Kat
Naked.
You are so totally naked right now.
This is what my body whispers to me as I rouse into consciousness. My eyes peek open, the effects of my hangover creeping in. And when my vision blurs into the popcorn landscape of the ceiling, I immediately note...
This is not my room.
I wince through my headache and do the necessary assessments: Thread count? About 250. Smells like? Lemon scented pledge wipes. Wall art? A tacked up poster of Emily Ratajkowski in the tiniest American Flag bikini.
Holy shit. I know where I am.
I am 30 years old. And I’m in a college dorm room.
It’s been a good ten years since I dropped out of college. And I had lived at home. On the rare occasion, I was invited to a study session for class, we holed up in the library, cramming as much text into our brains as we could. They would all leave to party and warm each other’s dorm beds where I would stay and fall asleep in my book in the library.
So this is what I had been missing out on. I scrutinize the chipped paint cinderblocks and white scuffed desk built into the wall. Sturdy and impersonal. Ready for the next 20-something guy to inhabit after a cheap refresher of paint. I started to wonder how many women - and men - have crept out of this room in the wee hours of the morning like I was about to do.
A warm body fishes for me in the tangle of sheets - a long lean arm wraps itself across my chest, settling and then palming my left breast. "Good morning," sounds a low purr from him.
I turn to see my trophy in the new dawn light.
Niiiiice.
I picked well at the bar. He is handsomely lanky, a track and field athlete on scholarship with an interest in Psychology... despite treading on a C average that he repeatedly covered with the phrase “college is about experiences.” His hair is dark and scruffy - no time to cut it before finals. Oh, how cute are young college boys! I’d forgotten. His eyes flutter to open under some long, feminine lashes. Mocha brown. Warm. Like him.
"Do you have a class to get to?" He said, pulling me close.
Oh, bless his heart... He thinks I’m a college girl. How can I leave after that?
"No," I murmur. "You’re worth skipping my, uh, English class for..." And I turn and kiss him - a little stubble on his cheeks. His lips wake against my own and I feel the tingle of excitement of the new. These new lips, new brown eyes... He pulls me closer and I feel the length of his new muscular body, firm and concentrated on me.
My mind spins out anything that isn’t wrapped up in these sheets with me. Who cares that I’m in a dorm, that I am pretending to be in college...
...That I don’t remember his name.
Our kisses grow deeper, our longing more carnal. He pops a condom. I don’t have to tell him what I want, what I need. He wants it, too. He gazes down at my curves with lust, his hands cupping my heaving D-Cup breasts. I wrap my powerful thighs around his back, preparing for our morning start.
I run my hand up his chest and up to his lip jutting out in focused concentration. His cock already erect and pulling taught against the latex. I could feel him lowering himself between my legs, hot and ready. Every part of my body alert and in anticipation.
"You like to fuck a lot, don’t you?" He murmured, taking a mouthful of my tit to bite and suck. My nipples reach into the cold morning air - my body on high alert for what it craves, for the few inches between us to give way as we collapse into each other.
"What ever do you mean?" I smirk, pulling myself up to his chest and kissing that lovely taught flesh. "You never met a girl that can keep up before?" I grin impishly and extend him my hand, "Now you have. Hello, I’m Kat. Nice to meet you... And you are?"
Okay, so it’s a cheesy move, but pretty smooth considering what’s going on at the same time. But it’s really nagging at me. What was his name again? Kevin? No... Kevin was the guy Jackson’s Pub... Maybe Andrew?
"Who am I? I’m all yours, baby." He grins back, thrusting into me. I can feel his rock hard cock slide between my pussy lips, continuing our handshake below the waist.
I’m so wet, just knowing we’re beginning again. Last night he had passed out on me after the first go around. Where’s the fun in that? Most guys dream of a girl that wants to go all night. And I definitely wanted to. I push my hips into him, pushing his cock deeper into my pussy.
Head to toe, I swim with the pleasure I was hungry for through all the fitful hours of cuddling on a thin twin mattress next to his snoring form. Every nerve in my body alerts me of him filling me up. I feel powerful and overwhelmed with urgency as I press every part of me towards him.
His beautiful brown eyes roll back into his head - pure ecstasy. Those long sinewy arms glistening in perspiration. Just like last night, I realize he isn’t going to last much longer.
Oh, the downside of college boys...
But I learned from last night not to go down without a fight. I roll him to the side, pulling myself on top... my practiced move - him gasping at what just happened. And I ride his throbbing cock hard. His surprise turns to panting - to hands greedily grabbing around my waist, pushing me down harder on his cock. With every gyration, we become more intoxicated on our sex. Higher in our euphoria.
"I don’t just like to fuck a lot..." I smirk, riding another undulation of looming orgasm. Teasing myself to hold it in longer. I can’t even catch my breath as I go in for more - a greedy animal. I bite his lip and dig my nails into his chest.
He can’t respond, caught in his own building climax. Lost in my hypnotically bobbing tits- his hands reaching and massaging them as I grind down, mashing my clit against him. Harder and faster. Craving more, I ride him into oblivion.
But my own body can’t resist the sweeping pleasure... As much as I don’t want it to end, the promise of release sings so sweetly to my body. I can’t fight it. I have to. I need to.
"I love to fuck a lot." I moan as I cum hard, feeling my entire pussy grab and squeeze his cock into a final threshold as my body is electrified with waves of pleasure. I hold him tight in my pussy, milking him for all he’s got.
Jesus, I love this feeling. I wish I could feel like this all day, every day. My body humming on wet, sticky aftershocks of desire as he bucks and moans as he comes hard underneath me, both of us shuddering. He stares at me in awe, the lioness on top of him. Trying to find his breath...
"Holy shit." He says as he pulls off the condom, processing what just happened. "Holy shit." Then he looks up at me like he had become profoundly aware for the very first time.
"You’re like some sort of succubus. You’re not an ordinary chick. No way."
I laugh, but I love it. "A Succubus? I’ve never been called a succubus before." A nympho, a sex goddess, a wanton woman, sure. Guess I’ll add succubus to the list.
"So, what does that make you?" I lean down and bite his neck and chest-- ready already for round two. Surely, a succubus deserves a round two.
"Tired." He whispers as he drifts to sleep, wrapping an arm around me for a commendable, if not disappointing cuddle. I sigh and slide off him, he spoons me and settles into the same raspy snore.
Dammit.
I am wide awake. And horny.
Still.
I peek over at him and slyly use two fingers to spread my already swollen lips. I rub clit and start to imagine how much fun if Kevin from Jackson’s pub were here, too.
Ring ring!
Mr. Brown eyes startles awake and I quickly fake sleep, pulling my hand, still wet and smelling of me, under the pillow. My heart flies in my throat. How bad does it look fingering yourself moments after having sex? It’s definitely not a compliment to the other party. Also, does this make me a freak? Do I need an intervention?
"Um, that’s you’re phone. Right?"
Oh, shit. He grabs my purse slung by the foot of the bed and fishes for it. My heart leaps into my throat and I reach across and pull it from his hand.
“Slow down, tiger.” He looks at me, confused, but releases the phone.
I relax once I see who it is. “Oh, it’s just my sister.” I send it to voicemail and throw it back in the purse. “I never take her calls when I’m with naked men. It’s just good sisterly protocol.”
Mocha eyes smiles and kisses me. “So… you said something about round two…?” I perk at my good luck and crawl on top of him, kissing when:
The phone rings again. I groan and I check it. It’s her again.
In fact, she left a slew of text messages from the night before. And this morning.
My sister.
Message after message.
Then I remember. I have somewhere to be.
My dad is about to be sworn into the Governor’s office.