Author’s Note: Just want to say thanks for all the comments on my last story, glad so many people enjoyed it! Hope this one is just as enjoyable.
I heard them giggling and whispering under the sheets, trying and failing to keep their voices down. She was teasing Dillon again, getting him worked up for no good reason other than to send him home frustrated. I wasn’t exactly sure what they said under the sheets; their voices were muffled. But a glance informed me that Keira was in her usual position: lying on top of Dillon, straddling his crotch, and seeming to rock and back forth on it while whispering what I can only imagine to be dirty talk into his ear.
I turned away from their little tryst, and tried to get back to studying. The poor bastard. It was difficult to ignore what she was doing to Dillon; our dorm was the size of a luxury prison cell, and our beds were probably barely more than ten feet apart. I was trying to read a book on physics – I desperately wanted to keep up my A average. I tried to remind myself of my goal of being a head researcher at John Hopkins one day. But my attention kept slipping back to Keira’s steady grinding, and Dillon’s squirming.
Any minute, she’d say, loud enough for me to hear, “Ok, that’s enough. Let’s stop before we lose control.” And that would be it.
Dillon would frantically whisper, “No, no, come on!” But Keira would get off of him no matter what. Dillon would try to coax her. Nope. He would get angry. Nothing. Then, inevitably, trying to keep his voice really low so I wouldn’t hear it, he’d beg. And Keira would always giggle and say, “No! Not while Clara is in the room.”
I think for her, that was the whole point of this exercise. Making Dillon, the football jock star, beg her for nothing more than to keep grinding on his dick. Not sex. Not a blowjob. Not even a handy. Just dry-humping.
And every time, deflated, frustrated, and with a wet patch on the crotch of his jeans (her wetness? his precum?) Dillon would leave the dorm, taking care to slam the door on his way out. This had been going on at least three or four times a week since Keira and I had moved in four weeks ago at the start of term.
I knew college was going to be a hotbed of lust and parties and experimentation. But I didn’t expect to have a roommate so experienced in sexual manipulation. She teased Dillon incessantly, in careful smart ways like a predator breaking down her prey.
She bragged about sexting him after she sent him home blue-balled, telling him how much she wished he would fuck her brains out. She sent racy pics, deviously clever ones that only showed the barest hint up her skirt, maybe a little cleavage, never the whole thing. Keira was curvy, tanned skin – Hispanic I think, though I never asked. She knew how to use her body well, and Dillon was utterly crazy about her after only a month of dating. Despite what I thought of Keira torturing Dillon, I had to admire her tactics. I couldn’t say I had the same control over my boyfriend.
I thought I was pretty sexually experienced by that point in my life. Like many eighteen year olds, I thought that my long term relationship from high school had shown me all the wonders sex had to offer. His name was Tom, and we were very much in love despite being separated by three thousand miles. He was going to school in Columbia, while I was at USC. We had sex, both of us for the first time, when we were seventeen. And of course it started off painful and disappointing, but it gradually evolved into passionate love-making (at least, that’s what we called it) and a little experimenting. By the end of a year, I thought I had my body and sexuality all figured out.
Tom and I texted each other throughout the day, and had Skype sessions three times a week. I tried to make them sexy; I’d talk to him fresh out of the shower wearing only a towel, or I’d flash him a quick peek at my tits or panties. But I could sense a growing lack of enthusiasm from him. Tom was athletic, very cute and, worst of all, smart and competitive. He was pre-Med and played rugby. I wasn’t the jealous type, but the thoughts entered my head without much prompting. He’s seeing someone else, he just doesn’t want to hurt your feelings by dumping you, etc.
I didn’t have low self-esteem until this long distance relationship. I liked my features; I had chestnut brown hair, I kept myself well in shape, and I think I have a pretty face. Well, maybe a sharp nose. And maybe my eyes were pretty dull. And maybe my face wasn’t pretty at all, it was generic and forgettable. Ugly thoughts tumbled into my head uninvited.
But the truth was, as much as I worried over some pretty slut throwing herself at Tom during a party or something, what really made me feel so insecure was my total lack of control over Tom. He had always been in charge. He could make any demand he wanted. I liked pleasing him, and thought that if I continued to do it, he’d never look at anyone else. Instead, I discovered that that had made me boring, and too available. I didn’t bring any of this şişli escort up with Tom; he was stressing over his tough classes and the last thing I wanted was to burden him with my petty jealousy.
But inwardly, I wished I could control his fantasies the way Keira controlled Dillon’s.
Speaking of control, Dillon was beginning to grunt. She had let this week’s session go a little longer than usual. Again, I looked away from my physics book. She was grinding on him hard fast, whispering a steady stream of dirty talk I couldn’t make out. His hands were all over her ass.
I hadn’t paid too close attention to their previous interactions. Usually, I put in my headphones, and busied myself with studying. But this prolonged session sparked my curiosity. She seemed to be inviting him to go further and further. I was trying to tell myself I was only curious to learn about her tactics, but inwardly, I wondered how far she would take this.
I saw the figure that was Keira move up Dillon’s body, until her chest was level with his head. There was a rustling sound from under the covers.
“Suck it,” I heard Keira whisper, more clearly than ever before.
I stifled a gasp as I heard a soft sucking noise. Dillon was sucking her nipple! She had never gone this far before, at least not with me in the room. The thought gave me a thrill somewhere in my stomach. Again, I told myself this was purely for research purposes – something I could use on Tom later. But I didn’t realize I was holding my breath, my physics book totally forgotten, my full attention on my roommate and her boyfriend.
“Oh yeah, suck it hard,” Keira whispered. “Bite it.”
My eyes widened. So this was the dirty talk she was usually whispering out of earshot? She sounded really turned on, her breath coming out in gasps, but what she said next made it clear she was in total control.
“Oh that’s a good boy. Bite that nipple. Suck it raw.”
I could hear Dillon’s breath getting quicker and heavier, too. She was driving him crazy, just by getting him to pleasure her. She kept calling him a good boy, while he loudly sucked her nipple, like he was a puppy. She was grinding on him harder than ever.
Then, suddenly, she shoved him down. “You want a reward?” she asked, still out of breath.
I could tell Dillon was nodding furiously under the sheets.
Keira slid further down his body, until her head was at his crotch. There was metal clink as his belt was undone, and the unmistakable noise of a zipper being pulled down. My heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t going to – not in front of me. Was she?
“Is this what you want me to play with?” she asked in a teasing voice. I couldn’t see what she was doing under the covers, but I could guess she had pulled his dick out.
“Yes,” Dillon gasped. His hands went to her head.
“Keep your hands down,” she ordered. Dillon’s hands snapped back to his sides.
Then – kissing noises. Very light kissing. My eyes widened. She was kissing his dick! From the slight movements of her head, she seemed to be kissing it all over, in no particular hurry.
It was time to be honest with myself. This was really turning me on. I could feel myself getting wet, just listening to Keira tease him. There was the naughty element of voyeurism, though I felt a twinge of guilt as I wondered if this bordered on being unfaithful. Would I be ok with Tom listening to someone like this? The thought didn’t stay too long in my head before I rationalized that I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I was only listening. This is what I told myself as I found myself wondering just how big Dillon was.
I could tell she was slowly stroking him, while kissing his shaft up and down. I could also tell by the sound that her lips were barely touching his dick. But Dillon was groaning loudly now, and starting to thrust his hips.
Keira giggled softly. “This big dick looks ready to burst, doesn’t it?” She went back to kissing it.
She was painting pictures in my head, and it was driving me crazy. I sighed, and let my hand wander down my shirt. It was late, and I was ready for bed, so I wasn’t wearing a bra. I let my fingers drift in between my breasts, watching my nipples stiffen under my shirt without even touching them.
Dillon’s hands went back to Keira’s head. “Suck it,” he said roughly, losing patience.
Keira stopped, and slapped his hands away. “Behave, big boy, or I’m done.”
“Please, baby, I’m close.”
Keira laughed again. “Oh, no. You’re not cumming. You’ll ruin my sheets!”
Dillon almost sat up in outrage. “Babe! Please! You can’t keep doing this to me!”
Keira just went back to kissing his dick. “You want me to stop? Is that it?”
God, I had to hand it to this girl. She was cold as hell. Total control, pure manipulation. I wondered if I could ever do something like this to Tom. I let my fingers glide over one nipple, making me gasp. I was letting myself go a little too far, but I couldn’t see that yet.
Dillon sank back into the bed, struggling to keep his voice mecdiyeköy escort even and calm. “No I don’t want you stop. I just want to cum.”
I could tell she was kissing the tip of his dick now, lightly, slowly. “But what if I don’t want you to? What if I like you all pent up and frustrated?”
I was positively squirming now, just like Dillon, as my aroused brain weighed the idea of touching myself discreetly under the covers. For the first time, it struck me that Keira had to know I was listening. Dillon could care less, he just wanted to cum, but Keira had to be aware that the noises they were making were impossible to ignore. Did she want me to listen in?
Dillon slammed his fist against the mattress. “I can’t take it anymore, babe! Please!”
“What was that?” She still didn’t sound in any particular rush, the kisses still slow and light, not heeding the desperation in Dillon’s voice.
“Come on! You heard me!”
“Beg.” The word hung in the air, and there was a brief silence save for the steady stream of kisses. I struggled to keep my own breathing under control, lest I give away my own arousal.
“Please,” said Dillon, in a calm, polite voice.
“That’s not begging,” she whispered in between kisses. I could tell by her head that she was focusing her kisses relentlessly on the tip of his dick. “I can stop.”
I couldn’t take the teasing anymore. Her dominance was turning me on. I put a hand under my shirt and began to flick my nipple. I wasn’t sure how far I was going to go, but I couldn’t ignore my body’s needs anymore. My other hand slid down my tummy and landed at the waistband of panties. I yanked my panties up into me for brief second, before pulling them down. I spread my legs, and did nothing else, just worked my nipple and let the anticipation build up. I let out shuddering breaths as my nipple grew stiff under my fingers.
“Please,” Dillon gasped out. I wondered if I could make Tom beg like that.
Soft chuckle. “I don’t think you really want it.”
“PLEASE!” Dillon yelled.
“Good boy,” Keira whispered before I saw her head sink down on his crotch. She had just forced his big dick into her mouth and seemed to be working it into her throat.
My fingers found my wet pussy, my clit already swollen and desperate for stimulation. I stroked my clit as I listened to my roommate deepthroat her boyfriend, choking and slurping on his dick. I found myself wondering if I could deepthroat – I’d never tried before. Dillon gasped, and thrust hard, but Keira seemed to welcome it, meeting his thrusts by bobbing her head up and down on his shaft until –
Dillon came hard. I could hear her swallowing his load, and the depravity of it sent me into a whimpering orgasm that I muffled with my sheets pressed against my mouth.
Dillon collapsed into loud panting breaths. I moved my sticky fingers away from my cunt, trying to get my own breath back.
When I looked over again, Keira had lifted herself out of the covers. Dillon was staring at the ceiling, his arms splayed out like he was out cold. He was indeed very big, though his cock was slowly becoming flaccid again. Keira looked at me, saw my red, sweaty face and grinned.
She blew me a kiss. I rolled over in my bed, and drew the covers over my head.
We didn’t discuss the Dillon incident later. After he left, I pretended to be asleep the whole night, despite not getting a hint of actual rest. The next day, Keira went to class like nothing had happened, while I laid in bed and turned the previous night’s events over and over in my head.
What fucked with me the most were the questions I was too afraid to answer: What had really turned me on last night? Dillon? The situation? Or Keira? All three? I forced these questions out of my head, and got ready for class.
I told my good friend Valerie – I think everyone called her Val, though – about what had happened after physics class. I had to tell someone and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Tom. Val was the total opposite of me. She was tall, an athlete – track – and totally confident. She had pale skin and lovely long black hair. We had met earlier that semester and instantly clicked.
She listened to the story without much expression, as we walked from the science building to the humanities auditorium. Her reaction was underwhelming. I expected shock or at the very least surprise. But she just calmly said, “So she just started blowing him with you in the room. What did you do?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “I mean, what could I do? Interrupt them?”
She shrugged. “You could have, I guess. But you’re not a very assertive person.”
I stopped. “Seriously? You think so?”
Val nodded casually. “I can’t see you going over and yanking the covers off their sweaty bodies and saying, ‘Knock it off, you horny fucks!'”
I supposed she had a point. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have done that. I should have though.” I hung my head a little.
Val laughed and punched my shoulder playfully. “Relax. Every cog has its proper place. I’m sure there’s a tiger in there somewhere.”
“They were so loud, though. I couldn’t ignore them at all.”
“Maybe that was the point. Maybe she wanted you to listen in.”
Of course, I already knew that considering Keira’s little kiss afterward. But I didn’t know what it meant. “Why would she do that?”
Val shrugged. “To tease you a little. Wasn’t it hot, listening to her choke on his dick? Isn’t that kind of naughty and fun?” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.
I shook my head, even though I felt a slight thrill at her blunt assessment of what happened. I tried to seem just as laid back as her. “I thought it was kind of weird. I mean, I have a boyfriend. What would he think about all this?”
Val rolled her eyes. “Oh please. There’s nothing for him to get mad about. It’s just like watching porn, except a little more in person. I mean, it’s not like you joined in, right?” She looked at me searchingly.
Was fingering myself while watching them considered joining in? “No, of course not.”
“Then don’t sweat it.” Val smiled and we continued our walk under the shade of trees. It was a beautiful day, with a clear blue sky and birds chirping. No reason to torture myself and feel guilty. Besides, Kiara had never done something like this before. I doubted she’d do it again. They just got carried away. That was all.
That night I tried to be more dominant with Tom when we Skyped.
I told him to take his dick out and start jerking it for me. His roommate was there, engrossed in his studies, not paying attention to us. And of course, Tom had on headphones, so only he could hear my instructions.
But Tom just gave me an amused look and shook his head.
“Why not?” I said, sounding more petulant than I intended. My voice didn’t carry the same clear confidence as Keira’s voice did.
He lifted up his phone and typed something. A second later my phone buzzed. Tom’s text read: I’m not jerking off with my roommate right behind me.
I sent back: Oh come on, you’re doing it for me!
He replied: It’s too weird. It’s not a turn on when there’s another guy around.
I pouted and sent: You’re no fun.
The rest of the conversation was uneventful. Dull, even. He complained about classes, asked me very little, and kept studying throughout the Skype session. When it was over, he said goodnight without the usual exchange of I love you’s.
I was grateful that Keira didn’t come to the room that night, so I could cry in peace.
Over the next week, it appeared as though Keira and Dillon had moved their activities to his room. We only saw each other briefly in the mornings when we both got ready for classes, and things were cordial, even friendly between us. We never had a chance to get into what had happened, which suited me just fine, as I had no idea what I could even say about it. Nights were spent alone, which did make me feel a little lonely, because Tom started to take longer and longer to reply to my texts.
By the end of the week, the inevitable had happened. Tom dumped me, and said he had met someone else. Another pre-Med student. Pretty. Athletic. She seemed to come from a rich family, from what I could gather off Instagram, scrolling through her stunning pictures while letting tears stream freely down my face. Tom said he had been unhappy for a long time, and that the long distance was just too big a hurdle to climb. I suppose I should’ve been grateful for the timing; he’d dropped the news while I was researching flights to Manhattan to surprise him. At least I saved a pretty penny, or that’s what I told myself anyway.
I was crying into a pillow when Keira entered. I didn’t look up, and was too heart-broken to hide what I was doing.
“Oh no,” said Keira. “Did Tom dump you?”
I nodded into my pillow, and cried harder. I felt Keira sit on the bed next to me, and put a hand on my back. “I recognize those tears. That’s heartbreak. I’m sorry, Clara.”
And that’s how we stayed for the next hour – me weeping into my pillow, Keira rubbing my back, and eventually, somewhere in there, I fell asleep.
It would take me a whole week to see the beauty of spring all around us again. Keira was instrumental to this time, talking me through it and introducing me to pot which I’d never tried before. We smoked in our dorm, since despite the rules against it, since no one was really going to make us stop. I was getting my smile back and it wasn’t just because of the weed. Keira was a fun person to talk to. It was during one of these smoking sessions that Keira finally broached the subject we’d been avoiding for two weeks now. We were sitting on her bed, passing a joint back and forth.
“So now that you’re free woman, you can be honest… how’d you like that show I put on with Dillon?” She took a big hit from the joint and passed it to me.
I took it and puffed a little, taking care to calm the thrill that went through me. One thing I had discovered about myself since using pot: it made me really horny. I giggled, and tried to keep my thoughts straight. “That was a show for me?” I passed the joint back.