks Finn might be into. I was curious to know the answer to the length issue, because based on what I’d seen of Logan’s body he was larger than the internet said was average, but didn’t think questions would be appreciated.
No one ever liked questions.
The internet had turned out to be a fount of information, but some of it wasn’t very helpful without more context.
I needed more context.
Unfortunately, there weren’t many people I could ask.
Finn seemed to be open to questions, but I didn’t know how to ask them. Then there was the issue of the things the drunk guys had debated, so I wasn’t sure if talking to Finn would be a good idea or not. Would he find it offensive? Kevin and Bryan were okay to talk to, but they’d been so busy lately I hadn’t seen them much, so that wasn’t helpful.
As I headed out of the common room, I had a split second to make a decision. Left or right? Stairs or out to the street? Room or library? Room or coffee shop?
The LGBTQ club on campus had a movie thing going on tomorrow, but for the time being it seemed like my options for social engagements were parties or studying somewhere and hoping I’d find someone to talk to. It usually wasn’t that easy, though.
The people I wanted to talk to weren’t the ones who wanted to talk to me.
For the most part, my mother would have liked the religious students who seemed to think I fit in with them, but she’d have been frustrated with their intolerance and limited view of the universe. I just wasn’t sure they were where I belonged. I had too many questions, and once they heard that I went to the LGBTQ meetings, they usually ended any friendship very quickly.
But people like Finn and Ryland weren’t any easier to get to know either.
They were nice and didn’t talk about their religious views, but still made me feel awkward. I was sure that wasn’t their intention, but they just seemed to know everything and always ended up looking at me like I was insane. I appreciated the information and how polite they were, but if they were really my friends, I had a feeling they wouldn’t look at me like that.
Friends joked and teased like the guys oversharing about beer can…penises. They didn’t look at you like you were some kind of highly intelligent bug.
Right?
Deciding to head back to my dorm because life just seemed too frustrating at the moment, I weaved my way through the random people and tried to ignore the music that was blaring from multiple rooms as I headed up the stairs. It wouldn’t have been that bad if they’d all been playing the same song, but when one was blasting country and the other what seemed to be techno music of some kind, thinking was impossible.
It made me glad I’d asked for noise canceling headphones for my birthday over the summer, even if that had led to a frustrating discussion about my living arrangements. Neither of my parents had been in favor of my living on campus, and the issues they’d heard about hadn’t made them any more confident in the decision.
Originally they’d wanted me to settle for the small Christian college one town over, but the school didn’t always like the people from our community. I’d also been lucky that they didn’t have a business program large enough for me to take the classes I’d wanted. That had given me the distance I’d thought I was craving, but it hadn’t made things easier.
My parents had actually tried to find me a new place to live because they thought the dorms were full of sin and crazy people. They weren’t exactly wrong, based on their definition, but I found some of the sin…interesting.
I’d been glad I hadn’t needed to lie when I’d gone home last summer. Being able to honestly say that I hadn’t done anything sinful was a relief, but it was also frustrating. How would I know how I felt about…things…if I didn’t have anyone to explore it with?
Sinning was much harder to do on your own.
As I reached my room and unlocked the door, I couldn’t help but wonder, would it really be sinful to kiss someone and to figure out who I was…what I liked?
I knew I didn’t need to have physical relations with someone to know I was gay. That’d been pretty obvious when I’d never wanted to talk about courting the girls in our community, but it was everything else after that where I was flailing.
Of course, if I’d realized there were other things to figure out before I’d gotten to college, it would have been helpful.
Any kinds of talks about sex growing up had always been centered around waiting to find the person who would become a spouse—or life partner, before the gay members of the community could get legally married. There just hadn’t been much more information than that aside from some basic anatomy that had been awkwardly explained.
Relationships had seemed like they boiled down to figuring out if you liked boys, girls, or both, and then waiting until God put the right person in your path so you could get married. Courting helped you figure out what God wanted, but it wasn’t supposed to be that complicated.
The rest of the world seemed to think it was more complex, and I was starting to agree with them. I was missing so much information, though.
How could I have known that people spanked each other because it felt good or that there were all kinds of relationships that were very different than my parents’? They’d always given me the impression that while our community had some conservative beliefs, we were very progressive in that we’d always welcomed people of all types. I couldn’t remember a time when there hadn’t been a variety of races and relationships in the community.
It just hadn’t occurred to me that while they were very accepting about some things, they’d completely shunned others.
Like what Logan seemed to want.
Tossing my books on my desk, I sighed and turned toward Logan’s bed. Lately, it seemed like the most eye-catching thing in the room, even though with the plain blue cover it wasn’t that different than mine. But it wasn’t really the bed that made it impossible to pull my gaze away from it. No, it was what was under it.
The box.
Logan had never hidden it or seemed to be embarrassed by it. He was just Logan. Bossy, naked, confusing Logan with a box of things under his bed I just couldn’t make any sense of. Glancing at the door, I tried to remember if he’d said when he’d get back.
He wasn’t the worst roommate I’d had. Logan was actually awake at the right times of the day and was generally sober. I’d only seen him slightly inebriated once, and I’d never seen him do drugs of any kind. I should’ve been relieved, but just because he wasn’t drunk and high didn’t mean he was the easiest person to live with.
He had very clear rules about my touching his things.
But I couldn’t help it. I just didn’t get it and there was this part of me that kept saying if I looked at it again maybe I’d understand. Logan didn’t see it that way, though. He just lectured about privacy and boundaries right before he stripped down.
Naked.
If I had to respect boundaries, then he should have to keep his clothes on.
Right?
Slowly walking over to the bed, I knelt down. Just one peek. I’d hurry. A quick glance wouldn’t hurt. Pulling it out carefully, I lifted the lid on the sturdy but beautiful wooden box and let myself look one more time.
There it was.
Well, they, really, but it was the mask in the center that always drew my attention. Everything else was just like background noise, possibly interesting but easy to tune out when there was something fascinating to focus on.
The red and gold of the puppy mask always made me want to touch it, but I knew I shouldn’t. It wasn’t mine, and I knew I shouldn’t even be curious about it, but I just couldn’t help it. Because of my conversations with Kevin and Bryan, I’d known what it was, but seeing it in a list of kinks online and having it there in person were two different things.
I just wasn’t sure why.
A door banging down the hall had me jumping and slamming the box closed. It’d been almost inaudible over the music that pounded up through the floor, but it was enough of a surprise that I pushed the box back under the bed and moved away from it.
Logan always seemed to know when I’d touched it.
He’d give me a look I couldn’t quite decipher and would get frustrated with me. Something about the lectures made my stomach whirl. I’d never liked getting punished at home, but there was something about Logan that made it worse…or maybe just different.
Forcing my legs to walk away, I went over to my desk and sat down. I was at college to learn, and I just had to keep reminding myself that. Unfortunately, something in me kept pointing out how much more I could really learn if I let myself ask the questions that were rolling around in my mind.
