The Frat Romance Novel, Part VI: Les Foam-erables

Rob Fox12 years ago

On a warm August day a young boy by the name of Darren set his innocent feet onto campus for the first time. As his parents’ car pulled to the curb Darren burst from the vehicle and ran toward his new dormitory, ready to greet the future as quickly as possible. His future began with his new room. A room located in building 2, number 460, suite 1. Darren hurried up the stairs, he was too eager for the elevator. He reached his room while his parents were still down on the street below, unloading suitcases. With excitement Darren burst through the door to greet his new suitemates. The sight that met him was jarring. He was met by three of the oddest fellows he had ever laid eyes upon. The nearest one, a skinny boy who despite his thinness was wearing jeans that were somehow still too tight for him, welcomed Darren.

“Hello friend!” The skinny boy exclaimed. “I am Stefan! Stefan Javert! You must be Darren. I believe we are suitemates!”

The other two suitemates, being Asian, stared at Darren silently. Their awkwardness was unsettling. Darren was unsure how to respond to the most disappointing sight he had literally ever laid eyes upon. While Darren stood there, stunned by his hopelessly virgin roommates, his parents arrived at the door, carrying the first of his possessions.

“Sweetie, which room are you in?” Darren’s mother asked. “Where should I put your sheets?”

“Yeah, uh, fuck this place. I’m moving into the fraternity house. I don’t care if I’m the only pledge there and have to be everyone’s simultaneous bitch butler. It’s better than this.” Darren declared.

“Why? What’s wrong?” His mother asked.

“Look at these boners! I have a better chance of having an orgy at the Newman Center Bible study than I do of bringing a chick back to this awkward-fest.”

“Honey he’s right,” Darren’s father agreed. “That Stefan boy looks like a late night stabbing waiting to happen. I knew a kid in college that had that exact face. He used to sniff used condoms and say it was ‘for science.’ Darren can’t stay here.”

Darren’s mother began to protest but Darren’s father shushed her. Meanwhile Stefan seethed with rage. His eyes lit with an intense anger that ironically gave him the look of an actual serial stabber.

The family quickly retreated from the room. Stefan angrily followed them, but he was kept at a distance by Darren’s father, who was using a lacrosse stick to keep him back.

“I will find you again!” Stefan shouted. “I am pre-law, soon to be a member of the campus police JUNIOR BRIGADE. You will not forget me! Nor I you! You have escaped building 2, room 460, suite 1 for now! But I will find you and you will pay for leaving me so disgraced!”

“Suck a gallon of dicks, Javert,” Darren shouted.

Darren and his father laughed, for a gallon was an inaccurate but humorous unit of measurement to use in describing an amount of penii that should or should not be fellated.

A few hours later they moved Darren into the fraternity house. Although Darren was the only pledge in house that semester and thus suffered through the worst pledgeship in the fraternity’s post-Civil War history, he still deemed it better than the alternative. That alternative of course was living with creepy dorm kids.

When Sara sat down and looked into the mirror, preparing herself for the Delta foam party, her eyes told her she was pretty. Her heart, however, lied, as hearts often do. Because she listened to her heart, and not the truth that her eyes were telling, Sara began to cry.

“Sara, why do you cry again?” Annabelle asked.

“It is Stefan, he’s left me empty,” Sara admitted.

Annabelle assured Sara that Stefan was but a hiccup in the ultimate breath of life, but Sara was still unsure. Her mind lingered on Stefan, the distinguished man who was so bound to the law that he was forced to choose between his two loves. Ultimately he broke Sara’s heart. The heartbreak was recent, and it still stung Sara.

“Put it in your past,” Annabelle pleaded. “Do we not attend the Delta foam party tonight to live in the present? To have stories for the future? Are you not excited?”

“Stefan was my everything,” Sara sighed.

“He is gone now, and it is his loss,” Annabelle reassured her. “You will find better men tonight.”

“You’re right,” Sara agreed. “Tonight I want to be lost in the foam. They say when you enter the foam you lose your cares and your troubles. I am eager to lose all of my former self in there.”

“Perhaps, but you may well lose your dignity also,” Annabelle reminded Sara. “And that should be something you should strive to leave intact.”

“Perhaps I wish to leave that behind as well,” Sara said with a wry smile.

“You JEST!” Annabelle exclaimed. “Or so I presume, but I wonder, do you?”

“Stefan was my life. That life is over. If today is the first day of my new beginning then I wish to leave everything behind. Troubles, cares, and especially dignity. May it ALL be washed away in the foam. Besides, they say it does not matter what happens within the foam, for you always leave the foam clean.”

“That is a dangerous assumption,” Annabelle warned. “Chlamydia survives the detergent. It always does.”

Three hours later, once their hair and makeup were finally done, Sara and Annabelle put on norts and a tank top and departed for the foam party. They arrived at the Delta fraternity house and prepared to show their fake ID’s to the security guards placed out front.

Sara, already drunk on Franzia and cheap vodka shots, momentarily forgot the information on her fake ID. Thankfully for Sara the security guard ignored her slurred excuses and let her ample breasts speak for her. The guard had decided that since his badge demanded the same respect as the nametag of a Quiznos manager that cleavage might as well be clemency for the “illegal” drinkers.

Sara and Annabelle were given wristbands and escorted inside. As soon as Sara entered the fraternity house she was drawn to the foam room. However Annabelle pulled her away, instead guiding Sara to the bar.

“Drinks first,” Annabelle explained.

Sara was eager to enter the foam, but thought it wise to imbibe a bit more courage before wandering into the white, lustful madness.

Drink more. Hold nothing back. Open yourself to new possibilities. That includes your vagina. ESPECIALLY your vagina. Sara thought to herself. Open your vagina to new penises…if that wasn’t clear…to myself. Wow I’m drunk. Just… Just have sex tonight, is what I’m trying to say…again, to myself.

Sara was a bit drunk. But although Sara’s thoughts were odd, they were also clear. She and Annabelle approached the bar. Annabelle ordered six screwdrivers, four of which the girls quickly downed. The other two they kept to sip. As Annabelle and Sara chatted about the usual party gossip Sara overhead a deep, masculine voice. The voice she heard was, in Sara’s mind, the most sexually charged baritone that had ever barged into her ears. She focused more closely on the deep sound waves that were making love to her ears so that she could hear the words that those vibrations were gently, but forcefully, transporting.

“No, no, NO. I could absolutely fight off a prison rapist,” Darren shouted.

“No fucking way, Sandusky is a former D-lineman and he’s gonna get railed,” his friend disagreed.

“No, NO! Listen dipshit. He’s also sixty and a molester. If I go to jail it will be for at worst, AT WORST, killing a hooker Kennedy style.”

“Drowning in a…”

“Yeah, drowning her in a submerged car that I accidentally drove into a river,” Darren said. “And if I couldn’t beat the shit out of the guy then all I would need to do is promise that in exchange for his dick coming nowhere near my butthole, which has a strict exit only policy, is say that my dad would represent him pro bono.”

“What if he’s like a murderer or something? You’d ask your dad to represent him?”

“If I’m gonna have to get a serial killer off, I’d rather it be his charges than his rocks.”

“Dude… you’re so awesome… you’d even be the shit in prison,” Darren’s friend declared.

“What can I say? I thrive in social environments,” Darren agreed.

Sara was overcome with attraction. She believed that a man who was capable of taming even the most feared prison rapists could for surely soften her petrified heart and moisten her dry but eager loins. Sara gazed at Darren longingly, praying that he would look over to her. Her prayers, momentarily, were answered. Darren’s head cocked slightly in her direction as someone behind Sara shouted “LOOK AT THOSE FUCKIN’ NIPS!”

As they moved to the sight of the exposed nipples Darren’s eyes met Sara’s, but he quickly moved on to his original target. Once Darren realized that the nipples were not worth a prolonged gaze, for they were neither gloriously perfect nor hilariously oversized, like dinner plates with Lunchables pepperonis placed in the middle, he looked back to Sara, the attractive girl he had seen before. Sara, meanwhile, was still entranced with Darren’s statuesque features.

Sara was normally a lady bound to formality. On an average night she would have waited for Darren to slide behind her on the dance floor in a gentlemanly manner, where he would then subtly demonstrate that she was worthy of both an erection and the polite but ultimately pointless gesture of concealing of said erection via the belt tuck.

It’s nice to know it’s there. She thought, But nicer to know that he doesn’t want to poke me with it… yet.

However, on this night, Sara felt that she should be the aggressor. She moved towards Darren but a sudden crowd movement to the bar prevented her from reaching him.

While Sara was caught in the crowd, Darren was on the move. His friends had lured him away with promises of cocaine and other stuff, but mostly cocaine.

When Darren left, Annabelle grabbed Sara’s arm and dragged her over to a group of seniors.

“Sara, this is Michael,” Annabelle said. “He’s on IFC.”

“Yes, I’m the Vice President of Public Relations for the Inter Fraternity Council,” Michael said smugly.

Sara did not respond.

“This position will look excellent on a résumé!” Exclaimed Michael with an excited yet clueless naiveté that only an IFC member could possess.

Sara, who at nineteen was as familiar with a résumé as she was with the hieroglyphs on the Rosetta Stone, was unimpressed. Her thoughts still lay with Darren, who was upstairs doing more cocaine than a Colombian hooker who not only got paid for her sexual favors in drugs, but also in fact paid for her groceries in the drugs that people gave her for sex.

Sara was not interested in Michael, and while he regaled Annabelle with tales of IFC legislation, Sara wandered into the foam, finally ready to fulfill her night.

When she walked into the foam room Sara was struck with awe. The wall of suds, combined with the amount of shamelessness taking place in plain sight, was breathtaking. Sara was not afraid though, rather she was resolved, resolved to live up to the debauchery she was witnessing. If a fat girl had the courage to give a foamy hand job to a grown man wearing a children’s medium Space Jam jersey in front of everyone, then surely Sara could find it within herself to cultivate love behind a curtain of suds.

Sara wandered into the foam, ready to find what she was looking for, whatever that may be. As she walked deeper into the whiteness the music faded away, and voices in the bubbly mist began to echo around her.

“God you’re hot baby,” a man’s voice whispered.

“So are you. Fuck me right now,” a woman replied. “But wait, you’re clean, right?”

“Yeah I’m clean, bitch. I’m standing in a pile of fucking soap bubbles.”

“That’s not what I mean, asshole.”

“Oh. OH. Yeah I promise. I swear I don’t have chlamydia.”

“What!?!”

“I mean I swear I’m clean.”

“Oh…okay!”

As Sara wandered deeper into the foam all other voices faded away. Whiteness surrounded her and she became lost in it. The pounding 80’s music and the moans of a moderately satisfied lover faded away. Sara closed her eyes. Her memories flashed before her. Stefan, her ex-boyfriend came to the forefront. Memories of his love and rage reverberated through Sara’s mind.

“I love you…”

“I didn’t last ‘THAT LONG’ because you’re hot. It’s a COMPLIMENT! Take it!”

“You drank a beer in your dorm!?!? HOW DARE YOU NOT RESPECT THE LAW OF THE CAMPUS POLICE!”

“I AM BOUND TO THE LAW!”

“I DON’T CARE IF YOU JUST TOOK MY VIRGINTY! I HAVE TO WRITE YOU UP FOR THIS WINE COOLER! And NO! It doesn’t matter that you drank it out of my weird pubic cavity. A violation is a violation.”

“I must end this. My true love is justice. Our paths will no longer cross, unless you break an undergrad law on campus property, in which case they will cross, because I’ll have to write you a ticket.”

Sara shed a tear remembering her turbulent relationship with Stefan. The emotions so overcame her that she turned and started to leave the foam. As she was walking towards the exit she bumped into a large, muscular body.

“What the tits! Whose tits weres those!?! I felt titties!”

Sara recognized the voice immediately. It was the man she had spotted earlier. It was Darren.

“Those breasts were mine, sir.”

“Hold…hold on… lemme… okay I can’t see you.”

Darren fought through the foam to find the breasts that he had momentarily cupped. He had made a full circle around Sara before he finally found the chest he was looking for.

“I was hoping to find you,” Sara admitted. “Our eyes met for a moment, you may not remember,” she explained.

“Sweetie, we could’ve talked for an hour n’ I’d have no idea who the fuck you were. I’m so blackout right now that unless you’re George Washington, Hitler, my dad, LeBron James, or Kate Upton there’s a zero, no percent chance I’d recognize you,” Darren replied. “But let’s do this.”

Darren brashly embraced Sara, and she welcomed it. Sara kissed Darren deeply, and he returned her passion tenfold. Sara dug into Darren’s trousers; she found his member and stroked it gently. Darren groaned like a man with diarrhea, not because he had diarrhea, but because he only had one sort of groan. Thankfully Sara had not previously heard Darren having diarrhea, so she did not know that this was also his diarrhea groan…but it WAS also his diarrhea groan. For again, Darren only had one sort of groan.

Although it started as a simple fondling Sara quickly invited Darren to move the affair along and it soon turned to full on lovemaking. Darren slid himself up one of the legs of the norts Sara was wearing. Once inside of her, and well concealed within the foam, Darren began his mighty thrusts. At first his lovemaking was slow, although powerful. But following his instincts, and at the behest of Sara, Darren increased his pace and force. Sara moaned with satisfaction, her voice echoing through the clouds of foam like the shrieks of a banshee on a foggy moor.

Their love, however, was interrupted by one of the most familiar of cock blocks.

“COPS!… … … COPS!”

A fraternity brother burst into Sara and Darren’s foam clearing.

“Darren, cops are here, you gotta talk to them,” the brother said.

“Why the fuck do I gotta do that?” Darren asked.

“Um…because… we elected you risk management chair. Remember?”

“So…so it’s my fault that you guys are sucking dick at electing people?” Darren asked.

“I mean… yeah, I guess,” the brother responded.

“Well fuck!” Darren declared. “Hold on baby, I gotta deal with some assholes real quick. Stay wet.”

“As if I had a choice in the matter,” Sara replied with a smile.

Darren exited the foam and walked to the front door of the fraternity house. A cadre of uniformed college students met him at the door. At the front of the group was an arrogant, formal looking man. He stepped forward and said hello to Darren.

“Sir I am told I need to speak with you. My name is Stefan Javert, inspector with the campus police, junior brigade,” the man said.

“Okay?” Darren replied.

“We have reason to believe that there is underage drinking here.”

“Oh, crazy,” Darren chuckled. “I have reason to believe that you’re a twat.”

“HOW DARE YOU!” Shouted Stefan. “Do you not respect the law sir?”

“Sort of.”

Stefan stared boldly into Darren’s eyes. Darren did not meet Stefan’s gaze, for he was seeing double and fighting the spins. After a moment Stefan’s eyes widened. Suddenly he recognized Darren as the young man who had escaped building 2, room 460, suite 1.

“You!” Stefan exclaimed. “I have waited for this moment for years…”

But before Stefan could continue Sara appeared behind Darren, unable to be away from him for a second longer.

“And you!” Stefan shouted. “I must apprehend you both, immediately!”

“Stefan!” Sara shouted, her eyes filling with tears.

“Wait how do you know this fuckin’ taint?” Darren asked.

“He is my former lover. But he left me. He claimed his only love was justice,” Sara sadly explained.

“Yeah well justice is blind so you’re fuckin’ a retarded chick now,” Darren laughed at Stefan. “I’m gonna go fuck the love of your life, deal with it.”

Enraged by Darren’s brashness Stefan grabbed a nearby bottle and threw it at Darren who instinctually ducked before delivering a punishing blow to Stefan’s face. Stefan fell to the ground with a whimper.

“I will arrest you!” Stefan shrieked.

“You can’t arrest me. You’re a fuckin’ rent-a-cop intern,” Darren argued.

A security guard who was standing at the front door chimed in.

“Yeah, take it from a guy who wears a badge that holds absolutely no authority, I know a meaningless position of power when I see one, and you are it buddy. Now get the fuck off their property,” the security ordered.

Stefan pulled himself up from the ground, feeling the ultimate disgrace. He was at a loss for words. The fraternity members in front of him stood and laughed at Stefan, and worse yet, at Stefan’s badge. Stefan retreated in shame, the laughter following him as a haunting reminder of his failure to uphold the law.

“Go fuck your own face!” Darren shouted after him.

“Dear God take me now! I MUST have you!” Sara exclaimed to Darren.

Stefan staggered through campus until he came to a high wall. He climbed to the top and looked out over the school grounds. Feeling that he could no longer serve the school’s laws Stefan knew what he must do. He took a deep breath, raised his head as high as he could, and thrust it downward toward his crotch. The motion caused him to lose his balance and Stefan fell from the wall, summersaulting towards the ground. The impact with the earth below forced Stefan’s head violently into his crotch, breaking his neck in the process. Stefan’s body laid there, lifeless, face on dick. He had died literally fucking his own face, and so was the end of Stefan Javert.

Meanwhile Darren fucked his ex-girlfriend Sara, jizzed on her chest, left to go drink more, and then passed out in the bed of a pickup truck.

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