A gentle and cool early spring breeze swept through the trees lining the main walkway of River’s End University. Second semester was in full swing, but the weather, having finally broken, invited earnest youthful students setting up booths along the walkway trying to enlist other equally earnest and youthful students for their respective causes. A chestnut haired student, with darker brown roots beginning to show, was gently antagonizing a student, a year younger than her, at booth. The chestnut haired woman had no interest in the particular cause but enjoyed asking antagonistic questions to the man-bun wearing student at the booth.

After a few short minutes of antagonism, a junior with short brown hair and wire frame glasses snuck up on the antagonistic woman.

“Jess! I was looking for you. I thought we were going to meet at entrance to Westing Hall?” Jess, the antagonistic woman was startled, but the student hissed into her ear, “You’re about twenty seconds from a concussion when he decks you, play along.”

Jess gave a barely perceptible nod, “Sorry I got distracted, my bad. These people are raising awareness for such an important cause.”

“Oh yeah, I understand,” the brown haired and bespectacled student turned to the student with the man-bun, “you guys are doing such great work, so important, Jess here was just giving you a hard time. Good luck with the awareness thing.”

Jess and Mark, the student just speaking walked swiftly away.

“So what? You’re my white knight or something? Hoping I’ll give you a blowjob or something from saving me from a guy who looks like he couldn’t knock over a lamp?”

“No, though my reasoning was entirely selfish. See, if you were concussed, that would make Professor Coleman’s class less interesting. The ratio of pompous morons to people who are actually creative in that class is dangerously low, and I fear if it got any lower, I would take an icepick to my skull.”

“Oh! I thought I recognized you. Mark, right?”

“Yup, though if you feel like providing me with some sort of reward for my generous humanitarian work of saving you from the terrifying man-bun douche, I’ll settle for coffee. By that I mean, buy me a coffee, you ungrateful gadfly.” Mark’s tone was infused heavily with a level of deadpan sarcasm.

“Well, I suppose a coffee is the least I can do for my knight in shining armor.” Jess’ tone was equally sarcastic, but with exaggerated emotion compared to Mark’s deadpan.

Together, they walked to the on-campus café, and got in the line for ordering.

“I’ll have a chai-mocha-latte with almond milk, and a hint of mint,” Jess said with an air of superiority about her.

Mark, as again deadpan said, “Coffee, black and bitter, but with ground pepper sprinkled in, large.”

The barista looked at him, with eyes heavily scrutinizing him. “We don’t have black pepper.”

Mark groaned, “Yes you do, it’s in one of the sandwiches you make on premises, I will pay for the black pepper inclusion if it is necessary.” A second barista tapped the first one on the shoulder, explained that it was fine, no extra charge.

Jess turned to Mark, “The fuck?”

“It’s just what I like.”

Jess paid and as they were about to split up, a girl from their writing class, with short dyed black hair, snuck up on them, “Whoa, are you two an item? I did not expect that.”

“Marie, what can I do for you this lovely afternoon?” Mark asked, deadpan sarcasm in his voice.

“Nothing, just surprised to see you two together. You never talk in class.” Marie was in their writing course as well. “What do you say we grab a seat and I can play third wheel, I’m in the mood for some gossip.”

“We’re not dating.” Jess said with finality. “However, I am open to socialization. It’s Friday, I’ve got nothing to do for the rest of the day.”

The three of them sat at the table. Mark set his coffee down first, which Marie swooped up and took a sip of, which she immediately regretted. “Jesus Mark! What the fuck is that! It’s like coffee but spicy? I don’t have the words.”

“I assume it’s so no one will steal his drink or food, so he loads it with spicy or other conflicting flavors,” Jess postulated.

“Eh, not quite,” Mark said. “I can’t taste anything but spicy and bitter. Sweet, salty, savory, whatever the other ones are I get nothing out of. Makes spicy coffee pretty much the most indulgent of flavors I can experience. To me this is a carefully curated and balance for the perfect dish from a culinary master. I get all the flavors.”

“That’s… weird,” Marie hesitated, “I don’t think I’ve met anyone with that problem in the past.”

“It’s not really a problem, just a fact of life for me,” Mark shrugged it off.

“With that, I’m going to grab something, be back in a sec,” Marie said cheerfully.

Within a few moments she returned with a vegetarian sandwich on focaccia bread. “So what’s the latest? Jess, what is your next opus going to be about? Mark, are you still harboring that grudge against Brendon for the mathematical and logistical errors in his work? You know its creative writing right? You don’t need to nitpick the fuckups of the minute detail."

“Yes. Yes I am, on all accounts. His work is riddled with inconsistences that range from using incorrect numbers; to having characters change key factors about themselves every few sentences. Also, his attempts at writing action sequences have roughly the same outcome as the mutant hybrid spawn of a sloth and a manatee doing gymnastics. It caused me physical pain. I will continue to fight this one man war for verisimilitude until my dying day, or class ends, whichever comes first, really.”

The two girls laughed at how enthusiastic he became about his petty one-sided hate boner for a fellow classmate.

“I’ll concede that Brendon’s work is shit. But you’re not going to change anything like that,” Jess said almost reluctantly. “As for my next opus, well, you’ll just have to wait, but I’ll let you know it does in no way include the mutant hybrid spawn of a sloth and a manatee, in any form; let alone doing gymnastics.

“Is it a satirical horror story about a washer/dryer combo that steals women’s underwear?” Marie asked.

“No.”

“Okay, good, I didn’t want someone else to have that idea,” Marie breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief.

“Wait, why does it only steal women’s underwear? Is it some kind of pervert? Is it the washer or the dryer stealing it? If it’s the washer, wouldn’t the excess water result in molding? If it’s the dryer couldn’t that start a fire due to the lint buildup and heat?” Mark’s mind raced with the complicated logistics of a washer/dryer stealing underwear.

“I think you’re thinking too much into it, Mark. But now I do need to change it, since it was going to be a perverted demon washer/dryer. Now maybe it’ll be haunted by a girl who could never find underwear that fits properly, so her spirit haunts the washer/dryer searching for that perfect bra,” Marie guessed.

“I’ll similarly concede the point that it can be a bitch to find a bra that fits perfectly. Finding the measurements is weird.” Jess said.

“What if you combined the two? A girl went around stealing bras from others searching for the perfect one along with an illicit sexual thrill, when she was murdered for stealing underwear by being drowned or suffocated in the washer or dryer respectively. Now her spirit haunts them, searching for the right bra while gaining a thrill from them. Oh wow, this is brilliant; I’m on a roll here…” Mark said before he was cut off by Marie.

“That’s enough! Stop giving me suggestions; let me figure it out on my own!” Marie exclaimed, practically out of breath.

Jess sighed, “Okay kids, this has been fun but people are starting to look at us like we’re insane and while you two may not take any issue with it, I kind of do. See ya around.”

“Hold on a sec,” Marie took hold of Jess’ arm. “I propose we meet up in my room later tonight, get drunk and continue this line of conversation. This is far more enjoyable than I anticipated.”

Mark shrugged, “Sounds like a good time to me. All I planned to do today was sit in my dorm room and try to figure out how to not be bored. Though I’ll assume each of us will need to bring our own booze as our tastes will most likely not overlap. Jess I assume you enjoy wine, probably rosé, most likely sparkling given the pretentiousness of your coffee order. Marie, you take me as a...” he paused a moment, “some kind of fruity bullshit or a vodka laced with a fruity infusion.”

“What gave you that idea, Mark?” Marie inquired. “Actually, I’m much more of a red wine girl.”

“And I pretty much only get hard cider,” Jess said.

“I was close.” The two girls looked at him like he was mental, “All four are things that taste like either piss or nothing to me, and they all contain fruit. In case you were wondering, I’ll be procuring a six-er of beer brewed locally, mostly because they are the only ones who make an IPA with hot spices in it.”

“What kind of brewery would make such a thing?” Marie asked.

“The kind that is owned by a family friend and made specifically for me, however it is popular in Japan. You know how they are with their fermented beans and tentacles and eating poisonous blowfish.” Mark spaced out for a moment, “Where was I? Oh yes, when do you want to meet and where, as this sounds like as good a use of a Friday night as any that I don’t need to do homework or study.”

“Guess I’m in as well,” Jess sighed.

“Epic,” said Marie. “I’ll text you two a time and my dorm address.” She did and the three went their separate ways, each to a different location for the procurement of liquor (although Mark had to go to the source for his, due to its specialist nature.)

A few hours passed before the agreed upon meeting time. Jess was their first, but within five minutes of her arrival, Mark arrived, the bottles of beer clanking in his backpack.

“Welcome to my humble domicile, Mark if you spill your spicy bitter beer in here you will be cleaning the entire floor with your tongue until every trace of it is gone.”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, Marie.”

They brought out their respective drinks, each with a carefully designed label. Jess’ hard cider had stylized images of apple trees and birds adorning the label. Marie’s red wine had a more elegant design, deep brown, slightly raised silver lettering and an image of a swan about to take flight from water, also in the slightly raised silver. Mark’s beer however was the standout. It featured an elderly Asian man, bald with a long white beard and a face full of rage, brandishing a cane as though to hit someone with it. On the reverse, the name of the beer ‘Infinite Hatred IPA’ with the word 'infinite' being stylized as a lemniscate.

“That is one provocative looking beer. Like it wants to fight me to the death in a cage. Like throwing the bottle at someone would hurt extra,” Marie rambled.

“It probably would, the capsaicin might have a degree of residue on the bottle, and if that comes into contact with the blood drawn it could be quite hellish,” Mark guessed.

“It kind of suits you,” Jess said, not sure if it was a question or a statement. “Like with your writing, there’s so much vitriol and absurdity that an elderly Asian man hitting someone with a cane while screaming profanities is a perfect visualization. Angry elderly and Asian isn’t a visual that goes along with the dignity and honor we associate with the Far East.”

The alcohol was cracked open, and they spent a fair amount of time collectively bashing the majority of their classmates in the writing class. Whether it was Brendon’s sheer incompetence (Mark’s words), or Sheila’s attempt at being the ‘voice of a generation’ but with work that came out like an angst ridden teenager thinking she’s deep (Jess’ words), or Claire’s ‘sheer lack of joy’ (Marie’s words.) Naturally, good natured barbs were hurled at each other, in particular Mark’s reliance on angry satire over plot (something both Marie and Jess agreed on), which he defended as it being ‘picaresque’ or Marie’s tendency towards sympathetic, yet ultimately bitchy (Jess’ words) characters, which Mark also agreed, issuing grievances, in that the characters were largely engaging in reprehensible actions, and that giving them sympathy or justification was a weak crutch. The insults at Marie’s work (agreed upon by Mark and Jess, though they were Mark’s words) were geared towards having characters that merely ‘existed’ as opposed to be being actors within the story, and her attempts at writing a socially awkward character came across as more endearing than actually awkward.

The room was filled with laughter; each of them ultimately had to agree with the criticisms levied at them. Eventually, Marie had a suggestion, “Okay, we’re tipsy, I propose an on-the-fly narrative. We each have to kind of stream of consciousness tells a story, we have the same rough outline, and we see where we go from there.”

“Sounds fun,” said Jess. “I propose the narrative is that two people meet up somewhere, and then sex happens between the two of them. Mark you go first.”

“Why do I have to go first?” Mark said, “Seduction and romance is out of my wheelhouse. If you went first I’d at least have a jumping off point.”

“Your believed incompetence is why you have to go first. So we feel better about what we do.” Who said that doesn’t matter, the sentiment was echoed between the two girls.

“Fine,” groaned Mark.

The bar was near empty that night, a Sunday in football (American) season in a bar with no televisions had a tendency to do that. Jazz radio filled the room, broken up by the cracking of billiards balls connecting with one another. A man sat alone at the bar, in a slight daze. Laid off that Friday, he had decided to drink his woes away, and figure out what the hell he was going to do starting on Tuesday. Monday he would be nursing the wicked hangover he knew he would be getting from drinking so much that night. Yeah, it would be hellish but there were worse ideas, not that he could think of any his mind clouded by the copious alcohol he consumed…

“Halt!” Interjected Marie, “You are spending way too much time on the setting and main character. This is short fiction so get to the banging. You haven’t introduced the person he’s going to fuck. Keep it quick, this isn’t supposed to be one of your fifteen page minimal-dialogue exercises in indulgence. Get to the fucking and seduction and shit already!”

“I told you I was incompetent at this,” spat Mark. “I was going stream of unconscious for that, while I figured out the rest. Buy time by building setting and atmosphere so I could figure the rest out. Not like I could go back and retract stuff, you know.”

“Wait,” Jess said, slightly confused, “you weren’t thinking about that? You split your focus into figuring the rest out while just rambling. That was surprisingly coherent for something like that.”

“As penance for your incompetence and wasting our time, you must take off your pants,” insisted Marie.

“That makes no fucking sense,” Mark complained.

“I’m drunk enough that I agree with Marie. Take off your pants, you are outvoted.”

“This is insane,” Mark sighed as he began taking off his shoes to more easily remove his pants; the alcohol preventing him from putting up a sufficient fight. “Marie, you go now. Can I at least decide that?”

“I take no issue, I planned on going second,” Marie took a swig from her bottle.

ooOoo

Casey could hear her heart pumping over the loud music, and felt her palms sweating, a slight tremor in her movements as she mustered the courage to talk to the woman she had been eying for the night. The way she moved on the dance floor, flowing like water in excellent rhythm to the music on the floor. Casey had consumed enough liquid courage to actually approach her, but not enough to completely stay her nerves.

“Uhm, Hi, c-can I buy you a drink?” Casey asked the woman on the dance floor between songs. The woman she asked smiled and nodded as they walked towards the bar. “My name’s Casey,” Casey said extending a hand.

“Claire, charmed to meet you, I was wondering how long you were going to be staring at me and when you would finally start talking.”

“You-you saw that?” Casey swallowed hard.

“Don’t worry about it!” Claire said brightly. The two women ordered drinks (Casey paid) and they moved to the couches in the club.

“Y-you’re really pretty,” Casey said after an uncomfortable silence.

Claire picked up on Casey’s nervousness quickly and give her a friendly peck on the cheek, “Thanks, but you don’t need to be so nervous, relax. But I think I know what might help things.”

Casey gave a curious look, as Claire leaned in and kissed her passionately on the mouth. Confused at first, Casey quickly reciprocated, feeling moisture develop between her legs.

Claire broke the kiss, surprised Casey but leaned in and whispered “There’s a hotel nearby, my treat.” Casey nodded furiously as Claire took her by the hand and led her out the door. Within three minutes they were at the hotel, barely able to control themselves.

Once inside their room, they threw themselves at each other, tearing clothes off and kissing passionately. Claire took the lead and threw Casey onto the bed when only underwear was left…

ooOoo

“JESUS, MARK!” Jess shouted. “Do you have a hard on?”

“What?” Mark said, having forgotten that he was A) not wearing pants; B) getting turned on by Marie’s story. He glanced down, “Shit! Involuntary reaction! Cannot control blood flow, impossible, wishing had consumed enough alcohol such that blood had thinned such that erection impossible.” His embarrassment was rising quickly, dropping words, face turning bright red.

“Cut him some slack, Jess,” Marie said. “His gender can’t withhold that information as easily as us. And in the interest of fairness, I was kind of turning myself on with that.”

“Holy shit!” Mark shouted, startling the girls who then nearly simultaneously asked him what, though each using a different choice of words that provided the same effect, “I figured out where my story was going. It was going to involve rule 63, multiverse surrealism, self-love, and a turkey leg.”

“What the fuck? Where did that come from, summarize now, but you lost your right to tell the story in your manner,” Marie insisted.

“Okay, so the bartender was going to make a drink and give it to the guy; let’s call him Sam because I can’t think of a more interesting name. But the bartender is secretly like a demon or something, and it transports Sam to a rule 63 dimension, exactly like his one but the genders are flipped. This means female Sam (let’s call her Sammy) drank the same drink and was in his dimension creating this weird inter-dimensional rift thing, right? They have sex because they are lonely, depressed and drunk but since they are so perfectly matched, like the penis fits perfectly in the vagina, and so much chemistry, that their simultaneous orgasm is so intense and powerful that it destroys the multiverse, leaving only a single turkey leg remaining.” He held up one finger for emphasis.

“That’s uhm, what?” Jess said, struggling to find the words. “I mean, it’s something that I think only your mind would do, but at the same time, that’s weird even for you. “

“It’s not weirder than his other work,” Marie argued, “remember that time he had his protagonist go to a white supremacist meeting because there was going to be free pizza, and the white supremacists plotted to break into a pharmacy to steal cyanide that they would take to make themselves whiter? Or the time his protagonist entered a surrealist dream-world but that turned out to be the real world and he was in the real surrealist world?”

“Point taken,” Jess said, “Well, unless you want to continue, Marie, guess it’s my turn?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Marie said.

ooOoo

“Well it’s not like I like you or anything!” Madison exclaimed, turning bright red. “I just had a bad break-up and want post break up sex and you’re here and…”

Clark held up a hand silencing her, “I’m not one to look a gift sexual encounter with a hot girl in the mouth. Or maybe I am, but the lower mouth, you get what I’m saying. Where?”

“My room,” Madison quickly said.

Clark, not wondering how he got so lucky followed Madison to her dorm room.

“No kissing,” Madison insisted, “kissing is for romance, this is for pure pleasure and helping me forget my ex.”

“No complaints,” Clark said unbuckling his belt and taking off his shirt. Madison did similar as she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth. Clarke groaned in pleasure and closed his eyes. Madison licked up and down the length of his cock, paying close attention along the main vein before going back to the head, swirling her tongue around.

After a minute or so of the blowjob, Madison removed the cock from her lips with an audible pop, stood up and lowered her panties and sat on her bed with her legs on the side. Clark needed no instruction before he dropped to his knees, on hand gently stroking his cock to maintain the erection as he dove his tongue into her honey pot. He licked the length of it, alternating in an impossible pattern between slow and quick, sucking gently on her clit. Unable to wait any longer, Clark looked up at Madison from between her legs. Madison smiled, and reached under her pillow for a condom, handing it to Clark (the best sex is safe sex kids) Clark stood up and rolled the condom over his shaft before gently inserting his member into her pussy.

Madison sighed audibly. Between her own frustration and Clark’s tongue, she was wet enough that Clark encountered no resistance as he entered her. He began moving his hips, paying close attention to his rhythm, keeping it inconsistent, and occasionally removing himself entirely to tease her with his tip. When he did this, Madison shook her head and gave a pleading look, but it only served to increase their mutual arousal.

Whether it was Clark’s skill, or her own arousal, Madison came quickly, panting and sweat growing on her sheets.

“Oh god, I’m coming,” Clarke groaned.

“Wait! In my mouth” Madison panted. Clark obliged removing himself and the condom. Madison glided to her knees ant took him back into her mouth, pleased that she couldn’t taste herself on him. With incredible skill she brought him climax, drinking the entirety of his load with a satisfied gulp and smile before leaning back and basking in the afterglow.

Clark struggled to catch his breath after the intensity of the orgasm, “If you ever need my help again, don’t hesitate, to let me know,” he joked.

ooOoo

Marie gave a golf clap, “Didn’t expect you to do that, and Mark is excited again it looks like.” Mark grumbled and cursed himself. “Also, in the interest of fairness, that got me going, too. I’m particularly fond that you jumped right into the banging, instead of going slow and building to it. I hate it when porn stories take a long time to get to the good stuff. I mean, I’m here to get off, just get to the sex, am I right?”

“Well, okay, I kind of turned myself on with that too,” Jess confessed.

“I vote sex now, three-way, it’s on my ‘before I graduate’ bucket list,'” Marie said. “Also, I assume every straight guy wants to have a threesome with two hot chicks, right Mark? I mean, we’re all turned on, right?”

Mark mumbled something to himself wondering what the fuck was going on now.

“Okay,” Jess said, “I mean, it makes sense to me, sufficient drunk all horny. Two conditions though, Mark wears a condom and no strings attached. This is purely physical release.”

“I take no issue with this,” Mark said.

Marie laughed, “Of course you don’t Mark. Bottom drawer Mark, in the box labeled ‘before the box’. “

Mark began to reach for the drawer, but Jess interrupted him, “Wait, I hate the taste of latex, and like giving blowjobs, but I only give them if I’m reciprocating.”

Mark shrugged, “Okay, I’ll warn you though, last time I went down on someone, I was described as ‘borderline incompetent’.”

“Oh how can you be shitty and licking pussy? You’re clean shaved so no pricklies, and just y’know, spell alphabet a couple times with your tongue,” Marie rolled her eyes, “and because I can see the wheels turning in your neurotic head, lowercase, and when doing loops such as with ‘o’ or ‘b’ center of the loop around the clit. I mean, at least that’s what I do and it seems to work.”

“Fine,” Mark said as Jess was already stripping off her pants, panties coming along. She was cleanly shaved, leaving only a small landing strip of pubic hair above her womanhood. Mark shrugged and went to his knees.

Following Marie's advice, his mind drifted to whether or not his inability to taste was proving detrimental or beneficial to his cunnilingus skills. Jess’ moans and occasional mumbled phrases such as ‘that’s it’ told him that Marie’s advice proved sound. He occasionally had to focus back on the task at hand as his mind drifted, but Jess seemed to enjoy the shakes of his head as he refocused himself. Jess' moans grew louder.

Behind him, Marie was taking off her clothes, being the first fully naked and pulled a pillow off her bed and set it on the floor behind Mark. Reaching around and inside his underwear, she wrapped her small hand around his shaft, slowly and with great care not to get him too excited. She nodded at the length and girth, as she gently stroked the length of him.

After a few minutes of intense pussy licking, Jess announced that she was ready and instructed Mark to stand up. She shifted herself, rolled her shoulders and took off her shirt, revealing small, but nicely rounded b-cup breasts. Getting onto her knees in front of Mark, she took him into her mouth. Mark groaned as Marie also stood up, this time behind Jess, one hand in and began licking the sides of Mark’s mouth, she wanted to taste Jess on him, and found the slightly fruity taste mixed with Mark’s saliva highly appealing.

Jess bobbed her head back and forth on Mark’s shaft, occasionally humming, sending a thrilling buzzing sensation into Mark. He groaned and occasionally struggled to breathe as waves of pleasure shot through him. It didn’t take long before he announced he was about to, at which point Jess abruptly stopped, leaving him just before the point of no return, and had a wicked smile on her lips.

“Not just yet, Mark,” she teased.

“Okay, I want somebody in my mouth, and somebody’s mouth on me,” Marie said, “You two don’t get to have all the fun. I’m going lie down. Jess, I want your pussy straddling my face. Mark, I want you between my legs.”

“I live to serve,” Mark said, frustration and sarcasm at the denial of climax evident on his voice.

“Whatever you want,” Jess purred, as Marie settled herself on the bed.

Jess stood up and then straddled Marie’s face, her knees to the sides of her head and pussy right above her. Marie then wrapped her arms around Jess’ waist and grabbed hold of her ass. “Damn girl! You got a great ass!” she announced before diving into Jess’ honey pot.

Whether Marie was more skilled at cunnilingus, or that Jess was already warmed up was unclear, but Jess’ moaned loudly and quickly, gently rocking her hips back and forth, fucking herself on Marie’s tongue as she stared down, one hand under Marie’s head looking down at her and between moans whispering things such as ‘that’s it baby’ or ‘oh yeah that’s good.’

Mark had his arms wrapped around Marie’s waist as he flicked his tongue around her pussy, swirling around the clit. This time he didn’t need to even refocus, but feeling blood surging into his cock, well aware that this was a once in a lifetime event and not bothering to even think about how he got so lucky.

Marie and Jess orgasmed almost simultaneously as Jess collapsed forward, bracing herself on the bedframe.

“I don’t think I can hold back anymore,” Mark said, raising his head from between Marie’s legs. “Can I put on that condom, you two have each came at least once and I’m stuck holding back.”

“That’s because when a guy comes, sex is over, so you had to wait, but you’ve been a good boy, which of us do you want first?” Marie teased.

“That’s only if the refractory period is too long. If oral is initiated between and you have a reasonable refractory period, it can keep going,” Mark said, mildly annoyed.

“Okay, positioning,” Marie said, “Mark, you lie down where I was, since you decided to be a dick instead of just going along with it, you lost the privilege of picking who you go in first. Jess goes first, I’m going to sit on your face, Jess, while you ride him, reach around and play with my tits or something and keep me going.”

Mark lay down on the bed, thankful that Marie had implied she would sit facing him as opposed to facing backwards. He did not like the idea of his tongue or nose being anywhere near a butthole.

Jess sighed as she lowered herself onto him, albeit with Marie’s help. Marie gave Jess a quick peck on the cheek before moving over and straddling Mark’s face. Mark wrapped his arms around Marie, in a facsimile of the way Marie had done so for Jess, grabbing hold of her cheeks. From above him, he could see hands playing with Marie’s breast, occasionally pinching the nipples and groping them.

Jess found that grabbing hold of Marie’s tits helped her stay steady, after somewhere around two or three (she had forgotten how many) orgasms, staying upright became challenging, but Marie seemed to have no trouble. Mark’s cock filled her nicely as she rocked her hips, raising and lowering, mostly slowly as her energy was draining from the orgasms and sex. She leaned forward and began licking Marie’s neck, which Marie encouraged eagerly.

Mark had never experienced pleasure like this. Whether it was in part from how long it felt like he had been denied, or the visuals of a beautiful woman rocking on his face, while another beautiful woman riding him, but he did not care. Focusing on Marie’s pussy, flicking and swirling his tongue, and occasionally thrusting it as deep as he could into her, Marie’s moans spurred him on.

Exclamations of pleasure resonated through the dorm room as the wild threesome continued. Eventually, the rhythmic motions of Jess sent Mark over the limit; he groaned and e filled the condom with his spunk. Noticing it, Jess crawled off him, and Marie did likewise as Mark turned over, struggling to catch his breath.

“Oh god, I feel like I just emptied a week’s worth into that, and I really doubt I’ll be able to get it up again this month.” Mark groaned, “Is there a trashcan?”

Marie pointed at a small trashcan, and Mark rolled the condom off into the bin. The three of them sat naked for a long moment, struggling to breathe and looking at each other’s faces, red and drained. The musky odor of sex permeated through the room, prompting Marie to open a window and put a fan into it, trying to assist in air circulation. Her knees wobbled and she nearly collapsed against the wall after getting the fan in the window.

Marie inhaled deeply, “Same time next week? Jess, you can share the bed with me, and Mark, you can sleep on the floor tonight if you’re too drained to make it back to your room, or you feel awkward coming back in so late.”

“Water-“ Jess gasped. Marie reached into her mini-fridge and tossed both Mark and Jess bottles of water and grabbed one herself.

“I appreciate it, yeah,” Mark said, gulping down water.

“Neither of you answered my question,” Marie complained.

“I’ll answer in the morning,” Mark said, and Jess nodded in agreement.

Jess and Marie kept each other warm in the bed, as Mark wrapped a blanket around himself, keeping himself warm and his naked body away from the cold tiled floor.