All Chapters of Behind Closed Doors: Nine Forbidden Nights: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

PetraShould I study or should I sleep? Or maybe I should masturbate.Isn’t this the eternal dilemma of every 19 year old nerdy, overweight college virgin? Or, no. Maybe it’s just the eternal dilemma of this 19 year old nerdy, overweight college virgin.Not by choice, mind you. The “virgin” part is not by choice but more due to circumstance. The “nerdy” part— and probably most of the“overweight” part— is from having to study so damn much. Which I really should be doing right now.I wrap the warm woolly blanket around me tighter, hating how cozy the damn thing is. Between its comforting weight and the easy give of the couch, I know I’m fighting a losing battle. In the battle between studying or sleeping, sleeping will win out. And I’m too tired to even get turned onenough to masturbate.The fact that I can see snow falling outside only makes me fall more in love with the plush cushions underneath me. I snuggle deeper into my self- made cocoon, adoring the way the fluffy drifts of sn

PetraFrom somewhere under my earthquaked blanket and couch cushions, my smart phone rings. Probably my mom. She always gets a little moreintense with her phone calling just before the holidays. Especially now that I no longer live at home.But I’m lucky. It’s not Mom. Grabbing my smart phone from its hiding place and turning it over, I see my friend Wren’s name plastered across thescreen, along with her picture. One she took at the beginning of the semester, with her sweater and gloves on.I answer, glad I’ve had a bit of time to collect myself from my masturbationsession. “Hey, Wren! What’s going on, girl? ’A sugary-sweet giggle. “I was calling to ask you the same thing, lady! What are you up to? Studying?” The way she asks this, it’s almost as if she knows what I was really up to.“A little,” I say, blushing. I still can’t believe I imagined my favorite actor fucking me from behind, and then unloading his cum on my ass cheeks. I mean, it’s not new that I masturbate. I just usua

Petra December 24thI’d forgotten how good it feels to have wind rushing through my hair, and snow whispering under my skis. But now that I’m whizzing down one of the last courses in the blue “intermediate” section (I decided to start off easy, since I’m a little rusty), I wonder why it took me so long to do something like this. To say “yes” to myself, to having a little fun.As I swish my hips to one side, and gracefully take a curve in thecourse, I imagine that the snow being spit up from the edge of my skis is all my worries. My inhibitions. All the “work” I’ve been convincing myself I have to do.Yes, even the promise to my mom is in the slicing snow underneath my gear.Kicking my hips out in the other direction, I take another corner.Again, my skis slice into the soft powder, sprinkling nearby rocks and trees. As I hear it land on bark and pine needles, I try to ignore the rising feeling of guilt. How Mom might be calling the smart phone I have on silent.But, since she seems

ReidFor the last 15 minutes, my brother and his friend have been manic about the time.I’ve just been on a dizzying car ride, and now I find myself beinghurried down a set of basement stairs. This was, of course, after beingpractically thrown out of the car by Callum, while my brother went to park out of sight.“Come on, come on,” urges my brother. Despite the fact that we’re all dressed a little too well for finding ourselves in a basement (full tuxedos,freshly combed and oiled hair, a few good watches and rings on), Dex ismoving like we’re about to miss our gateway to heaven. “It was hard enough to get an invitation, my dear brother. I’m not wasting all my fucking hardwork because you have lead feet.”“All right, all right!” I pick up my pace and my voice, but not toomuch. I’ve just noticed a man standing by an ornate set of doors. He isdressed more like a butler, but believe me: he has the bearing and the training equal to a Navy SEAL. I can smell it on him. Above the orna

Reid“I told you she’d do it.” Dex isn’t going to let me forget his awesome powers of prediction. He’s been rubbing it in for the last 5 to 10 minutes, ever since Petra and her friend first took the stage. There are more women upthere with her now. At least 8 to 10 more, not including her friend.While the other women are dressed in more evening wear attire (some of them even look like they’re wearing lingerie), Petra looks irresistible in her sweater and warm cotton pants. She’s fidgeting, too. Which only makes me want to pet my dick more. It seems to be threatening to spill out of mypants for her. “I told you she’dbe fucking willing to play.”“Now all you have to do is play along,” says Callum, sipping on some fancy, spiked eggnog.I barely pay attention to him or the other women. I’m still so fucking happy Petra showed up. I’m beside myself that she is up on stage. She’s the picture of demure strength. Her head is slightly down, but her posture isn’tshrinking or overly shy. It’