Chapter One
DJ and Brittney made it back to the dorm in the dead of night. Things were good and quiet; many residents wouldn’t return until tomorrow, and by this hour, even the ones who were here were in bed for the night. DJ kissed her goodnight and left her to return to her own room down the hall, crawling into a bed all by himself for the first time in what felt like a very long time.
He didn’t wake up until after noon. Having never liked eating alone (even though it had been a common part of his day-to-day for much of his life), he roused her in the morning to take her to breakfast. Her roommate and fellow hottie Mercedes was back, standing wrapped in a towel after a recent return from the shower. While Brittney got dressed, DJ tugged it down and took a good eyeful. She was as smoking hot as he’d figured; a curvy but lithe Latina built for salsa dancing; he remembered her saying she loved doing so during the introductory floor meeting.
Someday soon he’d need to have her give him a demonstration, once he had a good outfit picked out for it.
“So, like, you guys are a couple now or something?” she asked as he flicked her butt repeatedly, testing its firmness. The question was directed to Brittney, in a tone that sounded like she was asking if Brittney had decided to shave her head.
Brittney smiled at him sweetly. “Yeah, looks like. We had a lot of fun over fall break.”
“I’ll say,” he said, smiling back a moment before helping himself to a caress up and down Mercedes’ smooth, tawny thighs.
Brittney pulled on a pair of comfy black leggings and slid her feet into some comfy boots. “Ready.”
DJ stood up and took a nipple in his mouth, giving a quick suck and nibble before releasing her. “Cool. See ya, Mercedes.”
He opened the door, gallantly letting Brittney out first; Scott, another resident on the floor, was walking by with his shower caddy, and gaped at the naked girl. She put her hands on her hips furiously. “Get the fuck out of here, pervert!” He practically jumped down the hallway, and Mercedes shook her head at the nerve of him, peeping on her. “Later, DJ, later B.”
The dining hall was pretty well-populated, but he skipped to the front of the line to see what they had prepared. He was really in the mood for a late breakfast, so, having grown somewhat accustomed to having Morgan around to wait on him hand and food, DJ found a cafeteria worker and had him get to work on custom-making him his breakfast. He offered to let Brittney take similar advantage, but she declined, grabbing a cup of non-fat yogurt and an orange.
They were mid-way through the meal, sitting in awkward silence (DJ was yet to find anything she had to talk about that was of interest to him). The TV in the corner was blaring an interview with some obnoxious politician, and that only made the silence worse. He wished he’d ordered less.
Then Ashley Vandoren appeared.
She didn’t even have food; she just made her way over and sat down beside him, ignoring Brittney’s presence across the table except for an acknowledging glance as she sat down. “Heya, asshole,” she said casually.
“Oh, hi Ashley,” he said. Even a week of torrid sex with scads of attractive women didn’t undo his lifelong reflex to be awkward when approached unexpectedly by a pretty girl. And Ashley was that, even in the simple t-shirt and jeans she’d worn to breakfast, her dark red hair in its usual thick poofy mane that communicated both a lack of interest in grooming and a lack of need for it at the same time.
He caught Brittney looking curiously, and introduced her. “This is Brittney. She lives on my floor.” Oddly, he still felt weird introducing her as his girlfriend sometimes.
“Should I be jealous?” she asked, not even looking toward the other girl. He just gave her a questioning look. “Are you fucking her,” Ashley clarified, speaking slowly.
“He sure is. I went home with him for break.” Brittney chimed in. It wasn’t catty; she sounded perfectly cheerful about it, in fact.
“How about you? How was your break?” he interjected, trying to shift away from the awkward topic at hand. Having a girl dominate a conversation felt strange now. He needed to get his mind right.
“Boring as fuck, like always. Don’t change the subject, asshole. Damn, most guys would be stoked for a chance to brag about nailing a piece of tail like that. Didja keep it good and kinky? Nail her with the curtains open for the neighbors? Sneak in a good night blowjob in the back seat parked in the driveway?”
“Oh, nothing so exotic as that—just fucked a girl in the ass while she ate her out, then on the roof during a big party, then fucked a half dozen other girls right in front of her,” he said evenly.
Ashley laughed, clearly taking it as a joke. “A man can dream, right Deej?”
Talking about it helped make him mindful of it. These were the things he had done. Could do now. Whenever he wanted. His confidence surged back as his new reality asserted itself. “Dream, nothing. If I wanted a blowjob from her right now, we’d do it.”
Her smile slowly faded as she took stock of his earnest tone. “Yeah, and get tossed out on your ass.”
“Nobody throws me out.”
She looked back and forth between him and Brittney, him staring seriously, her smiling pleasantly. “Put up or shut up.”
He smirked. “What’s in it for me?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure getting arrested, but even if you got some kind of connection like you seem to think you do, you get a blowjob out of it.”
“I could have that anyway. You want to watch, you got to ante up.”
“I got squat for cash on hand.”
He drummed his fingers. “You know I don’t want your money.”
She gave him an innocent look he was almost certain was feigned. Almost. “So you’re saying you want my…” With masterful subtlety, she shifted her posture and her arm placement just so, and suddenly it was impossible to look at her and not be aware of those stupendous tits of hers, even in the simply baggy t-shirt. “…what, exactly?”
“There’s a long answer to that question, but I’d settle for your shirt.”
She smiled coyly. “But she has to do it to completion, or you get nothing.” Brittney just sat by, listening as she took another tiny bite of her yogurt.
“Deal.” DJ supposed if he wanted Ashley’s shirt he could have just reached out and taken it, but he had to admit that her way was more fun. He turned to Brittney. “All right, babe. I need you to earn me that shirt.”
“You’re sure we can’t go back to your room and do it? Or mine? Mercedes screws around with guys while I’m in the room all the time, so she totally owes me.” Even as she said it, though, she was getting up and coming around the table.
“Oh come on, you got a gift—you should be proud of it. Show it off.”
She smiled at his compliment as she sank to a crouch in front of him. Ashley moved to the far end of the long table—probably figuring she didn’t want to be culpable in this when campus security inevitably arrived—but was still close enough for a good intimate view. “Wow, not even trying to be sneaky about it, going under the table. Ballsy, Deej. Stupid, but ballsy.”
DJ dropped his pants to his ankles, and Brittney immediately got to work. It occurred to him he hadn’t had a full blowjob from her since that first night together, before break; as she lovingly licked and kissed his cock to hardness, he wanted to kick himself for neglecting the opportunity.
As ever eager to please, Brittney unabashedly took his cock into her mouth and blew him. No, that wasn’t even it—she made love to his cock. Well no, that was still wrong. It was like making love, but with her mouth. It was affectionate and needful and eager and… kind, somehow. He was fast becoming an expert on blowjobs, but he was yet to meet a girl who put her heart into it like good ol’ Brittney Jenner.