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Dorm Room Vixan

Category: Anal Sex
03.04.2019
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I stood in the crisp sunlight bursting through my window, my shades pulled back and inviting the morning inside. It was September; the first day of classes.

My parents had helped me move in to my residence room a week ago, giving me time to get acquainted with all the people that would be on my floor. I had made a good number of friends, many of which I already had invited me to spend the next weekend on a drinking splurge.

Today was the first class of my Intro to Psychology course; a mandatory course for any first year student taking Criminal Justice. Yes, I was a law guy. Most of the people on my floor were law kids as well, giving us a great chance to bond with each other over our predictions of the year to come.

It was cold enough for snow, but by sheer stroke of luck we hadn’t had any yet. I slapped on a grey sweater with a crossed stitching in the neckline. I shuffled into a pair of dark blue jeans and fixed the strands branching off from my hair.

Outside was likely brisk and refreshing compared to the interior of the residence building. The radiators in most of our rooms are broken, creating a lingering wave of heat that spreads throughout the halls when people keep their doors propped open.

Luckily, my radiator was in perfect condition and never got stuck pumping out hot air. My room was cool, and relaxing. My roommate was not so lucky.

His name is Carter, and he’s as close to a best friend as I’ve ever had. We both like the same music, watch the same movies, play the same video games and like (for the most part) the same women. He’s a swell guy, and over the past week he and I had gotten to know each other pretty well.

I knew he was lagging behind me to the same class; our schedule was really similar. I shouted to him from the common area leading off from our side-by-side bedrooms. “You’re gonna be late for your first day, dude.”

“Fuck off, Morris.” He yelled at me, followed by a slumping noise. I figured he’d fallen from his bed but I wasn’t about to call him on it. He used my nickname, a shortening of my last name; Morrison, so I knew he wasn’t too pissed with me.

Leaving him to his business seemed to be the best course of action, so I clicked the door shut on my way out and took off towards the large, grey building located three minutes walking distance from the residences.

The September chill spiking through the air was contagious, spreading past the warm confines of my jacket and sticking to my skin like icy bark. If I wasn’t a person who thrived in the cold, days like today would keep me in bed.

I knew of a back entrance to the school that got me in from the cold quicker, and I made sure to use it. In from the windy wasteland, a heavy, warm blanket descended upon me. Coupled with my sweater, that made me very toasty indeed.

My class was on the first floor, in one of the two central lecture halls. I stepped through the tall wooden door and cringed at the creek, expecting to be intruding on a room of quiet chatter. Instead, a wall of loud laughter and conversation hit me head on.

Something about my vision of university had told me that it would be a more elegant experience, at least in the classrooms. Nobody was yelling, but there was a minimum volume control that kept most of the voices louder than normal.

Every chair was a comfortable, padded seat with wheels. On our rising colosseum of desks, in the middle of a three hour lecture, rolling across the carpeted floor brought strange comfort.

Most of the seats were already filled, whether by students or by backpacks, so I took the chair closest to me. Turns out the closest was still really far away, like “two seats from the back” far away.

All the desks were sat in a wide semi-circle around the front of the class, rising up higher and higher the further to the back they reached.

Next to me was a girl I recognized from a couple floor parties, a cute girl, in fact.

I remembered her name and figured it’d be smart to introduce myself to her, so I filled the wheeled chair beside her. Not even acknowledging my existence, she continued tapping away on her phone.

Not to sound like a pervert, but it really was difficult to notice anything else in the room besides her. Telling her she was beautiful would’ve been an insult; her hair was tied back in a ponytail, tucked away from her face. With a slightly upturned nose, dazzling eyes, and fragile frame, she was like a ball of adorable sexiness.

There’s something in my stomach that just starts revving around smaller girls, and Taylor definitely fit the profile. She was just over five feet tall and dressed in a tight, low cut shirt.

Small girls have smaller chests, but it would’ve been a lie to say that hers weren’t demanding my undivided attention.

Shaking my head to pull myself just enough from the day dream, I managed to find the right words to introduce myself.

“Taylor, right?” I stuck my hand out, effectively snapping her from her absent mind.

“Me? Oh, yes.” She shook my hand and paused momentarily to remember my name. “You’re oh! You’re Remy!”

I nodded in response. We’d only met once, and it was very briefly. If I recall, her flip cup team had been looking for another person to join them when their anchor threw up.

My name was thrown into the ring as a volunteer, because Carter gets mischievous when he’s bored. Like an absolute machine, the puke guy kept playing and I returned to the party. The only thing I remember clearly about Taylor was that she was “the cute little brunette who eye fucked me.” Just another one of Carter’s clever nicknames.

We’d dropped the talk there, but she’d popped into my mind now and again.

“Remy Morris?” She raised an eyebrow, as if that would improve her chances of being right about my last name.

Since Carter was such a loud party guest, and he often got so drunk he’d need me to walk him back to our room, he’d shout my name until I helped him home. If he wasn’t such a sweetheart when he was sober, I’d quit the poor bastard.

This made Taylor the third person to think my name was Morris, due to my loud-mouth roomie convincing them that it was.

“I knew it! My roommate pointed you out when she was gushing over your roommate.” Taylor seemed enthused that she’d gotten my name right, even though she hadn’t. I made a mental note to remind her later.

“Carter?”

“That’s the one. Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. Maybe you can help evacuate me from this class before it even starts.” She was nibbling on the end of a pen, impatiently awaiting the loss of the next three hours of our lives.

“Come on, psychology is fun if you let it be.”

“Feel free to distract me with more fun any time you want.” I smiled at her bluntness, admiring how quick the response came to her.

Branches of black and blue pen scribbles encased her notebook, smothering the inside flap with twisting and arching designs that formed incredibly abstract scenes. Something clicked in her head and she immediately went to copy it to paper, hardly able to keep her hand moving as fast as her excitement.

“Those are really good.” I’d leaned in and whispered to her, mistakenly passing through the thin layer of perfume she had sprinkled on. It was like a tantalizing mixture of honeydew and fresh rain.

Our professor came bustling through the door, balancing a cup of coffee on top of the paper stacks in his arms. He made it to the table without spilling the hot drink, exhaling heavily when he reached the desk.

The lesson took off with his introduction to the course, where were treated being read the same details of the course that had already been put on the course website. After listening to our professor drone on over the same few sentences for fifteen minutes, Taylor and I were ready to collapse.

“I don’t know what it is about him, but he’s just exhausting to watch.” Taylor was careful to hide behind the two tall students in front of us, eyes still lazily aimed at the front of the room.

“It’s the arm movements.” Sure enough, as I finished my sentence our speaker treated us to another energetic display of limb waving. It was weird to watch; he’d bring both arms close to his chest then swing them out in a wide arc to drive his point home.

The two of us talked through the first half of the lecture, still failing to find new information in the eternally useless “first day”.

A fifteen minute recess was issued to the class, giving our professor time to rearrange some of his papers and outline the course agenda (again) to a group of particularly dense students.

Meanwhile, I was falling further and further into the gleaming, emerald pools Taylor had focused on me. They put me in such a trance, I thought for a moment I was going to fall victim to her hypnosis.

“Does that sound okay?”

I blinked my eyes tight, mentally resetting my brain and trying to reconnect with our lost conversation. I had to answer her, so I blurted out; “Yes!”

“Perfect, let’s go.” She got up from her seat and swung her jacket over her shoulders.

“Go?”

“To get coffee?” She sounded like she was trying to explain to a child why stealing is a bad thing, so I tried even harder to act like I knew what she was talking about.

I got up alongside her and grabbed my backpack from the floor. “I’m not sitting through another hour and a half of information I already know.”

The two of us left the classroom and pushed our way through the crowd to the coffee shop that sat situated on the second floor of the building, right near the stairs.

Spiral steps carried us to the next level and dropped us off near the small shop: William’s.

Any students staying on campus were given a key card to open our doors, combined with our meal plan card so we could buy food anywhere around the facility.

We grabbed two piping hot, brown drinks and snuck our way to a table at the back of the sprawling caf. Tables and chairs cluttered the floor space, with large windows covering an entire wall beside us. The view out of the seating area was one of the many parking lots.

For a moment before we sat down, Taylor took her time to absorb the scenery.

“You got a thing for parking lots?” I asked her, plopping myself down in the chair opposite her.

“I’ve got a thing for weather.” Solemn hints were dribbling into her speech. I decided not to push it further until she told me about it on her own. “My Grandma always liked the seasons. She said ‘people and places change in different ways, but we can count on the years to change the same.”

“Really?” I spoke in a whisper, timidly breaking the silence that hung in the air a few seconds after she stopped speaking.

“No,” She smiled at me. “My grandma never cared about the weather, but I do. Doesn’t sage wisdom sound better coming from older people?”

She was right.

“In that case, what change does winter bring?” I sipped my coffee and cursed myself for not putting in a third sugar. This place had great coffee, but it was biter as all hell.

The outside abyss had already grabbed hold of her again, sucking her from the interior of the caf. I saw what was captivating her so powerfully, and was stunned to see snow falling from the grey clouds above us.

Her mouth was turned up in a U shape, bringing a tooth peaking smile to her face.

“Love.” She interrupted my own drifting thoughts. “Winter brings love.”

“How’s that?”

Taylor tore her attraction away from the frozen, floating flakes. After swallowing a mouthful of her hot drink, she closed her eyes and numbed her smile down to a slight grin. “It’s when we’re the closest; it’s cold outside, so we stay together indoors. It has the best holidays where we see the people we love the most, and brave storms with them from the warm, safe haven of our brightly burning love.”

I’d have to be out of my mind to pull her from her fantasy now, letting her shaking hands return to their stable state until I opened my mouth.

“Are you okay?” I asked lamely.

The colour flushed back to her face and lit her up. “I’m lovely.” She reached her hand out, dangling her phone between her fingers. “Take it.”

I grabbed the phone and she told me to put my number in it. “This seems one sided, doesn’t it?”

“You don’t have to give me your number, but you aren’t getting mine until I’m convinced you aren’t a psycho.” She cocked her head at me and I had no choice but to relinquish my number to her.

“You drive a tough bargain.” As long as I played along with her game, I had a feeling it would be worth it.

“It’s saved me from more than a few severely concerning guys.” She took her phone back and tucked it into her pants, giving me her undivided attention. “Tell me about what it’s like to be Remy Morrison; from start to finish.”

If she wanted the whole story, she was going to get it. My childhood was a ruthless one, because I made it so. I was loud, energetic, and spent my free time (which was most of my day) running around and causing havoc until I was about seven.

I don’t know how my Mother put up with it, and frankly I’m not sure she knows how either.

“That’s cute, that you think you were a bad kid.” Taylor was, accidentally or not, bouncing her leg and brushing it against mine every so often. “I almost burned our house down one time.”

“You mean like…to the ground?”

“To the ground, baby.” The cocky attitude she had was infectious, and I could already feel myself growing more and more attached to it.

We swapped stories of our younger days, our families, our (hopeful) futures. Every loose fiber Taylor spun out, I connected with and latched to. We were so miraculously similar that we were riffing off each other’s jokes with uproarious laughter.

“Holy Christ, I haven’t laughed that hard in months.” We both simultaneously wiped tears from our eyes, recovering from a laugh attack brought on by our like-minded criticisms of Nicholas Cage. “You have to let it out, Taylor. You can’t cage the rage.” I chuckled, making her laugh all over again at the phrase that had sent her into stitches before. When our breathing finally slowed to normal, and our coffees ran empty, we decided to head back. There was still a flurry of white powder tumbling from the sky, slowly building up in the parking lot we cut across to reach our residence building.

“Elevator?” I asked her, reaching to tap the button marked UP.

Taylor slapped my hand away from the button, then grabbed hold of it. “No, stairs!”

Her animated movements and excited tone were hard to match. We ascended a few flights of stairs before reaching the fifth level. The walk to her room was short; only two corners away from the stairwell.

“You know you’re almost exactly below me, right?” I was busy noting the differences in d←cor between our two floors, so I hardly heard her whisper to herself; “Not yet, you aren’t.” It’s more than likely that I was imagining it with hopeful enthusiasm.

The sixth story, my floor, was movie themed, so some of the doors had posters or quotes on them. It didn’t affect us much, but it was a fun way to bring more spirit to our whole floor.

Taylor’s floor, on the other hand, looked like it was comic book themed. “Our RA’s are huge nerds, all they do is read this stuff.” She flicked a poster of Wolverine and rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows Gambit is the best X-man, anyway.”

“You read comics?” I was stunned.

“My Dad collects them, so I used to read them all when I was younger.

“Thank you for getting me home safe.” She blew me a fake kiss, feigning distress.

“It was my pleasure.”

“Listen, there’s a party going on tonight, well, today I guess, do you think you wanna swing by?” I didn’t know if she knew it, but she was biting her lower lip as she asked it. If that was her plan, to subconsciously get me to show up, then it was working like a charm.

“I’ll see what my roommate is doing, maybe we’ll come.”

“Carter.”

“Yes, Carter. Maybe he’ll like your roommate.”

“Bring him by.” She wasn’t asking anymore, her tone had remnants of a commanding nature. I knew I was going to come by, even if I had to go alone. Still, I told her to text me whenever she wanted me to show up.

On that note, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. Her number was scrawled on the crumbled sheet, all 10 digits.

“You carry these around with you?” I asked her, examining the numbers and trying to memorize them in case I lost the parchment.

“I wrote that in class just in case you turned out to be normal.”

“I’m glad I made the cut.”

She laughed, keeping the smile brought on by her infectious giggle plastered on her face. “Maybe I’ll see you tonight?”

“Maybe you will.”

We said goodbye and her door clicked behind her. I hustled back to my room, brimming with a joyful grin.

The walk up one floor to my room was a quick one; I was anxious to tell Carter about the new girl I’d just met. I burst into the room to see him and two of his friends all circled around the TV he’d set up in the corner of his room.

I recognized the two other guys as Kyle and Sam; two regulars around our dorm. When they came over they’d usually get drunk in the first fifteen minutes of being together, then spend the next four hours bashing their thumbs against their video game controllers.

Today they were occupying themselves with a game known as Halo, one of their more exciting games. I say this because when they play late at night, the paper thin walls do little to nothing to stop their voices from leaking through.

“Left side, left side, left side. Goddammit Kyle, left fucking side!” I could hear Sam yelling through the propped open door leading to Carter’s room.

“Relax, jimbo!” Kyle replied, lazily throwing explosives at the alien creatures on the screen. “I’m holdin down that left side like nobody’s business.”

Kyle and Sam were like two different sides of the same coin; both were involved in football, but their personalities couldn’t have been more different. Sam is an easy going, laid back slacker.

On the other hand, there’s Kyle. He’s nothing if not rambunctious, excitable and vulgar. His weird obsession for obscure nicknames had thrown me at first, but I eventually warmed to the creative identifiers this wordsmith invented.

They were fun to hang around, so we’d all stayed tight after frosh week was over. The two of them were in single rooms, so chances were that at any given time they’d more than likely be in our larger room.

Carter noticed me come in and smiled sheepishly, knowing what was coming next.

“You missed the whole class, man.” I punched him in the shoulder and sat beside him on a beanbag chair, cracking open one of the many beers from the cooler beside Carter. The ice had melted enough that there was a layer of water covering the can.

I’ve pointed out to him time and time again that we have a fridge in our room, but he insists every time that it’s more efficient to have his booze directly beside him in his gaming throne.

Sam handed me a controller while continuing to riddle his in-game opponents with bullets.

“Player 4 has joined!” The announcement boomed over the loud speakers hooked up to the TV.

Carter reconfigured the match so it was he and I against Kyle and Sam. “Watch that left side, Kyle.” Sam poked fun at his teammate’s intensity.

“You’re lucky I’m on your team, dude.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Four beers and three intense games later, my joints were nearly stiff enough to lock up. “I think I’m done for today, kids.” I got up and stretched my arms out. “We’ve gotta start incorporating some sort of warm up exercises or something before we do these marathons.”

“No kidding.” Carter rolled his shoulders and released a series of pops from his back. With his nearly empty beer, he walked into the kitchen to grab a new one, having depleted the resources from our cooler. “You guys hear about that floor party going on below us?”

“What about it?” I perked up at the mention of what I guessed was Taylor’s floor party.

“Nothing about it, just that it exists. I’m saying we should check it out.” He chugged a third of his beer.

“Can’t go, I promised my girlfriend I’d meet her new floor friends.” Sam groaned. We all sarcastically groaned alongside him, being met with two middle fingers.

“On a less whipped note, I’m gonna go meet up with this hot blonde I met in my statistics class.” Kyle and Sam downed the remainders of their drinks and shuffled into the hall, leaving Carter and I sitting and playing quarters at the kitchen table.

I bounced the small, shiny disc into the glass and watched it clink against the walls as it fell to the bottom. Carter sighed and drank in response, taking his turn at the game but launched his quarter off to the left. “Shit.” He cursed.

We played the game in silence for a few minutes, save for the occasional cursing from whichever one of us was on the receiving side of the punishment. Only after we’d finished our drinks did we spark up our conversation again.

“Did you hear anything else about that party?” I thought I was being sly, slipping the question in under the radar and hoping my desire to go would be unnoticed.

“Not really, just met some guy in the bathroom who said he was a friend with the guy who started it.” Carter gave up on quarters altogether, now rolling the silver circle between his fingers. “I mean, if this party is the whole floor then we absolutely have to go.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” A spark of joy ignited in my heart, rushing my urge to get downstairs.

The two of us got ready as fast as we could. I threw on a white band t-shirt, with the name Hands like Houses neatly typed across the top.

The rest of the shirt was covered with horizontal rectangular bars, fading from blue to grey, then moving to dark brown. Stamped right in the middle was, in large white letters; “un.” Standing for ‘unimagine’.

I grabbed a blue plaid shirt and headed for the door. Carter was still holed up in the bathroom trying to get his hair perfectly shaped.

“Hurry up, Barbie.” I banged on the bathroom door until he ripped it open.

“Fine! I’m done!” He threw his towel in my face and I ducked to avoid it, giving him time to run past me and out the door.

Before I could run after him to smack him in the head, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I answered it, even though I didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello? Can I help-.” My sentence was severed by a, very clearly, intoxicated girl.

“Remy! Remy! It’s Taylor!”

“Oh, hi.” I nervously responded. I never liked talking with drunk people while I’m sober, I always feel like they’re unhappy that I’m not also drunk.

“You didn’t text me.” The excitement in her voice ceased, and was replaced with a tinge of sadness.

“I thought I was supposed to wait three days?” I hoped the joke would play off well.

“I need you.”

“What?” I was stunned.

“We need you, Remy!” A female voice I didn’t recognize piped up in the background.

“That’s Carol, my roommate. We need two more for flip cup and you promised you’d come!” She was desperate, whether for me or for flip cup I didn’t care.

“We’re already on our way, give me two seconds.” I muted the phone and yelled for Carter to wait, to which he groaned in annoyance. Taylor gave me the room number and I raced to the stairwell to meet my roommate.

The floor party was already exploding with activity; everywhere I looked there were people packing the halls and sipping drinks. Different music was coming from different places on the floor. Some of it boomed from nearby rooms with open doors, the rest from speakers set up in the halls.

Some people had their doors closed, clearly trying but failing to ignore the bass thumping on their doors.

“Come on, this way.” I pulled him with me and we nudged through the crowd to the room number Taylor had given me. I knew it was killing him, having to be dragged through a sea of smoking hot girls he wanted to meet.

“Let me party, god dammit!” He struggled like a child against me grip on his shirt.

“Carter!” I shook him and snapped him out of his attitude. “I need a wingman right now, cool?”

He nodded. “Cool.”

I finally found Taylor’s room and eagerly stepped inside. There was a large gathering of people in her kitchen, four of which were stationed around the table with red cups in front of them.

Taylor saw me enter and grabbed me through the crowd, pulling Carter and me to the table. “Hey boys.” Carol cooed beside her.

The first thing I noticed about Carol was her hair; long and curly, a shade lighter than Taylor’s. She had dozens of brown freckles spotting her face, and bright green eyes that were narrowed directly at Carter.

“Hi.” Taylor mouthed to me.

“Hi.”

We positioned ourselves around the table as best we could, considering our conversation was, more often than not, being drowned out by the chanting crowd.

Carol was starting, then Carter, then Taylor, and I was the anchor.

“Three…two…one…chug!” The crowd erupted into applause as Carol downed her drink before her opponent had even finished half of his. She easily flipped her cup upside down, stepping back from the table with her hands held high.

The rest of the game went just as successfully. I flipped my empty cup into the air and landed it upside down, ending the game in our favour.

I cheered and turned to Taylor just in time for her to jump and hug me in celebration. She was hanging off my neck with her arms interlocked behind me.

My heart silenced the crowd, overtaking my ears with a racing beat that only let me hear my own thoughts. Thank god I could at least hear them, because they were all saying the exact same thing;

Kiss her, you idiot.

I tucked my arms behind her waist and pulled her to me, silencing her surprised gasp with a kiss. Her limbs seized up for a second, overcome by the surprise. I held her tighter and she relaxed, bringing her hands to rest on my head and pull gently on my hair.

We held our kiss, and each other, until we remembered there was a crowd surrounding us. She pulled away from me and I let her go, taking note of the adorable blushing she was trying to hide.

All either one of us wants to do was kiss each other again, but we held back with eye flutters and skipping hearts.

“Subtle, bro.” Carter shook his head and laughed, but I shrugged off his comment.

Taylor told me she needed some air, and Carol assured me she would take care of him. The smile on that kid’s stupid face was unmistakeable.

I walked with my flip cup co-champion down the jam-packed hallway until we reached the stairwell. Several people had taken seats on the stairs away from the loud action.

“Do you smoke?” Taylor asked me.

“Smoke what?”

“That’s the right answer.”

Just at the bottom of the steps, on the ground floor, there’s a glass door that leads outside. It’s supposed to be a fire exit but somebody disabled the alarm so we use it freely.

Stepping outside brought the realization that the cold was not something to be messed with. I hadn’t brought a jacket and the September air was nipping at my arms.

Taylor reached into her back pocket and pulled out a small red tin with a blue strips across the top. She slid it open and picked out one of the long, tan sticks.

“Those don’t smell like cigarettes.” I nodded towards the case as she put it back into her pocket.

“Quite the detective, you are.” She sparked the flame on her lighter and scorched the tip of the hand rolled joint. The end sizzled as she inhaled through the tube, simmering down when she opened her mouth and released a breath of milky, grey smoke.

I waved the cloud away and fit the joint between my lips, pulling firmly and letting the smoke replace the air in my lungs. I breathed the thick smoke from my chest and let it float into the chilly afternoon air.

We were tucked away from any roads, and anybody who walked by would be a student on their way to or from the school.

“If you want, you can crash in my room tonight.” She had taken the stick back and was punctuating her sentences with deep, heavy inhales. Wisps of smoke filtered through her teeth and snuck out of her mouth, curling up and bouncing off her nose on their way to disappear into the sky.

“You know I’m only one floor above you, right?”

“So?”

“You don’t think I can walk up one flight of stairs?”

“When I’m done with you,” Taylor stood closer to me on her toes and was almost level with my eyes, injecting a blast of smoke into my mouth. “You won’t be able to walk those steps without my help.”

With her lips only a small distance away, I was tempted to kiss her again. Something in my stomach told me to wait for a better moment and let Taylor have her fun teasing me.

“In that situation, couldn’t you just help me to my room?” I was poking at her invitation to spend the night with her, already well aware that I was going to accept it.

“I could, but I think I’d rather just force you to stay with me.” Her fingers lingered against mine as she passed me the joint, motioning for me to finish it.

My head was starting to spin from the mixture of alcohol bubbling in my stomach and the THC making its way into my blood. They were giving me a warm, buzzy feeling. I turned to Taylor and noticed her smiling aimlessly at me, losing herself in my eyes.

Or something corny like that.

I’m not going to lie, the blend of drugs and alcohol in my system was giving me a new sense of confidence. Wagering that Taylor was feeling as horny as I was, I decided to test the waters with her.

“If somebody asked you what your top three fetishes are, what would you say?” I casually asked, sliding a couple inches closer to her. She didn’t stop me, or move away, but she gave me an intrigued look.

“I would have to ask why this ‘somebody’ was asking.” She raised an eyebrow at me and stood up with a hand on her hips.

“Sheer curiosity, I assure you.” I patted her shoulder and she rolled her eyes.

“In that case, I would think it’s allowable to tell that person my answer.” She kissed me on the cheek. “As long as they tell me theirs.”

I could tell she thought she was cute, batting her eyelashes innocently. I agreed to her terms and gave her the floor.

“My top three? I like anal, I guess. And bondage, that’s up there. Only light stuff though.”

“Ever done them both together?” My interest was piquing.

“Not yet.” She didn’t make eye contact; just nursed the joint and exhaled a cloud of grey smoke. I wanted to take that as seriously as she said it, but I’d be insane to try and make a move on that alone. Then again, it could seriously pay off in my favour. “And my third one is probably cum.”

“I don’t think orgasms are a fetish.”

“No, not cumming. I mean cum. Like, YOUR cum.” I think as soon as she uttered her last sentence she caught what she’d said. “I didn’t mean yours specifically, I just meant-.”

“It’s okay, Taylor.” I smiled and cured her of her anxiousness. “What do you like about it?”

“I don’t know, the taste I guess. And the feel of it on my skin.” She extinguished the joint on the ground and blew out the last bit of smoke from it. “It’s cold as hell out here, let’s just go in.”

Like a rocket, she took off up the steps and was a floor above me before I realized what had happened.

“You don’t want to know my fetishes?” I called after her, forgetting how many people could still be in the stairwell.

“I’ll figure them out.” She yelled back, footsteps echoing around the stone walls.

When we got back inside the building, everyone had evacuated Taylor’s room. Even her roommate had left and taken Carter with her.

Like she had it prepared, Taylor rummaged through their freezer and pulled out a bottle of Grey Goose. She tilted it towards me, silently asking if I wanted any.

I made a gagging noise and she rolled her eyes. “What about Jagermeister?” She was pushing popsicles and TV dinners out of the way to get to the back of the ice box.

“Now you’re catching on.” I took the bottle from her when she handed it to me and melted the ice that had gathered around the bottle.

She took two glasses and a popsicle from the freezer, leading me into her room.

All along the wall, posters covered most of the white painted interior. Everything from band posters promoting tours, to a poster from the movie Pulp Fiction, littered the surface of everything but her ceiling and floor.

“Tarantino?” I pointed to the poster of Uma Thurman lying seductively on a bed.

“Oh, yeah my Dad got me really into him.” She was lying on her bed with two loaded glasses of Jagermeister, the popsicle wedged between her thumb and a glass.

She fed me part of her popsicle, slapping me playfully when I took a bite off the top. “Ass!” She exclaimed, met only by my evil laughter.

I took one of the cups from her, clinking it against hers. I ceased my admiration of her room in exchange for admiring her, spread out on her back with her head propped up on a pillow.

I slid up beside her and she tucked her legs up to her chest, supporting her head on my shoulder.

We sat quietly, not knowing how to start a good conversation. I could see Taylor was spaced out, so I let her lose herself.

Like she returned from a great journey, Taylor jerked to attention. “I want to travel.” She announced.

“Is that so?” I sipped my J¦ger and licked my lips in reaction to the sweet flavour.

“My cousin said I could.”

“What does that mean?” I was stroking her hair with my free hand and it was putting her in a trance.

“He said next summer he’ll get me a server job somewhere foreign.”

“Foreign?”

“Like not North America! He said you have to take a boat to get there, I think. Something about a boat.” She took a mouthful of her drink and exhaled deeply in satisfaction. “He said it’s a surprise.”

The next two hours flew by in a flash; we were abducted out of reality for 120 minutes and forgot that we were nearly strangers. Never pausing for more than a handful of seconds at a time, we learned just as much about each other as we shared of ourselves.

Maybe it was my imagination, but somehow I felt closer to Taylor than I’d felt to anybody in a long time. Watching her smile when I made a joke, whether it was funny or not, was causing me to slowly fall her, whether I knew it or not.

All the drinking had gotten us to share some pretty intimate things, but I had a feeling I wasn’t regretting any of it.

“I only kissed one, though!” Taylor cried sucking down the last few drops from her drink.

“One girl is one girl, Tay.” I’d started calling her by the shorter pet name and she seemed to like it, brightening up every time I addressed her.

“You try going to an all-girl summer camp, it’s boring as hell!”

By now, she was curled up in the crook of my arm and resting her head on my tediously rising and falling chest.

After we finished what remained of the dark brown, licorice flavoured drink, we did our best to walk out into the hall.

The party had certainly calmed down, but was still alive with bumping music and drunk, occasionally half dressed, students.

“I want to find my friend.” Taylor was balancing herself on my shoulder as we stood in her doorway and examined the party layout. “That way.”

She pointed to the end of the hall, where a mass of girls were standing in a cluster and laughing in a shrill pitch. Taylor held my hand and stood as close to me as she could, trying her best to stay vertical. “They look nice. Wait, I know them!”

“Come on, drunky.” I rubbed Taylor’s back and walked with her to the end of the hall, stopping just short of the gang of girls.

I greeted them and asked if they’d seen Carol or Carter.

“The pretty guy with the blonde flow?” Referring to her long and flowing hair, two of the girls cooed and fanned themselves jokingly, making Taylor giggle quietly.

“Yes, him. Was he with anybody?” I asked impatiently.

“Carol was with him, yeah.” One of the girl responded.

They explained that they’d both gone to find a quiet place to hang out, and I know immediately that Carter had taken her back to his, or our, room.

“I guess now I have to stay in your room.” I swung our arms as I talked, walking us back to Taylor’s room.

“Why’s that?” She had her arm tightly connected to my waist, fearful of letting me go.

“Carter is loud when he…you know.”

“You poor thing.”

Finally back in Taylor’s residence, I was starting to feel a tingling sensation in my balls. I knew I was horny, and I knew Taylor was a knockout if I’d ever seen one.

I started cleaning up the cups left scattered around the kitchen from people during the flip cup game. The drinks were gathered around the sink, and I was pouring them inside.

While I had been cleaning the mess, Taylor had changed into pajamas. The door to the hallway was closed, but we could hear the music playing outside and people chanting “keg stand, keg stand, keg stand.”

When she emerged from her bedroom, her pajamas grabbed my attention and didn’t let it wander. A pink drop top with spaghetti straps that cut off just above her belly button, and a pair of pink cotton shorts with the word “yummy” written on the back in white cursive.

“Don’t wash those, I’ll get them tomorrow.” Taylor reached her hand out for the cup I was pouring out but I jerked it away, spilling the drink over the front of my shirt.

“Shit!” I cursed, pulling the shirt away from me so the wet part wouldn’t touch my stomach.

Taylor apologized over and over again as I scrambled to pull the shirt over my head. I didn’t even know what was in the drink I’d spilt on me, but it smelt like nail polish remover mixed with watermelon.

“Great, now I’m shirtless. Lucky you.” I grumbled, walking to her bedroom and flopping down onto the bed. She sashayed in through the door and stood at the foot of the bed with her hands on her bubble butt.

“Something wrong, muffin?” She blinked her big doe eyes in slow, deliberate strokes.

“I just don’t think we’re very fairly dressed.” I folded my hands behind my head and gave her an expectant look.

She crawled up from the foot of the bed and hovered over top of me, keeping her chest a few inches above mine. “Is there some way we could fix that?”

Her words were slurring slightly, either from her anxiety or her intoxication I don’t know. Either way, she was slowly causing the blood to flood away from my brain. Even with the mixing her speech was doing, her words were sharp enough to send jolts of electricity through my legs.

Without exchanging any further words about the topic, we both knew we were already headed down a path we couldn’t stop ourselves from turning down.

Taylor kept her body suspended above me, her tiny frame shaking with nerves. She was biting her lip in anticipation, gazing intently into my eyes as I lifted her shirt up, starting at her tummy and tugging the garment up over her supple breasts.

Her sharp intake of breath told me I was doing something right, so I continued lifting her shirt until it was bunched up under her chin. I maneuvered her arms through the arm holes and pulled her pink top all the way from her body.

Instantly, my hands wandered to the small of her back and ran their way up towards her shoulders. I curved my hands around her side and cupped her perky tits, pinching her nipples between my knuckles.

I was holding her up by her chest, making the soft flesh squish out to the sides like a pancake. Her hands were busy fumbling with my belt, finally unbuckling it and prying my jeans open. The zipper and button were quickly dispatched, not proving much of a match for Taylor’s skilled hands.

With a frown, she made me relinquish my grasp on her breasts as she sat up to shimmy my pants down past my ankles. I was finally getting an uncensored look at her chest, and what I saw sucked the breath from my lungs.

She had an elegant curve to her body that made the erection in my boxers flinch.

Only our underwear was separating us now, but that wasn’t stopping her from grinding down as hard as he could on my throbbing pole, digging me against her clit. She was using me to send waves of pleasure through her, and I didn’t mind being her toy.

I held her cheek and pulled her face to mind, kissing her as I maneuvered my hands to her ass, taking a grip of the squishy, bouncy globes. Her pajama bottoms rolled off her juicy butt with my fingers tucked in her waistband, exposing her bottom to the air.

Our hands were a tangled mess as we fought to be the last one wearing pants, but both ended up losing our last remaining clothing anyway.

We tumbled around the bed, rolling over so I was on top of Taylor. I kissed her and slipped my tongue over hers, jousting with her slimy, pink snake.

The tip of my cock was nudged against Taylor’s sticky opening, impatiently awaiting to explore the moist, warm tunnel it was poking at.

She reached down and took a hold of my dick, dragging the purple head through her soaking wet slit and gathering a shiny layer of syrup over the bulbous head.

“Fuck, Remy.” She whimpered, making sure to pay extra attention to her clit as she dragged my boner through her puffy lips.

I couldn’t hold back my lust any longer, and I knew I had to make Taylor mine. When I felt the overwhelming warmth emitting from her pussy, I jabbed forward and sunk the first four inches of my cock into the skinny girl’s glistening peach.

I didn’t even have to tell her to lift her legs up to my shoulders; she was already mid-way through arranging her feet so they sat positioned atop my shoulders. The first half of my dick was jammed into Taylor already, and she gave me a reassuring nod to continue feeding her the rest.

Juices were freely flowing from her drenched tunnel, making it that much easier for me to fill Taylor’s pink pussy until my balls were kissing her asshole. I made a mental note to some back to her tight, puckered butthole, but for now I was focusing on drilling her hard enough to rock her bedframe back and forth.

She squealed every time I bottomed out, tightening her muscles as my cock head brushed against the wall of her cervix.

“Nobody has ever…oh Jesus, Remy…gone that deep before.” I knew she was telling the truth; the tightness constricting my raging hard on was so prominent that it must’ve been untouched territory. She was being fucked so deep, and tightening so intensely in response, that it felt like taking her virginity for the first time.

I eased my pole out of her clenching depths and felt the walls of her kitten sticking to me, begging me not to leave. As I withdrew my cock, I lowered my hips so when I buried myself back in her creamy pocket I would grind against her g-spot.

The sensations were controlling her movements, driving her reaction to every small action I made. She moved naturally in tune with my body, squirming below me and playing with her breasts.

As I pounded her harder, the grip she had on her nipples grew more vice-like. Her fingers tugged roughly at the hard, pink nubs, working on autopilot so her brain could switch off for a minute.

Little gasps were escaping her, getting more desperate and high pitched the faster I slammed my hips against her ass, making the thick flesh jiggle in a mesmerizing fashion.

Her pussy was slippery with her gushing honey, signaling her enjoyment of having her hole punished. With her hands on my shoulders, nails digging into my skin, I bounced her using the bed to get my cock to smash against her cervix.

Before long, Taylor had her eyes closed and was losing her mind to an infinite loop of pleasure. It took a while before she gathered the energy to suggest a different position, to which I happily accepted.

Sliding disappointingly from her dripping glove, both of us audibly resisted the effort with disgruntled groans.

We were quick to switch our positioning, putting me on my back and letting Taylor climb on top. She scrambled to get settled and grabbed a hold of my shaft, directing the syrup coated member back to the opening of her empty well.

With a deep breath, Taylor lowered her hips and swallowed the head of my dick to let her muffin prepare to be stretched again.

Her hands were riveted to my chest, pushing down with her hands as she dropped her ass into my lap. Like daggers, her nails were burning my chest with their grip. The pain shooting through me was intermingling with the hot, steamy suction keeping my cock captive in Taylor’s pussy.

Like warm butter, her wetness was spreading to cover my balls. I’d been with other girls before, but nobody like Taylor. Having sex with her showed me that whatever I’d been doing with other girls was just practice.

It was like she opened a door of realization in my mind, and all of a sudden I knew I had to make Taylor mine.

Right now, though, I was focusing on the feeling of having the bell shaped head of my cock pressed forcefully against my cowgirl’s cervix. She was bearing down with all her force, stirring her creamy insides with my dong.

Taylor dragged her tits against my chest, tracing little figure eights with her nipples as she raised and lowered her hips. She would drop all the way to the hilt, embracing every inch of my cock and savouring the moment of fullness she felt.

Then, she would lift her ass until only a few inches were left hugging the walls of her vagina. With vigour she would slam her hips down and repeat the process over again, tiring herself out after six minutes of furious riding.

Once she slowed her grinding to a near halt, I knew she was running low on steam. I took charge and picked her up, propping her on her hands and knees.

It was a welcome change for us both, and we soon fell back into the same familiar motions as before. Taylor had her head back, encouraging me to take a handful of her hair and tug it while I pummeled her. Ripples like shockwaves rocked her ass cheeks as she bounced her bum back against me every time I pushed forward to meet her.

The result was like a jack hammer firing a piston into her pussy, deeply embedding my veiny cock in a velvety heaven. Slick and spongy walls massaged the length of my shaft, drawing the cum from my balls at an alarming rate.

My hands rested on Taylor’s bum, holding the swaying backside and prying her cheeks apart. Her tiny, pink asshole winked at me, begging for the attention I was so viciously showing her pussy.

With her butt spread it was impossible for me to resist pushing against the tight ring with my thumb. I spat down onto her asshole and used my thumb to massage the sticky lube around her hole. Taylor was loving it; moaning with her eyes closed and drawing short, spastic breaths.

Past the point of no return, my thumb slid in up to the knuckle and sat comfortably in the clenching oven. Once I felt her relax her muscles, I forced the rest of my thumb into her ass and curled my finger, pulling back and pushing along the walls of her ass.

My finger popped from her butt and she squealed, wagging her behind to ask for more.

I dribbled more spit onto her slightly agape hole, watching some of the bubbles sink into her bum. Knowing she was already stretched gave me the idea to continue my work on her bottom.

Loosening her was becoming a fun task, especially when I got to watch her take my first and middle finger into her ass. Like with my thumb, I curled my fingers and dragged them across the insides of Taylor’s vulnerable little ass.

I wanted to fuck Taylor forever, or at least until she was too sore to handle it. If we kept up this pace, I was going to pop any minute.

Down on the floor, I saw a tangled mess of clothes. In the bundle, I saw a scarf sticking out. A thousand ideas flew through my head, but I went with the best one.

I grabbed her hands and she slumped onto the bed face first, luckily landing on a pillow to absorb the blow. “What are you doing?” She whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over her own ragged breathing.

One tight knot locked her hands together, preventing her from fighting back. Not that she would have anyway, but having her hands locked behind her sure as hell would’ve made it difficult to stop me from entering her ass, if she wanted to.

My cock lodged its bloated head against Taylor’s gaping tunnel. She inched forward when she felt me make contact with her rear hole, fighting her instinct to resist and easing back so I slowly sunk all the way to the root in her ass.

“Holy shit, Tay.” I groaned.

Her whimpers were growing louder and louder, to the point where I was sure somebody would hear her. I grabbed a pair of leggings that were dangling from the side of the bed and wrapped them around her head, cutting the light away from her eyes.

My balls were slapping against her cunt, gathering her heavily dripping juices over the meaty orbs.

Through all of this, Taylor was continually impaling herself on the rock hard pole she had molded to. Every fiber of my being was tingling from the spark igniting between me and the blindfolded girl with her face buried in a pillow, getting her ass rammed from behind.

Every now and then she would pipe up with a comment, asking me to go faster or more gentle. I tried to abide by her requests, but the steamy, hot oven my cock was residing in was too tempting for me to go slowly.

All the muscles in her rectum were fighting against me, trying to push me out. They only succeeded in making it feel like I was driving my cock into a pocket of frothy, buttery butt juices.

There wasn’t much time left until I knew I’d be emptying my balls into Taylor’s eager asshole, but I held back for as long as I possibly could. It seemed like she was desperate to milk the cum from me, clenching around the large intruder that was abusing her ass beyond comparison.

Her hips went in circles, swallowing my cock into her bum until she swore she was going to burst. “My-oh, fuck. My tummy. I can feel you…” She took a sharp breath. “In my tummy.”

Nothing would’ve motivated me more, and what she said gave me all the motivation I needed to sink my boner as far into her ass, with cheeks spread wide apart, as she could take me.

That was enough to send her over the edge completely. Taylor seized up and dumped her exclamations of “oh god” into the pillow, no longer slamming her hips against me. I took the opportunity to give her an orgasm that she’d remember.

My dick was a blur sliding in and out of her tired asshole, ponding deep into her guts as I felt her insides convulsing and vibrating. I’d never seen a girl cum from anal, and didn’t even think it was possible until I saw Taylor reduced to a pile of whines and squeaks with a cock in her behind.

The tsunami of her orgasm was subsiding slowly but surely, so I slowed my strokes accordingly.

When I reached the hilt, tapping the tip of my penis against the untouched, creamy center of Taylor’s core, I knew I only had a few strokes until I doused her insides with semen.

I nearly came while I struggled to untie her hands from their shackles, pulling off the blindfold so she would gather her bearings.

Quickly, I withdrew my pipe and stood on the floor by her bed, helping her onto her knees. I could feel her shaking when she tried to stand, so I held her weight as she lowered onto her knees and opened her lips, greedily begging for my meat in her mouth.

I inched forward and touched the tip of my rod to her lower lip, waiting while she gathered the courage to taste her ass. Her nose scrunched up as she ran her tongue around my purple, bloated crown. The scrunching vanished from her face as she got the first few inches into her mouth.

Based on the look she gave me, she didn’t seem to mind it. In fact, she seemed to look embarrassed that she didn’t hate it.

That didn’t hold her back as she began slipping and sliding her tongue around the bulbous head of my prick. Her hands were carefully massaging my balls, playing gently with the smooth stones. Her other hand was ferociously rubbing against her clit, occasionally dipping into her peach’s nectar to spread on my shaft so she could lick it off.

Long, tender strokes of her tongue cascaded up the length of my cock, tickling the underside with little flicks and kisses. She nibbled on the sides, circling her hand like a blender around my shiny helmet, slick with spit and juices.

I knew I wouldn’t last long in Taylor’s mouth if she kept using it like such an expert.

She’d taken it upon herself to try and take every last bit of me into her eager, hungry throat. Unfortunately, she only made it half way before she started drooling a little.

Wiping away the saliva and continuing her bobbing motion, Taylor proved she was a natural born cock-sucker. Nothing was getting in her way, nothing could stop her from gagging herself on the throbbing erection she’d lathered with her spit.

Taylor was giving me the warmest, wettest mouth hug I’d ever received. The insides of her throat were as smooth as polished glass, but they gave way whenever my dick suck its way to the base with my balls resting on her chin.

I told her I was close and she nodded with enthusiasm, wiping away a tear from her eye from deepthroating me. “Paint me.” She winked, speeding up the invigorating massage her hand was giving me.

I couldn’t have stopped myself if I wanted to.

Tilting her head back and closing her eyes gave Taylor an incredibly sexy look. They stayed closed as the first stream of cum erupted from my dick, ejecting like a cannon and taking her by surprise.

The jet of warm baby batter landed mostly in her mouth, with only a few drops spilling onto her lips. I saw her smile graciously, awaiting the rest of my load.

Like clockwork, the second and third ropes came out almost simultaneously. One stretched up across her nose, and the other pooled around her left eye. Like a trooper, she endured the next three bursts everywhere from her forehead to her cheeks.

Enough cum was dribbling down her face that a few drops were starting to leak into her mouth. She licked her lips and tasted as much of the sticky honey as she could reach.

Time froze as I took a mental image of Taylor on her knees, naked with a face full of warm, pearly semen.

“Bathroom?” She asked, wiping a gob from her eye.

Without waiting for a reply, she took off and left me sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Should I go?” I yelled for her after she’d been gone for a few minutes. I heard lights being turned off and the recognizable sound of bare feet on a tile floor.

Taylor appeared in the doorway, still naked, with a sparkling clean face.

I mustered a fake groan. “You wiped it off? That was a gift, Tay.”

She laughed and sat on me, facing me and sitting on my knees. “Don’t worry, most of it ended up in my stomach anyway.”

I poked her sides and she rolled off me, giggling manically until I stifled her with a kiss.

We lay silently for a while, tired and drunk. I basked in the feeling of having felt truly relieved for the first time in my life. Whatever I had to do to keep this girl around, I was going to do. Few things could have possibly made her more incredible.

“Remy?” She squeaked beside me.

“Yes?” I asked, taking her hand and squeezing it.

“Can we go drink now? I know we can shave our time down if Carol anchors for us and you start. These douchey bastards from down the hall need their asses handed to them.” She looked at me hopefully.

Well, that’ll sure as hell do it.

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