Size Sorority: 1.7

Three days later, Dylan returned to the dorm room to find Sadie there on her own, and knew it was on. She sat cross-legged on her boyfriend’s bed, her laptop out in front of her, leaning forward and typing. She stopped when she saw him come in. He threw his bags on the chair in the corner, saying, “What are you doing here?”

Eyes still on her laptop, she said, “I’m meeting Steve.” He asked her when and she said, “Like in half an hour. Why?”

“I don’t know—are you my third roommate?”

“What do you mean?” Now she looked up at him.

He shrugged, showed her a concerned expression. “So, what—you’re just hanging out here today?”

Sadie smiled, then the smile went away, the girl not knowing if he was kidding or not. She decided he was kidding then smiled again. “I can be here if I want.”

“I should have my privacy.”

She laughed, returned her eyes to her laptop, challenging him: “What do you want to do that’s so private?”

“Private things that you don’t need to know about.”

“Well, I’m sitting here. Deal with it. Go on with your private things.”

He said, “Oh really?”

She looked up through her brows at him. “What? Is it really bugging you I’m here?”

“I just had class, I want to come back and chill out, you know . . .?”

“So chill out. What’s that got to do with me?”

“I don’t know,” he complained, “you’re sitting here—what am I going to do, lay down and you’re going to watch me?”

She said, “Who says I’m going to watch you?”

“I’ll feel like you’re watching me.”

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem—so turn your back then.”

“All right,” he said, then showed her a hint of a smile to prove that part of this was a ruse, that he might be an asshole but he wasn’t a hundred-percent asshole. He threw himself down on the bed, sat and stared at her.

She watched him a moment, then said, “What are you doing?”

“Just chilling out,” he said. “Why—does it bug you?”

“You’re just going to sit there and stare at me?”

“No—I’m staring at the wall, you just happen to be sitting in front of it.”

She let out an exasperated sigh and grumbled toward the ceiling, like he was a major aggravation. “What’s the big deal? What if it was Steve sitting here?”

He admitted: “Yeah, you’re right, I probably wouldn’t look at Steve.”

She rolled her eyes, but then licked her lower lip. A good sign. She even then ran her hair behind an ear and pretended to resume typing.

He said, “Why don’t you go meet Steve wherever he’s at right now?”

Exasperated, she growled, “What is that you have to do?”

“I like to jerk off when I get home.”

Boom.

She scoffed, then chuckled. Resumed typing. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

He said, “For real?”

“I don’t want to cramp your style,” she said, completely dry and flat. Like it was no big deal. But he knew her heart was racing. She still pretended to type.

“Cool,” he said, and eased himself back to lean on the wall, brought his pillow over to be comfortable, and rested an elbow on it. He brought a knee up to block Sadie’s view of his crotch, then made sure the sound of his zipper drawing down was nice and loud.

She frowned and looked up. “What are you doing?”

“I told you what I like to do when I get home.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, dubious, nodding and rolling her eyes and raising her eyebrows. Typing.

Now he dragged up his blanket from the foot of his unmade bed, put it in his lap. Waited for her to look up. When she did, he moved his hand underneath it like he was jerking off.

She shook her head. “You’re gross,” she said.

“You’re the one that’s gross, sitting here watching me do it.”

“I’m not sitting here watching you do it.”

“Then how do you know I’m doing it?”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” she said.

“You’re a fucking bitch.”

“I’m not leaving,” she said.

“Good,” he said, “I’m not stopping.”

“Have fun.”

“I’m totally having fun.”

She stayed silent for a while, not even pretending to type now, but pretending to read, her eyes moving lines across her laptop screen. He waited and then she looked at him. She said, “You’re watching me while you do it?”

“I’m just looking at the wall.”

She narrowed her eyes, said, “Is that what you normally look at when you jerk off? Walls?”

“Why are you so interested in what I do when I jerk off?”

She laughed, ran her hair back from her face, gathered it behind her head. The act of doing so lifted her elbows up high and showed off her breasts in her shirt. He wondered if she’d thought about seeing him today when she put those clothes on. Why was she here half an hour before Steve arrived? And was Steve even coming?

“That’s it, keep your elbows up,” he said, looking unabashedly at her breasts.

“Oh my God,” she said, very dramatically, dropped her arms then folded them over her breasts. “You’re a fucking pig.”

“Look who’s talking—the girl who comes into a guy’s dorm room to watch him jerk off.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she said, “you’re not even jerking off.”

“I totally am. Can’t you see I am?” He moved his hand under the blanket for emphasis.

“If you really are jerking off, you are a fucking pig.”

“If I am really jerking off, aren’t you a fucking pervert?”

She said, “I can guarantee you’re not jerking off.”

“Oh, like you know me so well,” he said.

“No—I don’t know you at all. I don’t even want to know you.”

He said, “It would be hilarious if I really was jerking off.”

She laughed, then said slyly: “I know you’re totally not.”

He said, “Come over and find out.”

And there: she showed a tiny smile.

“No fucking way,” she said, laughing.

“You’re so sure what I’m doing, come find out if you’re right or not.”

He’d given her a conundrum. And Sadie enjoyed it. Hesitant smile on her face, her eyes stayed right on his. He stared back with confidence.

She loved to see the confidence. Her cheeks were flushed, and she couldn’t stop smiling. At last she allowed herself to do what it was she came here to do but swore she wouldn’t. She stood up from the bed, hesitated again, playing with her hair behind her head, like she was going to tie a ponytail but had no tie to do it up with. She looked to the dorm room door. It was closed. Came closer, then sat down on his bed. He patted the spot next to him, and she said, “I’m not sitting next to you.”

“You don’t have to.”

And then she did. At least a little, scooting deeper onto his bed and sitting on one hip, her weight on a hand that was very close to his thigh.

She said, “So are you?”

“What do you think?”

“I told you you’re not,” she said.

He brought his hand out from under the blanket, put both hands at his sides, looked between his legs where the blanket was gathered. “Find out.”

“Gross—what if you were?” She turned up her nose at the idea of him jerking off under the blanket.

“Then I’d be right and you’re a pervert.”

“No, I’m not,” she said in a sing-song.

“Find out if you’re a pervert or not,” he said, nudging his chin toward where the blanket was gathered over his crotch.

She said, “I’m not pulling the blanket back.”

“Okay,” he said, “do you mind if I keep going then?” He moved a hand like he was looking for her okay before slipping it under the blanket to complete the deed.

Now she moved her hand, pinched the fabric of his blanket, but was too scared to raise it.

He said, “What if we’re both right?”

She raised a slender eyebrow. “How can we both be right?”

“You tell me.”

She frowned at him. “I don’t know.”

“Move the blanket.”

Cautiously, she peeled it back—when she saw his huge flaccid penis laying on his leg, she gasped, and thrust back the blanket to cover it. “Oh my God,” she said, “your dick is totally out!”

“I told you it was.”

“You’re a pig,” she said.

“I wasn’t even jerking it,” he said.

“Your dick’s out.”

“It’s not even hard,” he said, “that’s what I mean what if we’re both right. I had it out, but I wasn’t jerking off.”

“You’re still a pig,” she said—not retreating from his bed.

“And you’re a pervert,” he said and laughed. “We’re both right, just like I said.”

She shook her head. Then: “That’s not even hard?”

“No,” he said, “not even a little—I was just goofing around.”

She returned her gaze his way, then looked down where her hand was near the blanket. She pinched the fabric again, and was less hesitant this time: She peeled the blanket away and looked at his dick. He’d got his fly open, and brought his dick out. It lay huge and soft on the dark fabric of his denim. She marveled at it for a moment, not saying anything but showing it in her expression.

“You have a huge dick,” she said and chuckled.

“I know.”

She laughed and said, “Yeah, I guess you know.”

“I’ve had it for a while.”

She still stared. “That is so huge, dude—it’s not even hard?”

“Nope.” He quick-flexed a butt muscle to get his penis to flop on his leg a little. She snuffled laughter. He said, “You can touch it.”

“Gross. You’re such a pig.”

“You love it,” he said.

“No, I don’t,” she said, blushing, smiling, eyes glistening. She ran her hair back again, brought her hand down to the blanket very near his penis. She looked briefly toward the door though she couldn’t see it, then lightly tapped her fingers on the side of his cock.

“Hold it,” he said, “see that it’s soft.”

“I’ve never seen such a huge dick,” she said.

“Go on and hold it.”

She checked the dorm room door again, then slowly put her hand on his cock, tucking a thumb underneath, and lifting it tentatively. She tested its weight, felt it’s boneless shape. “It’s not even hard,” she said.

“You should see it when it’s hard.”

She snuffled laughter again. “How big does it get?”

“Really big,” he said.

Now she set it down on his leg, and petted it like it was a cat, running from base to tip in soft strokes. His cock rolled over, and his foreskin began to retract.

“Ew, gross, you’re getting hard,” she said.

“Keep touching it.”

She smiled still, wide, showing her teeth, licking her lower lip, her fingers still running from base to tip, stroking him and petting him. Veins began to rise on its surface, and Sadie watched it roll over more on his leg and begin to lengthen.

“Oh my God, you’re the pervert,” she said, laughing, then scooting off the bed. She was on the verge of bursting out laughing, acting like she was mad at him for making her do that. She checked the door of the dorm room, then returned to Steve’s bed, sat down still with that joyous looking face.

“You’re cruel,” he said, and showed her a downturned mouth.

“Finish it yourself,” she said.

“Too bad Steve’s going to be here soon.”

“Why?”

“You were doing pretty good,” he said, taking his dick and slowly stroking it, letting the end flop around.

“Oh my God—are you still doing it?”

“You got me going,” he said.

Under her breath, she murmured, “Such a pig,” and scooted back to lean against Steve’s wall, her legs out straight now. She put her laptop on her thighs, and began fingering the mouse pad. But soon her eyes were looking up to see what he was doing.

He jerked himself while watching her, smiling, meeting her eyes when she looked up, enjoying the feeling when her eyes were on his growing manhood as it flopped in his grip.

“Can you please stop?” she said.

“Can’t concentrate?”

“You’re making me feel really weird.”

“You’re making me feel weird,” he said, then holding up his cock and wagging it for her to see.

She looked at it then blocked her view, saying, “Sto-op.”

“Okay,” he said, letting his dick drop down to his leg. “But I was really close.” He smiled until she returned one too.

She said, “What’s your name?”

He told her.

She said, “You are a fucking weirdo, Dylan.”

He said, “What’s your name?”

“You know it’s Sadie.”

“Good, just making sure—I'm gonna tell all my friends what a pervert Sadie is.”

“Don’t you dare,” she said, smiling, playing with her hair.

“Looks like we have each other over a barrel.”

She cocked her head. “Is that a double-entendre?”

“Why—you want to be over a barrel?”

She was preparing a witty response when their dorm room door opened. She jumped, and her face changed from happy to frightened in a second. “Shoot,” she whispered, and her attention snapped immediately to her laptop.

He pulled the blanket over to cover his dick. She brightened, looked to Steve when he came in, smiling for her boyfriend but revealing an unintentional amount of guilt.

Steve said, “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I’m waiting for you,” she said.

Steve looked to her, must have registered the rosiness of her cheeks and the gleam in her eyes. He looked Dylan's way and scowled. “How long have you been here?”

“I just got out of class,” he said, “come back here to find out your girlfriend’s my third roommate.”

Steve scowled deeper. “She can come here if she wants.”

Sadie smirked at him in a way that he liked—the two of them shared a secret from her boyfriend.