Baumgartner Generations: Henry (5 page)

“Good game.”
Henry flipped through his iPod, hitting
play.

Libby
covered her mouth, stifling a giggle. The song was Carly Simon’s
“You’re So
Vain.”

“You guys
saw it, right?”

“Sure,”
Libby agreed, sliding her headphones down around her neck. “Great job.”

“Thanks.”
Dean flopped down on his bed. Henry saw his eyes narrow when he realized how close
the two of them were sitting on the bed. “So uh…you two look cozy.”

“We’ve just
been listening to music, waiting for you.” Libby took her headphones off,
handing them to Henry.

“Everything
go okay at the frat?” Henry turned his iPod off, tossing it aside.

“All set.”
Dean’s grin widened. “Pledge week is gonna be a blast.”

“For
everyone but the pledges,” Libby muttered, picking invisible fuzz off her
sweater.

“Well, I’m
glad you like the roommate.” Dean leaned back against the wall, real casual,
but Henry heard the edge in his voice. “It’s always good when everyone gets
along.”

“Speaking of
roommates.” Libby swung her legs off the edge of the bed. “What do you guys say
we double with mine? She’s really sweet, very pretty, and she just broke up
with her boyfriend.”

“Uh-oh.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “On the rebound?”

“I think she
just needs to go out and have some fun, you know?”

“There’s a
new horror flick playing at the Goodrich,” Henry offered. “
Let Me In.
A
vampire movie. A real one.”

“As long as they
don’t sparkle, I’m there,” Libby insisted, just when Henry thought his
estimation of the girl couldn’t have improved.

“Cool! So
what’s this girl’s name?” Dean asked. “My man Henry wants to know who he’s
going out with, am I right?”

“Um…” Libby
froze, her gaze shifting between the two of them. She felt as trapped as he
did, Henry realized. What were they supposed to do now? Libby’s mouth turned
down in resignation as she gave Dean what he wanted. “Elaine.”

“Oh that’s
right.” Dean leaned forward, fingers tented between his knees. “You room with
Elaine Litman, don’t you?” He looked at his roommate. “She’s hot, dude.
Seriously. She’s got great—” He stopped when Libby gave him a sharp look. “A
great personality,” he finished.

“Well,
listen, it’s late…” Libby stood stiffly, reaching over Henry for her coat and
he froze when the soft swell of her sweatered breast brushed his arm.

“You’re not
going?” Dean frowned, standing too.

“I’ve got to
get up early tomorrow.” Libby smiled a thank-you when Henry handed over her mittens,
scarf and hat. “Great game, Dean.”

“Thanks.” He
reached for his coat. “I’ll just walk you back to your dorm.”

“No, that’s
okay.” Libby pulled on her hat and mittens. “I have to stop by the library to
pick up something anyway. I’ll take the bus. I’ll be fine.”

“When do you
want to go to the movies?” Henry asked, still sitting on his bed, too aware of
the cooling space next to him where her warm body had been. He figured he might
as well take advantage of every chance he could get to see her, even if he was
playing second fiddle to his roommate.

She visibly
brightened, wrapping her scarf around her neck. “How about next Friday?”

“I’ll call
you.” Dean opened the door for her and Henry couldn’t help smiling when Libby
took the opportunity to pull her scarf up to cover her mouth when Dean leaned
in to try and kiss her goodbye.

*
* * *

“All
my clothes?” Henry frowned over at Dean, who was already nearly stripped down
to his skivvies.

There were
maybe thirty of the pledges left now at the end of Greek Week. Those were the
only ones who had managed to stick it out to the end, and while Henry was proud
he was one of them, he also knew it was mostly because Dean was his roommate.
He never would have made it through some of the stuff they’d been forced to do that
week without him. He certainly would never have received an invitation
otherwise.

“Trust me.”

How many
times had Dean said that to him this week? But still, he went along. It was
hard to say “no” to Dean Mosher, and not only was it difficult, but you got the
feeling it just wasn’t a good idea.

Henry pulled
his t-shirt off, shivering. The room was cold. Did they even have the heat on? The
other guys were stripping too. They’d gotten used to taking orders this week,
he supposed. They’d pretty much done everything that was asked of them, from
the simplest things, like learning the history and traditions of the
organization and then passing tests (oral exams, mostly, rousted out of bed at
two in the morning and answering questions while blindfolded and tied to
chairs) to the campus-wide scavenger hunt, where they had to find everything
from a fifth of Jack Daniels to used condoms.

It hadn’t
been as bad as Henry thought it would be, actually, but that probably had something
to do with being Dean’s roommate. He wasn’t one of the pledges who’d had to go
to class wearing pink hair bows or diapers. The scariest thing he’d done all
week, so far anyway, had been placing a mandatory hundred-dollar bet on an NFL
game they had watched together as a group. Thankfully, he’d picked the right
team and won. Dean hadn’t been so lucky.

“All right,
brothers.” The door behind them opened and Henry slipped his boxers quickly
off, wanting to be in compliance before the older members saw him.

The pledges
all took an involuntarily step back when the door swung open, whether out of
respect or fear, it was hard to tell. The older fraternity members were intimidating,
but as far as Henry knew, even in spite of Libby’s warnings, no one had been
hurt during Greek Week. They hadn’t even done any forced drinking games, which
Henry had fully expected—Dean said they weren’t allowed to anymore. Henry had remembered
Libby’s article and wondered if there was a connection between the two.

“Let’s go,
gentlemen!” Marcus was the head of the fraternity and another football
player—defensive tackle, built like the Titanic. Henry fell in line behind Dean
as they all filed out of the room naked, following the enormous back and
completely shaved head of their fearless leader. He had an earring in each ear,
and Dean secretly called him “Mr. Clean.”

The room
they had been in was small, but this one was even smaller. There were two rows
of chairs, facing one another, and a TV and a DVD player on a tall cart at the
end. Behind each chair was one of their older soon-to-be fraternity brothers. Henry
hesitated, seeing the setup over Dean’s shoulder, but there really wasn’t much
of a choice as they were directed into the room.

Dean was
pushed to the left and Henry to the right, so they ended up in chairs directly
across from one another. The folding chairs were plastic, not metal, but they
were still incredibly cold and Henry’s balls felt like they were shriveled
grapes. At least they were spaced far enough apart that he wasn’t brushing up
against the next to him.

“You’ve made
it through Hell Week,” Marcus announced.

“Almost,”
Henry heard the fraternity brother behind him murmur and then chuckle.

“After Hell
Week, you all deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

A murmur
went up among the pledges in agreement. Henry glanced over at Dean, eyebrow
raised. Were they kidding?

“The kind of
brotherhood you are about to enter can’t be explained. It can only be
experienced.” Marcus picked up the remote control and pointed it at the
television. Henry watched it come to life, but there was no picture on it yet,
just a blue screen. He couldn’t imagine what they were going to show them—some
video about the history of the frat? Why in the hell did they have to be naked
for that?

Marcus was
still talking, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard already this week. “You
should always be able to trust your frat brother. You should be able to do
anything for each other.”

“Or next to
each other.” The guy behind him again. Henry felt a hand on his bare shoulder.
What in the hell did they have planned? Henry’s sense of foreboding grew as the
guy next to him passed him a bowl and whispered, “Take one.” They were full of
condoms.

No fucking
way, he thought, taking one anyway and passing on the message and the bowl to
the pledge next to him. Dean had a condom in his hand and he was trying to
suppress a smile, but the other guys looked just as scared as Henry felt.
Trust
me.
That’s what Dean had said. But did Henry really trust his roommate?
He’d made a bee-line for the girl Henry liked, and had been close-mouthed all
week about the fraternity rituals, although admittedly, Henry had gotten off
pretty easy because of Dean. At least so far. Dean kept telling him he was a
pledge, too—which was true. But he also obviously had inside information he wasn’t
willing to share.

“You’re
gonna want to buckle up for safety, boys.” Marcus turned on the DVD and Henry
stared as two women appeared—two very naked, very sexy, very lesbian women.
They were crawling all over each other, kissing and touching. The blonde wasn’t
his type—too busty and fake for his tastes. But the redhead? Oh Jesus, she
looked like Libby with all that hair! Her breasts were perfect, a pert handful
of flesh, her nipples puffy and pink. And her pussy?

His dick was
getting hard. Henry covered his crotch, condom still in hand, trying to keep
his boy down, but the girl was so much like Libby, and when the blonde knelt
between the redhead’s legs, parting her pussy lips covered in curly red fuzz,
the camera zooming in for a close-up, it was a lost cause. Even though he was
sitting naked in the middle of a group of guys, his cock wouldn’t obey his
“down” command.

“We’re all going
to play a game.”

Henry looked
reluctantly away from the screen to see that most of his pledge brothers were
having the same problem with their dicks. Dean wasn’t even hiding his—and Henry
was surprised to find his cock was rather small in stature, maybe six
inches—but instead had his hand wrapped around it, stroking idly as he peered
up at the screen where the women were rubbing their tits together now and
moaning loudly.

Marcus
picked up a black bag off the floor, taking out a bottle of KY gel.
No way,
Henry thought again. Was this going to be some sort of circle jerk? He could
only hope—because he didn’t have any sexual inclination toward guys, and there
was no way he was going to consent to anything that involved one of his pledge
brothers touching his cock. Or doing anything else to him, for that matter.

“Here we go.”
Marcus handed a bottle of KY to the first two pledges and they stared across
the aisle at each other, eyes wide. He knew both of them, had hung out in
Dean’s room with Uri, a big, swarthy Russian guy with a thick accent, and Bel
was the skinny geek from the dorm room right next door to them. In spite of the
moaning and soft cries of pleasure coming from the television, Henry had found
that his cock had finally obeyed his “down” command. Everyone was too anxious
to have a hard-on now. Well, almost everyone. Dean was still hard, cock firmly in
hand.

“Fasten your
seatbelts.” Marcus’s teeth flashed brightly white. “Buckle up, buttercups.” He reached
back into the bag. Both guys sat frozen, a condom in one hand, KY in the other.
Henry didn’t understand until Marcus pulled two more objects out of the bag.
Flashlights? Huh? Were they going to have a masturbation contest in the dark?

“Just in
case you thought this was gonna be easy.” Marcus took the end off of the
flashlight, but where there should have been a light was…

“What the
hell?” The guy on Henry’s right—he couldn’t remember his name. Peter or Phil
or…?

“It’s a
Fleshlight,” the guy on Henry’s left said. Henry knew his name—Cody. They’d
been sitting next to each other during the game Henry and the rest of the
pledges had been forced to bet on. Unfortunately Cody, like Dean, had chosen
the other team.

“A what?”
Henry whispered, thinking he’d mispronounced the word flashlight, but what Marcus
was holding in his hand didn’t look like any flashlight he’d ever seen, and
then one of the older frat brothers answered the question for all of them
because he’d taken out the DVD of the two lesbian women and put in another,
more informative one.

“Holy fuck.”
That was Phil or Pete or…Pat. His name was Pat, Henry remembered as they all
stared at the screen. There was a nearly-nude brunette up there, reclining,
legs spread, and she holding the flashlight-looking thing in her hand. With her
other hand, she touched the pink flesh-like material, her fingers rubbing oil
into the surface, and Henry finally understood, as the scene changed and the
woman was on her knees in front of a very well-hung guy, licking his balls and
sliding the flashlight—er,
Fleshlight
—down onto his cock.

“Ohhhhh,”
the guy on-screen moaned. “It feels just like the real thing!”

Henry’s dick
jumped to life again as he watched the guy decide to compare his new toy with
the real thing, putting the brunette on the bed and the Fleshlight just above
her pussy. Now it was like he had two cunts to fuck, one real, one synthetic.
Henry stared, fascinated, watching the flesh part, wondering what it would feel
like, as the brunette fingered first her own pussy and then the fake one.

A collective
gasp went up when the guy stuck his cock into the brunette, beginning to fuck
her. Then he switched, sliding his dick into the sex toy, fucking it just as
hard. Back and forth it went. The whole room gave a sound of disappointment when
Marcus turned off the DVD.

“Get the
idea?”

They all got
it. There were thirty-two cocks straight up and at-attention in the room. And
those, Henry figured, were just the ones they could see. The older frat
brothers, standing behind their chairs, were sure to be hard, too. He was just
glad this wasn’t going to be some sort of homoerotic test. Not that there was
anything wrong with being gay. He just wasn’t, that’s all.