My college roommate Katie is so annoying. Sorry, that's the only way I can put it.
I mean, she's a good person and all. And we generally get along ok. She just really gets on my nerves sometimes.
You want proof? Okay, where do I start?
Well, there's the fact she always "borrows" my things, like my makeup and clothes and even my laptop, without asking. When I eventually get said item back — if I get it back — it's often damaged in some way.
Oh, how about the time she decided that we should pool our food together on a community shelf in the middle of our dorm room?
"Amber, it's good for roommates to share," she said in a condescending tone.
But she always forgets to go grocery shopping, so I'm the only one replenishing the snacks and ramen.
Still not convinced huh?
How about the way she likes to watch TV shows on her laptop, volume on full blast? Doesn't matter if I'm trying to sleep or study for a final. And the one time I asked her to put on headphones, she refused, saying it would "ruin the experience."
"Ruin the experience?" Katie, you're watching Japanese anime with subtitles. Why do you even need sound?
Unbelievable.
Alright, I can tell you're not still convinced. "Amber, that doesn't sound that bad," you're thinking, "Sure, she's a bit inconsiderate, but you're making it sound worse than it is."
Fine. You want the coup de grace? The icing on the cake? Here it is:
Katie likes to invite her boyfriend to our room — without telling me, of course — and then, when she thinks I'm not looking, suck his dick right there on her bed. Right in front of me.
Yep, that's right, I'm talking a full-on, sloppy suck fest in our dorm room, while I'm in there with them, pretending not to notice.
And you want to know the worst part about it? The part that really grinds my gears?
I kinda like it.
You're shocked, right? You don't believe me. It's alright. I wouldn't believe me either. But it's true.
Why don't I leave the room? Well, that is none of your business…
No, I'm not going to give you the details! I really don't want to go into it…
…
Alright, fine! Let me tell you about this special little number she always likes to pull:
It always starts the same way. I'm minding my own business, playing something on my Xbox. Red Dead Redemption 2 has been my jam lately. Katie and What's-His-Name are lying on her bed on the other side of the room. Katie is giggling about some dumb joke he told.
Suddenly, they start whispering in hushed tones. I don't have to turn my head to know what's happening because I can hear the distinct sound of a zipper being slowly pulled down, tooth by metallic tooth.
You know what's crazy? She thinks I don't notice, but I can see everything in the reflection of the mirror on my desk. I watch as she slowly reaches into his pants and pulls his throbbing cock out through the fly of his jeans.
I'll give him this, homeboy has a nice cock. It's thick and long, with veins running down the side. The kind with a perfect head, not with a weird shape or anything.
So anyway she wraps her dainty hand around his girth, her cheap press-on nails barely touching as she slowly glides up and down his veiny shaft. Then, opening her mouth, she takes a tentative lick of his bulbous cock head.
I mean seriously, did they not think to turn the lights off or consider that I can see everything happening in the reflection of the mirror? It's just silly.
Sometimes I have to resist the urge to call them out on it, "Hey geniuses, I can see you sucking dick over there. Maybe close the curtains next time?"
I really should say something. But I never do. I mean, at this point, what can I do but watch the show? So I just sit there, controller in hand, trying to keep playing the game while my eyes flick back and forth between the TV and the mirror.
I've noticed she likes to do this thing where she grips his cock and then flicks her tongue all around the tip, making sure to slowly lap up every bit of precum that oozes out while never breaking eye contact with him. It's like she thinks she's a goddamn pornstar or something.
When she's done teasing him, she slowly wraps her glossy lips (likely covered in my lip gloss) around the head of his cock. I can see her tongue swirling around as she takes him deeper and deeper into her mouth. She takes him so deep that her lips touch his pelvis and his entire cock disappears down her throat.
Did I mention she's a moaner? So yeah, she holds him there, moaning quietly, her throat pulsing around his thickness. Like I said, not discreet at all.
Alright, y'all, so here's the part I'm not proud to admit, but we're friends here and I want you to have the full picture: Watching her as she finally comes up for air, strands of saliva dripping down her chin, all panting and stuff as she pumps his slick shaft—well it gets me a little turned on.
OK, more than a little. I can feel a warmth starting to pool between my legs that gradually builds until I feel a tingling in my clit. My breaths get shorter and my nipples harden against the fabric of my shirt. I shift around trying to relieve the building pressure down there but of course, nothing helps.
One time a little while ago I was at breakfast with my friend Erica, and she told me she had "blue bean" after sexting with her boyfriend all night without coming.
"Uh Erica, what the hell is blue bean?" I asked.
"You know, like guys get blue balls? We get blue bean," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I said I didn't know what she was talking about because I had never experienced that level of sexual frustration before. I figured she was exaggerating.
But the first time I got unintentional front-row seats to Katie's dick-sucking show, I definitely understood that throbbing, aching feeling she was describing. It was downright painful.
So now, I do something about it. You know, take care of things right there in the moment. So I don't get blue bean.
What? I can't help it.
Wait, before you accuse me of stooping to their level, unlike them, I know how to be discreet, OK?
Usually, I'm just sitting there cross-legged on the bed, controller in hand, trying to get Arthur Morgan through a heist mission or whatever. So I just casually slide the controller between my legs as I get more turned on, pressing it against my crotch. Through the thin fabric of my yoga pants, the vibration of the controller feels really good on my clit.
Fuck man, if you've never tried using an Xbox controller as a covert makeshift vibrator before, seriously, you should try it.
I can hear Katie moaning and gagging exaggeratedly in the background. She's such an over-actor. I sneak another glance at their reflection and see that she has managed to take his entire length down her throat again. Her lips are pressed tightly against his pelvis, her eyes watering, and thick black mascara running down her cheeks. She stays like that until she finally comes up gasping for air. Then she goes right back down on him over and over, slurping and moaning—not very quietly I might add.
I roll my eyes as I spread my legs open a bit more and start to grind down on the controller, the textured grip stimulating my clit just right. Using a couple of fingers I stroke up and down my pussy lips over the fabric, breathing heavily but trying not to make it super obvious what I'm doing.
I'm usually pretty wet by this point. I can feel my juices soaking through my panties and into my yoga pants. I see a wet spot starting to form on the taut fabric stretched over my lips and it just turns me on more. I notice a sheen of my own moisture starting to cover the corner of the controller as I grind against it.
So yeah, obviously at this point I'm getting pretty worked up. I need a little more. The vibes from the controller are good and all, but I gotta get hands-on if you know what I mean.
Have you ever tried playing a game like RDR2 one-handed? No? Well, I've gotten pretty good at it out of necessity. So while I'm working the controller with my right hand, still trying to focus on gunning down outlaws, I ever-so-carefully slip my left hand under the waistband of my yoga pants.