The sight of us, I'm sure, was a little hard to take. Two tall, beautiful, tanned blonde girls, lying on a blanket in our bikinis, sunbathing, reading, talking, laughing. It was so hot out that October (in the San Francisco Bay area, the temperatures can shoot up into the 90s), that we couldn't help it. And, by the end of our first month as roommates, we were having sex.
It began innocently enough. Anya was a friend of a friend. She moved into my dorm room when my previous roommate, a friend from high school, decided to transfer to her boyfriend's small Catholic school in the Midwest. My friend Sandy knew a girl from her modeling days in Japan who needed a roommate. Anya moved in with her expensive luggage, expensive sheets and pillows and scented candles, which she seemed to have lit at all hours. She had the longest, shapeliest legs I've ever seen, and a body to match. And the mouth on her! I couldn't believe the things that would pop out of her mouth sometimes; she was willing to talk about almost anything, no matter how private or embarrassing.
I barely saw her those first few weeks. We lived in an L-shaped room, which meant that our beds were about five feet apart, so I knew when she was sleeping there and that was seldom.
She had a boyfriend off-campus. Carlo, a rich Eurotrash guy she'd met in New York. I guess he was a student as well, when he did visit the room he didn't stay long; it seemed as if his apartment was her home and our room was a place for her to store her clothes and her strap-on. I found it accidentally one day when she let me borrow a dress. We were the same size, more or less, and I needed something to wear to a party. She let me go through her closet and when I dropped a skirt and picked it up I discovered a leather harness resting on top of a pile of shoes.
"What's this?" I asked.
She grabbed it from me and put it behind her back. "Nothing," she said.
I reached for it. She stepped back. "Come on," I said.
"It's just my harness."
"Your harness?"
"My strap-on." She dangled it in front of me. "Here."
I took it from her and examined it. It was made of a soft black leather and had straps on both sides. In the front was a ring.
"What's the ring for?" I asked.
"The dildo. Let me show you."
She went to her closet and opened a drawer where she kept her underwear and pulled out a long white dildo. She handed it to me and took the strap-on. I held the dildo in my hand, not sure what to do. It had the shape and texture of a penis and felt nice and warm. "It's made of silicone," she said. "Let me show you."
She put the harness on and strapped it around her legs. Then she attached the dildo and stood in front of me. "See?" She said.
I sat down on my bed and stared at her.
"I don't wear it like this," she said. "With shorts and a T-shirt."
"How do you wear it?"
"I'm usually naked."
I blushed. She looked incredibly sexy with it on. "With Carlo?"
"No."
"Then why do you have it?"
"I use it to fuck other girls."
I must have turned beet red at that moment, because she laughed. "You knew that, didn't you?" She said.
I thought about it for a moment. There was one time about a week before when I saw this beautiful woman leave the room. She seemed slightly disheveled when she walked by. Anya said that she was in her theater class. I found out that she was an R.A. on another floor."
"That R.A.?"
"Yeah, and a couple of others."
She took the strap-on off and threw it on her bed and sat down.
"Here?"
"The R.A. I fucked here, the others at Carlo's, sometimes."
"He watches?"
"Sometimes. We had a threesome with this dancer we met at a strip club. She's going for her master's in psychology. After we fucked though, it turned out that she had a class with Carlo and that he'd set the whole thing up!"
"No way!"
"I was really pissed at him at first, but then she called me to apologize and I wound up going to her apartment and we had sex without Carlo, so it's okay now."
I looked at her lying on the bed next to mine, smiling, barefoot, her beautiful long legs, her breasts pressing against her tight little T-shirt. Her big blue eyes. I'd never really thought about sleeping with a girl before. Not really. But If I did, it would have to be someone like Anya.
"So have you?" Anya asked.
"What?"
"Ever been with a girl?'
"No."
"It's fun," she said. "Jill, the dancer was amazing. Amazing body. Really soft skin. And she loves to eat pussy."
"Anya!"
"Sorry." She sat up on her bed and crossed her legs. "I guess I should go. I have a class in fifteen minutes. But you think about it, okay?"
"About what?"
"You know."
"What?"
She didn't answer, but I knew what she was hinting at. After she left the room I masturbated, thinking about everything she'd said. I felt closer to her, and she made more sense to me, but where would it all lead? I thought about the strap-on. I almost took the dildo out of her closet and put it inside me, but I resisted. I just played with my clit and had an amazing orgasm, alone in my bed.
I didn't see her that week except for one afternoon when it was so hot out that she persuaded me to go sunbathing with her on the lawn behind the dorm. We walked down in our robes and bikinis, and laid down together on one of her expensive cotton blankets. I'd rubbed suntan lotion on my body before we left, but Anya went out without any. After about an hour, I insisted that she put some on.
"No way," She said.
"You're going to burn," I said.
"Okay," she said. "But only if you put it on."
"Sure," I said.
I took out my lotion and spread it around her back and neck. Then I rubbed it on her arms and legs. I seemed to be causing something of a stir. Anya lifted her legs up and I could feel the stares coming from the other blankets. Guys walked by and stopped and watched. Anya turned around and laid on her back and made me rub lotion on her belly, posing like she was on a magazine cover, or a swimsuit video. When I was finished, she lifted up her sunglasses and smiled. "We put on quite a show, didn't we?"
Another week went by and I didn't see her at all. She had a couple of papers due and she'd been staying at Carlo's every night; working on it. And then suddenly she was back; staying the weekend while Carlo went back to Italy for a wedding.
"Why didn't you go?" I asked.
"I wasn't invited."
"Why not?"
"His family. They're really rich and stuck-up. They want him to marry this girl in Italy that he's known since he was a kid."
"Will he?"
"Probably. I didn't want to think so but he really is a Mama's boy."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I think I'm over him anyway."
So on that Friday night, we stayed in together. Anya ordered in some pizza and we watched some bad '80s movies on TV in our pajamas. She told me a little about her modeling days, but not much. It seemed like she wanted to forget that part of her life and move on. She brought out a bottle of wine that she'd taken from Carlo's apartment and we got a little drunk. She must've sensed that I was a little nervous around her because she said I looked tense. She offered to give me a massage, which made me even more nervous.
"It's okay," she said. "I'll just loosen up your back and shoulders."
"Okay."
I lay down on her bed and she began to massage my shoulders. She obviously knew what she was doing. She started with my neck and went all the way down my spine, making sure to work all sides, and I felt really good when she was done. After that I stayed in her bed for a while and watched TV and cuddled. It just felt right, and she didn't make a move on me, so I didn't feel nervous or uncomfortable. When I left the bed to sleep on my own we gave each other a good night kiss on the lips and then giggled.
It was the next night when things got out of control.
Anya got up early the next morning to go work out at the gym. I slept in, only to be woken up by a phone call from Sandy. It hadn't spoken to her since Anya moved in. She sounded far away.
"Hey!" She said. "How are you?"
"Okay," I said. "Where are you?"
"London."
"What are you doing there?"
"The usual. Trying to keep my career afloat. How's Anya?"
"She's good. She just went to the gym."
"Sounds like her."
