Meeting Alyssa’s roommate

“Hey, that’s Amy!” Alyssa says in surprise. She waves a hand in the air and calls out, “Amy! Over here!”

We’ve been having lunch at the Schnalz and are just lingering at the table and talking. Alyssa’s busy, so I don’t see her as often as I’d like—and a lot of the time we do spend together, my mouth is busy doing other things than talking. I’ve gotten a lot of grins from the women who live in the sorority house. I’ve gotten a number of thumbs-up gestures as well, and the sisters have started scheduling me for themselves. I don’t know how many deliberate efforts Alyssa has made to recruit them as clients, but I’m sure her screams are better advertising than anything else she might say.

That’s good, and I enjoy it a great deal, but it’s also good having time with her to just hang out. Now she’s invited her roommate over. I’ve never even met her roommate.

Alyssa looks back at me, and I guess she can read my expression pretty well, because she says, “You think my schedule’s crazy, Andrew? Amy’s is stark raving bonkers. I know I’ve never introduced you to her—that’s because I barely see her. Trust me; I have a reason for this.”

As Amy approaches, I can see she’s an attractive woman. She’s golden-skinned with short black hair and fills out her T-shirt and jeans with some really nice curves. She’s a little on the short side for a woman, but noticeably taller than Alyssa. Her oval face is classically elegant, and her golden-brown eyes are bright. She sits down briskly with her food, not seeming rushed or harried but clearly moving as quickly as she can in a controlled fashion. “Andrew,” Alyssa says, “this is my roommate, Amy Kennedy. She’s a first-year senior.”

I look blank, but Amy snorts in a way that tells me she’s both annoyed and amused. “Come off it, Alyssa.” She turns to look at me and says, “Alyssa likes to joke that I’m trying to pack a four-year degree into one year. I’ll grant I have a heavy course load, but I’m not that far out of the ordinary.”

“Amy,” Alyssa says, getting her roommate’s attention, “this is Andrew, my old friend from home. I’ve told you about him.”

Amy looks at me with mild interest, then reaches across the table to shake my hand. “Good to meet you,” she says.

“Same here,” I reply.

Alyssa waits until her roommate has a bite in her mouth, then says (just loudly enough for the two of us at the tabe to hear), “So, Amy, still too busy for sex?”

I’m startled by Alyssa’s forwardness, but Amy nearly loses it. She manages to neither breathe her food nor spit it all over the table, but it looks like a near-run thing in both directions. She turns several complementary turns to look incredulously at me; something in my stunned expression seems to reassure her, though, because she starts to calm down. By the time she has her bite chewed and swallowed, she has herself under control. “Next time, Alyssa, warn a girl first! And in front of a guy?” Amy looks back at me and says, “No offense, but—”

“Amy,” Alyssa says firmly. Once she has Amy’s full attention, she says, “I’ve told you about him.”

Amy suddenly looks very intent and her eyes go wide. “You mean this is the guy who—”

“Yep,” Alyssa says with satisfaction, and I suddenly understand her reason.

Amy looks at me and says quietly, “Alyssa is right, Andrew—I am too busy for sex. Or rather, I’m too busy for a sexual relationship. It’s not the sex I don’t have time for, it’s everything that goes with it. Which I want, but not right now.

“Are you by any chance free this afternoon between 3 and 3:30?”

“He is,” Alyssa answers. “You’re thinking the room?”

“Yeah,” Amy responds, then turns to me. “Boys are allowed in our dorm during the day; mid-afternoon, there’s usually not much of anyone around. As it happens, our rooms are remarkably well insulated sonically, for whatever reason. Alyssa will be in class. Come up to our room and just come in—I’ll leave it unlocked. Be there right at 3, because I really do have to leave no later than 3:30. You game?”

“I’ll see you at 3,” I say, and hold out my hand. She takes it.

*******

I arrive outside Alyssa and Amy’s door at 2:59. I figure it’s close enough, so I open the door and walk in. I see Amy standing there with her back to me, completely nude. I’m immediately struck by her toned legs and tight, perky ass. She hears the door and turns around; I take in her perfectly-shaped medium-sized breasts; they sit high on her chest and are crowned with large rosy-pink nipples and oval areolae. Her waist is slender, and the flare of her hips is flawless. Her pussy is completely shaved; she’s left only a landing strip on her pubic mound.

“Thank you, Andrew,” Amy says. “I wanted to save time, so I went ahead and stripped for you. I haven’t done anything to warm myself up, though; the whole point of this is to have something better than masturbating, so if I’m doing half the work with my own fingers, it would ruin it. Where do you want me?”

“Amy, I know you don’t have a lot of time, but we don’t need to rush this much. Just stay where you are for a moment.” I kick off my sandals and continue, “I’m going to take off my shirt and pants. It’s not because I want anything from you, but because my skin and boxers will be more comfortable against your skin than my shirt and pants. Also, even though neither of us has any intention of going any further after I eat your pussy, you might find it arousing to see me aroused.”

Amy turns half away from me as I strip, which is actually helpful. I walk up behind her and gently caress her face and neck with both hands. I lean forward and murmur into her ear, “Give me a few minutes to explore your body. Let me learn how you feel in my hands, and give yourself time to grow accustomed to my touch. There’s time, and this will be better for both of us.” I stroke her cheeks and trace her jawline with my fingers. I slide my hands down her neck and spread them out across her back. As my hands work their way down, I bend my head to her shoulder and begin kissing her. I trail kisses up her neck to the back of her jaw, and then nibble her ear. She doesn’t say anything, but I feel her breathing start to change.

I fondle her ass, squeezing lightly, then trail my fingers up her sides. I tease the edges of her breasts with my fingertips, but pass on. I lightly massage her shoulders as I kiss the back of her neck; I slide my hands down her arms, briefly capturing her hands, then slip my hands out of hers to feel the softness of her skin over the tight muscles of her abdomen. As I plant kisses and the occasional little nibble all over the side of her neck and the base of her jaw, Amy turns her head and parts her lips to kiss me. I still my hands and step close to her as my lips explore hers and her tongue darts into my mouth to invite my tongue to come out and play. She feels the touch of my erection against her ass cheeks and presses back into me, then starts rocking her hips a little to rub along its length.

I think Amy’s ready for my hands on her tits, so I cup them in my palms. They don’t hang down a lot, but I can lift them and feel their weight in my hands. I let them rest in my palms and gently stroke her sweet curves with my fingers and thumb. Her kiss grows hungrier as I fondle her boobs. I avoid her nipples with my middle fingers, stroking around them but not quite touching them; it isn’t long before she breaks our kiss for a moment to growl, “Stop teasing me and play with my nipples.” Her wish is also my wish, so I scale the slopes of her little peaks and plant my flag atop them.

Amy purrs as I tease her nipples with the tips of my middle fingers, so I go further. I start caressing all of her tits, first with just my fingertips, then with my whole hands. I gradually increase the pressure so that I’m kneading and massaging her sweet mounds as I stroke them. “Mmmmm-mmmmm-mmmm,” she hums. “Squeeze them, lover. Play with my nipples. Pinch my nipples. Pull them and twist them and squeeze my tits.” Guided by her rising intensity, I pinch her nipples and roll them against my thumb. I grip one of her tits with my whole hand, letting her titbud pop up between two knuckles, and pinch that nipple between them as I knead her supple titflesh. I pull and twist the other nipple—not hard, just a little—and she throws back her head and gasps, “Suck my tits.”

I move out from behind Amy and steer her to a chair, where she sits down. I toss a throw pillow on the floor in front of her and kneel down. I start fondling one of her tits again, while I bend my head to the other and plant kisses all over it. She moans and runs her fingers through my hair, then starts trying to **** my mouth to her nipple. I resist for a few moments, then allow myself to be guided where I want to go. As I lick and suck her stiff little peak, and even bite it gently, I slip my free hand into her twat and begin stroking her large, thick inner lips. “So good, Andrew, that feels so good. Play with me, lover, play with me.” I trace circles around her clit, then caress it with three fingers, and I start suckling her nipple hard and fast. I pinch and twirl the other one, and she begins to tense up and writhe in the chair.

I slip a finger into Amy’s cunt, then two, and gently stroke her G-spot. With my other hand, I spread her twat wide and bend down to inhale her fragrance. In the back of my mind, I hear Van Morrison’s smoky voice singing, “She’s sweet as Tupelo honey . . .” This isn’t exactly what he meant, but it fits. I can’t wait to taste her. I pull my fingers out of her hotbox; she opens her eyes in some dismay, then smiles sexily when she sees me suck them off. I return them to their play and take a long look at the treasure spread before me. Her pussy is a little darker than her nipples, more of a dusky rose. Her outer lips are moderate in size, but her inner lips dominate her twat. Her clit isn’t huge, but it’s long enough to see, and fairly thick. I tell her, “Your pussy is as beautiful as the rest of you,” then bend down to lap at her snatch. She gasps, and gasps louder when I lock my lips on her pearl and suck hard. I shouldn’t take too much longer to bring her to climax, and I don’t think she needs any more priming.

I’m right. It’s not long at all before Amy whispers, “Almost—almost there—”

I look up long enough to say, “Cum for me, Amy. Cum hard for me. Let me feel you cum.”

“YESSSSSSS!” Amy hisses in a triumphant whisper as her climax cracks through her like a fusillade of lightning, one whickering strike after the next. Her cunt spasms on my fingers, squeezing hard and releasing and squeezing again in an erratic absence of pattern; she writhes and bucks her hips hard and fast enough that I pull my mouth off her button to avoid getting hurt. Finally, she falls back, eyes half-lidded, with an expression of bliss covering her face.

Almost immediately, Amy starts trying to collect herself. She manages to get herself up and dressed and out of the room just in time for whatever it is she has scheduled, telling me to wait, take my time, and lock the door behind me. Just before she leaves, she grabs me and kisses me passionately. “Thank you,” she says; and then she’s gone.