From: narkiewi@venice.pilgrim.umass.edu (J. David Narkiewicz)
Subject: In HOT Pursuit of Safe Sex, 3200 Words
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
I'd been waiting months for this. Ever since I'd met Laura in
Psychology 106, I'd wanted to get together with her and let the
sparks fly. We're both sophomores at the same small private college
but don't really run with the same circle of friends. Purely by
some act of divine intervention we bumped into each other at a
party. Two glasses of wine later she was relaxed to the point of
being tipsy and decided to accompany me back to my dorm room. She
wasn't drunk, just tainted enough so that her inhibitions were
down. From fumbling with the keys to my apartment, to fumbling
with her clothes, we'd made it to my bed. I, Rob Watson, average
guy, history major, Virgo was about to sleep with the most
beautiful woman in the school.
There she lay. Long blonde hair cascading over her luscious
breasts. It was impossible to believe that Laura was in my dorm
room. In a matter of seconds we were going to consummate my year's
worth of lust.
Through my open bedroom window, I looked out at the starry
night. I'd never seen so many stars. Everything was so romantic.
It was a warm Spring evening and the breeze caressed my naked
body. The wind played with Laura's hair, making her all the more
tantalizing.
I turned my attention back to kissing her. With my right
hand, I reached over and pulled my ticket to ecstasy, a condom,
from the drawer of my night stand. It was the last one out of the
twelve pack I'd bought a month ago. Guess, I'd saved the best for
last.
My hands were shaking as I started to tear the orange package
open. Laura moaned and reached out for me. Grabbing me, she pulled
me close. Where was it? Engulfed by her tight embrace, the condom
had been knocked from my hand.
Laura kept kissing me feverishly as my eyes darted feverishly
about the floor of the room. I couldn't see it.
``Enter me, Rob. Enter me.''
With one hand I kept groping along the floor. Still no
condom. It wasn't under the bed. It wasn't in the pile of our
hastily removed clothes.
Her pelvis was grinding against mine. ``Rob, enter me. Enter
me.''
Laura's not-so-innocent green eyes fluttered open. ``Rob,
don't make me wait another second.''
I smiled, trying not to show my nervousness. Stalling for
time, I returned to kissing her. My eyes were still scanning every
crack and crevice of the room. The condom had just vanished.
I wasn't protected, but with her body frantically begging me,
I doubted Laura would have cared if I entered her now. Her tongue
darted playfully in and out of my ear.
Just do it. Who cares about the consequences?
I do. What if I catch something?
So what. You'll either have to get a shot of penicillin or
you'll get AIDS.
But if I get AIDS, I'll die.
But you'll reach the afterlife with a smile on your face.
You've got a point there.
Just about too... Wait! Pregnancy! Forget right to life. One
abortion would cost around three hundred dollars. That's two
semesters' worth of books. Nearly twenty cases of beer!
Pregnancy. Who cares? It's worth three hundred dollars.
Isn't it?
No!
No?
No!
Please. Pretty please.
Laura started kissing my neck. Her lips were working at a
feverish pace.
Yes...
I mean, no...
I mean...
Just as I was about to tempt fatherhood and a wide variety of
sexually transmitted diseases, I saw it. There, perched
precariously across my window ledge, was the condom. It was
hanging half on and half off. Below it was seven floors to the
ground. Act quickly or be condemned to a night of celibacy.
My hand shot out to save the precious commodity. At this
point divine intervention decided to make me earn Laura. I knew it
had been too easy. One of those warm spring breezes kicked up. It
played with Laura's hair making her look all the more tantalizing.
My hand shot out to grab the condom, but the breeze lifted it off
the window ledge. For the briefest moment, it stood upright,
erect, just waiting to be grabbed. Then the wind died and the
condom collapsed, spilling over the edge, into the great world
beyond my bedroom. Empathizing with the condom, I went limp.
Following my last-ditch effort to save the condom, I found
myself sprawled on the floor. Laura sat up and looked down at me
blinking in bewilderment.
I gave her a nervous smile. ``I have to go.''
``What? Where are you going?'' Her eyes were so huge, so
inviting.
There was no need to expound on my own stupidity, so I stood
up and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. ``Don't worry. I'll be
right back.''
I reached for the first thing I saw, the towel which was
hanging on the bed post. Wrapping it around my waist, I was out
the window onto the fire escape. The metal grating under my feet?
No latex monster. No rubber. No glove.
I headed down to the sixth level. The fire escape was not
designed to be comfortable on bare feet. Ow, oh, ow, argh and then
I saw it. By some miracle, the condom was wedged in the grating of
the floor. Yes, salvation. I leapt over the last few steps and
landed right next to it. My hundred and eighty pound frame
successfully shook the fire escape and down it fell, fluttering
aimless towards the parking lot below my room. It meandered its way
into the darkness and landed somewhere near a pickup truck and a
hatchback.
At the expense of my feet, I raced down the fire escape. At
the second floor landing, I was forced to stop. There I was faced
with a ladder that lowers the last flight when you put your weight
on it. Winded, I rested for a moment to catch my breath and scan
the parking lot below. I figured the best way to locate the condom
was to search for it from this high vantage point. My eyes scanned
the darkness, but no inviting orange-wrappered savior.
Two women, a blonde with dark roots and a brunette, were
leaving the back door of the dorm and heading towards section of
the parking lot where the condom had decided to hide. They gave me
a strange look. What? Hadn't they ever seen a man wearing only a
towel scanning a parking lot from a fire escape?
The two women got into the pickup. When they opened the
truck's doors, the light inside the cab came on, and I saw it.
There in the bed of the pickup truck was the condom. I screamed,
``Stop!''
The pseudo blonde woman in the drivers
seat gave me a ``You think I'd stop for you, you pervert,'' look and
started the engine. As the driver put the pedal to the floor and
roared off, I threw one leg over the railing.
My destination the pickup truck's bed, I jumped, ``Geronimo!'',
and missed. It had pulled away too quickly and I found myself, a
crumpled, muddy, soggy heap in the middle of Great Lake size
puddle.
There was no time to revel in the pain or be concerned with
how dirty and wet I was. I limped at a sprint after the truck.
``Stop! Stop! Come back here, you condom thieves.''
Both women turned around and saw a mud splattered man, wearing
only a towel, chasing them. The driver gunned the engine. I cut
through two lines of parked cars and was able to intercept them
before they got out of the lot. As the pickup truck raced past I
leapt into the air and executed a perfect swan dive, actually
landing in the back of the truck.
Scrambling around the truck bed, I found the condom. Yes,
yes, ecstasy was soon to be mine. I gave the orange wrapper a
passionate kiss. I looked up and both women were staring at me.
Hard to believe that it was the first time they'd ever seen a
scantily dressed guy, covered with mud, stowing away on their truck
and kissing a condom. Yet it came so naturally to me. I stopped
kissing the condom and gave them a friendly wave. They
simultaneously waved back but with only one finger. The driver
kept accelerating. I crawled forward and knocked on the window.
Both women ignored me. ``Stop the truck. Stop the truck, please.''
The driver kept up her Indy 500 pace, but why? All I wanted
her to do was stop the truck. They were not cooperating. Might it
have something to do with my lack of attire and the condom I was
holding. My intentions were honorable. Even if they hadn't been,
at least I'd been considerate enough to bring a rubber. I was
faced with the age-old male dilemma of convincing women that I
meant no harm. Typically I'd just say something like, ``Sure, I
love you.'' or ``At this moment, you mean everything to me.''
Unfortunately, I was not pursuing either of them below the waist.
Just because I was nearly naked didn't mean my intentions were
sexual.
The truck was driving along at a breakneck speed. Every once
in a while the woman in the passenger side looked back at me making
sure I didn't have a gun or anything. They were heading away from
campus and toward the center of town. Why?
The police! They were racing towards the police station. I
started pounding more frantically. ``Stop. Stop the God damned
car!'' Great, just great, I was going to spend my first night with
Laura in jail, while she enjoyed my bed alone.
``Stop the car. Freak of nature, I know you dye your hair. You
dark rooted monster. Stop the God damned car!''
We came to a red traffic light and the driver was forced to
slow down to around fifty before running it. I jumped before the
truck entered the intersection and landed on the grassy shoulder of
the road. Thrown head first down an embankment, I wasn't really
concerned with what happened to my body as a whole. Holding the
condom tightly, I prayed I'd survive with my manhood intact.
My head was spinning as I got up, but I still had the condom
clutched in my hand. There was a colossal bump over my right
temple. The towel was nowhere to be seen. I crawled up the side of
the gully, found what was left of the battered terry cloth rag and
wrapped it around my waist. Goose bumps formed on my goose bumps
and my teeth started to chatter. Where had the warm spring breezes
gone to? The night had turned chilly and my tattered towel didn't
afford me much protection.
I estimated it was three miles to campus. Hitchhiking was out
of the question. It was well into the wee hours of the morning and
I looked like an escapee from an institution for the criminally
perverted. It was not a matter of getting a ride. It was a matter
of what kind of weirdo would pick me up in my present state of
dress.
Then I saw it, a cab. During my quest for safe sex, I'd
somehow redeemed myself. Back in the favor of the divine being, I
raised my hand, hailing the taxi. Then I saw that the thing on top
of the car wasn't a cab light, but a police light. Flashing blue
it came towards me leaving only two options. I could be honest and
end up spending the rest of the night in jail. The dyed blonde was
probably the officer's daughter. Above and beyond indecent
exposure, attempted rape and numerous felonies, he'd probably run
me in just for mentioning her dark roots. My other choice was to
run and try to make it back to campus.
Cursing the divine being, I bolted into the woods. My feet
were numb, no longer feeling pain. Clutching the towel in one hand
and the condom in the other, I bounded through the brush. The
officer didn't make much of an attempt to follow me. Staying in
his car, he shined his searchlight into the woods, but I was long
gone. After a while, he'd returned to his favorite donut shop to
eat, drink and flirt with the sixteen year old waitresses.
Meanwhile, I headed parallel to the road until I thought it was
safe.
Back on the street, I was forced to jump into the bushes
whenever I saw a car's headlights. I think the police car cruised
by a couple more times, but I was too busy cowering in the high
grass and scrub to notice. What, weren't the waitresses flirting
back tonight?
By the time I made it back to campus, two or three eternities
had passed. I was chilled to
the bone, my feet were a swollen mess and I had scratches over my
entire body. Looking on the bright side, I did still have the
condom. Maybe I was now eligible for Dr. Ruth's coveted award, the
Safe Sex Citation. It was a bronzed condom which you hung around
your neck. It was a kind of pointless award, since I doubted if I
was enough of a man to use a bronze condom.
I turned the handle on the front door of my dorm; locked. The
side doors? Locked. No pockets. No key. I doubted if I could
pick the lock with a condom wrapper so back to my room the same way
I'd descended from it.
Standing underneath the fire escape, I realized that the only
way up to the second level was to climb up onto the dumpster which
was underneath it and jump for it.
With the condom between my teeth, I scaled the dumpster.
Standing on the edge over the trash pit, I prepared to jump up to
the fire escape which would lead me to fornication's splendor.
On a good day, I could slam dunk a basket ball. This leap was
going to be nothing in comparison. Summoning the last of my
strength, I jumped. My fingers grabbed for the floor on the second
level of the fire escape. I missed by a good two feet. The leap
was really nothing in comparison to a slam dunk. ``Ahhhhgggg!'' I
landed on my back inside the dumpster.
Condom still clutched between my teeth, I crawled out of the
trash, filth and residue. There was a banana peal stuck to my left
thigh. I peeled it off and returned it to its friends in the
dumpster's trash pit. At least I was no longer only covered only
with mud and perspiration. Coffee grounds, carbon paper, and a
variety of rotten vegetables could now be added to the list of my
offenses against the personal hygiene codes.
Today there was no way I could slam dunk a basket ball, let
alone make the jump up to the second level. I was almost in tears.
I wasn't sad, just frustrated and not in the sexual sense. My
libido had long since been tamed by fatigue. I was going to sleep
with Laura if it killed me. It was no longer a matter of lust. I
had a mission. I was Job and God was testing me. I was Abraham
ordered to slay my own son. I was Adam being tempted by Eve.
Scratch that last one. It hit too close to home.
With no better alternatives than shivering or picking through
the trash, I thought and thought and thought.
Then it struck me. The bottom rung of the ladder hung down fairly
low. If I stood on the dumpster and leaned out, I could probably
almost reach it. As a fringe benefit, the ladder lowered next to
the dumpster as opposed to in it. This was because the last thing
people wanted when descending a fire escape was to be deposit in a
pile of garbage. Then again, the last thing someone wanted when
ascending a fire escape was to be deposited in a pile of garbage.
I could probably throw a rope over the bottom rung. By
grabbing both ends of the rope, I could swing out and pull the
ladder down. This way I could use the ladder to climb up to the
second level and Laura was mine once more. The question was, where
could I get four feet of rope?
I stood up. Having no choice, I took off my towel. From
corner to corner it was long enough. Standing there in the buff,
on the edge of the dumpster, I managed to catch the bottom rung of
the ladder with the towel.
I grabbed both ends of it and psyched myself up for beating
this final obstacle. As I swung out on my makeshift vine, I was
tempted to let out a Tarzan yell. Rob Watson as Tarzan in ``The
Naked Jungle'' or is that Rob Watson as the naked Tarzan in
``The Jungle''? Either way, I found myself swinging on the end of a
vine/rope/towel in the nude. The ladder was being obstinate by not
sliding down as it was supposed to. It refused to lower itself so
I could climb up it to my Rapunzel. Having already summoned the
last of my strength on several other occasions, I resummoned the
last of my strength and started climbing up the towel. When I got
to the fire escape I grabbed onto the flooring and started to climb
the railing. My arms were burning with fatigue. Hand over hand,
I could feel my muscles giving way, but somehow my desire to
practice procreating the species drove me over the railing.
Landing in a gasping heap, I'd made it.
After a brief rest, I reached down under the fire escape to
grab my towel. It wasn't there.
I looked down and there it lay next to the dumpster. During my
climb over the railing, it had fallen to the ground. No matter, I
was six flights from my room. Nothing could stop me from having
sex, not even total nudity.
I felt like an Olympic athlete carrying the torch. In my case
it was a condom that I carried over my head. Six flights of stairs
and one wheezing college student later, I was standing outside my
window. To my surprise and dismay the window was shut. I tried to
open it, but it was either jammed or locked, probably both.
Knocking on the window, I called out to her, ``Laura, I'm back.''
The light in the room was on, but she was gone along with her
clothes.
My first priority was
to get inside. Once I did this, I could turn my attention towards
getting inside Laura. There was a chance that she'd only gone to
the bathroom or to get a drink of water.
There was a fairly simple solution to my problem. I walked
down two flights to my friend Tony's room and knocked on the
window. There was no answer. I knocked again. ``You ass hole
Tony, wake up.''
I heard someone moving about inside the room. Tony came to
the window wearing a bathrobe. Opening the window up halfway, he
gave me a puzzled look. ``Is that mud monster you Rob?''
``Come on Tony let me in.''
``What the hell happened to you?''
``I'll tell you tomorrow. Just let me in.''
He gave me an embarrassed smile. ``I can't let you in.''
Obviously, we weren't the best of friends.
``What do you mean? Let me in so I can get back to my room.''
``I can't. I'm entertaining a very shy guest.''
``I won't look, just let me in.''
He started to shut the window. ``Tony, don't do it.''
Tony's eyes lit up. He opened the window again and gave me a
big smile. ``What's that you've got in your hand?''
``Its a God damned condom Tony.''
``Let's make a deal.''
``Okay, anything. Just let me in.''
``I'll give you my key so you can get in the building. But you
have to give me your condom.''
So there where two of us in the same building in need of some
contraception. Still, how dare he? This condom was worth more
than its weight in gold. It had flown through the air, been
kidnapped by a couple of neurotic women and had run from the
police. ``No, never. It's mine.''
Tony smiled. ``Fine, then stay outside.'' He started to shut
the window.
``You bastard.''
Inch by inch he lowered it. Having no choice, I nodded my
head fanatically. ``Okay, I'll do it.'' Tomorrow I'd buy a gun and
kill Tony. No, I'd use an axe or something suitably gruesome.
Right now I needed a shower and some their sleep. Besides, Laura
was probably gone for good.
He exchanged his room key for the condom. I didn't really
care anymore. I hated sex. If I ever slept with another woman ever
again, it would be too soon.
I made it down to the second level landing. I found that the
ladder was held by a metal pin. Taking out the pin, I rode the
ladder to the ground and retrieved my towel.
Once back inside the building I went to the elevator. There
was a sign on it, ``Out of Order'' Great. As I started walking up
the stairs to my room, my tired, sluggish mind started putting it
all together. Laura had been in my room. She was wanton and now
she was gone. Tony was in his room with a shy guest. He needed a
condom and...
I raced up the stairs to the fifth floor. I was going to kill
him. I didn't need a gun or an axe; I'd use my bare hands. Using
Tony's key, I opened the door to his room. I leapt onto him and
Laura. Tearing through several layers of sheets I found Tony's
neck and started strangling him. ``You bastard, how could you do
this to me?''
Tony swung around and drove his knee into my groin. I doubled
over in pain as he shoved me off the bed. ``What the hell is your
problem?''
I looked up at him with hate in my eyes and pain in my groin.
Glancing over at his companion, I saw it wasn't Laura. It was this
sexy professor who taught philosophy. Tony and I had been secretly
lusting after her for the longest time. Underneath the mud and
filth, my face turned bright red. ``Excuse me Tony. Excuse me
Professor Sheldon.''
Tony just glared. I hitched my towel up and hobbled towards
the door. ``Sorry. Case of mistaken identity.'' I made it up to
my room. The door was unlocked. Thank God for small miracles. On
the bedside table was a note:
Rob,
I don't know where you ran off to, but I was very
disappointed. When you get in give me a call. Any time, any
day, I'll be there. Even tonight. 546-9056
Love,
Laura
I reached inside the drawer of my bedside table and took out
a book of matches. Setting the note on fire, I held it with my
finger tips until it was completely destroyed and then threw its
charred remains in the waste basket. I'd never call her. No woman
was worth it. From my closet I grabbed a fresh towel and wrapped
it around my waist. All I wanted to do was shower and go to bed.
I walked into the bathroom and turned the water on as hot as
I could bear it. Once under the soothing spray, I was in heaven.
It felt so good to wash away the blood, mud and memory of Laura.
Just as I finished applying shampoo to my hair, I heard it, a
wailing siren. The fire alarm. Some drunken ass hole had pulled
the fire alarm.
One of the floor monitors came into the bathroom. ``Everyone
out of here, there's a fire.'' With my hair still full of soap, I
grabbed my latest towel and threw it around my waist. The hall was
filled with smoke. Must be a real fire this time. I joined the
throng of my half-dressed dorm mates and made my way towards the
stairwell.
Outside in the cold spring evening everyone was complaining
about being roused from sleep. Whimps. If anyone had a reason to
complain, it was me.
There was a fire in one of the rooms on the seventh floor.
Flames leapt from a window right over the fire escape. Some jerk
had probably fallen asleep with a cigarette in his hand. I just
hoped no one was hurt.
Off to the right, I heard someone say, ``Isn't that Professor
Sheldon?'' Ha, Tony had gotten his due.
As I sat there gloating I heard someone else yell, ``Hey Rob,
isn't that your room that's on fire?''
``My room! What?...''
Go back to the main erotica page.