Door And Roomies Dirty Thanksgiving

- DOOR & ROOMIE'S DIRTY THANKSGIVING -

by

warkat747

Authors Note: This is a work of fiction. And a very long one at that. All characters, places, events, and any other descriptive words, thoughts, or imagery you may or may not want to use to describe this story are entirely made up. The depictions of sexual acts, if that's what you interpret the words to mean, are fictitious and are all taking place between fictitious adults who are of a fictitious legal age to be consenting to be doing what they fictitiously do or do not do, fictitiously. Enjoy.

- - - - -

The message that popped up was unexpected but not at all unwelcome.

"Roomie! I miss you!"

"Door?"

- - - - -

My college roommate of last year and I were not outgoing people. We spent our free time during the week hanging out in our dorm room doing... whatever. I suppose occasionally some studying was done. My roommate would usually disappear to the common room to talk to his girlfriend on the phone for an hour or so each night; friends would drift in and out of our room as it suited them, and the door was always open.

One evening, two girls I didn't recognize graced our doorway. They came in and started talking to my roommate; well, one of them did. The other more or less kept to herself and leaned against the door jam, occasionally backing up or contradicting something the talkative one said. The talkative one was clearly flirting with my roommate, though she wasn't getting anywhere with him. Thus, she decided she needed to up her game and began to tell all of us about the anal sex she had been having with her boyfriend/not-really-boyfriend the night before and how her ass was still sore from it. I can only speak for myself, but as I hadn't had a sexual partner in about a year, the talkative one had my full, throbbing, erect attention. After about an hour and a half of hanging out in our room, the two girls left and headed off to the quiet girl's room, which was just around the corner on the same floor of the dorm as ours.

"You've got weird friends," my roommate said to me.

"What? I don't know them," I replied.

"What? I don't know them. Who the fuck were they?"

"I don't know. A door and a whore?" The discussion of what had just happened went on long into the night.

As it transpired, Whore and Door became regular fixtures in our room for the remainder of the year, showing up two or three nights a week and spending a couple of hours wasting time with us. The whole impetus for them stopping by in the first place was that Whore wanted to jump my roommate's dick six ways to Sunday but was oblivious to, or didn't care about, his girlfriend and her complete lack of progress in getting him in the sack. The one time she did manage to get him alone in her dorm room, she did everything short of lubing up her hole in front of him to try to get her point across to him, though to no avail. Whore didn't come around to our room much after that. Door, on the other hand, after her hesitant start, opened up and was now just as much part of the interactions as the rest of us were. She called me Roomie, and I called her Door. My roommate and the Whore went by their actual names, well, until she left our room and she became 'the Whore' again. Hey, first impressions.

- - - - -

"The dorm is dead. I hate my roommate. I think I'm going to try to move off campus next semester."

"Think you'll be able to find a place mid-year? Sinnipee, Wisconsin isn't exactly that big of a town."

"I don't know. I'll move back home if I have to. It just sucks here. Where are you again?"

"Vulcan, Ohio. Too far away for you to move in."

"Well, duh. I do miss you, though. Hey, guess what?"

"What?"

"I got my belly button and nose pierced."

"Okay, do me a favor. Next time you go swimming, plug your nose and exhale underwater, then let me know if tiny bubbles come out of the piercing."

"Lol. Okay. I'll let you know. Weirdo. See, this is why I miss you guys. You always made me smile."

"Good. You always gave me raging boners, which is why I hardly ever stood up."

"OMG, TMI! Really?"

"Well, mainly your whore friend. I mean, there was a pretty constant flow of dirty talk and sexual innuendo out of her mouth."

"Gee, thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself."

"Fine. To your credit, when you wore shirts that showed off your boobs, it was pretty damn fantastic. Also, you didn't come across as a dirty whore. Both are good things, in my opinion. Feel better?"

"I don't like them."

"What?"

"My boobs."

"I'm sorry. I don't understand. Everybody likes boobs.

"I don't like my boobs."

"Well, I thought they were all right."

"Really?"

"Hey, if you had whipped them out and stuck them in my face, I wouldn't have complained... or come up for air."

"Lol."

"Yeah, I was always kind of disappointed you were never as slutty as your friend. You should work on that. I bet you'd find the dorm more fun if you had a few guys completely pussy whipped and at your beck and call day and night."

"I can't pussy whip anybody. That's why I want to move out. Easier to live alone."

"Aw, sad. Think more positive, but not on the STD test results. You want that to be negative. Also, pregnancy tests."

"Yeah, no danger there. My fingers are clean."

"So... hard... right... now..."

"M'kay. Well, I'll leave you to take care of business."

"Send boob pictures!"

"You wouldn't want to see them. Trust me."

"I bet I would."

"I'll talk to you later."

"Lucky fucking fingers!"

Though I wasn't actually hard when I sent Door the message saying I was, later that night, I was so turned on by the thought of her fingering her pussy while thinking about me being hard from thinking about her fingering herself that I didn't even manage to grab my discarded boxers to catch my load before I stroked myself off all over my stomach. It was the most exciting fantasy I had had in a while, and I blew one hell of a load.

In the morning, when I woke up, I felt kind of bad for Door not being able to go to town on herself the way I had the night before, as having a roommate always spoils that kind of freedom. I knew what it was like having to sneak a quiet wank in the middle of the night or hoping the roommate didn't come back from class earlier than normal and catch you with your dick in your hand. She could probably only manage to get a quiet clit rub at night and maybe finger herself if she wasn't too wet and noisy. That sexy noise a wet pussy can make when it gets played with. A vibrator would have been right out of the question unless she snuck a quicky in during the day. It seems the thought of Door masturbating was just too sexy for me to let go of, and as I took my morning shower, I inevitably played with my cock until my ropy strands of cum ran down the drain.

It was the following weekend before a message from Door again lit up my screen.

"Roomie!"

"Door."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"Really?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"That doesn't sound very convincing."

"Sorry."

"Don't lie. You hated us hanging out in your dorm room last year."

"Not true. It was okay sometimes. It would have been better if you had your boobs out, of course, which you didn't. But it was what it was."

"Well, I did flash my friend in her room out your window that one time."

"YES! I had forgotten that! And those of us in the room didn't get to see anything. And, as I recall, you had to do it twice, right next to the bed I was sitting on at the time. But did I leap over like a horny creep to get an illicit eyeful of titty? NO, I DID NOT! And despite this polite behavior, was I rewarded by you forcing your nipples into my mouth to get sucked on? No!"

"Lol! I didn't know you wanted them that bad."

"A single 20-something-year-old guy in college. Yes. I wanted to see your boobs that bad."

"Well, if you were here now, I'd flash you."

"Well, I'm hundreds of miles away, so... shit!"

"You make me smile. But I still don't like them."

"Who said something mean about your breasts that gave you such low self-esteem?"

"Nobody. Just me. I don't think they're nice looking."

"Why?"

"They aren't perky. I want them to be."

"As I recall, they are a fairly good size, so you can't expect them to be THAT perky."

"I know. Maybe they are too big. Not all guys like big boobs."

"True. But I guarantee you somebody will like what you have. What size are they anyway? That is if you don't mind me asking such a personal question. You don't have to answer, of course. I won't be offended if you don't.

"They're 38Ds. I don't know. I don't like them sometimes. What do you think?"

"Well, I have only seen the space in between your boobs from the top down, depending on what low-cut shirt you might have been wearing last year, so I don't feel I can make an accurate assessment of your breasts at this time. (Send me boob pictures!) Though, as I recall (Send boob pictures), I didn't think you had anything to worry about from my point of view. And my point of view was trying to see down your shirt whenever I got the chance."

"Lol. Really? You were trying to see down my shirt that much?"

"I was just disappointed that you were usually wearing a bra."

"Well duh, they're big."

"I know. But I can clearly remember one time when you came around late and were already in pajamas and had no bra on. But you had a hoodie on that wasn't zipped, and your nipples were really noticeable through the shirt you had on under it."

"Really?"

"Oh, I was paying attention. I just wish the hoodie had moved out of the way more often."

"I don't remember that."

"I do."

"Lol. I didn't realize you paid that much attention to me."

"Okay, don't take this the wrong way, but I didn't. The two of you were fun to hang out with, but you were always around and kind of like 'the girl next door.' Nice, but not ever on the radar. Well, unless your tits were out."

"See, I knew you didn't really like us."

"I liked you fine. I just didn't think of pursuing you in a 'romantic manner.' I felt the chances of me ever getting you in a situation where your legs were on my shoulders, and I was watching your tits bounce while you shouted, 'keep pounding me big boy,' were pretty remote."

"ROFLMAO!"

"Besides, I don't recall you ever making any moves on me."

"Well, you were quiet. It was hard to get to know you."

"Compared to my roommate, I was quiet. But you were quiet compared to the Whore. So, quiet isn't all that bad."

"That's true. Well, I've got to go."

"Okay. Have a good night."

"Good night, 'Big Boy'."

In the morning, when I checked my messages, I was shocked to see a picture of a nipple! Despite my enthusiastic reply of approval, it was still another week until I heard from Door again. Though, that nip pic kept my mind well entertained and hard as a rock every time I thought about it, or looked at it, and I looked and thought about it a lot.

"How'd you like that?"

"I had to go to the emergency room this week because my testicles were in so much pain from overuse!"

"Lol! I don't believe that."

"Alright, that might be an exaggeration. But I'm not complaining. Feel free to send more nip pics. Ones that show your entire boob and or boobs would be good too.

"I didn't like any of those."

"Sorry, I'm distracted by the thought of you taking more sexy boob pictures."

"Lol. I did. I didn't like any of them, so I only sent you a nipple."

"Well, I approve. In fact, I've had it blown up to poster size and framed. It's hanging on my bedroom wall right now."

"You can't hang my nipple on your wall. And I better never see it on the internet!"

"Relax. I'm not a creep like that, and no, it's not hanging on my wall."

"Good."

"It is sexy, though."

"You think?"

"Yeah. I'd happily see more."

"But I don't want somebody to see them, I want somebody to touch them."

"Well, I most certainly would, but I'm hundreds of miles away. Besides, if I wasn't far away, there's no way you would let me near them. Saying something in a message is one thing, in the same room, it would be something else entirely."

"That's not necessarily true."

"Yeah, right."

"Really."

"So, you're just horny?"

"Well, yeah."

"And willing to settle."

"No."

"Well, if you'd go for me, you must be willing to settle."

"Besides, I don't think I want sex right now. I just want to cuddle."

"See, talking your way out of it already. 'Oh god,' you're thinking, 'flirting has gone too far with Roomie. Walk it back!'"

"Lol. No. But I do want to find a guy. How do I go about finding a guy?"

"I don't know. I've never tried to pick one up."

"But what's wrong with me? Is there something I should change about myself?"

"No, no, no. First, don't ever think like that. Be yourself no matter what... unless the money is really good. Second, here's the secret, guys already notice you. You just have to hope one of them has the courage to do something about it."

"Really?"

"Really."

"But how do you know they notice me out of all the girls on campus?"

"Because you're a girl, and we notice them all."

"Lol. I don't think so."

"I'm not kidding. If a woman is within our field of view, we will check her out."

"Well, no one must like what they see because I haven't had one guy hit on me yet this year."

"That doesn't mean they didn't like what they saw. Somewhere, you're causing erections. We just don't usually try to make a move."

"Why not?"

"Because flirting is now sexual harassment. And you, women, have made it very clear that such things must end. Hence, no more unsolicited getting hit on by guys."

"I like getting hit on. It makes me feel good to know that somebody likes me."

"Sure. Who doesn't like to know that?"

"Tell me honestly, what do you think of me? Am I ugly, fat, nasty, what?"

"No. I wouldn't say any of those things."

"Well, what would you say? Because that's how I would say I am."

"Okay, look, you'll probably never get on the cover of Vogue, but neither will I.

"Lol. But that still doesn't tell me what you think."

"Fine. If we weren't hundreds of miles apart, I'd try to get off your wrapper and taste the salty goodness."

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"Hmm, I don't know."

"Aw, and here I thought you liked me."

"Well, you were a lot of fun. And you know personality means a lot to me."

"And here comes the bullshit..."

"And just to let you know, you have an awesome personality."

"'...which is why you're never getting in my pants.' It's like when women say 'size doesn't matter,' we all know it's bullshit. Thankfully, I'm hung like a horse, so I'm good there."

"Lol. Big Boy. But I know people who have dismissed guys they didn't think were all that much but who I thought were pretty good-looking because I also knew he had a good personality. A good personality makes a guy cuter.

"Right. A good personality makes a person a lot easier to get along with."

"Yeah. So, you see, it does matter to me. It's a big factor."

"I've got a 'big factor'!"

"Lol. I bet you do. But seriously, you know I miss you being here."

"Thanks. I know you were trying to be serious."

"Maybe that's my problem, I'm always too serious."

"No, no, no! Again, don't think like that. 'My problem is...' isn't your problem. Don't try to be somebody you're not because it won't work (unless the money is really good). You're you. That's all you can and ever will be. Whoever that is, just be her. Believe me, she's better than you give her credit for."

"Wow. Thank you. I think."

"I'm just telling you the truth."

"Well, I've got to go. Talk later?"

"Absolutely."

The next day, I sent Door a picture of one of my nipples. I thought it was funny to reciprocate in kind. It was also considerably hairier than hers had been and altogether less sexy. There was no reply until mid-week when another very sexy picture arrived, this time the tip of a tongue, presumably hers, licking a hard nipple. The message 'here's the other one' accompanied the image. That night, I tried to do the same thing to send back but couldn't get my tongue anywhere near either of my nipples. So, I just thought about her doing it instead while I jerked off into a sock. Sad, but true.

By this point, I figured our conversations were a weekend thing. So, as I anxiously waited for Saturday, I was pleasantly blindsided Friday night.

"Did you think I was annoying last year?"

"At first."

"Wow. Thanks."

"Would you prefer I lie to you? Yes, at first. We weren't used to people hanging out in our room wanting to talk to us like you two did. We just mindlessly wasted time in front of screens when not drinking."

"Well, you needed some change then."

"Probably true."

"I loved hanging out in your room. I loved you guys. I could be having a horrible day, and you made it better.

"I'm glad we could help. Does that mean I get more boob pictures?"

"I'll have to think about it."

"Damn it, that means no. When a woman says that, it always means no."

"Not really."

"99% of the time it does."

"So, there is still 1%."

"Statistically insignificant."

"Well, if you don't want any more pictures, I won't even think about it."

"No, you can think about it. Doing it would be even better. And sending them to me would be the best."

"Lol. Okay. But I would have thought the best was getting your hands all over them."

"(GULP!) Yeah, you're right, that would be the best."

"Unless sucking on my hard nipples would get you off more?"

"Now you're just being mean."

"If I had known I was putting you through all this pain over my boobs last year, I would have just shown you."

"You couldn't have known."

"I'll guess I'll know for the future."

"I'd appreciate you keeping that in mind. So, what are your plans for the weekend?"

"Work tomorrow."

"Do you still work downtown at that hair/nail/waxing/tanning place?"

"Yeah. Did you think I was too dark last year? I get freebies, you know."

"I don't remember thinking that, so probably not. You might have seemed dark in late winter and early spring when the rest of us were turning back into pale ghosts. Better than an orange spray tan."

"Lol."

"So... uh... do you wear anything while you tan?"

"That would leave tan lines. Who wants that?"

"I see... or rather, I want to see, but will settle for the dirty thoughts I'm imagining right now."

"Lol."

"And do you just get freebies for tanning or other things as well (he slyly says, turning the conversation from Door's boobs to a lower region of her anatomy that he is now wondering if it is waxed smooth)?"

"Ouch, and no way would I ever let the people I work with see, much less touch, that."

"That's understandable. So, it's the full-blown 70s bush for you then?"

"Lol. No."

"Not going to tell me what your pubic hair situation is, are you?"

"No. Would you tell me how hairy your balls are?"

"Hmm..., well maintained."

"Lol. I like that. I am also 'well maintained'."

"Sexy. So, what are you going to do to pick up a guy this weekend when you're not working?"

"Nothing. Go without."

"Wrong answer. Try again. What are your friends doing?"

"I don't have any friends."

"Liar. Where's the Whore at these days?"

"Around. I guess my life isn't going how I thought it would."

"Join the club. It's just you, me, and everybody else in the World."

"Lol. Okay. I'll trust you."

"It's true. How old are you?"

"Nineteen. My birthday is in November, so not long until twenty."

"Good god, you're younger than I thought."

"Really? How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

"You're old."