diary entry: December 2011 - hallmate The hipster from down..

diary entry: December 2011 - hallmate

The hipster from down the hall Facebook chats you and you flirt a little because it is 1:30 am and why the hell not. You have always found him attractive, slender hips beneath tight caramel corduroy skinny jeans. He invites you over and you knock at his door and he lets you in, wearing only gray cotton pj bottoms and a sleepy expression. You crawl in bed with him, melting into the memory foam, and he pulls the covers over you both and tells you to turn off the light so you can see the stars. You laugh, you can’t help it. ‘That’s your move, isn’t it? I know because that’s mine too.’ He points out that you’re already in his bed.

You turn off the light and kiss him, not sure how this happened but running with it because it’s not like you haven’t thought about it before. The two of you are an even match, and you press back and forth and he blows wet across your earlobe as you pinch his nipple. He’s all smooth skin and brown hair and you wonder idly if your type is changing. He kisses a path slowly, torturously down your stomach, little butterfly whispers across your hips, and you think you might die right here, your fingers furled tight into the sheets. You pull him back up, bad timing, can’t now. Even so he weaves his fingers down your polar bear pajamas and under your panties, groaning a little when he finds you slick and sensitive against his fingers. It’s tempting to let him, to forget about the time of the month, especially when you suspect he would be brilliant, but you tell him no, rain check.

You stroke him with increasingly nimble fingers and it’s not long before the planes of his chest are slick with cum. It’s the most satisfied you’ve felt all semester, hearing him come apart. For a while you lie together, looking out his window at the lit up trees against a purple sky. He doesn’t give you a straight answer when you ask if this is something he’d thought of before or just some intoxicated whim. ‘I’m sober, does that answer your question?’

You kiss him goodnight and tell him wryly that he knows where you live.

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