Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Oral Sex, Petting, Safe Sex,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 2 - After breaking up with his girlfriend Margeaux, Carter finds himself pursued by her pixie-like roommate Valerie. She maneuvers him into inviting her on what he regards as a pity date. To his surprise they click and rapidly go from classmates to friends to lovers. Then, Margeaux drops a bombshell on him with information about Valerie he would have rather not heard.
Carter stepped into his dorm room. “So, how did the pity date go?” his roommate asked.
“Actually, surprisingly well,” Carter replied. “In fact, we’re going out again tomorrow evening.”
“Welly, welly, welly...”
“I know I said she’s not my type, but ... In spite of myself, I actually like her.”
“Hairy pits and all?”
“How do you approach a girl and say, I’d like to go out with you but your hairy pits are the deal breaker? If that’s the worst thing about her I need to overlook ... I have determined she’s not a hairy-legged radical feminist.”
“How did you discern that?” Leon asked.
“It’s called wearing a skirt. Actually I think Valerie has nice legs ... shapely. She has this round face and big, wide-set eyes ... pert, up-turned nose and a wide mouth that when she smiles makes her look like a pixie.”
“Hold on to yourself, Carter. It sounds to me like you’re falling for her. It’s been one date, for chrissake.”
“Maybe I am falling for her. Maybe I fall too hard ... maybe I fell too hard for Margeaux and that was the problem. One thing for sure — Valerie isn’t like Margeaux at all. She has gray matter between her ears — she’s smart and quick. Margeaux is kinda ... vapid.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
“I know ... Thing is, I went on this date expecting it to be something I’d need to get through. Instead, we clicked.”
Carter approached the library carrying a paper bag. He stepped inside and scanned the stacks for Valerie. Noticing movement on the mezzanine he looked up and saw her pushing a cart. By waving he caught her eye and she waved back. He stood under where she had her cart. “I’ll be down in a few,” she called to him.
Soon he saw her approach. She wore a mid-thigh-length long-sleeved tunic and black leggings. “Hi,” she said.
“When’s your break?” he asked.
She glanced at a wall clock. “Right now, and none too soon. My stomach is growling. Follow me.” Valerie led him into a back room. “This is our break room. I think we have paper plates...” She opened cabinets until she found a pack of paper plates. “I’ve been thinking about this my whole shift.”
“Here...” Carter handed her a sandwich wrapped in a paper napkin. “I didn’t know what you liked on it, so I brought packets of mayonnaise and mustard.”
“Oooh ... Mayonnaise.”
“No to mustard?”
“No to mustard.” He handed her a plastic knife and she used it to spread her sandwich.
“I also brought...” He removed a single-serving bag.
“Potato chips ... Sweet.”
“And...” He set a chocolate-chip cookie on her plate.
“Wow — such a feast.” Valerie opened a refrigerator and removed a can of soda. “Would you like a soda?”
She handed him one and he popped it open. “I feel bad you’re sitting there watching me eat.”
“I had something already.”
Valerie placed her empties in the trash barrel. She pressed her hand against her abdomen. “That felt good,” she said. “I was hungry. It was a sweet gesture, Carter.”
“Nothing easier,” he replied. “I’m on an unlimited plan. We’re not supposed to remove food from the cafeteria, but I’m cagey.”
“Thank you,” she replied with a broad smile.
“Do you know, when you smile like that, you look like an elf?”
“Yes, I know. It’s because I am one.”
“No, you’re not,” he replied.
“Oh, yes — I am an elf. I have elfin ears.”
“Get out. You can’t have elfin ears.”
“I’m an elf and I have elfin ears.”
“Show me.” He moved toward her and she backed away.
“No way! I don’t show my elfin ears to just anybody. We don’t know each other well enough.”
Carter let out an exasperated sigh. “Just how well enough do we need to know each other?”
Valerie shrugged. “I dunno — better than now.”
“After tonight’s date?” he asked. “Then will it be enough?”
She shrugged again. “Depends on how the date goes.”
“Suppose we feel like kissing good-night,” he suggested.
“Oooh ... Are you saying you want to kiss me?”
Carter stared at her and smiled. “You have a way of boxing me into a corner ... so I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. I think you’re a little conniver.”
Valerie grinned. “That’s a step forward.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know me a little better now than before.” She smiled and wrinkled her nose. “I have to get back to work.”
She headed for the checkout desk and began processing books and media from the return drop box. Carter stood behind her. “If I help will you be able to leave early?”
“I have to be here ‘til closing. If you want to help — go ahead. It’s only an hour and a half.”
“Show me what needs to be done.”
Carter escorted Valerie toward a small coffee shop in town. “I’m pleased I didn’t scare you off with my synesthesia,” she said as they walked. “I was afraid you’d think I’m a freak.”
“Absolutely not,” he replied. “I think it’s the coolest thing I ever heard. I envy you, Valerie. I wish I could experience music the way you do.”
The reached the Sweet Bean and sat at a table. Carter scanned the menu written on a chalk board. A small stage was set with a couple tall stools. A trapezoidal device sat on a stand in front of one of the stools. “What’s that?” Valerie asked.
“It’s a hammered dulcimer. Just to be clear — since this is a date and since I asked you, I’m paying.”
A server approached the table. “Are you ready to order?”
“Carmel latte,” Valerie said.
“I’ll have the chai,” Carter added.
“Very good. The performance will start shortly.”
Carter looked at Valerie, making deep eye contact. “I was reading about synesthesia today,” he said. “It was a very interesting article. It turns out the condition is more common than I imagined.”
“You need not worry about being a freak.”
“At least, not due to the synesthesia,” she remarked.
“At least. I learned that a number of composers and musicians had it — Rimsky-Korsakov, Franz Liszt ... Lots of modern-day musicians and performers.”
“Like supposedly Tori Amos, Mary J Blige, Billy Joel, Kanye West...”
“Billy Joel and Kanye West?”
“And, lots others have it to one degree or another. There was an early twentieth-century painter named Kandinsky who had the opposite of yours. You see sounds — he heard colors. And, there was an interview with a woman who senses flavors as shapes. She tested a soup — ‘too round,’ she said.”
Valerie laughed. “Too round. I’ll need to remember that.”
“The point is — you’re a special girl, Valerie. You have a special talent that I’m in awe of and that I envy deeply.”
Their server set the drinks on the table and a check.
Carter sipped his chai as the musicians took the stage. A middle-aged man sat behind the dulcimer and a woman sat on the other stool with a wooden flute. They began playing, the man using lightweight hammers to strike the steel strings on the dulcimer.
Valerie sat upright, her eyes closed and her lips forming a half-smile. The number ended. She leaned toward Carter. “I liked that,” she said. “You said that’s a hammered dulcimer?”
“It’s so ... sparkly.” She made a little laugh. “I told you I can’t see conversation, but I can see hub-bub.” She wiggled her fingers in front of her. “It’s like this brownish-green fog hugging the floor.”
“They’re going to play another number,” he said.
Carter stood facing Valerie in the Whalen lobby. “I had another wonderful evening with you,” she said. “I loved hearing that hammered dulcimer.”
“And, seeing it?”
“That, too. It was beautiful, Carter.”
“I had a great time, too. Would you be willing to go out again?”
“Of course. I really like you, Carter.”
“I really like you too. Are you free any time this week?”
Valerie rolled her eyes. “I’m afraid not. I work Monday and Wednesday, and I have projects and reading assignments to do.”
“How about next Friday?” he asked.
“That works. What did you have in mind?”
“I have an eclectic collection of music — some new age, some experimental, some folk, some ethnic.” He took his phone from his pocket. “I can load some onto this and maybe we could listen to some tunes.”
“I have the same phone,” she said. “I also have a speaker dock for it. I think that’s a great idea.”
“So, I guess it’s good night.”
“What about that kiss?” she asked. “You said you wanted to kiss me.”
“No — YOU said I wanted to kiss you. I never said that.”
“You know, if it’d make you break out in hives or go into anaphylactic shock — forget it.”
“I never said I didn’t want to kiss you...” He put his arms around her and she lifted up on her toes. Carter softly kissed her lips and caressed the back of her head.
Valerie lowered herself onto her heels. “Careful — stay away from the ears,” she said.
“We’ve been on two dates and we’ve kissed. We STILL don’t know each other well enough for me to see your ears?”
Valerie made a wide, devilish smile. “Maybe after next Friday.”
“I still don’t believe you have elfin ears.”
“Then you are in for a surprise.” She headed toward the door leading to the residence halls, then turned and waved. “See you in class. Good night.”
“Good night, Valerie.”
He walked across campus to his dorm room and flopped on his bed. “How did date number two go?” his roommate asked.
“Better than date number one. I am falling for her, Leon. I love her mind and her quirky sense of humor. She plays little mind-games with me and most of the time she’s a move or two ahead of me.”
“That would bug me,” Leon replied.
“Me, too, ordinarily — except, they’re fun and innocuous ... not malicious at all. She tricked me into kissing her.”
“She tricked you? How?”
“I won’t go into the details. The thing is — she has a way of forcing awkward moments in a fun and non-threatening way. I know exactly where I stand with her. Margeaux always kept me guessing.”
“And, she’s kinda cute,” Leon added. “I wouldn’t call her beautiful, but ... cute.”
“Yeah, she’s cute. Her looks match her personality. She’s an imp.”
Carter stood outside Whalen and sent a text message to Valerie. Soon he saw her in the lobby. She wore her short-sleeved, scoop-necked top, a pair of running shorts and flip-flops. He scanned her full, shapely legs. “You coming with me?” she asked.
He followed her to her room. Two girls were sitting in the lounge area. One was using her phone to send a text message. “Hi Maria ... Jess...”
“Oh, hi Carter,” Maria replied. “Nice seeing you again.”
“I brought some music to share with Valerie,” he added. “Is Margeaux around?”
“She’s in her room,” Jess answered. “She said she has a migraine.”
Valerie led Carter into her bedroom. It was small, with room for a twin-sized bed and a small desk. She switched on her speaker dock while Carter manipulated his phone. “I made some playlists,” he said. “First are some tracks off of an album of South American native music from the Andes. They’re playing pan pipes.”
“Pan pipes?” Carter began the playback. Valerie sat on her bed with her back against the wall, her eyes closed. “Oh, wow ... it’s pretty.”
“You can get some of the stereo effect with your dock, but on a good sound system you can really hear it — in order to get a brisk temp, two players trade off notes.”
“I can hear it ... and see it.” She began pointing with her left and right index fingers in time with the music. “It’s beautiful.”
The playlist ended. “I said I wished I could experience music the way you do,” Carter remarked.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Wouldn’t it be neat to write a virtual reality program to do that? If you could figure out how to associate a tone with a color...”
“That’s brilliant, Carter. You know I’m computer engineering major...”
“I thought you were in classes with Leon. He’s in electrical engineering.”
“There is some crossover between the two majors. It’s an idea worth pursuing. I was looking for an independent-study topic. I’ll speak to my advisor about the feasibility of it.” She kissed his cheek. “Thanks for the idea.”
“You build it — I’ll be the first to test it.” He manipulated his phone. “Here’s something I really like,” he said. “This is a fusion group that uses Native American flutes along with modern, western instruments. They also use things like rain sticks and bull roarers.”
“What’s a bull roarer?” she asked.
“It’s a chip of wood or other material on a long cord that’s swung around in a circle making a low-pitched drone.” He started the playback.
“Oh, my God, this is so different from anything I’ve experienced. This is amazing — the layers of sounds and colors ... That low, bass drone — that’s the bull roarer?”
“That it is.”
A knock came at her door. “Come in,” she said.
The door to her room opened and a willowy blonde poked her head through. “Valerie, can you ... Carter — what are you doing here?”
“I’m sharing some music with Valerie. We’ve discovered we’re both music lovers.”
“How nice for you. Valerie, can you turn it down? I have a headache.” Valerie reached for a remote control and turned down the volume. “Thank you.” Margeaux left, pulling the door closed behind her.
“It’s not the same with the volume cranked back,” Valerie noted.
“Agreed. I like feeling music as well as hearing it.” Carter stopped the playback and lifted his phone from her dock. She switched the device off. “We’ll have to figure out something else to do.”
Carter sat on her bed and in a flash Valerie was sitting on his lap. He gazed into her big, wide-set eyes. Then, he tilted his face and kissed her lips.
“You’re perceptive,” she said. “And, a pretty good kisser.” Carter kissed her lips again, this time parting his and running the tip of his tongue along hers. They kissed a third time, rubbing tongues together. “I was wrong,” she said. “You’re not a pretty good kisser.”
“You’re a really good one.”
“You’re no slouch, either. Now, we must know each other well enough for you to show me your so-called elfin ears.”
“Not so-called,” she chided him. “I am an elf and I have elfin ears. If you’re brave enough, take a look.”
Carter parted her thick hair. “Just as I thought — a normal ear.”
“A normal elfin ear,” she replied.
“Elfin ears are pointy.”
“Where have you ever seen a pointy elfin ear?”
“The movie Elf,” he replied.
“Those were actors wearing makeup. They weren’t real elves.”
“In drawings and illustrations.”
“They don’t count.”
“Why not if they’re drawings of real, live elves?”
“Where have you seen a living elf with pointy ears?”
“All right — I haven’t.”
“I am an elf,” she insisted, “and I have elfin ears.”
“You’re not an elf.”
“Prove it. Prove to me I’m not an elf.”
He regarded her for a long moment. “All right — if you say you’re an elf, you’re an elf; and if you’re an elf then obviously you have elfin ears.”
“That’s more like it.” She kissed his cheek.
“You’re either trying to make some philosophical point that’s going right over my head ... or, you’re simply fucking with my mind.”
“That’s for you to figure out.” She smiled and wrinkled her nose. “Care to see any more elfin anatomy?”
Valerie lifted her top over her head and set it on the bed. Underneath she wore a beige bra. Carter regarded her — the modest cleavage her B-cup bra afforded, the muscle definition in her arms and her ribs and abs, barely discernible through the flesh of her abdomen. He slipped a finger under her shoulder strap and began sliding it down her arm.
“Not so fast,” she said. “Before you see any more elfin anatomy, I need to see some non-elfin anatomy.” She began unbuttoning his shirt and then pushed it off his shoulders. Valerie smoothed her hand along his chest, plowing her fingers through a patch of hair that spread across his breasts. “Mmm ... Nice.”
“Before we go too crazy,” he said, “exactly how far do you want to take this tonight?”
“How far do you want to take it?”
“As far as you do — and, no farther. I should tell you, Valerie — I’m not very experienced. I’ve only had one other partner.”
“Margeaux?” she asked.
“As a matter of fact, no. It was a girl I knew in high school.”
“You and Margeaux never...”
“That’s right, and that’s the last I’ll say on the matter.”
“Actually I like that, Carter — you won’t betray a confidence. I like that a lot. I don’t care if you’re inexperienced — I wouldn’t call myself experienced, either. Part of the thrill is exploring and discovering, don’t you think?”
“Yeah ... I’d say so,” he replied.
“So, what would you say if I told you I wanted to take it all the way?”
“I’d say I don’t have any protection. I’m not in the habit of carrying a condom in my wallet.”
“I think one of my roomies has a stash,” she replied. “I’ll go ask ... I won’t bother Margeaux, though.” Valerie stepped into the common lounge and returned shortly with a strip of three condoms. “Maria had some. I told her I’d pay her back.”