Charleys New Home

Charley spent the whole three-day weekend awake looking at options for housing (and finding none). On Sunday, Poindexter and his three roommates invited Charley over for lunch, "We'd be willing to let you move in."

"That's sweet. I've been up since Friday at dawn, and I was hung over then. I'm in no condition to make a financial commitment."

Victor (the aparent spokesmen for the group) began, "Our lease allows for house guests for no more than 5 nights in a row. Spend this school night and all the rest of school nights this week, if you want. If you don't feel it'll work out, then you don't owe us anything."

"Where do I crash?"

"Any couch or sofa are your options, unless someone is willing to share his bed and room."

Poindexter added, "You pick which one you want and if you want me next to you or on the other."

"I'm in no condition to fuck."

"I'm willing to do nothing more tonight than warm your bed, hold you chastely and kiss you good night."

"Is that what you want to do?"

"No, but your physical and emotional state would preclude your enjoyment and therefore defeat any emotional reason for me to do my first choice."

"Honest answer, give you that." She turned all four men and asked, "Where's the shower?"

"There's only one real shower in the place and it's big enough to roll two wheelchairs into... it's in the master bedroom's bath."

"Okay. Who takes showers or baths when?"

Three replied 'morning', the guy in the master bedroom, Victor, said 'evening'.

She showered and used her robe in lieu of a towel. She shivered as she walked through the house, the three men in the TV room just tracking her movements with their eyes and heads as she passed by. Dexter was in the middle of changing sheets when she entered. "Do you want me to leave while you get dressed for bed?"

"No, I sleep naked. This needs to air out. Is it made up enough to sleep on it?" She disrobed and handed the robe to Dexter, who promptly laid it across his computer chair.

"You can lay on it. Let me bag a pillow in this case." He shook a pillowcase around a pillow. Then placed it under her head.

"Help me out of my bun here."

She and he collaborated to pull all the bobby pins out of her hair, he opened his nightstand drawer and cleared a 'moulded hole' from the drawer organizer and put the pins there. He placed her glasses next to the bed.

He tried to sleep in his boxers but this didn't work, so he removed them. She slept through the slow speed collisions of his knee and the spine between her kidneys as he took off his boxers under the covers. This was her first sleep in 63 hours and she had weird dreams but feeling the occasional erection between her ass cheeks and hands over her breasts shifted her dreams to the erotic. She dreampt the four men she now lived with were with her on a windswept piece of flat land with a grass cut like a golf course and a sudden drop off (at least 30 meters... a bit like St. Andrew's golf course without the flags, holes and sand traps). This drop off was an almost Dover-ish cliff, except a mafic rock color down to a body of salt water (she could tell it was body of salt water from the smell of the humidity and sounds of surf slashing and crashing against the rock). She was naked except for a pair of perfectly fitting blue jeans, the men each wore a different pattern plaid kilt.

They sang to her and were instantly in perfect harmony, sounding something like a boy band, but singing a song she never before heard before. After some even weirder events she was the center piece of a gang grope buffet, with her new roommates and a few friends she knew from different places taking turns fondling all over her body and kissing her pussy and breasts (she found being the object of men's desires gave her pleasure, but objects of women's desire gave more pleasure). In the waking world, she had switched from masturbating herself to letting Dexter grope her chest with one hand and slide his fingers into her pussy with the other. Dexter was asleep having an erotic dream and fucking her tight virgin pussy while two other women helped (after team-sucking his dick hard the other two women focused exclusively in getting Charley to orgasm). They both softly moaned in harmony just before they started having their orgasms simultaneously. He sprayed her right leg with white cum. Neither fully woke up from this but both luxuriated from both their orgasms.

She turned to face him fully asleep, Frenched him, then held his ass cheeks and put her chin on his shoulder and laid there cheek to cheek as if she was standing on a 11 to 12 inch tall flat rock on level ground and he was facing her close enough for his naked erection to be redirected towards the ground by her naked thighs but otherwise in a statue-still slow dance pose. Just pick the couple up, lay them in the bed and one gets the idea how they were together now. Her left and his right arms had fallen asleep due to their weight on the other's arm. Dexter turned onto his back and Charley went along for the ride. Her legs slipped off to flank his relatively close-set legs.

Three hours later, they were in the same pose, Dexter woke with a sore chest and thought he was coming down with something respiratory. Dexter took stock of the situation (feeling her body to get a much better 'look' than he could with a held-down chest and eyes lacking corrective lenses). He thought of rolling her off and after running simulations in his mind, he decided on a way that minimized jerking of her neck. He accomplished this, then ran naked to the bathroom. He then returned to his room as quietly as possible. He laid down where she had been initially and noticed the puddles both their cum that had flowed together. Dexter didn't get upset it was either his own, hers or both, he reasoned. He saw her pussy was rubbed and wondered if she normally masturbated in her sleep or tonight was special or if was a dermatological condition.

He never went back to sleep and got out of bed less than an hour later. He an alarm clock next to his bed that never been set. He also had a PDA with as much of his life scheduled (at least as far ahead as he knew but entering events that NEEDED to be done at a certain time or scheduled for a specific time so he wouldn't forget to do them), this included a scheduled time to wake up. He decided he should turn the PDA to silent, but before he could move, it screamed "wake up" the only way it could (beeping loudly and displaying the words

wake up, now!!!!

across the screen.

She stirred, "What time is it?"

"Zero-6-hundred."

"Okay." They were both unix and linux fans (neither having any other operating system on their computer equipment, even his handheld, he had reprogrammed his palm V with linux). When one types the command to display the time in unix or linux the command prompt, the default output has year, month, day and 24-hour time to the fraction of a second. This is the reason-in-common everyone in the house knew 24-hour time.

She climbed out of bed, "Anyone else in this place up at this hour?"

"Just insomniacs. Everyone else hits the sack at zero-2-something and sleep till sometime shortly after the first digit's one."

"Okay." She walked to the nearest bathroom. Victor forgot to flush, but had washed his hands on automatic behavior. Victor walked around her not realizing the treat he just missed noticing. She used the bathroom (the seat was down), flushing before and after.

She mentioned Victor's behavior leaving out some details and Dexter filled them in perfectly, then explained, "Victor will sleepwalk at times, but only too and from the bathroom or fixing himself a midnight snack."

"That explains him being a little rounder than his diet would suggest. What this?" She found his cum.

"It appears we both had wet dreams, I've never spent the night with a woman before, except you and I too drunk to notice being together the first minutes of Friday.."

"Write down yours, I'll write down mine."

They pulled on clean underwear, opened laptops and made new vi documents. They hammered out honest descriptions of their dreams. Dexter went into detail about both other women's appearance from the shape of their breasts to length of hair, to the apparent inability to use their voiceboxes.

They disabled their wireless network cards and used the infrared ports on their computers to give a copy of their document to the other because if they used the wireless network, Victor and the others could have bots to monitor network traffic and make and deliver a copy of files with raunchy keywords and/or a significant percentage flesh tones in picture files to their owner.

They closed their laptops and added them to their schoolbag's contents (with a synchronization of motion that went unnoticed). They left to get breakfast at school. They walked quickly despite the 16 to 20 pounds of books and computer in each of their backpacks. He lived across the street from campus and didn't get a parking pass. They walked about 1/3 of a mile through a wooded path then a sun-drenched sidewalk to get to breakfast. She paid the per meal price for breakfast and they ate without talking. She was typically a morning person, but she downed 2 cups of regular coffee (big enough to hold a can of soda and still have at least a 1/3 of its volume unfilled).

By the end of breakfast, she was awake but jumped at a few sudden noises and walked so fast that Dexter, the fast walker he was, just settled for keeping her in his field of vision in stead of running to keep pace. She got to her first class and sat next to the only other female in the class that she'd ever willingly have anything to do with. "Hey, N.V."

Nanetta V. Del Rio wasn't that happy with the nickname Charley hung on her once she looked up the word 'envy', but Charley was the reason she was currently passing the class. "¿Que Pasa?"

"Just had the weekend from hell."

"What happen?" Nanetta sounded concerned because she was.

"Well, Thursday evening, I had a romantic evening with a friend of mine. I made everything but desert deliberately."

"Why?"

"I had planned up having each other as desert."

"Oh." She smiled, "Was he good?"

"Never found out, my sister and the two Mels came in and fucked with us... in a bad way."

"How?"

"Melinda made drinks and Melissa took Kari off for a chat. From my seat I could see Melissa doing all the talking. She gestures a lot, but her back was too me, so I couldn't read lips. The drinks Melinda made were a 6 pack of beers split into 5 pint glasses and diluted with everclear. Up to that night I had drunk maybe 7 ounces of beer spread over 10 different days. Needless to say that was the first time I got drunk. My man friend and I got into bed somehow (perhaps we were already unconscious when placed naked in the same bed). Chris, Kari's cunt cleaner, had got home before we slipped into unconsciousness, the next thing we know it's Friday morning we're hung over. No school and after we'd gone as far as I could bring myself. I wanted to do something other than sex. I let him pick what he wanted me to wear -- I'd have vetoed anything too slutty, but I didn't mind his choices -- well, after watching movies for several hours, we leave the theater and I find out I have all these messages. My sister and them had posed our naked selves and posted them on a website. My parents came by to check on me. Fuck, I decided to move out before they drugged me and made me a fucking party favor."

"Where'd you stay?"

"I kept moving, staying awake from Friday dawn to Sunday around sunset. A few friends offered to add me to their lease but I'm undecided."

"There's something that must be said."

"What?"

The bell rang and the professor was already in. Anything she said, could get her an 0 for class participation that day. Given her grade, she needed every point she could get and she knew it. "He loves you. Don't forget that?"

Charley gave her a befuddled look.

Nanetta nodded.

Charley moved to her normal seat and sat down. Nanetta did a double take. Someone had sent her a few pics to her (of Charley barely holding a man's semi-placid cock in her hand among other sexualized poses).

Charley couldn't sit still and her heart wouldn't slow. After being distracted for half an hour the prof asked, "Ms. Roscoe, is there something wrong with you?"

"I've had too much coffee this morning. Two cups more than usual."

"How many do you normally have?"

"Zero, I'm a morning person by nature. Just had a weekend from hell, was up from Friday to Sunday and only slept the last 3 hours of Sunday unto about zero-six-hundred? This class is too important to miss. Hey, I'm trying to keep still but my heart's still going as fast as if I were running a half-marathon while being chased by dogs who hold Cujo as the ideal role model."

"Get to the infirmary. I'm sure Ms. Rios or Mr. Poindexter will watch over your stuff. Would someone go with her?"

Nanetta Del Rios decided to wait and correct the professor at the end of class.

"I will." Dexter saved the file with the notes he'd taken today, closed his laptop (automatically putting it into sleep mode) and escorted her to the infirmary. Students were charged for physicals, lab work and pharmacy products. Other exams were free (general practitioners and nurse practitioners were the only people who saw patients). Poindexter was concerned, because this was the same professor who said, 'If you miss this class, you had better be dead or abducted.'

Once she was through the door and heading to an exam room to wait. Dexter sent a short text to Victor:

Vic, Please get the notes for today's classes -- QDP.

No sooner did he hit send, than Charley called, "Dexter, Charley here."

"How are you, love?"

"Nervous, I hate hospitals... don't try logic with me, this place is close enough to a fucking hospital. They wouldn't let me bring you in. Not even if I put in writing. When I get out of here, take me home, sex me, feed me a large lunch in bed (and I mean feed me in a non-sexual way), fuck me again and leave me asleep till I wake up on my own. Bye-bye."

In the background a feminine voice spoke, "Miss Roscoe?" as the connection terminated.

Her diagnosis: sensitivity to caffeine. This was an informed diagnosis: They did some intense listening to her heart, almost everyone with a medical license took a turn (they also did a blood test to check the enzymes that are always out of whack after a heart attack... this came back normal). She, the nurse practitioner, recommended she take it easy the rest of the day and not to attempt to exercise to 'wear herself sleepy' and turn off her alarm and miss class tomorrow if she had to. The nurse practitioner offered a medical excuse and charted Charlene Roscoe's diagnosis as Charley walked to the waiting room. She also gave Charley a script for 1 very powerful sleeping pill which she physically slipped into her pocket and mentally placed in dev/null (a unix-based slang term for 'oblivion' or 'deleting a file beyond recovery').

He pocketed his phone and put his bag on while watching her approach the door, then grabbed her bag and held it at the ready for her put on. "So, what did the doc say?"

"She said to take it easy."

He attempted to deftly pull it away.

She grabbed her bag before he could complete the pull away, "I'm not an invalid!" She screamed loud enough to bounce off the administrative office building's wall, into the shaded clinic doorway even louder than it was when she screamed it. Much more softly she spoke, "I Promise, the walk back is the last exertion of the day... except for getting fucked by you."

"Do you mean fucked, as in penetration or fucked as a generic term?"

"I want you to cum into me."

"I want kids but not in the summer of '09. Start walking, I'll catch up." He went into the pharmacy and grabbed two or three condoms.

She walked a short way then stood in the shade, for all of 15 seconds until she saw him. He started walking to her and she walked trying to walk slowly, but not too slowly. She'd go off on him if he attempted to take her bag again. They got to his place and he attempted to improvise lunch (the four men there chose their house location with care, they couldn't cook beyond the basics and found it easier to walk or take George's student parking car hanger and hang it on whatever car they'll drive to the cafeteria to eat). There was a box of fresh strawberries, unopened jar of peanut butter, blackberry jam (when he opened it, he saw and smelled the mold). He reclosed and dropped the jam into the trash, then removed all the lunch products he saw (one small slice each of 4 to 6 meats). He offered, "We got sandwiches one cold cut and peanut butter and fresh strawberries."

"What's to drink?"

"Hot tea both normal and decaf... Beer, [name of brand name lemon-lime soft drink he saw]."

"The cold cuts, what cold cuts?"

"Uh, a slice of beef bologna, slice of ham, a slice of roast beef, two slivers of salami."

"Okay, everything but the salami, because there's only one salami I want anywhere near me and that'll be after lunch." She usually got acne-like speckles on her face and tits when she ate salami and could care less why (she just avoided it). She sat down and watched him make lunch. "Beer and a glass of water to drink... I don't need more caffeine." Typical college student logic: beer = anti-caffeine.

He found a box of that milk that could be stored at room temperature until it was opened, it was unopened and in the back of the fridge (the sell by date was 10 days ago, but it was in the fridge for two or three semesters). He never had the stuff before and sniffed it like a dog who was hungry enough to expand his menu choice beyond the normal but not yet hungry enough to eat anything that didn't bite back.

It smelled different than 'normal' milk, but better than skim milk or soy milk, so he grabbed a 12 ounce glass, poured about a shot glass full of that milk into the tall glass, and drank it down. A little too sweet but he couldn't have any sandwich with peanut butter unless he drank milk with it. He poured a glass full of milk and opened a can of beer, and placed both on the table. He filled a glass with tap water added it to the table and then covered a slice of bread with mayo and mustard and covered the other with every scrap coldcut that wasn't salami. She got up to get chips and cookies. He used only one knife to spread the mayo over her bread and and slice the strawberries.

He got a text from Romeo:

Where you at?

@ house. Having lunch, Y?

Don't touch the strawberries!

He called, "Too late. Already sliced up, mixed with peanut butter between two slices of bread. I'm pulling a Lincoln out of my wallet. It'll be on your keyboard by the time you get back... hell, it'll be there by the time I hang up." He pulled his wallet out and placed the cash on the keyboard. "Thought you didn't like strawberries... I meant allergic?... then why?... understood. No, I didn't touch the Champagne, tried it once at a family wedding a few years ago... worst-tasting white wine in the world." Rom hung up on him.

"Who--"

"Romeo Alpha Deltha... The guy we call Rom because he reminds us of Quark's brother except with bigger ears."

"How'd he get that name?"

"His father is Master Chief Deltha, excuse me, Senior Master Chief Deltha. He's in communications with the Navy."

"PR or radio?"

"Radio. Rom is 7th of his father's 9 children. His father liked the initials R.A. and didn't think far enough to see how it'd combine with Deltha. Anyway, after choosing so many names, he could only get a few names that ended in 'a', but most of them were girls names, but when he heard Alpha at work, then on Animal Planet or another station during a show about Timberwolves, he decided Alpha was a very masculine-sounding name. As far as Rom's mother, she is PASSIVE. She'd demure to anyone with at least one testicle and a history of being nice to her. Rom in particular is very protective of her and she even more submissive to his will than her husband's."