Curiosity Changes

Driving home was always the worst part of the day. It wasn't that I didn't like going out for drinks with them, its just that as soon as they got the least bit intoxicated, they immediately launched into tales of the previous conquests, the things they did, the things they liked about her, the things they wished they had done with her, and on and on. Being the last one in the group to experience this, I usually just disengaged and spent the rest of my night in my own little word wondering why I couldn't get back on the diet I had tired so hard to stick to, wondering why I couldn't look an attractive girl in the eye, unless of course she was in a relationship. It was always the worst on the drive home.

Being in the confined space, without any drinks to escape into or any interesting decorations to look at, their stories got harder and harder to listen too.

"I have to be careful. I'm to big and I bottom out in most girls and it hurts them." Yeah right.

"I always hate falling asleep afterwords. I always am so sweaty and all I want to do is take a shower, but most girls consider it rude." Take what you can get. Some of us don't even have the opportunity to hold hands with a girl, so fuck off with that.

"She gave me road head one time, it was great." God damn I want to try that. All I wanted was to experience what they got to experience. I was more salty they got the opportunity, not that they were doing it. They are my friends, I don't wish any ill will towards them, but it was hard.

It is why I almost always offered to drive when we went out. It gave me a distraction. I always told them it was because I was scared of getting drunk, I had no wish to lose my faculties, but it offered a distraction from listening to them drone on and on. And because I liked to drive.

By the time we would get home, they would stand in the kitchen, continuing their tales of grandeur and I would slide off to my room when they weren't paying attention. A couple times they caught me and asked me "Hey, where you going?"

"I'm tired." was the excuse I gave most often. Sometimes I would just tell them I wasn't feeling well, or I had something to do in the morning. They almost always saw through it; most of the time they gave me a sad look, wishing they could help but didn't stop me on the way out. They cared but they didn't know what to do. And I didn't know either.

There were times when I was alone with one of them, where I would explain my frustration. They understood. "I remember my freshman year, I was in that boat. Don't worry, it'll happen."

"The right person will come along."

"You just need to be more confident. You look fine. Confidence is key."

I would always tell them "I don't want you to stop living your life, but please try and keep it to yourself. I get its fun for you, but its painful for me to listen to you. I would rather have complaints like you than have nothing at all."

After all, the closest I have ever been to a relationship has been a first date.

And yet, even after all the advice, after their encouragement and their understanding, nothing ever changed. When they got drunk, they continued to loudly proclaim their experience and I would wonder off into my own world of self pity and disgust.

Most of the time, after they had all fallen asleep, I would jack off in my room. That's where the curiosity lay. I had always wondered what it would be like to have breasts or a pussy, to be able to wear dresses and high heels, but that where it stopped. Just curiosity.

Lets take a step back. My name is John Doe. I am 21, in college as a senior .I am a bit overweight, with a recent wardrobe upgrade and a newly acquired interest in how I looked. I've been told I'm not bad looking, but I have yet to have any proof of that. I'm a little bit of a nerd. I'm into computers, movies, and cars, which probably doesn't help on the relationship front, but working out is easier than finding an interest in Football or frat parties.

I would like to think I have a bright future ahead of me; an internship turned job, experience, friends, a good family. Going into college, I wasn't sure what I wanted to study, so I chose communications. It combined a love for writing with a love for storytelling and an opportunity for careers down the road.

I live in a house with three other guys (we all have our own rooms, thankfully): David, Roger, and Parker. We are all seniors at the same college, though Parker and I have known each other for as long as I can remember.

At first glance, David looks to be your classic frat boy; he works out, has a couple tattoos, and always gets the girl. After you get to know him, he is a nerd on the inside. He loves playing video games and card games, knows a little to much movie trivia, and has an unhealthy relationship with his car (don't ask.)

Roger is the most loveable of all of us. Thin and lanky, he is the feminine one of the group. He has a great fashion sense, is always open to try new things, and teeters on the boarder of being homosexual. He is definitely the board game nerd. He is our DnD dungeon master and is always the one with a new board game to play.

Parker is my best friend. We have known each other for as long as I can remember and we share many of the same interests. He struggles with what he wants to do in life, but has a steady job he loves and is always down to try new things. He has always been the one to get the girls between the two of us.

The four of us make an interesting group, but we are great friends and pretty good roommates.

We all share a love of movies and generally try to see as many as possible. That's where my story begins.