DJ pulled his pants and boxers back up, catching his breath. “I can’t believe you just let those guys take pictures of us,” Emily groused.
“Seriously! Can I at least get dressed now?” Ashley stood, hands on her hips in what might have looked intimidating if she hadn’t been nude.
“Sure, knock yourself out. Tell Charlie he’s welcome for me not fucking you—maybe next time.”
Ashley quickly tugged her clothes back on, skipping the bra and underwear in her haste. “Yeah. Sure.” She hustled out the door, and DJ enjoyed watching her broad butt go.
Emily dressed more deliberately, but headed to the lounge sink before putting her top back on. “And thanks for the fucking facial, too.” She tested the water’s temperature with a finger, waiting for it to warm up.
“Sorry. I just couldn’t help it.”
“You could have helped it—but you decided it’d be funnier to jizz on my fucking face.”
He frowned at the back of her head. Awfully sassy for a dream girl. “Hey—shut that water off. I think you look better like that.”
She flashed him an exasperated look. “Seriously? Is that really necessary?” Still, she shut off the water.
“One more complaint and I’ll have you do rounds topless too.”
She opened her mouth, then thought better of it, then tugged on her top while being careful not to smudge his cum. Maybe she was just protecting her blouse, but it felt more like she was playing along with his request.
They finished rounds. There was nothing else going on at the late hour, though more than a few night owls noticed the pearl spots on her copper skin and stared or chuckled. She kept her chin up and ignored it. All the while, DJ waited for his alarm clock to jolt him out of the dreamscape.
“Have a good night, Emily.”
He expected a caustic retort, but instead, all he got was a simple “good night, DJ.”
Not knowing what else to do or how to end the dream, DJ went to bed, closed his eyes, and went (back?) to sleep.
DJ woke up the next morning and immediately blushed at the previous night’s dream. He could hardly believe that even in his dream he would be so crude, so disrespectful to women, so crappy to one of his residents. It was completely unlike him. He felt the urge to apologize to Ashley, Emily and Charlie for just dreaming about such things.
Then he logged into his social media accounts to find dozens of new notifications. Unheard of for someone like him, surely—he worried something had happened. Lots of “so-and-so and such-and-such has commented on a photo you’re tagged in,” and he scrolled through until he found the original post.
It was an album of pictures of him sitting on the couch in the fourth floor lounge. Beside him, Ashley Vandoren sat naked and buried to the knuckle on his middle finger, back arched in pleasure as he worked her clit. In front of him, what might have been any hot, tanned brunette knelt, sucking his cock with a determined expression, but it was difficult to be sure who it was given the dick in her mouth.
But the tag on it labeled her unambiguously as Emily Turner.
He pinched himself again. And again.
A third time, for good measure.
What the fuck?!
Chapter Two
DJ knocked again insistently. He could see someone moving through the dorm room’s peephole, but she still hadn’t answered. He was sure knowledge of the pictures was all over the building by now, if not the campus, and he was doing his best to be subtle. Still, pretty soon half the floor would want to know who was banging on their RA’s door.
“Emily! Emily, it’s DJ. C’mon, please open the door. We need to talk.” At last, the vague dark spot in the room stopped shuffling around and came to the door. It opened, and there was Emily—standing there in her bra and panties, and looking none too thrilled to see him. His embarrassment over last night overwhelmed what would have normally been the thrill of seeing the trim half-dressed body of his co-worker and DJ quickly averted his eyes.
“Oh! I didn’t realize you weren’t dressed. Sorry, I can wait. But, um, can I come in?”
“Sure.” She let him in, closing the door quickly behind him. The cramped confines of the dorm room left nowhere for him to go to leave her privacy, so he just turned around. With his back to her, he could hear her rifling through her closet looking for something to wear.
“Emily, about last night… I don’t even know where to begin. I just… I had no idea… I thought…” He caught himself sputtering. “I am so, so sorry for the way I treated you.”
“Eh, it’s no biggie.” A blouse landed on the bed beside him.
“No biggie! Emily, I… I treated you like a piece of meat! I was so rude. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Look, I said forget about it, all right? I mean, so you felt me up and snuck a blowjob. Whatever.” He heard a zipper going up and after waiting to see her pick up the blouse, turned around to find her fully dressed and looking every bit as unfazed as she sounded.
“Wow, I can’t believe you’re so casual about all this. I thought you’d be furious. I mean, the way I made you finish rounds…”
“Yeah, that last bit seemed a bit much. But hey, water under the bridge, really. Let’s not make things weird.”
Emily put her hands on her hips, seeming for all the world to just be impatient at having to explain it to him, like he’d come in to apologize for bumping into her in the hall rather than face-fucking her in the lounge and parading her through the building with his semen on her cheeks.
“Well, that’s the other thing… I don’t know if you’ve been on facebook yet, but those guys? Who came in and started taking pictures?” He looked at the ground in shame, trying to figure out how to tell her he may have ruined her life. Any job she ever employed for could well turn up those pictures. Her family may well have seen them. He’d reported them, of course, but he knew those things never went away.
“Yeah, I saw. So did pretty much everybody. My mom called, freaking out, but I told her about it and she calmed down.”
“Uh, she did?”
“Sure. Some stuff in life you just gotta put up with. Can’t go around being pissed off over every little thing that goes wrong.”
He blinked. Was he still dreaming? How could anyone be so blasé about all this? Something was seriously off about this.
Emily had a class, and since she seemed to possess all the fury over the incident that most people would have over someone stealing a few pennies out of the coin tray in their car, DJ dropped it and figured it might need to sink in.
An hour later, he bumped into Charlie in the dorm’s common restroom, and was politely thanked for not fucking his girlfriend. The muscly football player laughed about the pictures. “Yeah, Ashley wasn’t thrilled about that either. Ah, well.” Charlie patted him on the back and headed on out.
The rest of the day was every bit as surreal. People who he’d knew had seen the pictures (the album had gained over seven hundred likes before it had been taken down for being pornographic) didn’t even look his way. They didn’t awkwardly look away either. They didn’t react at all. It was like nobody—not even the people involved—cared about what he’d done.
As he kept processing through it, he thought back to the incident earlier in the week when he’d been caught looking down Dr. Restrepo’s—Missy’s—top, and how strangely she’d reacted. Ashley and Charlie continuing their sexploits while he watched, playing along when he joined in. And Emily. He tried to think if there had been other incidents. He’d accidentally sneezed on someone next to him in class and she’d waved it off. Not at all the same though; she might just be polite.