11 was an odd number; it reminded Freshman Jorge of his unhappiness. He longed to make it even.
As he laid out all 11 panties, he saw each girl in front of him, naked and bruised, struggling to get up from the floor. In his revelry they were abducted from their rooms, those who used to smile at him and those who did not, dragged by their hair across the hallway's harsh carpet. He had them tied up like Christmas gifts.
"Better find a wheelchair to lie in, once I'm done with all of you..."
Jorge had collected panties from every girl on his floor except one.
That despicable bible chick at the end of the hallway. The tag on her door said "Mckenzie." Every week her whiteboard had some inspirational bullshit from her good book. "Do the right thing!"
She had dark hair and dark eyes but was very pale and not much taller than a garbage bin. Not terrible-looking, but certainly undatable, unless those granny clothes were taken off her little body.
He saw Mckenzie around campus with some other freaks harassing people with their cheap pamphlets. "Dangers of abortion." "Your body is a temple." "A celibate love." Jorge cringed. Who still believed in craps like that?
But the truth was, Jorge wouldn't have hated Mckenzie as much if she'd not always locked her door.
No one else locked their door around here. It was a good college and no one stole things. No one even shut the doors, just leaving them ajar. That way one got more airflow, and also avoided the inevitable loud slamming.
Except for Mckenzie. Jorge constantly heard that door slamming from the end of the hallway. So did everyone else. There was even an email complaining about it. But she hardly gave a shit for others, despite of her pretense. The slamming continued.
Until one day.
Jorge was on his way to make water when he noticed Mckenzie's door was unlocked. An understatement; it's left open, like a pandora's box beckoning.
He heard showering from women's bathroom. He looked over his shoulder and at her door again. It was late night Friday, the floor's empty, everyone else out partying off campus. Must be her taking the shower then.
Jorge just needed sixty seconds. He had gotten incredibly good at unearthing secrets in a stranger's room. The trick was to go straight for their dirty laundry. No time to search for clean ones stashed away neatly in drawers. That might cause a disorder and they'd find out.
Plus, dirty ones worked better anyway. The rich odor would linger for weeks.
He had no interest to romanticize this woman. Even the idea of it came as a little gross. He just wanted to make up his collection.
He took a head dive and sneaked behind Mckenzie's door.
Jorge felt like entering a convent. Walls stripped all bare apart from a cross over the bed. A brick of a book laid flat on the desk next to a mug of coffee. No immediate sign of her laundry though.
He searched the wardrobe. The scarcity of colors there was predicable. He opened the drawers near bed and saw the neatly stacked chaste white panties.
This would do, he thought, though he was a bit disappointed by the lack of variety. He went for the bottom of the stack then felt something else lying; a peculiar object. He took it out.
A purple dildo! With a curve and a smaller branch on top to spice things up. Gotcha, you little slut! Jorge found himself shaking with excitement.
He inspected it. There was a button. He pressed out of curiosity and nearly jolted; the vibration was so strong it swung out of his grip. On the floor the toy moved like a big worm, its buzzing sound filled the room.
Suddenly Jorge heard someone humming a tune in the hallway.
Shit, Mckenzie's back.
He scrambled to close the drawer, grabbed the vibrating dildo, and hid under her bed. He made it stop just before she pushed open the door.
Jorge watched the girl's small feet in slippers shuffling in. She put down her shower bucket and moved around the room to perform her little rituals before bed. He stayed still. Then she turned off the light and came kneeling by her bed.
Jorge stopped breathing. He smelled a pleasant coconut scent that must be from her body wash. Mckenzie began praying.
"Help me forgive myself, my Lord, just as I ask for forgiveness from you. For I have sinned again today. I let my mind wander in ways I know are not right. It shames me to recount my thoughts, but I endeavor to be completely honest with you my Lord, so lend me strength and peace..."
In Jorge's astonishment she began to tell her fantasies in such vivid details that he was soon stiff in his pants. The tales seemed to have affected the girl herself. Her voice became weak and unsteady, and finally ceased.
He heard the bedside drawer open and clothes' soft rustling. She was looking for her dildo. He grabbed the missing item tight in his hand, afraid that she might start a search.
After a brief effort the girl cursed and stood up. She didn't turn the light back on. He heard her weight pressing against the mattress. She was in bed.
Now Jorge wondered how he'd get himself out. Maybe she'd sleep like a corpse and he could sneak out. He would need to be very careful about opening the door, for it was locked again.
The Mckenzie girl turned out to be a poor sleeper. She was constantly tossing about like a caught fish, now on her back, now on her belly, legs kicking against the mattress.
He waited for her to quiet down but it only grew worse.
Perhaps he'd have to stay all night until tomorrow. He agonized in the darkness. You got what you deserve, idiot. He'd be exposed. He'd be expelled. His name would be all over the local news.
Then Jorge heard something else. At first he thought the girl was crying. Then it got louder, her breathing came out in ragged gasps. Accompanying it was a watery noise, a gentle rhythmic splatter.
It took him a few guesses to connect the dots here. By then the bed started to creak, and Mackenzie was in her falsetto.
In darkness Jorge was hard and drooling. His mind began to conceive of an unthinkable deed. It'd be unthinkable one moment ago for him to want Mackenzie, but never was he so close to a girl, and she's inches from him touching herself... There's nothing else he could do. He kicked off his shoes and loosened his pants.
Sounded like she'd just rode another wave. She's quiet now, breathing softly, building for the next momentum.
Like shadow the young man crept out from under the bed. He saw her white panties wrapped around her knees and her arm between her thighs. In an instant he climbed over her.
Before the girl could scream Jorge put his hand over her mouth.
No one's in the dorm tonight. Not one soul would hear her muffled cries. Her legs were kicking, her hands waving and nearly scratching open his face.
"Stop or you'll be sorry." He sounded like a cartoon cast.
He crushed his entire weight upon her, seizing her two wrists and pinning her legs down with his knees.
Mckenzie's struggles ceased. She must have realized it was a hopeless fight. In the darkness he felt her wide open eyes staring at him in fear. She was waiting for what could come next.
All Jorge heard was the thumping of his own heart. He had a naked girl under him and suddenly didn't know what to do. He thought of grabbing the pillow and smothering her, but the morbid idea made him shiver. He felt her breathing on his throat and in the confusion took one of her hands by wrist and guided it towards his groin.
The moment her fingers touched him she shrieked and nearly bolted away. He persisted. She was sobbing in irregular pattern. Then her fingers found their way back. Soon she grasped him whole, though it was only a gentle grasp, as if afraid to break what she held.
He gave out a sigh because it felt good. A woman's touch was softer and colder.
Then Mckenzie's hand locked around him and applied pressure with an earnest that surprised Jorge. In her tight grasp he grew even harder. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her down to him.
He was rubbing against her in all the wrong places, like a blind man playing darts. A little too north, a little too south. Like those one of the alleyways you needed to turn into but kept driving past by.
But that seemed to have made her feel good. Emm. Emm. She uttered as if to affirm an earlier statement. She had been very quiet, but he still remembered how she moaned earlier. He could feel she was very wet even on the outside.
Finally he found the right entrance. It was like slipping into a warm sweater on a snow day. He held the girl close and pushed further inroad. He had no idea if she's virgin, but she was tight, even when well lubricated. He had to proceed gingerly or it'd hurt.
After a while her passage loosened up somewhat.
