Your curiousity gets the better of you and you head towards the dresser once again, your hands once again reaching for the handles of the lingerie drawer and it's secret, and very naughty, contents.
You nearly jump out of your skin when an electronic jangle goes off like a burglar alarm, piercing the quiet of your friend's dorm room. You back away from the dresser, looking around for the source. You trace it to a phone atop her cluttered desk.
Your first impulse is to grab the receiver off it's flashing cradle and answer it. Then you remember you really shouldn't be there. You see an answering machine below it and decide it would be best to let the machine pick up the call.
After the machine picks up the call, you hear a feminine voice over the speaker.
"Don't worry, silly! It's only me, Ellen. I ran out the main entrance door looking for Amy and it locked behind me. Of course, I have no key on me.. or shoes for that matter. Could you be a dear and come down and open it for me?"
You listen to your friend. Ellen must be using the same phone you did earlier. A good samaritan must've helped her with some change. She sounds funny, though. She must've really ran after her roommate.
Not knowing how or what to answer, you simply head for the door to let her in. The phone line goes dead, then the machine disconnects. You glance around for Ellen's keys, but can't find them. So both of you don't get locked out, you leave her room's door ajar as you head for the staircase.
You look down as you take your first step, and see a sizable bulge from your dalliance with Ellen still tenting your jeans' front. You try to hide it with your shirt's tail, but it doesn't work. The material won't stretch that far, no matter how hard you try. You continue down the staircase, hoping some innocent coed doesn't come across you before you reach the door, and run away screaming. You envision the headline now. 'Pervert Terrorizes Girls' Dormitory'.
You breathe a sigh of relief as you see the entrance before you at the bottom of the second set of stairs. A few more feet and you will have made it. You're surprised you don't see Ellen with her nose pressed against the small windows to either side of the doors. Suddenly, the lone door to your right swings open, and out steps a pretty blonde, right into your path. Visions of that newspaper headline flash before your eyes once again as you see her look at you wide-eyed. You skitter to a stop before her to keep from colliding.
"What are you doing out here? You know this is a girls' only dorm!" she glares.
"Uh..er.." You stumble for words, something other than the truth. You don't want to get your friend in trouble. Despite your apprehension at this confrontation, you can't help but take in the brassy blonde before you. A lot of the tall coed's deep tan shows, for she appears to be wearing nothing but a large tee shirt with the name of Ellen's college emblazoned across her not inconsiderable chest.
"I..uh.. was delivering a pizza upstairs," you lie, lamely pointing a thumb in the direction of the staircase.
"Oh, really?" she asks you, further blocking your route of departure, her hands clasped behind her back. "What was the number of the room?"
'What was Ellen's room number anyway?' you fret. You can't help but notice the sly smirk spreading across the full lips of the taunting blonde as you try to come up with a reply.
Not waiting for an answer, the blonde continues.
"She seems to have left you with quite a tip, young man!" the blonde says, stepping forward, hefting the bulge in your jeans' crotch.
You gulp at the blonde's grasp of your situation. Your hardon has only grown since being confronted with this half-dressed beauty.
"We ought to continue this conversation in private," she growls throatily to you. "It won't do for me to be caught with a man in our hallowed halls!" She tugs on your waistband, drawing you toward her open door. You can only hope you can get further with this beauty than you did with Ellen.
You then remember the reason for coming down those stairs in the first place. Ellen is waiting for you!
"But I can't.." you stammer as you continue to be pulled along. You glance at the white painted wood of the door. A small plaque reads, 'Cathy Swanson, Resident Adviser'. 'Shit!' you curse to yourself.
You are brought over to a frilly four-poster canopy bed.
"I can't.." you continue to stammer, realizing now who you are with.
"Oh, I think you'll do whatever you are asked, mister!" growls Cathy.
You feel another presence in the room. You look to find.. |