The Roommates Pran a New Victim

There were perks to living in an apartment with three girls. The rent was lower split four ways. There was usually someone to help my colorbling self coordinate my clothes. They were all better cooks than I could hope to be. Two, Greta and Andrea were over twenty one and didn't mind sharing. Greta, the official leaseholder, had very clear guidelines for cleanliness and enforced them with brutal efficiency. We all had chores and Greta checked that they were done by the weekly Friday deadline.

There were some challenges, too, but they were all fairly easy to live with. First, many people assumed I was the gay best friend. I am not. I was not gay. Which leads to the second challenge; a straight, college-aged guy living with three college-aged athletic women was a struggle. They were hot, they knew they were hot, and they knew that they could use that to torture me. Mercilessly. Which leads, directly, to the only real drawback to my situation: the practical joking.

It is probably not a phenomenon unique to my living situation, but it was incessant. Nonstop. Constant.

They were all teammates. I was the odd man out, literally. I was the only man in the apartment.

I went to grade school with Carly. Same class K through 12. When she learned we were going to the same college upstate, I had no choice. We were going to live with her older sister in the apartment Kate leased off campus. Then, when Kate graduated and moved, we were a package deal for Greta's place.

Greta and Andrea had been teammates for a while and were close. Carly was a rising sophomore and a goal keeping phenom. I was a classics major who was the envy of every jock on campus.

As April approached, I began to take precautions. I saw the tricks they played on each other and knew the first would be bad. I didn't want to be caught in the crossfire. I

really

didn't want them to see me as prey.

The first day of the month started like normal. I was the first up for my 9:00 AM. A survey course of English authors from 1700 to 1899. I had my bag and my shoes in my room and ready to go. My door was locked and my chair was a redundant barricade. I dressed quietly and moved my chair. Slowly, I opened my door and peeked into the living room. My door was safe. There were no waterfall traps, no plastic wrap waiting to clothesline me, and no tripwire tied to a Rube Goldberg machine.

I moved across the common room fast and quiet. I felt like a spy or thief. The apartment was still, but I knew that peace would break as the others woke. As I passed the small hallway leading to Greta's room and Andrea's room, I saw the first prank of the day waiting outside Andrea's door. Clear plastic wrap was stretched and taped at face level immediately outside her door. I could see something - glue or petroleum jelly, it wasn't clear - smeared over the wrap.

I closed the front door quietly and scampered before anyone woke up.

At lunch, I stopped back for a quick bite before Sociology on the far side of campus.

Carly was there, sitting on the couch and struggling with something on her lap.

"You okay?" I asked as I entered.

She looked up and shot daggers at me. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

I shook my head. "With what?"

"I'll kill them. Dead, Tom, dead."

I stepped closer and fought a gag. "Jesus."

"Andrea or Greta or both. Maybe others from team. Someone broke into my room when I was sleeping. They went out into a farm field and they ground my shoes into cowpies. Every. Single. Shoe. They all smell like cow shit."

She was brushing the crusty manure into a bucket with violent, jerking strokes of a toothbrush.

"That is an old toothbrush, right?"

She shrugged. "I got it off of Andrea's dresser. I don't know how old it is."

"Shit," I moaned. "I'm outta here. I don't want to be here when that one lands."

I retreated and left Carly sitting on the couch and swearing at her shoes.

After Sociology, I met some guy friends for a game of basketball at the outdoor courts on campus. They ribbed me, as they usually did, about living with a bunch of girls. I explained that I was in no hurry to go home because World War Three was brewing.

"How so?" Mark asked as he checked the ball in. Mark was the closest our group had to a jock. He'd been a basketball player in highschool. He thought he had a chance with my roommates. Which roommate, exactly, shifted with the tides.

"Someone dunked all of Carly's shoes in cowshit," I said. "The whole place reeked and it was a mess. She is using Andrea's toothbrush to clean her cleats before practice."

"Oh boy," Mark said.

Homer, a computer science major from Alabama, stopped in the middle of the court. "Her toothbrush? That's vile."

"Yeah," I said as Mark rebounded my brick. "And I know that there is more in store for tonight."

"What else did they do?" Mark asked.

"I saw Andrea's door had plastic wrap with something smeared on it. Petroleum jelly or lube or something. And then the cow shit thing. Last year, when Carly and I were living with her sister, Greta broke into her roommate's room and hooked up big speakers. She turned on some porn and played it at full volume on the speakers. The police had to go in because no one was sure if it was porn or real and no one was answering the door.

"Andrea stole all the clothes from the team after practice. She used the coach's phone number to mock up an online ad and storefront for people to buy the underwear and bras and stuff. She almost got kicked off the team."

"Jesus," Mark said. He pulled up and stood with me and Homer. "They're serious. Usually it is just light, ha-ha kind of stuff."

"They consider a good prank on par with the Sistine Chapel or the Pieta," I said.

"The what?" Mark asked.

"Forget it," I replied and took the ball from Mark.

I joined Mark and Homer for pizza and fries at the student union's cafeteria. We stayed late to watch the end of the Elite Eight's third game. When the game ended, I made my way home.

I entered our apartment expecting fireworks. Literal or figurative. Instead, I found all the windows open and the smell of manure mostly aired out.

"Hello?"

There was nothing. No lights on, no sound, no one else around. I crept in, expecting a surprise and trying to be prepared for anything.

With each step, I winced.

But nothing happened.

In the kitchen, I found a note. I recognized Carly's untidy hand:

Tom,

Late practice. Then team dinner. There is a party at Romy's. I might go. Maybe we can go together? Talk later.

-C

I breathed easier. I felt tension lift from my shoulders. The apartment was chilly because of the open windows, but still I felt sweat under my arms. I didn't want anything to do with my roommates' prank war, but I was the one scurrying around expecting to catch a stray.

I walked the apartment once, checking bedrooms. There was no one home.

The tension eased further.

Only after I was sure I was alone did I realize what Carly had said. I went back to the kitchen and read the note again. Then a third time. What did she mean by "go together". My stomach did a loop. Carly wanted me to join her? Together?

I had carried the proverbial torch for Carly as long as I could remember. I'd suffered through her boyfriends in middle school. Her serious boyfriends in high school. Through Derek and Ali and Landon at college. I'd dated, too, but nothing had worked out because there was always Carly.

Others had noticed I dated a type. My prom date had the same dark hair and pale skin. We had traded V cards that night, but decided to part as friends before graduation. It was good, but she had sensed someone between us. So did the girl I'd palled around with the previous year. I had dated a redhead for a while, but there was no thrill for me.

It always came back to Carly.

But she had been distant lately. I thought it had something to do with the end of her season and the new semester. The distance had persisted as we moved towards spring break. Now, out of the blue, an invitation to a party. Together. I was confused.

I dropped my bag in my room, checked for any sign of latent pranks in my space, found none, and relaxed. I was out of their line of fire. I was an innocent bystander. I wasn't worth the energy. It felt good.

I gathered my towel and toiletries basket, locked my bedroom door, pocketed the key, and walked across the hall to the bathroom.

Inside, I locked the door behind me.

With the vent fan running and another basketball game streaming on my phone, I took care of some sitting business, shaved my face, and let the shower warm. I left my towel and clothes folded on the shelf that ran between the sink and the shower's curtain. It was within easy reach and I was able to prop my phone up in such a way that I could follow the game through the cheap, clear shower curtain.

In the shower, I worked up a lather and was scrubbing my arms when I noticed the curtain flutter. My heart stopped.

My hands dropped to cover myself when I saw movement beyond.

They were fast. Too fast. I was too focused on covering myself.

Andrea came first, quick and accurate. She grabbed my clothes, my towel, and my phone with nimble fingers. She was grinning and laughing.

Greta was right behind her. She grabbed the shower curtain and pulled. The plastic gave out easily. With a series of twangs the rings rebounded onto the curtain rod.

I knew the drill. They would scamper with anything I could use to cover myself and laugh when I tried to leave the bathroom. I was sure I could find something to cover myself. I would outsmart them.

But they didn't leave. They threw their loot out of the bathroom and then stood, arms crossed, just out of reach. They crossed their arms and watched me. Andrea leaned on the sink and Greta lowered the lid of the toilet before perching there.

"Well," Greta said.

"Well what?" I said. My hands were cupped around my cock and balls and my ass was pressed against the shower's wall.

"Give it a minute," Andrea said.

I knew what they were waiting for a moment later. It was gradual, but the hot water coming out of the showerhead shifted to something closer to lukewarm before going cold. They'd turned off the water heater.

"C'mon," I moaned. "I don't want to be part of your pranks."

"Tough," Andrea said.

"This isn't fair, I'm naked and it's cold," I said. I was whining and I knew it.

"We should warm it up, huh, Drea?" Greta said. She stood and walked towards Andrea.

"We should. It's only fair," Andrea agreed.

I shivered in the cold stream. Before my teeth could start chattering, I risked dropping a hand to the shower knob and cranking it off. "I saw his butt," Greta said. "Cute, cold little butt."

Andrea pushed off the sink and hooked her thumbs behind the elastic waistband of her after-practice sweats. "This'll warm him up." She inched the pants down.

I couldn't

not

look.

She wore panties under the sweats. They had yellow and green stripes. The waistband was tight against her flat stomach.

"Perv," Andrea chided. "He's looking, Greta."

"He should," Greta said.

My heart missed a beat or two as Greta peeled her t-shirt up and off in one quick motion. She wore a white sports bra underneath, but her tight core was visible as she turned to face me. "You like this, Thomas? Is this what you dream about when you're in your bedroom tugging your little cock?" She pushed her small breasts up and together. She managed a little hint of cleavage.

"He does," Andrea said. She slid her sweats down and stepped out of them. The panties were high cut and showed a lot of leg. She turned towards Greta and put her fingers inside the waistband of Greta's workout pants. "He'll like this more."

Andrea's ass was perfect in a thong as she crouched, bringing Greta's pants down with her. Greta showed no embarrassment. She was wearing a lacy white g-string. The skimpy material looked amazing in her sculpted ass. I felt my breath catch.

"He

does

like it," Greta cooed.

I was having a hard time containing myself in my cupped hands. I was breathing hard and could feel my face flushed bright red. I was shivering, but the cold was forgotten.

Andrea stayed in her squat and looked at me over her shoulder. "Maybe the cock he pulls when he fantasizes about us isn't that small after all."

Greta stepped around Andrea and stopped a few feet from me. "You lower yours, I'll lower mine," she said. Her thumb traced her navel before teasing the waistband of her panties. Her thumb caught the material and pulled it down an inch. There was a hint - little more than a wispy wish, really - of her fine, light pubic hair.

Self-consciousness fell away and I moved my hands. I was erect and didn't hide it.

"Oh my god!" Greta screamed. Behind her, Andrea fell over in a peel of laughter. Greta turned, laughing too, and ran from the bathroom. Andrea, her ass muscles flexing as she pushed upright, followed.

I was left shivering and wilting in the cold. The door didn't close. The riot of their laughter echoed through the apartment as they ran to their rooms. I dripped and nodded. I should have seen it coming. Hormones and hope had blinded me.

They'd been thorough, too. As I looked around the bathroom, I realized they had almost certainly scouted for possible covers in advance. There was no hand towel. No floor mat. No tissue box or paper towels. Only a toilet paper roll.

"Fuck it," I said. I slicked as much water off my body as I could before stepping out of the shower.

In the living room I half expected a surprise party. Maybe the whole women's soccer team. Maybe their social circle. Maybe cameras.

There was nothing.

The living room was dark. I could hear them laughing from Andrea's room at the end of the hall. I was humiliated but decided it was mostly harmless. They weren't the most modest and I'd seen more than a little skin in my time living with them. Maybe this leveled the scales a little.

I found my shorts tangled in the damp pile that included the shower curtain, my towel, and my clothes. I pulled my key and detangled my clothes and towel. I left the shower curtain. They could clean it up.

In my room, I closed my eyes and leaned on the closed door. I breathed deep and dabbed at my body with my towel.

"That was mean of them." My heart stopped. I was drying around my balls and froze like a deer in the headlights. I opened my eyes.

The room was dark, but I knew the voice.

"Carly?"

"Sorry, I should have told you I was here."

"Why are you here?"

My bedside reading lamp turned on and my heart stopped again.

Carly was on my bed. On. My. Bed!

We'd been friends since the first day of kindergarten. I had been in love with her since the second day of kindergarten. Not just crushing on her, head-over-heels in love. Everyone knew it. Carly played dumb, but she knew, too. Now she was on my bed. And I was naked.

It had been a fantasy since I'd starting having fantasies about girls. But this was different. It was real. And...

She rose onto her knees (on my bed!!) and I saw her.

"They don't know I'm here. They'd be all over us if they did. They think I'm at Romy's party already."

Carly was wearing a bright red body suit. It hugged her small frame and split between her breasts. She wasn't a busty girl, but she had a better endowment than either Greta or Andrea. Her dark hair fell in waves to her shoulders and added contrast to the bright red of the lingerie and her pale skin.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"I...uh..." I couldn't string words together.

Her legs were toned and perfect. The lace of the body suit swirled in a high-cut reminiscent of Andrea's panties.

"Tommy?" She was the only person in the world who could call me that. She had when we were five and she could for as long as she wanted.

"I, uh, just..." I'd moved past grunts, but words were still hard.

The longer I stood and looked, the more I realized words weren't the only things that were hard.

I could have hung my towel on my erection.

But Carly showed her own signs of arousal, too. Her nipples - nipples I'd dreamed of - were tight against the sheer red fabric. She gave me a small half-smile. She knew I was taking her in.

"Is this another joke?" I asked. "Because if it is, it's cruel. Worse than anything those two could do."

"I know how you feel, Tommy."

"Yeah, it's not exactly a secret, is it."

She shook her head. Her wavy curls bounced.

I took a tentative step towards her.

She smiled and sank back onto my bed. I kept my towel up but was beginning to think that my second erection of the day wouldn't be a total waste.

Carly rolled onto her stomach and smiled up at me. I could see a hint of a blush on her cheeks. And then my eyes drifted along the smooth curve of her back. The red fabric held up by a ribbon tied at her neck. Her back bare. Perfect dimples just above the red waistband of the outfit. Then her perfect ass and the red material of her thong.

"I bought it for Valentine's Day," Carly said. "I thought I would surprise you."

"Why haven't you said anything?" I asked. My words, it seemed, had returned.

"I was a little embarrassed and a little worried about losing everything we have. But I also wanted it to be a surprise. To be romantic and sort of spontaneous."

"What changed? Why now after all these years?" A part of my brain was curious and another part was telling me to shut up and not look a gift horse in the mouth.

She smiled. "I'm horny. I have been for months. When I broke up with Landon, it took me a minute to realize that a really good guy was on the other side of the wall. And then another minute to work up the nerve."

I sat on my bed and reached out towards her. I touched the smooth skin of her calf and she smiled. "How long have you dreamed about this? How long did I torture you without knowing it?"

I nodded slowly. "Physically? I think I hit puberty in earnest when I was twelve. Give or take. So what, eight years? Nine?" I shrugged. " Emotionally? When did we start kindergarten?"

"Kindergarten?"

I nodded.

"Oh, Tommy." She pushed onto her hands and knees and turned to face me. I can't say I was a gentleman who looked away when she pushed herself up off my bed. My towel was still on my lap, but all it did was turn my almost painful erection into a bulge of fabric rather than a towering tribute to my desire.

She kissed my ear. Then my cheek. Then her hand turned my face to her. Her lips were soft and warm and just a little wet. If she had touched my body anywhere below my chin, I would have ruined my towel.

Her kiss warmed me. It seemed to warm her, too. It started soft and demure but grew hotter. Her lips opened and met mine with more ferocity. Her tongue wrestled mine.

We were both breathing hard. I could feel new sweat. My heart was pounding. My hands moved of their own accord.

She gasped a little when I touched her nipple through the material of her body suit. The gasp turned to a moan as she kissed me deeper. "Oh god, why did I wait," she moaned as my thumb worked around her nipple.

I made no effort to keep the towel in place as she pulled it away. I didn't recoil or hide.

She broke our kiss with a slurp and looked at my cock. "Thomas." Her voice was frank and matter of fact. "What is that?"

"My cock?"

She looked up and met my eyes. Her eyes, a blue so deep it was almost cold, held mine. "You've had that all this time? What was I doing with little dick Landon?"

I shrugged.

She gave me a look that sent my heart thudding harder.

A moment later, I was sure I had strayed into a dream. Her eyes locked on mine as she lowered towards my cock.

I fought an immediate, powerful orgasm. Her lips were just as soft, her mouth was just as warm, and her tongue teased around the head of my cock.