It was spring break.
Out of the twelve inhabitants of our two dorm suites, only the two of us remained.
And that was okay. We had plans.
Three glorious days to ourselves, once our roommates had gone, and the freedom to enjoy one another without the sideways knowing glances of those around us.
We had met the previous fall; he was a sophomore and I was a freshman. Our initial relationship had been one of simple chatter, a bit of teasing and ribbing, some coerced tutoring. Without him, I never would have passed my engineering classes, let alone gotten A's.
Then had come a school dance, and he had surprised me by asking me to be his date. We had barely talked the entire evening, we were so nervous, but a short week later had gone to see a movie. That night had ended with a brief, awkward kiss. I never was entirely sure if it had been a kiss or an accidental meeting of faces.
The following night we had talked for hours, parting only because I needed to study for final exams. His declaration of love had floored me, and repeating it back had been as natural as breathing. He had left me after a deep, passionate kiss and when the door slammed shut behind him, I had promptly neglected my textbooks and retired to my room to pleasure myself while I imagined his cock fucking me, sliding in and out of my virginal pussy...
In a completely tender and respectful manner, of course.
Two months of heavy petting, mutual masturbation and promises followed. Long nights talking, touching, tasting, discovering one another and ourselves and trying desperately to obey the puritanical teachings of our parents. At least in theory.
Hormones prevailed, and now was our chance for more.
A trip to Safeway enabled me to create a semi-home-cooked meal. All using the microwave in my lounge, which one of my suitemates refused to let the rest of us use as none of us helped pay the rent on it. When the cat's away...
