A Cheater's Regret (Chapter 1) - Sex Stories

A Cheater's Regret (Chapter 1)

... with a B+ and happier than ever. It didn't take long for him to become completely dependent on me. But that spoiled, rich little shit had no problem shoveling money my direction, and I had no problem taking it. Big mistake. I was in my dorm room one night working on Matthew’s psychology midterm. My bitch of a roommate Melanie blundered in – she could barely walk straight and I could smell the booze in her breath. She was like this at least three or four times a week and I was absolutely sick of it. Not to mention she never missed an opportunity to tease me in front of her little sorority friends and make my life difficult. I couldn’t wait for the semester to end so I could request a different room. Melanie shambled over to the desk and looked over my shoulder. “What are you working on?” she yapped at me. “My psychology paper,” I mumbled. Could she just go to sleep and leave me alone? “Didn’t you do your psychology paper already?” she slurred. “Yeah well, I’m re-writing it,” I said, growing exasperated. “Hmmm… are you sure that’s really your paper?” she asked snidely. My heart skipped a beat. “Of course it is!” I insisted. “Now could you let me work in peace?” Melanie grinned and sprawled out on her bed. A few minutes later I could hear her snores. I wondered if she was suspicious of me. Good thing she was wasted, she would forget the whole thing the next day. After my psychology class the next day the teacher, Mr. Jeffries, called me over to his desk and told me to come to ...

... the academic office with him. I went numb. I knew what this was about. The walk down the school hallways to the office was the longest few minutes of my life. The academic director for sexual studies, Ms. Turring, was waiting for us. Ms. Turring is a tall, older woman with dikey short-cropped hair. She doesn’t take any nonsense – I’ve seen her verbally rip apart students who crossed her. But she’s always liked me, and told me I had a promising future with the school. The angry and disappointed look on her face hurt me more than anything else in this messed up situation. Ms. Turring held up a paper – it was my psychology midterm paper. “This is very good,” she said. “Thank you,” I said, trying my best to maintain my composure. Maybe I could still get through this. Ms. Turring held up a second paper. “You know what this is?” I shook my head, even though I knew perfectly well what it was. “This is Matthew’s paper,” Ms. Turring said. I stood very still. “Or at least that’s the name on the paper,” she continued. “But I know it’s not his, because, to put it bluntly, he’s an idiot.” I didn’t say a word. I just stared at the floor. “Did you write this?” she asked me. I was tempted to lie, but I felt compelled to be honest. “Yes,” I whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. “Well, at least you told the truth,” she said. “If you had lied, I would have had you expelled right here. Matthew already confessed, so the game was already up.” A part of me remembered Melanie. That bitch snitched ...