***

“Mmh.”

With enough crowd surfing and drowning, we made it back to Schrodinger’s room from earlier, and before the door even clicked shut, Bri pressed me to the wall with a gentle urgency, snatching my lips up in a kiss.

I had kissed some people—had a few hook-ups and whatnot over the past year—but making out with her was better than having sex with many women I had been with so far. It was clear she was a little older than me, likely a grad student. So she probably had even more experience, and the way she moved her hands under my clothes to tease me exuded pure eroticism. I was already a moaning, submissive mess as this woman took me apart with the strokes of her fingertips. God, would she just get us in bed already?

I was thankful the dorms, having only one room, lent themselves to this kind of frantic, hormonal daze, though this dorm seemed a bit more ornate than mine usually was. Wrapping my arms around her neck and one leg around her waist, I connected our bodies and rubbed myself on her leg as she lifted my dress and began licking and fondling my tits. She was so smooth that I hadn’t even noticed she had already unlatched my bra and was now working on disposing of it.

However, she paused and grinned as she sorted through the mess of fabrics as if she were on a safari. I was cranky that she broke our kiss, and the mixture of saliva on my face cooled with our breaths and the freezing of time between us.

“So you wear cute things like this under here, too. You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?”

She revealed that I had been wearing a lacy, strapless bra with all sorts of fluffy pink bows and black cups, an innocent yet sexy combination. I would have liked to say I came up with the surprise all on my own, but I definitely didn’t have the confidence to pull off lingerie yet outside of this situation.

Naturally, I turned it around on her and said, “And you? Do you want to surprise me somehow, show me what those hands of yours can do to me?”

She discarded the bra and reached under my dress once more to squeeze my ass, and I let out another moan. Still, I noticed she was flustered by my statement. So she had a thing for a bit of sass, huh?

“I’ll take care of you all night with them, and you can let me do all the work. Actually, I’d prefer it that way if you’d just let me touch you.”

Stone butch, I took it? While I had never slept with anyone like that, I was fine with just putting on a show for her and letting her have control over me. It was what I always wanted: to let myself be vulnerable in another woman’s presence and capture all her attention, to be accepted and happy as I was.

This VR system was really getting personal, but fuck if I cared when the chemistry was there.

Once again, I wrapped my arms around her neck, threaded my fingers through her gelled hair, and brought her closer to me, whispering, “What’s the wait, then? Just rail me already if you’re down for it.”

Like fireworks now ignited for New Year’s and burned through the icy sheen of Christmas, Bri picked me up with her hands under my thighs and sat on the bed with me in her lap. As boring and childish as the holidays had been all my life, I crumpled in pleasure under her ministrations.

And soon, the night gave way to climaxes, cuddles, and catnaps—my body completely fucked out and satisfied before the sun arose—and this innocent fantasy concluded in the satisfaction of more devious desires.

***

Like a visual alarm clock greeted me, I woke up in the late morning while on the couch, uncovered by blankets yet warmed by the light from outside. Curse the windows for never letting me sleep in.

Yesterday had been a good day, hadn’t it? I didn’t know where my dress from last night went, but I figured it was lying on the floor somewhere. I was encapsulated in bliss, floating between sleep and wakefulness without worries weighing me down.

As I stretched, I recalled I was in the same clothes as when I picked up my package—a boring pair of tan sweatpants and a tattered band t-shirt. Speaking of that package, where was it? What was it?

Shuffling on the cushion, a muffled bump let itself be known beside the couch, and through hazy, sleep-encrusted eyes, I saw an old-fashioned VR set. But I didn’t recall playing VR games with anyone at that big party last night. I just remembered seeing my friends enter, visiting my parents for a bit, and hooking up with that hot girl I met. (I smiled; what kind of bullet-train contraption let me do all that in one night?)

I struggled to recall her name, yet her face left a lasting impression on me. Still, the pinpricks of a nasty headache wouldn’t let me scour through the memories any more than a cursory amount.

My bones crunched like graham crackers as I stood up. The painkillers… They were probably in the kitchen cabinet, but there was no telling what happened to them or my morning pills when I had so many people over.

About to cross behind the bar counter, I stopped. But the party was at my parents’ house, right?

Maybe I drank too much, yet I wasn’t hungover. At all. My breath didn’t even smell like alcohol. Instead, I felt oddly empty. It was as if someone dug through my brain and removed enough puzzle pieces to where the picture of Christmas was comprehensible yet fundamentally flawed.

I really started to believe a magical train had carried me back and forth last night, and the only explanation must have been that I was so tired that I couldn’t recall anything after getting fucked senseless. That made enough sense, and I had to let myself live with that slight ambiguity. I continued to the cabinets, retrieved some pills and water, and downed them with a gulp as if I had just found a desert oasis.

When I returned to the couch, I noticed a discarded box beside its foot, sitting like a bucket of dirt had been kicked at the roots of a tree. The open flaps told me I definitely saw whatever was in it yesterday, but I reinspected the box.

There wasn’t something laced in here, was there?

Inside was a shady piece of cardboard without much branding. A box in a box—I didn’t expect a more creative gift for myself, really. I dug through the foam inside and grasped a thin sheet of paper.

Instructions. I figured these would clue me into what I received yesterday.

However, the slip was merely a note of gratitude, reading: “Thank you for purchasing the Lonely Hearts VR Christmas package! Please use it responsibly, and have the night of your life!”

The paper sunk from my hands like it was a submarine that was shot down.

No, last night couldn’t have been VR. It felt too real, and I couldn’t even remember putting on the headset.

So why did I feel like something was still missing? It definitely wasn’t the one-night stand or party that did this to me.

Before the angst from my spotted memories could overtake me like some kind of mental dalmatian, there was a gentle knock on my door.

Well, this place was locked down for non-university students, and the mail ladies at the bottom had no reason to overexert themselves like this. So unless some weird criminal had barged in, I was probably safe to assume another stray Christmas cat stood just beyond my door.

I cleaned the sleep out of my eyes as I strolled over, unlocking the door with a foolish lack of caution. Wiping my hands on my pants and in my morning daze, it took me a moment to recognize my visitor.

Strong presence, soft face… This was the woman from last night! Was she here to punch me? Was she angry about what happened between us? Or was I just superimposing her face onto a complete stranger?

Although I had been confident before, I cowered in fear. Who was the stray cat now, especially as I crouched like a startled kitten?

I straightened up, and with a gulp, I asked, “Hey, whatcha need?”

What a way not to be awkward!

Dead silence crept between us like a snake slithering around, ready to take its victims.

Just because it was the next day didn’t mean I still wasn’t taken aback by how attractive this woman was, and I found myself preoccupied and flustered again. If the package I saw was real, did that mean she was just a simulation created by the VR system to satisfy my wishes?

So why the hell did it conjure up another student who I had never seen before? Was this some kind of subconscious messaging or what?

But she was looking back at me with the same blush like she knew we had a secret together, the tension seizing us again like the contractions of a sore muscle. And that made even less sense to me. Supposing last night was all fake, I should have been the only one to remember it all, but if it was real, the way she acted so reticent was equally confusing.

She answered, “I just came to ask for some rice, honestly. I ran out, and the dorm’s caged in by this snowstorm outside.”

Ah, right. That was why my feed from yesterday in the mailing room was inundated by stories about the weather.

Nice weather, huh? That kind of boring small talk wasn’t going to work. I had to think of something else.

“Of course. I’ll get some for you.” I paused. “And your name is…”

Like a flash of lightning, part of last night came back to me.

“Bri,” we both said at the same time.

I wanted to facepalm. I shouldn’t have filled in the blank.

With a smile, as if all her worries about being remembered evaporated, she asked, “And you’re Misha, right?”

I considered checking to make sure I didn’t have my name in flashing neon lights somewhere, but there wasn’t any way she could glean that from context, I supposed, when my room was the definition of plain as white bread.

While I nodded, she added, “What a pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Oh, so I still got this treatment in real life. Where exactly was the line between last night’s fantasy and the reality in which we presently stood?

Rather, I didn’t think it mattered.

Last night had given me the confidence and enjoyment to be myself, and if Bri wasn’t running away, then surely I had a chance to sew these disparate pieces of a relationship together.

After all, it didn’t have to be only in dreams that I was happy if I worked hard to make it as such. The companionship I desired was no more out of reach than a wish to graduate from college soon—fully attainable with effort.

I extended my arm to her and attempted to pull her into my orbit.

“Would you like to come inside for a minute, too?”

And she stepped over the threshold with a nod.