#collegeroommates

Hello, I’m 23 years, my pronouns are she/her, and I run on eastern time. I’m looking for a 18+ long-term Roleplay partner. Looking for a partner who is interested in writing along side me in roleplays of many fandoms. I’m looking forward to coming up with something that we would both be interested in and really passionate about. I’d be interested in roleplay fandoms, but I wouldn’t mind roleplaying things such as Kings/Queens, College Roommates, Bad Guy/Good Girl, and many more those are just some ideas I’m throwing out there. Also just want to put this out there LGBTQ+ Friendly!! Though I only roleplay as females I wouldn’t mind a fxf canon. Down below are a list of things I would be interested in doing, but I’m honestly up for anything at this moment. I’m bored out of my mind and in need of some new roleplay people.

Here are some of the things I’d be interested in:

Harry Potter

Divergent

Hunger Games

College Roommates

Bad Boy/Nerd

Shameless

The After

When it finally stops, I’m wrecked.

My body is still trembling, tiny aftershocks rippling through my soaked pussy every few seconds. The Lush feels too much now, pressing against my oversensitive clit, but I don’t dare move yet. I’m leaking. A warm, sticky mess coats my inner thighs and the cushion underneath me. I can feel it cooling slowly against my skin, filthy and undeniable.

She’s still right there.

Scrolling peacefully, completely oblivious to the fact that I just came harder than I have in months while sitting two feet away from her. Her shoulder keeps brushing mine every time she shifts, that casual, familiar touch we’ve shared a thousand times on this same sofa. The one where we usually fight over the blanket or she steals my snacks without asking.

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The Lock

I’m sprawled across the sofa like I own it, legs parted just enough under this loose black dress, the Lush 4 pressed snug against my clit on its lowest setting. A slow, lazy throb. Not enough to make me moan, but enough to keep me slick and aching, warmth spreading through my belly with every pulse. My pussy keeps fluttering around nothing, greedy and empty, begging for more. I bite my lip harder, scrolling mindlessly through videos, half-watching, mostly just letting the steady hum melt me from the inside.

The apartment is quiet except for the low murmur from my laptop speakers. Sunlight pours in through the big windows, warm across my bare thighs. No panties, obviously. Why would I wear any when I’m home alone and dripping like this?

Then I hear it.

The key sliding into the lock.

My heart fucking stops.

The metallic click of the cylinder turning hits me like ice water down my spine. She’s supposed to be at the cinema. Two more hours at least. What the fuck is she doing back already?...

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Alternative Ending

I was asked many times to write an alternative ending to this story so the roommates hook up, and I agree. Here's another ending :)

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I can’t sit still.

Her thigh is still pressed against mine, warm and bare, and every tiny shift she makes drags the fabric of my dress higher up my legs. The wet spot is right there. I can feel the air hitting it now that the Lush is off. Cold. Sticky. Loud. My heart is still slamming against my ribs like it’s trying to climb out of my chest.

She yawns again. Longer this time. Her arm behind me tightens for a second, fingers brushing the back of my neck again, and I almost whimper. I bite it back. Barely.

Then she turns her head.

I feel the moment her eyes land on my face. I keep staring at the blank TV screen like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world, but I know what she sees. Flushed cheeks. Wet lower lip. Pupils blown. The way my chest is rising too fast.

“Alba?”

One word. Soft. Curious. I don’t answer. Her hand leaves the back of the sofa and slides down between us. Fingertips graze the side of my thigh. Higher. Higher. Until they brush the edge of the damp fabric between my legs.

She freezes. I feel the exact second she understands.

My stomach drops and flips at the same time. Heat floods my face so hard it hurts. I want to die. I want her to keep going. I want both so badly I can’t breathe.

She doesn’t pull away.

Her fingers press a little more firmly, just testing the wetness through the dress. A slow, deliberate stroke that makes my hips jerk without permission. A tiny, broken sound escapes my throat.

“Oh,” she whispers.

That’s all. Just ‘oh’.

Then her hand is under the hem. Palm flat against my bare thigh, sliding up until her fingers find the soaked cotton of my panties. She cups me. Gentle. Possessive. Like she’s always known she could. I can’t look at her. I can’t look away either. My eyes are locked on the side of her face, watching the way her mouth parts when she feels how wet I am.

“You’ve been doing this the whole time?” Her voice is low, almost calm, but there’s a new edge under it. Something darker. Hungrier.

I nod. Shameful. Desperate.

She presses two fingers against my clit through the fabric and I gasp so loud it echoes in the quiet dorm room. My head tips back against the sofa. My legs fall open without me telling them to....

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The Fall

I’m so close it hurts.

My thighs are shaking uncontrollably now, pressed so tight together that the Lush is locked firmly against my throbbing clit. Every steady pulse feels bigger, deeper, meaner. My pussy is clenching in frantic little waves, milking the toy even though there’s nothing to fill me. I’m dripping. Messy. The wet spot under my ass is definitely there now, warm and slick against my skin.

I’m going to come sitting right next to her.

The thought hits me like a slap and my whole body jerks. I barely manage to turn it into a small stretch, pretending I’m just shifting for comfort. She’s so close. Her bare knee is almost touching mine. I can smell the faint coconut scent of her body lotion and the salty trace of her skin after walking around the city.

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The Edge

It’s not loud. But it’s deep. Steady. Relentless.

The Lush is pressed so perfectly against my swollen clit that every pulse feels like it’s fucking me from the inside. My pussy won’t stop clenching. Tight, fluttering, greedy little spasms that push more slick out of me. I can feel it dripping now, slow and warm, sliding down my bare folds and onto the sofa cushion beneath my ass.

Heat floods my face. My cheeks are burning. My nipples are so hard they’re aching against the soft fabric of my dress, begging to be touched, pinched, anything. I don’t dare move my hands.

She shifts beside me.

Her leg stretches out lazily and her bare thigh almost brushes mine. I freeze completely. My breath locks in my chest. One more inch and she’d feel how hot my skin is. How tense I am. How fucking soaked I am.

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The Decision

I should turn it off. Right now.

My brain is screaming it at me. Slide my hand under the dress, find the little pink tail, kill the toy, sneak off to my room and finish like a normal fucking person.

But I don’t move.

This filthy, reckless idea explodes in my head and floods my whole body with heat. She’s right here. Exhausted, slouched, completely absorbed in her phone. The travel vlog murmurs softly from my laptop, waves crashing somewhere far away. The Lush is barely whispering on its lowest setting. A secret little hum only I can feel.

If I can’t hear it… she can’t hear it. Right?

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