The year was 2012 and I was young, dumb, and horny. I was visiting Colorado from Los Angeles to be my best guy friend, Henry’s*, date to his Greek formal...and I had a crush on his roommate, Jacob*, the second I laid eyes on him. As soon as he opened the door to his fraternity house, his black shaggy hair perfectly framing his bright blue eyes and megawatt smile, it was clear to pretty much everyone that Jacob and I had instant chemistry riddled with witty banter, playful jabs, and sexual innuendo. Nothing could get between our sexual tension…except maaaybe his girlfriend, Nadia.*
We all rode up together from Boulder to Vail—me, Jacob, and his girlfriend nestled tightly in the backseat. When we stopped at a gas station for a bathroom break about an hour into our trip, Henry pulled Jacob aside. “Dude, you’ve only been talking to Serena this whole trip,” I heard him whisper when he thought they were out of earshot. “Did you notice you were totally ignoring Nadia?”
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It’s potentially worth noting that, at the time, Henry and I were just friends. In retrospect, 10-plus years later, I can clearly see that he was probably-definitely in love with me—I just had no idea. Or maybe I did and just wasn’t emotionally equipped to be vulnerable and intimate with another human being yet. In any event, Henry was deeply entrenched in my friend zone but clearly had the feels for me, so there may have been a twinge of jealousy about the clear connection brewing between me and Jacob.
When we got back into the car, Jacob seemed to have taken the advice and committed to engaging with Nadia more. Meanwhile, we all passed a joint around the backseat for the remainder of the ride up to Vail, bopping to our favorite EDM playlists in the most 2012 of fashions.
Once we arrived at the hotel and everyone got situated in their rooms, Henry and I got dressed up for dinner with a small group of the frat brothers—including, of course, Jacob and his girlfriend, who sat across from us the whole night. I couldn’t help but notice that Jacob would hold my gaze just a little too long between laughing at someone’s jokes at the table that night, and I’ll admit I felt a teensy bit relieved that I maybe wasn’t just making things up in my head—that he probably-definitely felt something, too.
Now, dear reader, I’ll have you know, I’ve never been involved in an affair before or since this night. I’m not necessarily proud of what went down. But I still can’t help but feel turned on by the memory of being a bad girl for once in my life. In early-aughts suburbia, I grew up following the rules—cheerleading at the football games each Friday, going to church every Sunday, and always saying and doing the right thing. But something snapped in me that night—and tell me, isn’t that what your early 20s are all about? Making mistakes? Learning from them? Making them again, just to make sure you learned right the first time? This man was my mistake to be made and his name was Jacob.
After dinner, we headed back to the hotel to party. All sixty of us changed from our tuxedos and gowns into swimsuits, ready and rowdy for bikini-clad debauchery. Anyone who attended a Greek life formal in the early 2010s knows the hormones were blasting on all cylinders everywhere you turned. People were making out on every side of the hot tub, passing joints, laughing, and chugging beers.
A few vodka shots in, I caught Jacob making unmistakable eyes at me from across the hot tub, once again holding that ice-blue gaze just a little too long. While his girlfriend wasn’t looking, he lightly nodded his head in the direction of the hotel. Smiling that blinding smile, his eyes twinkled with mischievous delight as he hopped out of the tub, entered the hotel door, and turned the corner towards the fitness room. A minute or so later, as if we’d rehearsed it, I blindly followed suit.
As soon as I entered the four-star gym, Jacob grabbed my arm and pushed me up against the wall of the empty fitness room. He gripped his hand along my chin, cradling my ear between his fingers, and pulled me in for a deep, illicit kiss I could’ve sworn was the very best of my life. His big, beautiful lips caressed mine as his tongue made its way down my throat and he slipped his other hand down my wet bathing suit to play with my pussy. Anyone, including this man’s girlfriend, could walk into the gym at any moment and I couldn’t have cared less.
I sat down on the arm press machine and pulled his pelvis towards me. Sliding down his swim trunks, I grabbed his cock in my greedy hands—his throbbing nine inches a perfect fit between my fingers as I licked his shaft. I could hear his soft moans from above as I pleased him with my mouth, his cock tasting like salt and chlorine and daring me to take every last drop.
But before I could, Jacob pulled my head up and grabbed my hand, leading me towards a bench press and telling me to lie down. He pulled my bathing suit off, leaving my bare ass and pussy pressed against the cold seat. The cool air of the room tickled my exposed clit as he dove face-first in between my legs. One hand inside me, pulsing up and down as his tongue massaged my clit, he jacked himself off with his other hand while I took it all in, insanely aroused and impressed all at once.
His tongue rode up and down on my clit, ravaging my pussy, oscillating between licking and sucking as I grabbed my own tits in desire. As he ate me out, I ran my fingers through his wet, tousled hair. Does he eat his girlfriend out like this? I found myself wondering. Lucky girl. And just then, I climaxed, squirting on his face and dripping all over the gym bench. Still buried between my thighs, Jacob shook his head in delight, taking in every drop. We’d turned this exercise room into a sex-ercise room, and he’d more than put his reps in.
It was a small miracle that no one walked into the fitness room. Jacob and I suited back up from our, uh, workout and headed back to the hot tub, a devilish grin splashed across both our faces, and proceeded to carefully avoid each other for the rest of the night. Now that the sexual tension had been taken care of, there was nothing else to say or do. We spent the rest of the night away from each other so as not to expose our little secret.
Despite our best efforts to play it cool, you could say the car ride back to Boulder the next day was definitely…interesting. Maybe it was just the hangxiety, but it felt like Nadia had an inkling about what went down—sans any evidence to prove it. Thankfully, we were all hungover, so we pretty much just slept and kept whatever dirty little secrets and suspicions we may have been harboring to ourselves.
Some decade-plus later, I’m older, wiser, and never one to encourage cheating. And yet, I’ll still admit—only here, only to you—that my little fitness room rendezvous remains the most fun I’ve ever had at the gym. And really, can you blame me?
*Name has been changed.
