The dorm was dead quiet for a Friday night—most people were either at the Sigma Chi pregame or passed out early from midterms. My roommate was gone for the weekend, thank fuck, so Ethan’s room on the third floor felt like our own little locked-down sex dungeon.
I’d texted him during my last lecture: “Your place. Now. I’m soaked thinking about your dick.” He replied with just a thumbs-up emoji and “door’s unlocked.” Cocky bastard.
By the time I got there, he was already shirtless, basketball shorts slung low, that stupid backwards cap still on like he thought it made him look hot. It did. Annoyingly.
I didn’t even say hi. Just kicked the door shut behind me, dropped my backpack, and shoved him back against his desk so hard his water bottle tipped over and rolled across the floor.
“Jesus, Tish—” he started, but I cut him off by yanking his shorts down. His cock sprang free, already half-hard, thick and flushed at the tip. I wrapped my hand around it and stroked once, slow, watching his abs tighten.
“Shut the fuck up,” I said, dropping to my knees on the scratchy dorm carpet. “You’ve been blue-balling me all week with those gym selfies. Time to pay up.”
He groaned when I licked a long stripe up the underside, tongue flat, tasting salt and that clean soap smell he always had after practice. I swirled around the head, sucking just the tip into my mouth, letting spit drip down the shaft while I looked up at him through my lashes.
“Fuck… yeah, like that,” he muttered, hand sliding into my hair but not pushing yet. He knew better. Last time he tried to face-fuck me too soon I bit him—lightly—and he learned real quick.
I took him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, bobbing slow at first, then faster, letting him hit the back of my throat until my eyes watered. The wet, sloppy sounds filled the room—gluck-gluck-gluck—mixed with his low curses.
“Goddamn, your mouth is fucking filthy,” he panted. “Suck that dick like you mean it, baby.”
I pulled off with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting my lips to his tip. “You talk too much.” Then I shoved him toward the bed. He fell back laughing, cock bouncing against his stomach.
I climbed on top, straddling his thighs, still fully dressed except I’d already ditched my thong in the bathroom earlier. Skirt hiked up, pussy bare and dripping. I grabbed his dick, lined it up, and sank down in one slow, burning slide.
“Fuuuuck,” we both hissed at the same time.
He was thick—stretching me open inch by inch until my ass met his hips and I could feel him throbbing deep inside. I stayed still for a second, just grinding in little circles, clit rubbing against his pelvis, letting myself adjust.
“You’re so fucking big,” I breathed, nails digging into his chest. “Love how you fill me up.”
He gripped my hips hard enough to leave marks. “Then ride it, princess. Show me how bad you wanted this cock all day.”
I started slow—lifting up until just the head was inside, then slamming back down, hard. The wet smack of skin on skin was obscene. I did it again. And again. Faster each time, tits bouncing under my thin tank top, nipples scraping the fabric.
Ethan reached up, shoved my top over my breasts, and pinched both nipples at once—sharp enough to make me yelp.
“Harder,” I demanded. “Fuck me like you hate me.”
That flipped a switch.
He sat up suddenly, wrapped one arm around my waist, flipped us so I was on my back with my legs hooked over his shoulders. The new angle let him sink even deeper—brutal, punishing strokes that made my eyes roll back.
“Like this?” he growled, pounding into me so hard the headboard banged the wall. “You want this pussy ruined? Want me to fuck you stupid?”
“Yes—fuck—yes—” I clawed at his back, legs shaking already. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”
He hooked one hand under my knee, pushed it wider, and reached down with the other to rub my clit—fast, messy circles with his thumb while he drilled me.
“You’re so goddamn wet,” he groaned. “Listen to how sloppy this cunt is for me. Dripping all over my balls.”
I could hear it—every thrust making that filthy squelch. My whole body was on fire, clit swollen and pulsing under his fingers.
“Ethan—I’m gonna—fuck—I’m close—”
“Come on my cock,” he ordered, voice rough. “Come all over this dick like the needy little slut you are. Let me feel that pussy squeeze me.”
I shattered.
Back arching off the mattress, mouth open in a silent scream that turned into a broken “fuuuuck—!” as my orgasm hit like a freight train. Walls fluttering, clamping down so tight he cursed and slowed for a second, fighting not to blow right then.
He didn’t let up though—kept fucking me through it, drawing it out until I was whimpering, oversensitive, thighs trembling uncontrollably.
When the aftershocks finally eased, he pulled out, flipped me onto my stomach, yanked my hips up so my ass was in the air.
“My turn,” he said, voice dark.
He spread me open with his thumbs, spat right on my hole—hot and wet—then pushed back in, slow this time, savoring it.
“Fuck, look at this pretty pussy,” he muttered. “All puffy and fucked-out. Still sucking me in like it’s starving.”
I buried my face in the pillow, moaning loud enough the neighbors probably heard. He started slow—long, deep strokes—then built speed again, one hand fisted in my hair, the other slapping my ass hard enough to sting.
“You love getting railed like this, don’t you?” Slap. “Bent over, ass up, taking dick like a good girl?” Slap. “Say it.”
“I fucking love it,” I gasped. “Love your big cock wrecking me—love being your slut—fuck—harder—”
He gave it to me. Brutal. Relentless. The bed creaked like it was going to break. My second orgasm built fast—too fast—coiling tight in my belly.
“Gonna come again—Ethan—fuck—I can’t—”
“Do it,” he snarled. “Come while I fill this cunt up. Gonna pump you so full you’ll be leaking me for days.”
That did it.
I came screaming into the pillow, whole body seizing, pussy spasming around him like it was trying to milk him dry. He groaned my name—low, wrecked—then slammed in one last time, hips jerking as he unloaded deep inside me. Pulse after pulse of heat flooding my insides until it was dripping out around his cock, running down my thighs.
He stayed buried for a minute, both of us panting, sweaty, shaking.
Finally he pulled out slow. I felt the gush of cum leak out immediately—warm, sticky, obscene. He swiped two fingers through it, pushed them back inside me, lazy, possessive.
“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured. “Look at that messy pussy. All mine.”
I collapsed flat on my stomach, legs still trembling. “You’re such a prick.”
He laughed, low and satisfied, flopping down beside me. “Yeah. But you love it.”
I turned my head, smirking despite how wrecked I felt. “Shut up and get me a towel, asshole. I’m not sleeping in your cum puddle.”
He grinned, leaned over, kissed me messy and slow.
“Five more minutes,” he said. “Then round three. I’m not done with you yet.”
I groaned—but I didn’t say no.
Because fuck… neither was I.
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