Freshman Roomate

Every character is over 18 and not based on anyone. Total fiction. I have no experience on this topic and no idea how to write it, but I gave it a shot. I am, however, a foot guy so there's some minor foot worship here. There's only mild sexual contact, so this isn't a strokefest.

Freshman Roommate

The freshman 'dorm' I was assigned to was an apartment complex of 250 units, each with an identical floor plan of two bedrooms and small common living area. Very basic, but my dad helped me appreciate that it wasn't the 8x12 room with bunk beds and spartan showers he had when he was here in the 80's. I'd be fine, I just awaited my roommate's arrival.

I'd already been here two weeks in my unsuccessful attempt to walk onto the football team. I didn't have any real expectation of making it but was still hopeful. I was good enough to start in high school, but these are the big leagues. They already had tight ends on scholarship; I'm too slow to be a wide-out and not big enough for a D1 college line. It didn't help that my high school coaches only half-heartedly advocated for me. That was frustrating but I can't really blame them. I'm not your stereotypical football player. I played hard on the field but otherwise kept to myself. I might have had a better chance if I'd kissed the coach's ass like the others did, but I have my pride.

I'm not a partier. Big social settings give me a mild anxiety I'm too proud to admit, and I've never really had a girlfriend and only casually dated; that meant my only sexual experiences were by my own hand while viewing the usual websites that would have disappointed my mother. It not only looked like club level rugby might be in my future, but with no real friends here, I was forced to play roommate roulette for my freshman year.

Instead of my new roommate's arrival, I was summoned to the residential living administrator's office; no idea why, I haven't really even left campus much less gotten into trouble. I was still nervous as I made my way up the hill to the administrative building and met my dorm director in the waiting room. His nervousness ramped up my own and he was so tight-lipped at why we were there.

"Kevin, thank you for coming in," the administrator welcomed me with the false warmth of a politician. He thanked me for choosing this university and wished me a positive academic experience etc. etc. before saying he'd get right to the point; it was irritating that he did anything but.

"Kevin, your roommate is arriving today," he said, taking on a serious tone. "As you're aware, gender politics is a controversial topic in our state. The state legislature has passed laws mandating certain requirements, one of which requires first year students in state universities such as ours to live in housing according to their assignment at birth."

The administrator took a dramatic pause as if waiting for the inevitable to sink in. I could only nod, but was exploding inside and what was obviously coming.

"Your roommate is transgender. Even though she was born male, she identifies as a woman. I want to make sure you're aware and can behave accordingly, showing her the dignity and respect we expect of our Jaguars."

The thought of having some weird crossdresser as a roommate pissed me off, but being threatened as if I couldn't handle it pissed me off even more. Invoking our school mascot added cringy icing to a shitty cake. Nothing about my college experience was starting off the way I hoped.

I guess on paper I'm an 19 year old high school football player from a small town in the most conservative state in the US. My family are God and Country conservatives but that doesn't mean I am! I always bristled at the bigotry and misogynist language in the locker rooms; maybe that's why I never really socialized with my teammates. The more I read about Libertarianism, the more I liked; without realizing it, I was becoming one of the live-and-let-live hippies nobody knows this state has.

I returned to my apartment and awaited the freak to show up looking like Klinger or more likely, some heifer with stringy hair, man-boobs and a hog ring in his nose; her nose, or whatever, before I repressed the deeply socialized prejudices that were bubbling up. Come on, Kevin, you're better than that. I disappointed myself at having to work harder to keep an open mind than I should have. Whatever 'she' was like, I realized I would miss out on the usual freshman experience of having a wingman to hit the bars with; or staying here with a twelve pack cursing another disappointing Cowboys season.

Multiple voices accompanied heavy footsteps pounding down the hall and disappointingly stopped at the door. Fuck, here comes the buffalo. I instinctively rose to my feet as the door opened to a mom and dad walking in ahead of their freshman. The dad was a mountain of a man in boots, cowboy hat and Virginia hams for hands. He forced a smile, sizing me up as his trophy wife trailed behind him looking far friendlier. She introduced herself first and I was so fixated on her beauty I barely noticed the beautiful mini-me next to her. Okay, there's the hot sister, where's her brother? Or sister... Fuck! I kept waiting for my roommate to trail in and make his appearance.

The clearly annoyed dad shoved one of his hams into my hand and introduced himself. I'm a big guy but his hand swallowed mine in an obvious attempt to intimidate.

I was still looking through the open door into the empty hallway when the mom introduced the mini-me, 'Nicole,' as my roommate.

No fucking way. Of all the anxiety-driven images in my mind, the possibility of this shy, petite, feminine and frankly gorgeous girl wasn't one of them.

"Uh," I stammered, "I'm Kevin, I guess we'll be roommates."

She returned a tentative smile and quickly looked away. Did I just say 'she?' Score one for being open-minded.

Mom and dad carried the first round of boxes into Nicole's bedroom and turned toward the door. The goddess smiled and the dad acted surprised when I offered to help. I walked out with them without waiting for an answer. Instead of following us out, Nicole stayed in her room to unpack.

Goddess tried to make superficial small talk as we got down to the truck but the dad interrupted. "Kevin, that little girl up there is everything to me."

"Jeffrey!" The mom sternly admonished but he waved her off and continued as if choking back tears. "Her life outside of our house hasn't been easy."

I was touched by the vulnerability shown by this huge man. He didn't have to say anything else, his message was clear: They'll never find your body.

Closed-minded as they are, my parents raised me to be respectful and I answered with a simple "yes sir."

I stopped short of saying anything else. I can't say I relate. Even though we're both freshmen leaving home for the first time, the path ahead of us won't be anything alike. Nicole, as she already has, will face challenges I won't have to. Any further reply I could offer would sound ingratiating or naively patronizing. The only other thing that came out was an awkward "I'm a good guy." I'm not even sure I believed it but the mom looked relieved as the dad remained unconvinced.

A lot of parents help their kids move in; mostly daughters, but this felt like the first day of kindergarten for Nicole. I kind of felt sorry for her; her situation is different and I don't blame her parents for being overprotective. Seeing how much they love and support her moved me and helped open my mind even more.

It took a while to get everything moved in and I think I scored some points helping the dad move some furniture around, then retreated to my own bedroom to give them space for an emotional goodbye.

Classes didn't start for a couple of days, so we were in that limbo of nothing to study and nothing to do. If I had a normal roommate we'd be out exploring the bars and restaurants in the city square a short walk from our apartment. Instead, I wasted my time doom-scrolling in front of the TV in our common room while Nicole stayed in her room with the door closed.

I don't blame Nicole for being so reclusive; she had no idea how accepting I'd be, or whether my overt attempts to be friendly were sincere. She only came into the common area to put stuff away in the kitchen and didn't spend any time in the living room. We went to our separate bedrooms without more than two words between us, much less a friendly 'good night.' I caught myself with that thought. Guys don't say goodnight to each other; why would I expect it from her? But she's not a guy, she's a girl and a damn cute one at that. But she's living in a guy's dorm packing the same gear I have. I lie in bed trying to reconcile this whole mind-fuck.

Nicole kept her distance as the weeks went on. We were well into the academic year and only crossed paths as we went back and forth between our classes. Though I didn't have the fun freshman roomie I could drink beer, watch games, and chase girls with, Nicole was exceptionally clean and quiet. Having another normal guy for a roommate could have easily gone the other way, and I was grateful not to be paired with some obnoxious slob.

The more I saw of Nicole the more I tried not to stare. Although I know she's a guy, all I saw was a beautiful girl. She's a petite 5'6", very thin and feminine with a girl's body; nice hips and a thin waist. And like her goddess of a mother, a nice proportionally sized pair of cantaloupes bolted onto her chest. They weren't big, butt perfect for her petite frame and enough to give a guy something to admire. Even if you didn't know what she was packing below, you'd know her rack was too perfect to be real. I was glad I got a chance to meet her mom just for a reference point. Like her mom, Nicole had long slender, perfectly manicured hands with long polished nails that matched her makeup. Her face was most feminine and always expertly made up, objectively beautiful. I wasn't comfortable with my undeniable physical attraction to her. Shit, I hope that doesn't make me gay. The war raged within my head:

She's hot!

But she's a guy.

No she's not!

She has a dick.

All I see is a beautiful girl.

Maybe I needed to see her when she wasn't made up as a girl. Yeah, that's it. If I could see her au naturel in her true form, I'd see her for the dude she is, and it would knock these ridiculous thoughts out of my brain so I could get on with my life. That would be a tough one. She's fully made up from the time she leaves her room until the time she goes to bed.

I didn't have to wait much longer as things came to a head on a Sunday morning. I started my laundry first after an early morning visit to the gym. I was in my room and in a foul mood. I needed to watch the fantasy football show on ESPN to get my lineup right, but sacrificed to cram for midterms when a knock on the door broke my trance.

"Here, you left a sock in the washer. I dried it with my stuff." Nicole all but threw it at me before turning back and walking away as I tried to thank her. The rudeness of walking away when I was trying to show some gratitude irritated me more than it should have. I called out to her to come back but she kept walking away. I'd had enough. I caught up to her just as she was entering her room and unloaded on her.

"Don't walk away from me! I was just trying thank you. I've been nothing but nice to you. Why would you just walk away like that? WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!" Those last words are a normal expression but mean something different to a trans. I immediately felt like shit.

"I'm sorry, I'm just very self-conscious when I'm not made up," she said in a small voice. She was wearing large framed glasses and her hair was back in a messy bun with some fly-aways crowding what I immediately noticed was a truly beautiful feminine face.

Her submissive reaction made me feel worse, and I apologized for overreacting. I realized I was an unwelcome man standing in her bedroom and retreated back to mine expecting her father waiting to crush me like a grape.

What a horrible backfire. I had a legit point about her walking away but it was overshadowed by my overreaction. Now I had to figure out how to repair what little friendship I've worked so hard to start. I felt like a complete asshole. Then my phone buzzed.

Nicole: I'm sorry for being rude

Me: I WAY overreacted. I'm sorry.

Nicole: No you didn't. I appreciate how nice you've been to me. I'm not used to it.

Me: I'm sorry and I'm trying to understand how different life is for you. I can't say I know, the best I can do is try to be a friend for you.

Nicole: You're sweet, and I've been ungrateful. It's hard for me to let people in. Every time I do I get hurt.

Fuck, why did my heart flutter when she called me sweet? Because she's hot, that's why, said the voice on my other shoulder.

My overreaction wasn't the only thing that backfired. I got my wish - to see Nicole in regular frumpy sweats without any makeup, and guess what. Still hot. I expected to see at least some masculine qualities that would etch into my brain and stop this unwelcome physical attraction - to a guy. Her cute button nose was still there, same flawlessly fair complexion, same gorgeous blue eyes, same perfectly thin lips.

Me: I'm so sorry for that. I promise you I'm a nice guy and will do better at not being offended when you want your privacy. It helps knowing it's not personal. At least I hope it's not? :)

Nicole: No! Please don't take it personally. I promise to do better acknowledging your kindness. Again, I'm sorry. I'm especially self-conscious when I'm not made up. I don't want anyone to see me.

Me: Why? It's only me here. You live here too and should be comfortable walking around any way you damn well choose to.

Nicole: It's my preference.

Me: Oh fuck, I did it didn't I? I read my text back and that sounded horribly paternal. Of course you can live the way you choose. I'm stacking up apologies here. I'm sorry.

She didn't reply, but I was on a roll and pushed all my chips forward.

Me: I'm going to take a chance here, but please know I'm speaking from the heart - I caught enough of a glance to see you're just as beautiful whether you're made up or not.

Another long pause.

Me: Are you okay?

Nicole: You're making me cry.

Me: More apologies. Please tell me I'm not being an asshole. I'm really trying to be a good guy but I don't know how.

This time I didn't get a knock on the door, I just watched the lever slowly turn, followed by a noticeably swollen-eyed Nicole, stifling a laugh. I set my phone down and instinctively rose to hug my roommate.

"Do you realize that 10 minute text is the most we've 'talked' since you moved in?"

Nicole laughed and wiped her eyes again. We made a deal. Nicole would be more open, and I'd stop trying so hard and just be - normal. The only way I could do that was to see her fully, completely and unambiguously for what she is - a girl.

"I'm sorry, I need to go. I need to make myself up for the day," Nicole ended our conversation looking far more relieved.

Nicole needed to study too and spent her Sunday at the library, returning after dinner. I was done studying and now on the couch watching my fantasy players disappoint me. I was pleased when she joined me on the couch, unzipped her leather riding boots and rested her feet on the coffee table. Oh boy... that's my Achilles heel. I've had a mild fetish as long as I could remember, especially clean, well-pedicured nylon covered feet. I tried oh so very hard not to stare, but she flexed and wiggled those adorably perfect toes and I couldn't resist.

"I don't see many women wearing hose anymore."

"I know! I wish they would come back in style. I like the feel and look of them. And they help."

My mouth betrayed me, "Why 'help'?" I was confused but she shot me a 'do I really have to tell you?' look.

"Ohhhh, I guess there's that," I nervously chuckled.

"They've become like a second skin for me but it gets uncomfortable sometimes, especially when I see a hot guy," she blushed.

I vainly tried to stifle my own red face, but glad she took our morning confrontation to heart. "Well, I'm glad I'm just your roommate and not some hot guy." I laughed, thoroughly enjoying our new comfort level.

"I don't know about that but yeah, you're my roommate and I'm lucky to have you." With that she squeezed my hand.

The clear sexual tension was as uncomfortable as it was somehow refreshing, but I felt the need to change the subject.

"Supposed to turn cold this weekend."

"Yeah, just in time for mid-terms to end; could get nasty."

The meteorological fortune tellers were right. Nicole fought the crowds at the grocery store to stock up and returned just in time for both of our phones to buzz with the same alert from the university, admonishing everyone to stay down and ride the storm out. We don't get a lot of snow here; it mostly rains, freezes, rains and freezes again, making a mess of the roads and power lines. Classes would be cancelled until the icy roads naturally melted.

I helped her put away the mostly junk food and laughed at the four bottles of red wine she brought home; she justified it by saying we could be in here a while and midterms were over, so there wasn't even any studying to do. She was right; we'd be on the couch binging Netflix for at least the next few days.

The front hit like a freight train. Our unit is on the top floor of the northwestern corner of our building and I swear I could feel the icy wind coming through the walls, even I was cold.

"There it is! Time to get comfortable."

"Way ahead of you," Nicole strolled back into the living room. As usual, her face was fully made up in a way most other women would consider a night on the town, but her hair was up in that messy bun again, and she was wearing kitschy Hello Kitty pajama bottoms with a white tank top. Her boobs might be fake but they still had enough sway when she walked to see she wasn't wearing a bra. There was something else swaying in front of her pajama bottoms. For the first time, I was seeing her in all her untucked glory. It wasn't big, just enough to pucker the thin cotton. A glimpse was all I needed and she thankfully didn't seem to notice, too busy clearing the couch pillows to plop down at the other end from me.

We were barely 10 minutes into whatever show she picked out before she noticed the draft and got fidgety, saying she wished she brought a blanket out. In an immense show of trust, Nicole allowed me to go into her room unsupervised to retrieve her fleece blanket from the foot of her bed. I felt like I was in another world with all of her stuffed animals and how it was decorated complete with pink unicorns and rainbows.

I spread the blanket across her lap and teased a rhetorical "why are girls always cold?" In spite of the fact I was also bundled up in sweats.

"I'm ALWAYS cold. And I've always been a girl."

I stammered, trying to figure out an appropriate reply; thankfully, she let me off the hook.

"You're dying to know, aren't you?"

I dropped the facade with an innocent "really? Always?" Admitting my curiosity.

Nicole nodded. "My parents raised me like a boy like anyone would, but I never felt comfortable. I've always been more comfortable around girls and girl things as far back as I can remember. My mom has always been my role model. She's always been the most beautiful woman I've ever seen (amen to that) and as I got older I wanted to be just like her. Whenever my parents weren't home, I'd go into their bedroom and try on her shoes and clothes. They never caught me but mom knew something was different when I'd sit there and watch her put on her makeup and fix her hair."

Nicole was really opening up to me. "How about your dad?" I asked. "Did he sense anything different?"

She nodded, "He tried. He'd signed me up for sports and wanted me to help him with yard work and working on the cars, but I didn't have any interest. I failed at all of it. I hated hearing my parents argue. I'm an only child so I was his only hope. He accused mom of making a mama's boy out of me. Hearing him say they should 'try for a boy this time' really hurt me. We fell into this cycle of dad trying to toughen me up and mom smothering and protecting me."

"Oh my god! That's awful." I found myself choking up just listening to her talk about ensuing therapy appointments and failed interventions at their church. "Something must have changed; it's pretty obvious how much he loves you, the way he scared the shit out of me."

That brought a welcome chuckle from her that ended the heartbreaking tension. "He's my daddy and I love him. I don't know, I guess he just came around and accepted me. I'm sure being married to such a strong woman had something to do with it."

"I'm glad he's accepting. I've heard horror stories about kids getting disowned and kicked out of the house. I'm glad I met your parents."

"No, nothing like that. He was never abusive, but mom and I really bonded. The HRT started after I turned 18."

I listened intently to Nicole's story and fuck if I wasn't getting turned on. Of course the vivid memory of meeting her mother was front and center. I was glad I had a pillow on my lap.

"It's so cold in here! Don't lie, I know you're as cold as I am." She thankfully changed the subject.

"Put them in my lap." That thought was out before I fully thought it through and she was only too glad to do so.

She tossed the blanket out across my lap and pulled her slippers from her feet. I could feel the coldness through her socks and removed those too. "Are you wearing hose?" I asked as I felt her freezing cold nylon feet.

"No..." She scoffed. "Don't tell me you couldn't tell, I saw you looking."

Busted. "Well yeah, but how...?"

"They're thigh highs, just an extra layer to help keep my legs warm; a lot of good that did. I didn't want to wear full hose so I could, you know, be free."

I returned her good natured laugh. "I don't know how you walk around tucked all day anyway."

"How'd you like to walk around with your cock bent back between your legs, not to mention your balls?"

"No ma'am."

I had to work to keep her feet away from my own free swinging rod, which was now unapologetically pointing forward toward the TV; thank goodness for the pillow. Returning a little bit of warmth to Nicole's feet awakened my fetish. I'm a beer guy, nobody told me you're only supposed to sip wine, so my inhibitions were fading fast, evidenced by how sensuously I was caressing those perfectly dainty feminine toes.

Our conversation took its two month delayed course, getting to know each other better like most new roommates do in the first week.

"God! I can NOT warm up; red wine usually helps." Nicole cut herself off mid-sentence. She pulled her feet from my lap and shifted around on the couch like a dog trying to get comfortable. She finally got into a position where her legs were underneath her body, causing her to lean into me.

Our apartment was fully dark, save the glow of our 36" screen playing some rom-com Nicole had chosen. My hands still tingled from smooth nylon. All against the backdrop of a howling wind finding every seam around our windows. A romantic's dream in any other context.

My arm had a mind of its own and reached out to pull Nicole's shoulder into me. She compliantly leaned in, resting her head on my shoulder, "you're so warm." Her teddy bear blanket was enough to cover us both, with only our heads poking through. Our hands found each other as our conversation went silent.

Holding hands wasn't enough, they started to roam, mine up her torso and hers across my thigh. Nicole shifted even closer to me when I kissed the top of her head, the strawberry aroma filled more than my nose and seeped into my senses. I kissed the top of her head again. By the third time, she tilted her head up and found my lips. Her kiss was as soft as any girl I'd ever kissed, softer even, and somehow more feminine. The boobs? They were different; the saline firmness underneath her soft skin was foreign to me, but no less gratifying. Her welcoming response to my advances was everything. Her breathless response to my kiss launched her tongue into my mouth. I didn't want it to end.

It did end, or at least pause, when I gave in to Nicole's gentle pressure pulling at my knee. She audibly groaned into my mouth as her hand slipped into my waistband to caress my cock, her tiny thumb rubbing the pre-cum in a circular motion around my head. As if doing so before either of us could change our mind, I lifted up to let Nicole drop my sweatpants and kiss my cock. The light from the TV sparkled in the glitter of her always perfect makeup. Seeing those red lips stretch out to envelope me released a gasp I couldn't control.

Nicole shifted her body so she was facing toward me, cutting her eyes up to mine. I flipped her hair back and slid my other hand down her body. Caressing her breasts and pinching her nipples made her body twitch. It wasn't enough for her. Her knee slowly rotated upward. Her message was clear when she lowered her waistband and kicked her pajamas down onto the floor. I'm a guy with zero gay tendencies, but there was no vulgarity to it; hers was nothing like the hundred literal swinging dicks I'd seen in locker rooms all my life. This one was attached to a beautiful woman; perfect in color, shape and size. Women would have thrown themselves at it had life cast Nicole a different fate.

Nicole resumed working me over and it only seemed fair to make an effort to return the favor. My hand went where no straight man ever wants to go.

"Oh god yes!" Nicole gasped onto my own dick.

I wasn't doing much, my hand was just curiously feeling and caressing her girl-dick. Her body's visible reaction made me continue making her feel as good, almost I guess, as she was making me feel.

I started getting that telltale sensation; she could tell and promptly pulled away.

"Sorry, I just don't want you to go too soon."

I didn't argue, both of us were still in the moment. Returning to kiss me again was a disappointing appeasement to allowing me to finish. My own salty product joined the sensory cocktail of her kiss as her hand joined mine down below.

I knew what that sneaky bitch did; edging me kept me in the moment. Had she finished me off, the post-nut clarity would have ended my night. Keeping me on the edge revealed the trap I was in. There was only one way out and it was only fair. Nicole was now fully naked except her thigh highs, lying back against the opposite end of the couch, lazily stroking herself with her eyes fixed on mine, daring me to lean forward. I pulled her toes into my mouth in a last ditch attempt to avoid my fate. It backfired, only serving to inflame my desire.

Fuck it.

I kissed my way up her legs to her welcoming hands, pulling me into her. I surrendered to this definitively gay act. All I'd ever heard all my life about this depraved perversion went out the cold icy window. I went all in. Nicole deserved the best I had. It didn't feel like some benevolent act to make up for a lifetime of ridicule, it was for my own pleasure as much as hers. In spite of the cock currently gliding over my tongue, I still felt like I was pleasing a woman; and that still made me feel unwaveringly straight. In spite of having a dick in my mouth. I'm so confused.

Nicole accelerated much faster than I did; I guess her drought was longer than mine. I don't have much, but she grabbed what little hair I had and pulled me back announcing it was time. Her impressive product shot high into the air and landed on her tummy and tits as her body twitched. I was at once relieved and somewhat disappointed she didn't let me finish her off. I leaned back in again to take in the residual ooze, I guess just to show her I wasn't regretful.

She never skipped a beat, throwing herself into my lap again to aggressively finish me off. It didn't take long. Warning her as I did the first time only served to tighten her grip, as if I wanted to go anywhere. She briefly choked, gagged and swallowed all I had to give her. As quickly as she resumed, she got up and ran to her bedroom. I fortunately didn't hear any retching noises, just a slammed door. I only took one step toward her door before I thought better of it and hobbled to my own bedroom holding my sweatpants around my knees.

Then came the dreaded post-nut clarity. God what have I done? I caught a quick and unwelcome glimpse in the mirror to see Nicole's cum smeared across my shirt and abdomen, reminding me what I still felt in my mouth. Though she didn't finish in my mouth, my cleanup and what remained on her kiss left a salty taste and mouthfeel I thought would never go away. In spite of the chill in our apartment, I shed my clothes and took a few steps toward my shower - just in time for the power to go out. I could have showered in the dark just from the familiarity but chose to slip into bed instead, pondering the irrevocable line I'd crossed.

My thoughts then turned to Nicole. Surely she was feeling the same remorse that had washed over me; worse, did she think I'd forced myself on her? No matter how I replayed the evening, the wine buzz we shared could easily have landed differently on each of us. I picked up my phone and set it down a couple of times, having no idea what to say. It was starting to feel like a gross, impulsive act of lust as each minute passed. We had to live together at least 2 more months and there's no way we could carry on as if it never happened. There's only one way to make it into something that didn't make us both feel used. The fact that Nicole's bedroom bore the brunt of the storm front was a convenient enough excuse to send a text checking on her.

Me: Lights are out

Nicole: Yeah

Me: I'm freezing in here now, I can't imagine how cold you must feel.

Nicole: I'm bundled up. I'm fine

Me: Liar...

Nicole: I'm sorry

Me: For what?

Nicole: I didn't freak you out?

Me: Honestly, kind of

Nicole: I'm sorry, we were there and I just I don't know

Me: Nothing to be sorry for. I need to think things through and I need some help with that. Bring your teddy bear blanket

Nicole: Are you sure?

Me: As sure as you are cold. Seriously. I understand if you need some time though.

A petite silhouette darkened my doorway, backlit by ambient light peaking through the window in our common room. Nicole hastily threw her blanket across the bed and climbed in.

"I'm sorry, I hope I didn't..."

Those were the only words I got out before I felt Nicole's tongue thrust into my mouth. My hand ran down her bare back to her naked ass, pulling her into me. She speared my stomach, causing her to break the kiss with a giggle.

There was something about lying with their bodies pressed against one another in total darkness that felt utterly and completely normal.