Climb the stairs to Ellen's dorm.

You rapidly climb the three flights of stairs to Ellen’s floor, and rush to her room, hoping to avoid Cathy. On your way to the door, you nearly knock over a tall, well-endowed athletic blonde with her hair pulled back in a pony tail. carrying a towel over her arm, and wearing navy blue jogging shorts with a sheer white sports bra. It leaves little to the imagination, and your get a nice, if brief look at her large brown areolas and erect nipples.

“Sorry.” You say brushing past her.

“S’okay.” She answers, flashing a smile, and continuing on down the hallway.

“That’s Shelly.” Ellen says. Opening the door to her room, and closing the door behind you, she finishes her thought by saying, “She has a nice rack, doesn’t she? You’re a very smooth guy. Thought I was going to have to put your eyeballs back in your head."

“Well, it was hard to miss.” Is your lame reply.

Ellen sits down on her twin bed, and motions for you to sit beside her. Looking around the room, it’s easy to tell which half of the room belongs to who. The two sides of the room were mirror images of each other in their essentials. Small desks at the head of each bed, a dresser at the foot, and closets next to each dresser. Against the wall, between the desks was a small fridge. And running the entire length of the wall beside the desks was a large window that began at waist high, and ran to the ceiling. The curtains were drawn, and let in the warm rays of the sun.

“Amy’s a bit of a pig.” Ellen giggled. Scanning the opposite side of the room, there were clothes on the bed, along with a red leather box, about twice as big as a shoebox. Amy’s bed was unmade, (you took special note of the lacy black panties on her bed along with the other clothes.) books were scattered on the floor, along with artist tablets and pencils. Unpacked boxes, and empty water bottles and diet Coke cans. Pairs of shoes and boots lay scattered under the bed like soldiers fallen in battle.

In contrast, Ellen’s side was a model of order and tidyness. Her bed was made, books were on a small shelf, and no clothes were visible, excepting a white, fuzzy bathrobe that hung on a hook behind the door.

“Still the neat one. I thought college might change you a bit, Elle.” You say as you put your arm around Ellen and pull her close.

“I think I’ve changed quite a bit.” Ellen said sticking her lower lip out in a pout. You wonder idly if Ellen's bra matches the silky baby blue panties you can see through the holes in her jeans.

"Really? In what sort of ways?" Perhaps Ellen has become a bit more worldly since attending college.

"I just know more things. Mostly stuff having to do with drinking, sex and . You know, all the essentials." Ellen takes her hand in yours, squeezing it.

“So, is Amy an artist?”

“I think she’s an art major right now, I can’t remember for sure. She’s changed majors a couple of times.” She says, stretching her feet, and examining her painted nails. “She’s really very good, I’ve seen some of her work.”

“What does she keep in the red box, maybe some of her sketches?’ You lean towards Amy unkempt bed.

Ellen grabs the waist of your jeans, and tries to pull you back. However she slips off the bed, and onto your back, and you both tumble towards Amy’s bed, and strike the side of her mattress. A denim skirt, the panties and the red box fall onto you and Ellen, and the contents of the box fall out over your head and shoulders, and Ellen’s as well.

When you see what was in the box you’re surprised. Ellen must be too, because she gasps when she sees what was in the box.