Every dorm room hookup fantasy starts the same way. With a text that says my roommate is gone for the weekend and a girl who has been waiting all week to hear it.
I am Ardelia. Twenty, a full time college student, and a full time cum queen. This dorm room hookup fantasy is basically my entire personality at this point. Let me tell you about last weekend, because it was perfect.
Your Dorm Room Hookup Fantasy Begins With a Locked Door
My roommate left Friday at noon. By twelve oh five, I had texted him. By one, he was knocking on my door with a pizza and that look. You know the look. The I have been thinking about this all week look.
I opened the door in my shortest shorts and a tank top with nothing under it. Roommate is gone until Sunday, I said. We have forty eight hours.
He did not even make it to the bed. He pushed me against the door, hands everywhere, mouth on my neck, and I was already wet. I had been wet since his text. I am always wet, honestly. It is kind of my thing.
How a Dorm Room Hookup Fantasy Gets Loud
We tried to be quiet at first. We really did. But then his hands found their way under my tank top, and his mouth followed, and I forgot how to whisper.
I ended up on my knees on my dorm rug, which is disgusting if you think about it, so I did not think about it. All I thought about was him. Thick, hard, right there, and mine for the whole weekend. I took him deep, gagging a little, loving it, my hands on his thighs, my eyes watering. I looked up at him and I could see it in his face. He was not going to last.
Good. I like the first one fast. It means there will be more.
The Middle of Every Dorm Room Hookup Fantasy Is My Favorite Part
After, we actually ate the pizza. Then we went again. And again. We did it on my bed, on my roommate's bed (do not tell her), on the desk, against the mini fridge. I lost count of how many times. I stopped counting after I lost feeling in my legs.
My favorite was Saturday night. He was behind me, one hand in my hair, the other on my hip, and I was face down in my pillow screaming into it because my roommate's RA lives next door and I am not trying to get written up. He was relentless. I was dripping. The sheets were ruined. It was perfect.
I love being used like that. I love feeling sore in the morning and knowing exactly why. I love the walk of shame to the communal bathroom, trying to act normal while my thighs are shaking.
Why This Dorm Room Hookup Fantasy Never Gets Old
Because there is always another weekend. Another empty dorm. Another boy with that look. I am in college, baby. This is what college is for. Classes are whatever. This is my real education.
Every guy on this floor has either had me or wants me, and I am working through them in no particular order. I am the dorm's worst kept secret and its best kept memory.
Your Dorm Room Hookup Fantasy Is One Call Away
So call me and tell me yours. Tell me about your college days, or the ones you wish you had. Tell me what you would do with forty eight hours, a locked door, and a girl who swallows. I will tell you what I would do to you, in my voice, and I promise you will not be thinking about pizza.
If you want to talk to me right now, call the dispatcher at (888)-202-6036 and ask for Ardelia. My roommate is gone, baby. Come over.