I reluctantly left my bedroom, and unsure of how long they wanted me gone for, I headed down to the equipment room. After I had tidied up in there, I cleaned the women's locker room, and generally busied myself, until Erica finally texted me, that I could return to my room.
The girls had made quite a mess of my room, having consumed two bottles of wine between them. Also, judging by the pile of clothes on my bed, Irene had tried on everything in her suitcase, before deciding what to wear for her night on the town. I cleaned up after them, hanging Irene's clothes up in my small closet. I waited up as long as I could, but ended up going to bed just before midnight. I left a night-light on so that Irene could find her way into my bed, when she got home.
It took me a long time to fall asleep, the thought of Irene making out with another man driving me crazy with jealousy. In the middle of the night, they stumbled into my room, Erica, Irene and some random guy. I knew Irene had a low tolerance for alcohol, and as I heard her slurring her words, I could tell that she was drunk.
"Just let me get rid of my roommate, Laurent," Irene said with a giggle.
As soon as I heard her address him as "Laurent," I knew who they had brought home. Laurent Pascal was a French student, in his final year of his Master's program in economics. Well known on campus as a Lothario, he was in his mid-twenties, well-groomed, and a good-looking, athletic man. In addition to being articulate and intelligent, he also helped run the fledgling Lacrosse program, having spent time on the East Coast of the USA, in a prestigious preparatory college.
There was a rumor that he enjoyed an ongoing sexual relationship with the twins, and they made no attempt to dispel it, as any association with Laurent would only increase their notoriety on campus. I was pissed off that Erica had brought this stud back to my room, and I got out of my bed to assess Irene's level of intoxication. Even in the half-light of my bedroom, illuminated as it was by the night-light, I could tell that Irene was drunk. She was giggling and hanging all over the French guy, and she was dressed far more provocatively than I had ever seen her. As the three of them collapsed in a heap on my bed, Erica told me to beat it.
As I struggled to throw my clothes on, I heard the sounds of passionate kissing. I knew that Erica was promiscuous, having spent many hours jerking off to her social media accounts, that were full of pictures of her partying and hooking up with various older men. However, I hadn't expected her to go to a local college bar, pick up a well-known stud, and bring him back to my room.
The kissing continued, a frantic, passionate make-out session, that if it continued, was leading to sex. As I headed for the door, unsure of where I was going to sleep, Erica spoke.
"Here are your car keys, Oscar. I parked your Honda in Student Lot C," she informed me, thus answering any questions about where I was sleeping that night.
"Laurent will take good care of Irene. Now beat it, you pussy," she said derisively, emboldened by the alcohol.
My heart sank, as I realized that the kissing had continued the entire time that Erica had been talking. Apparently, it was Irene who was sucking face with the campus Lothario, her low tolerance for alcohol stoking her libido, and affecting her judgement.
I reluctantly left the room, pausing for a few moments outside my door to see if I could hear anything. I listened to the muffled sounds of giggling and whispering that, in college dorms, typically precede sex, and then I dragged myself away.
I endured a fitful night in my beat-up Honda, and was up at 5am waiting for some kind of message that invited me to return to my bedroom. Around seven-thirty, Erica texted me.
"Oscar, you may come home now. Pick up some croissants from the French bakery on the way. The three of us are starving."
Jealousy does not begin to describe the emotions I was feeling, as I stopped by the French bakery before heading home. I couldn't believe the balls on Laurent, spending the night with Irene, then hanging out in the morning, as her boyfriend brought him some pastries to remind him of home. I hadn't got a good look at him the night before, although even in the dim illumination of the night-light, I could tell he was much bigger than I was. He was athletic too, his powerful build honed from years of playing competitive Lacrosse. He was a fully grown man, whereas my physical development was ongoing.
I calmed down as I walked from the Student Parking Lot to my house, deciding not to engage Laurent physically, but rather to just politely ask him to leave. I felt like a jealous fool when I entered my room and saw Erica, Irene and Jessica sat on my bed, chatting excitedly about the events of last night. I gave Irene a kiss on the forehead, and she looked up at me with a smile. She looked very relaxed, glowing almost, as she thanked me for the croissants.
"Did Laurent leave?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.
"Laurent is never around in the morning," Erica said wistfully. "He is a busy guy."
After breakfast, Erica and Jessica informed me that they were going to take Irene on a tour of the City, and they asked me where I had parked the car. I told them and they left shortly afterwards, leaving their breakfast plates and coffee mugs for me to deal with. After I had done the dishes, I went to make my bed.
As I pulled back the sheets, I noticed two pairs of panties had been left there. A smile crossed my face as I remembered how the twins would leave their silky panties for me, back when they were trying to ensnare me. The smile quickly disappeared as I recognized that one of the pairs belonged to Irene. At least, I thought they did. We didn't live together, and didn't combine our laundry, so I couldn't be one hundred percent sure. However, they were the same brand and size, medium, as Irene's favored underwear, so I strongly suspected that they were hers.
As I picked up the Victoria's Secret thong, I noticed that the crotch was slick with her vaginal secretions. Whatever Laurent had got up to last night with my girlfriend, had made her cream her panties. I recognized the other pair as Erica's, both by sight and scent. Over the months that the twins had tormented me with their panties and the photos, I had seen most of their underwear, and this tiny silky g-string, was definitely Erica's.
I picked them up to sniff the intoxicating scent, but as they neared my nose, I noticed semen in the crotch. Apparently, Laurent had got balls-deep inside the young Czech girl last night, in addition to making my girlfriend cream her panties. I felt my jealousy rise within me again, although there was nothing that I could do about it. I had given my blessing to Irene expanding her sexual horizons, and had to live with the consequences of that.
I ended up having to wash all of my bedding, as there were lots of dried secretions on my sheets, and inexplicably, on my pillow. I knew that the latter was intentional. Erica had either jerked Laurent off onto my pillow, or squatted above it after he came inside her, just to fuck with me.
Later on that day, as I was leaving the library, after catching up on some reading material for an upcoming theory test I was giving the girls, I saw Laurent holding court by the fountain. He was surrounded by about a dozen jocks, mostly his teammates from the University Lacrosse program. They were listening intently to his bullshit stories, and after deciding that I wanted a closer look at this guy, I sauntered down to the fountain, and sat a few yards away with my books, just within earshot.
He had evidently finished his latest fabrication, because it was question time among his fanboys. As they asked him about his time in the United States, and his prospects of playing Lacrosse professionally there, in the well-developed leagues of the East Coast, the conversation turned to his love-life. It seemed like his favorite phrase was "a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," but after much insistence from his crew of admirers, he did admit a couple of things.
"I fucked Erica again," he said to a roar of approval from his crew. "Although the other twin wasn't there this time. She was with a cute redhead who doesn't go to school here."
"Did you fuck her too, Laurent?" someone asked enthusiastically.
"Not a chance," he admitted freely. "She is a virgin, waiting for her wedding day," he added, to a chorus of boos.
