An adult stories – A Gamer-Girl's Escape by MisterWildCard,MisterWildCard Thanks for joining us for the 2023 Literotica Geek Pride Story Event! It’s been months since my last story on Literotica due to other commitments, and I’m glad to be back. In more good news, my Urban Fantasy Romance novel that my older short story “One Night In Osaka” was derived from is nearly completed, and should be published later this year!
As per my usual, some disclaimers about the story you’re about to read. All characters involved in sexual situations are at least eighteen years old. All characters and locations are my own creations, not intended to represent any real persons or places. While most of this story falls under “Erotic Couplings”, there are other elements in play to a lesser extent such as group sex, anal sex, bisexual sex, interracial sex, and exhibitionist/voyeurs.
While this story takes place at the fictional Ellwood College setting that I’ve used in my other stories “Roger, Over & Out” and “A Witch From Another World”, it is not necessary to have read those to enjoy this one.
With all that out of the way — ON WITH THE SHOW!
***
Day 1:
Yvette double-checked the last connection and hit the power button. The screen lit up with a familiar logo, and she was in. “At least something’s going right tonight,” she muttered.
The controller sat comfortably in her hand like an old friend as she took a deep breath and settled into her seat.
The basement TV lounge of Howard Hall was perfect for her needs. No one around, the overhead lights bulbs were burned out and left the room nice and dark, and no sounds except the “Crystal Prelude” theme song of Final Fantasy VII coming from the television. She hit the start button on her controller and smiled with contentment as the old familiar game’s opening cinematic began. The room had three old sofas arranged in a rough U-shape with the open top towards the large TV, and a low table in the center of them where her console sat. She’d laid claim to the central sofa, not that anyone else was around to contest this.
The sofa cushions under her back and legs were a little scratchy and uncomfortable, but not unbearable. All the same, she made a mental note to herself to bring a blanket or something along those lines for the next time she did this.
She was halfway through the introductory mission in the city’s “Mako” reactor when she heard the door open behind her. Hitting the menu button to pause her game, she turned and looked over her shoulder. She didn’t recognize the guy who entered. His shoulders were broad, and she guessed he was about five foot seven — three inches shorter than her. By the light of the tablet he was holding close to his face, she could see he was white and didn’t have any facial hair or wear glasses. His long straight hair was as grey as a grandfather and pulled back into a pony tail. He looks like if Sephiroth had a short cousin, she thought to herself, and let out a small laugh.
He didn’t look up, and as he approached she could see he had earbuds in. He wore unremarkable clothing — a black golf shirt and jeans, much like her own simple outfit — but there was a rather large and bulging tote bag slung over his shoulder. Without looking up from his tablet, he lifted the bag off his shoulder and dropped it right next to her on the sofa, nearly hitting her thigh with it. “Hey, watch it! I was here first!” Her indignant cry was ignored as he walked around to the front of the sofa and sat down next to his bag, just a few feet away to her right.
“Hey! Hey!” She waved her hands to get his attention, but he was oblivious. He did glance up briefly to notice that the television was on, whereupon he promptly picked up the remote sitting on the coffee table and hit the power button, the room now lit only by the screen of his tablet.
Yvette took a deep breath, trying to restain herself from smacking this invader’s jaw right off his skull. “Excuse me? Hello?!” Nothing. Snarling with annoyance, she reached over his bag and yanked the wireless earbud out of his left ear. “Do you mind?”
He jumped as if he’d just had a taser shoved into his ass. “Jesus Christ!” He whirled and raised his fist. “Who… where did you come from?”
She gave him a look over the rim of her glasses. “South side of Chicago, white boy. And you better put that fist down before I break it off.” She pointed to herself with the hand holding her controller. “I. Was. Here. First.” She put that down, grabbed the remote from where he’d put it on the table and pointedly turned the TV back on. “Turning off someone’s TV in the middle of their game is very rude. You’re lucky I had it paused and not in the middle of a fight or I would’ve already smacked you.” She slapped the remote back down on the table, a little harder and louder than was necessary, and held up the earbud in her other hand. “Now if you apologize and promise not to be rude going forward, I will give this back to you.”
He set down his tablet and held up both hands, palms towards her. “Oh man. I genuinely did not even see you in this room before I did that.” He saw how his bag was right next to her. “Oh shit, I didn’t hit you with my stuff, I hope?”
“Just barely missed me.” She held up the earpiece. “I’m waiting.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Man, I’m just batting a thousand tonight.” He looked back up at her and moved his bag to the floor between them. “My deepest apologies. I was in the middle of a really good scene in my book and wasn’t paying attention. I thought someone had left the TV on and then left, but if I’m honest and thinking back, I didn’t even really look around to check. I’m really, really sorry about all of this.”
Yvette nodded as she listened. “Okay. I think you really meant that. Hold out your hand.” He did so, and she carefully placed the earbud in his palm. “And now that we have restored civility, I’d like to ask that you leave so I can have some space to play my game.”
He looked up at the TV and she could swear she saw him roll his eyes. “I’m not trying to be difficult, but I can’t leave.”
She pointed behind her towards the door. “Sure you can. You’ve got feet.”
“No, I mean… I don’t have anywhere else to go. I can’t go back to my room right now, and there’s some loud drama going on in the lobby that I don’t want to be around for.”
Yvette digested this. “Let me guess. Did your roommate kick you out to get some pussy and/or cock?”
He scrunched up his face as if he’d just bitten into a lemon. “Worse. Harvey, my roomie, is a goddamn porn addict. Every night at ten — you can set your clock by it, he just whips it out, logs into Pornhub on his computer, and starts jerking off at his desk in full view of anyone present.”
Yvette winced. “Ew.”
“Oh, there’s more,” he assured her. “He refuses to wear headphones and has the volume way up, so even if I just turn my back on him, I can still hear ‘oh step-brother’ and other assorted grunts and moans and fuck-noises through my earbuds. It’s freaking gross.” He rubbed at his eyes. “He’s oh-so proud to point out that he has everything scheduled out exactly so that he’s always done and in bed sleeping by midnight. So I have to find somewhere to wait it out. I’d been using the lobby, but…” he shrugged. “It’s been getting loud up there lately, and tonight’s drama just made it impossible.”
Yvette glanced up at the ceiling, glad that she couldn’t hear any shouting or what-not through the lobby floor. “What’s the big drama about?”
He followed her gaze upstairs. “Some girl came running out of the stairwell and got right in the face of some other girl as she shouted out, and I quote, ‘You skank-ass bitch, I did not give you permission borrow either my dildo or my boyfriend.’ He rolled his eyes. “I immediately grabbed my things and nope’d right out of there.”
Yvette couldn’t help but laugh. “Very wise of you.” She pointed to the sofa to her right. “Okay, you can stay. But you are still kinda in my personal space, so I’m gonna ask you move your butt and your bag over there.”
He did so, putting his returned earbud back in. “I’ll just be sitting here reading and listening to some tunes. If I do anything that bothers you, please call me on it.”
She nodded, unpaused her game, and resumed her quest through the bowels of Midgar City’s infrastructure.
***
Day 2:
Yvette glanced at her phone as he walked in. “Five after ten. Harvey’s keeping to his schedule, then?” She paused her game.
“Yeah. Ten on the dot, I hear his zipper, and I grab my things and jet.” He collapsed into the right-hand sofa, bag at his side and tablet in hand. “You know what makes it worse? He’s got a freaking baseball bat between his legs that puts the porn stars he watches to shame. Not something I want to look at.”
She snorted. “If he’s that well-hung you’d think he’d be able to get a real woman and not be so fixated on his porn videos.”
He snorted right back. “Clearly you have never actually met Harvey Whippler, and you should feel fortunate. Any time a girl comes around, all he can do is stare at her chest as if there’s a map to the holy grail engraved in her cleavage. Dude gives off major creep energy, and on top of that he doesn’t bathe nearly as much as he should. Makes me wonder what I did to deserve him as a roommate.” He looked over at the television. “So… why do you bother with that stuff?”
She blinked in surprise. “What, video games?”
“Yeah. Seems like a waste of time, honestly. Spending hours upon hours on proxy goals in a fake digital world when you could be doing something constructive with your time.”
She pushed one of her slender braids away from her face. “You know, maybe you and Harvey do deserve each other.”
He looked up from his tablet, a shocked expression on his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You were rude as hell yesterday, but at least you apologized. Now you come back and are just rude all over again. Where the fuck do you get off on just walking up to people and calling their hobbies stupid?”
“I didn’t say that!”
She gave him the over-the-glasses look again. “Not in those exact words, but yes, you really did. Yes, I’m a gamer nerd, geek, whatever. But let’s look in the mirror shall we? Sure I play games with my free time, but how is that different from you putting your nose in a book?”
“It’s completely different!”
She unpaused her game and turned her attention back to exploring Midgar’s “Wall Market” neighborhood. “Sure. You just keep telling yourself that.”
He reached into his bag and held up a hardback book. “Books teach people. They provide information.”
She pointed to the cover. “SNOW CRASH. That’s a science fiction book, dude. It fires up the imagination, and that’s all well and good — just like my game does. But even if that was a chemistry textbook, my point is that games can still teach people just like books can. I learned how to type from a computer game. My little cousin learned how to read from a game.”
He dropped the book back into his bag and picked up his tablet, making a show of putting in his earbuds. “Whatever. If you want to waste your time with video games, that’s your loss.” He pointedly swiped at his screen and went back to his reading. Yvette just shrugged and went back to her game.
***
Day 3:
The TV lounge door swung open. “So I have grudgingly come to accept that I’ve been an asshole, and I’d like to apologize.”
Yvette looked up in surprise — it was only 9:15. “Hello, I accept your apology, and wow you are here early. Did Mister Whippler get a head start – pun intended – on his self-love tonight?”
“No, he’s very exact with that schedule. I just decided to bail early. I was hoping to get down here before you so we could talk before you got started on your game playing, but I guess that was fruitless.” He sat down in his usual spot on the right-hand sofa. “So your roommate kicked you out early?”
She sighed. “I kicked myself out, sort of.” She turned to face him. “So get this bullshit. I walk into my room, and Tori — my roommate — is in the middle of the room riding some dude, while another guy is kneeling behind her and either shoving it in her ass or double-stuffing her snootch. Meanwhile there’s two guys making out in her bed while some other chick is kneeling by the bed to blow one of those guys, and then there’s yet another guy sitting on the edge of my bed, jerking it while watching everything.” She shuddered. “I make it two steps inside my room, see all this bullshit going on, and then she looks over at me and says, ‘Hey, you’re just in time! Joey needs some pussy, why don’t you get naked and get in your bed with him? Besides, I bet you haven’t had any cock since we all arrived here! It’s our first year of college, Yvette! Get some dick!’ Took everything I had not to scream and throw something, so I just grabbed my gaming bag and ran for it. That was an hour ago.”
He winced. “That’s… yeah, that’d be weird to walk in on.”
“I know, right? And to make it worse, Joey is some dude I barely know in my Japanese Language 101 class! I swear, if he says one thing to me in class tomorrow morning I’m going to scream.”
He toyed with his tablet for a moment before setting it aside and looking up. “Well, maybe I could take your mind off that.”
She flashed him a warning look. “If your hands go anywhere near your zipper, I will beat you to death with this controller.”
This got a chuckle from him. “I don’t think that would work, but that’s not what I had in mind.”
She drew herself up in her seat, pretending to look indignant. “What, you don’t think I’m cute? I can be cute. Gamer girls can be cute.”
“I’m sure you can, but since you just told me how you retreated from an orgy invitation, I didn’t think you were in the mood for that. Besides, I don’t even know your name.”
She stopped and thought. “Huh. You’re right. I never did say.”
“And that’s what I wanted to talk about,” he said with a smile. “I was talking with my Humanities prof this morning, trying to figure out what to do about Harvey, and the subject of books versus games came up. He pointed out a few things, and I wanted to apologize to you since it’s clear that I’ve been a jerk for no good reason.”
She set down the controller. “Okay, I’m listening.”
He held up a book in one hand and his tablet in the other. “I got stuck in an old trap. Old media versus new media. Just because books have been around longer than video games doesn’t mean that they’re inherently better. They’re both media for information exchange, and that’s fine.”
She nodded at this. “Okay, good. So you can accept that having your face in a book all the time is just as nerdy as my having a controller practically grafted to my hand?”
He nodded right back. “Pretty much. I mean, getting to the end of ‘Pride & Prejudice’ is just as much as a ‘proxy goal’, as I put it, as beating a video game. I shouldn’t have looked down my nose at you, and I’m sorry.”
She stood up and walked over with her hand extended. “Apology accepted, and I’m sorry if I was a little, ah, snippy about things. I was the only black nerd-lady around back at high school, and I got a lot of shit over that. The other nerds didn’t know how to react to a black woman being in their midst, and the other black folks accused me of ‘acting white’ — such bullshit — so I couldn’t fucking win no matter what I did. I took some of that out on you, and that wasn’t right. So I’m sorry back.”
He stood up and shook her hand. “Well, I’m sorry you had to deal with that, and I’m sorry I’ve been a poop-head. So we’re cool?”
“We’re good. And since you brought it up — my name’s Yvette. Yvette Goble.”
He gave her a genuine smile for the first time since they’d met earlier this week, and Yvette was pleased to realize that he had a rather nice smile. “So… what’s your name? It’d be rude to just keep calling you ‘white boy’ like I did that first night.”
He sighed. “No getting around it. Okay, here goes. Before I start, you have to promise not to get weird about this.” He sat back down on the sofa, and she sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing him.
She snorted. “Unless your name is something like ‘Testicles Johnson the Third’, I’m sure it’s fine.”
He had a quick laugh at that. “Thankfully not. Okay, here we go. My name… is Mohammed Maffioni.”
She stood there in silence, watching his expectant face. “What,” she finally said, “were you expecting me to be upset? I know a lot of white muslims, it’s not a big deal.”
He pinched the brow of his nose. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not a muslim. I’m not actually religious at all. I am at best a lapsed Catholic, much to my mother’s despair. And this leads you to your next inevitable question…”
Yvette chuckled. “I mean, yeah. So if you or your family don’t follow Islam, then why did you get that name?”
Mohammed leaned back against his sofa. “Because my mother is well-intentioned, but to be perfectly blunt and honest, she is not especially smart. I love her dearly, but sometimes… ugh. Okay, so get this. When she was pregnant with me and trying not to freak out over the asshole who got her knocked up bailing on her, she wanted to just keep things as ‘normal’ as possible, as she put it. Trying to just keep things steady. She asked a friend of hers what the most commonplace name in the entire world was, because she’d heard stories about parents giving their kids weird names and making their lives difficult, and didn’t want that for me.”
Yvette put her face in her hands. “Oh god. So when she heard that Mohammed was the most commonly used boy’s name on the planet, she went for it without understanding why it was so common — because it’s part of the islamic faith.”
“My apologies for mansplaining,” he said with a grimace, “You nailed it in all respects except for that last part. It’s not actually required or even suggested by Islamic doctrine at all that folks do that. It’s just really commonly done because a lot of muslims want to give honor to their beloved prophet. Like a Jew naming their son Moses or Abraham, or a Christian naming their kids Mary or Maria or Peter, that sort of thing.” He rubbed his temples. “But let’s just say that when you were talking about being on the outside a lot, that I can relate.”
He rolled his neck to ease a cramp. “Some actual muslims get really confused when they hear my name — hell, one guy a couple years ago got super-offended and accused me of insulting the prophet. The worst was this one psychotic nun at the catholic school I used to go to. She was convinced that I was some sort of ‘spy’ sent by the Taliban and kept insisting that they check my bags for bombs. ‘He’s hiding in plain sight! He’s announcing it every time he says his name! He’s going to kill his classmates!’ God, what a bitch. I was fucking nine years old when that happened, by the way.”
“Jesus. So why didn’t you change your name?”
“I don’t want to.” He said with a resigned shrug. “It’s my name. It’s a good name. It means ‘praiseworthy’ and my mother, bless her heart, is still proud of having given it to me, never really understanding what the fuss was about. And it shouldn’t matter. It’s who I am, and changing it just because some people are assholes about it doesn’t seem right. Also, I’ve found it’s a good way to get a feel for people. If someone feels they should judge me for the name I was given, then that lets me know that I shouldn’t have anything to do with them or care about anything they have to say.”
She cocked her head to one side. “You’ve really thought a lot about this.”
“I had to, just out of self-preservation.” He motioned to his tablet. “Also, in a weird way my name has helped shape my interests. One of the reasons I started reading non-stop is because my mother didn’t. If she’d been more well-read, she wouldn’t have made that mistake about my name. So I’ve decided that I want to read as much as I can, fiction and non-fiction alike, so that I have a better understanding of people and how the world works.”
Yvette nodded and headed back to her usual spot by the console. “Well it’s nice to officially meet you, Mohammed. And for the record, I think it’s a nice name. I’m guessing you don’t like nicknames like ‘Moe’ or whatnot?”
He nodded. “Yeah, those never felt right. Thanks for asking.”
She sat and resumed her game, checking her menu to equip some new weapons and armor she’d bought. “So what are you reading tonight?”
He smiled. “Well, I’m rereading Neal Stephenson’s stuff right now, the Snow Crash guy? This one’s called ‘The Cobweb’, something he wrote under a pen name with one of his relatives. Kind of a gulf war spy thriller thing. Then after a few chapters of that tonight I’ve allotted half an hour to listen to some ‘Extra History’ videos I’d heard about that chronicle the events that led up to World War One. Fascinating stuff, but also seriously tragic.”
She nods. “Those are great videos, I’ve seen them. Their other channel is ‘Extra Credits’ where they talk a lot about video game design. You might find it enlightening.”
His eyebrows rose. “I will make a note of that, thank you. Shall I let you get back to your game?”
“Yes, thank you.”
***
Day 4:
“Do these lights even work?” Mohamed flicked the wall switch off and on a few times with no visible result.
“Apparently not.” Yvette shrugged as her team of heroes wandered the plains in search of a friendly Chocobo to tame. “I kinda like it like this, though. Makes it more peaceful.”
Mohammed dropped his bag on his sofa and fished out a large biology textbook and a reading light that clipped to the book’s cover. “True enough, but trying to read in the dark without enough light is rough on the eyes.” He gestured to his new light source. “I hope this doesn’t bother you?”
“Nah, it’s fine.” A new fight began on the television — still no Chocobos to be found. Ah well, one would show up eventually.
For a few minutes they just sat there quietly, the game’s exquisite soundtrack bringing back memories of the first time Yvette had played this game many years ago. Finally a Chocobo did indeed show up, and she successfully tamed it. This enabled her to safely cross an otherwise deadly swamp by riding on the large bird’s back like a horse. “Finally!”
“So Yvette,” Mohammed said as he looked up and turned off his little light, “I wanted to ask you something, if that’s okay.”
She hit the menu button to pause the game, set down her controller, and turned in her seat to face him. “Yeah, alright. What about?”
He motioned to the console and the TV. “I still feel bad for being so out of line about the whole ‘proxy goals’ thing I said the other day. Just… inexcusably rude of me. So in an effort to do better and maybe make it up to you somehow, I’d like to get a better idea of the whole video game thing. What is it about games like this that you like? What’s the appeal? Part of me wonders if I’m missing out on something good.”
She smiled. “How big of a part?”
He put a hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. “Why Miss Goble! That’s a rather personal question, wouldn’t you say?” He smiled, and it was a nice smile even in this low light. “Let’s say it’s more a part of me today than before I met you. You’ve got me curious, what can I say?”
She laughed. “Well you’ve already said ‘I’m sorry’ a lot lately, so I don’t think there’s any need to say that any more for now.” She shifted in her seat, contemplating the question. “Well, there’s a lot to like, but for me personally? I mean, I like this one, Final Fantasy VII, because of the story and characters.”
He looked surprised. “What, there’s an actual narrative going on?”
“Oh yeah!” She picked up her controller and pointed at the screen. “The spiky blond guy with the big sword? He’s a soldier who went AWOL and fell in with eco-terrorists. Long story short, one of his ex-military buddies discovered they were part-alien and has decided to use their alien powers to destroy the planet, which naturally our hero and his friends have to stop. I mean, there’s a lot more to it than that, but that’s the elevator pitch. There’s themes of identity, the environment, corporate greed, confronting mortality — it’s some deep stuff, and the ensemble cast is really fun.”
He nodded. “I thought all games were simple things like ‘you’re a guy with a gun, go shoot all the drug dealers’ and that was it.”
Yvette slapped her knee. “I know that one! NARC, from 1988!”
“Wait what? I just made that up!” Mohammed looked thoroughly confused.
“Nope. Real game. Top-tier graphics for the time, rocket launchers making body parts fly everywhere.” She grinned. “Try again, I bet no matter what kind of weird shit you come up with, there’s already a game for it.”
He looked skeptical, but sat back and thought for a minute. “Okay. How about… you play a dumpy middle-aged guy trying to get laid? I can’t see how you’d make a game about that, jokes about ‘joysticks’ notwithstanding.”
She snorted. “Leisure Suit Larry, 1987 — and they made over a dozen sequels over the next twenty years. Come on, man. You can do better than that.”
“Wait, how would that work? You press a button to grab a girl’s butt or something?”
She held up her controller. “Games can get a lot more complicated than that. Try again.”
“Alright. Something weird and unlikely. Okay, I’ve got one.” He ticked off bullet points on his fingers. “You play a journalist, taking pictures of everything with your camera, but you’re in space and your best friend is… um… a talking pig or something.” He looked triumphant. “I pulled that completely out of thin air, there’s no way that’s a game.”
She snorted, tapped on her phone, and held it up the search results to show him the game’s box art. “So you don’t think I’m lying. ‘Beyond Good & Evil’, 2003. Considered an all-time classic. Although to be fair, the pig is more of a pig-like alien, named Pey’j.”
He looked closely at the image. “Christ. Okay, let’s get surreal.” He looked up and pursed his lips. “Okay. You play a secret agent…um… but you don’t actually shoot or stab anyone. Instead, you have to save the planet through the power…” He paused for effect and made a dramatic pose. “…of interpretive dance! There’s no way someone made that.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “Elite Beat Agents. 2006.” She laughed at the look on his face. “One level has you stopping a thunderstorm by dancing to ‘September’ by Earth, Wind, And Fire, and then another level has the agents dancing to ‘You’re The Inspiration’ by Chicago to summon the ghost of a little girl’s dead dad because he promised to be home in time for Christmas. God’s truth, that’s a real game.” She grinned at his agape expression. “There’s a game out there called ‘I Am Bread’ where you play a piece of bread whose life goal is to become toast, or ‘Untitled Goose Game’ where you control a mean-ass goose who just wants to make a bunch of human’s lives miserable. Just like there’s books about any subject you can imagine, you can make anything into a video game. And that’s one reason why I love video games. Every time it seems like things have gotten stale, someone comes up with a brand new idea that changes everything and redefines the whole industry.”
She held up the controller. “And here’s one more thing with video games. With books or movies, you’re a passive observer, watching the narrative play out. With games, you control the narrative with your actions. Depending on what I do in Final Fantasy VII, there are characters and their subplots that I might never meet or experience. Or here’s another example. In this game, there’s a point where the main character goes on a date in an amusement park — and depending how you’d been interacting with the other characters up to that point, there are different people you might end up going on that date with, which changes the story in significant ways.”
Mohammed thought about this. “Interesting. I need to find some books on the history of video games, sounds like.”
Yvette grinned. “I appreciate that you’re taking this seriously enough that you’re willing to learn something new.”
He held up his tablet. “That’s the entire reason I read — to learn something new. Thanks, Yvette.”
“You’re very welcome.”
***
Day 5:
“I’m really glad you’re here, Mohammed,” she called over her shoulder as she heard the door open. “I think my roommate Tori is starting a sex cult and I have no one to talk to about it.”
A new voice responded. “Well, that’s first-year students for ya. Happens every fall semester, yes sir and ma’am.”
She turned to see a large middle-aged man with a thick blonde beard walking in behind Mohammed with a ladder. “Sorry to intrude, miss. Your friend Mohammed here told me how the light fixtures were busted, and I figured I’d come on over to fix it.” He set up the ladder below one of the fixtures and waved in greeting. “Name’s John Jackerman. I work in the campus physical plant, so all this kinda stuff is my job. I’ll be out of your way in about ten minutes, I reckon.”
Mohammed shook his hand. “Thanks, John. I mean, we normally just hang out with the lights out anyway, but I figured it was better to have it looked it, in case there was loose wiring or something.”
“Well I do appreciate you bringing it to my attention. Very conscientious of you.” From the way John put an emphasis on that word, Yvette guessed that it was one of John’s highest compliments. Screwdriver-drill in hand, the engineer climbed the ladder and started his work.
Yvette turned in her seat to look at the man. “Wait, you said this happens a lot? The sex cult thing?”
Mohammed laughed as John nodded. “Well, maybe not actual cults per se, but us staffers call this dorm ‘Hormone Hall’ for a reason. I mean hell, there’s jizz stains and worse to clean up in every dorm, don’t get me wrong. But Howard Hall seems to get everyone hot n’ bothered more than regular — especially if they dump a lotta first-year students there, which they usually do on account of the rooms in here bein’ a little smaller than the other dorms.” He pulled off a light fixture cover. “Can one of y’all take this and set it on the floor by the wall? Thank ya kindly. But yeah, I’ve walked in on more fuckin’ than Hugh Hefner in the glory days of the Playboy Mansion, I reckon.”
Yvette laughed. “Did you ever join in?”
John just laughed. “Naw. I’m fifty-three, and I’ve always preferred folks my own age. Besides, my dear lovely Anisha would no doubt see me walk in the front door with some stupid grin on my jaw, lipstick on my neck, suspicious stains ’round my junk, and she’d just rip my wanger straight off. No ma’am, I’m a one-woman man and I’m right fine with that arrangement.”
She sighed. “I tried talking to the Resident Advisor, but she said that students were ‘welcome to explore their sexuality in a safe environment.’ When I tried to explain that it was costing me sleep and the use of my own room, she just ignored me.”
Mohammed exhaled in commiseration. “When I complained about Harvey, all I got back was a vague apology that they couldn’t do anything about him. I did some digging, and it turns out that he’s the son of some rich alumni schmuck who’s donating millions to the college, so they’re not going to rock the boat unless he starts actually assaulting people rather than just acting creepy and gross.”
John worked silently for a minute and then descended the steel ladder. “I can’t help any on the wank-brat problem — yeah, I know all about Harvey, and his dad. Greasy fuckers, both of ’em. But If it helps any, the whole ‘sex cult’ thing gets easier after the Thanksgiving break. We’re still in that initial rush of a bunch of kids bein’ on their own for the first time and in an almighty hurry to dip the wick or get dipped, if you catch me.” He picked up the fixture cover and set it aside on a high shelf. “Maybe it’s all the tryp-to-phan in the Thanksgiving Turkey calmin’ folks down or somethin’ but come December, mark my words, the madhouse orgies start to simmer down. December finals probably got somethin’ to do with it too. Can’t rightly practice your verb declensions with someone’s turgid tallywacker down yer throat, after all.”
He pulled off his electrician gloves. “Okay, I need a favor from y’all. Mohammed, you were saying you two are the only folks who come in here anymore, so I need you to keep an eye on that fixture cover for me. There is indeed a problem with the wiring here. I’ve fixed it so nothin’ bad will happen for now, but it’ll take too long to fix it all proper tonight, and I don’t have the right tools on me. So I’ll be back here during the day tomorrow and take care of it while y’all are at classes.” He gave them both a smirk. “Now don’t you going startin’ no sex cults tonight or nothin’, all right? Wouldn’t wanna have to hose the room down before I start my work.” He made a snorting laugh at his own joke and hefted his ladder under one arm. “I’ll catch you two later. Have a good one.”
After he left, Yvette went back to her usual spot on the central sofa. “What would you even call a sex cult full of book nerds and gamer nerds? Instead of Dungeons & Dragons, it’s ‘Pixels & Pages’?”
Mohammed laughed and stood over her, waggling a finger. “Now now, you heard the man. No sex culting in here tonight. It wouldn’t do to inconvenience the man who’s helping us to maintain our secret hideout.”
“Awwwwwww!” Yvette mock-pouted. “But I wanna! I wanna enslave people with my feminine wiles so they’ll buy me expensive designer shoes!”
“Now you see here, miss,” Mohammed said with a stern expression while doing a passable imitation of John’s mixture of southern and midwestern accents. “Just you wait ’till after Thanksgiving like the good man said. All the starter sex cults will have tuckered themselves out, and then you can grab the leftovers and make yerself a man-harem with all the fixin’s.”
“But what if I don’t wanna wait ’till Turkey Day?” She stood up and got in his face, making a deliberately silly show of stomping her feet like a petulant child. “I wanna get my pussy licked nowwww!”
Mohammed opened his mouth to respond, but absolutely nothing came out. He blinked in stunned silence.
Sensing the sudden awkwardness in the room, Yvette mentally rewound and reviewed what she’d just said — and her eyes got wide. She was at once very aware of how she was only inches away from him. From his face. From his lips.
She cleared her throat and turned towards the couch. “Um. Metaphorically speaking.”
Mohammed stood there alone in silence for a moment before a full-body shiver snapped him out of it. He returned to his sofa and sat down, quietly putting in his earbuds and staring intently at his tablet.
Yvette caught herself staring at the bulge that pressed up against Mohammed’s zipper. Forcing herself to look away, she returned to her game, turned up the sound on the TV, and the festive theme music of Final Fantasy VII’s “Gold Saucer” amusement park filled the dark dorm lounge.
No one said a word for the next three hours. Yvette desperately wanted to say something, but had no idea where to start. She knew what she wanted, but the idea of saying it out loud terrified her.
Eventually Mohammed checked the time on his phone, packed up his books and tablet, and quietly left.
Yvette stared at the television and silently cursed her cowardice. She took a minute to save her game’s progress, then unhooked her console from the television, packed everything up, and made her way to her third-floor room.
She unlocked her door, and inside it was lit with only a few small candles, giving the space a soft glow. There were three people there, their features shrouded in the low light. One of them was Tori, who was prone face-down on her bed, grunting into her pillow as some unknown man loomed over her and methodically spread her buttocks to slip his rod inside her ass. The candlelight reflected off the lube coating his length as he pulled out, and the pair groaned in stereo as he slid back into her.
The other man was standing nearby watching, a bottle of lube in his hand. He was stroking himself to a very respectable erection that was already glistening with clear slick gel. He turned to look at her, but Yvette couldn’t see his face in the shadows. She didn’t want to see his face.
Tori had taken no notice of her roommate’s entrance, and Yvette couldn’t blame her. If I had a thick one in my ass, I wouldn’t care about anything else either, she thought as she stared at the shadowy face a few feet away. He was still stroking himself, watching her.
She closed her eyes and took it all in. The sound of Tori and her mystery lover grunting. The faint squeak of Tori’s bedsprings. The deep breathing and the sound of lubed skin against skin from the man in front of her. The gentle smell of the scented candles. The heavy scent of Tori’s no-doubt drenched pussy mixed with the natural musk of two amorous strangers. The wind whistling past their window. Then new sounds came through the wall, a new trio of voices. “Oh god, he’s inside me! Yes!” “You gonna fuck both of us tonight, big man? Please?”, and a deep-voiced man groaning and growling in time to the thump of their bed’s headboard against that thin wall.
It was like dangling a sizzling steak in front of a starved prisoner. Yvette opened her eyes and made a decision.
She turned away and carefully set down her gaming console on her desk. She kicked off her sneakers. Leaving on her blouse and bra, she undid her belt and pulled her sensible blue jeans down off her thighs. She stepped out of them, and then looked down. She was wearing simple panties. Nothing formal, nothing fancy. Neither dowdy “grannie panties” nor sexy lingerie. Just panties. They were robin’s egg blue, though it was hard to see that in this light. She pulled them down her legs and dropped them to the floor.
Staring at the wall on her side of the room, listening to the sound of Tori mewling with delight at each new violation of her ass, Yvette walked over towards her bed. She picked up her two pillows, and dropped them into the middle of the floor. Her knees dropped down on one and she put the other pillow behind her. Without a word she bent forward and lifted her ass into the air, resting on her arms crossed in front of her on the floor.
She didn’t have to wait long. She heard the sound of footsteps behind her. The sound of the lube bottle placed carefully on the floor nearby. A hand just barely touched her ass, hesitating. She answered by lifting her hips higher, pushing her soft cheeks into his grasp. A finger slipped into her pussy, and she did nothing to indicate this was a problem. A second finger joined it, and a small affirming groan escaped her lips.
After a few seconds of this, the fingers withdrew and she felt his palms on her hips. His hands were shaking, as if he was unable to believe was was about to happen. She could relate. This wouldn’t be her first cock, but she remembered how nervous she was when her first time was about to happen. Was it this man’s first time? It looked like he’d been waiting his turn to fuck Tori. Had he fucked Tori or any of her friends in here before? Was he an experienced lover, or was he a shy first-year like herself who’d never imagined that some mysterious black girl would silently beg him to fuck her? Did it matter? No, it really didn’t.
She heard a deep breath behind her, and she was at once filled with thick heat. It was wonderful, it was delicious, but her thoughts were entirely empty of anything beyond physical need. This wasn’t romance. It certainly wasn’t love. It was just cock. Maybe that was enough. It was what she wanted in that moment. Her nameless partner gave it to her, and it felt so good going in. It felt good sliding out. His hands were warm on her hips, and they slid forward under her blouse to cup her bra-encased breasts as he rammed her.
It was so easy to lose herself in this. To just not think of anything except the feel of her pussy getting what it was arguably designed to receive. It felt so good. The cock was thrusting faster now. This was even better. Yvette listened for a moment to the whimpering gasps Tori made just a few feet away, and decided she wanted that. “Come in my ass,” she whispered. Those were the only word she’d spoken aloud since she entered the room.
The faceless cock obliged. Her pussy was emptied, and she could feel a finger questing between her cheeks. A new drop of cool lube touched her there, and she shivered as the finger slipped all the way into her tight back door. He pulled out just as quickly, and it wasn’t log before her breasts were pressed hard into the floor while a man whose face she’d never seen pounded again and again into her lubed hole. Slap-slap-slap, his hips jamming into her backside in a primal rhythm. Soon after, his rigid meat slammed deep one last time, and she could feel him bite gently into her shoulder as he pulsed and poured out deep inside her ass.
The unnamed cock stood up moments later. Yvette didn’t move. The floor was deliciously cold against her nipples, but more to the point… she wasn’t done. She needed another fuck.
She heard the sound of Tori’s bed shifting. She turned her head just enough to see Tori and her man disengage and grab tissues, cleaning themselves. The man who’d fucked Yvette climbed into Tori’s bed, and Tori wordlessly lay back and opened her thighs to him. The man cleaning himself up looked down at Yvette. Yvette looked back, unblinking.
Less then a minute later she had a new cock inside her, taking her pussy from behind as she lay flat on her stomach. It was good. He was thicker than the first man, but not as long. it didn’t matter. It was cock. It was hard. It was inside her, and it felt fantastic. That was all that mattered.
A voice in her ear. “I want your ass too.” She responded by reaching back and pulling her cheeks wide. That was answer enough. The nameless cock groaned in thanks, and she settled into a mindless rhythm of bracing against his thrusts into her back door as he pounded her into the floor.
As she lay there her thoughts turned to Mohammed. What if it had been him inside her tonight? What if she’d turned that ‘joke’ about getting her pussy licked into reality? What if she’d been a little more brave?
This? This mindless fuck? She’d fucked and sucked before, more than a few times, but she’d never given into her hunger like this. But it was easy. It was just bodies. Wet friction for fun. Her ass filled with a man’s cum that leaked out around the edges of this second cock. Insert tab A into slot B and repeat until orgasm. Not seeing their faces made it easy. She knew what they wanted, what they were getting from Tori. She offered more of the same, and they obliged. Win-win for everyone. Horny college kids fucking and rutting like horny college kids do everywhere — in a small midwestern college no less, the old “Penthouse Forum” joke nearly making her laugh out loud before a particularly warm thrust hit something nice inside her and made her moan instead.
If that had been Mohammed behind her, she would have cried out his name just now, she realized. She didn’t know this cock’s name. She didn’t want to know. She could walk past this faceless man in the halls later and never know that this had been the one who’d had sloppy seconds of her ass. But he’d know. Maybe he’d be brave enough to talk to her, to shyly admit that he’d already felt her tight walls around him, and that maybe they could, you know, fuck again sometime? What would she say? Would she drag him back to her room, Ground Zero for Tori’s ‘sex cult’, and fuck his brains out again? Or would she walk away?
Oh, but this cock felt good inside her. He’d slipped out of her ass and switched back to her pussy — was her pussy that good? Was there something about her body that made men need her? He could come in her pussy, it’d be fine. She was protected, but some impulse made her decide otherwise. “Come all over my back,” she told him. She was still wearing her shirt. It was about to get horribly sticky. Just like her pussy and ass. Good.
Something about her voice must have triggered something in him, because four hard and deep thrusts later he pulled out and splattered all over her back, just like she’d asked.
Her second nameless cock of the night fell back and sat down hard on the tile floor, gasping and spent. Yvette somehow managed to stand up and wordlessly walked out her door, barely remembering to grab her keys and a bottle of body wash on her way out. It was only forty feet from her room to one of the communal bathrooms on this floor of Howard Hall, but the walk seemed to take forever. As she took each shaky step, she could only imagine what she looked like — a dark-skinned girl naked from the waist down, covered from neck to ass with a wet mess that only a good fuck could provide. What if someone stepped out into the hall just then? Would she walk on by them, or would they drop to their knees and beg to lick her clean? It was fascinating to imagine. What would Mohammed say if he saw her like this? Would he still want her? Some guys seemed to think a girl who enjoyed sex was using herself up, as if she was only good for a few fucks before she became a shriveled up waste. What fools. Hopefully Mohammed would’ve seen something different, a woman who wasn’t afraid to get what she wanted, a woman who could revel in pleasure. A woman who wanted to fuck Mohammed Maffioni.
No, that wasn’t quite right, she realized as she stepped under the hot spray of the shower. She didn’t want to “just” fuck him the way she’d been hungrily plowed twice tonight. She wanted more than that. She wanted to play with him, and for him to play with her. To tease, to flirt, to laugh as they explored each other’s bodies and more. She wanted him to read her like one of his books, and to explore and discover her body as if it was a secret dungeon in one of her games.
The depth of this need shocked her. She hadn’t even known him a week, and yet it was as clear as anything that if given the choice between an endless buffet of Tori’s fuckboys filling every hole she offered and a quiet evening alone with Mohammed Maffioni, that she’d take the quiet bookworm every time. If he’d have me, she thought with a worry.
By the time she finished her shower and walked back through the after-hours dorm hallway completely nude and dripping wet, Tori and her two paramours were asleep and tangled together in a bed barely big enough for one. When she woke up the next morning, the two men had already left, and Tori made no mention of the incident beyond a happy “just-got-gloriously-railed” smile and a knowing wink as they dressed and got ready for morning classes.
***
Day 6:
Yvette watched John as he completed the last of the light fixture repairs around eight PM. “Hand up the light cover to me, if you please Miss Yvette?” When she did so, he looked down at her for the first time since she’d arrived five minutes ago. “Well don’t you look nice. Not that you don’t look nice in general, y’understand, but it’s clear you put some extra effort in today and I think that’s fine.”
She looked down at herself, pleased by the compliment. She’d put on a light dab of her favorite perfume, donned a tight black blouse that hugged her curves like a wetsuit, and a pleated plaid mini-skirt that she’d bought from a Catholic School Girl uniform supply store for a convention costume last year. “Thanks, Mister Jackerman. I just, ah, decided I wanted to feel pretty today. No reason.” Her long micro-braids were pulled back into a loose gathering, and her legs were encased in thigh-high stockings she’d hastily bought at a nearby mall just this afternoon. She’d once read that men found the little area of exposed skin between the tops of such stockings and the bottom hem of a skirt to be quite entrancing, and that in Japan they called the phenomenon “Zettai Ryouiki”, which translated to “Absolute Territory”. When she tested the look in the mirror this afternoon, she had to admit that it was quite eye-catching.
“No reason, eh? Heh.” He descended the latter and gathered up his tools. “So maybe I’m, ah, exceeding the correct initiative or somethin’ like that, but I just so happened to notice that the door to this here lounge was a little out of shape. I went ahead and replaced the squeaky hinges, and well, once I got started I realized that, well wouldn’t you know it, the lock on this room had been busted for years and somehow I ain’t never noticed. So I went and replaced it.” He pointed to the shiny new knob, and held up two identical keys. “Now I’ve got the master copy, of course, but I figured Mohammed and yerself, seein’ as how you two are the only one usin’ this room, might want copies as well. You be sure to give that nice boy one of these keys, y’hear?” He put them in her hand and gave her a toothy grin. “I’d hate to think how unfortunate it would be if you were to be, oh I dunno, showing Mohammed that pretty outfit and have someone else walk in here for the first time in years. Murphy’s law and all that.”
He pointed to a door on the left-hand wall that had never opened and that she’d never paid much attention to after her first night in here, assuming it was a storage closet. “Did y’all know that there was a full bathroom in there? I sure didn’t. Even got a tub with a shower head. I drilled out the old broken lock to see what was in there, and was I mighty surprised. Decided while I was at it that I’d make sure all the fixtures in there still worked, toilet flushed right and all that, gave it a good once-over. I mean heck, if someone wanted to drag a couple of the bed frames from the basement storage room two doors down and slap a couple of them spare mattresses on ’em, figure someone could make a right cozy suite outta this place, as long as ya don’t mind the whole no-windows part. Might be a nice place for folks to sleep when their roommates get too onery, y’know?”
He gave her a wink with a twinkling eye. “Aw heck. What do I know? I’m just an old engineer with too much time on his hands. No reason to bring all of this to any, ah, official attention. Howard Hall’s basement has always been left forgotten, so let’s just keep it that way.” He patted her hand. “Give Mister Maffioni my regards.” He paused and turned back to face her before leaving. “And Miss Goble? If that Mohammed doesn’t pull his nose out of that book tonight and say somethin’ nice about that frock you picked out? You tell him that I said he’s a dang fool.” He held up an admonishing finger with a laughing grin. “And that goes double for you, young lady! Don’t get so carried away in yer quest to defeat Sephiroth that you forget you got a handsome fella sitting just a few feet away, alright?”
Yvette was struck speechless, but managed to find her voice before he’d completely left the room. “You.. you know who Sephiroth is? You’ve played Final Fantasy VII?”
He made a snort. “Miss Yvette, I’ll have you know that I owned and beat twenty times over the very first Final Fantasy back in the old 8-bit days, and bought every game in the series ever since. Heck, my wife and I have level 90 characters on Final Fantasy XIV’s “Maduin” server that we play together several nights a week. I usually play Machinist fer ranged D.P.S. while my wife tanks with a Dark Knight. ‘Course I know who Sephiroth is.” He pointed to her console. “Seein’ you play had me wanna break out my own old copy. The wife even got out her ol’ Tifa cosplay for the occasion…” He blushed. “Aw, y’all don’ wanna hear about two old nerds knockin’ boots, never mind I said that.” John cleared his throat. “Y’all have a lovely night, Yvette. Take care.”
She watched the middle-aged engineer leave, resisting the urge to bow at his feet in appreciation. Instead, she turned back to the three sofas and coffee table, carefully arranging the extra items she’d brought downstairs tonight. Extra blankets and pillows (with freshly laundered pillow cases) to cover the slightly itchy sofas, an assortment of sodas and chips on the table, and a pair of candles she’d borrowed from Tori.
Her roommate had just grinned when she’d asked. “They do add a nice atmosphere to a room, don’t you think?” Yvette had nodded and promised to be careful with them. Now the candles were set up in the center of the coffee table, filling the otherwise dark lounge with a gentle light. She’d set up her console well away from the candles, killing time with the tedious task of racing and breeding chocobos in an effort to gain the rare and extremely useful Golden Chocobo, which she would be able to ride across the ocean. This was the only way to reach the coveted “Knights Of The Round” summon materia, arguably the most powerful spell in the game, so the time spent was well worth the investment. The problem was that she’d forgotten the complicated sequence needed for breeding the special bird, and was trying to reconstruct the process without having to concede defeat and look it up on her phone.
So it was that when Mohammed opened the lounge door on newly oiled and unsqueaky hinges, he was greeted by the sound of Yvette swearing at the television. “Just FUCK already, you stupid goddamn horse-birds!”
He announced his presence with a wry chuckle. “If your horse-birds need some privacy, I can take my chances with the Lobby drama-monger crowd tonight.”
Yvette looked up in surprise. “Mohammed!” She stood up abruptly, patting down her skirt to hopefully smooth out any wrinkles. “Um, hi! You can stay! Please!” She grinned nervously. “Sorry, got a little carried away with the game.” She motioned to the coffee table. “Um, I brought snacks! And, ah, drinks!” She held up two cans of cola. “Are you a regular or zero-sugar kind of guy?”
Setting his usual bag down on the sofa, he took in the candlelight and the extra blankets and pillows. “Regular would be great, thanks.” He took the offered can and popped the top. “Decided to do a little decorating? It looks nice. I like the candles.”
“You do?” Yvette’s voice squeaked. She cleared her throat and her voice dropped in pitch to something closer to her usual tone. “I mean… thank you. I decided since this is a regular thing now, to make it a little nicer. I know these sofas get a little scratchy, so…” She gestured to the blankets and pillows and made another anxious smile. There was a moment of awkward silence as he turned to his bag and pulled out his tablet. As he bent over, her eyes fixated on his backside. “You’re… you’re in shorts!”
He nodded and sat down, tablet in hand. “Well yeah. It was what, eighty-five degrees today?” He glanced up in worry. “I hope these are okay?”
Yvette swallowed, her hands clasping each other in front of her to keep from fidget-flailing. “Totally okay! I, ah, well I’ve only ever seen you in jeans, so I was just a little surprised. But you have nice legs!” Her eyes got wider as she allowed herself to look closer. They were very nice legs indeed, toned and strong-looking. “And hairless?” She said out loud, resisting the urge to immediately clap a hand over her own mouth.
Mohammed laughed, looking down at his smooth calves. “Yeah, I know that weirds people out sometimes. I was on varsity swim team back in high school, and I read in a book that body hair increases drag in the water. I tried shaving my legs to test it, and won the next two races I was in. So I kept on doing it.”
He ran a hand unselfconsciously along his leg, and Yvette felt her eyes cross as she fought to stop staring at his bare skin and wondering what it might look like if he shaved… elsewhere. He looked back up, and Yvette nearly jumped out of her skin in a attempt to “act natural” as if she hadn’t been ogling him. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. “I dunno,” he said. “I’m not planning to join the college swim team, so maybe I should let the hair grow back. More normal-looking, I guess?”
“Please don’t I like your legs that way oh god I said that loud!” The words tumbled out of her like machine-gun fire and this time she did slap a hand over her mouth to stop from saying anything else.
Mohammed smirked and looked as if he was about to say something flippant, but that smirk was wiped right off his face the instant his gaze traveled south to look at her legs. His eyes went wide with awe. The crotch of his shorts bulged to cover a sudden erection — or at least, that’s how Yvette’s eyes interepreted what she saw. She hoped that wasn’t just her overactive imagination going crazy.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, his stare never leaving her thighs. “I like your legs too.” He seemed to be wrestling with heavy thoughts, his chest rising and falling as he took deep breaths. After a long moment of mutual staring, he turned off his tablet and set it aside. He stood up. “If at any point,” he said after making one step in her direction, “I’m saying or doing something you don’t like, please tell me.”
She took a step towards him. “I always speak my mind. Not about to change now.”
He nodded and moved closer. “I’ve always thought you were pretty, from the moment we met last week.” He raised a hand, his fingers flexing unconciously as if eager to grasp something. She imagined that strong looking hand squeezing one of her breasts and felt a warm tingle between her legs. “But tonight,” he continued, “you really went all-out and you look amazing.”
She ran her hands down the sides of her body, from her breasts to her hips, loving the way the tight fabric felt on her skin. “You like what you see? Tell me what you like about all this.” She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “You’re a well-read man, you should be able to speak your mind at least as well as I do.”
He was right in front of her now, his eyes shining in the candlelight. “‘Like’ is too weak a word for what I’m feeling.” He reached out to touch her cheek, his hand warm and gentle. “Where do I even begin?”
She leaned her cheek into his touch while meeting his gaze. “Start at the top and work your way down.”
He smiled, his fingers tracing a line from her forehead down along her cheekbones. “I know a test when I see one,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve read more than enough to know that you never touch a black woman’s hair.”
She grinned. “You’ve been reading the right books. There’s plenty of other things you can touch, though.”
His hand was drawn to her chest as if by a magnet, but stopped just short of touching her. She promptly leaned in to push her breast right into his hand. His breath rushed out of him, and it was clear he was enjoying touching her through the thin blouse just as much as she liked being touched. She knew he could feel her nipple hardening, because he shifted his grip to make a point of brushing his thumb across the sensitive tip. She groaned in approval, which seem to snap him back to reality for a moment. He looked into her eyes again, put his free hand behind her neck, and moved in for their first kiss. She opened wide to invite his tongue inside her, happier than she could recall being in forever as she gleefully inspected his back teeth with her own tongue. Throughout the kiss, his caress of her clothed breast never stopped. She pulled back just long enough to put his hand on her other breast and whisper into his ear, “touch the other one too, she’s feeling lonely” before diving right back into him. He eagerly obliged, and Yvette purred in deep appreciation.
When he came back up for air, he put his hands to her cheeks as he looked into her eyes. “Do you still want your pussy licked like you were saying the other day?”
She nodded. “You know I do.” She let her palm fall to his crotch, ecstatic to feel his clothed erection for the very first time. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you too. I’m not a selfish fuck.” At hearing her husky voice say the word ‘fuck’, his cock jumped under her hand. “You have no idea how hard I’m gonna suck you off before tonight is done.” She sat right down on the blanket-covered sofa and spread her legs. “Please don’t make me beg for your tongue, Mohammed. Lick me until I can’t take it anymore.”
She spread her legs, and Mohammed’s eyes lit up when her pleated skirt fell back to reveal that she’d been wearing absolutely no underwear whatsoever tonight. He dropped to his knees and dove right in without another word. Her fingers tangled in his hair. “Thaaaaats right. That’s exactly what I needed,” Yvette crooned. “Do you like my shaved pussy, baby?” He nodded vigorously, the motion making the tip of his nose brush wonderfully against the hood of her clit. “I’m gonna tell you a secret, Mohammed. You wanna hear my dirty secret?”
He responded by sliding a finger deep into her, and she smiled in the candlelight. “I’ve got a thing about shaving. I shave my legs more religiously than I go to church, and ever since I saw my first porn years ago where a man and a woman shaved each other and then fucked like… oh yeah, that’s good… like wild animals, I knew I needed to shave my pussy.” He slipped a second finger into the pussy in question, gently pumping in and out while his tongue explored all over her inner thighs. “Now I’m gonna shave this pussy just for you. Gonna keep it soft and smooth and wet just for your mouth, your thick white dick. You gonna fuck me with that dick tonight?”
“Mmm-hmm”. He definitely knew what he was doing, and Yvette let go of his hair to pull her legs open even wider.
“You ever fucked a girl’s ass before, baby? Don’t worry, I cleaned up real good tonight, just for you. I knew I was going to give you some tonight the moment I woke up this morning. But when you went and showed off those shaved legs of yours, it took everything I had not to rip those shorts off right then and there and swallow your cock whether you wanted me or not.” His fingers gently pinched her hood while his tongue slipped into her folds, and her toes curled. “Oh yeah. Keep doing that for a bit. Mmmmm.” She ran her fingers through his hair again. “Here’s how it’s gonna go. You’re going to play with my gamer-girl ass and my smooth pussy however much you want while you’re down there. Once you’ve made me scream your name… oh fuck, that’ll make me scream, don’t stop… once I come for you, I want you to slide that bookworm dick in me while I sit right here. Give my pussy a taste. Give you a good feel for what you’ve earned tonight. But then you’re gonna pull out and shove that cock down my throat so I can taste my own pussy on you, let me suck you off right before you can fuck me proper, ass and pussy both if want ’em. So if you’ve got a problem with any of that, now’s the time to speak up.”
He shook his head very emphatically and swirled her natural lubrication from her drenched folds around the tight star of her ass with his fingers. She did her best to relax and cooed happily when his finger slid into her back door. Meanwhile another finger returned to her warm vagina and his tongue went right to her clit, three amazing sensations that flowed into each other to create one endless ocean of pleasure. “Ohhhh yeah. That’s how you fuck me. That’s how you lick me. That’s how you take me, oh god, oh god!”
“You gonna come for me, Yvette?”
She gently pushed his head back down into her crotch. “Stop talking and keep licking and you’ll get me there, I p-promise you that. Holy shit you’re good…” Her breath came in short gasps, her hands deliberately untangling from his hair for fear that she might rip some of it out at the root, opting to pinch her own nipples instead. “Mohammed Mohammed Mohammed… lick it lick it don’t stop don’t stop!” Without warning the finger in her pussy curled upward, nudging a new spot on her inner walls — and Yvette lost her mind in the best way possible.
Reduced to the level of an unthinking animal, she desperately grasped for something, anything that might help her sanity stay afloat as her nervous system exploded like a string of firecrackers. She stared at the top of his silver-grey hair as his face remained buried in her crotch, and began to scream her pleasure aloud in song:
Estuans interius
Ira vehementi
Estuans interius
Ira vehementi!
SEPHIROTH!!!
A sobbing moan in four short notes burbled from her lips, she sang out “SEPHIROTH!” one more time before going completely limp and coming just shy of blacking out from orgasmic sensory overload. As she watched him take one last lick, her body shuddered with one last aftershock climax — and every lube-producing gland between her legs burst forth a torrent of moisture that completely drenched Mohammed’s face. He looked up and their eyes locked, his mouth grinning wide. “I squirted?” She asked in a shocked voice.
“You squirted!” he answered with glowing pride as he licked his lips. “Delicious. I’ve never made anyone do that before! Are you okay?”
“Never better! Now do what I asked and shove that cock in me! Please for the love of god!”
Looking down at himself in disbelief that he was still dressed, he was naked in record time and eagerly joined her on the couch. His cock slid into her as she lay there spread-eagled, sinking in deep as her overflowing folds welcomed him. “Unh! Fuck yes!” She grunted in delight with each new thrust, her hands running across his chest. “Give it a few more deep strokes, Mohammed. Get that dick wet so I can taste myself on you.”
A few strokes later, he reluctantly pulled out and sat back so that Yvette could turn over and drop her mouth right onto his lap, deep-throating him from the very first moment her mouth enveloped him. “Oh shit! Yvette, goddamn…” As he leaned back against the couch back and she lay perpendicular to him on her stomach, he stroked along her back and squeezed the cheeks of her backside. “Before you even ask: yes, you are the best I’ve ever been with. Holy shit, this feels so good.”
She switched to licking along his balls while caressing his legs. “Also for the record,” she said with a husky purr, “This is the best cock I’ve ever had. No one’s ever made me come this hard, not even myself. I’ve never squirted before — and damn, I could lick myself off you all night long.” She looked up at him. “You wanna come down my throat? Or maybe deep in my wet pussy? Or perhaps you’d like to drop a load in my ass or splash across these tits you like so much?” She reached down and finally pulled off her top, freeing her ample chest from their tight confines. As she did so, a devilish smile spread across her face. “Hold still. I want to try something.” She stood up, turned around so her back was to him, and sat down in his lap to impale herself on his standing rod. “Umf. Oh yeah. Give me a few hard pumps, baby. Let’s get that dick wet again.”
Mohammed eagerly obliged, grabbing her waist and thrusting upwards. “What do you want to try Yvette? I’m good for anything.”
With a moan of regret she stood up, but turned around and knelt in front of him, pulling his hips to the edge of the sofa cushion. “I’ve never actually done this next bit before. You’ll have to let me know if you like it.” She leaned into his crotch and pushed his cock into her cleavage, holding her breasts together to surround his erection. “Got it all nice and slick. Here we go.”
Her new lover sat back and watched in awe as she bestowed upon him her very first tit-fuck, watching his tip disappear and reappear as she rubbed her breasts up and down around him. She looked into his eyes again and smiled. “Feel good, Mohammed?”
“It really does”, he said with a rapturous expression, “But I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t desperate to get back inside you.”
She rewarded his honesty with a lick to his rigid tip, and then abruptly deepthroated him again. “That’s fair,” she said as she came back up for air. “So let’s just keep this simple.” She stood up, knelt on the couch cushion so that she was facing the door, spread her legs a little, and bent over the back of the sofa.
Mohammed had already started moving as soon as she stood up. Less than a second after she lifted her ass into the air, he grabbed her hips and slid right back inside her, both of them gasping aloud. Yvette screamed,”Fuck me fuck me fuck me!” He eagerly obliged, slamming his hips against hers, the slap of flesh on flesh echoing through the dark basement room.
Yvette never wanted this to end. This was so much better than the previous night, when random strangers were pounding her. Sure, they felt good, but this time she felt an actual connection. There was a man inside her now, not a faceless cock whose name she never learned. She wanted Mohammed inside her every chance she could get — if last night was a buffet of fucking, Mohammed Maffioni was a four course experience of fine pussy dining and expert cock technique. She could get used to this, oh yes.
His moans were getting louder, but they were still drowned out by the machine-fun fire of his waist slapping hard against her ass cheeks with every hard thrust that pushed deep inside her. “Oh god, don’t ever stop fucking me, Mohammed. Harder, harder, HARDER!” “Your wish is my command,” he responded.
As her fingers gripped the sofa back tight to keep from getting thrown off, an idle thought drifted through her mind. With how loud we’ve been, I’m shocked someone hasn’t heard us and come investigating. Did I lock the door?
As if her thoughts willed it into being, the door slowly opened. A slender young woman stepped into the room, a silhouette against the hallway light.
Mohammed’s thrust paused — but only for half a second before he redoubled his efforts, slamming hard into Yvette’s soaking-wet pussy. The new arrival made no sound, no move. She just stood there as if entranced by the sight before her.
Yvette glanced back over her shoulder. “Hey baby,” she whispered. “Wanna try our hand at starting a cult?”
Her lover grinned and nodded.
Yvette turned as much attention as she could spare (being gloriously fucked did have a way of distracting one, after all) to the new arrival. “C’mon in. Lock the door. Isn’t he beautiful?”
The stranger nodded. She turned — Yvette could see the outline of some nice pert breasts on this girl — and closed the door. Then she flipped the switch on the knob to lock it, and Mohammed made a deep chuckle that sent warm tingle all the way down to Yvette’s toes. The newcomer seemed similarly affected, stepping forward.
As the new arrival reached the candlelight, Yvette took a good look at her. White and a bit on the skinny side but not emaciated. Cute round glasses, a button nose, and chin-length golden blonde hair. A simple white tanktop and a denim skirt with sandals. Her brown eyes flashed back and forth between Yvette’s curves getting pounded and Mohammed doing the pounding. Her tongue inched out, gently moistening her lips. She was panting. Yvette made an involuntary groan as Mohammed hit a good spot inside, and she gave the new girl an inviting smile. “He’s about to come in my pussy. It’s good, it’s soooo good.” She closed her eyes to relish another perfect thrust, then opened them to stare deep into the blonde’s eyes. “I’ve got an offer for you. After you watch him finish, if you lick his cum right out of my dripping pussy and then suck him off to get him hard again, I’ll let you fuck him. You do want to fuck him, don’t you?”
She nodded and wordlessly pulled her loose tanktop off, revealing a simple white lace bra that didn’t in any way conceal how hard her nipples were. The bra was discarded moments later, and the stranger closed her eyes in rapture as she pinched her own nipples, She rapidly pulled off her shoes and socks, shimmied out of her skirt, and tossed them all onto the growing pile of clothes. Much like Yvette, it turned out that this lady had ‘gone commando’ today, revealing a pretty tuft of blonde curls between her legs. She slid two fingers inside herself as she sat back on the sofa, pumping in and out for a few seconds while Yvette and Mohammed watched her, their thrusts slowing down just a little.
She crawled closer on the sofa and brought her two wet fingers to Yvette’s lips. Yvette smiled and opened wide, and the pretty stranger slid her fingers into Yvette’s mouth while cupping one of Yvette’s breasts, rubbing her palm against the hard nipple. Yvette sucked eagerly at the fingers, and Mohammed’s thrusts sped up.
“I’m Gwen.” She pushed her fingers back inside her for a moment, then stood up and offered them to Mohammed, who eagerly licked them clean. “Let me help.” She reached underneath the two bodies, and Yvette felt fingers lightly stroking along her clit. Mohammed groaned happily — Yvette guessed that Gwen was caressing his balls — and the deep hammering thrusts renewed, the loud clap of his body against her naked ass filling the room once more, the only sound beyond the heavy breathing of the three hungry college students.
“Oh!” Yvette was pleasantly surprised at how this newest climax snuck up on her so quickly — but here it was, a joint effort of Mohammed’s cock and Gwen’s fingers. It wasn’t nearly as intense as the squirting orgasm Mohammed had blessed her with earlier, but it was wonderful all the same, a warm shiver rumbling outward from her belly. She could feel her pussy clench and spasm in response, and the effect on Mohammed was electric. With one loud gasp he filled her, his fingers digging into her hips as he fought to stay steady on his feet. “Fuuuuck that’s good,” he whispered, gingerly sitting down next to where Yvette remained kneeling. He gave Gwen a smile and gestured to Yvette’s dripping folds. “Your turn.”
Gwen was true to her word. She pulled Yvette down to sit on the couch, spread her thighs, and dove right in without a moment’s hesitation. Yvette’s eyes popped wide open. “Oh my! Damn you’re good at th–oh shit!” She grabbed Mohammed’s wrist. “Baby, she’s finding spots on me that I didn’t even know I had. You two need to compare notes and join forces to become perfect pussy lickers, oh my god.” She looked down at Gwen’s soft hair. “You get a lot of practice at this?”
Gwen looked up to respond. “Never done this before in my life. Glad I’m doing something right.” She opened her mouth to reveal a dollop of Mohammed’s white cum on her tongue. “Want me to keep going?”
He grinned at the sight. “I’ll need another minute, you two keep going. I’m Mohammed, by the way. The sweet lady you’re eating out is Yvette.”
Yvette caressed the newcomer’s hair. “Charmed, I’m sure. Damn, that’s nice.” She leaned back, luxuriating in the feel of Gwen’s agile tongue. Oh daaaaaaaaaaaaamn.” Gwen’s tongue slipped inside her again, and she felt a new tremor starting. “Mohammed, you better be ready, because I’m fit to blow already, this girl is… oh hell yes! Right there! Don’t leave that spot!” Moments later Yvette covered her mouth to muffle a shriek of joy, and then melted bonelessly into the sofa cushions. “Fuck yes, that’s nice. Thank you, Gwen.”
Gwen smiled up at her new friend. “You’re very welcome, Yvette.” She moved to kneel on the floor between Mohammed’s knees. “I’d like to clean your cock now, please.”
“Be my guest.”
Gwen wasted no time, licking up and down Mohammed’s slowly-recovering length and then took about half his length into her mouth. Yvette moved in to snuggle up to Mohammed’s side. “So tell me, my wonderful man. Just how are you going to fuck this pretty little thing tonight?”
“Oh, I’ve got plans,” Mohammed said with a smile. “First, once I’m hard again, I’m going to have her climb right into my lap and ride me a bit.”
Gwen made a happy “mmmm!” sound at this declaration, but didn’t pause her eager fellatio.
“After that, I figured I might lie her down and just enjoy a nice simple missionary screw. Maybe if she’s up for it, I’d put her ankles on my shoulders and bend her in half so I can get this cock niiiiiice and deep. Think you’d like that, thirsty girl?” Gwen nodded a very emphatic agreement, and swallowed his entire length.
“Then for dessert,” Mohammed said with a wistful sigh, “since you like her tongue so much, I thought that perhaps I might take…mmmm… take Gwen hard from behind while she licks you clean again. Sound like a good itinerary?”
Gwen answered simply by slithering up into his lap and sitting right down onto his renewed erection, pulling happy groans from the both of them.
Yvette happily ran her hands across her two lovers as Gwen ground her hips into Mohammed. “So tell me, Gwen. Were we bothering people upstairs with our fuck-noises?”
Gwen shook her head. “My room’s right above this place, I could hear you loud and clear and just had to see what was going on. When I went into the lobby, I couldn’t hear it, so I don’t think anyone else is going to… mmmm, oh yeah, more of that — going to bother us.”
Yvette caressed Gwen’s tight backside. “What about your roommate?”
“I don’t…unngh! I don’t h-have one. I’m a sophmore, and I won a single room in the housing lottery. My roommate last year was a real bitch, so I was glad for the peace and quiet.”
Mohammed reached around and teased a finger into the valley of Gwen’s ass-cheeks. “Sorry we disrupted your peace.”
She laughed, licking along his neck as she rode him. “Don’t you dare apologize. I haven’t been laid in months, I was practically climbing the walls this whole semester.” She turned to look at Yvette. “Your boyfriend’s trying to put a finger in my ass, Yvette. I like it.”
Yvette grinned. “Oh, we’re not official yet. But seeing as how nice this all is, I think we could all maybe work out something… mutually beneficial.”
As if they’d rehearsed it, Gwen and Mohammed shifted position together to lay Gwen down on her back, and he gently mounted her. Yvette had moved to kneel on the floor by Gwen’s face, playfully nibbling on the white girl’s closest nipple. “Oh god. Mohammed,” Gwen said in her breathy soprano, “you have, no joke, the best dick. Fits just right inside me. You can fuck me any time you want, that’s a promise.” She turned to look at Yvette. “If you don’t mind sharing him?”
Yvette answered by leaning in for a long kiss. When the kiss ended, she gently poked Gwen’s nose. “Girl, I saw him first — but no worries. Sharing is caring, they say. Just keep licking me like you did before, let me watch and join in while you fuck my man, and it’s alllll good.”
Gwen whimpered as Mohammed drove in deep. “Ohhhh! Oh yeah, that’s the way… Mmm. Yvette, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship with benefits.”
It wasn’t long before Gwen shifted to her hands and knees, eagerly pulling Yvette back into the couch and spreading the black woman’s thighs wide open. Mohammed laughed incredulously as he lined up his cock against Gwen’s pink folds. “Pinch me, I must be dreaming.”
“No dream, book-man.” Yvette sighed in delight as Gwen rediscovered those beautiful little pleasure-spots with her tongue. “I think we might have a genuine throuple on our hands here, and I look forward to giving this a good college try, so to speak.”
She continued, smiling wide as Gwen squealed under Mohammed’s loving thrusts. “Just so you both know, I have two keys to this room, but I think I can talk our engineer friend into making a third. A little place for us all to hide out when the rest of this campus gets too crazy to deal with. Gwen, you wouldn’t happen to be into books or video games, would you? Might be nice to have something to talk about when we’re not fucking each other’s brains out.”
Gwen arched an eyebrow that was already damp with Yvette’s and Mohammed’s mingled jusices. “Is this a trick question? Yes to both, please.” She looked back over her shoulder. “You’re going to put that in my ass, right?”
Two minutes later, Mohammed sighed happily as he buried his shaft balls-deep in Gwen’s tight back door, amply lubed by an application of Yvette’s abundant juices . “God bless Ellwood College.”
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