Our Hotwives

Hey folks, I've been kicking this idea around for a while now and finally decided to put pen to paper and write the damn thing. I intended this to be a slow burn, similar to Odeon's "Deep Down Inside" .. but I may have gone way overboard on the slowness factor. I want to cultivate a deep investment in our star couple before they succomb to total depravity. Whether I'm successful or not remains to be seen!

SYNOPSIS: a progressive feminist couple decides to try and bring their incel housemate out of his shell; it backfires, and she ends up becoming fodder for him to act out his misogynistic fantasies upon.

PROLOGUE

I never had a girlfriend in high school, but I did have a few girls who were friends. Some of them became really close to me and talked candidly about their trials and tribulations in the world of boys. I’m not sure why the category “boys” didn’t seem to include me, but that’s how it was.

I entered college with my most sexually explicit memory of the opposite sex being an incidental brush of a breast against my torso, as I comforted my best friend about succumbing to some fuckboy’s advances.

My male friends in high school all ridiculed me for my lack of success when it came to women. One of them pointed out that since I wanted to be having sex but wasn’t getting any, that technically made me an “incel”. This infuriated me to no end; the term was loaded with all sorts of connotation. It conjured in my mind a fat, basement-dwelling virgin with poor hygiene in his late twenties or thirties, who spent his time venting his misogynistic views on women on anonymous online forums.

That wasn’t how I saw myself at all, and I don’t think any of the girls who were friends with me saw me in those terms either. I definitely wasn’t disrespectful towards women the way “incel” culture implied. I just hadn’t met the right girl… yet.

Although my friends were kind of dicks and liked to give me a hard time, I did have one good friend, Michael, who would reassure me about all this stuff. Mike’s theory was that I was just too mature for high school girls. “College will be your time dude, trust me.”

Mike turned out to be right! I used the anonymity of college as an opportunity to reinvent myself; nobody there knew me as a perpetually friendzoned virgin. And I did have a lot of experience talking to girls, at least; it just had never seemed to develop into a romantic or sexual scenario.

The experience paid off. College girls saw me as mature and experienced. I didn’t flinch the way other guys did when they talked about getting their periods, or act weird and jealous if they discussed past sexual encounters they’d had. I was seen as a catch! I knew the tides had turned when I was chatting up a cute girl at a party, and she asked if she could kiss me.

CHAPTER 1 - MORGAN AND ME

By sophomore year, I’d formed real bonds with male friends for the first time: substantive relationships that could become lifelong friendships, in contrast to the assholes I had crewed around with in high school. I also made out with a half dozen of my classmates, and lost my virginity to one of them. It was all on the order of casual, no-strings-attached hookups; my younger self would scarcely have believed my fortune

As great and paradigm-shifting as all this was, the real life-changing event was when I met Morgan.

Morgan, the love of my life.

She was so alluring to me, so physically and emotionally attractive, that I almost reverted to my nervous high school mentality and the lack of self-confidence that came with it.

I suddenly had no interest in those random girls at parties. I only wanted Morgan... if only I could work up the courage and talk to her.

And wouldn’t you know it, she was as shy to talk to me as I was to talk to her, and for the same reasons. Not to be corny, but it seemed like we’d been destined to be together. We pushed through the mutual awkwardness and got to know each other because we just had to.

I won’t go into the details of our courtship. It was a whirlwind romance and the gist was that after a month, Morgan and I were officially dating. We were unstoppable, inseparable, joined at the hip.

As sophomores we had better options available to us for student housing. I had gotten particularly lucky and lived in a suite-style dorm: four single rooms that all shared a living space, including kitchen and bathroom. Morgan wasn’t quite as fortunate and shared a room with a roommate; at least it was her close friend Emily and not some rando like we’d all been paired with freshman year.

But anyway, the fact that at least one of us had a single bedroom, with its own private locking door, meant lots of opportunity for sex between Morgan and I. Unlike the hazy, alcohol-tinged sex I’d had when I lost my virginity the previous year, we got to really dig in and get to know each other.

—

Sex with Morgan was amazing. Despite having a fantastic body, Morgan was shy about her appearance and dressed in a manner that played down her boobs and butt. But she mustered the courage to push through her shyness, letting me peel off her clothing and reveal her nudity to me, rendering my heart a puddle, my dick a leaking rod of adamantine.

It also proved exciting for Morgan to a degree that made it clear she was discovering something about herself she hadn’t realized before. “Oh, god..” she gasped as the fabric slipped over her bare breasts, bringing them into view for the first time. Looking from my eyes, to her own chest to see what I was seeing, her breath ragged and labored. That her naked body was being seen turned her on severely.

After favoring her luscious tits with attention from my mouth and hands, I made to undress Morgan’s lower half. First, her pants, loose and not too form-fitting. Morgan in her underwear for the first time, texture of a patch of pubic hair visible through the thin cotton fabric. “Tyler…” she pleaded when I began tugging them down her hips.

She covered herself with the blanket. Too modest for me to see her completely naked. Just showing me her breasts had been a serious adventure.

That first time going all the way together, I would only learn her bottom half by touch.

She felt better than I could have imagined. I had to pause frequently and conjure unsexy images to mind, to keep orgasm at bay. Seeing the effect she had on me delighted Morgan and boosted her confidence. She giggled and moaned hungrily every time I’d suddenly withdraw from her or seize her hips to hold her still to keep the stimulation from making me bust. Eyes shining, chewing on her lip. Her cumming was completely out of the question; I could barely get a steady rhythm going before I’d have to pause and calm myself down.

Comparing notes afterwards, though, we were both blown away by the experience.

Even better was working through our respective sexual barriers together over the subsequent weeks.

For Morgan, the hurdle she had to overcome was me seeing her naked. We had sex three times before I’d be graced by the sight of her pussy.

This was something we had become close and open enough to discuss outside of the bedroom. She wanted to be naked for me, wanted to be seen, but the thought terrified her as well. What if I thought her vagina looked ugly? What if I wanted to kiss her “down there”, and I didn’t like the way she smelled or tasted? She was beet-red as she confessed these fears to me.

With Morgan’s hands in mine, I put all my reinvented college self’s confidence behind my words. “I will love the way you smell,” I told her, trying to keep hidden the panic I felt at speaking so directly about her anatomy. “I know I will, because every time we have sex you get so excited that your scent fills the entire room.”

“Oh my god Tyler..” she protested in embarrassment.

I pushed on. “Morgan, just thinking about it right now is getting me so hot for you. I already know what you smell like. I want more of it so fucking bad.”

“O-okay??”

“So this is what we’re going to do. We’re going to go back to my room, and you’re going to get naked for me. Above the covers. And I’m going to get between your legs so I can get to know you up close.”

“Tyler!” she hissed. “I don’t know if I can. I’m scared.” But she offered no resistance as I led her by her hand. The girl of my dreams was just letting me march her to my room, to do sex stuff. The entire notion of this was still novel enough to make the proceedings feel dreamlike.

“On a scale of one to ten, how turned on are you right now?” I asked her, pushing the moment, wallowing in it.

“Like, a thousand?!”

“It’s okay baby, we’re going to get through this together.”

Where was this confidence coming from?? It was like the more Morgan acted submissive towards me, the more I was able to assume the role of her commanding lover.

Morgan’s Pussy Reveal was a whole adventure for us both..

“I was already super embarrassed to show you,” she protested. “And that was before I. well, fuck, just look…” She was still in her underwear, but her excitement had soaked through and created a dark patch in the gusset of her panties. Hunched over in my bed, looking down at herself, her legs splayed apart.

“Fuck Morgan I am, I am looking,” I moaned, moving closer to her and tracing my hands along the patch of wetness as she shuddered. “You look so fucking hot. Can I please take these off and look at your.. At your pussy??”

Her eyes were huge at my utterance, my terminology. “Please do it,” she almost spat the words.

Lifting her butt so I could draw her panties down and off her body. Her legs pressed together. A tidy bush, a triangle that disappeared between her lovely thighs.

I traced my fingers through her pubes. “I’m so excited to see you, Morgan. I’m going to open your legs.”

She just nodded as I moved her limbs.

She was fucking soaked.

“Morgan, you’re fucking soaked,” I raved.

“Tyler, don't look!” she protested, covering her face in her hands. But even as she said it, her legs opened even wider for me, and her hips tilted to thrust her pussy towards me involuntarily. Her cute little asshole even winked into view.

There was no point in even trying to hold back, on my end. I dove in and began devouring her as I immediately began blowing ropes onto the bed, no contact with my penis having been required to prompt the eruption. It was the most sexually excited I’d ever been. And even post-orgasm, I lost none of my erection or sexual zeal. Amidst Morgan’s alternating protests and encouragements, I worked myself up to yet another climax as she ground her cunt into my face and fed me her cum.

—

We were pretty much off to the races. We learned a lot about each other and ourselves, sexually.

It turned out that I could actually last okay while we were having sex, provided I bust a load during foreplay. So I was sort of overcoming my barrier as well (my barrier being cumming too quickly when we had sex).

It turned out that Morgan’s shyness about her body belied a hidden exhibitionism. She loved showing me her body, and that it somewhat embarrassed her only enhanced the excitement.

I did everything I could think of to take advantage of it. I turned up all the lights in my bedroom and made her spread her pussy open for me with her hands while I hovered in close. I’d describe to her what I was seeing in graphic detail. As she’d begin writhing and flooding herself with excitement in response, I’d rebuke and admonish her for being so turned on by exhibiting herself.

Actually naming and articulating our sexual endeavors, as we were performing them, was practically as exciting as the acts themselves.

When I told Morgan I had taken notice of, and adored the incidental appearance of her asshole during these interactions, she just about died of shame. I would hear none of it. “I was kind of hoping you’d react like that,” I said. “You know what this means, right?”

“Tyler, no!” she protested. But she did know, and her hips had started the involuntarily little thrusts that she does when she’s beyond turned on by the thought of something.

“You have to turn over and show me.”

“Oh my god.”

“You have to spread your ass cheeks apart so I can look at your cute little butthole.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh my god.” But she was doing it. She rolled onto her belly and grasped a cheek in each hand. “Like this???”

I wasn’t looking at her, yet; I was whispering in her ear. “You have to ask me to look.”

“Tyler?!”

“You have to fucking beg me to look at you, Morgan.”

A deep sigh; a moan that sounded equally like arousal and despair. “Please fucking looking at my asshole up close Tyler!!!!!” she sobbed. And I was blasting ropes across her back and into her hair before I had even maneuvered down her body to fulfill the request.

We were obsessed. We spent all day looking forward to retreating into the privacy of my bedroom so that we could worship her body together. We were vocal and communicative about everything. I gushed to her about how exciting her sight, smell, and taste were to me. Not that she needed me to tell her, given the loads I was continuously blowing in her presence.

Our dirty talk also involved me shaming her for being a “bad girl”, as if being naked with her boyfriend was some morally decrepit act. Neither of us believed this to be the case, of course, but there was something extraordinarily taboo about roleplaying as if we did. So I’d offer reprimand and beratement over the fact that she was showing me her intimate parts, and for being the type of girl whose pussy got embarrassingly wet from having her boyfriend look at it, and for being so depraved as to be aroused by the very castigations I was in the process of uttering, and so on.

I was also sure to provide loving aftercare, always checking in to make sure our risque banter was within her comfort zone; to make sure she’d not felt her honor too sullied.

Of course, sex wasn’t everything between Morgan and I. We also were developing a deep and mature friendship. We had sophisticated conversations about politics, history, philosophy, and they all seemed to hold tremendous import and gravity. You know, the usual college thing where you’re certain the stoned debate in some kid’s dorm holds the key to unlocking the universe’s secrets. But that was how we experienced the world and each other.

This made our dirty talk in bed even kinkier, by contrast. In our public lives, Morgan and I would have identified as progressives, as feminists. We believed it was a woman’s choice to show or not show her body, and that women had a right to #FreeTheNipple and not be sexualized for doing so. That was pretty much the mainstream view on a liberal art school campus like ours, so it made it feel just a little spicier when we privately played up the idea that Morgan was a “bad girl” for owning ladyparts.

CHAPTER 2 - A KISS ON THE CHEEK

There was one mutual acquaintance of ours who definitely went against the grain when it came to the social and political norms at our school. That was my suitemate, Ollie.

As I mentioned there were four single rooms in our suite. Bobby, Andrew and I had been fairly close but we’d needed a fourth person to claim the suite, and Ollie had been available. We thought he seemed like a decent enough guy.

We were wondering if we’d been wrong.

He was antisocial. He didn’t really gel with the dynamic of the rest of the guys. We made some attempt to encourage him to do his share of the household chores, but eventually we just gave up; it was easier for the three of us to just pick up some extra slack rather than deal with his sullen confrontations.

He spent most of his time alone in his room with the door closed. When among us, he’d make untoward remarks about women. This was something we’d normally just ignore, but he particularly seemed to have it out for Morgan. Whenever she was around, he’d without fail find some cause to make a vaguely sexist gesture or remark. Just an eye-roll or sarcastic quip – never quite at the level where I felt the need to address it – until suddenly the line was crossed.

The tipping point came when Morgan overheard him making a rude comment about her. Morgan and I had arrived at the suite believing it to be empty; we’d locked ourselves in my room and had a particularly steamy sex session. Afterwards, Morgan ventured into the suite’s common area to use the bathroom, donning a towel in case any of the guys returned home.

“What’s going on?” I asked when she got back. Something was obviously wrong; an appalled expression on her face.

“So, uh, I guess Ollie is home?!”

“Oh, shit.” We’d been louder than usual, thinking we had the suite to ourselves. “Did you run into him?”

“No, but I heard him talking in his room. He was talking about me! Tyler, he called me a slut!”

“...What the fuck?”

“I think the exact words were ‘I can hear my roommate fucking his slut girlfriend again’.” From anger or shame, her face reddening.

“What. The. FUCK.”

“Yep. I’m not a slut, Tyler! Ugh, who the fuck does he think he is?!”

I sighed. God dammit, Ollie. “I suppose I need to say something to him.”

“Well, yeah! It’s super fucking disrespectful.”

“I’m so sorry, Morgan. I’ll talk to him.”

“He kind of creeps me out, Tyler. I mean can you imagine if he overheard the things we were saying to each other? I’d just die! He needs to stop acting like such a fucking incel and get out of his room and go have a social life.”

Her words stopped me short. Pronouncing him an “incel” awakened the old sting of the high school taunting I’d endured.

“I don’t know if Ollie is an incel, exactly,” I heard myself saying. Why the heck was I defending this guy? “Maybe he just hasn’t come out of his shell yet, ya know?”

But even as I was talking, I knew she was right. Ollie was practically the definition of an incel. He fulfilled the stereotype in terms of his appearance, his lifestyle, his views on women.

“Well regardless, he sure acts like one,” Morgan huffed. “But yeah, I’m basically saying the same thing. He needs to come out of his shell and start acting like a human being, and then maybe he’ll stop being so toxic towards us.”

I hadn’t realized she was so affected by the dynamic he brought about. I promised her I would talk to him.

—

The talk with Ollie didn’t go well.

“Morgan was eavesdropping on me?!” was his response when I confronted him.

“...Of course not. She just happened to be walking by your room and heard you saying something disrespectful.”

“Well what the fuck am I supposed to do about that? I’m not allowed to have my own private thoughts? And discuss them with my friends from home?”

“Not if those private thoughts involve you calling Morgan a slut within her earshot.”

“Well maybe she shouldn’t act like one within my earshot.”

This was getting nowhere. I bit back a number of angry rebuttals that popped into my head. I decided to try another tack. “Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry we were being loud, that’s not respectful either. We didn’t know you were home.”

“It’s fine, dude.” He turned back to his laptop, cutting off any further conversation.

Morgan was not pleased when I recounted the interaction to her. In her view Ollie owed her an apology, but I’d ended up apologizing to him instead.

The atmosphere in the suite grew increasingly fraught, especially when Bobby and Andrew weren’t around to help dilute the tension.

—

“I’m ashamed of how I acted about the whole Ollie thing,” Morgan surprised me by saying one day, while we were walking home from class.

“What do you mean? You didn’t do anything.”

“Well but, exactly! Instead of doing something about it myself like an adult, I made you go confront him on my behalf.”

This particularly stung because I know she hadn’t been exactly impressed with the result of that confrontation.

“I’m always happy to stand up for us,” I said, trying not to sound like I was arguing with her. “And, I’m also totally supportive if you want to talk to him directly instead. I don’t, like, think it’s emasculating or some stupid notion like that.”

Morgan was nodding. “Good, I’m glad you said that. Because that’s the sort of stupid thing Ollie probably believes in, you know? That’s part of what I can’t let go, the idea that we played into his, like, patriarchal notions of how it’s the man’s responsibility to say something when I’m the one who felt insulted.”

I squeezed her hand assuringly and waited for her to continue.

Morgan’s suggestion surprised me. Her premise was that Ollie was going to keep being difficult and obnoxious so long as he was the odd man out in our suite’s micro-community. If we expected warmth and respect from him, we’d have to offer it in kind.

That was my Morgan. Generous to a fault. Lots of room in her heart for optimism towards others.

So we procured some alcohol and exhorted Ollie into joining us in a drinking game.

All of this was more of an ordeal than you might think. For one thing, we were college sophomores, which meant we were all just under the legal drinking age. We’d have to beg a favor from an older student; this took some asking around, but I was able to arrange it.

More difficult was convincing Ollie to hang out.

“Hey Ollie, we’re going to play some cards and have some shots. Are you in?”

A snort as he half-turned from his computer to regard me. “What, like a drinking game? Nah.”

“Come on, why not?”

“Uhhh, drinking games are stupid?”

“In general, I agree. But it won’t be stupid if you play with us. We’re fun people, you’re going to have a fun time, I promise.”

“Nah, I’m good, dude.”

I looked helplessly at Morgan, who sprang into action.

“Alright Ollie, on your feet young man,” she said with a shocking amount of command in her voice. “Sorry, but hanging out with us is mandatory tonight. It just fucking is.”

Bobby and Andrew had been following this little confrontation as it developed, and were howling with laughter from the suite’s common area. Morgan had always been a big hit with those two from the moment I started bringing her around, but the vibe had gone a bit sour due to the tension between her and Ollie. I was earnestly hoping Morgan’s idea would work because it would be good to get things back on track in our living space.

“Ugh, come on Morgan,” Ollie protested. “I don’t want to-”

“It’s fucking mandatory, Ollie!” Andrew shouted from the other room, followed by more guffaws.

“Come on, Ollie,” Morgan persisted. “If it’s not fun you don’t have to keep playing with us. Just give it a chance.”

Peer pressure is a helluva drug; the five of us pulled up chairs around the suite’s dining table and dealt the cards.

The drinking game we played is a demonic invention known as “Asshole”. You are welcome to look up the rather complex system of rules if you’re curious, but the gist was that during every round, one player was designated as the President and another as the Asshole. Being the Asshole meant you were going to have to drink a lot, and being the President meant that you had broad discretion to induce everybody else to drink and perform other forfeits of your design, at your say-so.

For a while, it went well. We got into an ebullient mood that was so sufficiently infections; even Ollie was grinning broadly. We were getting very drunk, very quickly.

The problem with Asshole is that it’s a game designed to allow and encourage the infliction of casual cruelty, both by its rules and by the attendant inhibition-lessening lubricant of alcohol. In the ideal circumstance, this was all in good fun, but occasionally things went a little too far.

It was Ollie’s first time playing the game and he’d actually been doing quite well, but during this particular round Ollie was Asshole while Bobby was President. As we played the cards, Ollie let loose a zinger at Bobby’s expense. I don’t remember what exactly he said, but it had been quite well-timed and we all erupted in laughter.

“Oh yeah?? It’s funny?!” Bobby’s eyes lit up with performed outrage. “Fine. As President, I command you to pound the rest of that fuckin bottle.”

There were a good five or six shots left in the bottle we’d been using to pour. Drinking the rest of it was a tall order; far in excess of any drinking forfeit that had been required so far.

“You can’t make him do that!” Morgan protested. “He’ll, like, die!”

“Good!” Bobby thundered. “I hope he fuckin’ dies, after what he said to me.”

An even heartier eruption of laughter ensued at this statement, from everyone but Ollie. Ollie just shouted “FINE,” and began chugging the remainder of the whiskey.

“Ollie, be careful,” Morgan choked out while continuing to laugh hysterically.

Ollie didn’t complete the forfeit. He suddenly set the bottle down, his eyes wide, a horrible realization dawning in his mind.

“Oh n-” he tried to say, but instead of the vowel, what came out was his dinner. All over himself and the table.

“Oh shit, Ollie!” Morgan cried. She leapt to her feet and ran to the kitchen for paper towels. Bobby and Andrew just laughed even harder, punctuating their laughter with “Dude!” and “Nasty!”

“FUCK you guys,” Ollie stormed off into the bathroom. A moment later we heard the shower running.

Morgan returned with the paper towels and, grabbing a wad for herself, thrust the roll at Bobby. “Great job, President. You better hope he doesn’t fall in the shower and break his neck.”

Bobby was apologetic, but wanted it noted that the night’s events were surely destined to be the stuff of legend, just based on the sheer volume and distance of Ollie’s projectile vomit if nothing else. None of us cared to argue.

Ollie finished his shower and marched straight into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

“Ugh, see, you idiots made the whole night backfire,” Morgan said. She looked from Bobby to Andrew and I expectantly, but we all sort of gaped at her, not knowing what she was expecting.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll go talk to him. I swear, you men and your emotional intelligence..”

“Fuck off!” cried Ollie when Morgan rapped at his door.

“Ollie, can I please just talk to you for a few seconds?”

I couldn’t hear the subsequent exchange but Ollie shortly opened his door and Morgan slipped inside. I helped the other boys finish cleaning up.

“Hey Tyler, what do you think she’s saying to him?” Andrew wisecracked after a bit. “Better go in there and make sure Ollie isn’t seducing your girlfriend.”

More giggling ensued, but I scolded them as I bit down my laughter. “Dude shut up, you’re gonna get us in trouble,” I whispered emphatically. “We can’t keep clowning on Ollie like this.” The idea of Ollie having any sort of seductive powers whatsoever was pretty funny, I had to admit.

All that said, I was pretty curious how their conversation was going. After enough time passed for it not to seem a reaction to Andrew’s remark, I approached Ollie’s door as well, and knocked. Immediately after knocking I felt embarrassed for having done so – why would Ollie and Morgan need privacy from me? – and opened the door.

Morgan was sitting with Ollie on his bed; he was wearing his characteristically sullen expression.

“You okay, dude?” I asked.

“I fucking told you drinkin games were stupid,” he moaned.

I laughed. “Okay okay, you win. You went out like a legend though man. Maybe you’ll get Bobby back next time.”

“Yeah right, like I would ever play that with you idiots again.”

“See? Why do you have to be so mean about everything?” Morgan protested. “First I’m a ‘slut’, now I’m an ‘idiot’. Can’t you say something nice about me instead?”

He shrugged, completely unphased by Morgan bringing up the whole ‘slut’ thing. “I didn’t mean you. And who cares, anyway? You have Tyler to say nice stuff to you.”

Morgan and I just gaped at each other. Where was he coming up with this shit?

“Ollie, just because I’m Tyler’s girlfriend doesn’t mean I don’t want to have a nice and respectful relationship with you as well. You know guys and girls can be friends outside of just, like, sex, right? Now say something nice to me!”

Morgan’s choice of words seemed a little strange to me, but perhaps I’d missed some conversational context. I was completely stunned by what Ollie said next.

“Okay,” he said, a malicious grin suddenly lighting up his features. “You have a nice ass.”

Time stood still for a moment.

“Dude, what the fuck!” I exclaimed while Morgan buried her face in her hands

“What?! She said to compliment her!”

“You can’t just tell my girlfriend she has a nice ass. It’s disrespectful!”

“Inapprope, bro,” called Bobby from the common area of, where he’d stretched out to watch TV. He could hear at least my side of this exchange.

“It’s inappropriate, Ollie,” Morgan admonished. But she didn’t seem angry with him, surprisingly. She still had some sort of bedside manner thing going on. “Can you say something nice that’s not about my body?”

Ollie considered it for a moment. The whole thing was kinda surreal, me standing there in the doorway waiting for his response. Of course, we were all pretty shithoused off the booze.

“Okay,” he finally said. “You have really pretty eyes.”

“Ollie!” she laughed. “My eyes are still part of my body, you know. But that’s very sweet, I’ll take it.”

And then she leaned over and kissed Ollie on the cheek.

I just stared, rather dumbfounded. Ollie blushed like mad as Morgan strode past me out of the room. “See Ollie, if you’re just nice to people, they’ll be nice to you back,” she said over her shoulder as she left.

—

We were cuddled up in my bed later that same night; Morgan sleeping over was an increasingly frequent treat.

“So, uh, you kissed Ollie,” I said.

“I didn’t kiss Ollie,” she retorted. “I gave him a kiss on the cheek. Like how I greet my parents? You wouldn’t say I ‘kissed my dad,’ would you? Such a horndog, Tyler.”

I immediately felt sheepish. I wasn’t bringing it up out of horniness! But why was I bringing it up? Possessiveness?

“I mean whatever, if you want to slobber on Ollie’s greasy cheeks so badly be my guest!” I dug into her sides where she was most ticklish, provoking the desired reaction.

“That’s the thing, though,” she said a few moments later when her laughter had subsided. “He does think that about himself, you know? That he’s physically unappealing. And then on top of that, he threw up in front of all of us.”

I thought for a moment about what she was telling me between the lines. “So you’re, like, kissing him even though he’s gross to make him feel better about it?”

She didn’t bother to correct my phrasing this time. “He’s a human being, Tyler. You can’t just boil people down to, like, gross versus not-gross. You know, before you came into his room, he was telling me..”

“Telling you what?”

“I dunno. I guess personal stuff. Maybe I shouldn’t just be telling you, even though my instinct is of course to tell you everything.”

I felt a little sting at her saying this, but I mastered it. “No, I get it. Like, you don’t tell me everything that you and Emily discuss either.” A pause. “So, he opened up to you?”

“I mean mostly he was just being a sarcastic ass like always, but kinda, yeah. That was the whole point of tonight, right? To like, make friends with him?”

“It was. It was.”

“So you’re not going to make weird jealous remarks and try to sexualize it if I give Ollie hugs and kisses on the cheek like I do with my family and my other platonic friendships?” Zing.

“No Morgan, what would ever make you think I’d do anything like that?” And I moved in to tickle her once again.

I attempted a transition from tickling into foreplay, but when I tried to slip my hand into her panties, Morgan stopped me short, her firm grip on my wrist signifying the finality of her decision.

—

When I woke up the next morning, the bed was moving with a barely perceptible, repetitive rhythm.

I looked over at Morgan; she was on her back, eyes closed, asleep by all appearances. But was she? Wasn’t there just a small bit of movement visible between her legs, coinciding with the bed’s gentle shaking, and perhaps indicating that her fingers played across her clit?

I shifted my angle to try for a better view. Morgan froze the instant I stirred.

“Baby, are you touching yourself?” I whispered.

Eyes still closed, she grinned the immediate, involuntary grin of the accurately accused.

My hands went to her tits. “Keep going Morgan. I’m watching you.”

Time stood still for a few indeterminate moments.

Then she started again. Very quietly, almost imperceptibly. Her lips parting, breath quickening. Breasts swelling and growing ever so slightly firmer as I squeezed and she played. This was a first: Morgan masturbating in front of me.

This went on for a bit, then she stopped abruptly. “I don’t think I can finish with you watching.”

I held back a sigh. Usually, the fact of me looking at her was like a powerful aphrodisiac. It seemed to apply to everything except actually having an orgasm.

Morgan said she could achieve climax by herself, but thus far it had eluded her during our own lovemaking.

“I woke up feeling really turned on,” she said. With the little sharp inhalation of breath that meant she was gearing herself up to do something requiring courage, she took my hand and slid it into her underwear.

She was an absolute mess. I couldn’t even tell what I was feeling, her normally familiar anatomy completely oozed over.

“I want you inside me,” she went on.

“I’ll cum, like, instantly,” I warned, marveling at the information my fingers relayed to my brain.

“I know,” she moaned. “I want it. Just put it in me and let yourself cum. I want to feel how much I excite you.”

CHAPTER 3 - MORGAN'S FORFEIT

Things with Ollie around the suite improved considerably after that night. He still was given to off-color remarks and a general lack of social awareness, but he was actually socializing with the rest of the guys around the pad for a change.

Way more pronounced of a change was the way he treated Morgan. He’d obviously taken the lesson of being nice in exchange for niceness returned to heart: our normally sullen suitemate now favored her with an eager “Hi, Morgan!” whenever she arrived in our midst. He had compliments for her aplenty; they were all about her physical appearance, like, with such rigorous consistency that I had to chuckle at it.

“That’s a really pretty dress, Morgan.”

“Cute haircut, Morgan.”

“Wow, Morgan, I can tell you don’t skip leg day!”

She was always sure to show some appreciation. Not always a kiss on the cheek, but a hug, a hand placed on the shoulder, an uttered exclamation at how sweet it was for him to have said. Ollie obviously lapped it all up. I was pretty sure this was the most he had ever interacted with a real life human female.

I was trying to avoid sounding like I was thinking about it too much, lest I prove Morgan’s accusations of jealousy correct. And I wasn’t jealous, really. I mean, how could anybody be jealous of Ollie of all people?

In retrospect it goes to show how much my self-conception had shifted. I saw myself and Morgan as being out of Ollie’s league to such a vast degree that it ameliorated any true jealousy I might feel over the (admittedly) minor and perfectly appropriate gestures of affection Morgan displayed towards him.

“I wonder if Ollie is ever going to figure out how to compliment somebody about something other than their looks,” I said as casually as I could manage.

“I know, right?” Morgan returned. “I figure it’s, like, baby steps. At least he’s learning how to talk to a girl at all, you know?”

It became somewhat of a theme. Ollie was a project of sorts in Morgan’s mind; we were helping him come out of his shell, learn the ropes of social grace. We used n general terms like “somebody” and “a girl” but we both knew she was that somebody, she was that girl.

We also genuinely became friends with Ollie, as was bound to occur. This had benefits and drawbacks.

OIlie was a pretty funny guy, and when he wasn’t acting sarcastic and sullen, he could actually be quite charming. And when he was being moody, we’d feel the instinctive concern that just naturally happens when a friend is feeling down, rather than simply treating it as an annoyance. And we’d have real conversations with him about his state of mind.

This is also where the drawbacks came in. In some ways, Ollie lived up to the conventions we associated with his type. He had a chip on his shoulder about women and about his perceived hierarchy in male/female relationships. I wasn’t sure if this was the same information he’d related to Morgan during their private conversation that first night, but it eventually came out that Ollie had never had a girlfriend, and that he was pretty sore about it.

I felt ashamed, but I’d shared Ollie’s views when I’d been in high school. Tremendous resentment over the fact that even though I was such a nice person, it was the stereotypically hot guys who seemed to have all the luck, particularly with the girls who had “friendzoned” me.

I also knew, though, that this whole notion was completely backwards. Nice guys did get the girls in the long run; Morgan and I were proof of this. So I had some investment in the notion Ollie could undergo a similar evolution as I had.

In retrospect, it might have been a bit patronizing for Morgan and me to regard Ollie as someone we had the right or duty to “fix,” but I wasn’t so self-aware at the time.

Meanwhile, it did promote a healthier dynamic in our household. In the spirit of gradually acclimatizing Ollie into our socio-political worldview, we tried to take his more offensive remarks in stride, and have productive discussions with him instead of just argue or dispute.

—

We had, certainly, our limits of what we could take in stride.

Morgan, Ollie and I had the suite and much of campus to ourselves for a weekend. It was a minor holiday and many students, whose parents lived in proximity to campus, had gone home. Those for whom a plane flight or long car ride might have been required opted to stay at school.

Most campus facilities were closed, the weather sucked, and we were somewhere between bored and actively miserable over it. There was just nothing to do. Well, Morgan and I could have been holed up in one of our rooms having sex, but Ollie seemed to be hanging around us in a way that was almost clingy and I we couldn’t figure out the angle to get rid of him. Plus, I suppose, it would have been pretty rude, considering we were all stuck in this dreary situation together.

“Let’s play Asshole,” Ollie suggested, not for the first time.

“There’s nobody to buy us booze,” I countered, also not for the first time.

“Ah, but I have a plan,” Ollie said. “We just go to the liquor store, aaaaaaaaand..” he waved his hands in a magician’s flourish “I’ll buy us a bottle.”

“How? You don’t have an ID.”

(This was a euphemism for a fake ID; e.g. one which falsely asserted the bearer was of drinking age.)

“So? Maybe they won’t check. I look like I’m over twenty-one.”

Ah, so this was Ollie’s brilliant plan. To simply not get ID’d at the point of purchase. “Man, we don’t have a car, it’s a long walk, it’s raining, and then there’s like a good chance you’ll get turned away...”

“Oh I see, you’d rather be a little bitch than go on an epic booze quest with me.”

Always with the gendered insults. Not that Morgan hadn’t cracked a grin at the remark in spite of herself.

“Fine. You win. Let’s go.”

Forty-five minutes later, a beaming Ollie emerged from the liquor store clutching two handles of whiskey, victorious.

We were soaking wet by the time we got back to campus. The card game was a bit more awkward with only three players, and the torrential rain outside didn’t help add any ambient cheer. However, the sheer force of booze eventually prevailed and we all got loopy and involved in our conversation.

We were sufficiently drunk that we had to nerf the game’s drinking rules lest we all overdo it. The game already provided a mechanism for this, as the President had discretion to customize forfeits. It morphed into some sort of truth or dare / “never have I ever” scenario.

It actually got pretty racy.

There was some interrogation of one another’s sexual history. Ollie was being quite forward. He asked if the two of us had been virgins before we got together. Neither of us had been. He questioned us about our body count. I’d had one previous sexual partner; Morgan had had two – she’d had a serious boyfriend in high school, and then a random party hookup freshman year of college similar to what I’d experienced.

It felt pretty strange finding this out about her at the same time as Ollie. The discussion of such personal details seemed to leave Morgan a bit abashed as well.

She tried turning the tides, asking Ollie about his sexual history. “You fucking know I don’t have any,” he scowled at her.

“Not even like, slow dancing at a high school dance?”

“Yeah right, like I went to any dances in high school.”

His questions got raunchier, less guarded. He asked what Morgan’s cup size was. He asked if the two of us had done anal. I was particularly shocked when he asked about the size of my penis.

“Tyler’s penis is beautiful,” Morgan had gushed in response to the last one.

“Not what I asked,” Ollie snorted.

“How big is your dick, asshole?” I countered.

“Bigger than yours, bro.”

“Dare you to whip it out so we can compare, bro.”

“Woah, woah, calm down dude! I know you want to see my dick real bad, but get your mind out of the gutter.”

Morgan, for her part, was doubled over with laughter at our ridiculous machismo.

The night went on in this vein, the conversation becoming increasingly ribald until Ollie suddenly crossed the line following his victory in the latest round of cards.

“As President,” he slurred, “I decree that Morgan’s forfeit is to show her tits!”

I slumped in my chair, burying my face in my hands. “God dammit, Ollie,” I moaned. Morgan was reacting in much the same manner. Of course he had to go and say something completely inappropriate and ruin a fun night.

“What?! It’s a dare. We’ve been doing truths and dares all night.”

“Ollie, why do you always have to act like such a porn-brained incel about everything?!” Morgan retorted with a ferocity that took me aback. “‘Oh, we’re doing dares so that means the girl has to flash her tits’ … can’t you just treat me like a person?”

Ollie was livid, storming from the table. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought we were having fun,” he spat. “You’re such a bitch, Morgan!” And he slammed his door behind him.

We sat in stunned silence.

“Fuck,” Morgan said.

“Morgan, I’m so sorry. I’ll go talk-”

“No. It was completely my fault. I need to go apologize to him.”

Woah. Morgan wanted to apologize to Ollie?? “Morgan, he called you a bitch..”

She sighed. “I was being a bitch. He’s right, we were all saying inappropriate things. I was the one who started in with the name-calling.”

I shook my head. “Telling you to show your boobs was out of line. Even in the context of whatever else was said tonight.”

She shrugged. “Well, it’s Ollie. He’s still getting the hang of all this. And you did tell him to show us his dick.”

I had obviously not actually wanted Ollie to pull his dick out, but I could see her point. It made me feel less certain of the righteousness of our indignation at his remark.

She sighed. “I’ll take care of it.”

They were in his room talking for a while. I confess, I might have started to feel the slight prickle of jealousy. After all, we were all quite drunk, inhibitions lowered, and somehow my girlfriend was in this kids room apologizing to him for getting angry at having been asked to show him her tits!

Just as I was wondering if I should get up and check on them, and what pretext I should use for having done so, Ollie’s door opened and Morgan slipped out. “Seriously,” she was saying, “that’s really not how I think of you. How any of us do.”

“Whatever. I get it. I’m sorry I called you a bitch, too.”

“I know.”

It kind of rankled me how flippantly he referred to the ‘bitch’ remark, but it didn’t seem to bother Morgan.

Something was, in fact, going on in Morgan’s mind. She’d paused in his doorway, about to close it, some indecisiveness causing her to hesitate. She glanced over at me and broke out into a grin.

“Hey Ollie?” she said. “All that said… what do you think about this?” And then, in a blink of an eye, she whipped up her shirt to her neck, her braless bare tits bouncing mesmerizingly into view in the well-lit hallway.

It only lasted a tiny instant. But it was an instant in which time refused to advance.

“...What the fuck?!” exclaimed Ollie? It was already over, Morgan cackling with glee as she fled from his sight, pulling her clothes back into place, his door swinging shut behind her.

She regarded me with a look of triumph.

“What was that?!” I exclaimed. “You just flashed Ollie!”

“I know!! Can you believe it! You should have seen his face Tyler.” She was still giggling to herself about it.

“But that’s! He’s! I’m!” I couldn’t get the words out.

“I got him good,” Morgan went on, enormously pleased with herself.

She gave me the breakdown of how their conversation had gone. As Morgan had suspected, being called an “incel” had cut Ollie deep, and she’d spent some time apologizing for the wound she’d inflicted. She had overreacted, she told him; the whole point of the game was to make racy suggestions, and while it was true that his had been beyond her comfort level, all that meant was that he had won the round; welching on a forfeit was perfectly within the rules.

“I guess in the end he didn’t win the round, though.”

“Exactly. In the end, I won. Also, can you believe I had the guts to do that? Remember how shy I was showing you my boobs the first time? And you’re my boyfriend!”

I didn’t really know how to respond, other than to reach up and start fondling her breasts, since we were talking about them.

Morgan groaned appreciatively. “Let’s go to your room and have sex.”

—

The thing was, Morgan flashing Ollie had definitely made me jealous.

I didn’t feel like I had much basis to complain. What was I going to do, police Morgan about her body? I’d been encouraging her to open up since we met; with me in bed, obviously, but also in terms of emphasizing how she should have the confidence to dress in more revealing clothes and things of that nature. I mean, who doesn’t want to see the girl they love showing a little skin?

Our school was a very sexually liberal environment in general. Women wore skimpy clothes around the mixed-gender dorms and at costume-themed parties, and even got naked for their fellow students’s art projects with regularity. Morgan was one of the more reserved and conservative women on campus when it came to this sort of thing, so it would have been totally out of line for me to about-face and start giving her grief for an innocent little prank the moment she started acting more confident about her body.

And I liked that this was the case, culturally. I loved being in an environment where women could show their bodies and be sexually liberated without fear of slut-shaming.

Yet… Morgan had showed Ollie her breasts. The breasts Morgan had so intimately revealed to me just a few months back, overcoming her hesitancy and, in doing so, signifying the special, romantic connection we had.

I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t the jealous type, I wasn’t a prude about my girlfriend’s boobs, and convince myself I felt casually about the whole thing, that it was no big deal. But the truth was my heart plopped into my stomach whenever I recalled the event itself.

Which I did, frequently. The thought was like a wound I couldn’t stop picking at.

Against my better judgment, I brought this all up with Morgan.

“I keep thinking about how you flashed Ollie,” I said.

“Really? That’s funny, I keep thinking about it too.”

This was unexpected; I’d been bracing for some sort of reprimand over not being able to let the event go. Plop, went my heart.

“...Well?” she prompted.

“No no, you go first!” I grinned at her, doing my best to perform a relaxed attitude quite at odds with the butterfly hurricane raging in my belly.

“Well, it’s like, I know that it wasn’t actually a big deal. I mean, girls flash their boobs all the time. And it was, like, a prank. Not anything sexual or anything.” She was speaking quickly, the words pouring out of her. “But even so, something about it just seems so.. I dunno, naughty? Bad? Like even though I know I didn’t do anything wrong, some part of me can’t help thinking of it as like a bad girl thing to do.”

This sounded disconcertingly similar to the sort of stuff Morgan and I would say to each other in bed, talking dirty. Admittedly, the frequency and intensity of those conversations had subsided somewhat; as Morgan became more accustomed to me seeing her naked, it became harder to play up the idea that her nudity in my presence was anything taboo.

“It wasn’t a bad girl thing to do,” I found myself reassuring her. “Like you said, it was just a prank.”

“Oh, I know. But, like! It’s kinda fun to think of it that way anyway??”

I gulped. “Kinda like how when we’re playing together, and we talk about how you’re a ‘bad girl’ for showing me your pussy and stuff, even though we both know it doesn’t really make you bad?”

“Kinda!”

“But, I thought that stuff was exciting to you because it was with me. Like, with your boyfriend.”

She squeezed my hand reassuringly and drew herself in closer to me as we walked together. “You are what makes it exciting. You think I couldn’t see the look in your eyes when I did it? You were appalled. You looked like you wanted to devour me alive.”

Plop. What the fuck was she saying?

“Ollie’s not even a factor here, basically,” she continued. “But my hot-as-fuck boyfriend, getting all jealous and possessive over me being a bad girl? That’s what’s sexy.”

“I’m not jealous,” I protested.

“Yeah? Cool, then you’ll have no problem if I start showing him my boobs regularly then? Or I could really blow his mind and accidentally drop my towel on my way from the shower, let him see me completely naked.. That wouldn’t make you jealous either, right?”

I know she was just trying to get a rise out of me, but damn if she wasn’t doing a number on my head. My palms immediately grew sweaty. “Y-you’re not really going to..” I choked.

She grinned impishly at me. “Don’t you want to go home with your bad girlfriend and punish her for being so naughty?”

—

Afterwards, we picked up our conversation where it had left off.

“So why did you bring up the thing with Ollie?” she asked.

I shrugged, feeling open and honest in our post-coital bliss. “Jealous,” I admitted.

She was tracing her fingers on my chest. “You don’t need to be, you know.” It was hard to argue in that moment; a moment in which it felt like we were each other’s, completely.

“I know.”

“Is it really bad? Is it something you’re preoccupied with?”

“Nah. I guess a little. Maybe not anymore, now that we’ve talked about it.”

The conversation lapsed for a bit while we cuddled.

“Do you mind if I make you a little jealous?”

“...What do you mean?”

“Well,” she squeaked shyly, “like I said it’s a little exciting, seeing that look in your eyes.”

“What look?”


“The look that says you can’t believe the things I’m telling you, that I’m blowing your mind.”

“Oh. That.”

“So, I can?”

“Can what Morgan?” The words came out more forcefully than I’d intended. “What are you suggesting exactly?”

“I dunno,” she said, wounded, like I’d made her feel stupid. “Do things to make you jealous.”

“...”

“...”

“... Such as?”

“I dunno tease Ollie sometimes or something,” she murmured rapidly, clearly embarrassed by the suggestion and forcing out the words before her scruples got the better of her.

“So you DID mean all that stuff! Dropping your towel and all that.” My tone continued to get away from me, becoming accusatory.

She shrank back. “But you said it wasn’t really bad,” she protested. “I’m not really a ‘bad girl’ just because, like, I have a body. It’s just, like, a game that we..”

I couldn’t keep up my stern posture, not when she was on the defensive. I reassured and comforted her. “You’re right baby, you’re right. You don’t have anything to feel bad about. You’re just trying to have fun and be kinky with your boyfriend.”

“...Yeah?”

“Yeah. My sexy, kinky fucking girlfriend,” I said, as we began round two of our lovemaking. But internally, my mind was reeling.

CHAPTER 4 - TEASING OLLIE

Our sex life had shifted from exploratory to more well-defined and settled. What could have been written off as initial fumbling was now solidifying into established fact.

Looking back, we had a pretty strange dynamic.

After a few shy and hesitant attempts at oral, Morgan pretty much stopped taking any initiative that resulted with my dick in her mouth. I didn’t really have a problem with this because I drastically preferred going down on her. Receiving oral sex from Morgan caused me to retreat into a self-conscious mental state. It was something like stage fright: suddenly every strand of her hair that tickled my pelvis was an urgent reminder to hurry up and express the proper enjoyment to Morgan for what she was doing, so that she could finish and we could move on to the next thing.

During these experiences, before we dropped them from our sexual repetoire, I’d moan and tell her how good her mouth felt on my dick. But, we could both tell these were premeditated comments rather than utterances brought about by the heat of the moment. By contrast, when I had my face buried in Morgan’s vagina, I was apt to lose control completely and prematurely ejaculate while cursing / praising her body and its lewdness.

Morgan really had tried to pamper me with the oral sex. She’d made an effort to play it up the same way I had, complimenting my dick’s appearance and taste and scent. I was self conscious about both, of course. I put effort into making sure I was always presentable for her, keeping my pubes closely trimmed and my penis clean and fresh. And she seemed to appreciate it. But, it was obvious that she wasn’t getting as excited over it in the same primal fashion as I. After all, I was having hands-free orgasms just from tasting her cunt.

So I was going down on Morgan more and more, and cumming while doing so. She stopped going down on me completely and she had still not had an orgasm in my presence.

Morgan insisted that her failure to bust was not that big of a deal. She could have orgasms via masturbation, but only in total privacy and only by the most subtle manipulations of her clit. She tried to teach me, but it was obvious from her patient smile that I wasn’t quite getting the spot and rhythm correct. “It’s really hard even for me to do it,” she assured me.

She explained that the difference between a high state of arousal and actual orgasm were not too pronounced for her, and she was more than satisfied with the degree of excitement she experienced during our lovemaking.

—-

I finally got to see what she meant a few weeks after our conversation about teasing Ollie.

Nothing immediately came of the conversation. In fact, in the aftermath of being flashed by Morgan, Ollie retreated into his more incel-like behaviors. It wasn’t that he resumed making inappropriate comments around Morgan; in fact, he’d begun making himself rather scarce in her presence. When she wasn’t around, he’d lay it on thick, voicing his disgust about the female “options” available on campus and deeming our peers to be “vapid sluts”. A true sour grapes mentality.

I couldn’t figure out the guy. A kiss on the cheek brings him out of his shell, a glimpse of a woman’s chest sends him back into it.

The weather stayed gloomy; our schoolwork intensified and became daunting.

Morgan’s roommate and close friend, Emily, had gotten serious with a guy named Kevin. Kevin was now constantly in Morgan and Emily’s room, which meant Morgan was more frequently at the suite.

“It’s a lot,” she confessed, a bit uneasy over betraying her sisterly bond with Emily and complaining about her to me. “He, like, comes back from the shower in his towel and it’s just expected that I’ll step out of my room and give him privacy to get dressed. And, like, she is just totally cool with this new status quo.”

“It’s her first serious boyfriend. She’s too excited to think about boundaries,” I offered. “Means I get more of you to myself!”

Indeed, Morgan was sleeping over more often and showering at the suite instead of in her own dorm building’s communal shower. Her increased presence made Ollie’s behavior pronounced and undeniable; the dude was in some sort of cold war with my girlfriend. He simply would not be caught in the same room with her. When subtlety failed to provoke a reaction, he began ramping it up, all but throwing up his hands and storming out of the common area whenever she’d enter it.

That was about how things stood when one day I returned from an evening class to find Ollie relaxing in the common area. “Hey man,” he said by way of salutation.

A bit taken aback by the uncharacteristic warmth, I exchanged greetings with him and made my way to my room, wondering why Morgan hadn’t been returning my texts. Surprisingly, she was there in my bed, Ollie’s rare presence in the common area normally a reliable indicator she wasn’t around. But there she was, fresh out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her hair, the sheets pulled up to her shoulders. Which were bare, promising nudity.

“Finally,” she said. “Will you please get in bed with me so we can play?”

My mouth immediately went dry; she was downright thirsty for me in a way she hadn’t been in some time.

“I want to show you something,” she said with urgency once I’d joined her, guiding my hand between her legs to where she was already soaked.

A few minutes later, I’d already cum myself, and was thrusting my semi-hard dick into warmth, trying my best to extend the encounter for her. It was, at this point, the sort of sex where the energy was winding down instead of building to another climax for me, and eventually I slid off her and to her side, relodging the head of my dick lodged inside her while I stroked her tummy and boobs.

With an impish glance, Morgan reached down between her legs. The second time she played with herself in my presence, but this time we were above the sheets and I could see everything.

“So,” she said. “I finally got to tease Ollie again.”

My heart stopped beating for a moment; or maybe time itself had slowed. “Oh yeah?” some calmer and more collected person said with my voice. “Did.. something happen??”

“Uh, yeah!”

Thump, thump went my heart.

She continued, “So, you know how he’s been acting like all...”

“Yep. The Cold War.”

“Well so I came over, and I knew you wouldn’t be home but I needed to take a shower and, you know. Emily and Kevin,” with a roll of the eyes.

“Yeah.”

“So I knock and finally Ollie answers, and of course he just mutters at me and flees into his room. So I grab my stuff from your room and go to take a shower. And like, not two minutes later Ollie starts pounding on the shower door.”

“What the fuck?”

“I know! So I was like, can I help you? And then he opens the door!”

“Oh, wow. You didn’t have it locked?”

“I mean, I guess not. I don’t really pay attention to that because it’s so obvious when somebody is using the bathroom. Light’s on, shower’s running... Nobody’s ever so much as tried the handle before while I was in there.”

“So what did he do?? Did he try to come in and get a peek, or..”

Morgan was still rubbing herself while we conversed, and I swear she ground against me a little harder at the suggestion. As well, my dick betrayed me, swelling at the thought.

“No, he just cracked the door and started whining at me from the hall.”

“About..?”

Dropping her voice to do her hilarious Ollie impression: “‘Morgan you’re always here showering and stuff, when are you going to be done, I have to pee.’ I told him I just got in here and to wait! But then it occurred to me that this was finally an opportunity to mess with him, you know? So then I said ‘....Or, you could just go pee. Unless you’re too shy.’”

“You told him he could pee while you were showering??”

“I didn’t think he actually would! And I mean it’s not like he could see anything either way.”

The shower curtain was, indeed, completely opaque; not even a silhouette would have been visible. Nonetheless, Morgan had invited Ollie into the suite’s tiny bathroom with her, where she’d be stark naked mere feet from him. While he pulled out his gross incel penis and urinated. Anxiety coursed through my veins. My dick throbbed back to life in spite of itself, which Morgan noted and ground against appreciatively.

“But he did come in,” I prompted.

“No! He was way too much of a coward.” Relief and, strangely, disappointment at this. “I don’t know if he even did have to pee or if he just wanted to harass me.”

“So what did he do?”

“He just stood there at the doorway, not saying anything. I was like, come in and pee or close the door so the cold air stops getting in.”

“And..?”


“You’re not going to fucking believe the next thing he said.”

“???”


“He goes, ‘So I guess Tyler is mad at you since you flash other guys.’”

“... You’re joking.”

“I’m completely serious. Like, he semi-barges into the bathroom while I’m showering, and then he starts launching into all this!”

I was astonished. “How did you react?!”

“I mean, you know how it is with Ollie and his whole mentality. I had to resist taking the bait and arguing about it, which can quickly lead to me saying things I’ll regret. Like, ‘no, my wonderful boyfriend doesn’t view my breasts as his property because he’s not an incel like you.’”

“Yeah,” I considered her words. “Well, in all fairness I did get kinda jealous when you flashed him, though..”

“Mmm!” she moaned. “Yeah but it’s just, like,a knee jerk emotional response. And we both talked about it and we’re being mature adults about how it’s a natural emotion to feel, but it’s not based on anything real right?”

“...”

“Like, even if I was the sort of girl who is open with her body, which I don’t really think one isolated event proves that I am necessarily but whatever, that wouldn’t actually be something that you should be mad at, right?”

“... No, of course not.”

“And like, maybe if Ollie has more interactions with girls that are positive for him, he’ll stop being, well, the way he is. And plus, I mean, we even talked about how it could maybe be exciting, for us? Like… sexually?”

“I… yeah.”

“Good. Because you might be a little jealous when you hear what all happened.”

Plop.

“Okay… keep talking?!” I said.

“See? You’re getting really hard again,” Morgan pointed out accurately. “So anyway, I decided to tease him instead. I said, why would Tyler be mad that you saw my boobs for literally half a second? He gets to see them and touch them and do other things with them, and you probably can’t even remember what they look like.”

“You didn’t fucking say that.”

“I swear to god I did. And he immediately was like, ‘Shut up Morgan!’ so I knew I struck a nerve. I felt powerful. So I was all, ‘I think you’re the one who’s mad. You know that every day Tyler gets to play with the nicest boobs you’ve ever seen, and all you got was that one tiny glimpse.’”

“Oh my god.”

“And he, like, lost his shit Tyler.”

“What… what happened?!”

“He just started unloading all this stuff on me. He said YES he was mad, that it was fucking driving him nuts. That they weren’t just the nicest boobs he’d ever seen, they were the only boobs he’d ever seen. How it’s so unfair that other guys get to have girlfriends and all he gets is to be tortured with a glimpse of what he’ll never have. On and on. He was really wallowing in it.”

“And? How did you respond??”

“I was being a bitch Tyler. I don’t know what it was but I was just, like, high on my power over him. I straight up laughed while he was telling me all this.”

“Holy shit, Morgan.”

“Yeah, it was crazy. Like, I told him I was glad he felt this way, because his behavior ever since I flashed him proved that he wasn’t worthy of getting to see my boobs after all.”

“...”

“I was like, ‘nothing you’ve done since then has made me even slightly inclined to let you see them again.’ And, fuck! Tyler! He started begging me to tell him what he could do to change my mind!”

“This is fucking crazy.”

“It was so crazy. I was, like, possessed. I started dictating terms.”

“Morgan. Wow. Fuck...” I was properly, openly fucking her now, hanging on her every word.

“I told him, you know, the usual stuff. To stop hiding in his room whenever I’m around, to try and make an effort to be more social, to stop making comments that show how he thinks of women as objects. He, like, vehemently agreed to everything I said. He was practically blubbering.”

“What did you… what..?”

“I told him good and that I would think about it, and to please close the fucking door already. But he was, like, totally gone at this point. Just begging me. ‘Please let me see them again Morgan, please, I swear I’ll do all that stuff.’ It was honestly so fucking undignified but, like, wow. So I just said ‘ugh, fine’ with as much contempt and disgust as I could and ..”

“...”

“.. and I opened the shower curtain!”

“You…?!”

“Like, I was completely naked in front of him. He was only like two feet away from me in the doorway. He could see everything, my tits, my .. pussy...”

“How did he… What did he..”

“He was flabbergasted. He just gawked at me for like two or three seconds, and then muttered ‘thanks’ and literally, like, tried to flee in terror. And Tyler, I stopped him. I fucking told him to wait.”

“What?!”

“I said, you better not expect this to happen again any time soon, so make sure you get a good enough look so you can remember this time!”

“Morgan!”

“Yeah, Tyler. Fuck!”

“Did he… how were you, like, positioned??”

“Mmmph!” she moaned appreciatively at my desire for this detail, her fingers moving more urgently across her clit. “I wasn’t even, like, posing sexy or anything. Fuck! I should have been! I just had my hands on my hips all matter-of-factly. Ugh I probably looked so silly, just standing there showing him my pussy!”

And that’s when it happened. Her vagina clamped down hard on my penis, her whole body seizing and remaining still for what seemed a small eternity, until finally she opened her eyes again with a powerful exhale.

“I just came,” she announced proudly, her eyes shining.

—

Morgan lied there contentedly, basking in the afterglow of her first orgasm in my presence.

It didn’t seem like more details were forthcoming. I tried to talk myself out of asking, but I could help it. “Can you…” I asked timidly, “Can you keep talking about what happened?”

“Mmm, it’s fucking hot that you want me to.” There was a pause and a look of uncertainty that flitted across her face, and for a moment I braced myself for what else she had in store to confess to me.

“But there’s nothing more to tell,” she murmured sweetly at last. “The sight of your nude girlfriend was more than he could handle, like, he just stared for a few seconds and then made a beeline for his room.”

“You know what he did once he got there…”

“You think he fapped to me?” Morgan teased, using a term she’d ridiculed me over when I’d first introduced her to it.

“Guaranteed.”

“Gross, Tyler!” she said, but she writhed against me excitedly.

“But he was hanging out in the living room when I got home. Even was nice to me.”

“Well, duh. He’ll do anything if it means he gets to see me naked again.”

“So now it’s not just your boobs. He’s gonna get to see you naked from now on...”

My statement hung in the air between us.

“Would that be okay?” she finally uttered, hoarse with excitement. “I’d really like that.”

I wasn’t courageous enough to vocalize the permission she sought. Or to push back against it, if that's indeed what I wanted to do – I wasn’t sure. My only response was to squeeze her hand reassuringly as I cuddled her from behind. She was in such a state, her body practically quivered in my arms.

CHAPTER 5 - KISSING LESSONS (part 1)

I felt the undercurrent of panic threaten to tug at me, unsure of what exactly we had agreed to the previous night.

To get a grip on my emotions, I tried to think through the situation rationally. Morgan was practically living in a suite and sharing a bathroom with four college-aged men; it was inevitable that somebody was eventually going to catch a glimpse of her in a state of undress. Regardless of whatever psychological hijinks surrounded the event, nothing too wildly indecent or inappropriate had technically occurred.

On the other hand, I couldn’t deny that the three of us were involved in some sort of bizarre and kink-oriented scenario. Despite whatever excuses about “fixing” Ollie we concocted, there was legitimate sexual tension between Morgan, myself, and our physically and socially unappealing incel housemate. Morgan had shared her first orgasm with me while relating an encounter in which she’d intentionally displayed her nude body to Ollie. Displayed it and taunted him with it.

So it was with a degree of trepidation that I faced the next day. Bracing myself for what interacting with Ollie would be like, wondering what excuses Morgan would contrive to make good on her promise to allow him to ogle her further.

At first, I was relieved when my fears turned out to be purely theoretical. It wasn’t like Morgan just started walking around the suite naked, or barging into Ollie’s room to undress for him. Instead, things just went back to normal. Or whatever “normal” meant in the always-weird social atmosphere of the suite.

Despite whatever discussion he’d had with Morgan about being more social in exchange for certain incentives, Ollie kept to his room, perhaps even moreso than usual. The only indication that the nude interaction had taken place at all was the fact that when we did encounter Ollie, he was a lot more civil towards us. The “cold war” between him and Morgan had ostensibly ended.

As Morgan flashing Ollie and the associated anxiety and excitement receded in memory over the coming days, some part of me yearned for at least part of those feelings to return.

I finally brought it up with Morgan while we were walking across campus together. It should be talked about, I told myself; it’s what a mature couple would do.

“Can we, uh, discuss the whole thing with you flashing Ollie?”

“You wanna talk about it now?” She grinned devilishly. “You don’t want to, like, get in bed together and then talk about it?”

“Oh, I didn’t exactly mean.. Why, did something happen?” The question just came out as suddenly as it occurred to me to ask it.

“No, nothing else happened since the shower incident. Why, do you want something to have happened?”

Plop, went my heart. “N-no! I don’t want you, you know, doing things behind my back!”

“That’s not what I meant!” she protested. “Sorry. You just seemed, like, I dunno.”

“Like what?”

She shrugged. “Like, excited that maybe something might have happened.”

I was pretty sure the look she’d seen was more along the lines of panic than eagerness, but I didn’t want to admit to being so neurotic and jealous over all this. I was supposed to be supporting Morgan as we discovered each other and ourselves sexually. We had discussed the fact that she had somewhat of an exhibitionist streak to her and it would be totally unfair for me to about-face and shame her over it so suddenly.

“I didn’t mean to put it so accusingly,” I said, in damage control mode. “I just meant, like, if something had happened, I hope you would feel comfortable telling me, is all.” I dropped my voice. “I love that you’re my kinky girlfriend.”

She beamed at this and squeezed my hand.

A few moments later, she said with a pout, “But no, nothing’s happened!” Her open frustration surprised me and immediately increased my already quickened pulse.

“Yeah, I don’t see what opportunity you’ve had to tease him,” I said, feeling brave to have uttered the words aloud. “He’s still hiding in his room all the time.”

“Oh, he’s asked me about it a bunch of times already,” she said.

He had? When?? What had he said?! A million questions assaulted my brain.

“He… He…” I stammered.

“Oh my god, Tyler, you should see your face right now! Of course he’s bringing it up. He wants to see me naked again so badly.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I mean, he wasn’t super direct about it or anything. But every time I’ve been in the common area and you’ve, like, gone to the bathroom or something, he suddenly appears out of thin air and just starts saying, you know..”

“Saying what??” I was emphatically failing to maintain my cool.

“Just how I’m right about how he needs to be more social, how he hopes I notice that he’s been putting in an effort, all that. You know, he wants to make sure he gets the points he thinks he’s earned!”

“And your response to this is?”

“I very nicely and politely respond that yes, I have noticed and I hope he keeps it up!” she chirped happily.

A somewhat pregnant silence hung between us.

“Well, are you going to ask?” she prompted.

“Ask what??”

“You obviously want to know when I’m going to flash him again.”

“...”

“You’re, like, dying for me to show Ollie my tits again!”

“Morgan!” I looked around frantically, but nobody was around to overhear.

“Oh come on Tyler, you have to give me something here. I feel like I’m doing this all on my own and you’re not, like, communicating about what you want and if we’re on the same page.”

“...”

“...”

“Fuck. Okay, yes. I want you to flash him,” I whispered to her, practically forcing the words out.

“Flash whom?”

“Ollie.”

“What about Ollie?”

“I want you to flash Ollie again, Morgan. God dammit! I want him to see your tits and pussy again. Please do it. When are you going to do it??”

Her eyes blazed. “See, we really shouldn’t have started this conversation in public. You need to take me to bed now.”

—-----

So, it turns out Morgan could reliably orgasm while we discussed the idea of Ollie seeing her naked.

Her orgasms were sweet little treasures to me, moments where Morgan went into a state of pure and total bliss. Her body would seize up everywhere, eyes either shut tight or locked open in apparent disbelief. Several seconds of total silence before she’d abruptly and forcefully inhale, the release achieved.

Starting from when I brought it up on our walk through campus, this would happen while we were having sex, and talking about Ollie. How he had seen her completely naked. How he was going to see her naked again in the future. How we both wanted it to happen. The fact that we were the sort of people who did this sort of thing and got off to the thought of it.

“We’re kinky, Tyler!” Morgan beamed.

When pressed on the issue, Morgan was non-committal on the exact trajectory of this thing with Ollie, and couldn’t say exactly when another chance to be naked in front of him might occur. Or whether it even necessarily would ever occur. Despite our recent bedroom obsession with her exhibitionism, Morgan was still Morgan: a shy and reserved and largely innocent young woman. That these two instances of her flaunting her body for Ollie had even transpired in the first place represented a wild departure from what either Morgan or I expected from her, and that was half of what made it so tantalizing to contemplate.

“Plus,” she pointed out, “maybe he’ll actually succeed at the whole coming-out-of-his-shell thing and get a girlfriend. Then I won’t be able to flash him anymore.”


I’m not proud to say we both giggled at the notion of Ollie having a girlfriend, but that’s how it was. Latent cruelty leftover from the social tendencies of high school, I suppose. In our defense, Ollie was aggressively, well, the type of person he was.

Either way, normal relationship rules would presumably cause any theoretical girlfriend of Ollie’s to look askance at casual nudity between him and Morgan. But it went without saying by now that these weren’t the rules that applied to Morgan and I.

—

“I guess I do find it kind of shady that he waits until I’m not around to bring stuff up with you,” I mentioned during a rare moment of non-sexual lucidity.

“How so?”


“Well, it’s like he’s trying to get away with something behind my back.”

“I mean, he totally is. You know Ollie, he’s shy and socially awkward. It probably takes everything he’s got to approach me and talk to me about it at all. Let alone in front of my boyfriend!”

“Yeah, I get it. But also I feel like Ollie was genuinely hanging out with us more before this all started. Now it’s like he’s avoiding me.”

Morgan agreed that this was rather contrary to the whole “project” of guiding Ollie towards becoming a socially acceptable individual.

“I know how to handle it,” she told me, tapping at her phone. “No more boobs for Ollie until he makes more of an effort to hang out with us both.”

My phone vibrated a couple moments later. Morgan had sent out a group message to Ollie and myself.

M: hey Ollie, just wanted to lyk that i appreciate how civil you’ve been towards Tyler and me. i rate it 6 out of 10.

“Holy shit, Morgan,” I said to her. The “...” appeared immediately as Ollie began typing his reply.

O: why only 6 out of 10 wtf?
O: oh and hey Morgan it’s nice to hear from you
M: well the three of us used to hang out a bunch
M: why don’t u invite me n Tyler to do something one of these days

Ollie typed away at his reply for a while; when it came, it was a fully formed and rather well thought-out invitation for the three of us to hang out that weekend. The weather was forecasted to be unseasonably warm, and he suggested we take advantage of it and have a night of outdoor drinking around a fire. There was a known firepit that could be reached by hiking a short distance through the woods that surrounded our campus, and his suggestion was for us to take advantage of it.

“Damn,” I said. “That actually sounds like a great idea.”

—-----

It was a little strange to not invite Bobby and Andrew along with us, but since Ollie was providing the booze it was his prerogative to extend the invitation, and he didn’t.

For someone who was rarely seen outside of his room, Ollie was apparently somewhat of an outdoorsman. He came well prepared for our little hike: lanterns, a few blankets, even some bug spray that went unused since there weren’t any bugs in evidence.

We passed around a flask as we made the brief hike to the spot, the old rapport between Ollie and I quickly re-establishing itself as we caught a buzz. He really could be a fun conversation partner when he wasn’t being an antisocial weirdo, and it made me wonder why he didn’t take the initiative more often.

Morgan walked up ahead of us. Her ass looked more than slightly delicious in her leggings and I figured Ollie was probably stealing glances at it; this thought, along with the booze, prompted a warmth to spread through my belly. Lurking in the back of my mind was the fact that the three of us would be alone together, inhibitions lowered.

The fire spot was unclaimed. The sun had set by this point and we used lanterns to gather up some of the abundant wood and kindling from the surrounding area. Morgan spread the blankets across the benches of the spot’s picnic table while Ollie and I debated over the optimal arrangement of wood. Soon the fire was roaring and we were officially drunk and having a great time.

“I even brought cards,” Ollie boasted.

“We’re not playing Asshole,” Morgan immediately put in. “I need to not be too hungover tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I told you guys drinking games are stupid anyway,” Ollie said. “Actually I thought we could play a real game tonight. Texas hold’em!”

I snorted. “I see where this is going.”

He produced a box from his pack that contained an array of poker chips. “Get your mind out of the gutter, you degenerate,” he said. “I know how badly you want to play strip poker so you can see my dick, but we’re playing for money.” Embarrassment pulsed through me for a moment, but the booze allowed me to master it.

We agreed to some low-stakes gambling: twenty chips apiece, each representing a dollar. Nobody had cash on them, but Ollie was quite keen on playing with “real money” so we agreed to settle up after the fact.

It immediately and increasingly became apparent that Ollie was a shrewd poker player, and that Morgan and I were comparatively clueless. “I thought this was, like, a game of chance,” I whined as he relieved me of my last chips, several hands into the game.

“Whoever told you that misled you, my friend,” Ollie intoned. He was having the time of his life, pleased as punch to be in his element and holding court.

“So I guess I’m out of the game now.”

“Nonsense!” He thundered. “We can just start doing forfeits.”

“Forfeits,” I said ruefully. “Knew it was coming.” I felt the lurch of anticipation in my gut. Was Morgan finally going to flash Ollie? We had been fantasizing relentlessly about something happening again, but now as the real possibility presented itself I was losing my nerve.

“We have to set some ground rules,” Morgan protested as my pulse quickened. She sounded as panicked as I felt. “Otherwise you guys will just try and get me to take off my clothes!”

“Clothes stay on,” I blurted out, immediately regretting doing so. I must have sounded like I was panicking or something. Plus, there was the part of me that wanted her clothes to come off.

“Yeah yeah, don’t worry,” Ollie said with an ostentatious eye roll. “I know better after last time.”

I felt both relief and disappointment as the game proceeded, with Ollie continuing to dominate and win money from Morgan and forfeits from myself. The forfeits came in the form of embarrassing truth-or-dare questions or IOUs. After losing a particularly egregious hand, for example, I was on the hook for doing Ollie’s laundry, redeemable one time only.

He also, just like last time, displayed a keen interest in Morgan and my sex life. He asked what our record was for the most times we’d had sex in a day; Morgan said she had no idea, but I claimed it was six or seven – it was probably really more like three – and Ollie snorted in response.

He asked if Morgan had climaxes when we had sex; I proudly boasted that she did (now that it was true!) while Morgan sat quietly grinning ear to ear.

He asked, rather pointedly, if I got jealous of other guys seeing Morgan’s body. I felt my face burning and saw from Morgan’s blush that she was reacting much the same way.

After a pregnant pause, I shrugged. “I guess a little,” I said carefully, “But ultimately it’s her choice to do what she wants with her body. And, like, I try to keep in mind that jealousy is a stupid reaction to have.”

“I guess, dude,” said Ollie. “I think I would be possessive as fuck if I had a girlfriend like Morgan.”

“Awww!” cried Morgan. “You’re both so sweet.”

The game continued, but the direct reference to Morgan’s flashing had my mind racing. By the way he’d asked it, did Ollie just assume Morgan was showing guys her boobs left and right? If so, should I correct him on this point? But then he’d know he was the only guy who was … entitled to this new side of Morgan. And was the idea that I had to defend Morgan’s honor or something? That would imply there would be something wrong if Morgan was the type to to be more open with her body, which was certainly not an attitude I was going to put forth in front of Ollie with his incel attitudes.

Though admittedly, yeah, the thought of Morgan flashing more guys than just Ollie? Gaining a reputation for being a girl who was likely to get her tits out at parties? It did make me feel jealous and possessive and, of course, desperately excited over the supposed naughtiness of it.

Somehow my reverie allowed me to blunder into the rare win, and the hand resolved with me restoring some chips into my possession.. While also depriving Morgan of the remainder of her funds.

So it was not yet a definitive victory – we all assumed Ollie would eventually clean Morgan and I out of our chips completely, thus ending the game – but, instead, occasion for Morgan to perform some sort of forfeit in place of her wager, as I’d been doing in the previous rounds.

My throat was dry with anticipation.

“I have an idea of what the forfeit should be,” Ollie said, his every word causing the suspense to build in my heart. “But I don’t want you guys to get mad again.”

“You want to see my boobs again,” Morgan chirped. She sounded downright eager, though I tried to tell myself it could have also been interpreted as teasing or mocking.

“Well I mean, yeah, but we already agreed about that,” he said.

“Just spit it out, Ollie!” I cried, my heart threatening to burst out of my chest. “What’s Morgan’s forfeit?”

“Alright, but you both have to promise that you won’t get ma-”

“Ollie!!” we both demanded in unison.

He shrugged, and relented. “Morgan gets a spanking by whoever wins the hand.”

There was a long silence as Morgan and I processed this.

“‘A’ spanking? Just one slap on the butt?” Morgan finally asked, her voice strangely calm.

Ollie considered it for a moment. “One per dollar. Tyler’s got three dollars left, so three slaps.”

Morgan just nodded, concentrating fiercely as Ollie dealt the cards. The three of us played with trembling hands, and moments later it was over. No point in trying to milk it for suspense: Ollie, of course, won expediently.

“Holy shit,” I whispered.

“I… I guess I have to pay the forfeit now,” Morgan said again in the same distant, calm voice.

CHAPTER 5 - KISSING LESSONS (part 2)

“You don’t have to sound so miserable about it,” Ollie said with a scowl. But his eyes were wide and blazing with anticipation.

“I’m not!” squeaked Morgan, seeming to snap out of her trance. “I’m just nervous, is all. You have to be gentle.”

And just like that, it was happening. Morgan stood beside where Ollie sat, bending slightly and placing her hands on her knees, pushing her ass out for him to spank. Pushing her ass out for him.

It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. My stomach was doing somersaults

“Okay… Uh, one?” Ollie brought his hand down on her right ass cheek. The fabric dampened the sound of any impact.

“Uhhh…” stammered Morgan, shooting me a sheepish glance. “These are supposed to be spankings, right? You don’t have to be that gentle.”

Oh my god, Morgan.

“Okay??” said Ollie, sounding annoyed. You just got to touch my girlfriend’s ass and you have the nerve to be annoyed, dickhead? “Two!”

Whap. This time the impact made a soft noise as he put some force into the swing, favoring her left cheek with the blow this time around. My dick was inching down my thigh as blood pumped into it.

“And, thr-”

“Wait, Ollie?” Morgan said, her voice suddenly tense.

He waited.

She was still slightly bent over, pointing her ass at him while he stared at it.

Finally she uttered, “Uhhh, for the third one, we should….” She hooked her thumbs into her leggings, glancing at me with a terrified, deer-in-headlights expression.

Whatever she saw in my eyes caused her to swoon slightly. She peeled down her leggings.

“Oh my god,” Ollie said. Morgan’s ass cheeks were threaded with a lacy thong, almost completely exposed to him.

“Okay,” Morgan murmured. “You can spank me now.”


There was a long silence as Ollie stared at her nearly bare ass, gobsmacked. His first time beholding my beloved Morgan’s backside.

“Are-” my words came out choked. “Are you going to spank her, dude?” It sounded like my voice was coming from somewhere far away.

When Ollie looked at me, the fire was literally reflected in his eyes and it fit his facial expression quite well. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’m going to. But Morgan, you should be bent over my lap.”

“Okay,” she said instantly as my heart skipped several beats. She shuffled awkwardly, her knees trapped together by her half-pulled-down leggings.

Morgan gingerly arranged herself over Ollie’s lap, her knees and arms supported by the picnic table bench on either side of him. Even in the firelight, I could tell they were both crimson red from blushing. I was certain I was as well.

“Holy shit,” Ollie intoned, staring down at Morgan’s ass. He gingerly placed his hands on her thigh and lower back, respectively. Touching my Morgan.

Morgan buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“I know,” Ollie agreed.

“Are you going to spank her already?” I said again. Why couldn’t I shut the fuck up? I was humiliating myself, sounding downright eager for it. I rationalized that to Ollie, maybe it sounded like I just wanted it to be over with.

“Yeah,” he said. “In a second.”

“You’re like, drawing this out on purpose,” I accused.

“One hundred percent I am,” he said. “Dude, your girlfriend has such a nice ass, holy fuck.”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting to see it again.”

“Again?!”

He stared at me blankly. “Yeah dude. She didn’t tell you about how she flashed me in the shower?”

But that was only from the front. We’d been over every detail of that encounter over and over. Had Morgan lied to me about what happened?

Morgan peeked at me from between her fingers, and the guilt on her face told me she had.

“Yeah, she told me,” I said. Although, I guess she hadn’t, apparently.

“Hurry up and spank me, Ollie,” my girlfriend moaned. I guess her guilt was overridden by the excitement of the situation. She actually arched her back and pushed her naked ass up for him expectantly. I wondered if he was getting glimpses of anything more explicit as she did so; were her vulva and asshole winking into view?

“Okay,” Ollie said. “... Okay. Three!”

Whap!

He failed to remove his hand from her bare ass. The two of us stared at his hand on my girlfriend’s ass. The ass she had apparently flashed him previously, a fact which she had for some reason felt compelled to hide from me. Even though we’d both revelled time and again in our mutual arousal at his having seen her naked.

Again, the person who was apparently in control of my voice spoke up. “It should count as just one,” I said.

“Huh?” said Ollie.

“The first two didn’t count,” I said, feeling myself turn even redder.

Morgan moaned again.

Ollie chuckled and my ears burned.

“You’re like, into this shit bro?” he said. I couldn’t respond, but I didn’t need to; Morgan’s vocalizations were confirming it.

He moved his hand to Morgan’s other ass cheek and squeezed it. She arched her back again, pushing herself into his touch.

“You don’t care that I’m touching Morgan’s ass?” he pressed.

“It’s the forfeit,” I mumbled.

Whap! He brought his hand down again. Whap! He resumed his fondling, moving his hand from cheek to cheek.

“Okay, that’s three now. It’s not the forfeit anymore. Should I stop?” He flashed me a shit-eating grin, his eyea defiant.

“Jesus, Ollie,” I said.

“Actually, I think those three didn’t count either. I should have made Morgan thank me for each spanking.”

“What the fuck, dude?” I demanded, while Morgan groaned and writhed in response to his words.

“I’m not going to do that, Ollie,” she said. But her voice was dripping with sex.

“Fine,” Ollie said. And I saw the flash of anger in his eyes before his hand came down with far more force than before. WHAP!

And just like that, the mood was broken. “What the hell, Ollie?!” Morgan demanded, immediately rolling off his lap and rubbing her ass gingerly. “That really hurt!”

“... It was supposed to be a spanking!” Ollie protested.

“You’re not supposed to actually hurt her, man,” I scolded, feeling myself go into protective boyfriend mode.

“Oh, fuck this,” Ollie said. “You guys keep involving me in your freaky shit and then yelling at me when I do it wrong. How the fuck am I supposed to know? I’ve literally never touched a girl’s ass before.”

I had half a mind to stride over and strike him across the face, but Morgan used a different tact. She’d pulled up her pants and sat beside him. “This is how you know,” she said patiently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “From us giving you feedback.” No objection over his assessment about our “shit” being “freaky”, I noted.

“You don’t have to be such dicks about it.”

“Bro,” I said.

“I let you feel my ass, Ollie!” my girlfriend chirped. “How are we being dicks?”

No snappy retort was forthcoming from Ollie, and the three of us spent a moment ruminating on Morgan’s words.

“It’s just,” he said after a bit. “It’s like, I really like hanging out with you guys. I feel like you’re the best friends I’ve made here.”

“We like hanging out with you too, Ollie,” I said, somewhat truthfully.

“But it also kinda sucks!” he went on. “Like, you guys are so close and have such an amazing and confident relationship. And it just kinda rubs in how I don’t have a girlfriend and I’ve never had a girlfriend. And then it just shows how I’m never gonna have a girlfriend and even if I did, I’d obviously piss her off like, immediately because I don’t know how to treat a girl at all, and like, FUCK.”

“Come on man, it’s not like that,” I said. Although honestly, I did think he had a point.

“Yeah Ollie,” Morgan said. “You just push things a little too far sometimes. It’s not like you’re a bad guy or anything.”

“I’m fat and ugly and if I ever do find a girl that looks at me as like, worthy, she’s going to immediately figure out I’m just a kissless, hugless virgin who’s terrified of women.”

Morgan was rubbing her hand around on his shoulder comfortingly as she spoke. “But that’s not necessarily all bad. I bet there are lots of girls at our school who don’t have a lot of experience, and would be more comfortable being with a guy who was similar.”

Ollie just snorted. Morgan looked at me helplessly, questioningly. I just shrugged, at a loss. Ollie muttered something under his breath, but I couldn’t hear him.

“What was that?” I asked.

His head snapped up at me. “I said there’s no way there’s anybody else at our school who hasn’t even gotten kissed before!” he thundered.

Ah, so there it was. Ollie’s game, this whole sad bastard routine he was pulling, was suddenly, instantly clear to me.

“Ah shit man,” I muttered, mostly to myself, putting my hands on my head and walking in a circle around the bonfire,

“Is that what’s bothering you?” I heard Morgan saying. “You’ve never kissed a girl?”

“And even if I did get the chance,” he moaned, “I’d probably be so bad at it, just like with the spanking.”

Here we fucking go, I said to myself. I felt myself becoming angry; I mean, shouldn’t I be angry about this fucker angling to kiss my girlfriend? Surely Morgan wasn’t buying this. But glancing over, she was still hanging on his shoulder with concern.

And, I realized, the notion that Morgan was in any way entertaining this was way more titillating to me than if she had reacted like I assumed she would. A dark excitement stole into me as she uttered her next words.

”Well,” Morgan said, shifting uneasily and glancing in my direction. “If it’s okay with me and Tyler…”

Thump. Thump.

”… Yeah?” prompted Ollie.

”Idunnoyoucouldpracticekissingwithme,” Morgan exhaled in a tiny voice.

I could barely understand what she’d said, but it hadn’t been necessary. All three of us knew what was being communicated.

”… Yeah?” Ollie repeated, like an NPC caught in a loop.

”Y-yeah!” She squeaked. “Right Tyler??”

I felt my chest tighten at being brought into this. Just fucking do it if you’re going to do it, I thought. It felt somehow more humiliating to voice my consent.

On the other hand, there was no way in fuck Ollie was kissing my girlfriend without my permission.

“Sure,” I made myself say, my voice sounding flat and distant.

Ollie and Morgan immediately turned towards each other on the bench, now faced with the task of kissing. They looked at each other and cracked shit-eating grins of embarrassment.

”Fuck,” said Ollie.

“What?!”

”I’m all nervous now!” he protested.

“So am I.”

”My breath smells bad.”

”We’ve all been drinking, so does mine!”

”I’m going to be bad at it!”

”That’s the whole point, Ollie! To help you improve!” And with her eyes blazing, Morgan swooped in and planted a quick peck on the side of Ollie’s mouth before he could react.

A long silence hung.

“Can you, uh, do that again?” Ollie murmured.

She did. This time on the other side. She was catching mostly cheek but some lip as well. “Okay Ollie, your turn now.”

None of his body moved except his head. He craned his neck out and kissed my girlfriend as she’d done for him, not fully on the mouth but partially.

“See,” Morgan chirped encouragingly. “This isn’t so bad, right?”

He just stared at her. Intensely. Then he swooped in for another. Morgan giggled.

”Okay now this time, try putting your hands…” Morgan scooted closer to Ollie, placing one hand on her waist and the other behind her head.

This kiss was directly on the mouth. I was frozen in place beside the fire, watching my girlfriend tenderly press her lips against our chubby incel housemate’s.

I was holding the flask, I realized. I unscrewed the lid and took a draught.

I heard the smack of their lips pulling apart, but they immediately refastened into another kiss. “Mmmph,” Ollie noted in appreciation.

“Are you guys,” I breathed, liquid courage in my blood. “Are you guys going to stop fucking around and kiss for real already?”

“Mmmmm!” Morgan moaned emphatically. Their mouths were still pressed together, and now they opened; she gripped his shoulders and they both groaned into their open-mouthed kiss.

Why am I all the way the fuck over here? I suddenly wondered, dick throbbing. I should be enjoying a front row seat to this debauchery. But walking towards them to achieve this seemed unimaginably humiliating.

“Alright, lesson one,” Morgan said, pulling back after what seemed like minutes. “That’s way too much tongue, Ollie.”

“... Okay?” he huffed, immediately defensive. Shut the fuck up and let her teach you, moron, I fumed.

“Here, let me show you.” She cocked her head to the other side; even at the distance, I could see her tongue teasingly dart into his mouth as they kissed again. “Just a little tongue,” she said, and demonstrated for him once more. “Like, tease me with it. Okay, you try.”

Whatever technique Ollie brought to bear, he must have done well, for it caused Morgan to groan appreciatively. Her words confirmed it when the kiss broke a few moments later.

“That was hot, Ollie,” she gushed. I felt as though I might pass out hearing this.

Ollie didn’t miss a beat but, capitalizing on my girlfriend’s arousal, seized her face to administer further teasings with his tongue into her open mouth. Morgan moaned again, more forcefully, placing her hands around him and pushing herself into him.

This was no longer kissing lessons; they were using each other for their sexual gratification.

I just stared, dumbfounded. My dick was achingly hard in my pants. It was the most debauched thing I could have imagined.

“You learn fast,” she raved breathlessly when they finally came up for air.

“You’re a good teacher,” he murmured. They were gazing into each other’s eyes; what the fuck was happening?

She moaned at his praise and they instinctively tore into each other again, no longer hesitantly teasing with their tongues but just slobbering into the one another’s mouths, her fingers in his hair.

“Fuck,” I said. I didn’t have any point to make, I just didn’t want to feel as left-out as I was feeling at that moment.

I could have sworn Morgan sighed in mild exasperation at my intrusion. Ollie didn’t give a shit, though.

“So sometimes a lot of tongue is okay?” he wanted to know.

Morgan was panting, out of breath. “Yeah, once you get a girl kinda worked up you can just go with it and do what comes natural.”

His hand shot to her breast. She looked down at it, then up at him, grinning ear to ear. “Yeah, like that.” He was squeezing her tit ever-so-gently. “Can I teach you something else? Stick out your tongue for me.”

He complied, and I watched my sweet, shy, innocent girlfriend tilt her head and move her lips back and forth over his protruding tongue. Sucking it like a cock, Ollie growling from the sensation, his fingers digging harder into her breastflesh. She did this for only a few seconds and then pulled back, looking at him sheepishly. “There’s so much stuff you can do to make kissing hot,” she explained. “You’re actually really good at this, Ollie!”

Of course, he huffed indignantly. “Yeah, ‘actually,’” he mocked.

But Morgan didn’t care. She wanted more of Ollie’s “really good” kissing, and she practically swooned as she melted into his touch for more of it.

I took another swig of booze and gave my aching dick a squeeze over my pants. I resolved to keep my mouth shut and see how this unprecedented scenario might develop.

Ollie broke away from their make-out session suddenly. “Have I been social enough with you guys to earn another flash, Morgan?” His expression was deadly serious.

Morgan grinned bashfully and shot me an embarrassed look, the first she’d acknowledged me in some time. My hand was on my dick, eyes blazing with lust. Whether my intention or not, I helped steel her resolve to push this depravity even further.

She didn’t respond verbally. She raised her arms above her head submissively.

Bless his heart, it took Ollie a few beats to understand what she was offering. Then he was tugging her shirt over her head, her tits spilling out of her favorite bra as fabric peeled over them.

Apparently this was too long for Morgan to go without Ollie’s tongue in her face and they kissed for a few moments as Ollie hopelessly fumbled with her clasp. “What the fuck,” he brayed in frustration.

Morgan giggled. “You’ll get good at it soon, I promise.”

Another tutorial ensued as Morgan turned her back to Ollie, walking him through the procedure of removing a girl’s undergarment. She turned back around, arms crossed over her chest with an impish and embarrassed smile on her face.

“Fuck, Morgan,” Ollie spat, grabbing for her wrists and forcing her arms apart. Her perky breasts bounced into our view, the firelight dancing on her stiff nipples.

“Oh my!” she cried at his forcefulness, clearly basking in the state she'd put him in.

Time stood still as Ollie stared at Morgan’s bare breasts, inches from his face.

“I love them so much,” he admitted.

“It’s so hot the way you react to them,” she confessed in return.

He reached his hands out, cupping them both from beneath. “Wow,” he muttered. “.... Wow.”

“Wanna kiss me while you feel my tits?”

“In a minute,” he said. The fucking audacity of this guy. I’m watching my incel roommate fondle my girlfriend’s naked tits, I reminded myself, causing my stomach to do somersaults.

Kissing Morgan while keeping both hands on her tits was a bit awkward, but they managed. He was steadfast about maintaining his grip on them.

“I think I’ll die if I don’t get to see them more,” he protested.

“Mmmmmm,” she sighed appreciatively. “You’ll get to see them a lot from now on.”

“What do you mean? How much?”

Morgan looked at me pleadingly. “Every time I’m over at the suite, I’ll make sure you get to see them at least once.” Ollie moaned in excitement. “It can be, like, a rule.”

“What if Bobby and Andrew are home?”

She shrugged, her bare shoulders somehow emphasizing both her innocence and exhibitionism. “It will just have to be a quick flash if they’re home.”

“What about kissing?”

“Hmmph! I think you don’t need any more kissing lessons!”

“Morgannnnn,” he wailed. “Kissing you is so fucking hot though.”

She giggled and looked at me while he squeezed her tits and bounced them up and down, palming them from beneath. “What do you think, Tyler? Should Ollie get to keep kissing me?”

I groaned, cursing the fact that I was thinking entirely with my dick in this moment. “It can be another rule,” I stammered.

“What should the rule be?”

“He gets to see your boobs,” I exhaled, “and kiss you. You have to find a way to kiss him and flash him every time you visit.”

They beamed at one another in delight at receiving this decree.

—-

Co-conspiring with Ollie to encourage Morgan along the path of debauchery felt less humiliating than standing idly by. At our behest, Morgan agreed to remain topless during our hike back towards civilization, gently ridiculing us for our obsession with her breasts as we made our way. The going was slow, as either Ollie or I constantly had a hand on her chest, the image of her titties bouncing with every step making them irresistible, drawing us towards them over and over like moths to a flame.

Sometimes we’d stop her so we could each seize a breast, Morgan grinning ear to ear while we tested their give and pulled at her nipples. My hand would collide with Ollie’s as we felt across her chest, and we’d mumble apologies to one another.

I apologized to my incel suitemate for interfering with his fondling of Morgan’s tits time and again as we descended the trail. Several times, I stopped and waited patiently while he insisted on “just one more” quick make-out, his hands thrust roughly down her leggings so he could kneed her asscheeks while they tongued each other’s mouths.

I braced myself for him to request contact with her pussy, both dreading the moment and also darkly hoping he’d work up the courage to ask. But he didn’t have it in him, apparently.

The mood inevitably shifted when we were back on campus. Morgan, now clothed, found herself compelled back to propriety. Her hand seized mine tightly, and our interlaced fingers meant the world to me, assuring me that whatever tumult had ensued over the course of the night, Morgan was still mine.

“Are you staying over?” I asked as our path took us by her dorm before we arrived at the suite.

“Oh my god, Tyler,” she blurted. “Yes? I, like, need you inside me.”

Ollie snorted. He was, apparently, still Ollie.

It was quite late and our other suitemates had retired. Ollie mumbled some words of appreciation for the “crazy” night we’d had, and made a beeline for his room; I imagined he had some needs to tend to after spending an evening sucking on Morgan’s pretty face and glorying in her full, round tits and ass.

Morgan was the wettest she’d ever been when I dove into her. The need to discuss the night’s events, the boundaries that we’d crossed, and Morgan’s deception regarding the prior ass-flashing would have to wait; it was all she could do to keep her sex voice to a suite-appropriate level while she fucked me.

It was the first time she came without us needing to dirty talk about teasing Ollie, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he was foremost on her mind as she rode me, eyes shut tight.

That's what I got so far. Working on chapter 6, should have it up in a few days

Sooo good, please continue.

I'm enjoying it, Scarf. I hope you continue. Thanks for sharing! You've done a lot of work on this.

I really appreciate the kind words, folks

CHAPTER 6 - NEW RULES (part 1)

A feeling of panic as I awoke and the reality of the previous night set in on me. How could all that have really happened?! How was I supposed to face Ollie now that he’d made out with my girlfriend and played with her body in front of me?

As my surroundings came into focus, I saw that Morgan was already awake, playing with herself beside me, her hand moving vigorously across her clit under the covers. The jealousy surged to greater heights, as did my arousal. She’s so radiantly beautiful. How could a creep like Ollie have gotten to enjoy such a creature? I felt as if on the verge of panic.

“Why did you lie to me about flashing him in the shower?” I rushed out the words before fear of confrontation could dissuade me.

Morgan froze, her eyes popping open with a deer-in-headlights expression. “Tyler, I’m really sorry..”

“It’s okay,” I immediately soothed, running a hand across her naked belly. “I just don’t understand. Like, you know I would have been turned on to hear.”

Time seemed to hang while she considered her response. “It’s just, the way it happened was kind of embarrassing,” she finally said. “And once I fibbed and told you he had only seen me from the front, it was hard to admit that it hadn’t been the truth.”

We sat in silence for a moment before I plunged ahead with the obvious question. “Can you… can you tell me what happened now, though? I promise I won’t be mad or anything.” A part of me felt foolish for putting the question in such a timid and pleading fashion, but I reminded myself that I wasn’t the sort of guy who tried to be controlling of his partner’s autonomy.

The movement of her fingers resumed ever-so-subtley. “Well, the way I told it to you, I really played up how confident I’d been, how I’d had him at my mercy and all that,” she explained. “And that was mostly true. At first. But then once I was standing there completely naked in front of him, the tides just kinda turned…”

My dick throbbed to life as we dove back into one of our favorite topics to climax over, the promise of new details as tantalizing as the jealousy her dishonesty had instilled.

“How so?” I prompted.

“I mean, after the rush of flinging open the curtain, the reality just set in. He could see my vagina, Tyler. You know how embarrassed I was for you to see me down there at first. And I’d just trimmed earlier, so my … lips .. were fully on display. And his eyes were locked on them. I felt so vulnerable and suddenly, like, at his mercy.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah. And then he told me to turn around so he could see me from behind. And like, I don’t know what it was but my body just automatically moved to obey him.”

“Oh, wow.” Even in light of last night’s escalations, the thought of Morgan behaving submissively to Ollie like this felt so impossibly wrong and inappropriate, yet so unbelievably erotic. We spent a few moments masturbating together contemplating it.

“I just waited there while he drank in the sight of my ass,” she admitted. “Like, I wanted him to – mmm — be able to look as long as he wanted. I even made sure to not look over my shoulder at him, so he could feel less inhibited gawking as he pleased.”

“That’s so fucking hot,” I muttered, squeezing her tits to add to augment her self-pleasure.

She glared at me, hunger in her eyes. “So… I’m not in trouble for lying?”

How could this angel ever be in trouble? I still couldn’t believe that a girl this sweet and lovely was willing to call herself my girlfriend.

“No.” The devil on my shoulder whispered to me, urging me to further admit the truth of how this all made me feel. “It’s actually… hot that there was more of the story I finally got to hear. It’s not like I haven’t nutted over and over to what I already knew.”

Her movements increased rapidly as I confessed my lust for her indiscretion, her orgasm quickly approaching.

A wild thought occurred to me and I acted upon it before wisdom prevailed.

“Stop,” I commanded.

“Tyler, I’m so close…”

“Stop,” I said again, grabbing her wrist. “You’re not allowed to cum yet.”

“Please,” she begged. “Why can’t I cum? I’m so fucking turned on right now..”

“You’re forgetting the new rules.”

My pronouncement hung heavy between us as her eyes bulged at me.

“You mean… you mean…”

“You didn’t kiss him or flash him when we got back to the suite last night,” I plunged ahead. “You already broke the new rules.”

“I’d just spent, like, an hour showing him my tits and making out with him though!”

My heart pounded at the mere acknowledgement of what had transpired. We hadn’t even had the chance to discuss last night’s events, and here I was sending her back for more. “I know.. I think we were all maxed out on the naughtiness by the time we got back here last night. But the rules technically say once per visit…”

“Are you saying… you want me to…”

We both faltered. Directly stating what we were proposing she do was almost too humiliating to put to voice.

“... then you can come back here and cum while you tell me about it?” I ventured, wishing I didn’t sound so meek. Like I was begging my girlfriend to go kiss our asshole friend again.

“O-okay,” she stammered, unsteadily rising from the bed. She’d stored some nightwear in my dresser due to the frequency of our sleepovers; the pajama pants she pulled on emphasized her plump backside. The thin tank top left little to the imagination, the shape and color her excited nipples visible through the fabric.

She paused at the door. “Tyler…”

“Hurry,” I said, stroking my dick. I needed her to do this before we came to our senses. “I … I want to hear about what happens so fucking bad…”

—-

I expected Morgan to be gone for just a minute or two. A kiss, a glimpse of her breasts, and then a return to my bed so we could fondle each other or have sex while discussing our relationship’s new normal.

It was fully fifteen minutes before she returned, her face flush.

“Morgan..”

She scrambled back into bed with me, our four hands scrambling to undress her with urgency.

“You were gone so long,” I hissed.

Her eyes bulged at me. “Tyler, I… he…”

I shut her up with a kiss, putting all my passion into it. Feeling territorial over the lips I was now sharing with our suitemate.

“Talk,” I ordered. “Did Andrew or Bobby see you go in there?”


She shook her head. “They were still asleep.”

She’d received a grumpy “who is it” in response to her soft knock on Ollie’s door, she explained.

“Just saying ‘it’s me’ was, like, so embarrassing Tyler. Like it made the reality of what I was doing set in.”

There had been a long pause while Ollie presumably processed it as well, but sure enough he’d invited my Morgan in. To make good on her promise of regular access to her body.

“His room was a mess,” she continued. “Like, there was a whole pile of crumpled up tissues all over his bed and floor.”

“From fapping to you.”

“Yeah…”

“He probably blew, like, load after load over what happened last night once he was alone in his room.”

“Yeah, he told me so,” she said, unable to meet my gaze. “He seemed a little embarrassed but not as much as I would have expected, you know?”

“What did he say?”

“He like, apologized for the mess but said he couldn’t help himself, that I’d gotten him really worked up last night.”

“Fuck.”

“It was a little awkward,” she said. “Like, in the cold light of day it suddenly seemed hard to make the first move and do what I was there to do. It’s a good thing I was already insanely turned on or I might have chickened out.”

“Was it, like, a turnoff?” I asked. “Seeing his messy room, being faced with kissing our chubby housemate?”

She shrugged. “I don’t really mind the way he looks, Tyler. It kind of makes it feel more naughty, to have… chemistry with someone even though they’re not, you know, conventionally attractive.”

My heart pounded at this admission. Morgan thinks she and Ollie have chemistry. It was, I had to admit, undeniable from the way they’d attacked each other during last night’s kissing lesson.

“So what happened??”

“Will.. will you have sex with me while I tell you? This is going to be hard to say, I want to feel connected with you while we talk about it.”

Terrified but desperate to hear what she might have in store for me, I spooned my naughty girlfriend and pushed myself into her; she was soaked.

“Anyway, I tried to be flirtatious and make it less awkward. I said, ‘All that just for me?’ and sat down on his bed, trying to let him know it was flattering that he had needed to.. to masturbate to me.”

“Mmph.”

“It kinda broke the ice. He grinned all lecherously at me. I think we both knew what I was there to do at that point, but he made me say it anyway. He was like, ‘So what do you need, Morgan?’”

“Jesus. And?” I pushed my length into her and held myself there.

“Ughh, so I told him. I said, ‘Well, you remember the new rules.’ He just sat there waiting expectantly. It was so fucking embarrassing. I had to actually ask him, ‘is it okay if I give you your kiss now?’”

“Oh fuck. And I’m guessing it was okay...”

“I think he really liked the power I was giving him. To offer myself to him like that.”

“I fucking bet!”

“He like, smirked at me and waited a long time before he answered. I was just dying of shame.”

“What the fuuuuck,” I moaned.

“Finally he goes, ‘I’d like to see your tits first.’ It was so crazy to hear him say that, Tyler. He gets to just order me to show my boobs now.”

I had to stop thrusting into her to keep from climaxing too soon.

“So did you show him??”

She shut her eyes tight and nodded. “My hands were shaking so bad, I swear. It was so much easier last night with you there, and being buzzed from the alcohol? But now I felt like such a… such a slut, Tyler.”

She spat the word out almost disgustedly, but she ground herself against me all the while.

“So I just made myself do it. I said ‘okay, here’ and pulled my shirt up so he could see them.”

“Nngh.” Jealousy raged but it was so fucking hot to hear her confirm that he’d seen her breasts again, that she’d exposed herself for his pleasure.

“I held it up for a few moments and then started lowering my hands, but he sort of snapped at me, ‘that’s it??’ In that, like, entitled way he has. And I don’t know why I just.. I just did what he said. ‘I’d like to get a good look at them,’ he told me. ‘It was kinda dark last night and I didn’t get to really appreciate them.’”

“This fucker…”

“I know, he’s such a creep but my tummy was just flopping over itself letting him ogle me. And then I saw his covers, like, moving..”

“....No.”

“Yes!”

“He wouldn’t.”

“He did! Just started touching himself to the sight of my tits, right there in front of me.”

“Did you tell him to stop??”

Her body froze up at this question.

“Morgan..”

Her voice was small as she answered. “It was exciting,” she said. “It was like, seeing my breasts is so powerful that he can’t help but just start jacking off even with me right there.”

“So what happened??”

“Well, I was staring at the tent he was making in his sheets and he saw me looking. And he like, mumbled an apology but was just like, ‘They’re too pretty, I’m sorry but I can’t help it.’”

“What did you say?!”

“Ugh. I told him I knew he was going to fap to me after I left so he might as well just do it.”

“What the fuck!”

“I’m sorry Tyler, it honestly felt so naughty I could barely think straight. And plus I kinda thought you would, you know… you would like it?”

I seized her breasts kinda roughly as I fucked her in response. “You’re such a bad girl, Morgan. Keep talking!”

“So he got real blatant, really pumping himself. And then he was like, ‘It’s kinda hard to manage under the covers like this…’”

“...”

“So I just shrugged at him and said, ‘Do what you need to do.’ I’m still holding my shirt up so that he can see my tits this whole time, mind you.”

“Hnnnngh.”

“So he didn’t even hesitate. He just like, flung the covers down. He was wearing a white undershirt and.. Nothing else.”

“You saw… you saw his..”

She blushed furiously but couldn’t answer me.

“Was it… what did it …”

“It was, like, such an Ollie dick,” she groaned. “Like he had so much pubic hair, I don’t think he’s ever groomed himself down there. And he’s not, not … circumcised.”

“Gross.”

“It was kinda gross but that just made it kinda special, that he was opening up to me and letting me see his fat ugly penis.”

Fat?! As humiliating as my next question was going to be, as a man I just had to know. “Was he… compared to me..?”

She grinned, embarrassed to answer. “He’s about the same length as you, I think…”

“The same length.”

“Ughh, he has a really thick penis, Tyler,” she moaned. “Like, I didn’t even know they could get that thick.”

“What the fuck!”

“I’m so relieved yours isn’t like that!” she immediately assured me. “It looks like it would, like, hurt.”

That she had even contemplated how it might feel inside her was a punch to the gut.

I fucked her slowly for a few moments as we both processed her utterances.

“So he was stroking it,” she finally went on. “Hmmph. And then he, like, told me..”

“What??”

“He was like ‘it’s okay, you can stare at it if you want.’”

“Oh, Morgan,” I moaned.

“I was so busted,” she cried. “And he kept going. ‘It would help me finish quicker if you let me touch you.’”

“And you let him,” I despaired, barely keeping my orgasm at bay.

She nodded. “It didn’t seem like there was any point in saying no. He’s already felt them so much and I had told him he could jack off to them..”

“Did he ask for anything else?!”

She nodded immediately. “It was like the floodgates were open. He made me.. Fuck Tyler, he made me rub them on his face.”

“Your tits,” I wailed softly.

“Yeah, he made me rub my tits on his face while he stroked his fat dick to them. Fuck!” she hung onto my hand on her breast where I was still gripping her roughly, as if for dear life.

She continued. “And to finish, he… he…”

“What, Morgan?!”

“He made me suck his tongue again like I did last night,” she moaned, and her body seized up as she began bucking against me. I had never seen her cum so hard.

—

Coming down from our orgasms, we had a Serious Conversation about what all this meant for our relationship and our friendship with Ollie.

From Morgan’s perspective, we had been basically using Ollie repeatedly for our private sexual satisfaction, having climax after climax over the supposed “naughtiness” of Morgan giving him glimpses of her body. So not only would last night’s and this morning’s episodes provide us with even better fodder for our kink, it was also a bit of karmic justice that Ollie was finally getting some benefit from it as well.

That Ollie had not just seen Morgan naked and kissed her, but actually climaxed in her presence, was such a mind-boggling development that we sort of danced around it in our talk.

We agreed that it all had to be having a positive effect on his socialization. He’d said we were his best friends on campus; to have this couple he admired demonstrate such confidence in their relationship’s stability, operating without possessiveness or jealousy, had got to be a positive influence on his view of gender roles.

“It’s not that I don’t feel jealous, though,” I reminded her.

She nodded. “I know. But like we’ve discussed, there really isn’t any reason for you to be. It’s not like you think of me as your property or something.”

“I think of you as my extremely naughty girlfriend,” I teased, slipping a hand between her legs in the hopes of starting up another round of love making.

CHAPTER 6 - NEW RULES (part 2)

Morgan rebuffed this advance, having school projects that needed tending to. Which I did as well, but found I could concentrate on nothing other than the angst and arousal that was now constantly running on a background level in my head.

I puttered around the suite tidying up and doing other chores (which Ollie still wasn’t contributing to at all), bracing myself to act like everything was normal when Bobby and Andrew eventually appeared from their rooms. To my relief, they had agendas of their own and barely paid me more than a perfunctory greeting before vacating the premises.

“Hey, man.”

I froze up for a moment, startled by Ollie’s voice behind me. I was so used him staying sequestered in his room, it hadn’t occurred to me I’d have to be interacting with him one on one so soon.

“..Hey,” I managed. I zeroed in on my current task, washing several days’ accumulation of dirty dishes. I could feel Ollie shifting nervously behind me and a glance over my shoulder confirmed it.

“So, uh…” he began. Sensing that he wanted to address things with me, I shut off the water and turned to face him.

“You good, man?” I prompted. I’m still the one with the hot girlfriend, I told myself. There was no reason to feel intimidated by goddamn Ollie of all people.

His face lit up with a self-satisfied grin. “Yeah, like, really good! Last night was, like, really awesome.”

“Yeah,” I acknowledged. “It was pretty wild.”

“Dude, your girlfriend is so amazing.”

So it appeared that we were going to have this conversation. My tongue felt huge in my mouth, like it was blocking any words from coming out. “I know,” I forced myself to say. “She really is.”

“I guess she told you about what happened this morning?” he continued.

Gulp. “Y-yeah man, she told me.” Although now the notion occurred to me that perhaps certain details had been omitted, like she’d done with shower incident. I felt heat spreading across my face and prayed it wasn’t too obvious.

“Cool,” he nodded. Then, after a pregnant silence, “So, uh, do you think Morgan is coming over again later?”

A rueful grin seized my features in spite of the awkwardness of this exchange. This horny bastard couldn’t wait to get his hands on her again. “I dunno, she might be. I think she’s got work to do.”

He nodded, not quite meeting my eye. “Cool. Well, uh, let me know.”

The conversation hadn’t been that bad, all things considered. A little awkward, but wasn’t part of our stated objective enticing Ollie to be more sociable with all of us, myself included?

Morgan didn’t make it around that evening, or for the next couple days; her classwork proved to be of greater magnitude and difficulty than she’d anticipated. She and I met up for meals in the campus dining center, carefully tiptoeing around the topic that was no doubt foremost on our minds.

Finally, on the third day, I could no longer contain my nervous anticipation. “Ollie’s been wondering when you’re going to come over again,” I blurted while walking her back to her dorm.

I snuck a glance to assess her reaction; she was staring forward as if in concentration. “I see,” she murmured. She thought for a few moments. “Well, I could stop by, but I can’t spend the night tonight. I still have to finish this project.”

I nodded. “That’s, uh, fine I guess.”

“So it would just be for Ollie, really,” she went on. “And then I’d have to leave.” My insides turned themselves into knots at this acknowledgement. “Is that… is that okay?”

“Is it okay with you?” I returned. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want-”

“No, I want to,” she said immediately. I looked for a hint of playfulness but saw only determination upon her features.

We changed direction to make our way to the suite instead of her room, a heavy silence between us. My mouth was dry with an anxiety I could barely distinguish from sexual appetite.

“Bobby and Andrew are probably home,” I pointed out as we approached the building’s entrance. “How can… how should we…”

We paused to contemplate our strategy, rather stumped. “You have to think of something, Tyler!” she prompted after a few false starts.

“We could, I mean, you could…” I wracked my brain. “The money! The money you owe him from the poker game.”

Morgan was shaking her head. “But will that be enough time? For him to, you know..”

I gaped at her. “Does he have to do that every time, now?!”

She was blushing furiously. “I kinda told him he could, yeah,” she deadpanned.

So there had been more to their interaction than she’d let on. I stared at her in disbelief for a few moments, but if the agony on my face gave her any pause, she kept it to herself.

My Morgan had apparently promised to make her body available for Ollie to fap over every time she visits, I told myself, wallowing in the jealousy the revelation instilled. And her mouth and tongue. My dick swelled.

“It’s fine,” I said finally.

She looked up at me sharply. “Are you sure?!”

“Yes,” I said, trying to control my tone and not sound angry. I’m not sure that I was angry. “Even if you’re in his room for a few minutes, Ollie’s like, our friend now. The last thing the guys will assume is that, you know..”

She was nodding. “Okay, let’s do it. Oh god Tyler, I’m nervous but I’m so glad I’m doing this…”

—

If Andrew and Bobby detected anything amiss with Morgan’s mood, or thought it weird that she spent a good ten minutes behind closed doors with Ollie, they gave no indication.

I stewed in my bedroom, door ajar. Caught between annoyance that our walls weren’t thin enough to permit me to hear the details of what might be transpiring between Ollie and Morgan, and relief that it meant they had sufficient privacy from our other suitemates. Trying to figure out why this was a far more agonizing experience than everything we’d been through previously.

The angst subsided only partially when, at last, Morgan slipped into my room and closed the door behind her. I gawked at her, willing myself to give voice to my desire to learn the play by play of Ollie and Morgan’s latest session.

Morgan’s cheeks were red, her brow slightly furrowed as if in concentration. Not quite looking me in the eye. I crumpled, my face in my hands. “I dunno why,” I moaned, “but this is so much more intense and stressful than the stuff that happened before.”

She was at my side instantly, her arms around me, cradling my head against her chest. “Babe,” she soothed. “I know. It was for me too, kinda.”

There was a sense of relief hearing her say this; not because I wanted to inflict stress on my Morgan, but just because it emphasized that it was something we were going through together. As a couple.

“But why?” I sounded whiny and tried to reign in my tone. “It’s the same stuff that happened before. I mean… isn’t it?”

Morgan might have tensed up ever so slightly at this last question, rhetorical though I’d attempted to make it sound.

“Well, we were all drunk the first time,” she murmured. “And then the next morning, we were, like, wildly turned on. But I didn’t get the impression you were exactly thinking with your dick this time around, Tyler. It was more, I dunno, premeditated.”

I nodded into the fullness of her breasts. “Less heat-of-the-moment.”

“Mmhmm.”

“But it seemed like you were really determined to go through with it anyway,” I said, pulling her into my lap and folding her up in my arms. “You said how excited you were..”

She nodded. “Are you… okay to talk about it? I don’t want to make you, well, too jealous.” I felt her smile into my neck where her head was buried.

“I want to know what you’re feeling, what’s going through your mind.” I traced a hand along the curve of her backside, feeling the pulse as my penis began to swell against her in spite of everything.

“I mean, you remember how nervous I was to get naked with you for the first time? When you got between my legs and looked at me up close?” She’d noticed my expanding dick and shifted against it appreciatively. “It was like, so scary for me to do that for you, I almost wanted the floor to open up and swallow me up. But like, the very fact of how embarrassing it was made me feel so fucking excited.”

I murmured my agreement, reminding myself how unbelievably fortunate I was to have met Morgan, that she’d undertaken the journey of discovering her sexuality with me.

“But I also knew that it wasn’t something I should feel ashamed over. Like, I’m a woman, I have a body, of course I should be sharing it with the boy I love. And, like, I still love it when you look at me down there and how excited it makes you, but it’s not like it was going to keep being as scary for me to do it every time, you know?”

I continued to run my hands along her body, enjoying her touch as she rocked against me more emphatically.

“With Ollie,” she went on, “it’s like it’s actually something naughty. Something I actually shouldn’t be doing. Like, Ollie is still so disrespectful and even, like, misogynistic! And meanwhile I have the sweetest boyfriend in the world, with the prettiest green eyes and a beautiful penis that feels so good inside me.. And meanwhile I’m letting this… this incel crank his ugly dick to me while I… while I…”

“But it’s not like you’re, you know, cheating on me,” I told her, voicing what I intellectually believed to be true. “There is such a thing as ethical nonmonogamy. And I mean, isn’t the whole idea that I’m supposed to have control over what you do with your body just, like, an idea the patriarchy puts in our heads?” But I couldn’t deny the way my stomach lurched at the notions she was describing, that it also made my hands tremble with forbidden excitement like it did hers.

“Well, yeah,” Morgan said. “But I don’t think Ollie thinks of it that way, you know? Which makes it even easier to get into the idea that I’m being a… a slut!”

“Babe,” I comforted. “You’re not a slut, you’re really not.”

Morgan responded with a shrug.

“Babe..” I began. “You’re not… Are you, like, doing stuff with him that I don’t know about?”

She kept her face buried in my neck and shrugged again.

I felt the world fade out around me for a moment. For an instant, it was as if I was looking at my body from far away, looking at the room around me through a tunnel.

“Morgan,” I pleaded. “Babe, please.. Please tell me. I have to know.”

“It’s nothing that bad, Tyler, I swear!” she blurted.

I pushed her shoulders back and squared up to look at her. “Did you.. You didn’t have.. Have sex-”

As soon as the words were uttered, I wished I could recall them. She looked so wounded, so aghast at the suggestion. “Oh Tyler, of course not.”

“Then what? Why are you keeping secrets!”

She threw her arms back around me; I couldn’t stand that my accusation had hurt her, and resolved to hold my tongue until she was ready to speak.

“It was.. With the shower?” she finally began.

“Tell me, babe.”

“I.. I did feel guilty for not being honest with you about that. I really did.”

“I know sweetie, and I swear I’m not mad about it.”

“But it was also.. Oh god Tyler, it was also really hot when I came clean to you. The way you reacted? You got so turned on and you looked at me with this, this hunger..”

I absorbed what she was telling me. The truth was, it had turned me on to hear the additional details. And I’d been nothing but forgiving of her for the indiscretion.

“But so,” I protested. “Don’t you want me to react like that again? Come on Morgan, I want to know what you’ve been doing with him!” I knew I sounded somewhat pathetic but maybe it was okay, I reasoned; this was Morgan and my kink that we shared.

She looked at me and her smile finally returned, shifting her bottom back and forth against my groin as my arousal swelled back into being.

“Well, don’t you want to save it for when we can, you know..”

“??”

“I could tell you about it while we have sex,” she cooed. “About the naughty things your girlfriend has been getting up to..”

“Oh god, please Morgan. I want to have sex with you so bad.”

“While you find out about what a bad girl I am? How I did things with Ollie and kept them secret?”

“Oh. My. Godddd…”

“But I can’t, Tyler!” she chirped, pushing herself off from my lap. “I have to go home and do my homework!”

“Let me.. Let me take care of myself while you tell me, then,” I begged. “Fuck, Morgan, please.. I’m, I’m.. I need to...”

She stared at me, practically basking in my ravenous glare.

“I’ll tell you… one thing,” she finally said.

“One?! How, how many things could there possibly-” I reached for my zipper as I spoke, but Morgan stopped me. I looked up at her in confusion. “What? Why can’t I-”

“It’s Ollie’s idea,” she whispered.

“It’s Ollie’s… what?!”

She slid down beside me, squatting on her haunches. Even through the the loose clothes she was wearing, the sway of her lower back and twin bubbles of her ass cheeks were nearly intolerably sexy.

Morgan’s hand gingerly traced the outline of my rock hard dick where it throbbed needfully in my jeans. “He has all sorts of ideas,” she went on. “Stuff he thinks we should do to, like, add to the new Rules. Help him learn more about how to be with girls.”

I could only stare down at her, my mouth hanging open idiotically.

“He’s kind of a perv, Tyler.”

“Fuck, Morgan.”

“But I mean, some of the stuff he’s suggested.. I think it’s kinda tempting…”

“Oh my god Morgan you have to tell me..”

“Well, so, tonight I told him how we had to be quick because I had to leave soon.”

“Yeah..”

“So he asked if, like, you and I were going to fool around first, before I left.”

“Yeah??”

“And I sort of shrugged and was like ‘maybe, is it any of your business?’”

“Of course it’s fucking not!”

“So he goes, ‘oh man wouldn’t that be fucked up if you came in here to help me cum, and then left without even kissing your actual boyfriend?’”

“...”

“...”

“Did you tell him to go fuck himself?!”

Morgan just smiled at me, her eyebrows travelling up her forehead. “I dunno, did I?”

Her fingers continued walking up and down the length of my fully engorged member. I’d never been able to finish from Morgan using her hands or the few times she’d used her mouth – that damn “stage fright” – but now I actually felt like I might flood my pants from her light touch.

Almost as if she could sense this, she backed away. I shot her the most appalled look I could muster.

“You’re not even gonna fucking kiss me because fucking Ollie told you not to?” I said with all the intensity I could manage at a whisper.

“Oh sweetie,” she said quickly. “Of course I’ll kiss you!”

“Well, thank fucking god!”

“But…”

“!!!”

“Don’t you think it would be .. kinda hot if I didn’t?”

My hand automatically closed over my dick so I could rub myself in earnest; hers closed over mine a moment later, stopping me.

“Like, we can forget all this if it’s not turning you on or if it’s making you genuinely upset,” she went on. “But aren’t you, like, tempted? I could really blow your mind, Tyler.”

“What are you saying baby?” I moaned.

“It will probably take the rest of the week to for me to finish my project,” she said. “So it will be another few days before I can spend the night and have sex with you again. Can you wait that long for me to tell you about.. the stuff I’ve been doing with Ollie?”

“Oh fuck.”

“And if you waaant,” she semi-sang, her hand ever so gently resuming its caresses, “I could even visit the suite a few more times. But just for Ollie.”

“Oh fuck.”

“I could do some .. I could do some even worse things with him baby. Some of the other ideas he’s had? So that when I finally do tell you..”

“S-stop!” I gasped, tearing her hand from my pants.

“Babe???”

“I want it,” I moaned. “Oh god, I want it. I’ve never wanted anything this badly in my fucking life, Morgan.”

She was taken aback by my vehemence in spite of everything. She nodded at me, her eyes wide, almost as if she was wondering what she’d gotten herself into. “O-okay baby...”

“You’ll keep coming by? Just to f..fool around with Ollie?”

She nodded slowly.

“And it’s going to be even more than I already know about? More than feeling up, french kissing you..”

She nodded. The smile was gone from her expression; her eyes were deadly serious, almost fearful. “Jacking off and cumming to me,” she murmured.

“Oh god … he’s probably already sucked on your tits…”

She just shrugged, her eyes glued to mine. A hint of a smile maybe tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“He’s probably already… already..”

“No more guessing!” she chirped softly, rising to her feet and shrugging on her coat. “And baby..” she glanced down at the starkly visible outline of my dick where it throbbed down my pantleg. “If you can.. You should try to resist, you know.. Until we can have..”

“??”

“Until we can fuck.”

It was not a term she’d used for our sex before. I couldn’t find any words to respond. I felt like I was seeing through walls, like gravity was barely holding me in place.

“I promise baby, it’s going to really blow your mind..”

Hey man, this is one of the best stories I've read here!! I'm looking forward to the sequel, thank you!

scarfolamew wrote: ↑

Tue Jun 11, 2024 10:47 pm

“It will probably take the rest of the week to for me to finish my project,” she said. “So it will be another few days before I can spend the night and have sex with you again. Can you wait that long for me to tell you about.. the stuff I’ve been doing with Ollie?”

“Oh fuck.”

I'm sure someone on OHW could help her with her project so we don't have to wait till the end of the week to hear what happens.

Ha! OHW can help Morgan by sending me their fantasies for what sort of debauchery she and Ollie should get up to together

Very well written and I have learned a new vocabulary word ... incel!

CHAPTER 7 - OLLIE'S IDEAS - part 1

It was like Morgan and I had flipped a switch in our heads. Prior to that conversation, the notion that she and Ollie might be engaged in sexual play beyond what I’d known and consented to felt like a betrayal; now, it was the explicitly stated goal. Instead of torturing myself with worry over whether or not she might be meeting up with him without my knowledge, whether she was going further with him than our discussed comfort zone allowed, I knew this to be the case.

I knew, because Morgan repeatedly promised and assured me that it was so; that she was making good on her word and ramping up the naughtiness between her and our incel friend. I begged her for details, knowing full well she’d demur. Her denial was a reward in and of itself.

I’d watched her endeavor to visit the suite every single day, to obey The Rules and continue my torment, wondering if this was even the full extent of their contact. Had she been secreting herself over during the night? Had he been absconding to engage in further dalliances elsewhere? I caught snippets of phone conversations before she’d excuse herself due to my presence, convincing myself she was scheming further with Ollie, that they couldn’t tear themselves away from one another. Or, when she clarified that she’d in fact been talking to her roommate Emily (and brandished her call history at me as proof), I anguished over the notion that she had opened up to her friend about what we’d been up to.

These thoughts all excited and terrified me in equal measure.

It was like I was becoming hooked on the reminders of my sweet Morgan’s infidelity. The contradiction between the characteristic emotional openness and intimacy we shared, and our current project of establishing her as Ollie’s plaything, never failed to make my heart pound in my chest. The jolts of adrenaline her rejections of my pleas for information provoked were addictive.

It was, in a sense, freeing. From the moment Morgan and I had met, at odds with my natural inclination towards jealousy, I’d endeavored to resist being the type of guy to control his partner and rebuke her for independence of thought and spirit. Now that we’d established it was mutually irresistible, I’d been given leave to seethe pathetically to her about my insecurities, the choice of what to share or withhold from me left entirely to her discretion.

She trickled me certain details which, rather than clarify any of my fears, intensified them to an even greater degree.

She assured me that while they hadn’t had sex, they had “done other things” that were sure to drive me absolutely insane, and which made her feel the sluttiest she’d ever felt in her life. “Slutty” was now a regular term in her self-applied vocabulary.

While we spoke over the phone, she confessed that she had filled Ollie in on this scheme of ours, this perverse plot to withhold both sex and knowledge from me while they explored each other.

“It might have been a mistake, Tyler,” she groaned. “He’s using it against me. To talk me into stuff, saying how we wouldn’t want to disappoint you and all that..”

“Jesus, Morgan!”

“I’m soooo glad I told him, though,” she whimpered.

“Are you touching yourself to this?!”

“Yes!” she cried. “Fuck Tyler, like, so many times a day now.”

“...In front of Ollie?” I murmured, fearing the answer but also somehow hoping she’d validate my fears.

Her silence all but confirmed it was so.

“I’m wet and turned on twenty four seven,” she went on. “He’s turning me into a girl who thinks with her pussy.”

“Twenty four seven..” I repeated. “Like, how often have you even met up with him, though? You’ve only been over once each day..”

“It’s been more than that,” she admitted softly. “I’ve come over a few times when you weren’t even there.”

“Seriously?!”

“Mmhmm. And he visited me in my dorm a couple times, too.”

My fears were proving correct, and yet I did nothing to discourage these escalations. In fact, in a subsequent talk when she attempted to get serious and check in with me again for reassurance I was okay with the path we were heading down, I asked her to stop doing so. The guardrails were making it less real, less blisteringly intense.

She stared deeply into my eyes, assessing the sincerity of my commitment. Whatever she saw made her swoon. “I fucking love you, Tyler,” she gushed. “Don’t you ever forget it.”

—

Knowing the inner workings of Morgan and my shameful kink had been exposed to him, facing Ollie around our shared home felt all the more humiliating. It was somewhat of a blessing that, rather shockingly, the warmth and cordiality which had recently arisen between us seem to once again vanish as the pendulum swung back towards his moody, reclusive affect. It meant, at least, that our confrontations were few.

I speculated that my mind was perhaps playing tricks on me. Given the near hallucinatory nature my life in general had suddenly evolved, could I perhaps be inaccurately assessing his behavior? But my diagnosis was confirmed when, in a moment of lucidity during which I was finally able to catch up on some schoolwork, I overheard Andrew and Bobby complaining about it in the common room.

“I thought he was being more normal,” noted Bobby. “But now it’s, like, the worst it's ever been.”

“He’s such a fucking dick, man,” Andrew returned. “And after Morgan and Tyler have gone so far out of their way to include him socially.”

“Well, maybe that’s why. Maybe he feels like they’re rubbing their relationship in his face or something. Who knows how that kid’s mind works.”

Could this possibly be the case, I wondered? Was Ollie somehow finding cause to resent Morgan and I, even as my girlfriend was lavishing sexual attention upon him that was completely unprecedented in his life’s experience?

Andrew and Bobby were able to speak frankly on the matter because Ollie was, for once, not in his room to possibly overhear. I had a good suspicion of what had drawn him outdoors. It took vulcan-like discipline of the psyche to put it from mind and resume my studies.

I knew Friday to be the deadline for Morgan’s project. As the day approached, my anxiety rose to a point just below panic, both dreading and desperately craving the revelations she might have in store for me. If indeed she was even able to meet the deadline; despite her claim that we needed to wait until she completed it for the promised tell-all sex session, she clearly was putting aside time for numerous trysts with my antisocial housemate.

—

I awoke after a fitful sleep, the day finally having arrived. It was too early to begin pestering Morgan for a timeframe of when we might get down to the business at hand, so I let my mind dance along the tightrope, teetering between paranoia and desire.

It took no time at all until I was edging on the verge of orgasm. I’d followed Morgan’s suggestion and somehow managed to refrain from masturbating to completion since this latest adventure began several days before, and I was at the point where I was leaking copious amount of precum over my fingers within moments of reaching for my dick. My mental walls were blasted completely open; there wasn’t a depraved thought I could conjure that failed to make me tremble with lust.

I allowed my imagination to run free with speculation on Morgan’s misdeeds that would so soon be revealed to me. Ugh, what if she’s already here? I cried to myself. In Ollie’s bed with him, having spent the night… I had to unhand myself lest I careen over the edge.

A moment later, I bolted upright in panic. There was no way such a thing could be true, I knew, but nonetheless a terrible need within me propelled me to my feet and had me marching across our hall a moment later, like a Lovecraftian protagonist seeking the very knowledge that was sure to doom him to madness. Ollie’s door was closed; could my Morgan possibly be within?

“You’re out of control,” I muttered to myself. I dialed Morgan’s number, bracing myself for her ringtone to sound from within his chamber.

I felt my bearings return when it did not. She picked up after several rings. “Babe, it’s so early,” she moaned in a just-awoken voice.

I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Sorry, just… impatient I guess.”

“Mmmmm,” she groaned pleasantly. “Good, that’s how I want you.”

Fuck, that’s hot. “Did you finish your project!”

“Yep!”

“So we… can we…?”

“You should try to get some more sleep,” she said quietly, her voice thick with implication. “I have quite the night planned for you!”

Gulp. My treacherous penis ached despite the hollowness in the pit of my stomach.

Sleep was out of the question, but pacing relentlessly seemed appealing. I got dressed and made use of our scenic campus to this end, earbuds equipped, trying to distract myself with motion and music. With little success; every lyric seemed an oblique reference to my situation.

An hour later, Morgan called me to meet her for breakfast. We sat side by side, not saying much. There was an unbelievable magnetism between us; without needing to coordinate verbally, we kept our bodies in constant contact with one another, knees angled toward each other, shoulder to shoulder, hands stealing into one another’s lap under the table.

Morgan glanced at her phone, having received a notification. I felt her tense up slightly. “That’s Ollie letting me know Andrew and Bobby left,” she explained softly. “Let’s go back to the suite.”

My pulse rate immediately skyrocketed. “Already?!” I squeaked. “I thought you said, uh, it was going to be tonight?”

She nodded, brow furrowed. “Yeah, but I want to discuss something first with you both.”

“???”

“Don’t worry, Tyler! Everything is going to be good, I promise.”

Holding hands was insufficient for the degree of proximity we both craved, and we somewhat awkwardly made our way back to the suite with my arm around her waist, hers around my shoulder. Delving under her shirt to feel her bare waist, her skin like electricity to me; I hoped my erection wasn’t too obvious to any unfortunate bystanders.

I was experiencing near-tunnel vision when we arrived. “Morgan, Morgan,” I breathed, trying to perform a confident playfulness that was entirely postured. “What could you possibly have up your sleeve?”

“It’s just about our plans for tonight!” she squeaked, obviously as nervous as I. “Come on!”

The suite was indeed empty save for Ollie, whose presence was evidenced by the music playing from behind his closed door.

“Should we knock?” I asked.

Morgan nodded, her cheeks flush with anticipation. “But Tyler, wait!”

She faced me square on, glaring. Took my hand and fed it down the front of her sweatpants.

She was so wet I could scarcely believe it hadn’t soaked through her garments.

“Oh fuck, Morgan,” I moaned, but she wasn’t done. She brought my hand to her mouth and fastidiously cleaned herself off of my fingers, beginning to pant slightly as she did so, cheeks blazing.

I almost doubled over and ejaculated in my pants. A few short days ago, Morgan had not been the type of girl to taste herself. What in heaven’s name was I in for? While my mind reeled, she strode a few paces away to knock on Ollie’s door.

Ollie emerged, seeming a bit put out that he was faced with whatever conversation Morgan had in mind.

“Hey, dude,” he muttered, not meeting my eye.

“Hey,” I returned.

“Okay boys,” Morgan said, seizing our hands. “Come and let’s sit.”

Once she’d arranged us on either side of her on the sofa, she launched into it.

“Sooooo,” she said. “There’s that party tonight.”

My eyebrow raised. There was, indeed, a kegger planned on campus. I hadn’t expected it to figure into whatever plans had been made.

“God dammit,” moaned Ollie.

“And all three of us are going to go!” she went on. Ollie rolled his eyes ostentatiously before burying his face in his palms.

“I mean, I’m down,” I said. “But… does this have to do with..?”

“I really don’t want to go,” Ollie protested, ignoring me.

“The three of us are going to go,” Morgan repeated. She took a breath. “So Tyler, as you know, Ollie and I have been.. Fooling around.”

Thump, thump. Ollie kept his face in his hands.

“And,” she blushed, charging ahead, “I think it won’t be … giving too much away to point out that it’s been really exciting. I mean Tyler, you saw how it went when we were, uh, kissing by the fire?”

“Yeah,” I forced out. Thank goodness I hadn’t climaxed in days, or the awkwardness of this exchange would have been the end of me.

“And Ollie, I hope you don’t mind me saying that I think you’ve been getting a lot more confident, like, with my body.”

My heart continued pounding while Ollie finally peeked out from between his hands and managed a slight grin.

“That’s… good,” I found myself saying, the humiliation for having uttered it slamming into me like a truck.

Morgan squeezed my hand. “So anyway, what I want is to get this all out in the open between us. So it’s something that we can just talk about, while we all hang out together, without it being so tense and awkward. Now, Ollie…” She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “You know that tonight I’m going to have sex with my boyfriend and tell him all about the stuff I’ve been doing with you…”

The smile left his face, his expression turning sour. “I guess?” he said bitterly.

“Come on man,” I spoke up. “It’s a problem for my girlfriend and I to have sex?”

“Whatever, dude,” he scowled.

“See, this is what I mean,” Morgan said. “Ollie, I think it’s perfectly understandable that you’re… jealous of me and Tyler after you and I have been spending all this time being .. intimate together.”

Jesus, Morgan.

“I’m not fucking jealous,” Ollie whined.

“... but so, this is why I want us to all go to this party together.”

Her words hung in the air for a bit.

“What do you mean, exactly?” I ventured.

“Weellllll,” she said, curling a lock of hair nervously around her finger. “Two reasons. For one thing, like I said I'd hate to think the .. stuff we’ve been getting into is getting in the way of the three of us being friends. So it’s important to me that we all hang out together.”

Ollie looked pretty miserable at the prospect.

“It’s like, a requirement if you want to keep doing sexual things with me, Ollie,” Morgan said in a honeyed voice. “It’s fucking mandatory.”

“What’s the other reason?” I prompted, trying to grapple with how casually Morgan now referred to her and Ollie being sexual with one another.

“Well, I think Ollie needs to be more social and show what an eligible bachelor he is!”

“That’s so fucking patronizing,” he complained.

“I’m sorry if it’s patronizing,” she continued insistently. “I don’t mean it to be. But I think if you come out with us, and hang out around a group of people, it will make other women more likely to look at you as, like, an option!”

“How so?” he challenged.

“It’s how our minds work,” she said. “When we see that other girls are comfortable with a guy, it’s a signal that he’s, like, okay. Trustworthy.”

“Hmmph. But you’re not with me. Everybody knows you’re with Tyler.”

“But I don’t even mean like, boyfriend and girlfriend. Just hanging out in a friend group even. And dancing, especially.”

There was a lengthy silence during which Ollie did his best to appear unhappy and unconvinced. “I don’t wanna go,” he finally said.

“Pleeeaaase, Ollie? It’s really important to me. I want you and Tyler to take turns dancing with me at this party. We can all get more comfortable with each other, and all the other cute girls will see how comfortable and confident you’re getting with a lady.”

“I don’t care about those girls,” Ollie said. “None of them are as cute as you anyway.”

She’s taken, asshole, I fumed. But Morgan had hummed her appreciation at the remark; I kept silent and let her continue the negotiation.

She twisted her body away from me and towards him. “If you’re subtle about it,” she murmured seductively, putting her arms around his neck. “You can touch my butt a little while we’re dancing.”

Ollie’s eyes danced up his forehead. “Tyler’s not going to be mad if I’m touching you like that in public?”

Morgan shrugged. “It should be okay if you’re not too obvious about it,” she suggested. “Right, Tyler?”

Ollie and Morgan, dancing in public. I considered the notion. His fingers grazing her buttocks.

The honest truth was that it made me feel incredibly jealous; humiliated, even. But I reasoned that compared to everything I’d consented to privately, this would be a strange place to suddenly draw the line.

Plus, I really didn’t want to think of myself as the sort of possessive dickhead who tried to control their girlfriend to the point where he tried to prohibit something as innocent as dancing, and the incidental bodily contact that went along with it. If Morgan wasn’t embarrassed to be seen dancing with Ollie in public and even get mildly felt up, why should I be embarrassed on her behalf, or my own?

“She’s right, Ollie,” I said, trying to believe my words as I uttered them. “This will be a positive experience. And regardless, it’s what Morgan wants. Part of being involved with a girl is you gotta make some compromises for them, you know?”

“FUCK. Fine, guys. Jesus christ. But don’t get mad if, like, I don’t fondle your ass exactly the way I’m supposed to or something.”

“Weeelllll,” Morgan moaned, “you know the rules…” She leaned forward and suddenly before my eyes, she’d engaged Ollie in a wet, longing open-mouthed kiss. “Can we go to your room and you can try and get the ass fondling out of your system?”

I watched him walk her into his bedroom, guiding her with his hand on the small of her back. A moment after the door shut, the volume of the music increased, obscuring any detail of what might be transpiring.

—

Like each previous time she’d visited him over the week, my insides refused to stop doing cartwheels for the duration – a full thirty minutes, in this instance.

“It looks so fucking cute, Morgan,” I’d heard Ollie raving at one point, loudly enough to be heard over the music. “The way it peeks out the bottom of your skimpy little panties? Fuck.” I think I knew exactly which panties she was modeling for him and it killed me to think he’d gotten to see.

Not that she probably kept them on for long, I considered, palms sweating.

She had barely paused to check in on me on her way out, looking tickled but abashed as she did so. Smiling knowingly and apologetically at me, shaking her head and pushing a finger to my lips when I spoke up to pester her for any shard of insight into what she had just gotten up to with him.

I was a wreck. Though I restrained myself, I desperately wanted to masturbate to completion to the sparse revelations she’d given me. Or even better, to do so while witnessing Ollie indulging in the groping of Morgan’s asscheeks – her bare asscheeks, it was likely – as she’d invited him to do while they shut themselves in his room. Along with who knows what else.

Seeing them kiss again had also been revelatory. The eagerness and lust Morgan had expressed as she leaned forward to make out with him, the obvious practiced familiarity they’d developed with one another. The way their tongues instantly stole into each other’s mouths, their mutual need for it perfectly synchronized. Considering it made me short of breath.

What was the matter with me, that I was so incredibly turned on by just the thought of such a thing? Seeing it up close, sober, in the light of day was nearly enough to make me blow ropes without the need to touch myself.

And, insanely, there was more. Kissing was promised to be just the tip of the iceberg; Morgan had done things with Ollie I didn’t even know about yet, and as anxious as I was, I also had to admit that I could not fucking wait for her to tell me. There was no way I was going to last for any substantial amount of time buried in Morgan’s now perpetually drenched cunt while she filled me in on whatever details she had in store.

CHAPTER 7 - OLLIE'S IDEAS - part 2

Despite my self-coaching, my face burned with shame as I watched Morgan and Ollie dance.

She’d taken his hands from her ass and moved them to her lower back a number of times, but by this point it seemed she’d given up and was just resigned to the fact that he was going to be clutching each of her cheeks.

I’d almost been saved by the anonymity of the party’s crowd, flashing lights, blasting music. Almost.

“I’ll fucking kill him for you, if you want,” Bobby intoned venomously.

I shrugged helplessly. “Morgan’s a big girl, she can handle herself.”

“She’s tried to get him to stop so many times, it’s like at the point where she either has to make a huge scene or just let him.”

I felt a deep gratitude that Bobby was taking such a charitable interpretation of Morgan’s behavior. And mine, since I clearly wasn’t intervening to stop the public groping.

“I don’t think he’s ever gotten to dance with a girl before,” I speculated. “Not surprised he’s taking as much advantage as he can.”

“It’s so fucking disrespectful, man. I’m sorry.”

“We’ll be okay,” I assured. “Man, can you do me a favor and not mention this shit to Andrew?” A small blessing, Andrew wasn’t in evidence at tonight’s festivities.

“Of course, dude. Unless you change your mind, in which case I’ll enlist his help murdering the shithead for you.”

Morgan had her back to Ollie now, swaying to the beat. She was clutching his hands at her exposed belly. If she hadn’t been, I wonder if he’d be straight up seizing handfuls of her luscious tits right in front of everybody. Her outfit was scandalously hot, for Morgan. A midriff-baring halter top, a skirt short enough that her ass cheeks threatened to peek out from the bottom. She’d said earlier she needed a bit of time to get ready for the party, and the makeup and attire attested to time well spent. I hadn’t even known such clothes were in her possession. My dick pulsed in appreciation despite the angst.

“You empty, man?” Bobby asked, gesturing with his beerless cup.

“Yeah. Can you fill me up? I feel like I shouldn’t, like, abandon her..”

“Of course, bro.” He ruffled my hair affectionately and left to queue up for the keg.

Whatever Ollie whispered in Morgan’s ear caused her eyes to snap open wide, followed by a beaming smile. She whispered something back and Ollie scowled.

Another girl had ended up winning Bobby’s favor over the course of the night, and he made a point of checking in with me before he left the party to accompany her to her room. The difference in etiquette and sensitivity between my suitemates couldn’t have been more pronounced.

I got to dance with Morgan as well, of course, while Ollie glowered from the sidelines. She was getting quite drunk, and in my opinion getting taken advantage of as Bobby had observed; nonetheless I restrained myself from questioning her well-being in an overly-protective manner.

“Are you enjoying your night, my love?” I asked instead.

She answered with a passionate kiss. “I know it’s just dancing,” she gushed, “but it feels so naughty how I’m getting passed around by you two. And with everybody watching!”

I supposed Ollie’s forwardness with her the ass fondling contributed to the naughtiness she seemed so enthusiastic over, so I resisted commenting about it lest I come off like a wet blanket.

Instead I decided to enjoy a feel of her myself. More respectfully, of course, as was my style. Just letting my fingertips graze the top of her butt where it began to slope away from her lower back.

“Mmmm, at least one of my men knows how to treat a lady,” she moaned into my ear. I ached at her phrasing, how it put Ollie and I on the same level.

I, too, was pretty drunk by the time we left. Morgan was bubbly and ecstatic, marching Ollie and I back to the suite, arm linked with each of us. Prancing, more like.

“I’m soooo worked up!” she announced. “Getting shared back and forth at the party by two men. What’s a lady to do!”

It’s almost time, my brain screamed at me. Morgan’s gonna have sex with me and tell me… tell me…

“Sooooo,” sang Morgan, leaning away from me and into Ollie. “Do you want to tell Tyler the plan, or should I?”

What the fuck?!

“You tell him,” Ollie muttered. “You’re lucky I’m even agreeing to this shit in the first place.”

“So Tyler,” Morgan said leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. “We thought maybe it would even more exciting if-”

“You thought it would be,” corrected Ollie. “I think it’s fucking embarrassing.”

“If we just showed you instead.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, effectively halting the two of them since we were all linked together by Morgan.

“Sh… show me..?”

“All the naughty things I’ve been doing with Ollie,” her voice lilted.

“You guys are fuckin’ freaks,” Ollie disparaged. “Just like, absolutely sick in the head.”

“Oh shush, you love it Ollie.” Morgan favored his cheek with a kiss as well.

This prompted Ollie to turn towards her and kiss her back; before I knew it Morgan had slipped her hand from mine to spin into Ollie’s embrace, moaning emphatically as the two began french kissing right there in the open, where anybody could see.

“What the fuck guys,” I hissed. “Somebody’s gonna see you!”

Morgan mercifully broke away from him. The two of them looked at each other sheepishly for a few tense moments.

“Bad Ollie!” she finally giggled.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands off me,” he boasted haughtily.

I was, it seemed, in deep shit. We thankfully made it inside without further incident. Andrew was also gone; perhaps, like Bobby, he and some lucky lady were making one another’s dreams come true.

“So you guys,” I sputtered, “you guys are gonna..” What about Morgan and I having sex? Why had the plan changed? What the fuck was happening?

Morgan advanced on me, a predatory look in her eyes. “Kiss me, baby,” she commanded.

I did, my arms around her waist to pull her against me tight. She was far more aggressive with her tongue than I was accustomed.

“Feel me down there…” she whispered, her eyes big and almost fearful-like. I reached under her skirt and my fingers instantly got soaked even through her panties. “Make me taste myself…” she moaned, bringing my hand to her mouth as she’d done earlier in the day.

“Nasty, guys,” Ollie complained. “I don’t need to see this shit.”

“Your turn next,” Morgan replied, turning from me and flinging her arms around him.

He’s been fingering her??

“Can we at least to go one of the rooms?!” I protested. “What if one of the guys comes home?”

Morgan legitimately moaned as if I’d proposed something irresistably erotic, but Ollie was thankfully on my side here. “Jesus, Morgan, come on. It’s bad enough I have to do this in front of Tyler.”

“Okay, okay! But you need to be touching me already.”

Morgan strode before Ollie towards his room, him close behind, both hands attached to her ass. I trotted after them, my body on autopilot.

“You .. can .. sit .. mmph! … in Ollie’s chair,” Morgan moaned in between slurping on Ollie’s tongue extravagantly.

As usual, his room was a pigsty. I’d caught glimpses but hadn’t taken in the details: the trashcan full to the brim with crumpled up tissue, the nearly-empty soda and beer cans claiming all the free real-estate at his desk.

I did as instructed and watched as they dove back into their makeout session, trying to understand what it was about sharing her body with Ollie that was so exciting to Morgan and (I had to acknowledge at this point) myself.

“It’s so awkward that he’s, like, sitting right there,” protested Ollie, pulling back from Morgan’s lips.

Morgan shrugged guiltily. “But I promised all week he could find about… you know. And plus it really turns me on that my boyfriend is watching you have your way with me.”

“I thought messing around with me turned you on on its own,” he whined to her.

She made her eyes go wide and nodded her emphatic agreement, her face inches from him. “It does, Ollie. It really does. But I’m also really excited to show Tyler. Should we start with my top?”

This is happening, this is actually happening, I admitted to myself as Ollie helped her shimmy out of the tight-fitting halter top. He now needed only one hand to deftly unclasp her bra, the same one she’d worn on the night of the bonfire. That she’d worn for us, for him.

He tore it off of her and flung it over his shoulder, leaving my Morgan topless before him, looking shockingly vulnerable, her body on offer for him.

Now that her breasts were exposed, Ollie immediately seemed far less concerned about my proximity. He moaned hungrily and dove in, pawing at her breasts, slurping noisily at her nipples. Biting them, I noted with disbelief and some concern. But Morgan was moaning delightedly in response. Panting, even.

“You guessed right, Tyler,” she cried. “He loves sucking my tits. He did it the first time I visited him in his room. He does it every time I play with him.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, grabbing her face and sticking his tongue down her throat once again.

She scrambled onto his lap, straddling him, lost to his kisses. “Please,” she moaned. “I need your hands on my ass, Ollie.” He had her skirt hiked up to her waist in no time, her ass functionally bare in her tiny thong. Kneading her cheeks greedily as she rocked against him. Humping him.

“What the fuck, guys,” I muttered in disbelief. Seemingly provoked by my utterance, Ollie dug in even more aggressively, yanking her thong to the side. Morgan’s asshole and vagina suddenly visible and present in the room with us, Ollie’s fingers barely missing her holes as he indulged. Then, incidentally grazing them, his fingers passing over the delicately wrinkled flesh around her butthole. Passing over her labia, moisture visibly splashing from her pussy as he did so.

Was she even aware of these transgressions, or was she so lost to her excitement that it was all a blur of stimulation to her? She jerked her head over her shoulder to look at me guiltily, apologetically. “I’ve been getting naked for him, Tyler,” she confessed. “Just like we fantasized about?”

I’m not sure why Ollie needed to know that I had fantasized about this as well, but it seemed petty to quibble while he had her butthole exposed obscenely before my eyes, his fingers gripping its edges from both sides, stretching it into a tiny winking oval.

“Ollie!” Morgan finally protested. “I told you not to be so rough back there!”

My eyes bulged uncomprehendingly. Although I’d admired Morgan’s backdoor, I’d never had the courage to interact with it by touch. It hadn’t even occurred to me such a thing might be allowed. “He’s been… You’ve been letting him..?”

Morgan nodded into Ollie’s shoulder, not meeting my gaze. “The second time I visited his room for The Rules, I got completely naked,” she muttered abashedly while Ollie continued pawing at her ass with one hand, his other squeezing her tits and bringing them to his mouth one at a time. “He wanted to look at me everywhere up close..”

“Fuck, Morgan,” I whimpered.

“And he just started touching me all over..” The thought excited her for him anew, and, fingers in Ollie’s hair, she pulled his face up to meet hers. Her eyes stayed open while she kissed him, like she craved the visual reminder of just who she was kissing. “So greedy, Ollie,” she breathed, almost with admiration.

She looked back at me. “Wanna see what we did?”

When I couldn’t move or respond for a few beats, Ollie looked expectantly towards me as well. Fuck. There was nowhere to hide; I needed to see, and Ollie would know my need.

“Please show me,” I breathed, my face burning even hotter.

Morgan moaned deeply at my request, shuffling on her knees to turn herself in a circle and face me. Ollie grabbed her tits from behind and pulled her back into him, pinching at her nipples. Twisting them. Morgan gasped and panted at his touch.

“Come onnnn,” she pleaded. “Down there…”

Ollie spared one hand to yank at her panties, tugging them down her hips. She’d trimmed her pussy nearly bare, leaving only a small landing strip of pubic hair. I had never seen her nether region presented like so; even earlier that day, when she’d put my hand down her pants, she’d had her characteristic bush. She’s more naked down there at this moment for Ollie than she’s ever been for me. Had she done it at his behest?!

My view of her shockingly naked pussy was blocked a moment later by Ollie’s hand as he gripped her between her legs, basically seizing her cunt, causing her to cry out at the suddenness and forcefulness of his movement. “Ollie!” she protested. “Please be gentle! Let me get them.. Get them off..”

She finished what he’d started, pushing her thong down to her knees, then raising them one at a time to rid herself of her last scrap of clothing. Freeing her to part her thighs, which she did while giving me a look that nearly broke me. It was a look that recalled her profound bashfulness the first time she’d ever undressed for me, only now it was because she was opening her legs so that Ollie could better access her pussy and resume his assault.

Ollie is shoving fingers into Morgan. Into my beloved Morgan’s vagina. The vagina she had so sweetly and innocently bared for me, conjuring her reserves of courage to do so. And here Ollie was just pumping his fingers into her without any regard for her comfort, her recent plea for gentleness apparently ignored. Abusing my Morgan’s delicate, sensitive pussy before my eyes.

“Morgan..” I began, just needing some acknowledgment to pass between us, to be reminded she was connected to me despite how far we’d let things with Ollie develop. But her eyes fluttered shut as Ollie brought his hand to her mouth, pushing his fingers between her lips and rubbing her cream around her face as she ground her bare ass into his crotch.

To my absolute disbelief, her hips began to buck in orgasm when Ollie spoke, unconcerned with her climax. “He has to leave for the rest of it,” he said. “There’s zero chance I’m getting my dick out in front of him.”

There was equally little chance, I thought, that I’d let this chubby incel fuck banish me from seeing what he’d turned my sweet Morgan into. “Quit being a pussy,” I retorted, more timidly than I’d intended, “and-”

“Tyler, please,” she interrupted urgently, lapping at herself with abandon off Ollie’s fingers. “I- ..we just need a minute.”

“Morgan,” I breathed, trying to make her hear the need in my voice.

“I’ll come to you soon baby.” Her tone was flat and free of reassurance or apology. She spared no look to gauge the distress I wore on my face.

“Soon,” I repeated, not sure if she heard me. She was moving Ollie’s free hand down to the river between her legs while she rubbed her face and tongue into what remained of her on his palm, lost to me for the moment.

—

My cheeks burned as I shut the door behind me, my motions unacknowledged. I immediately regretted shutting it; why hadn’t I left it open a crack? I instantly wished I could be back in there, anonymously, a fly on the wall to witness what was about to transpire.

I had expected and braced myself for her total nudity, for the petting to be more involved and brazen than it had been by the bonfire a week prior. But Ollie bringing Morgan to orgasm was a punch to the gut. It had taken me months for her and I to figure out how to make her cum.

Of course, we had been talking about Ollie when she’d had her first climax with me. Why does he turn her on so much?! I gulped.

I couldn’t hear what Ollie muttered, but Morgan responded, “I told you Ollie, no sex.”

More muttering. I pressed my ear to the door as stealthily as I could, praying our other suitemates remained absent.

“Oral sex counts as sex! Plus, don’t you think it’s hot when I..” the rest of her utterance was muffled, as if she had something in her mouth.

So she does have some boundaries, I thought ruefully. But what the fuck were they doing? My imagination ran wild as I decided to throw caution to the wind and unzip; fondling myself through my pants was no longer cutting it. I couldn’t make out any words for a few minutes as I stroked to the thought of how Ollie might be further enjoying Morgan’s eagerness.

More muttering from Ollie; words of protest. I heard “too close.”

“Come on, you have to finish,” my girlfriend moaned. “Tyler’s waiting for me!”

Ollie said something about “a few more minutes” and I could just make out Morgan suggesting something in a low, sultry tone.

“Not on your tits,” Ollie negotiated. “On your face.”

The ask was obvious despite the fragmented exchange. I held my breath, dying to hear Morgan’s disposition on this request.

“O-okay,” she uttered in a murmur I could barely hear.

“And you have to keep your mouth open this time,” he emphasized.

Silence from Morgan. But in my mind’s eye she was submissively doing as he commanded. I had to stop stroking myself abruptly, to keep from blowing ropes all over Ollie’s door.

The agonizing silence continued until I heard Ollie begin cursing, signaling his release. I took this as my queue to abandon my station at their door, not wanting to be caught perving on them so pathetically, dick in hand. However, it was several long anxiety-ridden minutes before Morgan slipped into my room, still completely naked, clutching her clothes in a bundle at her belly.

It was mostly dark; on its lowest setting, my desklamp illuminated her expression, cast down towards the ground and unwilling to meet my eye.

“Tyler…”

“Did you taste his cum?” I blurted.

She hesitated, then nodded, wringing her clothes nervously in her hands.

“He gave you an orgasm,” I noted as well.

She affirmed this too, still unable to make eye contact.

The moment grew tense.

“Will you please have sex with me, Morgan?” I finally forced out, terrified beyond measure that she might reject me.

“Yes.. of course, Tyler,” she sighed in relief, sliding into bed with me. “I thought maybe you hated me.”

“Never,” I assured. “I love you no matter what.”

“Even though I’m a fucking whore?” she intoned sorrowfully as she slipped into my arms, face to face with me in my bed. I ran a finger along her cheek under the guise of reassuring her but also looking for evidence of Ollie’s load; it seemed she’d cleaned herself up, though.

As always, the desire to reassure melted away any reprimands I might have voiced. “Baby, you’re not,” I soothed, kissing her.

“Ollie sure thinks I am,” she murmured.

“Morgan, you’ve had sex with three guys in your entire life,” I reminded her. “And been touched some by a fourth. If anything you’re kind of a prude.”

She playfully smacked my arm. “‘Touched some.’ That’s rather generous of you after you saw him smearing my.. myself all over me. And all that in front of my loyal boyfriend.”

The articulation of it made my dick throb dangerously. “Morgan, I’m not gonna lie, it was a lot,” I said. “But I’m so fucking turned on right now I’m practically seeing through walls. If I don’t get my dick in you in the next few minutes, I don’t think we’ll have a chance.”

We were silent for a few moments as she settled on top of me, guiding me into her. She needed no effort to acclimate to the penetration, such was the extent of her body’s arousal.

Upon reflecting how it had been Ollie who caused her to become this wet and open for sex, I immediately had to seize her hips and hold her still to keep orgasm at bay.

“Tyler!” she marveled. “Already?”

“I haven’t touched myself all week, like you said.”

“Mmmmm. Good boy.”

“Plus what I just saw… fuck. It was so fucking hot, Morgan.”

“It didn’t make you too jealous?”

“It made me the most jealous I’ve ever been in my life,” I fumed. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”


“There’s something wrong with me too,” she gushed, leaning forward and bringing us face to face. “Your oafish housemate turns me on so fucking much, Tyler.”

I moaned in response to this acknowledgement and slipped my tongue into her mouth. There was an unfamiliar taste, unmistakeable, and the sheer depravity of knowing what it was I tasted almost sent me over the edge once again.

“Is that why,” I gasped. “Is that why you’re letting him do things to you that you’ve never done with me?”

She shrugged.

“Is it?!”

“Yes, baby,” she hissed. “But.. but also..”

“Tell me Morgan, please,” I begged.

“He just.. makes me? Like, it doesn’t occur to him to be respectful, he just – ah! – just grabs me so rough and does what he wants.”

Slowing down once again. “You could tell him ‘no’,” I murmured. “You don’t have to cave in to his every demand.”

She nodded, shutting her eyes. “I don’t know why it’s so hard to, though. Like even though I know I should, it’s like that makes it even more tempting for me not to.”

“I heard you turn him down for oral,” I pointed out.

She nodded. “But I still put my mouth on him.”

“??!??!”

“Like, over his clothes? I’ve been doing it for the last three days. Massaging his .. his fat dick with my mouth. He gets so excited Tyler, it makes him go crazy for me.”

“Fuck.”

“He loves cumming on me,” she went on. “He’s obsessed with it.”

“Jesus, Morgan.”

“On my tits, on my belly, on my feet, on my ass…”

“Unnnnfh.”

“I spread myself open back there so he could cum, like, specifically on my asshole, Tyler!”

“Oh … my … fucking … god…”

“He keeps asking me to spread my pussy open so he can cum into it.”

“!!!!”

“I really want to let him…”

It was either pull out of her or lose my nut, so I pulled out and hopped off the bed. Pacing back and forth, my wet dick bobbing in front of me, droplets of Morgan’s cream sprinkling off it.

“I think you’re probably going to,” I told her. She flopped onto her back and started fingering herself, not disputing my statement. She wasn’t engaged in the usual circular motions on her clit; instead, it was a squelching sound of her plunging a couple fingers into herself.

“What else did he make you do?” I asked, keeping my voice surprisingly even despite the fireworks going off in my loins. I was on a mission. “You’re not allowed to cum until you finish telling me.”

“Other than drink his cum just now?” she grinned impishly at me.

“Fuck! Was that the first time?”

She nodded.

“Was it nasty?”

She nodded.

“Are you going to do it again??”

She made her eyes bulge playfully and nodded, slowing down her movements. Edging herself.

“What else? What fucking else Morgan?!”

“He has so many ideas for things he wants me to do, Tyler,” she said. “He must watch a lot more porn than you or something. I don’t know where he gets all this stuff.”

“Yeah, I mean obviously!”

“I’ve touched his dick..”

“I fucking knew it.”

“He gets himself to the point where he’s about to cum and then he makes me hold it and angle it towards my body. So I’m the one making him cum on my tits or in my mouth.”

“That’s so… so slutty Morgan,” I dared to point out. “What else? What else, what else?!”

She thought for a moment and then broke eye contact with me. “I finished my project on Wednesday…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’ve kept betraying you with Ollie for two more days because we thought it would be hot as fuck..”

“Jesus. Fuck.”

“He convinced me to keep it a secret from you. That we could build up more material for you fap to?”

“Holy shit…”

“Are you glad I did?”

“Yes??”

“He wants me to deny you this pussy. Not let you see me naked. All sorts of twisted shit.”

“I’ll fucking kill him, Morgan!” I raved.

She laughed. “I know! I’m just trying to paint the full picture of all the sorts of stuff he comes up with.”

“Morgan you had better not-”

“Come back on top of me and fuck me more Tyler,” she hissed.

I did as she asked and fucked her real slow. Agonizing strokes where I savored every inch of her creamy folds.

“Do you forgive your girlfriend for being a slut?” she mewled into my ear.

“I should.. I should be thanking you…”

“Can I keep being one? It’s… it’s going to help teach Ollie how to treat girls..” She broke into a grin. I snorted at how absurd the notion was becoming. We were teaching him something, alright.

“You have to keep being one,” I commanded. My penis was utterly in charge of me at this point.

She bit her lips and nodded in acquiescence. “Okay Tyler.” She spoke as if it were a matter of life and death. “I promise I will.”

“Morgan, I can’t hold it back anymore.”

“Me neither, I’m so close...”

“You gonna cum on this dick like you came on Ollie’s fingers earlier?” I taunted.

Her head jerked around as she nodded frantically. “Tell me, Tyler!” she implored. “What slutty things should I do?!”

Did she even need me to tell her? It was so fucking obvious. I began pounding her as fiercely as I could, sending myself over the point of no control.

“His dick,” I decreed. Maybe I would come to regret giving voice to the demon in my head but nothing on earth was going to stop me in this moment. “You have to suck his dick, Morgan. You’re lucky I don’t send you back in there right now-”

It was the first time we had managed to orgasm together, the climax slamming into us simultaneously. Her hips bucked against me savagely as she howled her agreement.

Fabulous writing.
Maybe if she stays overnight she can slip into Ollie’s room first thing tomorrow morning and suck his dick. It has to be done, and soon, her pretty mouth filled with that fat hairy dick. Tyler urgently needs it to happen.
Up to you, though.

More love from me, Scarf. I appreciate your leisurely pace. Must be difficult to sustain with all these hot bits. Wondering: do you have the end in mind or are you discovering as you/ your characters proceed?

Thanks folks, really appreciate the warm feedback!

Bovary2012, I do have the end in mind, though I will say that so far things have not gone according to my outline. I had planned for the corruption to move quite a bit farther by this point, but it didn't feel true to the characters when I wrote it out so I adjusted. That said, I'm still determined to get there eventually. I just hope my audience is as gutterminded as I am, because it ain't gonna be vanilla

Thanks, Scarf. I like What you're doing with the characters, allowing them some time to adjust before diving deeper. It sure suits my kink! I appreciate your efforts and look forward to reading more about Tyler, Morgan and Ollie.

Every so often a real gem appears on this site and this is one. A great story and so well written. Looking forward to reading more. Thank you.

CHAPTER 8 - THE GIRLFRIEND EXPERIENCE - Part 1

“I can’t believe I’m actually going to put Ollie’s dick in my mouth,” deadpanned Morgan for what seemed like the hundredth time.

It was later that same night; she was prone on her belly while I slid into her. Prior to this it had been rare for us to go more than once in a row, but this was the fourth time we were having sex in so many hours.

“But you are going to,” I insisted. “It’s what a slutty girl like you would do.”

“I don’t even really suck my boyfriend’s dick…”

“Your boyfriend actually respects you as more than just a sexual object,” I pointed out.

Now that I’d dumped three loads into her, I finally had the capacity to stroke in and out at a steady rhythm without fear of losing it. We were both quite sore where our bodies connected, but the filthy thoughts we were sharing compelled us to continue.

Plus, Morgan’s pussy was a complete mess of both of our fluids, which helped.

“Should it really be a Rule? That blowjobs are exclusively for Ollie?”

I groaned in torment. “Should it even be up to me? Maybe we should let Ollie decide.”

“You know what he’ll decide.”

“It’s your body, Morgan. You can choose who has say over it, if that’s what turns you on.”

“It turns me on a lot.”

It was nearly four in the morning; our conversation had wandered from the erotic to the pragmatic and back again several times.

Though the previous week of denial had been rough for me, it was hard to see the negative sides of it while Morgan was allowing me such decadent use of her pussy. In the midst of what was by far the hottest sex session of my life so far. As a consequence, the decisions we were making might not have been entirely well thought-out.

The Ollie-only blowjob rule was just our latest concoction. We’d also decided that going forward, neither of us were allowed to climax unless we were thinking about ways to enhance Morgan’s newfound sluttiness. And that it was Ollie’s right to no longer rely on his hand for masturbation; getting him off should be Morgan’s responsibility from now on.

Despite the extreme mental zone we were in, there was still one point of discussion that caused me serious concern. It was around Ollie’s annoyance, which he had apparently voiced to Morgan a number of times, over her being so secretive about hooking up with him. It bothered him, apparently, that she treated it like something she should be ashamed about.

“He acts like it’s something we should be ashamed about,” I argued. “He keeps calling us disgusting freaks for allowing this to happen.”

Regardless, Morgan was sympathetic to his perspective, given the baggage he had when it came to his relationship with women. Plus, it did seem inevitable that her frequent visits to his room would attract the notice of Bobby and Andrew sooner or later. Maybe it would be less humiliating in the long run to just own what we were doing rather than let it be discovered by happenstance.

I considered the fairly nonjudgmental way Bobby had reacted to the two of them dancing and groping at the party, and tried to convince myself that perhaps him and Andrew knowing wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It certainly would free Morgan and Ollie to be far more indulgent in all the sordid activities she and I (and he) were currently plotting. Which, at the moment, appealed to me enormously.

“He’d take so much advantage of it,” I speculated.

She nodded. “Can you imagine? Especially once he figures out he gets to use my mouth whenever he wants?”

“Whenever he wants. Fuck.”

“Just like, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me into his room. Everybody knowing why.”

“He’d go out of his way to make it obvious, probably. ‘Okay Morgan, I’m ready for my morning blowjob.’”

“Ugghh, that would make me feel like such a slut.” Which was a positive for her, we had both come to understand.

“It could be so embarrassing for me though, Morgan,” I said, trying to be earnest for a moment. “What if they want an explanation for why I’m okay with you doing all this?”

She rocked her ass back into me as we continued fucking. “Could you see yourself just being honest with them? Like, who are they to judge us for what we choose to do with our sex lives? For what turns us on?”

“What if they want to take advantage of our… openness, and demand a turn themselves?”

She pondered it. “Me, with Andrew and Bobby?” she mused. “Well, it would be up to Ollie, remember? He’s the one who decides whose dick goes in my mouth.”

“Fuuuuuuck…”

Our conversation had gone on and on in this vein. All our attempts to take a considered approach to this new mode of behavior we’d embraced led us back to the obscene.

This last utterance of Morgan’s had sent me once more over the edge. I surged into her to deposit my fourth load of the night, amidst her verbal encouragements.

I collapsed next to her, thinking that I was perhaps truly spent at this point. But my mind was still fixated on our new obsession.

“But seriously, Morgan,” I asked yet again. “You’re really really going to start giving Ollie blowjobs? You’re not just saying it because it’s kinky to say?”

She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at me completely straight-faced. “Tyler, please believe me when I tell you the only thing stopping me from marching into his room right now and wrapping my lips around his thick penis is the fact that he just came for me earlier tonight.”

“....”

“I want him to be really excited for me when we do it.”

—

A growingly familiar sense of panic blossoming as I awoke to an empty bed. The certainty of why: she would be across the hall, making good on her promise to submit to Ollie’s oral advances. Then, relief blended with disappointment at the sound of the toilet flushing and my door creaking open as she returned to me.

She’d donned a shirt, but not pants. Moving through my suite with her thong-clad ass on display. Smiling at me, slightly embarrassed. “Hey,” she offered.

My eyes bore into her as if in an effort to read her thoughts. “Hey. Been gone long?” Her partial nudity hardly seemed worth quibbling over or even mentioning, all else considered.

She rolled her eyes as she crawled back into bed with me. “No, I just went to the bathroom.”

“Ah.”

“Are you, like, disappointed?” She turned away, offering my crotch the swell of her ass, which I pressed myself into. “Or is the reality of all this hitting you in the cold light of day like it is for me?”

“Both,” I admitted. “Last night was insane, Morgan.”


She forced out a mirthless chuckle. “Which part?”

I considered it. “All of our dirty talk afterwards was wild, but a lot of fun. But actually seeing you two together.. Fuck. I had psyched myself up for it to be intense but I really didn’t expect it to go like that.”

She took my hand and pushed it up her shirt, holding it between her bare breasts. Between the hangover and last night’s marathon, my dick barely stirred. “So, let’s talk it through,” she said. “We can put a stop to all this if we need. Ollie will obviously be upset, but fuck him, I’m yours, Tyler.”

I kissed her neck. “I love you baby,” I breathed. “But I don’t own you. I don’t want to be that guy.”

Her head was turned away but I could see her cheeks tighten into a smile. “Even if I want you to be?”

More kisses. “Fiiiine. Twist my arm, I guess. You’re mine.”

After a brief cuddle she continued. “But so, I do think we should talk more about how we’re feeling about all this. Like seriously talk, not just fantasize about me being Ollie’s… you know.”

In spite of everything my dick began to betray me once again. “His slut,” I murmured.

“Come on though, Tyler,” she insisted, pushing at my hip to stop me from humping her. “We can’t just keep, like, wallowing in debauchery. Our relationship comes first.”

“I know, I know,” I disengaged from her body (which wasn’t helping to keep me from impure thoughts) and flopped flat on my back. “Okay, what can I say? There’s no point in pretending I don’t find it ridiculously hot that you’re being.. how you are with him.”

She spun towards me and traced her fingers along my shoulder and bicep supportively, waiting for me to continue.

“There are elements of it that bother me,” I said carefully. “But it’s hard to tell what they are, exactly. Like, the way my heart starts racing out of jealousy … it’s pretty much the same as sexual excitement at this point, you know? Like, indistinguishable.”

“Mmm,” she considered. “It does turn me on to drive you crazy, babe. But I also don’t want any of this to be genuinely upsetting for you. This should be fun for all of us. Otherwise what’s the point?”

I thought about it. “Okay,” I said. “The stuff that you’re doing, like, for Ollie’s pleasure? Letting him see you and grope you, even letting him cum on you.. Maybe it’s a weird way to put it, but that all seems like good wholesome fun to me.”

“Yeah, totally wholesome,” she quipped.

“I mean, it is, though! It’s like, there’s a power dynamic where we’re the experienced, worldly couple, blowing this kid’s mind by opening his eyes to a world of sex he thought he wouldn’t be able to experience.”

“He’d hate to hear you say that,” she noted, bemused.

“Yeah but like you said, fuck him. It’s honestly hilarious that he’s still managing to be such a bitter little shit about everything even though he’s getting to blow ropes on another guy’s girlfriend.”

“A girlfriend who really loves her boyfriend, too,” she emphasized. “... But Tyler, I do get why he’s like that. Yes, he’s never done any of this stuff with a girl before and he’s definitely thrilled that he’s getting to. But it’s also making him even more jealous of us, and what we have, you know?”

“Yeah… yeah, I guess that makes sense. I don’t really see any solution though. Like, do you see Ollie actually branching out and getting a girlfriend? He was so resistant to going to the party with us, and then he didn’t exactly behave himself like a gentleman when he did.”

We pondered in silence for a few moments.

“But back to us,” Morgan said. “I feel like the whole ‘good wholesome fun’ thing was a preamble…”

“Yeah. Yeah, there’s also parts of it that are a lot harder to dealt with.”

“Such as.”

“Well like I said, I’m pretty much completely into the idea of you making Ollie’s brain explode with your body. It doesn’t even make me that jealous, by this point. It’s like, an ego boost even. ‘Look at how incredibly hot my girlfriend is’.”

“Buuuut….”

“But Morgan, I watched you … you know…” Deep breath, Tyler. “...I watched you orgasm on his fingers.”

She tensed up a bit at this.

“Which is something I’ve literally never been able to do for you. And then like, you both sent me out of the room. I know we both leaned into the whole ‘keeping secrets’ thing but last night was supposed to be when you told me everything and have there be nothing else hidden between us.”

“Tyler..”

I charged ahead. “And I know I grilled you at length about everything when you came back to my room, but in all honesty I was kinda thinking with my dick the whole time and I still don’t really understand how you got from teaching Ollie how to kiss to, like, him … working you over like that. And like, yeah I guess I’m a bit freaked out about it.”

I shut up at this point, figuring I’d made my point and didn’t need to browbeat her.

“Well,” she murmured after a heavy pause. “I definitely don’t love that I’ve made you feel this way, baby.”

I shrugged. “I mean, it’s not the end of the world or anything. I’m not saying it to guilt-trip you or make you feel bad. And I’m pretty sure I’m way too addicted to the sexual thrill of all this to call a stop to it. But since we’re putting our cards on the table… yeah, this is the part that’s hard for me to deal with.”

“Well… what would make it better?”

I thought for a moment, trying to find the truthful answer. “Security camera footage,” I wisecracked, realizing that what I wanted was impossible. “Of every single moment that happened between you two over the week, so I can scrutinize how the fuck he got so confident with your body. With subtitles explaining every thought that was going through your head the entire time.”

I thought this was quite clever, but instead of laughing at my wit, Morgan considered my words thoughtfully.

“I think I can do that for you.”

“???”

“No dirty talk,” she went on. “Morgan’s full account of everything that happened, and everything that went through my head. In as much detail as I can remember.”

Fuck. That sounded pretty hot. Scary, but hot.

“I’m listening…”

—

“Well, for starters I was pretty much a ball of nerves every single time it happened. Visiting him, I mean. Even though I had your permission, it still really felt like actual cheating? Like, this lurching feeling in my stomach that we could get caught or something. That I was getting away with something really bad.

“It was always that initial moment of knocking on his door that was the hardest. Of proving to him over and over again that yes, I am really going to keep being fodder for him to kiss, feel up, and masturbate to. It was embarrassing for me every single time. And, kinda like how you described the jealousy thing… after a certain point I felt like I was almost looking forward to that feeling of shame as much as any other part of it.

“But so, okay. It was also extremely satisfying to just watch his eyes pop out of his head every single time I pulled my shirt up. I swear he basically starts, like, hyperventilating over my tits. Like every time he acts as though it’s still the first time he’s seeing boobs.

“And so the second time I went to his room for him to cum to me, after you and I had made our agreement about making you wait all week to find out? That’s when I took off all my clothes for him. And, like, thinking how if just breasts are so exciting to him, how will he react to seeing me completely naked? And not just a flash like in the shower but really getting to enjoy my nudity and masturbate to it?

“God Tyler, it must have been so obvious to him how eager I was to be naked for him.

“Like, he didn’t even have to really ask. I had taken off my shirt and bra for him and then he was like, ‘Uh, Morgan, do you think you could…’ and he didn’t even have to finish the fucking sentence, I literally was just all, ‘Oh, you want my pants off too?’ and he nodded with that desperate look in his eyes.

“We didn’t even get to really kiss that time. I mean, I insisted on kissing him because it’s the Rules, but he came so quickly the second I’d stripped down. He was on his bed, with his dick out, and I was standing in front of him. I pulled my jeans off first and then hooked my thumbs into my panties and asked if he was ready, and, like... my pubic hair had barely come into view when he just came all over himself.

“I guess it kind of made him mad? I had to actually ask him for a kiss after that. As in, ‘can I at least get my kiss, though?’ It was so fucking embarrassing, Tyler. But yeah he said how he wished he hadn’t cum so quickly, and wanted more time to look at me naked.

“So I promised him next time I’d get naked for him again. Which, of course he then said should be one of the Rules: not just flashing my boobs, but me getting completely naked for him every time I come by the suite.

“That’s also when he came up with the idea of how I could leave without you also getting off, Tyler. Which I did agree to, but I didn’t have any intention of actually following through unless you were also into the idea. But yeah, he was in this sort of mean-spirited post-orgasm mood and that was his way of getting revenge or something.

“Okay, then the third visit. He had me strip for him. He, like, directed me this time; he wanted me to face away from him and arch my back and peel down my panties with my ass thrust towards him. I was blushing like crazy. But yeah, he obviously had put some thought into it and was determined to take full advantage.

“And then I embarrassed myself real bad by asking why he wasn’t touching himself while I did it. And he laughs and goes, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get my dick out for you soon enough.’ Ugh!

“So I’m standing there, naked, with my ass in his face waiting for him to tell me what to do. He was just staring at my butt for like, I dunno. Minutes, it felt like.

“And the whole time I’m holding this humiliating pose, with like, my back arched and it sticking out for him. Just him breathing all heavy while he stares at my naked backside. Finally he tells me to turn around.

“It was like he didn’t know where to look. His eyes kept bouncing from my tits to my vagina and back. And yeah, it was making me extremely turned on to be having this effect on him. It reminded me of how you first reacted to seeing me totally naked, but you were honestly way more collected and, like, suave compared to him.

“So my naughty side sort of took over and I found myself asking him if he wanted to, like… to kiss a naked girl…

“Tyler, he made me fucking straddle him and make out with him. I could feel his huge boner pressing into me. I was scared I was going to get his pants wet and I would have basically had to kill myself out of shame if he noticed and said something about it.

“And he was like, going to town on me… he had one hand on my chest and the other on my butt, like, squeezing pretty hard to where I thought I might bruise. And of course my body just acted on its own and I sort of might have started grinding against him a little..

“Well, he put a stop to that right away. I guess because he didn’t want to repeat the mistake from before of finishing too soon? So he, like, uses his grip on my tits and ass to literally hold me still and goes ‘Hold on, Morgan.’ Again, super incredibly embarrassing. Like I’m this brainless slut getting chastised for acting out of turn or something.

“And to make it worse without even thinking about it I tell him I’m sorry?? It just, like, came out automatically.

“But so anyway he’s sitting there, hands on my body, me on top of him, not kissing me anymore and trying to keep himself from popping off. And he’s like, not looking me in the eye, but looking down between my legs where my pussy is against his bulge. Trying to get a peek, it seemed like, although the angle wasn’t very good.

“And, again, naughty side in control… I notice him looking and ask him if he wants to get a better look at it. I think the exact words I used were ‘Do you want to get a better look at me down there?’

“And fuck, Tyler, you should have seen the look on his face. Like, he couldn’t speak at all. He could barely even nod. So I slide off him onto his bed and am sort of sitting like this, propped up with my arms and both of my knees together over to one side. And I had to like, coach myself. Don’t think about it, Morgan, just fucking do it. And just moved my knees apart and spread my legs for him like, right in front of his face. Like this.

“I swear to god I finally understood the whole cartoon trope of when steam comes out of someone’s ears. Like his face was so bright red I could practically feel the heat coming off it. His eyes were just locked onto my vagina.

“And baby, my pussy was like… well, I was in a really excited state. So, yeah. Visibly wet and kind of open? Ugh…

“And like, my brain is just a puddle at this point. I mean his face was like three feet from my pussy and I still decided to ask him if the way I was positioned was okay, if he had a good enough view of me. Like, who says something like that?? And he just nods, totally dumbfounded.

“Tyler, I was getting so fucking turned on at this point it felt like my chest was going to cave in. I wanted it to be even worse, even lewder. Like, I wanted to ask him to get his face down between my legs so he could look at me up close. I wanted so badly to reach down and pull my lips apart as far as I could and just show him what a naughty slut’s spread-open hole looks like…”

—

“Tyler, you’re not supposed to fucking masturbate to this!”

I thought I’d been subtle. Now that I was caught red handed, I tried for indignation instead.

“Are you fucking kidding me Morgan? Do you hear the shit that’s coming out of your mouth?!”

“Well, but this is supposed to be, like, us clearing the air though?”

“It is. It’s working. We’re clearing the air. Please keep going…”

—

“Well, we never got to the point of me doing that. Spreading myself, I mean. Not that time, I mean. I was straight up trying to work up the courage to make myself say the words and offer to do it for him when he finally unzips his pants and pulls out his dick…

“And it’s like, basically angry looking he’s so hard over what we’re doing. Like an angry purple erection, with the ridge of his dickhead all extra defined and stuff from how hard he is.

“And it just hits me that we both have our… sex organs out, like, right next to each other, in a state of extreme arousal, and meanwhile I have every intention of keeping it a secret from you all week… ugh, Tyler, it felt so unbelievably inappropriate and, like, borderline criminal.

“But anyway I don’t really have time to think about it because it takes him only two or three strokes to start shooting his cum. And once again, he’s like, upset that it’s happening? Or something? There’s this steady stream of ‘god dammit, oh fuck, oh fuck’ coming out of his mouth while he orgasms.

“And I don’t even think this was intentional on his part, but he splattered it all over me. Like I suddenly felt all these warm globs of cum splattering on my knees and thighs.

“He didn’t say anything about it at the time. About getting his load on me. He just seemed annoyed that he’d climaxed, I guess because he hadn’t wanted the whole experience to be over so soon.

“So I just helped myself to some tissues from the box he has at his computer, like, knowing full well it’s the same box of tissues he’s using for his constant masturbation.

“Boy did that make me feel like the lowest woman on earth. Reduced to cleaning up Ollie’s cum in his jerk-off den with him.

“The next day, it was hard for us to meet up because Bobby and Andrew were home and you weren’t, and it would have been kinda sus for me to just show up and disappear into his room when you weren’t around. And mind you, I know who’s home and who isn’t because at this point Ollie and I are texting each other directly…

“It felt SUPER shady and, like, conspiratorial. And we were being kinda indirect in the texts too, not mentioning anything explicitly sexual or anything. It really rubbed in the fact that we were basically sneaking around.

“But anyway, he figures out that I’m not comfortable coming by while the other guys are home without you there too, but he’s being super pushy because… well. For obvious reasons, I guess. Like, he’s suggesting all these ways we could make it work, not wanting to take ‘no’ for an answer.

“So then when he suggested he could come meet with me at my place instead, my immediate instinct was hell no, I am not risking Emily walking in on me cheating on you with Ollie and having to explain all of this to her or, even worse, her boyfriend.

“So Ollie’s solution is that we literally lock ourselves in one of bathrooms of my dorm building. I cannot tell you how trashy it made me feel to agree to that. What kind of girl am I, that I’m so determined to let this guy – who obviously doesn’t really respect me or why else would he be suggesting such a thing – so determined to let him get his hands on me that I’m willing to lock myself in a public bathroom with him.

“And, yes. I got completely naked for him in the bathroom. Ugh. And sat on the toilet and spread my legs open for him again so he could look at my pussy, again. And he was much bolder about it this time. Like, he told me how he really liked how I showed it to him last time and would I do it again.

“And that helped me work up the courage to offer to do what I’d wanted to do last time, which was reach down with both hands and pull my labia apart while he got, like, inches away with his face. My heart was fucking pounding.

“And Tyler, he started like, pointing things out about it. About my obscenely spread-open vagina. It turned into a fucking anatomy lesson. He was like, is this part the clit? Yes Ollie, you know what a clit is, huge surprise given how much porn you probably watch, give yourself a pat on the back.

“But I didn’t say that. I didn’t make fun of him or anything. I just used my finger to pull back the hood so it would be displayed better and told him yes, that’s my clit.

“He asked if it was normal for a pussy to be so wet. Which forced me to admit how it was so wet because I was very sexually aroused. Yes, Ollie, from getting naked for you and from you looking at it.

“And, fuck… He asked if I realized he could also see my butthole in this position, and wasn’t that embarrassing for me. So I also had to tell him, yes, I know I’m just completely on display for him like this, and yes it’s very embarrassing.

“And just like that I’m fucking confessing to Ollie how I have an exhibitionism slash shame kink and part of the reason he can see my pussy pouring out so much fluid that it’s dripping down into my asshole is because I love how embarrassed it makes me feel for him to be scrutinizing my holes like this.

“Well, that obviously made him pleased as punch...

“He just started getting much more confident and assertive at this point overall. He asked about how he’d gotten his cum on my legs last time, and did I think that was a big deal. I told him it no, I was fine with it.

“So he tells me that one of his kinks is for a guy to cum on different parts of a girl’s body, and can we make him doing that one of the Rules? Which I was in no state to disagree with. I mean, I’ve never minded it when your cum gets on me but it’s always been something that just happens incidentally, not in like a fetishy way.

“But even if I was the type of girl to find it objectionable I doubt I would have turned him down in that moment…

“So then we stand up together and make out while he jerks himself off and fondles me with his other hand, with the idea being that at the last moment I’m going to get down on my knees in front of him so he can unload all over my tits.

“Tyler, I fucking got down on my knees in a dirty public bathroom so that Ollie could act out his pornographic fantasy on me and paint my breasts with his sperm.”

—

“It just kept escalating from there. The individual meetups just kind of start to blur together for me after that.

“Now that the topic of kink had been broached, he wanted to know more about what turns me on, what other sorts of things I like sexually, that sort of thing. It’s what led to me telling him about our whole game of keeping things secret from you.

“I swear, I didn’t bring it up to like, humiliate you or anything. If anything I was trying to just put it in the context of this was something we were intentionally doing, because we wanted to be, not because I was in any way actually betraying you or anything. But of course he snickered at it and made rude remarks about how we’re freaks.

“He also got much braver when it came to my pussy. Not surprising considering he’d watched me flood myself from showing it to him and explain in no uncertain terms that showing him was what was getting me in that state.

“So that’s how the pussy-touching started, baby. He sort of approached it like he had with kissing lessons, the whole woe-is-me act about how he was definitely going to embarrass himself with other girls when he tries to touch them.

“Though he did manage to get in the zinger that he probably can’t rely on them practically cumming themselves just from having him look at them down there, like he can with me.

“Which… you can’t imagine how humiliating it was for him to put it like that, but I mean… he kind of had a point.

“But anyway, the gist is that he asked if I could give him some pointers on how a girl likes to have her pussy touched.

“At first it was just me showing him. Tyler, I tried to be a good teacher and explain how vaginas are delicate and should be treated carefully and gently. I showed him how I like to very gently rub myself by just touching the hood of my clit, how touching it directly was too intense for me unless I was very aroused.

“And of course he immediately wanted to try himself. This seemed like, wildly out of bounds to me and I was sort of like, ‘I dunnooooo…’ but this is when he started using our own game against us. Talking about how wasn’t the whole point that I was supposed to do racy stuff, things that would surprise you and all that.

“Well, spoiler alert, he obviously talked me into it.

“It wasn’t too difficult if I’m being honest. I already felt so slutty sneaking around with him and basically not having any decency. So I might not have put up too much of a fight.

“He kinda listened to my instructions at first. The first time he touched me down there, it was another meet up in my dorm’s bathroom with me standing there totally naked, him completely clothed, french kissing each other. And his hand just sort of hesitantly starts tracing through my pubic hair and like, feeling around for the good bits.

“As soon as his fingers found their way to my wetness, though, it was like a switch flipped in his head. All my lessons were completely out the window. He was not gentle, like, at all. He just starts ‘oh my god’ing and ‘what the fuck’ing and spreading my juices around everywhere down there.

“He’d asked before about fingering and I’d told him how you have to get a girl really excited first and then, once you’ve rubbed around her clit and gotten her super worked up, then maybe you can gently put a finger inside her. Carefully, the way I’ve always liked to have it done.

“Well, fat chance of that. It was like he needed to push his chubby fingers into me as far as he could get them.

“I protested at first. I was like ‘wait, Ollie, that’s too much, it hurts.’ If it had been you, I know you would have immediately respected my boundaries and stopped. But it was like he didn’t even hear me! If anything he just, like, ramped it up.

“And baby, the awful thing is that it was actually kind of exciting? Like, to have my objection just completely ignored. Like he was just totally possessed because of my pussy and I couldn’t stop him from treating it how he wanted.

“No, that’s not really true. It’s hard to be honest about this, especially after you said how it’s the part that most upset you. But it wasn’t ‘kind of exciting…’ It was one of the hottest things that’s ever happened to me.

“Like, I loved that he ignored me telling him to stop and kept doing it anyway… I know that’s really bad.

“And I could immediately feel my body start rushing towards orgasm. Which completely shocked me… I mean, you know how hard it is for me to climax.

“So within, like, seconds I go from telling him to stop, to grabbing my t-shirt and stuffing it into my mouth to muffle my screams while I cum hard on his fingers.”

CHAPTER 8 - THE GIRLFRIEND EXPERIENCE - Part 2

Morgan was endlessly patient in her detailed account and, in my estimation, completely honest with me. I could tell it was hard for her to come clean about certain aspects of what had transpired.

Ollie was Ollie, so it was no surprise for him to act in a boorish manner; that was on him, not on Morgan.

But the truth of the matter was that she’d (they’d) unlocked a part of herself that enjoyed his uncouth treatment of her. That she admitted this to me cut both ways. On the one hand, I appreciated her vulnerability for telling me so; I’d made it clear how difficult it was for me to hear about this aspect, and how could I not be touched by her obvious consternation at causing me distress? There was no doubt in my mind that Morgan truly loved and cared for me.

Yet, there was no getting around the fact that the jealousy it inspired in me genuinely stung. She knew it would, and viewed it as her responsibility to resist sparing my feelings. To get everything out in the open between us. So her dismay at confessing how erotic she found Ollie’s approach to her body only intensified my anxiety.

The fact of her hesitation to share the full extent of her feelings told me that I should be jealous. My insides were in knots over it.

And that was, in a way, not even the worst part. What really shocked me was that Morgan didn’t just find Ollie’s behavior titillating in the sense that it being so wrong made it hot to her in a taboo, transgressive sense. She also seemed to believe he was justified in acting in such a manner.

In fact, each time I lamented Ollie’s inability to feel the gratitude towards her (and me, for sharing her) I felt was warranted, I noticed she seemed to get almost defensive on his behalf.

Towards the end of Morgan’s grand recap of the week’s events, it turned into something like a proper argument.

It started with us discussing Ollie’s frequent complaint that he and Morgan shouldn’t need to be hiding the fact of their sexual affair; how the need for discretion was somehow unfair to him.

“Maybe if we felt like we could rely on him acting remotely like a gentleman, we would be more inclined to be open about this weird poly situation we’re in with him,” I suggested.

“But Tyler, we’re partly to blame for him not being a gentleman, you know? Like, we haven’t exactly discouraged him from indulging in all his most salacious desires throughout all this. In fact you might say we’ve strongly encouraged him..”

“I dunno that I’ve been encouraging him..” I regretted the words as soon as they’d left my mouth.

“Really, Tyler?” Her tone was wounded. “I mean maybe you haven’t been directly, but it’s not like you didn’t have four orgasms last night while we plotted on how I could be as slutty for him as possible.”

“...”

“While you fantasized about him passing me around the suite like a freeuse oral whore.”

“...”

“I mean come on, that was kind of unfair, Tyler.”

I sighed. “You’re right, it wasn’t fair. I have been an eager accomplice throughout the whole thing. I’m sorry.”

An awkward silence. Despite my apology, I could still sense a tension from Morgan.

“I do have.. an idea about how to maybe address it,” she finally said, her obvious nervousness a clear signal that I should probably be panicking over whatever she was about to suggest.

“Okay..?”

“It’s honestly probably not a big deal at all, considering what all we’ve actually gotten up to.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“And it would be a way of like, testing the waters with Bobby and Andrew to see how they might react to actually finding about about… stuff…”

“Oh my god, Morgan, are you going to quit filibustering and tell me what you’re scheming on?”

She giggled; my tone had been light-hearted.

“Okay. Ugh, fuck it. I want Ollie to take me out on a date.”

“...”

“...”

“...A date.”

“Yeah! I mean, think about it. It’s like, teaching him the etiquette of how to treat a girl and all that. Bobby and Andrew already have picked up on our, like, ‘project’ of getting him to be more social. And a date isn’t even necessarily anything sexual, you know?”

“You want to, like, date Ollie?!”

“A date, Tyler. Come on, it’s like you said, he’s never going to become boyfriend material if all we’re teaching him is how to treat women like sexual objects. This will sort of be a trial for him to get some experience pretending like he actually has a girlfriend!”

To my dismay, I had to admit she had a point. “I mean, I get where you’re coming from here, I think. But Morgan, a date might not necessarily be anything sexual. But it’s potentially something way worse!”

“Which is?”

“Uh… romantic??”

Morgan snorted at this. “If Ollie manages to be romantic on a date with me, I think we should consider it an immense victory in us helping him become an eligible bachelor who might actually be able to approach a girl on his own.”

“Yeah but… I don’t necessarily want some other guy being romantic with my girlfriend!”

She was somewhat taken aback by this and took a few moments to regain her composure. “Well, shit. I didn’t think you would react like this, I guess. I mean considering everything else Ollie and I have done…”

“Fuck.” I really couldn’t stand it when something I said made her feel ashamed of herself. “You’re right. I can’t just be okay with you being slutty for him, and then get all jealous and possessive when you want to do something that’s at least in the same universe as normal, by comparison.”

She grinned at me. “I do kinda like it when you’re possessive of me though.”

We held each other for a moment, the tension seeming to evaporate as our mutual affection burned it away.

I did still feel incredibly nervous about this whole suggestion. It appeared it was going to have to be one of those “fake it until you make it” dilemmas.

And there were specific elements of this whole plan that gave me serious pause. “Bobby and Andrew…” I began.

“We could, like, make them a part of it,” she said. “They could, like, coach Ollie on how to conduct himself. Give him tips while he’s getting ready to wine and dine me. And they’ll think I’m, like, this cool, relaxed girl who is willing to go on an innocent date to help a guy out.”

“An innocent date.”

“Mmhmm.”

“A non-sexual date.”

“Yup!”

“Somehow I feel like Ollie is going to be majorly resistant to all of this.”

“Well, as far as Bobby and Andrew know it will be non-sexual. They don’t need to know I’m actually going to put out if Ollie treats me good..”

“Put out! Do you mean, like… sex?”

She shrugged. “Oral sex, maybe. Yes. I mean last night we were both hell bent on it.”

“‘Oral sex is sex’,” I said, echoing her words. “Yep, I think if he knows that’s on the table, he’ll agree to anything.”

—

As it turned out, no promise of oral sex had been required to bribe Ollie into taking Morgan out on a date. In fact, he agreed instantly, and with an enthusiasm and eagerness that I might have had the capacity to find specifically worrisome – if I wasn’t already in knots over the whole thing.

I tried – with little success – to talk myself down from the anxiety. Although Ollie seemed to really push Morgan’s buttons sexually, and even in ways I did not, surely a date was an area the sullen little shit couldn’t possibly compete with me, right?

But this just made it sting all the more acutely when I pictured him somehow successfully romancing my girlfriend despite the odds.

There was also the notion of being open with Bobby and Andrew about the date, which I could tell Morgan was more than a little keen on doing. Whether this was to humor Ollie or scratch some itch of her own, I wasn’t sure.

Again, while pragmatically this didn’t seem like it should be all that awkward, the fact was I knew it might lead to Morgan and Ollie taking their sexual intimacy to the next level. My paranoid side felt like our other housemates would surely be able to detect something in the air that clued them into what was really going on.

Well, I told myself, fuck it. Instead of spending my time fretting about my feelings of shame and attempting to reign them in, maybe I should just embrace the jealousy and the adrenaline-pumping arousal it produced. It was like Morgan said: if all of this wasn’t enjoyable for me, what was the point?

Ever since Morgan had first favored Ollie with a simple kiss on the cheek, some sort of ember had been lit within my chest. Every course of action we’d taken since, no matter how appalling, had stoked this inner flame.

You should root for Ollie to seduce Morgan, I told myself, trying the thought on for size. My face went flush at the notion of embracing such a goal. Of submitting to it. You should want Bobby and Andrew to find out, and then thank your slutty girlfriend for allowing it to happen. Do it, you fucking pussy.

This train of thought left me short of breath. It was like I was psyching myself up to jump out of an airplane. Was I intentionally rewiring my brain to not only accept, but to crave the unspeakable?

My dick ached in my pants at full mast. I was in serious trouble.

—
“A date?! Attaboy, Ollie!” Bobby bellowed in characteristic ebullience. Ollie seemed to be taking the ribbing in good spirits for once, unable to wipe the smirking grin off his face he’d been wearing since Morgan had proposed the date idea to him.

“And why aren’t you going, Tyler?” he continued. “Aren’t you guys, like, a throuple?”

I rolled my eyes, unable resist cracking a grin as well. “I’ve got to catch up on homework,” I fibbed. “Plus, I think Ollie needs the practice more than I do.”

“Fuck off, Tyler,” Ollie whined. “And we’re not a fucking ‘throuple’.”

Despite his performed outrage, we could all tell Ollie was in as good a mood as ever. I wondered if Morgan had clued him into the impending blowjob she intended to bestow after all.

He’d actually shuffled out into the living room to shyly ask our opinion on his outfit. Which, not being his usual hoodie and baggie shorts, did make it seem as though he was putting some genuine effort into this.

“I’m sure Morgan will just fall all over herself when she sees it,” teased Bobby.

“Shut up dude. It’s just because it’s a nice restaurant and I don’t want to look like an idiot.”

For his part, Andrew seemed a bit more reserved than normal. Almost as if he understood that this was all a bit strange and didn’t have the heart to say so. I tried to convince myself the humiliation factor at play here was something I actually craved, and not something that made me want to flee the premises and never interact with my housemates again.

These feelings intensified when Morgan showed up to claim her date, in one of the sexiest getups she’d ever been spied wearing. Her legs and behind were particularly scrumptious in the form-fitting skirt she’d donned, but what kicked it up to the next level was the thin cardigan she wore on top, the bottom buttons undone to reveal a hint of her tummy. We’d all seen her wearing it plenty of times, but never without a bra or shirt underneath.

This outfit was all about the breasts; their form and movement showcased in detail and with blatant intent. Bobby and Andrew now knew the shape of Morgan’s nipples, a fact which was perhaps in part responsible for the self-satisfied smile that played on her lips.

“Hey, guys!” she sang out, her voice an angelic melody. “What’s up?!”

Of the four gobsmacked male faces that beheld this creature, Bobby recovered first.

“Well hello, beautiful,” he said in his easy-going Bobby way. “Here to pick up your Date?”

Though Bobby had always been affectionate with Morgan in a perfectly appropriate manner, I did note the mild escalation in familiarity the pet name implied. The boundaries were already shifting, ever so slightly.

I braced myself for her to fawn exaggeratedly over Ollie’s punched-up appearance, either in a way that embarrassed him or that made clear her sexual attraction. She was, however, utterly relaxed, offering him her arm and swooping him out the door.

“Have fun, babe,” I managed as she left, earning me a dazzling flash of the eyes that reminded that we were still partners in crime, and which would sustain me over the subsequent hours.