"Of all the low things guys can do, this has got to be the worst!" my roommate, Heather stormed as she slammed the door of our dorm room.
I was lying across my bed, already in my pajamas, studying for a trigonometry test. Some people think I'm kind of a nerd since I'm studying to be a math teacher. I'm tall with brown hair, brown eyes, and I wear glasses. I have a good figure but I hide it under loose shirts and baggy dresses. It's hard to get taken seriously in a "man's career" when you have a pair of perfect size D breasts, a slim waist and curvy hips with slender thighs tapering to trim ankles that look pretty damn good in the 3 inch stiletto heels I wear for very special occasions! I found out pretty fast after I developed that men equate breast size with IQ. Since most math teachers are men, covering up works best for me. I don't get patronized nearly as much as some of my curvy counterparts do in class.
Now Heather is a real cutie! Short, blonde, nice figure, very outgoing and personable, she is well liked by both the girls on our floor and the guys she meets. She had a boyfriend within a week of her arrival from Indiana. I can only assume it is that same boyfriend who has her in such a lather.
Abandoning my books, I rolled over and sat up wrapping my arms around my legs as I watched her stomping around the room. Her face was flushed, her short, blonde hair looked like someone had been running their fingers through it. She kept brushing her hands down the sides of her hips as she paced back and forth between our beds.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Everything!" she fumed. "I do absolutely everything for him and he does nothing for me!" she continued to rage, still leaving me clueless as to what Greg had done.
I waited to see if she would elaborate and finally she drew in a deep calming breath and stopped pacing. She went to the end of her bed and jerked her t-shirt off. I'm shy and prefer to dress in private but Heather has no such inhibitions. She had begun parading around naked in front of me from the day we moved in. I was used to it by now and it didn't bother me. I had checked her out, just as I'm sure she had looked me over once I got used to the idea that it was "just us girls" and the world wouldn't end if I happened to appear naked in front of my roommate. I knew she liked guys and she knows I do to so it was never with the idea of anything happening between us. Little did I know that was all about to change.
When her shirt came off and she bent over to retrieve her pajama top from the floor, her breasts swung free. The nipples were bright red and looked moist somehow even though I knew they couldn't be. Her nipples are normally a light pink color. They were swollen looking and hard. She unbuttoned her jeans and stepped out of them after kicking her shoes off into the corner. I couldn't seem to stop staring at her breasts, even when she stood up and caught me looking at her.
"Yeah," she said. "Look what he did to me," she moved one hand across her breasts to emphasize the point, even though I still didn't understand. Lifting the nightshirt up over her head arched her back and those twin points poked out as her shirt slid down over them. She almost seemed to moan at the delicate friction of the fabric across the erect tips. She raked her fingers through her hair and gave a little hop so she landed near the top of her bed with her legs crossed.
She patted the space beside her. "Leave your books for one damned minute and come talk to me," she said. I was almost done studying anyway so I got up and sat cross-legged on the bed facing her.
"Does Rick satisfy you?" she asked as soon as I was settled.
"Uh, what do you mean?" I kind of stammered, a little embarassed. I was beginning to figure out what her problem was. Rick Sanchez is the gorgeous, Hispanic, 22 year-old student I had begun seeing a month ago. Everyone hears how good Latin lovers are supposed to be and Rick had the looks for it, but he didn't have the talent, at least not yet.
"You know, does he make you climax? Has he given you an orgasm?"
"Um, I, uh, well, no," I admitted, my head dropping as if this was my fault.
"What is it with these guys?" she asked, continuing on without waiting for me to answer. "We do everything for them. Do they think this is all about them?" She paused to look at me.
"I don't know." I was just going with the flow and figured she'd get to her point a lot quicker if I didn't offer an opinion.
"I gave Greg a blowjob tonight." She stopped and watched my face which probably turned red. I was kind of fascinated by where this conversation was going and immediately got a mental picture of her little bow of a mouth spread wide and a nice, fat, hard cock going in and out of it. I could feel my own breasts getting tight and heat gathering in the pit of my stomach at the image. I hadn't masturbated in several days so it didn't take much to get me going.
"We started off touching each other in the car driving out to the park. When we got there he had my pants open and he kept rubbing his fingers against me, you know?" I nodded my understanding as I pictured his hand cupping the pale blue panties currently displayed between her spread legs. "He got me so turned on. I touched him and took him out of his pants." Another mental picture snapped in my head. The heat moved down to center in the moist core inside my own panties.
"He let me touch him and then he said he wanted to get closer. He leaned my seat back and lifted my shirt and unhooked my bra. I took it off so he could touch my tits." Her eyes were beginning to get a faraway look as she remembered what he had done. She moved her hands down beside her on the bed and unconsciously seemed to arch her back up as her palms pressed flat against the bed. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the twin points poking against her shirt.
"He fondled them and then he leaned over and started kissing my breasts. Does Rick do that?" she asked.
"Yeah," I answered, my tongue coming out to wet my suddenly dry lips. "He never does it for as long as I want him to though," I admitted.
"Greg either," she eagerly agreed, "Except tonight he did. He leaned over me and sucked my left nipple into his mouth. I grabbed his head and held it there. He licked it and sucked on it and every time he tried to stop, I wouldn't let him. It felt so good." I watched, completely mesmerized as her left hand lifted and cupped her breast. I don't think she even knew what she was doing when she pinched her nipple through her shirt.
"When he tried to stop I told him it felt so good," she went on. "I even pulled him over so he could reach the right side. Oh, Kylie, he sucked on them for so long," she almost moaned at me.
I couldn't help being turned on by her words. I was picturing what she was saying and at the same time, imagining my boyfriend doing that to me. I could feel my pussy getting wet, the inner folds swelling with need. My breasts were tight and my own nipples were as hard as hers.
"You saw what he did to me. Just look," she demanded as she lifted the tail of her shirt so I could see her breasts again. They were displayed before me, the delicate veins a faint blue beneath the plump whiteness of her skin. Her nipples were still elongated and red from the suckling they received from Greg. As I watched, she lifted one out toward me and demanded I touch it as proof of what she said. My hand lifted almost of its own accord, and I touched her, but I didn't stop. It was as if someone else were in control of my hand. I cupped her breast and brushed my thumb across the tight peak. Her hand fell away but I continued to hold her, my thumb playing across the nipple, pushing it up and then pressing it down.
"Can you imagine how hot I was, Kylie? My breasts have always been the most sensitive part of me. I was so turned on and Greg was, too."
"Yeah, I can see how you would be," I stammered upon realizing I was still caressing her. I quickly pulled my hand back and pressed both hands together into the space between my crossed legs, hoping she wouldn't make a big deal out of my having touched her that way.
"Then, he moved his hand down over me, into my panties." Her eyes were hot as she looked into mine and continued her story. "He rubbed the outside of my pussy and then he poked a couple fingers in me, you know how guys do," she kind of laughed.
"Yes," I agreed. I was beginning to figure out where her story was going. Greg had not satisfied her and she was not happy about it. "They think a couple of fingers shoved in us is all they have to do," I continued. "Never mind that we have other parts that need attention." I laughed with her.
"Have you ever come home from a date with Rick with a hard-on that won't quit?" she asked. I must have looked a little puzzled at her word choice since we don't have cocks. "You know what I mean," she said watching my expression. "With your clit hard and an ache that needs satisfied right here," she continued as she arched her back and pressed her fingers against the top of her pussy mound. When she arched her back that way, it pressed her pussy up against her panties and I saw a bump in the fabric. I wondered what it was, even as she slowly pushed her fingers down over it until she was holding herself in the palm of her hand.
My breath was coming faster as I imagined how good it would feel to touch my own pussy. There was no doubt we were both aroused, her by what Greg had done, and me by her words. The air was beginning to take on the scent of aroused womanhood. I felt my hips pressing forward so my pussy was pushing against my pajama bottoms and her bed. My hands were balled into fists just a scant inch away from the wetness of my slit.
Her hand rubbed up and down over her pussy a couple of times before she released it. I could see a damp spot between her legs and knew she must be incredibly turned on. She lifted her nightshirt all the way up and off as I stared at her crotch. She lowered herself back against her pillows and arched her hips up to a more comfortable position as she continued her story.
"He ran his fingers in and out a few times and even bumped my clit a couple of times but never touched it on purpose. Do you think they don't know we have clits?" she asked.
"I, um, maybe not," I answered, my embarrassment continuing as I tried not to imagine what her pussy looked like under her panties. My fingers itched with the need to touch myself.
"Greg's gotta know I have one," she continued rather cryptically.
"Uh, yeah," I agreed although I wasn't sure what she meant.
"So I stroked him while he was touching me. Then he said he wanted to try something. So he pulled me up and pulled the seat up and got out of the car."
"Okay," I encouraged her.
"He came around to my side of the car and opened my door. There was no one else around. He parked back from the rock, you know?"
