I miss the days when the campus library never closed.
So, it was a Friday night, and I had locked myself in my dorm room. I retrieved my glass dildo from my nightstand. Stretching out on the bed, I inserted my earbuds, selected an EDM playlist on my iPod.
My shirt yanked up and my panties tugged down, I dabbled with foreplay, grazing the dildo along the rungs of my ribs. I rolled the tip in and around my navel. Trembling from the cold touch of the glass, I tickled my nipples into erection.
I traced the toy along my jawline. I sucked the first few inches into my mouth. I circled my tongue around the shaft, drawing saliva from the back of my throat. Once lubricated to satisfaction, I pressed the head of the dildo to the lips of my trembling vulva.
Slowly, I penetrated myself with one inch, then two. In and out, easy does it. I grew hot and slippery down there. Sweat greased my trimmed pubic hair. I spread my legs to widen the passage. My back arched of its own accord.
I worked the shaft inside me, up to the hilt. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the music. I timed my thrusts to the drop beats, squirming my hips like I was grinding it up on a dancefloor against the bulge of somebody's jeans.
I felt it coming, that glorious compression deep in my stomach. Electric shivers ran my arms. Shortening breath, fluttering eyelids. The splayed lips of my pussy clenched around the glass, pleading for a little more, just the tiniest bit more...
The walls trembled with my roommate's screams of, "YOU PIECE OF SHIT NOOB! COME THE FUCK BACK AND SUCK MY ASS!"
I froze, mid-thrust, hips in the air. In silence, my mouth formed the words, "Gaming night. Lovely..."
My roommate and her weekend Call of Duty matches. The clock read midnight-thirty. Knowing her, the online matches would last until dawn's first light. The bouts of impotent fury would only grow louder as the night wore on.
I cranked my iPod to maximum volume, tried again.
Fanning my fingers open and closed upon my taut stomach, I slid my pelvis up the length of the dildo. I worked it in and out of me like an alternating piston. A slow thrust, a fast one. Deep, then shallow. I pinched one nipple, twisted it. Gnawing my lower lip, I tightened up again, my walls slurping at the shaft, almost there, closer...closer...getting so deliciously close...
"AN RPG?! WHAT THE FUCK, YOU MOTHER-SHITTING COCK-JOBBER!"
My bones turned to jelly. I crumpled upon the mattress with a total loss of tempo. Peering down my body, I saw deflated nipples, lifeless hips. Even the dildo looked like it had gone limp, hanging halfway out of me.
There was no point fighting it: I wasn't going to get my sticky-thighed orgasm that night. No earbuds in the world could muffle my roommate's gamer-rage.
I spent a few minutes facedown, unleashing my own tantrum into a pillow. Then, I cleaned up, took my backpack to the university library.
Grabbing a seat in the main foyer, I told myself that I would use this time to get a head-start on the weekend's assignments. Plenty of papers were due, come Monday. Completing them on Friday night would free up Saturday and Sunday.
I made a valiant effort. At least, I did for thirty minutes. Then, I bought a hot chocolate and streamed "Gilmore Girls" on Netflix.
One episode soon became two, soon became five. In my non-sleep haze, I couldn't keep track of who was saying what dialogue. It was getting harder to tell Lorelai's face from Rory's. I slid ever farther down my seat. My shirt rode halfway up my back with my ass teetering precariously upon the edge of the chair.
Of the dozen or so students loitering in the foyer, I saw a couple guys checking out all my skin on display: spine, flanks, and likely bra-strap. I wouldn't be surprised if they stroked off to me, later on that weekend. I was too tired, too lethargic, to cover myself up.
Let them look, I thought. Let's just hope that their roommates are quieter than mine.
At about four AM, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I paused Netflix, forced myself upright in the chair. I checked the caller ID: Jerod from Intro to Psych.
Mmm, Jerod. Six-foot-two black stud with the cornrows and crooked smile. Beefy horse haunches and a mammoth dick to match them. Health-nut, martial arts movie geek, and my sometimes friend with benefits. Or as he liked to call it, Coital Sparring Partner.
I answered the phone with, "If this is a booty call, it will have to be your place, not mine."
Jerod's deep baritone oozed into my ear like rich butter. "Oh no, now, Sally, don't tell me you got your parents there with you!"
Even the sound of his voice had my back arching in the seat. "No," I said, "just my psycho roommate with too many energy drinks."
"Oh! Big game night at big Sally's place!"
"It is for somebody. I'm thinking of chloroforming my roommate if she keeps up the screaming fits much longer."
"Funny, I'm not hearin' nothin'. Usually, she'd be blowin' out my phone speaker right about now."
"I ran away. I'm at the library, doing Netflix." I gave my voice the inflection of a cutely perked eyebrow. "Where are you at?"
"Buttfuck Nowhere, West Pennsylvania. My brother needed help re-roofin' this weekend. He's puttin' my ass to work at out in cow country. It's alright, though, we're gonna marathon Bruce Lee movies."
I thought of Jerod out in the sun, shirtless, corded muscles greasy under the scorching sun. V-cut abs, biceps like baby heads, pecs that you could crack a walnut between. The thought of tracing my finger from his sternum to his belly button had me slowly wriggling upon the library chair.
