A spring breeze drifted through the college neighborhood as Michaela Birch moved with purpose down the leafy block. Through the twilight dimness, Taylor Swift ballad echoed as she sauntered past the cozy homes in a beeline to her special “friend.” 

Thinking of Todd, every inch of his six-foot- three frame–sweet and sculpted and tight–made her shiver. What was not honed by countless hours in the gym had been reduced to essential perfection by the relentless drills of his football coaches. 

Prepped in her favorite outfit, glossy pleather boots and makeup just so, Michaela felt drawn to Todd’s new place. It was almost as if what she needed from him had a cord pulling her from her waist to his.

She was twenty-one and she loved college. She loved the classes, loved learning every day just how immense the world was, and loved to discover more of the mad number of possibilities it held. And tonight, with nothing on her mind but open hours to play with her FWB, Michaela loved just how surprising, adult, and wicked it could get. 

She was studying art history with a minor in journalism. This week, she had black hair with streaks of burgundy red and navy blue, flaunting her alt-girl predilections. She felt cute with a little nose ring, an ironic school-girl skirt topped off with an Ani DiFranco t-shirt. She was the kind of girl it was easy to assume would hate football. The reality was she couldn’t care less for it. She was the kind of girl more at home at an experimental theater performance, a collection of feminist photography, or some up-and-coming singer/songwriter still under Spotify’s radar.

But every day at college stripped away more of the hipper-than-thou attitude she had nurtured with her friends in high school. So here she was, making her way to a house filled with three Bears.

Her Todd was Todd Hoffman, a twenty-one-year-old safety on the Bellamy University Bears. He was a pale vision capped with eyes an indigo shade of blue and a perfectly fetching tangle of  brown hair. He lived with two of his teammates and best friends: Jamal Slone, twenty, an impossibly cut African American a shade below average height and the team’s top running back, and Patrick Flynn, nineteen, a hulking blonde sporting a surfer’s tan, a hulking linebacker who made a name for himself in the Big 10 clearing the field for Jamal’s game-winning touchdowns. Pat’s biceps were as thick as Michaela’s thighs.

She had met Todd in her first week at Bellamy. Despite her knee-jerk indifference to all things sports, she could not help but flush at the sight of his shredded body as he threw the football around outside their dorm. Images of Michelangelo’s David, Leonardo’s Vitruvian Man, or Crazy Stupid Love-era Ryan Gosling danced in her head as she gazed at him running across the grass. Watching him, wanting him, she tried to pull out every art history precedent for appreciating the form of a strong man. 

But hidden in the midnight hour, while her roommate Brittney slept across the room, Michaela’s fingers slipped under the waistband of her panties. She cupped, massaged, and squeezed her mound with its delicious and growing hunger. She had to admit when she was watching Todd there was nothing academic about appreciating the aesthetic beauty of the human form. 

Michaela wanted him to fuck her. 

She wanted to feel the bounty of all his hard work, all his years of careful eating, the countless hours of physical striving that sculpted his muscle into oak hardness. She wanted all of it to rage across her soft curves as he devoured her, feasted on her, and filled her with all his greedy strength.

Even now, so long after she and Todd had begun their friends-with-benefits relationship, she still had a hard time thinking of herself with a tall, rock-hard, muscle-bound football player. She had even tried to quit him several times, but none of the other guys on campus could compare. The men of Bellamy struck her more like strutting boys on their way to becoming insufferable bores. 

After tonight, she would have to admit her idea of what went on with close-knit football players was very far off the mark. For as “shocking,” as experimenting, as much of a rebel as she fancied herself to be, after tonight, Michaela would wonder if Todd and his roommates were the real rule breakers.

With relief, she saw the little apartment building tucked away under a cluster of old oaks. The walk over had been a torture of anticipation, so she couldn’t pound loud enough on Todd’s door.

“Oh, I’m sorry, miss, the socialist blog collective moved out,” Todd said, relaxing on his porch as Michaela stepped up his walk. “All we have in here now are the finest young men Coach Johnson has to lead.”

“Very funny,” Michaela said. She loved to have Todd tease her. As much as she liked to see herself as a tough, competent, 21st-century woman, she loved the way he liked to circle her, poke her, and play around with the stereotypes of the circles they ran in. She liked how he tried to let the air out of her without ever slipping into cruelty or meaning a word of it. Feeling their opposing qualities pull them together and swing them around, reveling in unconventional attraction, had the special sweetness of a forbidden thrill.

And she loved to hurl it right back.

“No, I’m looking for the place with the two albino gorillas who are living with the fastest running back in the Midwest,” Michaela said. Taking the steps to the porch and letting herself in, she nodded to Jamal who was splayed on the trashed couch inside the living room. He lifted his chin in a familiar gesture. 

“Hi Jamal,” she said.

“Sup Micha,” Jamal said. Michaela smiled and looked back at Todd. 

“I’ve found the running back,” she said, squeezing Jamal’s bicep. She loved watching the spark dance in Todd’s eye whenever she pretended to come on to one of his roommates. Jabbing a finger at Todd, she added “And I’ve already found one of the gorillas. Where’s Patrick?”

Before Todd could answer, Patrick kicked open the screen door and emerged from the darkness outside with a cooler filled with ice and four kinds of beer.

“Hi Michaela,” Pat said.

“Hey Pat. Party tonight?”

“I wish,” Pat said, thumping the cooler to the kitchen floor.

Todd put a hand up and stage-whispered, “He and Terry broke up.”

“She dumped him,” Jamal said. 

“Oh, shit Pat. That sucks,” Michaela said. “What happened?”

“Fuck if I know,” Pat said, slumping beside Jamal. Even in her rush of sympathy, Michaela couldn’t help but notice the cornucopia of male flesh sitting side by side on the battered couch. “After Econ I texted asking what she was doing tonight and she said she didn’t want to see me anymore. Bam, like that.”

“Did she say why?” Michaela asked. Though he seemed friendly and open, she and Pat had exchanged few words. Now, here she was, hurt and angry for him.

Pat shook his head.

“She was fucking her tutor!” Jamal said, elbowing Pat. His huge form slumped further, Pat didn’t respond.

“She’s been hanging around with her European history tutor a lot,” Todd said. “Or, well, a tutor of European history. Turns out she wasn’t even taking that class this semester. And looks like she blocked him on Snap and Insta. She even unfriended him on Facebook. The hits, they keep coming.”

Michaela leaned against the kitchen counter, the last light of sunset lending a moody glow to the room, turning over the news in her mind. She looked at Pat, sullen and quiet. For a moment she saw the boy inside the man, and her heart warmed for him.

“That is fucking awful,” she said. “You should do something fun.”

The three guys, beers in their hands, looked up to her. Jamal looked puzzled, waving his beer at the video game on the big screen.

“We are,” he said.

“We’re cheering him up,” Todd said. “That’s… That’s why I invited you over.”

Michaela cast an arched eye at Todd. “Oh, really?”

“See, Jamal, Pat and I like to share. We share a Playstation. We share a TV and I thought …” Todd began. He smiled the smile of a man trying to keep a straight face. He cracked and burst out laughing. 

“Ah, damn. I can’t do it. I wanted to take some horrible stance like I was going to hand you off to Jam and Pat, but I can’t. Even I have some morals.”

“You are so fucking twisted,” Michaela said with a rueful smile. She took a beer, twisted the top then flicked the cap at Todd.

“Besides, what makes you think you all could handle me?” Michaela said. 

That got their attention. Jamal’s eyes widened, and Pat’s dour cast perked up. Todd was wordless.

“Ah,” Michaela said, affecting a mocking, dismissive tone. “Too bad. Looks like you guys shrink from an opportunity when push comes to shove.”

She was better at keeping a straight face than Todd, but finally broke out laughing. Todd and Pat joined in, but Jamal only smiled. 

Clicking his lips, Michaela heard him mutter, “You never know, boo.”

Michaela let it go and the evening resumed its course. But as the boys drank, as the sounds of the college neighborhood moving into a Friday evening fluttered around them, the fantasy of the three men before her flickered like a movie seen through fog. Wanting something you cannot have is a great way to be unhappy, Michaela thought. She put the fantasy, with its electric charge of excitement, out of her mind.

Jamal took to his phone, texting up a spell to entice some friendly women over. But as handsome and nice as he was, he was usually more than a little cocky, and with women, his more than a little was a lot. After a few hours, no one showed up. By the time they floated the idea of going to a bar downtown, they were all a bit toasted and Pat wasn’t feeling it anyway.

So they drank and joked and talked and stayed as the night outside went from cobalt to purple to black.

During a trip to get a drink of water in the kitchen, Todd found Michaela and wrapped his powerful arms around her. His hold was what she loved best about him–immensely strong, gentle, graceful and so elegantly controlled. It made it all the better when she could get him to lose control in bed and unleash on her with his full force. 

His lips found the skin under her ear and she groaned. Lacing her fingers into his, she leaned her head back on his shoulder, allowing him easier access to her throat. Todd’s kisses flicked down to the joint of her neck and shoulder and Michaela shivered from the sensation of so much power pressed to her soft skin.

“So, couldn’t handle you, huh?” Todd said. His voice was muffled against that tingling patch of skin just under her ear.

“Oh, I know you could,” Michaela said. She was feeling warm from the drinks, safe with Todd, and the relaxation of freedom as the evening stretched out before them. She pulled his hands up until they brushed the underside of her breasts through her T-shirt.

“Would you really do that?” Todd asked, nipping at her shoulder. His teeth sent a sharp little spark to the warmth building between her legs. 

“What?”

“Take on three guys at once?”

Michaela came out of her reverie for a moment, considering how to answer. She didn’t want to lie to Todd, but she also knew the danger of the question.

“Would you fuck three cheerleaders at once?”

Todd froze behind her. She was just beginning to wonder if even that flawless logic was too much for his ego when he closed his arms tighter around her. His biceps pressed her arms, and the shape of his hardening cock pressed her ass through her skirt.

“Again you mean?” Todd asked. After a moment, Michaela slapped his hands.

“Silly,” Michaela said.

“Besides, it’s not like it would be three emo crybabies,” Michaela said. “You know I’ve got a secret thing for football players.”

“That’s true,” he said, bringing his massive palm up to cup her left breast. Michaela’s breath drew in with a sharp gasp. She pushed her ass back to feel his member behind her, wiggling it so the shaft nestled between her cheeks through the folds of her skirt.

“Would you ever be able to look at me the same way again?” Michaela teased, reaching back to bring his lips to hers. “Would I be too slutty for an all-American football hero?”

Todd just laughed and kissed her with slow, sweeping brushes of his lips. His fingers closed over her breast, the skin of his hand perfectly covering her flesh even as her nipple stiffened. She could not get enough of his power when she was in this mood. As much as she loved the discussions and ideas and imaginations of the boys in her art and history classes, none of them were ever able to let themselves go and take her in bed. Some were so eager to show their respect for her it felt like they were trying to do it correctly rather than for pleasure. Others were so unassertive she often found herself guiding them through their sessions, telling them step by step what she wanted. It was tiring.

Todd was not like that. He was at ease and confident about his thirst for her, his love of sex, the thrill of lust, and he could understand something her arty boys never could grasp: He could fuck her like a brute, rut with her like an animal without disrespecting her. A football player more progressive than an intellectual artistic boy. Michaela loved the surprises of college.

“Too slutty? No, you’re perfect,” Todd said. “You’re exactly what I like. And who knows? Sometimes brothers who play together… play together.” 

The smile on Todd’s face told her he didn’t have the usual aversion men had when it came to sharing a woman with another man.

“Oh, really?” Michaela said. Despite the joking notion of taking Todd and Jamal and Pat at once, the idea sent a strong, dizzying flush down her body which coalesced into a pinching, building knot in her clit.

“Well, friends should share, right?” Todd said. 

“Are you serious?” Michaela asked, giving the question as much seriousness as she dared.

He considered for a moment. As he thought, Michaela couldn’t see the normal sour feelings of meanness and jealousy which arise in callous men. No such expression colored Todd’s face. She could see he was not about to remake her in his mind as some harlot because she dared to show some interest.

“I’m not sure,” he said, giving her an enigmatic grin. “I guess I can’t know how serious I am until I know how serious you are.” 

She could hear the teasing in his voice, the dare to find her limits. He wasn’t going to push, but would be there to see how far this went. He had always dropped lewd hints about his exploits, like the one about taking cheerleaders in a group, but she always laughed them off. Now, she wondered just how far he had explored. What had he done before her, without her?

Todd could see her next rejoinder forming behind her eyes. He silenced her with his lips pressed hers again. Michaela’s only response to his teasing hint was a low, guttural groan against his probing tongue.

Her breath was deepened with every stroke of his lips on hers. Images of moving to his bedroom began rising in her heating mind when a voice called from the front room.

“Hey Todd, beer me!” Pat called.

The kisses slowed and then stopped, even as Todd’s lips still pressed hers. He groaned. 

“Okay, just a sec,” Todd said, pulling back to look at Michaela. “Damn.”

“Soon,” Michaela said. Before he could act, Michaela darted to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and headed to the living room.

Pat and Jamal were now inside playing a video game in the dark of the living room. Pat sat in the middle of the tattered couch, while Jamal half sat, half laid on a recliner. Neither one lifted their eyes from the game as Pat took the beer.

“Thanks, Micha,” Pat said. Todd joined them, sitting beside Pat in the pale blue glow of the TV. 

Deciding to have some fun, Michaela sat reversed on Todd’s lap and kept her eyes to the screen. As Pat and Jamal played on, teamed up in the game as some kind of superheroes saving a city from alien invasion, Michaela ground her ass on Todd’s lap, feeling his cock stir and stiffen again.

Michaela couldn’t place why but watching Jamal and Pat play together as heroes instead of bloody soldiers trying to kill each other gave her a warm feeling. It was like she could see past their brash, macho exterior into something about them. Or maybe it was just a fun game. Or maybe she was in a fevered state feeling Todd’s cock against her ass becoming thick and full as her hips made circles on his lap.

As she felt him harden, Michaela couldn’t help but want to urge him on. Even through the fevered urge blooming between her legs, the fading glow of the beer in her system, she felt herself tiptoeing into an unknown field of lust. As Pat and Jamal played beside them, she pressed her ass down, so she could feel Todd’s cock snug between her cheeks, and slide her ass back towards him, the drag of her flesh and her skirt pulling up his stiff length.

Todd groaned. Michaela could hear the clicking and flicking sounds from the video game controllers falter for a moment, then resume their furious pace. Looking at Jamal, she could tell he was doing his best to not look at her. The thought of her performance on Todd galvanizing the attention of Jamal and Pat gave her an excitement that was richer, more intense, more dangerous than she had felt before. 

A sprinkle of sweat rose across her brow and Michaela wondered if she should rein it in. But the thought of Todd and his two teammates taking her body, all of their strength, their hunger, their hardness cascading over her in a mad rush of the lust centered only on her was so tempting.

With her ass still snug to Todd’s lap, she leaned back on him, resting her head on his shoulder again. His hands came to rest on her stomach as her T-shirt slid up to show her naked belly. Letting her mind wander and settle, she watched Jamal and Pat play on, the clicking of their nimble fingers on the controllers filling the silence. Every few moments, she could see Pat glance at her out of the corner of his eye. Jamal soon joined in, stealing furtive looks as she lay on the massive frame of their roommate.

Feeling them trying to not look at her, their concentration so focused on the TV as her presence dragged their attention to her supine body, brought a sensation of control and mastery. Seeing men this powerful, strong and virile trying to keep themselves from her was an intoxicating rush.

“So when are your ladies coming over Jamal?” Michaela asked to distract herself. She realized his phone had stopped humming every other moment. “I thought you said you were going to bring some hotties over to cheer Pat up.”

He clicked his lips again and waved his head to the side. “Fucked out. Ain’t coming.”

Jamal gave her a look as his fingers flew over his controller, as if he were trying to decode her. 

“Oh,” Michaela said as he kept his gaze on her. “That’s too bad.”

“Looks like we’re one for three,” Jamal said. “Todd’s the only one winning tonight.”

His eyes were direct and open, not teasing, not judging. Michaela found it difficult to break away his gaze. She also couldn’t shake the feeling he could see where the wheels in her mind were turning.

Behind her, she could feel Todd pull in his breath and exhale it in a warm gust running over the back of her neck and chest. She shivered from the delightful sensation, the contrast between the feathery brush of air and the hard slabs of muscle under her thighs, against her ass, pressing her back. Here she was, displaying this before his two roommates. She felt wonderfully naughty, and just a bit guilty. But not too guilty.

Michaela looked to Pat, who was becoming bolder in his glances. She found herself looking at him for as long as she ever had, his blue eyes watching, almost innocent as he looked at her perched on his teammate’s lap. 

Then the moment came. 

The moment where the dancing fantasy drifts from the abstract to something with a chance of happening.

Todd’s hands slid up from her stomach, flicking under her T-shirt to slide up her skin until his massive paws were cupping each breast through her bra. She could feel her T-shirt tighten and stretch with Todd’s massive forearms and hard hands moving inside. As his fingers closed on her nipples through her bra, Michaela couldn’t help to let her needful cry fill the room.

Pat’s eyes stayed on her, even as she could feel her own half close with lust. 

This is what it feels like to give into temptation, some faraway part of her mind realized. She did not even think to stop Todd as Pat watched. His eyes on her as Todd played with her unlocked something wild in her nerves. It had never felt so arousing to be touched as Pat’s eyes traced her body along with Todd’s hands.

Michaela looked over to see Jamal’s hands still, his controller hanging from his grip, motionless. There was a scalding heat rising inside her. None of the tender, soft feelings of love or sweetness, wonder or warmth were here. This was something pure, deep and intoxicating in its unalloyed lust.

“Better be careful,” she whispered to Todd. “You don’t want to start something you can’t stop.”

“This is only going as far as you want it to,” Todd said. He pulled down one of the cups of her bra and his fingers pinched her stiffness. Her groan filled every ear in the room. Michaela’s eyes slammed shut with the sensation. 

When she opened them, she saw Pat again. Now he was turned to her, making no show of pretending not to watch. His video game controller was on the couch beside him. 

“Are you ready?” she asked him despite herself. It was almost as if something else in her, some fearless, heedless part of herself had taken control of her body and voice. 

Pat nodded. Michaela smiled at his sweet eagerness in the face of the lust consuming her. She felt Todd’s mouth on the nape of her neck and fought to keep her eyes open even as her gaze moved to Jamal.

“Are you ready?” she asked him.

He gave her his best confident grin. “That’s one you gotta answer.”

Michaela fought to keep her voice steady as Todd did his best to fire the need inside her: lips on her neck, fingers squeezing her breasts, palms dragging across her nipples, his cock thick and hard under her.

“If we do this… we have to stop if I say,” she said.

Pat and Jamal nodded. Their assent was like another set of hands on her.

“Put your phones on the table,” she said. “No pictures.”

They nodded again. Jamal shifted in the chair to face her, sliding his phone to the table. Pat pointed distractedly towards his room.

“It’s on my charger,” he said in a hoarse whisper.