The Humper Game Pt. 01 Ch. 01

I cringed. "At the risk of making you really mad, for real, this brings up a serious question. Were you acting, as you have been now, when you objected to taking part? When you made them hold you down to get your clothes off, and then for Peters?"

She looked daggers at me, but what she said was, "That's a fair question. I wasn't acting, not at all. But I can't prove it to you. If I'd had to do that scene in a play, knowing all the sex would be simulated, I would have played it just about like that." She raised her voice. "Now go on!" She pointed. I went on. As I left, I realized that that night, at any rate, there was no candy on the table.

The boys' and girls' wings were laid out exactly alike, so I knew where room 61 was. Each wing had two halls at an angle to each other, meeting in a vee just before the monitor's desk—kind of widening into almost a small lounge there—and then a couple of shorter halls off each of those. One of the shorter halls was unused for our year. The rooms were all singles. Each long hallway had a lavatory and a communal shower room near each end. The monitor's desk itself was really just a table with a couple of drawers, but whoever was on duty was positioned to see everyone who passed, and there were a couple of cameras on the walls as well.

Before our senior year, the wing for the opposite sex was completely off limits. Every couple of months there was a brief open house some Saturday afternoon, but it was very highly chaperoned and doors had to be left open, and was only an hour long. Once we were seniors, visitation was allowed during the study sessions before and after supper, and during the afternoon on weekends. Checking in and out with the monitor was always required. I had worked with a couple of girls on collaborative projects, in their rooms or mine, two study sessions with each, during the past two weeks.

Studying with Jenny that evening proved to be surprisingly productive. We were in a lot of the same classes, often with assignments made to the entire class. As we did some reading and made notes, we asked questions about things we didn't understand right off, or commented about things we thought were important but that might not be obvious. OK, the communication took some time, but we saw things differently enough that we often helped each other avoid wasted time and frustration. We each had stuff that had been individually assigned, but time was short enough that evening that we just postponed that.

When the ten-minute warning tone came, I quickly packed up my stuff and got up. Jenny got up too. She said, "Are you going running in the morning?"

"Yes. Outside, if it's nice."

"Could we run together?"

I thought for a moment. "It might work. Were you really trying to avoid capture, this afternoon?"

"You mean, could I have run faster? Some. I didn't really have any desire at all to stick a dildo up your ass, and given that it was you I wasn't unhappy at the prospect of getting screwed. It likely just would have meant someone I didn't want doing it Wednesday or Friday. Sometime, anyway. That still will happen, but my first time was you, and I'm glad."

I said, carefully, "I didn't have any real trouble keeping up with you. If you can run fast enough to give me a workout without killing yourself, and vice versa of course, that part is fine.

"But it's a little like a question I had to keep asking today: Am I going to be popping your cherry? There wasn't a wrong answer, as long as it was true, but I had to act differently depending on the answer. Or, I wanted to, anyway. Here, the question is, what are you looking for? Occasional sex in gym class, if we get paired again or if you forfeit? I'm all for it, but other boys will get to do it with you, and I'll be doing it with as many girls as I can manage. Studying together? We seem to work really well together. Studying biology? Great, if it doesn't mean homework gets neglected. Being boyfriend and girlfriend? Maybe OK. Not if it means any kind of exclusive claim, I think. Not any time very soon, anyway. But I don't know what you're asking, and we don't have time now to discuss it." The five-minute warning sounded about as I started saying that. "Do you still want to run together tomorrow, after I've said all that? I need to know answers, but not now."

"Meet at the door toward the field at five-thirty? OK to talk some about this as we run?"

"Sounds great to me. Now I need to run, or Ms. Miller will really work me over. Tell you more on that, later."

She grabbed me into a hug, gave me a quick peck on the lips, opened the door, and pushed me out, shutting it behind me. Great. She was off the hook, but I was cutting it close. I jogged down the hall, being careful to watch for doors opening or girls coming at me. I reached the monitor's desk and passed it and told Ms. Miller, "I'm out," not three seconds before the final tone sounded.

Ms. Miller moved up to me, face and body language again showing indignation. I wasn't surprised, though, that she spoke very low and said, "I still want to talk to you sometime. Are you going running in the morning? I can make it look like discipline."

This time I tried to mime a smart-alec attitude. "I am, but I already have a date to go with O'Malley. If no one's supposed to know we're talking, it may be a little difficult to find an opportunity."

"I'll come up with something." Her voice level rose. "Think you're cute, do you? Yes, you're legal, by two seconds. Now get yourself back to the boys' wing. Now!"

"Yes, ma'am. Or is it 'miss?'" I headed off. I knew my acting wasn't up to hers, but I hoped it was good enough. I wondered who could be watching and listening, but didn't look back to try to see. I hoped whoever it was couldn't read lips.

Revision: 3/29/2019