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I’m living in a mixed-sex college dorm—separate bedrooms and toilets, but one big shared bathroom down the hall. Right next to my room lives this girl who is honestly so cute and has such a nice body it’s unreal. We became friends almost immediately, started hanging out constantly, and after a while I developed full-on romantic feelings for her. Our friendship got pretty intimate: late-night talks, shared meals, the works. One night I couldn’t hold it in anymore and confessed. She was sweet about it, said she’s not looking for a relationship at the moment, that she thinks I’m a great guy, and we can absolutely remain good friends. I said okay, even though deep down I still liked her a lot and, I’ll admit, occasionally had these benign sexual fantasies about her that ended with me masturbating thinking of her.
A little while later, a well-built and attractive guy (let’s call him A) moved in across the hallway, right facing my room, next to hers. The way the rooms intersect, my door sits between theirs but across the hall, so I can see both doors clear as day. A is athletic, built, and plays music loud, especially late at night. My crush complained to me about it once, said if A keeps being that annoying she’ll confront him. I told her to be careful, that considering A’s size it’s probably wiser to ask politely. When I mentioned A’s physical appearance, I noticed she paused for a second, like she was thinking something, but it didn’t seem horrible, so I didn’t dwell on it.
That same night, past midnight, the music was still going. I heard her door open and peeked through the spy-hole just in case. She came out angrily, wearing white socks pulled up to her calves, no shoes, those tight short shorts I secretly love because they shape her ass so perfectly, and a loose hoodie. She knocked on A’s door. A answered shirtless, only in boxers, and behind him on his computer facing the doorway was porn—a guy railing a petite girl. A’s dick was clearly visible through the loose fabric, and honestly, it looked quite large. I couldn’t hear everything, but my crush was asking him to turn the music down. Then she must’ve seen the porn too. They exchanged a few words, and A invited her in. Door closed. I didn’t hear her leave until maybe 2 or 3 in the morning.
After that night, our friendship stayed pretty much the same—we’d hang out occasionally during the day, grab food, study together. She never complained about A’s music again, even though A kept playing it loud. But I started noticing a pattern: three to five times a week, around 10 p.m. to midnight, sometimes lasting until 1 or 2 a.m., she’d slip over to A’s room. She’d dress casually, like that first night—tight shorts, barefoot sometimes, hoodie or crop top. One night she knocked on A’s door in a robe, hair still damp, clearly just out of the shower. Another night, same thing—robe again—but this time when A opened the door, she untied it right there in the hallway and flashed herself. I couldn’t see the front from my side of the peephole, but A clearly had a full view and smiled in this playful, knowing way and pulled her inside.
One day I was hanging out in her room, she stepped out for something and left me alone. I went to use her toilet and glanced under the sink. There was an opened 10-piece box of extra-large condoms, half empty, plus two more unopened boxes. Also lube, enema syringes, shaving tools clearly for private parts. A few days later, a package was delivered outside her door—from a company that makes sexy lingerie. The label said “red-leather-thin-line.”
Gradually, we started seeing each other less. Once I invited her to my birthday, but she said she was busy with studies. That night after I got back, though, I heard her voice inside A’s room—soft moans, rhythmic thuds, totally carnal. I have to admit, that during this whole time, I still, toxically, liked her, and even more toxically, masturbated to her more frequently, except not imagining me having sex with her, rather, A pounding a petite girl.
Then one morning I opened my door and there she was, walking out of A’s room. She had on a loose t-shirt, a tight black thong underneath that showed the full shape of her ass, and nothing else—no shorts, no shoes, just that. She saw me, gave an awkward little “hi.” A, still in the doorway, reached out and pinched her ass. My crush smiled shyly and hurried back to her room.
That same night, she knocked on my door wearing just a robe, clearly nothing underneath. She looked embarrassed, said it wasn’t easy to ask, but she knew I’d seen what was going on, and A had seen me seeing it too. Most importantly, she had explained to A that I once confessed my feelings to her, but she rejected me—I guess A liked it. So A sent her to invite me to his room—to watch him fuck her. Not participating, just watching. I paused, in a mind-hurricane. Seeing me being silent, in order to seduce me more, she unfastened her robe, the voluptuous nakedness I could only dream of, the breast, the curve or the waist and ass, freshly shaven. Her fingers was teasing her tits, she asked: so what do you say? And I gasped, what should I say…
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