Debating the Freshman 15 with Charmaine

You head out into the hall lounge, wondering if you might have a lucky encounter. Sure enough, you spot Charmaine passing through. She’s dressed in a tight fitting blue leotard that hugs her curves, and you resist the urge to check out her ass.

“Hey Charmaine, d’you want to get together to work on the next seminar paper?” you ask. “I’ve got a couple thoughts that I want to run by you.”

She pauses, glancing quickly at the door, and then at you and your laptop.

“Uhm… sure?” she says. Then, a second later: “That sounds great!”

“It’s fine if you’ve got other plans,” you say, then taking a second to ogle her a bit. “I just realized you’re dressed up to go somewhere, right?”

Perfect excuse, and you’ve got her blushing ever so slightly.

“No, not at all, I’m just… this is comfy,” she says. “I was just going to fill up my water bottle.”

She lifts it up, dangling it. It looks pretty full to you.

“Cool. Your room then, after you’re done filling it up?” you ask.

“Yep, see you!” she says, hurriedly making for the water fountain.

The two of you settle into Charmaine’s single, the readings from the semester spread out like a fan around you on the floor. The number of books that you have to read for the course is a constant surprise, and you thank your lucky stars that you’re not a humanities major. You couldn’t possibly do this for four years in a row.

“Well, I’m against the Freshman 15. That shouldn’t come as a surprise,” Charmaine says. “It’s a matter of principle.”

“Because sex is an act of love, and you can’t possibly love fifteen people at the same time,” you say.

“You stole the words straight from my mouth,” the black beauty smiles. “It just doesn’t make sense, does it? What’s the point of chasing this fad when it’s all just temporary, physical genital-jamming? Honestly, I don’t get it. Just do it for love, not lust!”

“But you know, that’s always struck me as a hard thing,” you say. “How are you supposed to know who you love without having been with them first? It’s great to have the ideal of love at first sight, but you have to know if the physical chemistry’s there to know if the rest of it follows. I think it’s fine for people to explore to figure out what they want.”

Charmaine nods, considering your point.

“I guess it’s hard to know who you’re supposed to be with,” she says. “But the Freshman 15 is just reckless. Sleeping with one or two people to test the waters, that makes sense. But fifteen? Seriously?”

“It could be a smaller number,” you laugh, conceding the point. “Think of it this way, though. Most people meet their partners after college. So you might as well have some fun along the way, right? And if you happen to hit it off exceptionally well on person number seven, nothing’s forcing you to complete the fifteen. But at least it’ll have started you on your journey.”

“I’m still hung up on the number,” Charmaine says, shaking her head. “The Freshman 3, that would be fine with me. But once you set the number so high—fifteen!—there’s just a pressure to hit that number. I think people pass up on opportunities to form deep relationships, just because they want to increment that count.”

“Or, this helps people get past those crummy, mediocre relationships that often end up dragging too long,” you say. “There’s a lot of loveless marriages out there.”

“Hmm…” your friend says, casting her gaze at the books on the ground.

She’s awfully attractive when she’s thinking like this, and your mind begins to drift towards the curves of her body again, and then she gives you a reproachful look.

“I don’t think I’ve changed my mind, but you’ve given me a lot to think about,” Charmaine says.

“Likewise,” you say.

“I would really like to talk more, but—” she lets out a huge yawn. “I should probably get to sleep soon,” she laughs.

You look at the clock, startled by the hour.

“Yeah, for sure,” you say. “Get a good night’s rest!”

{if Charmaine > 10} “Good night, Alex,” she says, leaning forward to give your cheek a kiss.

You grasp her by the hand, staring into her eyes, and give her a deeper kiss. Her lips are soft as silk, the heat of the moment temporarily leaving both of you breathless.

“I should… I should really get to sleep,” she says.

“Sweet dreams,” you smile, and she smiles back at you, waving you good night. {else} “Good night, Alex,” she says. {endif}

Charmaine +15