My Roommate's Girlfriend

by Tony Tiger

Copyright© 2016 by Tony Tiger

Romantic Sex Story: How my college roommate's hot girlfriend changed my life.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Teenagers   Consensual   Fiction   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   .

I’ve never met anyone like her, before or since. Meg was a pretty, lively, bright bundle of sexual joy.

I live in a sophomore dorm with a roommate Brian who I didn’t know before we were assigned together. He’s a ladies’ man and I’m not, with a total of two instances of intercourse. Two girls and neither one would do a repeat date. Shattered my ego so I don’t even try.

Usually he’d ask me to find another place to be for a while and I’d return to the special smells of sex. Once in a while I’d already be sleeping when he dragged some chick in and I would just listen to her getting shagged. He had a small stable, it seemed, with the occasional one-night-stand, the best I could tell.

Then he brought Meg. When we were introduced she seemed to be looking right into me. Her grip on my hand was firm. With the usual signal, I left for an hour.

When I returned she was still in his bed. My entry woke her and she arose to use the bathroom, walking by my bed naked and beautiful. My roommate was in that deep sleep that comes from plenty of alcohol and sex. Nothing would wake him.

Returning, she stopped by my bed. “May I join you?” was probably the last thing I expected to hear. I raised the sheet and she slipped in, her leg brushing against my erection without an overt reaction.

“I gather you don’t have a girlfriend?” I nodded. She reached for my male part and grasped it oh so tenderly. “Then this must need some help.” Another nod. “May I?”

Damn, what kind of question was that? Her touch alone was almost setting me off. She kissed me, first gently then with more and more passion. In a bit she rolled on top of me and expertly sat down on my rod. It promptly exploded in the grip of a hot velvet glove.

She spoke softly again, just like before, “I guess it likes me. I like it too, so keep it there and we’ll enjoy each other some more.”

Sure enough, I never got soft and she rode me quietly for quite a while as I explored her full and firm breasts and tight buns. It was totally unlike my previous experience with coitus where the female partner simply laid there and let me masturbate into their vagina. This was consuming intimacy that was indescribable. Later I marveled that she could create that with me after fucking my roommate just a short time before. After my final testicular explosion, I fell asleep. In the morning she was gone, except indelibly in my memory.

I didn’t see her for three days when we crossed paths in the student Commons. I bought her an iced tea and didn’t know how to act. She was a mind reader, as I frequently noticed, and got things rolling.

“I hope you enjoyed me the other night.”

I managed, “Enjoyed is a pale word. You were amazing. I didn’t know it could be like that.”

She smiled, “That is my goal, amazing and joyful experiences. I knew you would appreciate me. Your roommate has his good points or I wouldn’t date him. I date several guys to satisfy me in different ways while I look for Mister Right. Oh, your roommate has to use a condom because I’m quite sure he is dipping in other pots, right?” I nodded. “I don’t think you are so there’s no need, right?” I nodded again.

She continued, “There is something I’ve wanted to try for a long time and I think I can make it work with you two guys. Just follow my lead as if the other night never happened. OK?”

I was a bit puzzled but intrigued, so I agreed.

On their next date I made certain to be there when they returned from an outing. I pretended to be sound asleep as they prepared for bed and began copulation. I was rigid as steel hearing the magnificent body I was intimately knowledgeable with being plundered. Her noises were like knives scraping my mind. “I” wanted to be causing them, NOT my roommate! I could picture his big penis thrusting into the special place I sought for myself. There was solace knowing that he was wearing a condom and was thus not directly touching those precious tissues. My rational mind, what there was that was functioning under the circumstances, remembered that there were others that she welcomed inside as well. I heeded her request and was patient.

My roommate was drunk and she was, I learned later, pretending to be, so when he ejaculated she complained that she was unsatisfied. Slurring her words quite convincingly she said she needed to cum and there was another cock right across the room. “I’ll be back for more”, she promised and he dropped off to sleep.

She slipped into my bed and we had another glorious hour of lust. I was in love in spite of the circumstances. When she shuddered to the last of her four orgasms she whispered, “I’m going back to his bed. Sleep well. You will need your energy in the morning.”

Indeed, she was there as we stirred. I put a robe on and started some coffee. My roommate had a big-time hangover. I volunteered to go get some breakfast and when I returned they were fucking on his bed just a few feet from mine. Sunlight lit the room like a porn film. He was on top pumping away and her hips pushed right back with sounds of pleasure to match. His face was buried in her tits as she turned towards me, smiled, and blew me a kiss. I was sitting there stroking my erection in sync with his thrusts. Then I saw that the cock invading my “beloved” was unwrapped. His swinging balls were slapping her ass with each stroke, eager to have their sperm swimming where mine already were.

Twice I saw her tighten her legs around him and whimper in orgasm like she had earlier done with me. Shortly after her second one, he made short strokes and pushed deep, groaning as he emptied his seed in with mine. Meg stared at me without smiling as she felt the hot spurts.

She sat blithely naked on the bed as we ate the food I had obtained. Just very cool and matter-of-fact, as if screwing in front of another man happened every day. Maybe it did for her. How would I know?

After we ate she stood up and twirled her lovely body around like a model. She looked at my roommate and said, “You weren’t enough last night so I fucked your roommate to get what I needed. Have you ever watched a girlfriend get fucked? He just saw you do it. Now it’s your turn to see how I love sex.”

She knew he had little emotional investment in her and she was, as usual, right on target. It was an unforgettable sight with her holding that luscious love flower over my ready spear, cum oozing out and dripping on my spear point as she teased it with little touches and rubs of her engorged labia. Then she slowly and methodically made it disappear inside. I pleasured her breasts and other erogenous places as she fucked me. It was really different, but not better, to have an audience. After I came she got dressed. My roommate had previously complained about wearing a wrapper and she simply said that he was fucking other girls and I wasn’t. This was the only time he’d get her this way. The implications were clear.

I jacked off a lot after she left. Damn I wanted her again.

About twice a week she was in our room happily fucking both of us once or twice, depending on our energy and recovery time. The lights were not always dimmed and she would glance and smile at both of us no matter who was coupled with her. She made no signs that we were both to engage her simultaneously. It was serial screwing.

When I asked her for a date she smiled sweetly as she explained that she didn’t date roommates. I had a puzzled look so she went on to say that what she did with me was simply sex, as if I was just an extra penis for her use. Women are inscrutable sometimes.

This experience had gone on for a few weeks when my roommate explained that he was no longer dating other girls and wanted to dispense with the wrappers. The sex was hot and sloppy. Each of us had her three times by morning, I think.

That never happened again. I didn’t see her for a week until we met in the Commons. She kissed me and said I could ask her out now. She’d discovered my roommate had lied and broke up with him. Dinner plans were made for three nights hence, her earliest availability.

She understood why I didn’t want to take her to my room and led the way to hers in a nearby dorm. She had two roommates who were out at the moment. Her bed was messy with the covers back enough that I could see a towel like she used to keep my bed from sex stains. She apologized and said she’d “napped” just before meeting me. The word “nap” was a euphemism she used with me and my roommate to refer to sex so I doubted it had changed meaning. She simply turned the towel over and straightened the bedclothes before beginning to undress. She could be so practical.

Just like when she’d screwed me in front my roommate, her enthusiasm belied that obvious fact that she done the very thing with someone else a fairly short time earlier. Fucking appeared to be, to her, a fairly simple and quite pleasurable activity for the benefit of all concerned. I’d never heard any expressions of more than simple affection, “liking” if you will, even between herself and my roommate. None given and none expected, apparently.

Having her completely to myself, at least for the evening was a great delight. We’d had a rousing half hour of coupling when I needed to use the bathroom. There were several used condoms in the wastebasket. Of course there were two roommates. But it was not my place to question.

Her roommates returned as she was bobbing on top of me. We were introduced without uncoupling. Dorm rooms were not the apartment style ones like nowadays. Each student had a single bed, a desk and insufficient storage. Thus there was no privacy except in the bathroom.

The new arrivals undressed as if I wasn’t there. Meg whispered gleefully, “It’s normal to look.” I really focused when they got in the same bed, naked as we were.

Meg grinned, “They like guys too but apparently none was available.” The lights were down but I got an eyeful when I wasn’t too occupied with my own partner. We quieted down when they finished and separated for sleep. I didn’t get any signal that Meg was ready to call it a night so I dozed after we came and we put our parts together quietly much later. Then I dressed and kissed her goodbye. That was our first affectionate kiss and it was clearly returned.

I was able to help her with psychology class even though her practical use of that branch of knowledge rated an A. Over time, with diligence on my part, our coital frequency improved to about every other day. I had little doubt she suffered from celibacy when not with me. There was too much circumstantial evidence which she made little effort to disguise. To her, fucking and eating were essential parts of a happy life.

We resumed taking that pleasure in my bed and she was always very civil to my roommate, whether he was alone or with another girl. I don’t know if it was intentional or just practical, but she didn’t cover up when naked in his presence.

While we were affectionate to each other, there was no overlayment of romance. I was concerned that if I displayed too much attachment she might bolt. It was difficult to suppress my emotions with the intense lovemaking in addition to lots of other commonalities in our lives.

I wanted to take her away on spring break but lacked enough resources. She encouraged open discussion of issues so I brought it up.

She brightly said she had an idea she’d check on and had an answer when we’d slaked our lust for the first time that evening. Here is how she put it:

“You have a car to get us to this neat campground by the ocean. It will be busy but we can still get a reservation if we hurry. The guy I went with last year has all the gear, but his car is broken. I will chip in my share for food and expenses.”

She was so practical. I knew from the experience with my roommate that her pussy and libido could easily handle two tentmates.

“I’d like to meet him before I say Yes.”

She texted and said, “Put your clothes on. He’ll be at the Commons in ten minutes.”

Will was a soft-spoken guy, obviously in great shape. I recognized him as the Captain of the swim team. Meg went to get us some coffee. There was a line so we had about ten minutes to get better acquainted.

He said he’d give it a bit of thought but on the surface it could work for him. He’d let us know ASAP.

As we went back to my room I had some questions. Meg said she knew that this was a bit out of the ordinary so we needed to talk it through. She also felt that the same talk would be good for our “relationship”.

I immediately commented that I was pleased that our interactions had advanced to that level. She poked me in the ribs playfully and said that the word had a lot of ambiguity so don’t get overworked. But I knew she hadn’t used it lightly.

We stayed dressed in the room so not to be easily distracted, which being naked has a propensity to do. We did sit close though.

Meg explained that she’d met Will in a Sexual Practices class which was part of her psychology major. It had just seemed to him like an interesting elective for his athletic path. He was a Marine veteran of Afghanistan and his marriage hadn’t survived his deployment.

They were teamed up for the required class project and chose to investigate “wife-sharing”, or “hot-wifing”. She’d tell me more about that another time if I was interested. Of course I was!

Being a normal male in the presence of an attractive female, neither of whom were involved with anyone else, he made efforts to seduce her. When he discovered she was shying away from sex because of several quite disappointing episodes in the past, it took all of his quiet confidence to make her take another chance.

Meg looked dreamy-eyed as she said that night was a total awakening to the wonders of her body with the right person. Kind of really losing her virginity. She restarted her birth-control and had been celebrating for over a year now.

After the initial “rush”, Will had taken on the role of intimate friend and mentor. The opportunity to take a real college-style spring break was right in front of them and they seized it.

On the drive to Florida, he had explained how he could never be her “Mr. Right” and wanted to temper her expectations. Their career paths were too much different. But that in no way demeaned their closeness and, at some level, love for each other.

The beachside campground was beautiful and often raucous with partying young people. With no competing demands, they made love whenever, and often wherever, they could. On the beach by moonlight was romantic. In the tent with people talking right outside was erotic.

He’d been here before and went looking for some old friends. Up front he told her that he might get laid if the right ones were there.

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