C|SUITE LETTERS: My Boyfriend's Frat Friend Is A Sociopath And His Sex Life Is Fascinating

My Boyfriend's Frat Friend Is A Sociopath

And His Sex Life Is Fascinating

Dear C|Suite,

I had this friend in college who I am 99% certain was/is a sociopath. Now, do I know this for sure? Fuck no. I’m not a therapist. However, I grew up with a sociopath and I can see the signs pretty early. They’re actually quite fascinating to watch and he was super, super smart and frankly kind of hot.

I suppose it should be worth noting why I never fucked this guy: He did make me wet though a lot, but at the time I was dating one of his best friends. He [the sociopath] was sexy as hell, but he also scared the shit out of me; he treated women like play things.

Being a tall and long-legged blonde from the south, it was understandable or expected that he would at least try something with me, regardless. He hit on me once.

I was visiting my boyfriend at his frat house. After my boyfriend passed out drunk I ended up hanging out with his sociopathic friend in their common area.

“You know why you’re sexy, Victoria?” He asked me.

I raised an eyebrow without looking up from my book. “No, enlighten me.” I said.

“It’s the fact that you’re hot enough to be a housewife, but you’re still going to law school. It’s sexy.”

I kept my head down, still reading. “I feel like there’s some kind of misogyny baked in there.” I retorted.

“Sorry. I’m drunk a d-distracted. It’s hard because I want to fuck you so bad, Vic.”

The sheer frankness and honesty that came out of his mouth shocked me at first and sent shivers down my spine and hit my clit too.

“I’m dating your best friend, bro.” I quickly reminded him.

“I’m not saying I WOULD fuck you. I’m saying I’d like to.” He added.

“Okay, but you can get that out of your head now.”

Weirdly enough we actually formed a mutual respect after that, but I have no allusions as to why. I was a gem in his social circle. I was pretty, smart, and on the pathway to be successful. He liked being my friend. I think he also admired the power I had over others(including men) given my looks and social pull. We were pretty similar.

The truth is, I also liked being his, even though I knew what was happening. He was manipulating me in hindsight.

The thing about sociopaths is that they’re EXTREMELY likable because they mirror their companion’s emotions, and know how to stroke egos and hit-on insecurities. They are like marketing experts who write the ads for TV commercials.

I saw how he could manipulate people and felt the tug, but I also wanted him to like me. He was an ASS, especially to women, but the way he moved through this life was fascinating.

Once we were sitting by a bonfire at house party over Spring Break. He was wasted and a little too honest. He started staring at this girl until I finally called him out on it.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m studying that girl. I’m going to fuck her later.”

“Do you know her?”

“No.”

“So how do you know she wants to fuck you?”

After taking a huge swig of his beer he went into a fascinating tangent.

“She’s a sorority girl. She’s not comfortable in heels but she’s wearing them anyway because she wants to look good tonight and is looking to hook-up. Her shorts are too tight but she’s trying to hide her stomach with a baggy shirt. She hasn’t talked about school all night, so she probably has an easy major and I suspect she comes from money because her clothes are designer.”

“How is this going to help you fuck her?” I was curious and leaned toward him.

“I’m going to compliment her shorts, however, I am then going to make fun of her for walking in heels and say something backhanded about her baggy mom shirt. I’ll say Education isn’t a real major, but flash my watch at her so she knows I have money. I’ll reel her in, but then I will insult her slightly so she feels special when I pick her.”

“That’s not going to work.” I objected and caught myself rolling my eyes.

“Watch me.” He said, with all the irrational confidence in the world.

It did and it worked. I watched him approach her from the fire. She was in his room in like 10-minutes.

After I saw him do this, he fucking terrified me.

There was this other time I brought a friend over to another party of his and he started chatting her up. She came over to sit by me when he was in the bathroom and I was like, “Please Lea, do not fuck him.”

“Why? He’s hot and we have a lot in common. He loves animals like me and supports healthcare reform (her major).”

“He doesn’t support socialized healthcare. His favorite book is The Fountainhead. I promise he’s a chameleon.” I pleaded with her.

“He seemed sincere.” Lea added.

Of course he did.

She fucked him that afternoon.

He fucked enough of my friends that I learned pretty quickly he was excellent in bed.

You know why? BECAUSE HE COULD MIRROR EMOTIONS. Their descriptions would be totally different because he was mimicking their preferences.

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Anyway, there was this other time when he was tripping balls and we had the weirdest conversation of my life. He lost all inhibitions and became a very honest robot with me.

First off, he admitted he was dating several women at once. That alone, I must admit, got me the wettest out of all our interactions. I felt so ashamed and guilty during our times together because most of those interactions happened with my boyfriend in the same room or close by.

I asked about him being able to date several girls at once. “How does that work exactly?”

“Different sororities, Vic.” He quipped. “I always check their mutual friends on Facebook and then I have my settings so I can’t get tagged on Facebook. Once a week I post a status about them specifically and then hide it from everyone in the other girls’ circles. Then I can’t get accused of avoiding them online, even though I never change my relationship status or profile photo.”

“Can I ask you something? Do you feel bad about any of this?”

“I don’t think I feel guilt the same way other people do.” He told me.

“Can you explain that more?”

“Remember when I tried to fuck you after that party, you know, the first time we met?”

“Yeah…” I said hesitantly, since it was something I will never forget.

“I didn’t even think about the fact that you’re my best friend’s girlfriend. I just thought people would see me as disloyal and then I might lose some status. It's whatever.”

“Was I part of that equation at all?”

“On a physical level…yes. Also, I’m actually not sure you would have fucked me. You definitely want to. I can tell sometimes, but you don’t like me very much. Honestly, I pity you. Your life must be frustrating at this moment.”

“Weirdly enough, I do. Sometimes I don’t know why.” I admitted. At this point I was so wet I didn’t want to move and he could probably smell it on me. He didn’t let up, I asked for it though.

“You find me interesting." He continued. "You also think I’m smart but not as smart as you. You hate people who are smarter than you.”

“That’s not true.” I snipped at him.

He rolled his eyes. “It absolutely is. You LOVE being the smartest person in the room and try to hide your annoyance when someone else is right.”

I have since grown out of this.

“You are so fucked-up right now. You’re saying the quiet part out loud.” I was almost in tears, but at the same time super aroused. I was fucked-up, he was right.

“Yeah. I’ve never tripped before. This is wild.” He admitted.

“What would I be like in bed?” I asked.

He looked over and squinted his eyes to study me. Then he hit me with an assessment that still haunts my pussy to this day.

“You need to be good in bed because you’re competitive. You probably love giving head because that’s proof you’re good at sex, right? That’s what gets you turned-on. You like being the best someone’s had. You love control and a blowjob is the ultimate control over a man’s body, feelings and euphoria. You probably get off on that. Also, I think this whole innocence thing is kind of a front. You’re sexual as fuck. Sometimes I think you’re gay for women though.”

“You think I’m gay?” I laughed nervously.

He smiled at me.

“You act like you make-out with girls when you’re drunk because you’re being silly, but I can see your body change. And the way you kiss another girl is indicative of how you view yourself. You are in love with yourself so much so, and you project that through your real and passionate lesbian forays that just coincidentally happen to be in public and on full display. Plus, that girl you use to hang out with is definitely a lesbian and I think y’all were more than friends. I got off to it a few times to be honest. You’d be great for porn. Maybe you’re just bisexual, but you’re far too smart to come out. Your parents would probably disown you too. A career killer. You love the south but you’re obsessed with leaving and I suspect that’s why.”

I gaped at him. “You are truly a terrifying creature!”

He winked at me. “You have no idea.”

“ Okay, so what’s the weirdest lie you ever told someone to get them to sleep with you?” I couldn’t help myself, I was hooked.

“I once wanted to fuck a girl in the ass, so I told her I didn’t have condoms and was worried about her getting pregnant.”

“She let you?”

“Yep. She was even on birth control but I told her there was a recent study that said the brand she used was ineffective.”

“You are so sick.”

“I wouldn’t do that to YOU, Victoria. I think you have a perfectly good pussy to fuck.

No need to kick-in the backdoor when the front isn’t off its hinges just yet.”

“We would never fuck.”

“Oh we would in different circumstances. I wouldn’t do that to you because you’re my friend.”

“Why are we friends then?”

He stared at me again. I knew what was coming, another tangent/assessment. I really wanted him to touch me though at this point.

“I like being around you because you’re weird and always interesting. I think I get bored around at least 70% of people and most girls are just good for a quick fuck. Ditzy bimbos who have nothing else going for them; girls who will stay in this town for the rest of their lives living out their mediocrity in the burbs, eventually getting fat and having affairs with diabetes. You’re friends with me because you like that I like you, you like that I read, and you’re almost always analyzing me for reasons I’ve always wondered about.”

“How deep are you in this trip?” I added. He didn’t care to answer, just continued on about why we are friends.

“Plus, we like that we’re both attractive which I think means we’re either vain or have a small flirtation going on.”

“That’s never happening.” I stated again.

“Oh I’m aware, but we’ve both thought about it. You’ve masturbated to the thought of me on some of those lonely Saturday nights when your boyfriend is out with his buddies for a beer. I can tell. I’ve jacked off to you a bunch. We’d actually probably have good sex.”

“Dude, my boyfriend is around the corner.”

“I once told him I jacked off to you. He acted appalled but he was flattered. He likes that his girlfriend is hot enough that someone like me would get off to her.”

“Jesus dude… Can I ask you something else?”

“Sure. My inhibitions are low if you can’t tell.”

“You don’t really process emotions right?”

“Right.”

“What do you feel after sex?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” I asked again in bewilderment.

“I mean physically I feel something, but I’ve calculated exactly how long I have to hold someone before it’s socially acceptable to roll over and sleep. I feel nothing.”

“Holy shit. What is sex to you then?”

“I mean it feels good. Plus it’s proof of status. It’s a game I usually win.”

“You have good sex though. All of my friends have told me.”

He smiled at me. “You ask your friends how I am in bed because you want to hear about me in bed and maybe because you are a little gay and want to know if your friends had orgasmed. You probably get off to that too. To answer your implication, THEY have good sex because of me. Sex feels the same to me. I’m just there to get off. However, I have to make them feel good because being bad in bed isn’t socially acceptable.”

After hearing all that I shot straight at him, “I can’t tell if you’re going to murder someone someday, or be president of the United States.”

He looked at me. “You ARE gay right? Just a little?”

I sighed. “I’ve had sex with women, yes.”

“I fucking knew it. Your ex is so hot, by the way.”

“Yeah.”

“I bet you hated that. I always like being the hottest person in the relationship because it gives me all the power.”

“God you’re so fucked up.”

“Didn’t you let your boyfriend fuck you with a Popsicle? You’re kind of fucked up too, Vic.”

“He told you that?!” I scoffed.

“You love that he did. You love that he bragged about you in bed.”

“This is scary. Do you have ANY kinks?”

“None that are socially acceptable.”

“…What does that mean?”

He considered this. “I basically like sex acts where the girl I’m with gets no pleasure and I feel good. Anal is my favorite. I bet you like anal, right?”

“I’ve never done it.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Then you wouldn’t be the good girl anymore.”

“Jesus dude. I just have no desire.”

I did.

He called me on it. “You do.”

“Could you fuck a dude? If sex really means nothing.”

“No, I feel like my chances of being professionally successful would decrease with every dick I would suck.”

“Wow.”

“Yep.”

“So, you mirror people in bed so they always think you’re a sex God.”

“Ask the question you want to ask.” He said while studying me up and down.

“I don’t have a question.”

“You want to know how I’d fuck you, right?”

Fuck me, I did. He could see right through me. Like I was already nude to him.

I finally gave a reluctant nod.

He studied me for a bit more. “You like giving pleasure and you’re almost certainly submissive. I think I’d tell you what to do, test your limits, and then fuck you into oblivion. Like, bend you over that table behind you or something. I’d compliment your ass because you’re insecure about your body. You might even like spanking because of your spoiled upbringing and being daddy's little princess. I’d start with fondling to see what you like though. I’d actually like to come on your face just to wipe that fucking smirk you usually have right off. I’d probably make you compliment my dick. You’d like that. You’d like having sex with me generally off and on because I’d make you feel desired. I’d like having sex with you because I’d finally beat you at whatever game this is. This is all hypothetical, of course. You'd never fuck me. If not for any reason than to prove you're too good for it."

This was terrifyingly accurate... Also I was turned on.

“You scare me.” I stated firmly once again.

“No I don’t. I fascinate you and, like I said, you like the idea of us fucking. Hypothetically, of course.”

After that remark this was when my boyfriend came back into the room… he was also tripping balls so that was fun and slightly awkward. I excused myself to the bathroom.

Again, to be clear, we never, fucked, kissed, or even really liked each other.

However, I had ran to the bathroom because I had to fucking touch myself so bad.

I stuck a hand down my leggings the moment I got into door, and rubbed myself fast for all of two seconds because I was so turned on I couldn’t last beyond that.

I hated myself for it. It was such a good orgasm.

Anyway, it is scary how successful this dude is now, and he is very likely to go into politics.

Yours truly horny,

Ms. Fascinated