I'm not sure it's entirely fair to say I haven't enjoyed being the girl that nobody ever notices. Take the situation with my roommate, Stacey. Stacey is a classic blonde-haired, blue-eyed 5 ft 5 beauty with a trim athletic build and what I've heard described as "heavy naturals" by one of her not-so-silent admirers. Contrast that to my own 5 ft 1 slender but decidedly not athletic build, barely there chest, midnight skin, and wide dark eyes. I'm sure you start to get the picture. Stacey was not only pretty but, of course, popular and had the good fortune of also coming from one of the wealthier legacy families. So how, pray tell, did she wind up being my (the unremarkable black scholarship kid) roommate?
Now this is where it pays to blend into the background of these people's lives because the people watching was good. Stacey used to live the high life in the most popular sorority house, which, unfortunately for them, got shut down for hazing last semester. As a good-faith PR move, Stacey and a few girls who weren't too heavily implicated in the scandal were condemned to live with the common folk in the dorms. They had to ride out the next school year squeaky clean and scandal-free if they even wanted to have a prayer of salvaging anything from the ashes of their former sorority. So that is how she wound up rooming with lil ole me; I'm Danica, by the way, a little shy, a little weeby but smart if I don't say so myself.
Stacey wasn't a bad roommate. We had a two-bedroom pod with a common area and ensuite shared bath, and having separate sleeping spaces definitely helped in the "not hating each other" department. I had enjoyed this space by my lonesome all of freshman year; I genuinely think they just forgot about me and, therefore, forgot about the space, so it was inevitable that they'd find someone to room with me. I had hoped that we could at least be friends, but that hasn't exactly been the case, and I've been background filler. I do get my moments to shine, though, and add some "urban flavor" to the mix; I've gotten to snap my fingers and go "Mmm Hmmmm" to some of Stacey's relationship drama and nod sagely as I give her advice that she'll only half listen to. Don't worry, guys, I'm cringing too.
She kept her mess to herself (mostly), though when her room door was open, I'd fear we'd get some infestation, which thankfully never materialized. Still, it looked grim in there. It didn't seem to stop any of her visitors, though. I'd had the displeasure of walking in on many a compromising scene, and the girl had no shame. I guess it also didn't hurt that my typical response was to squeak and scurry away, and since I, unfortunately, couldn't afford a good pair of noise-canceling headphones, my little dollar tree ones had to do the best they could.
By far, though, the worst offender in all of this was her boyfriend, Mason. And yes, I do mean boyfriend as in supposedly exclusive partner; however, the word "exclusive" wasn't exactly in either of their vocabularies. I've seen them dabble separately and even together in some exciting configurations and, of course, all of the ensuing drama. I also think Mason was allergic to keeping the door closed, which led to far too many instances of uncomfortable eye contact (only on my part, it seems) as my roommate got railed within an inch of her proverbial life.
Mason, at 6 feet, whatever, was the perfect Ken to Stacey's Barbie. He was tall and athletic because, of course, he was the star quarterback and likely to go pro, blonde-haired and blue-eyed. The man was gorgeous and came from one of THE legacy families; he even had a building with the family name on it. I couldn't say a word in his presence and always had a nasty case of damp thighs when he was anywhere nearby, though any even slightly straight woman would. Many a night, I had consoled my sad self with thoughts of Mason and how he could completely overwhelm me as I silently played with my stiff little clit in the dark. I imagined what it might be like to be on the receiving end of his attention, and from the way I'd seen him toss Stacey around, I had doubts about whether I was built for it. Not that I had a snowball's chance in hell of ever finding out since, well, I was definitely not their "type" and might as well have had no gender. I was such a non-entity to them, and my preferred wardrobe of oversized clothing with cute characters certainly didn't help. Sex vixen, it wasn't giving. So, as the school year began, I got to enjoy the show silently, mainly from the sidelines.
I prayed for winter break to get some peace. I wouldn't be going home, firstly because I couldn't afford it and secondly because my grandmother, the woman who raised me, was now comfortably resting in a nursing home, but it still broke my heart every time we spoke. It had been just her and I since I was five, and my father ran off with my mother, sadly overdosing not long after. She was my rock, and whatever little I made tutoring went towards keeping her in that nursing home. Stacey and company would be off doing whatever rich kids did in the snow, and I got to stay in and watch Anime without my headphones on—pure heaven.
Two days before the break, however, Stacey and Mason got into this huge fight where they "broke up," and she confessed to some seriously messed up shit involving one of his teammates. He had some choice words for her and said he'd be back to collect his shit. I was just happy everyone was still leaving, and on the big traveling day, I literally just sat on the floor and soaked in the silence once everyone was gone. I showered, took a nap, and checked my supplies, and it was a good thing I did because I got an alert that we were in for a pretty nasty snowstorm the next day. So off I went to stock up, and as a snow day treat to myself, I also picked up a discreet clit massager. I wanted to up my solo game for a while but would have been mortified if anyone had heard me engaging in a bit of self-love. However, with the place to myself, I could indulge and worry about hiding it later.
I got back and got comfortable, changed into some loose gray cotton shorts and sports bra, and decided to put everything away and heat the readymade pizza I'd bought. I wouldn't usually be in this space showing this much skin, but this was one of the perks of having it all to myself. I didn't hear the door to Stacey's room open and shut; in hindsight, it should have struck me as weird that it was closed in the first place. I wasn't alerted to a presence in the room until I felt a decidedly warm, decadently firm presence behind me, and, being startled; I let out the most inelegant yelp.
"Chill, Dani, it's just me, Mason!" It sounded like he was whisper yelling to me as I grabbed at my chest and attempted to control my heart rate.
"Mason? What the hell are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be off on break? How the hell did you even get in here?" I was still beside myself and could barely process that he was here at all. Let alone muster up the brain cells to feel nervous about my decided lack of clothes or my usual awkwardness in his presence.
"She's not supposed to do that, or at the very least, she should have told me she gave you a key. Did you get what you came for?" I asked, and I couldn't help but feel pathetic hopefulness that he was all set, and we could end this awkward encounter by him being on his way. The dark chuckle I was met with brought my shy awkwardness back full force, and I suddenly had difficulty making eye contact or stringing sentences together to express my displeasure at his unexpected presence.
"Not quite," he said, adding nothing more to that cryptic statement. I could feel the heat of his eyes on me as I heard the pizza oven on the microwave go off, signaling that my pizza was ready to go. It was with slow reluctance that I turned my back on him, and I was right to be concerned because as soon as I did, I felt the heat of him against my back like a living, breathing wall of lava.
"I like what you're wearing, Dani. It's such a pleasant change from what you usually wear, and it doesn't hurt that I can do this," and with that, I felt him grab the braids at my nape with his left hand while sliding his whole right hand into my top and roughly palming my left breast and pinching my nipple. "Look at that," he damn near growls in my ear, "Nice and tight for Daddy. I think someone's excited." Now whether it was excitement or fear, I couldn't quite decide, but the heat of his very stiff cock damn near stabbing me halfway up my back was enough to spur me into some action, and I attempted to pull away. That's when the hand that tightly gripped my nape transferred to my throat.
"Uh uh uh Dani, none of that. Now you can be a good girl for Daddy, and I will be very nice to this tight little pussy, or you can be naughty and get what naughty girls get," he chuckled darkly, "or maybe you'll get that anyway. These naughty little tits certainly need Daddy's attention." Mason roughly pulled down my top, snapping the thin straps and exposing my modest tits to his rough attention as he proceeded to pinch and pull on my stiff nipples with sadistic glee. I couldn't help it; I wrenched away despite his growled warning and took off toward my room since there was no way I was making it past him and out the front door. However, with his skills as a star athlete, he was on me in seconds. He was spinning me around and slamming my back into my bedroom wall.
He didn't even bother threatening me; he held me up by my arms at a comfortable height for him and proceeded to maul my breasts. He was roughly sucking and biting on my tender nipples until I couldn't decide whether it felt like heaven or pure hell. All I knew was I was shamefully wet and no longer sure I wanted to get away despite the consequences.
"Fuck, these tits are sweet! I knew they would be," he growled, lowering me to the floor, "They'll look amazing clamped; maybe one day we'll get them pierced. We'll see." He kept applying steady pressure to my shoulders until he had me kneeling before him. I couldn't tell you if I was more terrified or excited. I thought about making another break for it but knew there would be no point. The dorm was practically deserted, and there was the sneaky, silent part of me that wanted this. He tilted my chin when I hit the floor, forcing me to make direct eye contact.
