Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 02

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For a full introduction into this story, read the first part of “The Resurrection of Crazy Jane.” Laziness dictates that I won’t fashion these installments to stand on their own.

Enjoy! Or don’t. I don’t need your praise :p


“You’re, um, going to live… here?”

Outwardly, I think I was playing it cool. Probably. Maybe.

Inside, I was a mess. A jumble of emotions.

I knew I was attracted to Zoey. That was obvious. Why deny it? And for some reason, she was attracted to me. That, or she just really enjoys making me squirm.

And whatever back and forth we’ve had, it was all entertainment to be honest. If I was single, I would’ve become obsessed with her after her come-ons. I would have been at the bookstore daily. Shit, hourly. I would not play it cool.

But now, I had a girlfriend to focus on. One that I love. Probably. Maybe.

Having Zoey here would cause a fight. A lot of them. Beth was so insecure and unpredictable.

“I mean, if you’re not okay with that …” Beth said derisively.

“Huh?” Jeez, I must’ve checked out there.

“I said I really need somebody here, I need the money, and if you’re not…” Beth continued.

“No, no, it’s fine. I mean, I have no problem with it. Zoey, uh, Zoey is good people…” She’s great people. She’s hot fucking people. She’s walking Viagra. “Besides,” I continued, “I don’t even live here. What kind of asshole would I be if I had a problem with this?”

I looked at Zoey, and she was just looking at me. It wasn’t that hungry look that seemed to be her default face. Now, it was a pouting look. And not like an “on purpose” pouting look. It was more of a truly apprehensive expression, based on what I was saying, and her damn blue eyes just got big and sad and pathetic behind her glasses. She’s not even trying and she just looks, fucking scrumptious!

Dude! Quit thinking like this. She’s going to be living here! So turn it off!

“Don’t worry, Beth,” Zoey said. “If he doesn’t like me now, he will.”

Jesus, that girl has an evil smirk.

“Agreed!” Beth said happily. “You’ll be the best of friends.”

“Yeah,” I forced a chuckle. “Friends.”

I looked at Zoey and approached her. Showing a half-smile, I raised my hand up, asking wordlessly for a high five. She looked at me strangely and awkwardly, and when finally realizing what I was going for, she slowly, almost sarcastically, gave me a soft five.

Yep, these are the things I did with girls when I was single. Smooth.

Two days later, Nikki gathered her things. She and Beth were not speaking. Since, whenever I talked with Beth, she used every opportunity she could to talk shit about Nikki, but in that Disney Channel “Beth” sort of way. It was cute.

“She was impossible. She left soda cans everywhere. It was like she lived inside of a, um, a trash can at a bowling alley.”

“She left all her dirty towels on the floor in the bathroom. If I wouldn’t have minded smelling like Nikki mildew, I could’ve slept in the bathroom.”

She wasn’t funny or anything, but god help her, she tried so hard.

Beth said two words to her: “Hi” when she knocked on the front door, and “Thanks” when she gave Beth her key.

When Nikki walked out for the final time, Beth immediately hugged me and started crying.

Women are confusing.

I spent the night with Beth that night, and finally being alone, I wanted to fuck.


For once, we could both moan and not be concerned with being quiet for a roommate.

We were cuddled in bed, spooning, and I put my arm over her, tucking it underneath her breasts while we were laid down. Then, I began kissing her neck. Lightly, softly, but with a little nibble. It was enough to make a little moan escape her lips.

Yes, our sex life was normalizing!

My hand migrated up over her boobs as her nipple began to harden through her bra and her shirt. Finding the little nub, I squeezed it lightly and ran my finger around it as I lightly sunk my teeth into her ear lobe.

I felt my cock expand and hit her thigh, and I thrust into her as my nibbles, bites and licks became more passionate.

But as soon as I humped my cock into her leg, she pulled back and jumped out of bed.

“Is that all you think about?” Beth said, pulling her shirt down, as it had ridden up slightly. “Can’t you just hold me without trying to wave, that, at me?” she said, frustrated, pointing at my tented shorts. “I’m just, I…” she forced out before running to the bathroom and closing the door.

I just laid there, rubbing my dick and looking up to the ceiling. Then, getting progressively louder, I heard sobs from behind the door.

I got up and walked toward the bathroom, ready to say something. But I knew from experience.

Be quiet. Or deal with the consequences.

Women are sincan escort sooo fucking confusing!

I ended up sleeping on the couch that night. I was waiting in the bed for her once she came out of the bathroom and I made sure to hug her tight. Just hold her, like she wanted.

It still felt awkward, so I kissed her lightly on her cheek. And she groaned, upset.

I froze. I was just trying to be nice and comfort her for whatever the hell it was that was bothering her, because I couldn’t even keep track at this point. Eventually, I lifted my arm off of her and laid on my back and stared at the ceiling. That lasted for about five minutes, replaying the situation in my head and just … pondering. Neither of us touching each other.

I got up and told her I was going to get a glass of water, asking her if she needed anything. She said nothing.

Fuck this.

I got my drink and just crashed on the couch.

In the morning, in pure Beth style, she woke up like she had no care in the world, coming to the couch and kissing me on my cheek to say good morning.


“Do you have any plans today?” she asked me.

“No, just reading a bit. You know, finals are in two weeks.”

“Will you be around at noon or so?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Why?”

She exhaled. “I need to work at 11 and Zoey was going to move in today. She doesn’t have anybody to help her. Could you wait here for her and help?”

My eyes got big and my breath caught in my throat. “Uh, um, I don’t know. I might be studying then…” No, you dumb shit. You’ll be around. And you know it!

“You just said you’d be around. It should only take like an hour.”

“But, doesn’t she, like, have some guy that could help her?”

“She has no boyfriend and she just moved here for school, and…” Beth stopped and just looked at me. She just pulled out her stink eye!

“I knew it. You don’t like her!” Beth accused me. No, I like her TOO MUCH!

“It’s not that. It’s just…” It’s just that you’re scared of her? Scared of what she’ll say or do? Wondering if you’ll catch a glimpse of her in a bra once she’s living here? Or maybe even a naked glimpse?

“It’s just what?” Beth pushed.

Shit. I had to come up with something. Anything.

“She is just, like you told me… Inappropriate. I just worry you’ll, I don’t know…”

She got a really sad, yet angry look on her face. She turned her head away from me and made that grunt noise she always made when she was insulted or upset.

“I’ll what? Freak out? Freak out that she might say ‘slut’?” Beth said, whispering that final word sarcastically. “Or ‘whore’? Or ‘fuck’? Why does everybody worry that I’m going to freak out?!”

I violated the rule. I acknowledged it.

Her secret.

What had happened to her.

That she was sensitive.


I wonder if Zoey even knew about it? I doubted it. Either way, I fucked up yet again.

“I just, nevermind,” I said, reserving myself. “I’ll be here. At noon. Don’t worry.”

She continued shaking her head. “Good,” she said with a shade of anger in her voice. “I’m going to take a shower and get ready for work.” With that, she disappeared.

To be honest, I kind of didn’t care about Zoey at that point. I was just so exhausted from seeing Beth be broken. And though I would never admit it to her, I was sick and tired of trying to fix her.

I’m just a dumb, immature 20-year-old guy with dumb, immature 20-year-old thoughts. I’m NOT a saint and I’m NOT perfect. I won’t always say the right thing. And goddammit, that needs to be OKAY!

“Ok, I’m off,” Beth announced, her voice full of melancholy. “You’ll, um, be here?”

“Yes, don’t worry about it.”

I continued sitting on her couch while she was at the door, ready to leave. I was hardly making eye contact, and when I did, I forced it. But not too much, since I had absolutely no right to be upset. I wondered if I should hug or kiss her goodbye. But the mental gymnastics were too much.

If I hug her, she might get sad.

If I kiss her, she might get upset.

I just wasn’t smart enough to play the cause-effect game with her. So I stayed put.

She didn’t advance toward me either. She just turned the handle.

“Bye,” she said, as she opened the door and left.

I continued sitting there, picking up that Yeats book again. And read about Crazy Jane on her day of judgment:

‘Love is all


That cannot take the whole

Body and soul’;

And that is what Jane said.

‘Take the sour

If you take me

I can scoff and lour

And scold for an hour.’

“That’s certainly the case,’ said he.

I got out my notebook, and wrote a few more lines, adding to that unfinished poem that Zoey interrupted a few days earlier, trying ankara escort to free-write.

Many nights spent in abject


Sitting in Sybil’s bedroom

It smelled of poison ivy and lye

“Make the bed before you go,”

her voice cracked,

then she broke into a soliloquy about nightingales

As I thought with passion about

brushing my teeth

I didn’t even know what was going on in my own mind. I scrutinized my lines when I heard a knock.

I knew it was her.

And I didn’t really care. So I opened it to see Zoey, her hands behind her back, expectant. I barely looked at her. But it was impossible not to acknowledge that she was wearing short jean shorts and a casual black tank top with a yellow and gray sports bra underneath, the straps quite evident, peeking out from underneath her tank. For the first time, I saw an outline of her torso, and she seemed to have an athletic and toned stomach and ass to along with her ridiculous rack. I could see everything, to be honest. And remaining honest, I kind of didn’t care. For once, I turned my mind off to her feminine wiles.

“Hey,” I grunted, opening the door before walking back to the couch. “Come in.”

As I sat, she walked inside, slowly. “Nice to see you too, roomie,” she smiled, trying to break whatever tension was in the room.

“Oh god, don’t start,” I said, exasperated. “Where’s your stuff?”

“It’s, uh, in the parking lot. And…” She walked over the couch, sitting next to me. Probably too close to me. I instinctively moved down the couch, further away from her. “And what do you mean, ‘don’t start?'” Her voice adopted an annoyed tone that I hadn’t heard from her before.

I threw my hands in the air. “The cutesy shit! That’s what! The hitting on me crap. The little notes. I get it, you like making me squirm for whatever reason. But you’re living with my fucking girlfriend now. So, stop it. OK?” I just gave zero fucks at that point. I was pissed and I didn’t need this vile temptress complicating things.

Her eyes were big. She looked, well, shocked.

“And he actually talks! I’m impressed.” She gave me a look that showed that she was impressed. Truly. Then she cracked a smile. A flirty smile. Because every damn smile this girl had could be construed as “flirty”. Damn girl just oozed sex whether she was trying or not. Gah, this is my point! She needs to stop it!

“I just, don’t… whatever!” I said, again getting exasperated. “Let’s move your shit, okay?”

I got up and walked out the door. She followed and, for the moment, we were all business. I wanted to get this done and over with, and get the fuck out of there. She had a tiny $15 U-Haul, filled with boxes and little bits of furniture.

I grabbed a big box. “Can you pile another one on top please?” I asked her. She grabbed a smallish one and placed it on the big box I was already holding. It was still light. “I can handle about one or two more,” I told her.

“Hmm, showing off are we?” she teased me, making eye contact with me and giggling before placing another box on. I don’t think she saw my eye roll.

She grabbed a couple garbage bags full of stuff and followed up behind me. The walk to the apartment was long. She parked in the far lot, for one, and we had to go up four flights. Thank goodness I had started working out. I didn’t get as tired as I used to when I was out of shape.

“I’ll say it again,” she said to break the silence. “I am impressed. You’re barely breaking a sweat. Good to know we will have a strong man around the house in case one of us girls needs something fixed.” She slowly descended into a little girl voice as she said that. It was so damn cute and sexy. And annoying. I sighed, angrily.

“Well, I am breaking a sweat,” I informed her. “It’s hot out here. And maybe I wouldn’t break a sweat if you parked any closer than the fucking East parking lot.”

“Somebody got up on the wrong side of bed this morning,” she said as we reached the second flight of stairs. “Did my roomie not go down on you long enough last night?”

I froze at that statement. What. The. FUCK?

“What?” I groaned, my voice cracking, losing that resolve I’d had since she showed up.

“I mean, not that I’d blame her,” she continued. “I’m pretty sure my jaw would cramp on that big thing two minutes into it.” I couldn’t see her, since she was obstructed by a pile of boxes. But damn, in my mind, I could imagine the face she was making.

It was her damn “sexy hunger” face. That “daring” face. I fucking knew it. It had to have been.

I said nothing. No reaction. Just made my way into the apartment and to her bedroom. I began to drop the boxes and…

“Owww!” I wailed.

The boxes landed on my hard cock head as I put them down. Fell right on top of it and nearly broke the damn thing in half! Great, etimegut escort she got me hard with that shit. Wonderful.

I immediately crumbled to the floor in shocked pain as one of lighter boxes tumbled from the top and fell onto the floor. That HURT. Spraining your dick HURTS!

“Shit!” I cursed, my hands going to my crotch, but trying to hide my deflating hardness.

“Oh my god, what happened?”

I was ready to respond, but doing so would also give away the information that she got me hard. I wasn’t in the mood to even disclose this injury… to her!

“The… fuck… box and it… God, FUCK!”

She half-laughed with her mouth wide open as she looked at my crotch and pieced together what happened. “Oh-oh-oh sweetie, I’m sorry. That couldn’t have felt good.”

“You THINK!?” I was more in shock and embarrassed as this injury than hurt, but it was a strange pain I’d never felt before. Like getting kicked in the nuts, but different.

Suddenly, like it was instinct, and without any fanfare, the fucking girl grabbed my cock, still tenting my shorts, and began to rub it.

Oh my fucking GOD!

She angled her big eyes up at me, looking at me from behind her glasses, biting her pink lip.

“Are you okay?” she asked with a pouty voice, looking down at it then back up at me.

I stayed still, in shock. To be honest, Beth had never even given me a handjob. In fact, it was the first time a girl ever touched my dick with her hand.

This whole situation was sending wild jolts up my spine, scrambling my brain.

Again. What. The. FUCK?

I knew I had to stop it. She had crossed a line. Obviously.

But she had such a grip on it, half loose and half firm, just the way I grab myself. She was rubbing right under the head, dancing her fingers over my most sensitive spots.

Jeez, this girl knew what she was doing.

I had to stop this. I had to. But, but… goddamn… maybe a little longer. Just a bit.

I felt my cock instantly re-inflate, then flex repeatedly as the tingling feeling traveled up the shaft. Dang, was I already going to cum?

She didn’t take her gaze off of mine. But the smile left her face, and instead, she bit her lip again, squinting her eyes as they filled with… lust? Focus? I’ve only seen that look in porn before. That had to be what it was. Whatever it was, I fucking liked it!

I let it go on for about a minute, but I had to stop it. I had to. For Beth.

“W … w … what are … you need to …”

I managed to squirm away from her grip. She looked disappointed, but, somehow, proud.

“I, uh… need to go to the bathroom,” I gasped, turned around and literally ran to the bathroom, closing the door.

I sat on the toilet, my shorts still on, breathing heavily. What the fuck just happened? Like, what in the actual fuck just happened?

This living arrangement is going to be much worse than I ever imagined. What the fuck am I going to do?

Unconsciously, I was tugging at my cock. It was rock hard, twitching almost, and my pain was pretty much gone. Or at least ignored. She WAS a vile temptress.

In almost a fit of passion, I snatched my shorts, brought them to my knees, wrapped my hand around my cock and started masturbating as if my life depended on it. I had just lost it.

Was I jerking off while she was on the other side of the door? Probably listening?

I exhaled and kept going. Then she interrupted me out of my haze.

“Don’t forget to wash your hands when you’re done,” Zoey hollered in from the other side of the bathroom door. “I don’t want my stuff having gross boy smells on it.”

I heard her giggle, and the sound of her voice just pushed me over. Just seconds after her giggle, I came hard, shooting all the floor, completely forgetting to grab a tissue. I might have lost control and grunted. And if the far away giggle I heard was any indication, I probably did.

And, since she planted the idea in my mind, I washed my hands.

A minute later, I emerged from the bathroom. She was nowhere to be seen. I peeked in her room. In Beth’s room. In the kitchen. Nothing.

I was headed toward the pickup to see if I could find her when she burst through the door, holding a little box that probably weighed five pounds.

And she was wearing nothing but her shorts and her sports bra. Sweet baby Jesus.

She walked right past me, bumping her hip into me playfully as she passed, heading into her bedroom. She soon emerged out, sans box, just standing there in her sports bra, her right arm elevated as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“You’re right. It was hot out there,” she said in a husky voice, lowering her right arm and bringing it back to her side, her finger tracing the side of her bra slowly as her arm lowered. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Without a care in the world, she walked toward me. She played her intense eye contact game with me, staring through me, with hunger, as she approached. Then, like she didn’t have a care in the world, she walked past me, tugging at my shirt as she did.

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