The bass thumped through the crowded frat house like a heartbeat on steroids, vibrating the sticky floorboards under Roy's Air Force sneakers.
Red solo cups littered every surface, and the air hung thick with the stench of cheap beer, weed, and sweat-soaked bodies grinding against each other.
Laughter exploded in bursts from clusters of students, their faces flushed under the dim glow of string lights and strobe flashes.
Roy sighed audibly. He stood by his lonesome, clutching his lukewarm beer, the condensation dripping down his fingers as he scanned the room.
"I hope today is my day..."
College was supposed to be his playground, a non-stop parade of easy lays and wild nights where girls threw themselves at him.
But so far, it had been a drought, endless blue balls, and awkward silences that left him retreating to his laptop every damn night.
But today. Today was the day, he could feel it.
That was what he told himself.
He had gawked at many girls tonight, but this one. This one was special.
He spotted her across the room, leaning against the kitchen counter, chatting with a couple of giggling sorority types.
Damn, she was a vision: long brunette waves cascading over her shoulders, a tight tank crop top hugging her curves like it was painted on, the thin fabric straining against her full, heavy breasts that jiggled slightly with every laugh.
The top rode up just enough to tease a sliver of toned midriff, and her low-rise jeans clung to wide hips that swayed as she shifted her weight.
Roy's mouth went dry, his grip tightening on the plastic cup.
'Fuck, those tits,' he thought, imagining how they'd bounce if he grabbed her right there, yanked that top down, and buried his face between them.
His cock twitched in his jeans, already half-hard from the visual alone. He didn't even need to think about what he would do next. The beer did the thinking for him.
Pushing through the throng of bodies, Roy made his way over, dodging a couple making out sloppily against the wall and a guy chugging from a funnel.
The music pulsed louder as he approached, some trap beat with lyrics about popping bottles and dropping panties.
He sidled up next to her group, flashing what he hoped was a charming grin, though it came out more like a leer.
"Hey, ladies," he said, his voice cutting through the noise, his eyes locked on the brunette in the most obvious manner. "This party's lit, right? But it's missing something... like you dancing with me."
The two friends exchanged glances, smirking, but the brunette turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
She was even hotter up close, her green eyes sparkled under mascaraed lashes, and her lips looked glossy and plump.
Roy's gaze dipped immediately, tracing the swell of her cleavage, the way her nipples poked faintly against the fabric in the cool air from the open window.
He lingered there, unashamed, like a dog catching a scent. He completely forgot about the beer in his hand as he pictured sucking on those peaks until she moaned.
Megan noticed, of course. Her smile faltered into a tight line as her irritation soared. "Excuse me?" she said, crossing her arms under her chest, the action only serving to push her breasts up higher, and making Roy's stare drop even lower.
The motion drew his eyes right back, and he didn't bother hiding it, even letting his tongue dart out to wet his lips hungrily.
"Come on, don't play coy," Roy pressed, stepping closer, the heat of her body radiating toward him.
He could smell her perfume, something sweet and floral, mixing with the smell of weed in the air.
"You look like you know how to have fun. What's your name? I'm Roy. Bet you'd look even better out on the floor, shaking that ass into my groin."
His words tumbled out with no filter, laced with that desperate edge he couldn't shake. His free hand began itching forward to touch her hip.
Her friends snickered, one of them whispering, "Oh god, incoming creep alert." Megan uncrossed her arms, planting a hand on her hip.
"Seriously? That's your line? You're staring at my chest as if you've never seen boobs before. Back off, dude, you're nothing but a disgusting virgin."
Roy blinked, heat creeping up his neck, but he doubled down, fueled by the beer buzzing in his veins. "What? Can't a guy appreciate a fine view? You're stacked, babe. Those tits are begging to be groped."
He gestured vaguely with his cup, spilling a drop of beer on the floor, his eyes flicked down again, tracing the curve from her collarbone to the hem of her top.
In his mind, he was already peeling it off, palming those soft mounds, and pinching the nipples until she gasped.
The room seemed to be quiet, just a fraction around them. Multiple heads turned as the conversation escalated.
A guy nearby hooted, "Get it, bro!" but Megan's face hardened.
"You're disgusting. Perverted creep. Do you talk to all girls like this, or am I just lucky?" Roy, however, did not answer; his eyes raked over her tits over and over.
She stepped forward, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Eyes up here, asshole. And no, I'm not interested in whatever sad pickup game you're running."
Roy's grin faltered, but he laughed it off, trying to play cool. "Lighten up, it's a party. We're all here to hook up. Bet you'd change your mind if you felt what I've got going on."
He shifted his stance, subtly thrusting his hips forward, as if that would seal the deal. The leer returned full force.
His gaze was raking her body from head to toe, lingering on her thighs squeezed into those jeans, as he imagined spreading them wide.
That did it.
Megan's hand flew up swiftly.
Thwap!