Dorm Room Buds Pt. 01


I’ve known Greg for about three years: we met when dorm assignments were first made and we got roomed together. Thankfully we got along right off the bat, and we ended up finding a place off-campus with a couple of friends the next year before we got ourselves a two bedroom place with Greg’s girlfriend, Melissa, this year. The two of them hooked up a couple of times in Freshman year and stayed friendly through the rest of the year. But the first time the two of them saw each other again after that first summer apart? Shit, man – sparks flew. They’ve been totally inseparable ever since.

And recently that’s kinda what I’d been worrying about: Melissa landed one of those “semester abroad” things, and headed off to Paris for four months. Greg seemed pretty psyched for her when he told me about it initially, but she’d only been gone for a week before I could start to see it eating him up a bit. I mean, who wouldn’t worry? She’s 21, slim and tight-bodied with an ass to die for (Greg’s words, not mine – though I wouldn’t exactly disagree with him on it) and – given how often I hear her and Greg going at it through the wall – she’s got a fairly healthy sexual appetite to keep sated. I know Greg loves her way too much to ever cheat on her, but Melissa? I mean, I don’t want to say I think she would, but when you look as good as she does and there’s a city full of suave European motherfuckers laying it on smooth with their fancy accents… Let’s just say I’m trying to be a good friend to Greg this semester in case he has heartbreak to deal with at the end of it.

A couple of days ago he got back from his early morning class while I was still eating cereal and watching cartoons in my underwear. Neither of us had anywhere to be until a friend’s DJ set at 11 that evening, so we’d planned a day of toking up and playing Xbox. Sure, I could’ve been working on my Organic Chem assignment, but Greg had seemed extra down the past couple of days and the class is nothing I can’t handle with a cram session the night before the midterm, so I’d agreed. I was expecting a fairly low-key day, mostly with me trying to cheer him up, but he threw me totally off when he bounded in the door like a puppy. He tossed his backpack in the corner and leapt onto the couch next to me.

“What the hell, man?! I nearly spilled my fucking Cheerios!” I yelled at him.

He just waved me off in response and pulled his phone out his pocket.

“You ready for this?” he asked.

“For what?”

He tapped his finger to the screen and held it there, opening a side-on snap of Melissa standing nude, her hand carefully held to cover her nipple with a coy smile on her face. I was shocked to the point where I couldn’t even think straight to say anything until the 5 second timer on the photo ran out.

“Dude! Ga- Wha-” I spluttered.

He looked up at me from the message he was typing back to her, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“Hot as fuck, right?” he said, his smile still stretching from ear-to-ear.

“Well… fuck, yeah – obviously. But that’s not cool, man: that kinda shit’s meant to be private.”

I felt weird even having to say this to him: Greg’s normally a really cool, reasonable guy and going behind Melissa’s back didn’t seem like something I’d ever see him do.

“Not when you have permission to share, it isn’t,” he retorted, “See?”

He held up his phone, showing me the message she sent immediately following the picture:

** let me kno how finley reacts lol

“So… she wanted you to show that to me?” I ventured.

He nodded then went back to typing his reply, staring at the screen as he talked.

“We talked before she left for Paris about what we’d do about, y’know, sexual tension and stuff while she was away. We agreed to a couple of one-off and reoccurring things we’d be okay with each other doing: she’s can bag one French dude once, any time,” I watched his typing slow a little at that, and saw him swallow hard – he obviously wasn’t quite as comfortable with it as he hoped he’d be – but he became more chipper again as he continued, “she can get down with a girl there if she meets one, and she’s got one get-out-of-jail-free card for anything that happens during the big party the last week she’s there.”

He finished sending the message and put his phone down on the table between us and the TV.

“There’s apparently going to be a big hot tub party or something up at a ski resort: one of the girls who did the transfer term last year told her about the sort of parties this fancy elite French school throws. Sounds pretty legendary.”

I nodded along through his whole explanation, slightly surprised by all this, but happy to see they hadn’t been stupid enough to think neither of them would be tempted by anything other than their own right hands during their time apart.

“Sweet, so in exchange you got to be able to share nudie pictures of her with me…?” I let it hang there while I got back to work on my cereal before Arnavutköy escort it got soggy, waiting for the other shoe to drop on this (seemingly) really lopsided deal.

“One girl, one night this semester. And spring break is a free-for-all.”

“Uh huh…” I trailed off again, still not seeing why he’d want to make one of his ‘freebies’ being able to share her pictures with me. Greg suddenly realised what I was thinking and raised his hands defensively.

“Oh, dude, no – it’s cool. It was Mel’s idea to have me share her pics with you, same as it was mine to say it was cool for her to get with a girl. Basically she wants to repay you for being my ‘moral guardian’,” he raised his fingers in air quotes as he said it, “In other words: you’re in charge of making sure I don’t break our agreements and fuck more than one girl while she’s away. You know, in case I go off on a crazy coke binge and bring back a dozen strippers one night.”

I snorted with laughter at the thought: I highly doubted I was going to have much trouble making sure that the quiet, stay-at-home guy that Greg is wasn’t going to sleep with too many women. Especially not when he was getting spank material like that from Melissa.

“Heh, well, I’ll do my best to stay on top of that.” I replied.

Greg’s phone buzzed on the table and he snatched it up immediately. He read the message, smiling to himself again, before turning the screen to me so I could read the thread between him and Melissa.

* Just checked it out with Finley. Babe, you are utterly stunning. And a total tease :p You were right, it was worth not saying anything to Fin before now. His jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw it! Just explained everything to him now tho

** haha! well i hav 2 go 2 evening class now 🙁 but i might hav another 1 for you boys later 😉 b good + enjoi ur games! x

It felt weird having her address the two of us in her message, but it made sense since she knew I had to have been right beside Greg to have seen the picture that he opened just a minute before. Greg fired off a quick response then tossed his phone aside and grabbed his controller from the coffee table. He nodded at the bong sitting on the table in front of us then up at the huge flatscreen TV we’d splurged out combined Christmas cash and student loan payouts on.

“Shall we?”


Over the next few weeks Greg and I fell into some interesting patterns: every few days Greg would announce he’d been sent some new snaps and we’d check out what he’d received from Melissa that day. We’d sit beside each other on the couch, Greg would take his phone out, tap his finger to the screen and we’d silently appreciate the photo that Melissa had graced us with. Sometimes Greg would ask for my input on the response he wrote back (which usually only amount to “Hot DAMN!” or something similar, but still – we wanted to show her our appreciation), and sometimes he’d just click the screen off after we viewed the last picture and that would be that.

I could tell sometimes that he’d already checked out most of the day’s photos as there were only two or three he had left to open. On days where he hadn’t opened any, there were sometimes nearly a dozen. I felt weird the first few times, but the texts that came along with them made it really clear that Mel knew I was part of the audience and she seemed to really enjoy having the extra set of eyes checking them out. Not that I was complaining, of course.

I was worried that the PG-13 style of pictures she was sending might start getting boring after a while, but she knew how to keep things interesting without showing everything in her photos. The one photo that stuck in my memory was one where she was winking at the camera with her bedsheet held between her teeth so it draped over her body, her rock-hard nipples straining through the fabric, clear as day. I definitely kept the mental image of that one alive with my regular visits to the spank-bank to check it out again.

Which brings me to the other interesting habit we’d gotten into: the sudden retreats to our rooms after these photo-sharing sessions. The first few times after checking out the photos we’d sat and chatted awkwardly for a while before one of us had to ‘go and, uhh, check my student account’ or some other paper-thin excuse, but pretty quickly we both just accepted what we were (very obviously) doing in our respective rooms after seeing Melissa’s pictures and we’d almost immediately hop up after the last photo closed, giving each other a knowing grin as we parted at our doors.

It was a little weird stroking myself to pictures of my buddy’s girlfriend, but knowing he was doing the same thing on the other side of the wall between our rooms somehow made it feel a little less strange. The hardest part was keeping the mental image stable in my mind. Blame it on video games, the 24/7 availability of high-def streaming porn or my pot-addled brain, but my attention would wander after Avcılar escort bayan a few seconds of thinking about Melissa and I’d suddenly be struggling to stay hard because I was thinking about what I was going to eat next, or what my plans for Saturday night were. It wasn’t hard to snap my brain back to thinking about the day’s pictures, but it was difficult to keep my focus without an image to look at. Sometimes I resorted to pulling up porn, looking for caramel-skinned girls with curly hair who could pass for her if I squinted a bit, other times it was the memory of how she sounded through the wall while she was fucking Greg that helped push me over the brink.

Greg and I never talked about what we were doing directly, but we started joking with each other about making sure our hands were clean before we started cooking, or about the sudden surge in Kleenex usage in the apartment. I noticed we both seemed far less bothered about hiding our morning wood when we were wandering around the apartment – after all, every time we stood up from the couch after looking at Melissa’s photos we were both sporting full hard-ons that needed attending to.

One day midway through the semester I came back from my evening class to find Greg sitting on the couch, still in his pyjama pants and a ratty old T-shirt, completely engrossed in something he was doing on his laptop: a mess of wires snaking back and forth between it and the TV.

“What you up to there?” I yelled across as I grabbed a can of pop and a bowl of leftovers from the fridge.

“I got a video from Mel today for Valentines, figured I might as well see if I can play it on the big screen rather than this,” he lifted his phone from the table next to him to show me, another cable running out of it toward his laptop, “do it justice, y’know?”

I threw the leftovers in the microwave and nodded, but he didn’t look up. I watched him click things and double-check cables as his attention flitted between his phone, the laptop and the TV screen for a few minutes before the microwave dinged and I grabbed my bowl.

“I’ve got a bit of work I need to do, wanna give me a shout when it’s ready?” I asked as I walked past him on the way to my room.

“Yeah, sure,” he responded absently, “will do.”

I was almost done with my weekly online quiz when I heard Greg’s shout of “Eureka!” through the wall. I skimmed the last question, picked an answer half at random and submitted the quiz. 87% – that would definitely suffice. I downed the last of my pop and tossed the can into the garbage in the corner, where it landed in a soft bed of balled-up tissues – we’d had a pretty stellar week from Melissa already.

After dropping my bowl in the sink I walked back over and sat down next to Greg. He’d tidied up the spider’s-web of overlapping cables, reducing it to one between his phone and the laptop and two between the laptop and the big screen. He lifted his phone, clicked open the app and triumphantly swiped his screen with two fingers. It went black and its contents appeared on the laptop. Two quick keystrokes on the laptop’s keyboard and the process repeated itself, the laptop screen falling black as it sent the content of Greg’s phone screen to the TV.

“Nice job, eh?” he asked, turning to me with a self-satisfied smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah,” I replied – genuinely impressed with his MacGyvering, “it’s not even stretched.”

Greg grinned to himself again and leant over to the laptop, moving his finger on the touch pad until he saw the cursor on the TV screen. He lined it up over the ‘play’ button on the video clip and raised his eyebrow as if to ask “ready?” I nodded and sat back, curious as to what Melissa had sent him. Or, rather, what she’d sent us.

As the video started up with Melissa’s face, her slightly uneven smile filling the screen, I noticed that the end time on progress bar across the bottom read 5m43s. Damn… I was expecting a quick 30 second thing where she’d say something cute about missing Greg on Valentine’s and maybe flash her tits at us, if we were lucky – but it looked like we were in for way more of a treat than that: we couldn’t see much below her shoulders initially as she started the camera recording, but as soon as she stepped back we got a full body view of her in a stunning black dress with a neckline that plunged almost to her bellybutton.

She blew a kiss to the camera and started moving to the music that was just barely audible in the video and let me tell you: the girl knows how to move. Her hips swayed as she ran her hands down her side, biting her lower lip as she pulled her hands in toward her crotch following the curve of her hipbones, eventually running them down her inner thighs. She made eye contact with us through the camera again at that point, a sultry look I’d never seen from her that immediately put a lump in my throat and sent any blood left in my brain racing down to my junk.

I shifted in my seat, trying Escort Bağcılar to discretely adjust the erection I’d just sprung that was painfully obvious in my jeans. I looked across at Greg, whose eyes were glued to the screen, and couldn’t help but see the tent he was sporting in his flannel pyjama pants. I turned my attention back to the screen just in time to see Melissa stand back up, having just slid her lacy black thong down and off from under her dress – it dangled from her finger as she shot another look that felt way more personal than anything I’d ever seen from her before.

Just as I started to wonder if this was even meant to be something that I was privy to, Melissa spoke to us again.

“Hope you two boys are enjoying this,” her voice was rich and smooth, unlike the usually bubbly and friendly tone I usually heard from her, “but you’d better strap yourselves in: it’s only going to get better.”

She tossed the thong aside and my stomach did a full backflip. We were still only a minute into this striptease and I’d already all but forgotten the bedsheet photo in comparison to what had happened in this video already.

I heard Greg whisper “Jesus Christ…” under his breath as Melissa slipped one shoulder out the dress, carefully holding the strap with two fingers and lowering it just enough that the hanging fabric still covered her nipple – but only barely. She crossed her other arm over her body to slip the other off and let them drop at just the right moment so her crossed arms covered her breasts. Like I said: the girl knew what she was doing.

Melissa started turning as she kept swaying to the music, lifting her arms up and over her head once her back was fully turned to us, the top half of the dress now hanging down inside-out from her midriff where her belt held it in place. With a sly look over her shoulder at us, Melissa winked and lowered her hands to her waist. Through the tinny audio I heard the unbuckling of her belt, and I saw the dress shift how it hung a little as she pulled the belt out and dropped it to the side with one hand, keeping the dress held in place with the other.

I swallowed hard again at the sight of my best friend’s girlfriend – nude but for a scrap of cloth she looked like she was just about to drop – and felt my cock pulse again, my erection as hard as I could ever remember one being.

Finally, the dress dropped and we got a glorious view of Melissa’s round, taught, perfectly-formed ass – her legs parted just enough that I was sure I caught a glimpse of her labia between them before she turned side-on, hand covering her nipple, to shoot another smoldering look at us.

I was so gobsmacked and my attention so fixated on the screen that I barely noticed Greg shifting beside me, and probably wouldn’t have broken my gaze at the screen if he hadn’t spoken then.

“Sorry, man, but if I’m only gonna to get to watch this once I’m going to make the most of it and appreciate it properly.”

I started to turn toward him, intending to ask what he meant by that, but by the time I made the quarter-turn to face him he’d already slipped his cock out of his pants and had started stroking it. I didn’t really intend to look but, y’know, it was there, and once my eyes glanced at it I couldn’t un-see it: his cock was probably about the same size as mine, around 6″ or so, but he had a significantly thicker shaft at the base that thinned out through its length to a fairly small, dark head that his foreskin slicked back and over with each stroke.

I probably only saw it for half a second or so before I whipped my head back to the screen where Melissa had just taken her hands from her tits and was back to dancing to the music – giving us a fantastic ¾-turn shot of her totally nude body from the front, one leg slightly in front of the other to keep her crotch hidden… for now.

My voice caught in my throat as I tried to word a response to Greg, but nothing came out so I just kept my view on the screen and tried not to notice the repetitive motion in Greg’s lap at the edge of my vision.

If anything, though, it just made ignoring my own wanting cock even more difficult: Melissa was putting on a hell of a show (she’d just moved her leg to give a full-frontal shot, revealing a perfectly-shaped landing strip shaved into her pubic hair), Greg was beside me taking care of himself and I was trying my utmost to record every second of the video to memory for mental playback.

Greg grunted a little – even though it was obvious he was attempting to stay as quiet as possible with me right beside him – and I thought ‘Fuck it’.

“I’ll join you, man,” I heard myself say, almost not even aware it was me saying it, “if that’s okay?”

I chanced a look across at Greg again – keeping my eyes high – to read his reaction, unsure what he’d make of it. He grinned in response, looking away from the screen for only a moment to smile and nod at me – his eyes already locked back on the TV by the time he started speaking.

“Fuck yeah, go for it! I was starting to worry I’d freaked you out.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” I replied, already slipping my belt buckle loose – suddenly becoming acutely aware that only two minute of the video remained, “this just isn’t quite the direction I expected this evening to go in!”

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