I didn’t talk about it with anyone else.
I dunno why, really. I guess there was no real incentive. Either they had a room on B-Level, in which case they’d know about it, or they didn’t…in which case, they’d probably just be jealous.
Not that I really talked about it with Libby, either. What was there to say? ‘Hey, Libby, I really enjoyed fucking you. Thanks.’
Hell, maybe I should have thanked her. The whole college experience, including B-Level, was totally new to me; I had no idea what the etiquette was.
But I didn’t, and Libby and I kept on living our lives like nothing had happened.
I mean, it was B-Level. It wasn’t like anything weird had happened.
The strangest part was that I didn’t do it again.
I mean, I wanted to do it again. God I wanted to do it again—it was all that I thought about. Every time Libby came into the room, my dick would spring into action, picturing her laying on her stomach, sliding those panties down her legs, fucking her twice, using her like my personal little sex toy…
Every now and again, I’d pull her panties out, to sniff them and remember what I’d done.
But I didn’t do it again. I was just too…nervous, I guess?
I didn’t do it again, and I didn’t talk about it with anyone.
Until Mike came to see how we were doing.
“So,” Mike asked, “how are things going on B-level?”
I hesitated, not sure how to answer. My Dad’s a salesman: and I know what he would have done—put on a brave face, pretend I’d been fucking the shit out of Libby on a daily basis.
“Seriously,” Mike said, staring me in the eyes. “I want to know.”
My bravado died in my throat, and I told him the truth.
I don’t know why I was so honest with him, but I told him everything. That I’d fucked Libby twice, then been too shy to do anything about it.
Mike was a good listener. He nodded as I told him everything, and waited until I was done before offering his take.
“That makes a lot of sense,” he said, surprising me. I didn’t really think it made sense to not fuck your roommate on B-Level, but…I dunno. The way he said it, I immediately felt better about the situation. “Sex can be a lot of pressure.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah.”
“Of course, B-level is about more than sex.”
I wrinkled my nose.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Can I get Libby to, like, do my homework?”
“No no no,” he said, waving me off. “No I mean, like, you don’t have to fuck her. Just ask her for a blow-job.”
My eyebrows shot up. I hadn’t thought of that.
“You think she’ll be okay with that?”
“Of course,” Mike laughed. “It’s B-level.”
I laughed along. Of course.
It was B-level.
When Libby got home that night, Mike was long gone. It was just me, laying on my bed, trying to act casual.
Trying to act like I hadn’t spent the last few hours imagining Libby on her knees in front of me, swallowing down my cock and swallowing my seed.
“Hey,” I said casually.
She didn’t respond. Libby wasn’t, like, rude or anything, she just…
Well, I guess she was a little rude.
She just obviously didn’t see us as friends.
I didn’t really know what she did think of us as.
“Libby,” I said, and she turned around to look at me, blushing slightly. She wore glasses—I don’t know if I ever mentioned that—and she stared at me through them, waiting to see what I wanted.
After Mike had left, I’d decided to go for it. If I beat around the bush, I knew what would happen—I’d build it up into this whole big thing, and it would never happen. I’d never have the courage to act, and I needed to act.
God I needed it.
“Libby,” I repeated, before taking a deep breath. “I’d like, uh…how about, um.”
“What?” she said softly, looking everywhere in the small dorm except my face.
“I want a blowjob,” I blurted out.
Her eyes widened.
“Oh!” she said, but she didn’t sound upset, or insulted. Just…informed, I guess. ‘Oh,’ like now she knew a thing that she didn’t know before.
“Yeah,” I said back, and there was a long pause.
Just as the silence was threatening to get awkward, Libby glanced around.
“Now?” she asked. Again, not like she was annoyed or reluctant, just like she…wanted to know. The question wasn’t defiant or annoyed, it was very matter-of-fact. Like she was asking if I wanted the door closed.
“Yeah,” I repeated.
“Okay,” she said, and nodded. “How do you want to do this?”
“It’s up to you,” I stammered. So much for the cool cat act.
For the next minute or so I watched my roommate as she flitted around the room, getting everything ready. She closed and locked the door, grabbed the pillow from her bed and put it on the floor. She pulled a bottle of water out of her bag, took a swig, and then set it beside the pillow.
And when she was ready, she knelt beside me.
“Ready when you are,” she said coolly, looking up at me.
When I’d fucked her on the bed, she’d been so much more…passive. As much as I’d thought about it, that’s what I’d expected the blowjob to be as well: me acting upon her, y’know?
I’d never actually gotten head, but I’d seen a lot of videos. And it had only just occurred to me that in all of those videos, the blowjob giver was not a passive role. They weren’t just laying there, like Libby had been on the bed. They were running the show, I guess.
And when I unzipped my pants and pulled my erection out, Libby began…running the show.
Looking up at me through her glasses, she slowly began. With one hand, she grasped the base of my cock. Her small pink tongue tentatively poked out, and started licking my head.
I throbbed as soon as she made contact, and she jumped. Shooting me a nervous grin, she surprised me by speaking.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m sort of new to this.”
“Me too,” I grunted. I didn’t know how obvious it was that she was one hundred percent of my sexual experience so far.
Maybe I was her first too.
Her tongue returned to the head of my cock, and I started to suspect that she’d done this before. Before long, her tongue was swirling around the entire length of my erection, stimulating me in ways that my own hand—and her pussy—never could.
I swear, if she’d just kept on using her tongue like that, I would have been shooting my load within minutes. But as if she knew I was getting close, she abruptly changed up her rhythm—her mouth closed over the head of my cock, and her hand began softly pumping.
As Libby enthusiastically blew me, her gaze never left mine. The entire time her mouth worked its magic, I stared into her brown eyes, enjoying sensations unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
When her mouth began swallowing more and more of my cock, I again felt like I was about to cum. But every time I got close, she’d slow down, her eyes burning into mine. I could tell that she was taking this seriously.
Not for the first time, I wondered exactly what Libby thought of the whole B-level situation. I mean, I knew she was cool with it. She had to be—it was B-level.
But beyond that. What did she think of it?
As if she could sense my attention wandering, my roommate brought her tongue back into the action. She was bobbing up and down on more than half my cock—in combination with her tongue swirling around my sensitive skin, I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Cumming!” I gasped, and Libby pushed her mouth down, gagging slightly as she swallowed as much of my erection as she could.
We maintained eye-contact as she dutifully gulped down my seed. When my cock was done pulsating, she quickly ran her tongue around my shaft, then pulled her head away.
“Thanks,” I said softly, and was surprised when she smiled in response.
She took two large gulps from her bottle of water and stood up.
“Don’t,” I commanded, as she went to pick up her pillow. Libby shot me a quizzical look.
“Leave it,” I said. “Just in case.”
She obeyed, of course.
It was B-level.
I don’t know what strings Dad had to pull to get me a B-level dorm (hell, I didn’t even know how the system worked—it might have just been luck of the draw) but I can honestly say that it was the best thing that ever happened to me.
For whatever reason, getting a blowjob from Libby seemed to break the spell. After that, I found it impossible to stop. Any time of the day or night that I was horny, all I had to do was say the word, and my roommate would drop to her knees and fellate me until she was swallowing my seed.
After a few days of head, I got the courage back up to start fucking her again. Most days, I’d cum in her mouth before classes, and then fuck her late at night. I started thinking of her mouth as her morning hole, and her pussy as her evening hole.
I think my favorite was when she was wearing her flannel pajamas—it was so easy to jump into her bed, slide the elastic waistband down, and then grab onto her tits as I fucked her.
Libby had these long, rubbery nipples—sometimes, when I was in the mood, I’d suck on them while she studied. It was really fun, watching her try—and fail—to concentrate on Chem 101 while I was biting and sucking on her tits.
For the next few weeks, I enjoyed Libby’s body whenever we were alone in the room. I don’t know if she enjoyed me enjoying her—I like to think she did, but I never actually asked. I guess I was afraid of the answer. If it was affirmative, great. But if it wasn’t…
I deliberately didn’t think about it.
There were a few things we didn’t do. We never kissed, for one. She probably would have, if I’d asked her, but…I dunno. Something about it didn’t feel right.
We didn’t really talk much, either. Like, occasionally I’d tell her to go faster or slower, or move to a more comfortable position, but beside that we didn’t exchange more than a few words each day. Libby had made it clear that we were just roommates, that she wasn’t looking for companionship.
B-level roommates, admittedly. But nothing more than that.
And unless my dick was inside her, I never went near her pussy. Sometimes I wondered what it would taste like, or what it would be like to finger her to orgasm, but…again, I was afraid of what would happen.
What if I couldn’t make her cum? The thought was intimidating enough make me not even want to try.
And I never went near her butt, tasty though it looked. I’m sure she would have let me, but I didn’t really know enough about it. It added a weird sort of ‘forbidden fruit’ feeling to the whole thing—like, I could cum inside her other holes whenever I wanted, but I sort of enjoyed knowing that was where it ended.
We didn’t talk or kiss, and I didn’t finger her or go near her butt. Besides that, most anything went. I came on her face on more than one occasion, and I enjoyed trying different positions. Doggy-style was a firm favorite, as well as the one where she methodically rode me from on top.
But the best was when she lay prone, and I lay on top of her and fucked her while she read. I couldn’t help but get hard thinking about our first time, and I recreated it whenever I got the chance.
Life was pretty good. Any time I wanted to get off, I could just come home and fuck my roommate, or enjoy her mouth as she blew me like a pro—not that I had anything to compare it to, I guess. Maybe she was terrible.
Sure didn’t feel terrible.
And yeah, I didn’t know exactly how Libby felt about it, but I knew she was okay with the situation.
I mean, of course she was. It was B-level.
So—as you can imagine—I was pretty surprised when I came back from class one day to find Libby sitting on her bed, making out with a girl.