College Chronicles Ep 01

It was the first day of freshman year of college. Dropped off in front of my dorm, I looked up at the massive, ivy-covered structure, ropes of vines hanging from embellished rooves. It was impressive—as impressive as the reputation of the school I had barely squeaked into. It had an old, famous name—you probably already know it. And I was here on the first day, from so close but so far away. The building towered in front of me, intimidating but irresistible. I leaned forward and indulged.

**

My name is Sam. I'm going to tell you about what happened to me in college.

I was over 18, and I consented to everything I'm going to tell you. Eventually.

**

In freshman year, I had a muscular but slight build; muscles tight from swimming, which I'd competed in. My hair was light brown—but the ends had been bleached by constant exposure to chlorine in pools, and I had let it grow out until it looked nearly like a short pixie-cut. I had hit puberty late in high school, and when it came, I didn't experience the ridiculous transformation my parents had assured me would come. I stopped at 5'6", and still with slim shoulders. Worst of all, I barely grew any body hair, and I had what a doctor had once called "medically... a small penis." I was mercilessly mocked by the other boys for my hairless chest and flat bulge in gym class locker rooms. I have light brown eyes, and people have always commented on my angular facial structure—plus my facial symmetry... my attractiveness. Perhaps it's big-headed, but I'd always been told I could model... before people saw that my personality would never suit that sort of thing.

I'm an awkward person. And not in a cute way, like some people in movies might be. Not a quirky-endearing way, just an awkward, hard-to-talk-to way. When I was young, I had a stutter, and before I got rid of it, I had learned to deal with it by simply clamming up and not talking at all. Combined with my niche interests, and a natural habit towards saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, all the time, I simply fucked up most relationships well before people could get to know the real me. I hoped.

The few friends I made weren't close, and we all went our different ways after high school. And I was looking forward to college as a new start. A chance for me to put my good looks to use! Separate myself from the boring, shy me; start a fresh identity with better friends and better memories than high school.

I was partially right, at least.

Walking up the grand stone steps into the dorm "quad" and stepped through the gate, I was again impressed by the appearance of my new home. It looked grand and stately, yards stretching out and redbrick walls covered in ivy penning them in. I had seen pictures on brochures and online tours, but I hadn't been able to schedule a visit before now, even though I had lived in the same state. It was exclusive, elite, prestigious. I was already worried I didn't belong. But other students walking around the campus reassured me, most looking lost, or a bit intimidated as well.

It must have taken me a half hour, but eventually found my room in the maze of hallways and stairwells that made up the inside of the houses. Every wall was the same shade of white, and the walls and doors blended until you couldn't tell where you'd been and where you needed to go.

Finally, I found it. Room 001. I wondered for the first time, why was the room 001 a student room? But it matched the number on the key I had been issued at the arriving student tent, so I went ahead and opened the door.

I had no idea what I was in for.

I walked into the room and was greeted by an unexpected sight, to say the least. The room was big—bigger than any individual room in my old house. The walls were a dark white and crossed with thick beams of wood that gave the room the same sense of austere importance as the outside of the dorms. I had always heard that dorms were small rooms, so I was stunned by the space; but that wasn't the unexpected sight.

On both sides of the room, there were beds placed in identical curves in the walls. Past each bed was a matching desk, and a treadmill, a bench-press, and a squat rack. Past those a broad bay window opened to a grand view of the "quad" lawn. In front of the window sat a corner couch, facing a massive TV set into the wall. But all that wasn't what arrested me in the doorway.

At one of the desks there had been a tower PC installed—in my shock at what I saw next, I didn't even register at first that it was probably the most impressive PC I'd ever seen. But even that wasn't the sight.

In a black reclining chair, a man sat with his back to the door. I couldn't see his face or his body, but by the arms and legs, I figured he was naked. A clearly stark-nude girl kneeled before him, loudly sucking his dick.

*Gluck gluck gluck*

Her blonde ponytail was coming undone as the girl bobbed up and down on the man's cock, which I now realized must be huge, for me to see as much of the girl as I was seeing. And she could have seen me, except for the fact that her big, beautiful blue eyes were glued to the man's face, as she worshipped the cock in her mouth. Bright pink nails—matching her painted pink lips—flashed into sight as she stroked quickly, and I could see long strands of spit dripping from her mouth where it was suctioned around his thick tool. They fell from her mouth to her perfect chest, pert nipples standing at attention and bouncing in rhythm with her head. The man in the chair leaned back slightly and put his hands on either side of her head, now guiding her as he face-fucked her, their eyes still locked and her beautiful face overcome with the mess he had made and the sheer expression of lust she was as she welcomed inches of his fat member. She gagged loudly and repeatedly, squealing in delight as he used her like a fuck toy. Despite the speed at which he was pistoning her, the spit that hung from her mouth, and her moans of whorish pleasure, I recognized her. It was Aurora.

**

In high school, I had never had luck with girls, despite my handsomeness. I was simply too awkward—too fumbling socially every conversation came to a grinding halt, especially with the opposite sex, who I could never find the right words with. My friends and I were nerds, into playing dungeons and dragons and a/v equipment, and before I knew I had graduated and still never even had more than a peck on the lips in a drama production. So, when Aurora arrived, transferring into our school in 10th grade, I was excited for the same reason I was excited to go to college—a fresh start with a pretty girl.

After a week of her being there, against the advice of my friends, I had gone up to her in the hallway and asked if she wanted someone to show her around the school. She had given me a stare so cold I froze, stammering stupidly, before my bully, Max, had sauntered up, shoved me into a locker, and locked it closed. Before giving her a kiss. They were dating already.

It took 30 minutes for a teacher to get me out, and by then my shame had spread around the school. I can still remember her giggling as Max playfully groped her while I watched them through the grate of the locker. We never spoke again.

She had been pretty in 10th grade, and by the time she hit 18, she was gorgeous. She graduated with a long neck, longer legs, and a thin and toned athletes' body. She had medium sized breasts—not big, but large enough. She wasn't just looks! She was all-state in multiple sports, and head cheerleader, and when she wasn't dominating, she was showing her brains in multiple clubs. She ran the homecoming committee and was elected homecoming queen! Who could blame me for forgiving her for that first impression, drooling over her on the field, dreaming about her at home?

When I found out that she was accepted to the same college I was going to, I had mixed feelings. On one hand, my clean start was a little muddied. On the other, maybe this was my chance to finally reintroduce myself, show her how I had changed from that first encounter.

**

"Awwww yeah bitch—I'm gonna fuckin' cover you in my cum."

I was still frozen—speechless at what was happening in front of me. To whom it was happening to. My crush. My angel. Not just soiled, filthy. Worshipping cock like a woman addicted, dolled up like a hooker. I could barely reconcile this sex-demon with the girl I had known from afar in high school.

The man groaned and leaned back farther in his chair, pulling his cock out of Aurora's mouth and up into sight. It popped from her lips with a porn-worthy sound effect, and she whimpered as he pulled her favorite toy from her grasp. The head was SO big and thick and purple, angry and indecent. Strands of spit stretched from it to Aurora's lips. I had never watched much pornography, and only the most vanilla things you can imagine, so it was the biggest dick I had ever seen. I was stunned yet again, speechless. Horrified and disgusted by the obscene sight, but also eyes glued, mouth wide. I couldn't help but think of my own pathetic penis; how could Aurora ever even consider me when she had already had this?

"Fuckin'—take it—all—slut!"

Suddenly the head bucked, and a strand of white hot cum flew from his cock in an arc that landed on Aurora's now opened mouthed, panting face. She yelped in pleasure, and giggled with pure joy before opening her mouth to receive the rest of his load. His huge cock kicked twice, three more times, five, until I stopped counting. Each strand covered Aurora more thoroughly—her hair, her tits, her beautiful face, dripping down to her chest and onto her stomach. It was in her hair, in her thick eyelashes, and leaking out the sides of her mouth as she stayed leaning back, mouth overflowing with hot cum. The man straightened in the chair, moving the cock out of my sight, but now obviously tugging on his dick, emptying every last drop of semen over my Aurora. I could see it dripping onto the floor between her legs. I could hear her laugh, and then...

"MMMMMM!"

She hummed happily, mouth full of cum, and I could see her hands move—one to her nipple, one to her perfect little pussy. The perfect little pussy I had always imagined but was even better than I had thought—and which was dripping onto the floor. She quickly plugged two fingers into herself, before lifting them up to her head, which I still couldn't see. When her hand came back into view, it was obvious that she'd scooped some cum from herself; it dripped even as her hand swung down to her jealous pussy. She put three fingers in this time, all covered in his jizz! She sawed at herself and moaned and squealed loudly, quivering as she came on her dripping fingers.

"Good bitch—you're getting the hang of what I like. I might keep you around!"

He laughed a deep, quick gut laugh, and I was appalled by his own amusement at what I hoped was a bad joke, and Aurora's reaction.

I still couldn't see her, but from her leg movements I saw that she leaned forward, and I heard the now much softer, but still unmistakable, sounds of her licking and fawning over his tool.

I was still speechless, but this final act must have made me react audibly, and all of a sudden Aurora's face came into view around the side of the chair, beautiful even with messy cum strewn hair, running mascara, and ropes of spit and cum hanging from her plump lips, pink lipstick smeared all around her mouth. Her mouth was a perfect o in surprise, and for a brief second, I wished I could stick my dick in her mouth. We both stared at each other for a horrible moment of recognition, before I stammered for a few seconds,

"I... Aur... wha... ... sorry!"

I slammed the door shut and turned my back to it, taking a deep breath and stabilising myself against the heavy wood. Then I jumped, realizing they were still just on the other side. And then I fled, dropping my luggage, and simply running.

**

Hours later, I came slumping back to the room. I had gone to a nearby coffee shop and had a couple drinks, hoping that if I waiting long enough the problem would simply go away. But I knew that wouldn't work, and eventually came to the conclusion that I would have to face them again—I simply couldn't give up and call home for help less than 24 hours into my college experience. In my defence, it would have been no kind of fresh start. I had even left my luggage, stupidly, just sitting outside the door. I hoped it would still be there when I returned, but the hallway was clear when I turned the corner.

I sighed to myself—another disappointment today. After a series of knocks, I slowly opened the door and peeked my head around the corner.

"Hey, is it all clear now?"

There was no sign of Aurora—or the mess she'd been in when I last saw her. Instead, I was surprised to see my luggage unopened, sitting on the unmade bed in the alcove to the opposite side of the room from the desk chair that I struggled to ignore.

"Oh, hey man—haha, yeah, you're all good."

The man from earlier was sprawled on the coach, shirt still off, but now mercifully wearing a pair of gym shorts. I couldn't help but imagine that one of the creases in the shorts was being caused by the weapon he had assaulted Aurora with... but I quickly dismissed that from my mind.

He was a man, even though I assumed he was a freshman. Clearly an athlete—I guessed football correctly, based on his height and defined muscles. He had one of the squarest jaws I've ever seen, nearly super-man looking, and brown hair cut neat and in the fashionable cut with the fades.

He didn't stand up as I came in, just turned to look at me. He surveyed me with piercing grey eyes, then turned back to the tv which was playing some reality show.

"I'm Jaxx. 'Rora told me you're Sam? Come sit down, we've gotta talk."

I cautiously walked over, sitting as far away from Jaxx as I could on the L-shaped couch. He sat quietly, watching the show, not saying a word to me after I sat down. I still remember how time dragged in those first minutes. I was so nervous; I could hardly breathe. Jaxx reminded me so strongly of Max, it was like I was back in that locker. The only time I had spent around guys like this had been cringing away in fear or hoping that I could blend into the wall and their notice would slide right over me. Now I was near one—one that had just destroyed my high school crush.

"So, we're gonna be roommates this year," He eventually said, after what felt like hours. His voice was a deep baritone, strong and clear, and I could tell he was used to being listened to.

Suddenly he stood up, and in one or two measured strides, stood in front of where I was perched on the edge of the couch. He towered over me, and I looked up at him, trying desperately not to let my eyes stray to the gym shorts that were not directly in front of my face.

"Look man... Aurora's sorry you saw that, earlier. She said I have to be extra nice to you now, and she'll talk to you about it later. I'll try not to let it happen again." He smirked at me, and punched me, harder than necessary, in the shoulder.

"Look on the bright side. I may have just face-fucked that dumb bitch so cum drunk she couldn't talk to you, but she won't be the only one. And since you're my roommate, I'll wing man you. Won't be hard, the sluts here are ready to go. Plus, we've got this room—it'll seal the deal for us half the time." He smirked again; a look I would eventually get used to.

"If I'm being honest, I'm kind of the reason you're in this room. My dad's an alumni—gives a lot of money. He told them I'd need a bigger room than most, and they knuckled under, gave me the provost's room. To let these university fucks, save face though, he had to let them put a roommate in here with me." He grinned widely at me, flashing perfect teeth.

"So that's your lucky day. Why don't you get us beers, so we can celebrate the new school year? They're just in the fridge over there."

With a lazy point of his finger to the far corner of the room, he walked back over to his seat on the couch and dropped, immediately refocused on the tv, as if I didn't exist. I sat in silence for a few moments, stunned again that he had spoken so brazenly, especially about Aurora, and still rubbing at my stinging shoulder. Did she know he talked about her like this? Of course she did... he had talked like that to her. After a few dazed seconds, I started, and then walked over to the fridge and grabbing a pair of beer cans. As I placed one in his hands, he was focused on his phone, half watching the show, but barely even noticing me. Not even a thanks.

I walked over to my bed, figuring that if that situation was over, I might as well unpack, and enjoy the admittedly sweet room. Maybe things were looking up. If I could get close with Jaxx, this could really be my new start! As I pulled my luggage off the bed, something bright was underneath. Pink panties—the same colour as Aurora's lipstick and nails. They were still damp and sticky at the crotch. I hoped they had simply been thrown away and forgotten—but I should have known better...