TUESDAY
2:30pm. That was the only thing on John's mind when he woke early on Tuesday morning. Though she hadn't stayed over last night, Tilda had promised him more sex at 2:30pm the next day and had pretty much ordered him to come to her room then. She'd even tempted him - not that he'd needed it - with the offer of anal sex.
John had done anal before with a girl he used to fuck around with back home, but it still retained an air of intrigue and, more than anything else, he knew how good it would feel. He couldn't wait to try it again.
Even without fucking her arse, John wanted to see Tilda again. Having never met before, they had gone from grinding on the dancefloor to John cumming on her face on the way back to his room and then again in her pussy once indoors, all in the space of about an hour. Tilda didn't even know his name.
John had never met a girl who was so sexually confident and willing to do anything. He didn't think of her as a slut, though no doubt many would have done; he was just overcome by admiration and arousal at the way she'd completely immersed herself in their hour of sex. And having had sex with three different girls and been wanked off by another in the last three days alone, John certainly wasn't in a position to judge anyone else for slutiness.
He sat up on his bed, his cock hard as a rock. He desperately wanted to masturbate but restrained himself to wait for the sex he knew he'd be having in the afternoon. This frustrated him and he found himself at a loose end, clock-watching until he could leave his room and head across town to meet Tilda.
After going for a run to try to clear his head, John shaved, showered and dressed, taking care to look his best. He didn't think Tilda would much care what he was wearing but wanted to make an effort nonetheless.
He checked out the location of Tilda's room online, noting that it would take about half an hour to walk there. It was 1:05pm - he still had around an hour to wait before leaving. Consumed by thoughts of sex, John lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
He thought about being with Tilda again and giving her the hard fucking he knew she'd want. He thought about burying his full seven and a half inches in her bum and cumming deep inside her. Then his mind wandered to thinking about Alex and Hannah and Clare - the other girls he'd been with - and what a great freshers' week he'd had so far. With a few days still to go, he hoped desperately that he'd have a few more encounters to think about by the weekend.
John's fantasising ate up some time. After more pacing of his room and gazing out of the window, he decided to leave, almost quarter of an hour before he really needed to.
He closed his bedroom door behind him and headed off out of the building. As he left the main door, he passed Clare, the hot girl who lived upstairs. Yesterday evening, before he'd hooked up with Tilda, John had finally got with Clare in the communal kitchen, and she had wowed him by wanking him hard and taking his load in her mouth.
"Hey," she said, stopping to talk to him, "how's things?"
"Yeah, good thanks," John said as he sped past her.
Clare looked taken aback at his lack of willingness to talk to her. John knew he was being rude and should have felt embarrassed but right now he didn't care. He was single-mindedly focused on his appointment with Tilda at 2:30.
John's journey across the town centre felt like a trance - he ignored everyone and everything around him and marched along the route he'd memorised, in the direction of Tilda's halls.
He arrived almost twenty minutes early and, after identifying where Tilda's block was, paced around the hall's gardens until it was almost 2:30. John then walked through the main doors and down to the hallway outside Tilda's room, which was in the basement.
The hallway was dimly lit, with a little light creeping through the windows down from street level. John noticed doors off to the communal kitchen and bathroom and he saw that there were just two rooms down there.
Tilda's note told him she was in room 14b so he went up to its door and knocked firmly.
Silence.
He knocked again louder.
Still nothing.
Growing increasingly frustrated, John hammered on the door a third time, but to no avail. Tilda clearly wasn't in.
He knocked again, more in anger than anything else. His mind whirred with questions. Where was she? Had she abandoned him for something better? Was this all some joke to string him along? More likely she was held up at her class, but John didn't care. He wanted sex and it didn't look like he was going to get it.
He paced the corridor for a minute, wondering what to do. He knew he must have looked utterly desperate - he was desperate.
After waiting for a few more minutes, he gave one more frustrated bang on Tilda's door before moving to leave the building, but he was stopped by a husky voice behind him.
"Looking for Tilda?"
John spun round and was greeted by the sight of a girl he assumed was Tilda's neighbour standing at her open door. Physically, she was almost the complete opposite of Tilda - whilst Tilda was short, skinny, and cute, this girl was much taller and, although she certainly wasn't overweight, she was just bigger. Her face was attractive and framed by light brown hair, and John noticed her breasts straining against the fit of her t-shirt. Without a doubt, she was hot, and his sex-addled mind quickly knew it.
"Well?", she said, snapping him out of his reverie.
"Yes, sorry," John replied, caught off guard. "Do you know where she is?"
"She had a class," the girl answered, "Must have overrun."
"Ok thanks," he said, trying to play dumb. "I'll wait."
The girl smiled wickedly.
"You must be the guy she fucked last night, right? Come back for another go?"
"Ummm, yeah," he said sheepishly. It occurred to John that Tilda must have told her neighbour about their encounter last night and hoped he'd had a good review.
As if she'd read his mind, she replied, "Well, she certainly had a great time from what I've heard. No doubt you'll get your reward when she gets back."
John couldn't quite believe he was having this conversation with a complete stranger, but the admiring - almost jealous - tone in her voice perked him up. He'd come here for sex much more than for Tilda specifically - and he was starting to think of an alternative plan.
"If she gets back..." he said in response before pausing. "I'm John, by the way."
"Harriet," she introduced herself, leaning against her door frame and looking at him attentively.
