Happy Birthday to You

Submitted by Lucky Prescott

It was only the first week of senior year, but it was already becoming the semester of Steves—I’d slept with two of them in as many weeks.

That first week was always filled with parties at huge clubs and hot bars, and for the first time in four years, I didn’t have to worry about a fake ID getting me through the door. But there were those issues of having to wait in line and paying a cover charge. That is, until I found out that Steve #3 was a promoter for the parties.

I’d known him since freshman year, but had never called him before. Now I had him on speed dial, finding out where he’d be so that my friends and I could drop his name at the door and get in right away, heading right to the VIP area. Fine, I was using him. But at least this provided him with a following of hot girls.

On the third night, he said that it was his birthday, so as a little gift, I gave him a lap dance at our private table. Later, we made our way back to our dorm (he lived a few floors above me) and parted ways with a kiss at the elevator. Or so I thought. About 15 minutes later, I heard a knock at the door and found Steve #3 in pajama pants, a t-shirt, and a baseball cap—so necessary at three in the morning.

He walked straight to my room and laid on my bed, hands clasped behind his head, and while looking me up and down said, “Now for my real birthday present.” How did this Jaba the Hut lookalike end up in my room, in my bed? Did I have any other choice but to give him what he wanted? After all, he’d been helping me out all week. And it was his birthday. What the hell?

So, we had the sex, and the thing that I remember most is how confident he was, how he didn’t care that he was being somewhat creepy by inviting himself to my room, how he was just shamelessly doing his thing. I mean, it was almost appealing. It almost overshadowed the fact that this was some of the least enjoyable sex I’d ever had. Almost.