Spring Semester

Hands grabbed me by the waist. I was yanked out of Melissa. The condom flew off my cock with the combined force of the tightness of her vagina and the hands that wanted to mangle me. I toppled backwards off the table, ass hitting the floor, and I turned around to see Brie.
She glared at me for a small moment. Small, but large enough to realize everything that both of us had been doing behind one another’s backs for the past few weeks and how we both suddenly knew.
She forgot about me. She marched up to Melissa and swiped at her. Melissa ducked away and scooted back on the table.
“Enough fun for you, bitch?” Brie yelled and slapped Melissa on the face.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Brie shouted back. “Oh my God, what the hell is this?”
“Do you know who he is? Do you have a single brain cell that know more than how to cheer for sports teams that will let you comprehend that this guy you’re fucking belongs to me?”
They proceeded to shout at each other and call each other bitches. I stood, limp-dicked, pants down, and watched. What else could I do? It was right around the part when Brent and the girl who led the sorority strode over to both girls that Brie struck Melissa on the jaw. Melissa jumped back, completely bewildered. She charged at Brie and began slapping her upside the head.
Someone in Alpha Alpha Sig Fi yelled; “Catfight!”
Everybody began chanting it. Brent and his sister-leader held back for a few moments, letting the spectators have their spectacle, before deciding to intervene again before these two females killed each other. Brent grabbed Melissa and Brie was grabbed by her sorority leader. They continued to shout at one another. Brie was clearly a much better fighter. Melissa looked roughed up, and it took one more set of hands to hold Brie back.
I went back to the bedroom where Melissa and I had been. I put on my boxers and pants. I picked my wallet up and put it in my pocket. I left the room and as I did, I met eyes with Brie, now being sat down on the couch, being lectured/soothed by a few of her soon-to-be-not-sisters. Her look was so hateful I couldn’t bear it.
I went out the front door and nobody tried stopping me. I passed John, who made elaborate naked drawings of each girl he banged. He was smoking a cigarette and looked like he’d been here for a while and just didn’t care.
“You aren’t coming back, are you, Dennis?” he said.
I looked at him.
“No,” I said. I ran off down the black, black road.