Chemical [se]X by

Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Erotica
Published: 2014-11-12T16:00:00+00:00

Friendly Neighborhood Drug Dealer

Ella Dawson

I was finally done. Three weeks of smelling like Cup O’ Noodles and dust, over. Three weeks of study groups, flipping through flash cards at lunch, and sleeping on Biology textbooks in the library, finto. With this last exam I completed another semester of college and it felt fucking great. Three semesters down, five more to go. After one last check that I’d written ‘Stephanie Mills’ on the top of my test, I put down my pencil and looked around the lecture hall at my fellow students, the majority still struggling to label a diagram of the human heart. There was a chance I had confused two of the valves, but as a non-major I only needed a B- on the exam to pass the course and complete my general education requirements. The aortic valve did not determine my future—at least not academically.

As I handed in my test booklet, I imagined the night of post-finals freedom waiting for me back at the dorm. Most of my friends had exams left to study for, meaning the alcohol-infused celebration I wanted most would have to wait. Tonight was all Netflix and Dominos takeout. At long last I could roll a joint, marathon through the first season of Broad City, and eat the tube of raw cookie dough sitting at the back of my mini-fridge. Sweet, sweet victory.

I discovered the flaw in my plan when I got back to my dorm room and found my Altoids tin of weed empty aside from a few rolling papers. I dimly recalled smoking up my hall-mates before finals prep began a few weeks ago. Everyone came back from Thanksgiving break needing to unwind from family time, and I’d been the generous benefactor. But rather than be disappointed by my lack of weed, my mind lit up with possibilities; this meant an excuse to see everyone’s favorite dealer.

Aaron lived in a single occupancy room upstairs. Usually I would text him to arrange a delivery direct to my suite, which prevented noticeable foot traffic from collecting around his door. But our RA was off duty tonight and it seemed stupid to text him when he was probably a flight of stairs away. He was spending more time in the dorm than normal this week to write a constitutional law paper, the details of which he filled me in on while we brushed our teeth side-by-side in the communal bathroom a few days ago.

Plus I had an ulterior motive for paying him a visit. In addition to offering fair prices and being absurdly nice, Aaron was gorgeous. It wasn’t his short brown hair or his broad shoulders, or even the whole bad boy drug dealer thing—agricultural investments aside, he was pretty much the boy-next-door. No, it was his mouth. Aaron had the most exquisite mouth I had ever seen: two flushed bee stung lips that arched and curled into a beautiful smile. I spent most of our brief exchanges trying not to stare as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth while calculating costs.

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