The dorm RA has settled in, fallen for Slut, regularly satisfies GG so Butch can get some peace. Hippie finds her place. Kitty has a panic attack. Preppy honors her bargain.
Hippie had called. We talked for an hour. Mostly about life the universe and everything. She just needed somebody safe to talk to, non-judgmental and yes, sympathetic.
It's hard being young and idealistic and inexperienced. So much to clash about, hard to separate the important from the academic; the enduring from the ephemeral.
Especially when you felt strongly emotional about it all. All the sex and truth and knowledge and relationships and sex.
She ended with something like an apology, couched in her psychological mindset.
"I wasn't wrong to want something for myself; a space I could explore and inhabit and enjoy. But it was selfish not to share it; to push the others away, make me right and them wrong.
Better to have drawn them in, drawn my circle larger to include them, instead of small and mean to keep them out.
I did like them; I do like them. I'm not sure I can make any of that work again.
I'm the wrong person for Meta Mu. Not forgiving enough; not accepting enough. Not smart enough.
Tell them... tell them I'm doing fine. If they care. And missing them."
We signed off. I told Alani later about the call, during pillow talk where we share absolutely everything. She just sighed, glad to know but still not right about it.
I didn't know how to help her. Maybe not my place to 'fix things' for her. It's my geek nature to want to solve problems, for me and everyone. I'm learning to control that.
Life at the house had become normal! I mean, I knew what the landscape was, what was expected and routine. I ate pizza on Wednesday, brought my own takeout on Thursday, made supper on Friday, Saturday was date night, called my sister on Sunday, masturbated to a slasher movie with the others.
Made love to Alani most nights. Still banged Slut sometimes but more for fun now, and not on a schedule, just when she showed up, always fast and furious and oh so gratifying.
Slut still went out for it when she absolutely needed it, mostly to not disappoint her side-dick, keep her reputation intact among the bio nerds. She had her pride! All cool with me, she was in charge of her own needs.
I gave GG what she wanted, when she wanted it. I was ok with it. Part of my my brief as RA, health and safety and academic progress. And sex with GG was smoking hot!
Slut was ok with it; Alani very much ok, snuggled me afterward and called me her hero.
Alani loved unreservedly, and so adored that I was helping GG and Butch. Even if it meant shagging her friend on the regular.
Butch and I were definitely buds now, went for beer at least a night a week, shoot some pool.
Never bet on pool with Butch; I learned that to my detriment. Butch had an innate grasp of geometry, could 'see all the angles' like they say, could complete astonishing shots.
I guess that feeds into her physio studies - seeing bones and muscles and joints with some profound insight I could only use a computer to model.
And the motorcycle stunts too! Come to think of it. All started fitting together.
Preppy had been pressuring me about the curfew pass, and the double. She wanted more room. For what I don't know, just more for her to keep organized but hey it's her life.
She'd curiously quit talking about exchanging her chores for a Saturday butt-fuck. Her words, not mine.
She seemed to get into the chore thing now. Maybe she was changing, bonding more with the house?
That was ok with me. My kink had never been bent that way - definitely into tits and cunts and hips and lips and tongues; not so much assholes. Or dicks; hadn't taken Adam up on his subtle invitation.
I made a point of pitching in with chores where I could. As an example. To make chores something we all did, without any fuss.
Now that everybody was pulling together on that, I'd find something undone because reasons (late study session or whatever) I'd just do it, easier than carping about it. Get a 'Thanks!' later, smile and nod.
I still did my trash rounds on Friday with Preppy. It was helpful, and I learned something about house life from what the house threw away.
Not really snooping or perving, the way I saw it. Just part of my job, monitoring the house for any issues that could disrupt the success of the University's prize students.
I also had put my laundry basket in the hall upstairs outside the bathroom door. There wasn't room in the bathroom for it. The women would throw in whatever panties they'd found too foul to wash. Usually because of sex messes.
It all got lovingly hand-washed using my lab setup on the third floor. Saturday morning after breakfast I'd collect the basket, run the silkies through my chemical process, have them sweet-smelling and sparkling clean, delivered to their rooms.
Preppy still kidded me about my panty perv issue, but I think it was more out of camaraderie than anything. She liked to sniff the occasional panty, I'd witnessed that. So I played along, smiled at her innuendo, all good fun.
So Monday breakfast, Preppy in full regalia (Brooks' Brothers, silk, perfect hair and makeup, pumps).
Kitty had relaxed after mid-terms. And some other deadline she passed; I'm not sure how media studies schedules worked.
Maybe some semester project? Anyway she had spent a lot of days in the 'studio' but now not so much.
The costumes had toned down. She still dressed like an underdeveloped 12-year-old sex-kitten but less posing and teasing.
Today was playground togs - rompers, the usually hello-kitty shirt, shorty socks, patent leather flats, bow in her hair, hot-pink lips, ruddy cheeks. She looked real cute.
"I'm gonna be at an Experiential Business meeting late, doing mock funding interviews. Nobody wait up for me. I can usually find a ride after, so I'm not out on the street after curfew."
I alerted like a hound dog. "Preppy! You want a curfew extension pass for Business School stuff? Why didn't you say so!"
I took a note pad from the kitchen drawer, scrounged up a pen. In a moment I'd written a curfew extension slip, dated for the rest of the semester, signed it.
Handing it to her with the pen, "Just write in your name, good to go." I didn't actually know her 'true name', just her house name, which wouldn't fly on a curfew slip.
She looked floored. She'd wanted this all semester, had bargained hard to get me to issue one. Had offered me daily breakfast-blowjobs for this.
Now it fell in her lap, no negotiation necessary. She looked consternated, frustrated. I wondered why. Shouldn't this please her?
Then it hit me. She hadn't given anything in return, and give-and-take was her life. Something-for-nothing she didn't trust.
"We can talk later if you have concerns." I didn't want to say "If you feel you have to suck my cock to deserve this" in front of everybody.
She relaxed, on more certain ground now. I knew this might come back to bite me. But that's what I was here for; to work things out so everybody felt secure and deserving.
Kitty was listening-but-not-listening, cutting half a banana into her bowl of corn flakes. She knew what had just gone down, but was keeping quiet. Smart woman, impressed me every day.
