I still get wet thinking about that first semester. It started the night my roommate went home for the weekend and left me alone in our tiny double with nothing but a half-empty bottle of vodka and my own fingers. I was eighteen, horny as hell, and tired of pretending I was the good girl from high school. The walls were thin. I knew the guys next door could hear everything. So I turned the lights off, stripped naked on my bed, and started touching myself loud enough that they’d know.
The first time I came, I moaned “fuck” like I was begging for it. Ten minutes later someone knocked. It was Jake from across the hall, tall, quiet, always staring at my tits in class. He didn’t say much when I opened the door in just a tank top and panties. He just pushed inside, kicked the door shut, and told me to get on my knees. I did. His cock was already hard when I pulled it out. I sucked him like I’d been practicing on toys for weeks, sloppy and deep, spit running down my chin while he held my hair and fucked my throat.
When he pulled me up and bent me over my desk, I was dripping. He shoved inside me in one rough thrust and I came again almost immediately, clenching around him while he called me a filthy little college slut. He didn’t last long. He filled me up, pulled out, and left without saying goodbye. I stayed bent over the desk, his cum leaking down my thighs, already wondering who would be next.
The next weekend it was two of them. Jake brought his roommate. They didn’t ask. They just walked in while I was studying in a tiny pair of shorts. I didn’t stop them when they pulled the shorts down and took turns licking my pussy on the bed. One ate me until I was shaking, then the other flipped me onto my stomach and fucked me from behind while I sucked the first one clean. They talked about me like I wasn’t there, calling me their dorm whore, telling each other how tight I was, how I was already addicted to cock after one week. I came so hard I soaked the sheets.
By midterms I had a rotation. Tuesdays were for the quiet guy who liked to tie my wrists to the bed frame with his belt and edge me for an hour before he let me come. Thursdays were for the basketball player who bent me over the sink in the shared bathroom and fucked me while people walked past the door. Fridays were for whoever showed up with friends. I stopped wearing panties to class. I let them use my mouth between lectures in empty stairwells. One afternoon I let three guys take turns on me in the laundry room while the machines ran. I walked back to my dorm with cum on my breath and fresh handprints on my ass.
The best night was right before finals. My roommate was gone again. I invited four of them over, no rules. They stripped me the second the door closed. I spent the whole night on my back, on my knees, on all fours. One guy fucked my pussy while another used my mouth. They passed me around like a toy, calling me their favorite college girl fucktoy, telling me how many times they’d jerked off thinking about me. I lost count of how many times I came. My voice was hoarse from moaning. By morning I was covered in their cum, sore, shaking, and already planning the next weekend.
I never felt ashamed. I felt powerful. Every time I walked across campus the next day with that ache between my legs, I knew exactly who I was. I was the girl they all wanted. The one who’d let them do anything. And I wasn’t done yet.
