The Contract

Chapter 1

Grinding my teeth in frustration, I slammed my laptop shut. I was useless at essays, and yet I had a whole nother 8,972 words left to go with no ideas left.

I was a criminology student, and don't get me wrong, I had nothing but passion for criminology, though that wouldn't change the fact that I couldn't write a decent essay to save my life.

It wasn't that I wasn't smart. I did great on my class work and the multiple choice questions, but when it came to writing? My effort was futile.

My best friend and roommate, Aaron, was the complete opposite of me. His essays were fantastic, but he didn't test well.

We often helped each other out, I think that was the only reason we were both still doing so well.

"Harry! Cam's heading out to Saber tonight with some of the other guys, and he said we can come. Are you down?" Aaron called out from the hallway.

Saber was a club nearby to our flat. It was pretty much only ever attended by students from our college.

"I can't go out mate, I've got two fucking weeks on the assignment and almost 90% left to go. I need to get this done." I said, spinning in my chair to face him as he opened the door.

"You aren't gonna be able to get anything done if you don't ever unwind Haz. Come on, just a couple hours, maybe talk to a girl, go back to hers." He grinned. "It's good for the mind. Gets the ideas flowing."

"Yeah, that'd be great. If I wasn't so stressed that I couldn't even get it up." I grimaced, my face heating up at my own confession.

"You what?" His brows furrowed.

"I have had months to get this done, and all I've achieved is 1,000 words of bullshit. And now I only have two weeks left to get the other 9,000 done. I can't think about anything other than the fact that it's not even possible." I shook my head. "You don't get it, Aaron, this is 20% of my grade, and I'm watching it slip between my fingers."

"I know, I know it's a big deal. But if this is stressing you out to that degree, that you can't even enjoy the other parts of life, that's not right." He said, tone softening.

"Sex isn't that big of a deal, and so what if I have to buckle down for these next two years? These last two years are the hardest." I shrugged.

"It's not about sex, Haz. It's about being a college student, doing things for yourself, for your enjoyment, being impulsive, and doing things for no reason other than you 'just felt like it'." I knew he was right.

"I'll go out for just a few drinks, a few. But I'm not trying to go home with anyone, I just wanna hang with my friends." I said, caving.

There was no way that I was having a repeat of the last time I tried to go home with a girl.

We'd been making out for around twenty minutes, and for at least ten of those minutes, her hand had been down my joggers, her palm grinding my cock through my boxers while her tongue ran wild over the side of my neck. Yet the whole time, nothing. No twitch, no throb, no hard on.

It was another level of embarrassing.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't have a whole lot of experience with women. I think the only time I really got anything out of the experience was the first time I had sex. I was a testosterone laden 17 year old having sex for the first time, though. I could've probably gotten the same amount of pleasure from my own hand.

Come to think of it, though, every time I hadn't been able to get off while having sex, it had been in missionary. That first time was from behind.

It was probably the eye contact. The only times a girl had ever made me come had been when I had my eyes closed.

"Okay, deal. A couple of hours, just us guys, and then an early night for an early start on that essay for you." He nodded.