Nailed

The huge gathering room at Sigma Epsilon Xi fraternity house was packed with scores of college guys and girls lounging on plush furniture, standing in conversational groupings, and dancing to a pounding techno beat. A dozen students, most of them under the legal drinking age, stood in line to refill their plastic cups from the kegs on ice. On that Saturday night, spirits were high. Earlier that afternoon, Frankson University defeated its archrival, Blanding Junior College, 9-6 in a hard-hitting defensive struggle that featured no touchdowns. Kinda boring, but a win is a win. Longstanding school tradition: even if the football team sucks all season, if FU beats BJC, the coach is assured a contract extension. Now, coach Peters' job was secure.

The relentless techno beat was so loud, Erica's ears were ringing. She stood in line at the kegs and when she arrived, filled her cup for the fourth time. Right behind her, Jodie did the same. The two sorority sisters always attended campus social functions together. Safety in numbers. Since the fall semester began six weeks before, three sexual assaults had been reported in town: one in a campus dorm and two off-campus in predominately student apartment complexes. Every co-ed at FU was taking precautions to avoid falling victim.

The girls stepped to a far corner of the gathering room so they could talk without shouting. Standing side-by-side, their height difference was striking; at five-feet-eleven, Erica towered seven inches taller than Jodie.

"Any of these guys make yer panties wet?" Erica asked.

Jodie grinned. "All of 'em!"

"Well, not that one over there. He's a creep." She pointed across the room at the creep who, earlier, made a clumsy pass.

Across the room, Tony split his attention between playing billiards with Marcus, a Sigma brother, and watching Erica. Earlier, Tony introduced himself and spent a few minutes chatting her up. He believed he was making good progress but when he asked if she wanted to go upstairs and hook up, she rebuffed his drunken proposition. Slurring his words, he said, "You don't know what yer missing." "Ohhh, you are sooo wrong." With a toss of her head, Erica turned and walked away. Tony felt humiliated. Several girls standing nearby overheard Erica's rejection and the way she delivered it: with a sardonic sneer. She's nothin' but a snotty sorority bitch, he told himself. Prob'ly thinks I'm not good enough.

Tony sank the 8 ball, winning the game. He looked around the room, mentally undressing one girl after another and trying to guess which, if any, might be willing to jump into bed. He staggered over and struck up a conversation with a petite brunette who suddenly recalled she hadn't studied for her molecular biology midterm. She excused herself and wandered toward the far side of the room. He approached a cute strawberry blonde who spoke with him for a minute. But when her hunky boyfriend came over, Tony, sullen, walked away. Hitting on another girl ended in abject failure and she didn't mince words. "Get away from me you loser!" Scowling, she twirled on her toes and left in a huff.

Dejected, Tony plopped down on the sofa. He chugged his beer, his seventh, then tossed the empty cup toward the fireplace. It didn't make it that far; it fell on the hardwood floor. His bleary eyes drifted back to Erica, fast dancing among the crowd. There was something about her that made his mind spin and his groin ache.

Was it her long blonde hair? Her sky blue eyes? The perfect mounds beneath her snug sweater? The way she filled out those designer jeans? All of those pleased Tony's male sensibilities but there was something else about Erica he couldn't bring into focus, something undefined yet compelling. And he vowed, I'm gonna nail that chick if it's the last thing I ever do.

Erica's freshman year had been difficult; she barely made the GPA cutoff to advance to her sophomore year. Too much partying and not enough studying. During her sophomore year she buckled down and got better grades and finished second semester with a solid 3.4. Now a junior, she was on the dean's list and cruising toward a degree in elementary education. She still made time for partying, just not as much. Life lesson: moderation in all things.

Erica attended the frat party with no intention of hooking up. She just wanted to cut loose and have fun. And was she ever! For the longest time she danced and schmoozed with nice guys, none of whom made a pass. But, if she had taken one of them aside, placed her glossy lips at his ear and whispered, "Let's go upstairs," he might have leaped at the staircase and pulled a hamstring on the first riser. Such was Erica's allure: simmering sensuality and girl-next-door innocence wrapped up in one tantalizing package.

By nature, Jodie was more reserved than Erica. But not on this night; fast dancing among the crowd, her long brunette ponytail whipped around in time with the pounding techno beat.

Tony passed out drunk on the sofa. Before long, two girls became curious about the pronounced bulge in the front of his jeans. "Hey! Let's see what he's got," one of them suggested. The other girl snickered. "Okay!" Impulse control took a holiday. (Thanks alcohol!) They walked over and sat down on either side of him. Four fumbling hands unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his 501 blues. Pulling his jeans and plaid boxers down was difficult; at six-feet-one and 220 pounds, Tony weighed nearly twice as much as the two petite girls combined. Struggling, they shuffled down the denim and underwear until, at last, six fat flaccid inches flopped out and rolled to the side.

"Holy crap!" the girls blurted, almost in unison. Their outburst got the attention of other girls, including Jodie. She wandered toward the sofa, weaving amongst the rapidly growing crowd of female gawkers. When she caught sight of Tony's monster meat, her eyes widened and both hands shot upward to cover her mouth. Tony's penis was the biggest she had ever seen. Bar none. Granted, she hadn't seen very many, only three in fact. Two belonged to former boyfriends and the third to a flasher.

One Saturday afternoon near the end of her sophomore year, Jodie, texting and not paying attention to the environment, was strolling along the paved multi-use path beside the river. She heard someone cough, spurring her to look up from the screen. Just twenty feet ahead, a flasher was seated on a park bench beside the path. She ground to a halt. In the same instant, Jodie was repulsed and intrigued. She had a preconceived notion of flashers: despicable dirty old men wearing raincoats and reeking of rotgut. But not this guy: 20ish and good-looking -and no raincoat. Staring at her wearing an intense expression, he was sitting there with one leg of his gym shorts pulled up far enough to expose his erection which he was slowly stroking. He must be proud of it, Jodie thought. Why else would he be showing me? But he didn't have much to be proud of; his penis was smaller than her former boyfriends'. Lots smaller.

Jodie had to pass in order to return to campus, but wasn't going to proceed while he sat there. She stood her ground, alternately flicking her brown eyes toward the flasher and looking away. She wasn't aware of it but her behavior was precisely what he wanted: a girl to stick around and keep looking. Jodie wasn't frightened because that section of greenbelt was in the heart of downtown and other people were nearby, jogging and riding bicycles.

With loud groan, exaggerated, Jodie thought, the flasher ejaculated; two spurts shot high into the air and a third oozed and dribbled down over his fist. His mission accomplished, the flasher tucked away his messy penis, flicked semen off his fingers, then jumped on his bicycle and made his getaway. Jodie resumed walking and texted Erica: omg!!! i just got flashed! (-:

Jodie regained her composure. She looked toward the dance floor and shouted, "Erica! Get over here!" Erica hurried over. When she caught sight of Tony's anaconda, her eyebrows jumped and her jaw went slack. "Shit!" Erica too, was agog. Huge, giant, gargantuan, elephantine, humongous, jumbo . . . Her mental thesaurus pulled up every synonym until it exhausted all entries. And it was soft! What must it look like erect?

Marcus whipped out his phone and began shooting video. Tony's gonna love this, he thought. Tony liked watching himself with girls on video. Two weeks earlier he persuaded a girl to have sex on camera with Marcus behind the lens. The two of them carried on like porn superstars. She was a huge exhibitionist and really got off fucking on camera -got off repeatedly. Marcus loaded the video on Tony's laptop. He watched it over and over, especially the part where the girl, atop, riding his cock, had multiple orgasms.

More and more girl gawkers gathered around Tony. Marcus captured their astonished reactions upon first glimpse. Priceless. One girl stepped close then reached down and gripped Tony's porky shaft. She held it pointed straight up then looked at Marcus and asked, "You gettin' this?" "Yeah. You grab ahold too," he told another girl. She stepped over and took ahold. Their hands couldn't close around its girth. Other girls came and went, copping a feel of what had become the central attraction at the party. The techno music stopped and no one was at the laptop to double-click another file.

Although Tony was a creep, Erica couldn't resist joining in. She was given to impulsive behavior when intoxicated -like now. She wormed her way close and knelt on the floor at Tony's feet. Marcus repositioned himself to the side, a better video vantage point. She gripped Tony's shaft at the base and squeezed. Although he was unconscious, his hydraulics were functioning and his bulbous glans responded with swelling. Still gripping, Erica placed her appealing face directly beside his upright shaft and her sky blue eyes looked right into the lens. Smiling, she cooed, "Ooooooh! It's nice an' big an' tasty!" To demonstrate the last point, with the tip of her tongue she lightly licked his glans, just once, then backed away.

"Omigod!" Jodie shrieked. Erica stood up and faced her friend. "C'mon, let's get refills. I gotta wash the taste outta my mouth." The two of them walked away toward the kegs. Someone double-clicked more music and the party moved on. Guys and girls schmoozed and danced the night away. And all the while, Tony remained on the sofa, unconscious, with his pants down. A typical Saturday night scene at Sigma Epsilon Xi.

* * * *

Late morning, Tony awoke on the sofa. October sunlight beaming through curtains at the windows made him squint. As the cobwebs cleared he realized his pants were down. His ass didn't hurt so he figured nothing gross happened. He struggled to his feet, pulled up his jeans and, leaving the fly unbuttoned, walked unsteadily toward the showers.

Later, a knock came at his door. He opened it and found Marcus, grinning. "Check this out dude." Marcus turned his phone so Tony could see the video on the screen. "So what?" Tony said. "Some guy gettin' a hand job." "That's you man! Last night the chicks were all over your dick."

A wide smile spread across Tony's face. His good friend had captured some awesome footage: dozens of girls taking liberties with his penis: gripping, stroking, pinching. And the audio was pleasing too. Many of them commented on his astounding size. Then, at 4:37, Erica's face appeared onscreen. "Whoa! There's that chick!" Tony blurted. Marcus had a look. "That's Erica Lawrence," he said. "She's in my psych discussion." Erica Lawrence. Tony liked her name. It rolled off the tongue.

"Ooooooh! It's nice an' big an' tasty!" And Erica licked his glans, one time. "Holy fuck!" Tony blurted, louder this time. He rewound the video and tapped PLAY. "Ooooooh! It's nice an' big an' tasty!" Despite being terribly hung over, Tony's penis began fluffing and pressed against the thin cotton fabric of his boxers. He kept watching in hope that Erica did more, but no. Other girls came and went, fondling his penis, but after Erica vanished from the screen, she never returned.

"Put this on my laptop," Tony said. "I'm on it." From his room, Marcus retrieved the phone's USB cord and loaded the video on Tony's computer. He watched it time and again. With framegrab software he captured a still image: the instant Erica's tongue touched his glans. He loaded the photo and video on his phone so he could view them whenever he pleased. Such was his obsession with Erica.

A casual observer of the video might have seen nothing more than intoxicated college kids messing around at a frat party. But Tony, a senior pre-law major, saw something else. And his devious mind was scheming to exploit the situation to get what he wanted.

* * * *

A steady stream of students walked out through the double doors of Weatherby Hall. In groups of two, three, and more, they descended the seven limestone steps and fanned out across the plaza enroute to other points on campus. Off to one side, Tony stood beneath a tall sugar maple, its spreading branches ablaze with the golden glory of autumn. Erica passed through the doors wearing a loaded daypack on her back. After descending the steps, she flipped up the hood on her blue anorak. Tony started moving. He set a course across the plaza to intercept hers then stepped in front of her and stopped. She stopped. It took a few seconds before she realized it was the creep.

"Whatta you want?" Her tone was barely civil.

"I wanna show you something." He held out his phone so she could see the dick-licking still image. She hadn't been so intoxicated that she forgot about licking his penis at the party.

"And you're showing me this because . . .?"

"Because you need to see what sexual assault looks like."

"What're you talking about?"

"I was passed out. Couldn't consent. That makes it assault."

She arched an eyebrow. "You can't be serious."

"I am."

"Lemme see that again."

Tony held out the phone again. Erica thoroughly scrutinized the photo. "That doesn't prove anything. That could be anybody."

"You are sooo wrong." He had waited three days for this chance to fling her words back in her face. After closing the photo he opened the video, fast forwarded to 4:37, and held it out. Erica watched her face appear onscreen. "Ooooooh! It's nice an' big an' tasty!" And after she licked his penis, she vanished from view. Immediately thereafter, the camera panned and showed Tony's face.

Erica shook her head. "That still doesn't prove anything."

"Well, I think it does." He stopped the video and pocketed his phone before adding, "I'm willing to offer you a deal."

"A deal? What kinda deal?"

"I won't report you to the police if you let me fuck you."

Erica scowled. Her jaw dropped. The audacity! "HELL NO! GO FUCK YOURSELF!!!" Her outburst turned heads among students crisscrossing the plaza. Livid, Erica spun around and stormed away. God! What an asshole! She was striding so briskly, almost stomping, that one foot slipped on some damp leaves and she nearly took a tumble.

Tony sneered. All right. If that's how she's gonna be, I can play hardball.

By the time Erica arrived at her sorority house, Lambda Delta Chi, she had calmed down. Tony's attempted coercion was nothing she cared to share with her girlfriends; it was a non-event. After supper she studied for three hours before calling it a night. She used the bathroom one last time then stripped naked and crawled into bed. Velvety smooth satin kissing her bare skin always felt divine. Lying beneath the blankets, alone in the darkness, Tony's words came hurling back. "Well, I think it does."

He won't go to the police. Honestly! A guy wouldn't make a complaint like that. Laughable! Besides, they wouldn't believe him. But . . . what if he does go to the police and they do believe him? Will I get in trouble? The longer she pondered the subject, the more anxious she became. I wish Nathan was here. I really need him right now. Erica rolled onto her side and curled up in a fetal position. Hugging her pillow tightly against her bosom, she consoled herself with warm memories of her true love.

Erica and Nathan were high school sweethearts. Once their relationship became physical, their bond grew stronger with each heartbeat. After graduation, they spent a blissful summer making every moment count, for at summer's end they would be going their separate ways: Nathan, into the Army and Erica, to college.

On their final night together in bed, they clung to one another, sweaty and satisfied in the afterglow. During quiet pillow talk, they made a promise: come what may, no matter what the future might hold, they belonged to each other for the remainder of their days. The following morning, Nathan departed for boot camp, and a week later, Erica began her freshman year at Frankson.

During Erica's winter break between semesters, Nathan surprised her; he took leave and, in dress uniform, showed up at her house on Christmas Eve. Erica was overwhelmed. Her soldier boy was home! Tears fell like rain, both hers and her moms. Even her father's eyes became misty. For the next two weeks, Erica and Nathan spent the days visiting with family and friends and the nights lying in one anothers' arms, making sweet, sweet love. When his leave was over he reported for duty at his first permanent post, Fort Hood, Texas.

Toward the end of Erica's freshman year, Nathan's unit deployed to Afghanistan. Erica felt her world crumble. She worried constantly for his safety. For the duration of his deployment, their only contact was electronic: text, phone, facebook.

Fourteen months passed. Nathan served his tour of duty and rotated stateside. During a 30 day leave, the reunited couple put their relationship back on track but they struggled. Nathan was suffering with post-traumatic stress disorder and much of the time he withdrew, just wanted to be alone. Inner turmoil was eating him alive. Erica did her best to help him cope; in bed she lavished him with feminine charm but they were just going through the motions of having sex, they weren't making love. Erica loved Nathan with all her heart, but his experience in combat with the Taliban left him unable to love in return.

And so it came to pass they agreed to part without prejudice, a relationship hiatus to give Nathan the time, and space, he needed to sort through his difficulties. When his leave was over, he reported to Fort Hood and Erica returned to Frankson for her junior year.

Would the star-crossed lovers ever get back together? Ever make a life together? Would the promise be fulfilled? Only time would tell . . . only time.

* * * *

Sergeant Melanie Jordan of the Frankson University PD sat down at her desk and pulled the overnight police reports from her inbox. While sipping her morning coffee, black, she flipped through the stack of papers. There was the usual assortment of campus crime: a stolen bicycle, vandalism, disorderly conduct. "Why can't these college kids behave themselves?" she wondered aloud. She kept flipping until she came to a report that piqued her curiosity: a sexual assault case with a male complainant. And according to the responding officer's report, a video existed of the alleged crime.

During her 17 years on the force, 11 on the street and 6 as a detective, she had investigated many reports of sexual assault, only a handful of which had been perpetrated against men. And all of those cases had been male-on-male incidents. In her experience, never had a man brought a complaint against a woman. This case didn't pass the smell test. Her gut instinct told her the complainant, a Mr. Tony Powell, wasn't on the up-and-up. But she was duty-bound to investigate so she telephoned Mr. Powell and arranged to have him come down to the station for an interview.