I always felt I’d fallen on my feet with my University digs. Despite having a two-bed room, I’d never had to share. I was incredibly lucky to have all that space to myself, and I’d always made the most of it. All that changed when Celeste arrived. She’d come over from France on a placement, gaining experience of the English language for her own degree, or something.
It was up to my University to find her somewhere to stay and, ever the cheapskates, their own property was the cheapest option. Therefore, she ended up in my room. I know it’s not like I had to give up my bed or anything, but I’d gotten so used to my own space that I felt affronted having anyone share it.
When she arrived, though, it wasn’t so bad. I was expecting a language barrier and awkwardness, speaking only the most basic French myself, but she turned out to speak better English than I do!
Celeste settled in quickly and we got on famously. Just as well since we were living in such close proximity, I guess. My main problem with the situation was the lack of privacy. I’d always been able to go to the loo with the door open, or wander around in the buff if I wanted to. They were proving difficult habits to break. Not to mention masturbation. I’d taken that TOTALLY for granted. No more slipping into bed with my Rampant Rabbit for a quick session before sleep time – even if Celeste was asleep that damn noise would wake her up!
After a few frustrating wank-free weeks, I was at bursting point. As we were both always popping in and out of the dorms all day, there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t come in at any minute. Finally, I got so desperate that I decided to take the risk. Having no boyfriend at the time, it was the only way I could get any relief. I was sure she had a lecture at twelve for an hour. I was going to do it.
I skipped over to the window and closed the curtains, but not before peeking out across the courtyard to make sure Celeste wasn’t around; I had visions of her coming back to collect a forgotten book or something. It would be just my luck. The coast was clear; excellent.
I drew back from the window and cursed as my top caught the handle of the dressing table drawer. Celeste’s dressing table. I untangled myself and went to shut the drawer; until I saw what was inside.
The saucy minx had a dildo in there! One of the thick, veiny lifelike things, complete with balls. I was astounded. Here was me, desperate to masturbate and yet she was finding time to use this bad boy! Or was she? Just because it was there… after all, she was in the same predicament as me. Perhaps she used it in the shower, with the noise of the running water to drown out her cries?
I was lost in reverie – images of Celeste standing under the shower, stuffing herself with this monstrous synthetic cock – when the door opened.
Startled, I shoved the hand holding the dildo behind my back. I must have looked like a kid stuck with their hand in the cookie jar. I suppose I was, in a way. Celeste walked into the room, frowning at the dimness and flipped on the light.
“Liz? What are you doing? Why are the curtains closed?”