Baumgartner Generations: Henry (9 page)

And then Marcus
surprised them. “Of course, you’ll have help.”

Val walked
over, kneeling between the two chairs. Seeing her down there like that, her
knees parted, her breasts shoved up by the corset, gave Henry some hope. His
cock actually twitched. It didn’t do much more, but at least it was something.

“No way,”
someone behind Henry murmured, but it was already happening. Val had Cody’s
cock in one hand and Henry’s in the other. They were both soft. It wasn’t going
to be easy. Of course, she was surrounded by plenty of guys with hard cocks who
hadn’t come yet, who would be perfectly willing to take their places. That
bolstered Henry.

“You like
that?” Val’s hand was like velvet as she squeezed him, rubbing her thumb
expertly over the head of his cock, hitting all the sensitive spots. He let out
a whimper when she raked her fingernails lightly over his balls. Her other hand
was busy in Cody’s lap, doing the same thing to him.

“I know you
want my pussy.” She coaxed him, pulling on his cock like it was taffy, drawing
him out. “I saw you looking at me.”

She was
talking to both of them, turning her head back and forth, trying to pay equal
attention, but he could have sworn she was talking just to him.

“That fake
pussy doesn’t feel as good as mine, I bet.” Val let go of them both, sliding her
hands between her legs and getting her fingers wet. Then she rubbed her juices
over their cocks. Henry noticed how it made the head of his dick glisten.

“I want your
cock,” she murmured, pulling, tugging. “I want it so bad. I have to feel you
inside me.” Oh holy hell. He was starting to really feel something. Just the
pleading sound of her voice was getting him hard again. He glanced over at
Cody, but he was still just as soft as when she started. Henry figured he was
about halfway there.

The crowd of
guys noticed. They started chanting. “Hen-ry! Hen-ry! Hen-ry!”

“That’s it!”
Val’s hand squeezed him, stroked him. She was excited to see him respond, and
that made him even more aroused. She was still working on Cody, too, but it
just wasn’t happening, and Henry made a mental note to thank his genes or God
or something for his ability to get hard again so fast.

“I want to
come all over your hard dick, baby,” Val urged, her eyes bright, and Henry
moaned, beginning to thrust up into her hand. The whole crowd cheered and Val
smiled, turning away from Cody and focusing her attention all on Henry. He gaped
when she took her gum out and stuck it deliberately under his chair before
taking his cock into her mouth.

“Oh man. No
fair!” Henry recognized Dean’s voice and glanced up, seeing his roommate standing
in the circle, watching.

But he
didn’t have much more time to think about anything. Val sucked him until he was
completely hard again, and they didn’t even get the mattress down on the floor.
Instead, she climbed up into his lap, her breasts in his face, her pussy
rubbing against his dick. She was very wet.
She really came for me,
he
realized, and the thought made him crazy with lust. The crowd closed in on
them, whooping, hollering, practically slobbering, but he couldn’t concentrate
on anything but the girl in his lap.

“You’ve got
a gorgeous cock.” Val whispered this in his ear. “I want to come all over it.”

Henry
couldn’t think of anything he wanted more. He leaned back, letting her lead.
When she reached down to grab him, rolling yet another condom on, he took a
deep breath, feeling her flesh give as she rubbed him up and down her slit.
He’d won the sex toy, but he’d completely forgotten about everything but Val’s
body, her eyes, the soft feel of her ass in his hands as he guided her down
onto his cock.

And her
pussy.
Oh my god
. There was nothing better. She rode him nice and slow
at first and he could feel her breath, hear her soft moans and sighs. Then she
really got into it, hips rolling, tongue slipping into his ear, teeth biting at
his neck. He could barely hold onto her.

“Fuck me,”
she insisted, climbing off his lap and turning around to bend over a chair. He
was dazed, clearly too slow to respond, because hands moved him, nudged him out
of his seat, and then he was standing behind her, thrusting deep into her cunt.
“Oh yeah, baby, fuck me hard! Come on! Do it!”

He could
barely breathe. She looked back at him, eyes half-closed, and he felt her hand
between her legs, rubbing at her clit. Every time he thrust into her, his balls
touched her there, a rhythmic sway. Henry observed his cock sliding into her,
her hot pink center stretched open to take all of him, and he was lost. He
gripped her hips, thrusting deep, and heard her moan loudly.

“Make me
come!” she begged, panting, fucking him back. Oh god, this was it. He was going
to die. “Make me come, please, please, make me come!”

He couldn’t
hold back, not for a second. He growled and thrust and came and felt her whole
pussy clamping down on his cock like a vice.
Plastic pussies don’t do that,
he thought, grunting with pleasure as he emptied himself completely, sure that
there wasn’t an ounce of fluid left in his body to give.

When it was
over, when she turned and kissed him, long and soft and oh, so slow, that’s
when he thought he would wake up. He would find himself sitting upright in his
dorm room bed, sweaty and hot and hard as a rock from this crazy-ass dream and
then go back to sleep only to wake and tell Dean all about it in the morning.

But he
wasn’t asleep. And Dean was standing across from him, grinning with so many
teeth he resembled a shark. From the look on his roommate’s face, Henry had a sudden,
sinking feeling that maybe it would have been better if he had been dreaming
after all.

Chapter
Four

The
dragon-lady sat quietly sorting through papers on her desk, her door half-open.
Henry hesitated in the hallway, heart beating too fast for him to knock yet. It
had been racing since that afternoon, when she handed back his term paper with
another big “F” marked in red on the last page and the words,
“Come to my office
at 3:00 p.m. this afternoon.”

What a
letdown, after the weekend of partying at the fraternity, getting clapped on
the back over and over, his new fraternity brothers grinning knowingly. It
still made him blush to think about what had happened, but he was also rather
proud of it in a sick sort of way—especially since Dean seemed so perturbed by Henry’s
win. Or more to the point, Dean’s loss.

Henry might
have thought it was all a dream, but he had a box full of porn shoved under his
bed and a Fleshlight in his possession to prove it wasn’t. If he could have
stopped time back then, he would have. Going back to class on Monday and facing
the dragon-lady was the last thing he wanted to do.

She
knows.
He could see it on her face when she handed his paper back, the
slight purse to her lips, the brief flash in her eyes. She was calling his
bluff. He cursed himself for not finding someone he trusted, but he had been in
a hurry, the paper due, and there was just no time.

“Henry
Baumgartner.” Her voice made his stomach clench. “Come in, please.”

There was no
more putting it off. He stepped into her office, shutting the door behind him
and taking a seat when she asked him to. She still wasn’t really acknowledging
him; instead, she was writing with her red pen. The same red pen that had
failed him. That anyone held so much power over him made him nauseous.

“I’d like to
show you something.” Professor Franklin reached over and took a paper off a
stack to her left. She put it on the desk in front of him, leaning back in her
chair and crossing her legs. Her skirt was a soft, dark green, a respectable
length, but her legs were very long. He felt like a mouse trapped between her
paws.

“Go ahead,”
she urged.

He picked
the paper up, staring dumbly at it. It wasn’t that he couldn’t read at all. He
could pick out words. He could read sentences if he focused, guessing or
skipping over the words he couldn’t figure out, but it could literally take him
an hour to read a full page. And when faced with paragraph after paragraph, especially
in front of an audience, his brain completely froze. The words swam in front of
him and he stared up at her, mute.

“What do you
have to say for yourself?” Professor Franklin crossed her arms, the cream satin-like
material of her blouse stretching over her breasts. No one liked her—but every
guy had talked about fucking her. She was an older woman, probably his mother’s
age, but with her long dark hair and tall, curvy figure, she was the stuff
freshmen wet dreams were made of.

“Henry, do
you know what that is?” She sat up, rolling her chair closer to the desk,
looking at him quizzically.

He just
shrugged, hands clammy, heart galloping. He wanted to bolt, but he knew it
would only make things worse. Until he could figure out what she wanted from him,
it was better to stay quiet.

“You know, I
was going to keep this between us.” She tapped her fingernails on the desk’s
surface. They were long and painted red. “But if this is how you’re going to
act, I suppose I’ll be forced to get the dean of students involved.”

He looked
back down at the paper in his hand. There was no title page and the words made
no sense. Why was she showing him this? He felt slow, stupid, and he hated that
feeling, because he wasn’t either of those things. He didn’t know what was
wrong with him, why he couldn’t remember the same word from one sentence to the
next, but he could remember every state in the union and recite them
alphabetically. He could find them all on a map, by shape and location. But he
couldn’t read their names.

“I don’t…”
He cleared his throat, trying to buy himself some time.

“Okay, let’s
do it this way.” She pressed her lips together into a thin line, folding her
hands on the desk. “Read it.”

He glanced
down again. His hands were trembling. His eyes scanned the page, left to right,
but nothing made sense.

“Out loud,” she
insisted.

He gaped up
at her, his mouth dry, no words coming out, and finally he understood. This was
his paper. Not
his
paper, but the paper he had purchased online and
printed out and put his own name and cover page on. Of course, he hadn’t read
it. He couldn’t.

“Oh my god.”
Professor Franklin’s eyes widened. They were dark and round behind her reading
glasses, and even rounder in her surprise and realization. She reached out to
touch him, surprising them both, her hand soft, clutching his. “You really can’t…Henry,
can you read?”

“Leave me
alone!” He stood quickly, letting the paper fall, jerking himself away from her
touch. He took off down the hall, ignoring her calling after him. He turned the
corner and hit the door hard, opening it and gulping the cool autumn air into
his over-heated lungs.

He’d faced
down teachers before. He’d lied, manipulated, apologized and weaseled his way
out of a million punishments and reprimands. He was incredibly charming once he
got his bearings. He had managed to convince everyone, including his parents,
that he was just lazy and irresponsible sometimes. None of them had ever once
guessed his secret.

So how
does she know?

“Henry.”

He steeled
himself, not turning to face her. Why had she followed him? Why wouldn’t she
just call the dean of students, report him, have him removed from class? Or suspended.
Even expelled. He felt like passing out just at the thought.

“Hey.” Her
voice was soft, softer than he’d ever heard it. “Please.”

She touched
his arm through his jacket and he glanced down at her. She’d taken time to put
on a long, black wool coat. He tried to pull himself together. It was time to
deny everything. He opened his mouth to do just that but even spoken words
failed him when he caught sight of her face.

She was
crying.

What the
hell? Nothing could have surprised or disarmed him more.

“Henry, let
me help you.” Tears streamed down her face. She cried openly, unashamed,
squeezing his forearm, pleading with him. He was aghast. “Please. I can help.”

“I don’t
need your help,” he sneered. “Or your pity.”

“Oh, no,
Henry, you don’t understand—”

He turned
and ran for the second time that day, determined to escape this time. He heard
the click of her heels, her calls, but then they faded and he could only hear
the sound of his own heart beating, the ragged pull of his breath as he ran,
ran, ran, as far and as fast as he could.

*
* * *

“Dude,
you’re gonna get kicked out of school.” Dean sat on the bed across from him.
Henry just pulled the covers over his head. It was four in the afternoon and he
hadn’t gotten out of bed. He hadn’t done much all week except stay in bed. He’d
managed to ignore the phone—and his roommate. He’d even skipped hockey
practice. Twice. Coach was probably going to kick him off the team. But it
didn’t matter. Ultimately, he was going to get kicked off anyway.

“You’re not
sick.” Dean sighed. “What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

Normally,
Henry would have spilled his guts. Dean had a way of making him confess things
he wouldn’t tell anyone else. But he couldn’t tell him about this. Not this.

“Is it
Libby?” Dean asked.

Henry perked
up at the sound of her name. He’d considered calling her, taking her up on the
tutoring offer. But she couldn’t help him. No one could help him. He felt
broken. It was too late to fix him. “I talked to her. She still wants to go out
tonight.”

“With
you.”
He couldn’t let Dean forget how he had usurped Libby’s attention. Was today
Friday already? Had the whole week disappeared?

“Her
roommate is hot,” Dean reminded him. “And she’s on the rebound. That’s
practically a sure thing.”