Lola's Dormitory
Editor's Forward: This was based on a prompt that can be found here. I've added italics to that portion.
Nobody ever told you that being the resident advisor for an all-girls college dorm would be so much work. You sigh as you review the details of the latest problem: somebody has been breaking into the dorm and stealing things. You don't have much to go on, but it seems that the intruder is definitely male. The details of the thefts are hazy and it's somewhat unclear what has actually been stolen (if anything) but you need to follow it up for security reasons, if nothing else.
One other key point emerges: there has never been any sign of breaking and entering. Whoever the thief is, it's likely that he has an accomplice on the inside.
You spot a group of girls in the hallway. Perhaps they can shed some light? You tell them about the thefts. “I know a little about the intruder, but not much,” you say.
“Is he young, a little shorter than average, with sandy hair and blue eyes?” Catherine asks.
“And with a really cute b- I mean, cute freckles?” asks Megan.
That seems very specific. Perhaps you're onto something. “I don't know,” you say, “but it sounds like that could be him. Have you seen anybody like that?”
The girls all exchange glances.
“Nope.”
“Sorry.”
“Can't help you.”
“Haven't seen anyone.”
You stare at them all for a moment. They look blandly back at you.
“Well, if you have any information, be sure and let me know,” you say. “Theft is a serious matter.”
You return to your room in a foul mood and try to work. Eventually you realize you're tired, and go to bed.
You wake up groggy and confused. Somebody has switched on the light.
“I hear you've been asking about me,” a voice says. “I thought I'd come and pay you a visit. I'm Marcus.”
He's sitting on your desk with one foot propped on your chair. He looks exactly as the girls described him. You jump out of bed, remembering just in time to grab a blanket and wrap it around yourself.
Your initial fear is giving way to anger. “You broke into my room!” you say. “I should call the authorities!”
“Authorities,” he says, grinning. “Let's see. This is a residence hall, so I guess an authority would be a resident advisor.” He looks theatrically shocked. “Why, that's you!” He stands up and walks to the middle of the room. “Well, here I am.” He holds out his arms. “Do as you like with me. I'm at your mercy.” He turns around in a slow circle.
He really does have a cute- you snap back into focus and raise your eyes to his face, just in time. “I could call campus security,” you say.
“You could,” he says. His grin does not diminish. “If they were cops, they could arrest me. Since they aren't, they'll most likely give me a stern lecture and escort me out. That would end our little encounter. Unfortunate, but I know you have responsibilities.” He picks up a phone - your phone - from the desk. He walks across the room and hands it to you, his eyes not leaving yours. “Call them, if you want.”
You can't seem to move. “I am responsible for these girls,” you say. “They're young and trusting. I can't have you-”
“You're not dialing,” he says, moving closer. “You're not protecting them. You're not even thinking of them. You're just following orders, aren't you? A cog in the great machine that is Catherine.”
“Catherine.” Your voice catches.
“That's right,” he says, grinning. “You're one of them.”
You try to swallow, to speak, to do anything at all, but your mouth is full of cotton. Your knees are weak. You need to focus. You need to think of something.
“Well, I'm not going anywhere,” he says. He steps even closer. His breath is on your face. He reaches out and touches your cheek.
He strolls casually around the room, looking at the various pictures on the walls. You notice that his face is still covered with makeup. “You have quite a collection of goth and emo paraphernalia.”
“That's not... I'm sorry, but that's not something I'd like to discuss.”
He pauses in front of a framed picture of your roommate, a pretty girl with long brown hair and braces. He runs a finger over the picture, smiling. “Ah. I see the resemblance.”
You stand up. You can't be bothered to look at him. “I should call campus security.”
“Oh, you will,” he says, still smiling. “I just want you to know what you're giving up for this girl.”
He turns around to face you, still smiling that charming, slightly creepy smile. You are frozen in place, rooted to the spot, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.
He strolls to the door and stops, looking at you. Your mind is blank. There's nothing to think about. Nothing to strategize. Nothing to do.
He steps outside your room. You listen as the door shuts. You sit on your bed and try to think of something - anything - that will make you feel better. But you can't think of anything.
What if you're not strong enough to fight him off? What then? You've never been in a fight before. You're not even sure you could hurt him, but what other options do you have? Call security? Go for your weapon? Hide under your bed?
You could do that. He'd never find you. It's a longshot, but it's better than sitting here, doing nothing.
But still, you don't move. You stay in the chair, motionless, until you hear the lock turn on your front door. He's back. You hear him stop in the hallway, a few steps behind you. You spin around, ready to confront him, and nearly lose your balance as you stand up straight.
He's wearing slacks and a button up shirt, like any other middle-school student. His eyes are fixed on you. He chuckles. “That was fast.”
“You didn't lock the door,” you point out.
“I figured I'd come back inside,” he says, “But I see you figured you'd get your chance sooner rather than later. Smart.”
“I'm serious.”
He raises an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, I see.”
You can't help but wrinkle your nose in distaste. “I don't need to explain myself to you.”
“Well, you're already here.” He shifts his weight and leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. His eyes are fixed on you, watching you work.
He grins. You hate that grin. “It's fun to watch you squirm.”
You can't be bothered to respond to that.
“Anyway,” he says, grinning. “I've been thinking.”
You grunt.
“I mean, you're new here,” he says, winking. “I'm the resident expert, after all. I'd hate for you to miss out.”
“Miss out on what?” You're practically shouting now.
He sighs. “Look, it can be just us regulars, right? You know, for fun. We can do stuff you wouldn't do otherwise.”
You're practically giddy with excitement. “Stuff like what?”
He grins. “I don't know. What do you think? We can, like, go to parties, and stuff.”
You're practically salivating. “Yeah! Yes! Please, can we?”
“Maybe, maybe.” He grins. “It's up to you, really.”
“I want to,” you blurt out. “I mean, I really, really want to.”
He leans closer. You back up a step, and he shifts closer. You take another step back, and he follows.
You feel trapped. There's no way out of this hallway, and that boy is coming after you. You're going to faint if you don't get some air.
Suddenly, the boy grabs your shoulders. He leans in and kisses you. His lips feel cool at first, but soon they heat up and felt good. You kiss back. His hands grab and knead your shoulders. You like that. A lot.
When the kiss ends, he grins at you. You want to throw yourself at him, but you know you can't. Not yet.
“Come on,” he says, “I'll show you around.”
You follow him, more than a little reluctant.
The dorms aren't as nice as the apartments at home. Well, okay, they're nice. But there's no dishwasher working in your mom's basement that you can afford. Still, you think about that kiss. You've never kissed anyone else. Well, besides Mallox, but Mallox was nothing like this. This boy could be your first real boyfriend. Your mind races with possibilities.
But you quickly push those thoughts away. You're not ready for any of this.
Marcus leads you to your dorm room. This room is nice, on the larger side. The bed is on the far side, so you have to walk past his bed to go into the bathroom. His bed has a footstool with a blanket folded down from the head of the bed, and he's sitting on the end of the bed.
He clears his throat when you walk by. You ignore it.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” he asks.
“No,” you say, “Why?”
“Oh, I was just thinking that we could be, like, roomates.”
You almost snort with derisive laughter, but you hold it in. “I see where this is going, but no.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” you say, your voice calm and steady, “I don't like you.”
He looks hurt. “Why?”
“I said no, okay? Do I have to repeat myself? Please, do I have to spell it out for you?”
He rubs his cheek. “I wasn't trying to be mean.”
You roll your eyes. “You weren't. And you weren't trying to be cute, either. So forget I mentioned it.”
He sighs. “You're going to hate me in a few days,” he says. “I'll try to be nice to you then.”
“Yeah, sure,” you say, not even bothering to look at him. You go into your room and close the door.
You hear him sigh again. You ignore it.
You hear the door open and close.
You change out of your school clothes into comfy clothes, and then you curl up on your bed and go to sleep.
You wake up late. You didn't sleep well. In fact, your entire four-day weekend was spent sleeping, and that's fine because sleeping gives you energy for today.
You go into the bathroom and brush your teeth. You look at yourself in the mirror. You're a pretty girl, with long, dark hair that you wear in two long braids. You have slightly darker skin than most, but that's a good thing. Your green eyes are your best feature, and you have a lot of energy. You're always on the go, ready for a good time.
You get ready for school. You have Spanish, and you meet Catherine in the lobby, carrying her backpack.
“Hey, Cate,” you say, “I'm going to miss you.”
“I'm going to miss you, too.”
“Will you write me?”
“Yeah,” she says, “I will.”
You give her a hug, and she pulls away before you let go. You walk into the hallway together.
Catherine is more than a friend. In fact, she's your first real girlfriend, and you're not sure you're ready for this.
You walk out to the early morning courtyard, and look up at the clear, starry sky. You breathe in the crisp air; it's a nice October morning. You go into the courtyard, and sit on the stairs, leaning back against the wall. You wait for the other girls to come out.
Megan and Olivia come out about ten minutes later. They're talking about a boy they know. You can't understand a word they're saying, but you don't need to. They'll talk about this boy for months to come. You're glad you don't have to be in the same room as them.
Soon, you see Cate walking out, and she sits next to you.
“I can't decide whether I want to kill him or kiss him,” she says, “but I think I'll go with the kiss.”
“Smart,” you say, “Just be sure to knock him up first.”
She punches you in the shoulder. “You're such a jerk.”
You both spend the next five hours in each other's arms until you have to leave for class.
That first day of school, you meet your dorm advisor. She's a nice lady, smart, pretty. You don't bother to conceal the fact that you hate her. Every time she speaks, you roll your eyes.
It doesn't matter. She gives you the tour, and gives you permission to move in.
It's the end of the school year. You are a Senior.
You have been in this school for four years, and it was the best four years of your life. You got good grades, made good friends, and had fun.
As you walk out of school with your friends, you wonder if you'll remember any of this in a few months.
You get into your car. Catherine and Olivia are driving you home, since your mom works until midnight. You're going to miss your dorm, but you've been there for so long that it feels like home. It won't be so bad.
They chat about boys and teachers. Cate complains about her math teacher. Olivia complains about the boy she likes, and hopes he'll ask her out.
“Do you think he will, at least?” she asks.
“Are you a dork?” you ask.
“A little bit,” she laughs.
You and Cate chat non-stop during the ride, and you end up staying on the phone for almost an hour. You spend the rest of the evening at Cate's house. Her parents go to bed, and she takes you into her room. You make out for quite a while, and she ends up going down on you.
You've kissed a girl before. The physical side of romance is starting to kick in, but you don't care. This is so much better than kissing boys. You've kissed plenty of boys before, and the physical side of romance was always so uncomfortable. You don't care if she's a girl or a boy. You just want to feel good.
Morning comes early, and you go into Cate's bathroom to get ready for school.
You hear her in there, talking to herself. You ask if you can jump in the shower quickly, and she replies, “Yeah, go ahead.”
You get in and hope she joins you. You get the soap and shampoo and start your shower. You get out and get dressed. Then, you hear someone else get in the shower. You look in the mirror and laugh at the two of you.
You get out and dress quickly, and then step into her bathroom.
“Sorry, I got here before you,” you say.
“No problem,” she replies, “I took the fastest shower ever.”
You sit down on the couch. She sits in the chair across from you. She asks you what you've been up to.
“I just moved into my dorm room,” you say.
“I have been thinking about you in that shower,” she says, smiling seductively, “come over here.”
You stand up and walk over to her. She takes your hand and pulls you down so that you're sitting on the floor in front of her. She starts rubbing your crotch through your pants.
“You are so wet,” she says, “I want to taste you.”
She unbuttons your pants and pulls them down. She unclips your belt and opens your pants. She runs her hands through your pubic hair and pushes your legs apart. She licks her lips, and then unbuttons your shirt and pushes your pants down farther. She licks her lips and rubs her tongue along your collar bone. She unbuttons your shirt and pulls it off. She pushes your pants off your hips, and bites your inner thigh gently. She licks the resulting skin, and tastes your essence.
You put your hands on her bare legs and push her down to lick her navel. You start to unbutton her pants and pull them down. You take her pants and turn them so that the elastic band is at the base of her butt. You push them down her legs and off her hips. She steps out of her pants. She steps out of her shirt, and steps out of her pants. You pull her to the bed and climb on top of her. You put your hands on her bare breasts and start to rub them through her bra.
She pushes your hands away and kisses you. She bites your lip gently, and pushes you away. She takes off her bra and climbs on top of you, kissing you.
“Kama sutra,” she whispers in your ear, “I learned it from a book.”
You climb on top of her and start to rub her body with yours. She puts her legs around your waist. You slowly start to move your hips. As your groove, she pushes your vagina against hers. She moans as you push. She bucks her hips. She screams as you thrust.
You climax, and she climaxes. You don't stop moving until you hear the shower running.
You laugh and get off of her. You pull your pants up and climb out of her room. You find your way to the bathroom, and then close the door. You check your reflection in the mirror. You look happy. You feel happy.
You go to bed, and sleep.
You are Lola. You are Female. You are 23 years old. You are a detective with the “Redhood” Detective Agency.