Blackmailing Benjamin

College parties bored me. I suppose they shouldn’t have, but they did. Why did I still go? I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, but a girl had to keep up appearances. I was only two years into my degree and had yet to be impressed by the general atmosphere, but I wanted just enough notoriety to not be completely invisible. And I kind of liked getting laid sometimes.

College boys were easy, so I didn’t exactly have to try that hard to bag one on a night like tonight. If I found the right balance of flirt versus snark, I could intrigue the smart ones. Or if one of the pretty, dumb ones caught my eye it was easy enough to play drunk and just hope he wasn’t too drunk to perform once I got him into bed. The level of skill I encountered was always a crapshoot, though. Too often I would end up faking enjoyment just to get it over with quicker. At least I’d gotten pretty adept at predicting whether a guy would be worthwhile or not.

The parties were a habit for me. I went to all of them, hoping for something different each time. That’s the definition of insanity, right? I must be insane.

Tonight was no different from all the others. I leaned against a wall inside a house with some combination of Greek letters emblazoned above the entrance. Fraternities amused me. They presented themselves like God’s gift to women, the most virile specimens of the race, perhaps. Yet the Greeks commonly screwed adolescent boys.

They were all adolescent boys as far as I could tell. One guy in a rugby shirt was busy chugging a beer while a girl clung to him and he groped her ass. He let out a belch and a loud whoop when he was done. She cheered him on.

Ugh.

I finished my own cheap beer and went looking for something a little stronger. I had a flask in my pocket that was woefully low of tequila. My plan was to refill it where I could still get it free, then go find something more interesting. One of the bars a few blocks away had fantastic music on the weekends that none of these imbeciles would deign to pay attention to. That was more my style.

I navigated the throng of partiers to find the liquor stash. Sweet Jesus they had Patron. I silently rejoiced and filled my hungry flask.

Before the last splash hit the lip of steel and I capped it again, I heard a deep male voice that sounded way too familiar.

“Jesus, you’re so hard. Take me upstairs and fuck me. Please!”

I stilled, setting the bottle back down as carefully as possible and sliding the flask back into my pocket.

Was that my stepbrother, Ben? It had sure sounded like it. But the words he’d said were entirely incongruous to the boy I’d grown up with. He was kind of a shithead, really, at least to me, but he could do no wrong in our parents’ eyes. Well…his mom and my dad, who had married a decade or so ago. Ben and I never quite hit it off. I was too standoffish, and he was too irritatingly pretty. He was the popular hot jock in high school. I hated that we shared so many classes together, but I guess he was smart enough for AP classes, too. Like he needed to be smart with all those fantastically good looks. The jerk had it all, unlike me.

But what I’d just heard was something else. That was definitely his voice asking someone…some hard someone…to fuck him. Dare I sneak over and see who?

Of course I dared.

I took a swig straight from the Patron bottle first, of course, then corked it and set it back down. Fortification.

Then I made to leave the room with heavy steps, but paused just outside the door and stepped quietly back to the window just outside the little alcove where I’d heard the voices. I pressed my back against the molding and the curtain, flask in hand, to listen more.

Another gruff voice said, “Jesus, Ben you’re on fire. I don’t want to fuck you in the middle of a party.”

“Andre, are you gonna make me beg?”

A deep chuckle resonated out of the alcove. Wow, Andre sounded hot. I kind of wanted to beg, too.

“No, baby. I want to, like you wouldn’t believe. I just want the moment to be right.” I bit my lip at the sound of that voice saying those things. This guy was a total sweetheart. So what the hell did he see in my stepbrother?

I heard more kissing and then a tiny grunt.

“Do you like that?” Ben said.

“Yeah, you’ve never done that before.”

“I can do it again.”

“Not here, alright? Let me take you home and I’ll screw your brains out, or let you do whatever you want to me, too. Just not here.”

“Okay, fine. But when we get back to your place, no holds barred, all right?”

No, no, no… When they got back to his place I’d miss all the fun. I’d already given up on getting laid, so I was looking for a different diversion now. Catching Ben like this had given me a genius of an idea. And torturing my stepbrother was right up my alley.