The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

For the most part, freshman move-in day at Higgins Hall was no different from Rowland. It was a hot August day, and humid, and for ten hours I was baked alive on the parking lot’s fresh coating of black asphalt, directing parents and students and being the warm, welcoming face of Lakeview. Bob and the big wigs at the Lakeview Housing & Residence Life office had sprung for staff t-shirts, these ungodly itchy things that stank like a urinal cake when you sweated in them, which the other RAs and I had all achieved by nine. Between the usual headaches of moving and the added drama of parents saying fare-thee-well to offspring and vice versa, people were not at their best. Experience helped some, but when it came to some random kid’s dad shouting at me and the Higgins Ground RA Vickie about insufficient parking spaces, there was bound to be some gritting of teeth.

For me, anyway. Vickie handled her stress in other ways. “You know, you might want to run out and grab lunch. I’ve radioed the campus parking authority, and they said they’d have the additional spots airlifted in by noon at the latest.”

“That they’d… what? They can do that?”

I smiled, and didn’t quite elbow her. “She’s just trying to add some levity to a stressful day, sir. The parking lot is designed for the number of residents parking here, not the number of residents moving in on the busiest day of the year. We’re keeping things moving the best we can.” I forced a laugh I’d been saving for my first floor meeting tonight. Reserves were being tightly rationed. “But if they air lift some in, we’ll let you know ASAP.”

The joke failed to land a second time. “You some kind of wise-ass, kid?”

Ramona swooped in to save me in the nick of time, taking the man aside and giving him the chance to vent his frustrations and “file a formal complaint” about my attitude. I knew as well as she did that the official process for such complaints was for her to listen to them, then promptly disregard their ever having been uttered. I flashed her a look of gratitude over the father’s shoulder, and she thumbs-upped me behind her back. Then I got back to work, notifying a young woman whose bong was visibly protruding from one of her boxes that, while the state had legalized it, campus housing hadn’t, and she didn’t look twenty-one besides.

She thanked me, then went back to her car to find another way to smuggle it in. The annual dance between stoners and RAs commenced.

Parking lot duty was arguably the hardest assignment on the hardest day. For Vickie’s shenanigans, Ramona soon came back to reassign her to the center desk. A nice reward for misbehavior, that. That left the parking lot team with myself, Savannah and Janis. Janis gave me headaches, most times. During the past two weeks of RA training, she’d struck me as the sort of RA who followed and enforced rules with equal blindness. Her fastidiousness came in handy that day, however, nagging foot traffic up and down the appropriate stairwells, sweating dads and daughters filtering in and out smoothly.

Savannah was a ray of sunshine on any occasion, a girl so hot that people were basically always nice to her, which had in turn made her basically always nice. When yet another surly, red-faced dad demanded an explanation about the insufficient parking spots—the fifth so far that day—Savannah patted his shoulder gently and said, “I know, it is frustrating. I’m sorry.”

That was it. Just that, and the man walked away smiling like she’d solved his problem. I don’t think she even knew the effect she had on people. It made her easy to like, I thought, or else maybe I was falling victim to it as much as the rest. Meanwhile Savannah kept our water bottles full and disarmed most of the gruffest sorts with her thousand-watt smile.

One of the frustrations of move-in day, however, was that while my whole floor was moving in while I was stuck outside directing traffic. Not my whole floor, technically; the upperclassmen were cleared to move in a few days later, once the freshman had settled and gone through the bulk of orientation. Higgins was pretty heavily slanted to freshmen, though. My kids were up there forming first impressions, and I wasn’t allowed to be a part of them. It stung.

A little after four, things had slowed down enough that the remaining arrivals were deemed capable of handling it on their own, leaving Ramona and Marcus to troubleshoot. We were dismissed from our formal duties. Having sweated off a couple thousand calories, I joined Savannah, Carmen and Vanessa for an early dinner across the street at the Penderdast food court. Then, finally, it was back to Higgins 3 to meet and greet my people.

About half an hour later, I’d met, or at least seen, my residents, and was on the phone in my room with Ramona.

“There’s something seriously wrong here.”

“Huh? Who is this? Spencer?”

“Yeah, it’s Spencer.”

“You said something’s wrong? Is it an emergency? Everyone safe?”

“Everyone’s fine. But everyone’s also… Look. There’s a problem. I have thirty-two of my thirty-eight residents accounted for, but nobody said… I mean, they’re… Everybody’s…!”

“Deep breaths, Spencer. It’s OK. Deep breaths. You were in the sun an awful lot. Get some water, all right? Do you have any?”

“I don’t need water. I need… I need men!”

There was a pause. A longer pause. Then a gently teasing laugh. “I’m not sure I can help you there, my friend, but there are apps where you can—”

“Har har.” I really did like her. Ordinarily, her easy sense of humor was endearing. Not at that moment, though. “I’m serious. My roster didn’t have much more than names on it. So far, every last resident on my floor is female!”

“Every… what? No, that’s not right. What do you mean? Literally, every?”

“Every,” I repeated gravely. “All female. No exceptions. I mean, me, but… that’s it.”

The line was quiet enough that I could hear her tapping keys. In her office, no doubt. Probably taking her own water/mental health break. Hopefully looking for an answer for me, though it didn’t occupy her enough not to give me a nudge. “I suppose I should remind you they’re all women. We don’t check their genitals to find out whether they’re all female.”

I grit my teeth. I wasn’t a transphobe, but I was also not in the mood to spar with her over the verbiage. “All women, then. Did you know about this? Is it a mistake?”

“I definitely didn’t know about it. You’re sure…? No, of course you’re sure. But that’s just… Your floor is coed, Spencer. Bob was emphatic about it. The other directors overseeing the pilot floors and I met about it multiple times this summer. It’s coed.”

“Well I’m here, so technically it still is. But this is pretty messed up right now.”

More typing. Then, “I’m looking into it Spencer. When I know something, I’ll pass it along. For now, just go with it, act like this was the plan. If your women have concerns, reassure them that the university is looking into it and we’ll be in touch soon.” Ramona let out a sigh so heavy that even on speaker phone, it zinged my ears a bit. “Thank goodness this is your floor and not one of the newbies. I’m counting on you Spencer. Take a deep breath, get that drink, and then get back out there and work your magic. Can you do that for me?”

If her ignorance was disappointing, my manager’s faith was the slap in the face I needed to snap me out of my funk. “Yeah. Don’t worry about a thing.” I sounded a great deal more confident than I was.

Projecting confidence you didn’t feel was a core RA skill. I was a skilled RA.

I took that deep breath she’d prescribed, chasing it with a bottle of water from my mini-fridge. Act like this was normal. It ought to be simple enough. Girls weren’t scary or anything. Marisa had once spontaneously choked me during sex, completely unasked. With gusto. Just to see if it turned either of us on. (It had not.) Women didn’t frighten me. What I hadn’t told Ramona, however, was that not only were my residents exclusively female, but they were also only somewhat less exclusively… hot.

That’s not to say they were all perfect 10’s. Individually, most of them would turn heads, and some would even stick in your mind for a time after. But they were cute girls, and it was move-in day, so sweaty and labor-intensive though it was, they’d made sure to look good doing it, and to their credit, they looked good. Yes, there were a comforting handful who were… normal looking, I guess you could say. Next to their peers, they looked almost aberrant for having imperfect skin and breasts that obeyed the law of gravity. Still, from what I’d seen, the newly arrived ladies of Higgins 3 were sporting at least an 8 average. Easily. It was an anomaly.

I would have thought it was some kind of prank, but nobody had ever gone to this much trouble to prank someone before. Even so, it would be a lie to say I didn’t glance around for a hidden camera as I patrolled the floor. No recording devices that I could see, however; there were only freshmen students puzzling over why their door tags had been misspelled with the male versions of their names. Terry and Tony had turned out to be Terri and Toni. Joe had indeed arrived as Jo. It made no sense.

There was nothing to do about it right this minute, though. For the time being, I wended between the rooms, making introductions and trying to put names to faces. Tonight, I would do my best to make them feel welcome and excited to start their college journeys.

The more I thought about it, the more dead-ended it seemed. Surely when Bob and the Housing & Res Life pro staff came into the office tomorrow, they would fix this. Whether that meant correcting their mistake and replacing half of these girls with the intended boys, or, more likely, redesignating Higgins 3 as a women’s floor and sending me elsewhere. The more I thought about it, the more likely the second option seemed. Piss off one lowly employee, or a dozen newly arrived freshmen and their families by making them move twice in two days.

I tried not to let it get to me. The only way I kept my chin up was to keep my mind on the mission. These young women had just taken their first steps into the rest of their lives, and I was here to get them off to the best possible start. They didn’t deserve to have their first impression of Lakeview tainted by some mopey guy who was dreading trying to restart his final year mere hours into its beginning.

No. Tonight, these girls were going to move past their anxiousness, forget the homes they’d left that morning, and make a goddamn lifelong friend or two. That was what I was here to do, and until I was relieved of my duties, I was going to take care of these women like they were my own for the year.

Before long, it was time for the first floor meeting. I looked forward to it every year. I was the sort of guy who you could miss in a crowd but fed off an audience, and a group of freshmen all eager to make good impressions and learn the ropes was about the most receptive audience a guy could hope for. I’d put up signs and made sure everybody was aware. Parents, too, if I could catch them before they buggered off. Getting Mom and Dad to nag them into attending my Very Important Move-In Day Meeting was pretty much the one time of the year I got to appeal to a higher authority than Ramona and the student judicial board.

“WE’RE GETTING TOGETHER IN THREE MINUTES!” I bellowed my invitation (that was really a summons) down both sides of the hall, then made my way to our floor lounge and waited for my residents—my girls—to filter in.

In they came. Some came in pairs, new roommates presenting a united front. Most entered alone. The couches filled quickly, then the arm chairs, then the desk chairs. Soon, there was nowhere left but the floor. The late-comers in dresses and skirts bashfully asked those already seated if they could swap, glancing pointedly at the sole male occupant of the lounge.

Here was my final confirmation that I hadn’t missed a secret dude or two in the chaos of move-in day. I stood there in front of a wall of unmistakable femininity.

The assembly didn’t do much to diminish what was for me a dizzying array of womanly forms. I’d been drilling myself for weeks not to let myself get caught up checking out any of my residents. Maybe that makes me sound like a pig that I had to make an effort, but I’d been single for a long time. Heck, I’d caught myself checking out Ramona once or twice during training (to say nothing of my fellow RAs), and she was my married boss. Since meeting Dana and her mom the night before, I’d redoubled my commitment.

Now that I was on my way to being reassigned, though, I let myself at least acknowledge the obvious reality in front of me. Diversity, the guiding star of the Residence Life field, was alive and well in that lounge. We had sweet faces, sexy faces; big tits, perky tits; tight asses, round asses; skinny waists and wide hips; short hair and long; fair-skinned and dark; elegant and casual; tattooed and pierced and ringed and unadorned.

I’d retained a few names. Dana, of course, sitting with the cheerleader across the hall from her. (Sammi, maybe?) Sydney, a petite girl with a healthy tan and sparkling blue eyes. Katrina, who had humbly introduced herself as salutatorian of her high school class (of over 800 students, no less!). Andy—Andi, probably, likely another of those deceptive misgendering misspellings—who had been fighting down tears of homesickness when we’d met. Casey, exploring the extreme end of the spectrum of waist to breast size ratio, and her roommate Amy, whose boobs were practically nonexistent, but suited her shy, tremulous smile. Kim, one of our normal-looking girls, who’d greeted me with a firm handshake. Quinn, who had already added me on facebook, instagram, tiktok and snapchat within the first two minutes of meeting her in what I professionally deemed an impressive display of trust in her RA’s attitude toward online surveillance.

“Come on in, everybody. Get cozy, make space. Welcome welcome, and welcome.”

The room remained pretty quiet aside from my corralling them into place. After all, for the time we were strangers in a strange land. That would change soon. Sooner, if I could stop thinking about the ambient hotness and start thinking about fixing their anxiousness. There was an added sense of unease in the room beyond first day jitters, however. It built with the addition of each fetching face. These women had picked up on the same thing I’d picked up on. About five after, I unpropped the lounge door and began by addressing that elephant in our room.

“Good evening, ladies and gent—” Oops. I’d been rehearsing this speech for days now. “Ladies of Higgins 3! Many of you I’ve met, but if I haven’t, my name is Spencer Lawrence. I’m your resident assistant, or RA. Now, before we get into introductions and what are we doing and where do we go from here, let’s start with what I can see some of you are already wondering.”

“Where da boys at?” called Casey, following it with a classy “ow OW!”

“Well put. So yeah, short version? There aren’t any, except me, and I don’t have an answer for you. This wasn’t what I was told to expect, either. Don’t worry, though. I’ve notified our hall director, a kick-ass lady named Ramona, and she’s getting to the bottom of this mixup. We’ll have information soon. Probably not tonight,” I speculated, “since we didn’t really confirm all this until I was making the rounds a little bit ago. As soon as I know something, you’ll know something.”

“Are we going to have to move again?” asked another girl I didn’t recognize, a round-faced doll with enormous, pillowy tits. I swear, I don’t normally even notice things like this, at least not to fixate on it. I was on hottie overload or something. The combination of the August heat and a day of sweaty labor meant there was a lot of flesh hanging out. I was doing my best not to dwell on them. On it, I mean. It. Not them.

“I hope not. I don’t think so? But I don’t get to make that call. I’ve been doing this job for a handful of years now, though, to be honest, it’s much more likely they’ll move me and leave you all where you are. That’s pure guesswork, though. I’d say if you’re nervous about it, maybe go light on the unpacking, but you’ve seen your rooms, now. They’re not that big. Doesn’t take long to re-pack and move if it happens, which again, it probably won’t.”

Another girl spoke up, a snotty-looking brunette whose good looks almost justified her entitled sneer. “How could something like this happen? My housing letter said I was on a coed floor. I specifically requested one. My parents are paying good money for this. It isn’t right.”

“Yeah, I have three sisters at home. I was kinda looking forward to trading some estrogen in for testosterone,” added Quinn, a dark-haired girl with sharp features.

The room quickly became a cacophony of opinions. The pervading sentiment was dissatisfaction; a handful were of the opinion that an absence of a bunch of brutish apes in their midst was a positive. (One of those, an impressively top-heavy Asian girl—woman—with pink stripes dyed into her hair, had the grace to exempt present company from that diagnosis.) After allowing them to vent, I raised my hand and asked for their attention again. There had been voices in the din expressing outrage at the circumstance of a group of women being supervised in their own homes by a strange man, so I was trying to be sensitive to that sentiment. Frankly, I empathized. It wasn’t merely bad optics; it was a bad policy.

Before long, they let me have the floor again. “Look, I know this is weird. I don’t know what other word to use for it. I wasn’t expecting it either. But here we are, right? For now, my number one concern is you guys—sorry, girls—sorry, women—having a good start to your new life at Lakeview. So for now, the hell with it, OK? Maybe tomorrow you’ll have a new RA or some new neighbors, but tonight, here we are, and let’s rock out. You with me?”

There was a positive, if tepid, response, so I amped it up. “I said, are you with me?!” The few who’d made noise before made a little more. Some grins, some grim. “I can’t hear you! Who’s with me?! Come on, who’s with me?”

It didn’t take much of that to bring things to a stony silence. Then I abandoned the act and let them in on it. “I’m kidding, everybody. See, ’cause that’s what a dude might say to a floor of dude-bros, and you’re… get it? Come on, I’m kidding. You’re going to have a great time here. I promise.”

The levity did the trick. The room had a healthy amount of grins and giggles now. Then someone raised a hand. “Oh, I was going to take questions at the end, but if it’s about the current subject…?”

The girl nodded. Fuck, she was gorgeous. Great body, but her face was next goddamn level… Damn. “Yeah, um, you said your roster didn’t list gender… Did it list names?”

“Did it…? Um, yeah? That’s kind of what a roster is.” I chuckled self-consciously.

“OK, because my name is misspelled on my door. So is my roommate’s, and so are a bunch of other girls’.”

I frowned. That was a good point. It had occurred to me that we had a fair number of gender-blind names, but some of those were unambiguously male. “Oh. OK, and—sorry, but I’ve met like a hundred people today so I’m still learning names. You are…?”

“Terri. Terri with an I. And my roommate is Toni, also with an I.” The girl beside her, presumably Toni, nodded firmly.

Another girl spoke up, a curly-haired girl with a sparkling stud in her left nostril and a tattoo of an arrow up her forearm. “Mine too. Nikki, but it says ‘Nick.’”

Other murmurs followed. What the fuck was going on? The gender mishap was one thing, but misspelling their names? How the hell does that happen? “All right. I’m going to pass around a notepad. I was going to use it for room problems anyway, so feel free to list those if you have any. You know, lights burned out, something missing, whatever. Just add the door tags to the list, and I will get them corrected. So let’s get that moving while we start getting to know each other, yeah?”

Icebreakers commenced. We learned a little bit about each other. Two of them, Charlie and Ellie, planned to take on the same major as me. Once Peyton opened up about being a little homesick, every other girl after her echoed the sentiment until I pivoted to a little speech about how many of us missed our families, so now we needed to make sure we’re being good to each other and taking care of one another, our families away from home.

I pointed to the cloth banner hanging over the door, crafted during RA training during a session in which we each developed a theme for our floor. We Are Family, it read. I got to drink in a few grateful tears. Cheesy, sure, but folks get emotional on move-in day. A cheesy banner was better fodder for greetings than everyone dwelling on how much they missed their pets. Whatever helps.

“Just as long as I never have to hear you ask us who is our daddy,” joked Sammi—Sam, on my roster—but good-naturedly.

The meeting went smoothly from there. I’m not sure where I won them over, but the ladies of Higgins 3 warmed to me as much as my all-dude floors had in years past. More so, maybe. We covered the boring stuff. Orientation, scheduling roommate agreements and RCR checks, and yes, behavioral expectations and my role in them. Nobody likes a lecture about the rules, but like in years past, it did make people feel better knowing the do’s and don’t’s. I’d seen coworkers skimp on it in the past so they could avoid coming off as draconian during first impressions, but it only led to miserable residents taking things into their own hands when they didn’t know or trust the system.

“All right, that’s more than enough listening to male voices on our inexplicably female floor, right?” A few whoops from the more ardent feminists went up. “The rest of the night is yours. If you need anything, my door is always open, OK? Literally. If it’s three in the morning and you need something, I’m your guy. So hang out, meet people, make some new friends—”

“Sisters!” amended the room’s only chubby girl, whose name I was suddenly embarrassed to have forgotten. She pointed at my banner.

I raised a fist to her in salute. “Sisters indeed. I’ll be leading a campus tour with some folks from elsewhere around Higgins, leaving after we head over to get lunch at eleven. Join us—we’ll make it fun, get to see where your classes are, and other cool and useful stuff around campus. For now, I’m so glad to meet all of you, I’m so glad you’re here with us at Lakeview and in Higgins Hall, and most importantly, I’m finally really shutting up.” There were a few more cheers, but more than a few girls flashed me a smile on their way out of the lounge.

At least I’d made a good impression. Once they transferred me, maybe I’d have a shot with one of them.

For a while, I burned what little energy I had left roaming the floor, looking for folks who looked like they could use some help meeting people and getting them out of their rooms. It’s always a rough day for introverts, move-in day. I’m a bit of one myself, but hanging out in your room was all well and fine once one handled the urgent business of having a friend in the world.

This was a good group of women, too. Doors were open, people milling about complimenting each other’s décor, hair, or whatever other pretext they could find to start a conversation on a bright note. The magic was happening. Up and down these halls, people were making connections that would see them through college, maybe through life. In all that, I’d played some tiny role. Temporary or no, it felt good.

Content that I’d greased the wheels and done my job for what would likely be the brief window in which I ran Higgins 3, I made my way to my room, kicked off my clothes, and collapsed into bed.

My eyes were just closing when the door to my room opened. There was no knock. It simply opened. Before I could so much as squawk, there was a young woman in my room. It took me a moment to recognize her in the dim light filtering in from the hallway. Quinn, the name came to me. The one who’d social-mediaed the hell out of me earlier. By now I’d accepted friend requests from half the girls on Higgins 3, but she’d been the first.

“Heya, Spencer,” she said as she strode right in. She sniffled for a moment, wiped her nose on the back of her hand, and kicked the door shut behind her. It was dark, but she rectified that as well, flipping on the light as casual as if it had been her own bedroom. That I was lying in bed and at the very least shirtless didn’t impede her at all. Thank goodness I’d had the sheets on over my lower half, or she would have learned even more.

“Quinn, right?”

“Guilty as charged. I was trying to find some stuff on this campus map they gave us, and I’m getting super dizzy.”

“Oh. Sure. How can I help?” I sat up against my headboard, careful to keep my sheets in place.

Uninvited, unashamed, unaware, Quinn came around to the open side of my bed, positioned in one corner against the wall by the door. She plopped right down like I’d offered her a seat. Suddenly I was living in slow motion, a mouth-wateringly rounded ass sinking down right toward me, a tramp stamp of angel wings on display in the wide gap between her crop top and jean shorts. It settled in right next to me—and I mean right next to me, her butt nestled up against my hip.

Quinn unfolded her Lakeview campus map, leaning around so we could both see it. Twisted and leaning like that, I had an amazing view down her shirt. Her black bra had been obvious under that white top, but now there it was, a foot and a half from my face, unobstructed. She ought to be able to feel my breath on them from this close.

“I wonder if you could help me find something.”

“Oh. Um, yeah, sure. Though we’re doing a campus tour in the morning. Maybe you’d rather—”

“What, am I bugging you? Sorry, I thought you said this was cool.”

“Yeah. I mean, sure. So, what were you looking for?”

I tried to listen as she chatted me up about her geographical issues. It was a common problem; the School of Engineering was this nifty little subterranean bunker of a thing, and another academic building was situated on top of the hill it was built into. I clarified the markings for her, trying not to think about the warmth, the softness, against my leg. How little separated us.

Only then, she scampered directly over my body and seated herself on the far side of my bed, leaning against the wall, legs folded. All it meant was that now her shins were against my left hip instead of her ass on my right. What was even happening? And how many times had I asked myself that in the past twenty-four hours?

“So. Old guy to new girl, be straight with me. Is Lakeview actually cool, or is it all study study study all the time?”

“Um, it’s pretty cool, most of the time. And hey, could you not wear those in my bed?” I pointed.

Quinn’s eyes widened in offense. “What? Did you just ask me to take my shorts off? That’s really inappropriate!”

“Your… what?! No! No, the shoes! The shoes, holy shit, not your… The shoes!”

Then she burst into giggles and went right to work on the laces, kicking them off the end of the bed. “I was teasing. You should have seen your face! I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I? I don’t know the protocol and all that shit yet. You just said come on in any time, so. I came in.”

I had said that, hadn’t I. Shit, even my guy residents had at least knocked first, though! “Don’t sweat it. I just had a long day. Hot out, especially on the asphalt, you know? I don’t usually call it this early. You’re fine.”

“Oh, I’m ‘fine,’ am I? That’s how you talk to one of your female floormates?”

“What? No, I meant, you’re cool, like—” I stopped myself as her grin widened. “And I’ve fallen for it twice in a row, now.”

“Sorry, I’ll stop. Unless you want me to keep going.” She winked, but again with the giggles immediately after. In fact, Quinn laughed hard enough at her own joke that she rolled to her side, lying down beside me.

“So you’re a super senior, huh?”

“Super duper, actually. Sixth year.”

“Holy… How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Damn, son! Surprised they still let a silver fox like you live in the dorms.”

I rolled my eyes at her teasing, and tried hard to not acknowledge the flirting. This girl, this freshman girl with her kissable little beauty mark on her cheek, with shorts riding up higher and higher the more she rubbed her thighs together, was in my bed. With me in it.

With me in it naked.

What the fuck.

“What can I say, I know which asses to kiss. Who could say no to this mug, right?” I made sure my smile was the least charming I could manage.

Quinn grinned. “You know, I think you might actually be pretty cool. Katie, my older sister, she told me RAs were basically just amateur narcs. Guess she was never smart enough to hop into bed with hers, huh?”

“Yeah… You know, speaking of, if someone else stops in here—and I’m not suggesting anything! But… this could look, ah…”

“Oh! Yeah, totes.” Quinn shimmied toward the foot of the bed, but to my dismay, stopped well short of standing. Instead, her now bare foot reached out and tapped the lock with an extended toe. “There we go. If that’s OK. Is that weird? You didn’t cover RA hangout protocol in your little rules talk.”

“It’s a little weird,” I relented. Her sliding down the bed had hiked her shorts up, baring every inch of her thighs, and her top as well. The bottom of her bra wasn’t quite visible, but that I even had to check for that spoke to how high she’d let it ride.

“Man, I’m sorry. I have boundary issues. Get up, get a shirt on. I didn’t mean to weird you out or anything.”

“Yeah, well, suffice to say that if I get up, it’s gonna get a whole lot weirder in here.”

Her head cocked back. Another sniffle. I really hoped I didn’t wind up sick from this encounter. Or fired. “Oh fuck, homie, are you in your underwear under there?”

“Um…”

And back further. “Oh. OH. Dayum, Spencer, why didn’t you say something? Or lock the friggin’ door when you’re lounging around in your nothings!”

“When I said ‘my door is always open,’ I didn’t count on you taking it quite so literally. Bad judgment on my part, and I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable.” I was not sorry, in point of fact. I hoped she blushed so hard it rocketed her back to her room.

“Who, me? Nah, I don’t get uncomfortable. My mom’s a sex therapist, so I grew up with healthy ideas about all that.”

I wouldn’t have minded if she had fewer healthy ideas. Or if her “all that” hadn’t been directed to my crotch. “Oh, cool.” There. Fewer words. Be terse. Marisa had always hated it when I got terse. If I’d left it up to her, dinner conversation would have continued unabated into the bedroom.

“So what’s the policy on RAs and residents, you know, hooking up? Asking for a friend.” She grinned in a far too friendly way.

So much for terseness. “It’s a hard no, I’m afraid. In fact, I could get in a lot of trouble for your even being in here like this, so…”

“Hey, mum’s the word. No worries, friend.”

Had I gotten so much better looking over the summer that suddenly women were unable to take hints around me, or what? As I pondered how to hint harder (Quinn being three steps too hot to simply tell her to piss off), she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and softened her smile. “You’re kind of shy, for an authority figure. You know that, Spencer?”

“I’m not sure ‘shy’ is the term for being a little fidgety under these circumstances.”

“What, you mean being naked and having a cute stranger girl climb into bed with you?”

I nodded, sighing deeply. “Yeah. Those circumstances.”

“So you agree I’m cute.”

“I think we can safely say it’s an empirical fact. Yeah. Not flirting, but I’m not blind, either.”

She gave her bottom lip a little chew, clearly pleased despite my qualifying the compliment. “Yeah? You like what you see, huh?”

I certainly did, especially given how much she was letting me see. “Look, like I said, I can’t get involved with a resident. I could get fired.”

Quinn scooted closer. Her foot no longer reached the floor. “Who’s asking you to ‘get involved?’ I was just stroking my ego, fishing for compliments. I didn’t even ask you to kiss me or anything.”

That certainly painted a picture in my head. “Right. Sorry.”

“Besides, I can keep a secret. Like, in sophomore year—of high school, obviously—I hooked up with this drummer from another school when I was at this concert to cheer on this guy I was seeing, who played the cornet? Never told a soul.”

“You just told someone.”

With a little wriggle of her belly, she squirmed closer. “Someone trustworthy, though. Discretion, see?”

“Hey, look, I’m flattered. Really. If I weren’t your RA, who knows? I am, though, so I think it might be better for you to leave. For now. Then come back tomorrow, or any other day, and I’ll have clothes on, and we can hang.”

Except instead, she squirmed again, and this time it left her body gently pressing against my side. “Can I see it, at least?”

“Can you—!” I straightened so fast, I gave myself a splinter from the headboard. I yelped in pain and surprise, reflexively throwing myself forward. A moment later I thrashed myself back under the sheets, but not before I gave her an eyeful of my backside sprawled out on the tiny bed.

“Oh! Oh shit! I didn’t mean to freak you out that hard! Holy… is that a splinter?” She reached out, touched the place it had entered. It stung like a bitch. “Damn, Spencer, that’s a small log lodged in there! Hold still, let me…”

“What? No! No, I’ll… I’ll get…” Who? Who would I get? Somebody from my all-female staff? Somebody else from my all-female floor? This thing hurt too bad to wait to go to the student health center tomorrow. “OK. Fine. But be gentle, OK? This thing hurts like hell.”

“Poor thing. All right. Just let me…”

For a moment, I thought she meant to straddle me, but thank god she didn’t push things that far. I held absolutely still as Quinn rose to her knees beside me, gently probing where I could feel the sting in the middle of my back.

Then I felt another hand, this one much lower. I’d managed to get the sheets over my butt, though only barely. Quinn was only barely above that line.

“Um, your hand…?”

“I’m just supporting myself,” she lied. There was barely any pressure there. Whatever. Let her finish, and be done with this.

Her errant fingertips quested around my lower back, an immensely pleasurable caress that I might have even believed was meant to soothe me from my current and impending pain had she not just made up a story about it. Then suddenly, before I knew she was at it, there was a sharp tug, a little pinch, and I was informed it was done.

“Not so bad. Not even bleeding, hardly. See?” She set the sliver on my nightstand, one of only two pieces of furniture I owned. It really was a beast of a splinter.

“Thanks, Quinn. Now can I… can… can I…”

That was as far as I got. There was a wisp of cool air as the sheets flew down off my body. I flinched, but there wasn’t much I could do. On my back was a good deal more modest than my front. Then there were hands again. This time, right on my ass.

Quinn bent down, her cheek pressed to my bare back near the site of the injury. “You’ve got a nice little booty here, Spencer. I thought you might at the meeting, but… yeah. This is… Yeah.”

She was kneading me. Fondling me. It felt incredible, not only what she was doing but that this dark-haired vixen was so eager to do it. Too incredible to find the words to tell her to stop. At the end of a long day, the end of two long weeks of RA training trying not to notice Carmen’s thong creeping out of her shorts, or Vickie’s lips habitually sucking her index finger, or Savannah’s… well, anything, it felt almost deserved. The powers that be weren’t about to let Spencer Lawrence stay on this assignment. Displace thirty students, or one staff member?

She was my resident for one night. Victimless crime. Not even a crime. A violation of my responsibilities. A minor violation, considering they’d almost definitely be reassigning me. Heck, I practically owed it to myself for the inconvenience.

Then Quinn sunk her teeth into my ass cheek.

I arched my back in surprise, but a kiss that became a lick that reverted to more nibbling soon followed.

Quinn giggle-moaned, which wasn’t even a thing I knew women did. “Sorry, always wanted to try that, and here you were, looking like a lil’ snack.”

Then she went back to it. Nips at intervals, but mostly just licking and sucking and literally kissing my ass. I’d never fantasized about it before, but now I couldn’t imagine why. Thank the good lord I’d taken a shower before bed; it had been a sweaty day. For the time being, I actually had Higgins 3’s men’s room to myself.

Her body descended atop mine, her lips right beside my ear. “Can I put a finger in you?” she whispered throatily.

One of my job responsibilities was a little sex ed—not the anatomy so much as promoting those healthy ideas Marisa had given her life to, the ones Quinn had picked up from her mom. To that end, I was proud of her, coming to school already briefed on consent.

More than that, though… This sexy little forbidden fruit was whispering throatily in my ear. Of course I was going to consent.

While I gazed back and watched, she gave her left index finger a long, sensuous suck from base to tip. I’d never had anything shoved in there before, but I tried to relax the best I knew how, parting my thighs. My tacit permission granted, she went right for it. For an eighteen-year-old girl fresh out of high school, I have to say, it was some pretty damn aggressive stuff. On my end, though? It felt… strange. Stranger still when she began to wiggle it ever so gently inside me.

Not bad strange, mind. I sure as hell didn’t ask her to stop.

“You like that? Not too much?”

“No. No, you’re doing… It’s great.” It wasn’t like me to be tongue-tied with women, but it wasn’t like women to barge into my room while I was naked and shove their index finger inside me. I was adjusting.

“Roll over. Nice and slow. Bend your knees, so I don’t lose my ring in there.”

“You have a—!”

She patted my behind patronizingly. “You really are an easy mark, Spencer. Now come on. I want that cock. Don’t make me puppet you.”

I did not make her “puppet me,” whatever that was. (I had an idea, but it was too terrifying to contemplate.) I’d been hard since a few seconds after she’d sat down next to me, but as I rolled over, careful not to disrupt her finger, it was more than merely hard. My cock ached with need. It was redder than I’d ever seen it, throbbing demandingly in the air.

Quinn, kneeling between my knees, stared in rapt attention.

“How were you hiding all that under these tiny little sheets?” she murmured as she took it in her free hand. She must have licked her palm or something when I wasn’t looking, because it was already cool, wet and smooth.

The girl on my bed jacked me off while she probed my ass. Even in the moment, it was hard to believe it was really happening. I’d made out with a girl from another floor in Rowland three years back. It was decent, don’t get me wrong, but it ended with me climbing the stairs back to my floor to beat off in the solitude of my own room, saddled with guilt over the illicit contact.

This? This was next level. As in literally, I should have been floating through the ceiling into Janis’s room on Higgins 4. Hey Janis, don’t mind me, just getting ready to bust an anal nut all over this barely legal freshman, go back to sleep. I almost chuckled to myself. Would have, if not for past lessons in not laughing at stray thoughts during sex.

Though oddly, it was that stray thought, one I’d barely been aware I’d been harboring, that pushed me across the line. Janis, lying in bed, as naked as I’d been. My coworker Janis, her tightly wound horribly naïve incredibly judgmental flawless blonde-haired high and tight Mormon body, resting after a long day of tolerating her job. My job.

As a rule, I abstained from masturbating to thoughts of friends, coworkers, people I’d interact with on the regular. It was a practice that lent itself to shallow thoughts and shallow motives. I’d broken the rule a few times with Savannah these past weeks, and once with a fantasy of Savannah and Vickie tag-teaming me after our tag-team training sessions on teamwork. Janis’s personality was so far away from something I could imagine in a partner that it actually made her unattractive to me.

Or so I’d thought, right up until the present moment as I sprayed cum like a fountain into the air. I stared, stupefied, as a single dangly strand hit that popcorn ceiling and hung, as if tethered to the bitch living through that ceiling and floor.

Quinn’s finger slid out of me with alarming suddenness. She was clapping in the next breath. “Damn, you were really backed up, huh?” she laughed, exhilarated. “I think you mostly missed me, but… I got any cummies anywhere?” She twisted this way and that, showing off her body for my inspection.

Somehow, I seemed to have missed her except for a couple droplets on her shoulder. She wiped it off with my sheets. “That was… wild. Incredible. Did your mom teach you that?”

She snorted. “Your dad teach you to jizz all over your ceiling? Gotta say, that’s pretty impressive.” I almost retorted that it had hardly been all over, but then I remembered I’d just cum on my CEILING, and shut up. When was the last time I’d erupted anywhere close to that? Middle school? “If the RA thing doesn’t work out for you, I bet you could take that to Vegas.”

“I’ve never had anyone try that before. That was something else. Unless you’re looking to get rid of me.”

“Sorry. Just focus on the complimentary part. That’s the part I actually meant.”

“Well then thanks. Give me a minute for the sparks to clear from my vision and I’ll have one for you, too.”

Quinn grinned, then leaned down and kissed my cheek. “My first night of college. Damn. This is gonna be a crazy next four years, isn’t it? Six, I guess, if I employ the Spencer method.”

“Well they’re probably going to be reassigning me soon, so don’t get too used to seeing me around here. I guess it means what we just did would be cool. Cool to do again, if we wanted.” Then I remembered I was sitting here, satisfied as could be, while she’d not had so much as a finger lain on her. “Oh geez, speaking of, how about I…?”

But her hand planted itself on my chest in restraint. “No, I’m good. I haven’t showered since moving in, so I’m… But hey, wherever you land when they take you away from us, you can invite me over, make it up to me.” She suddenly dove at my face so aggressively I worried it was an attack. From how hard she kissed me, it almost was. Almost.

“Besides,” Quinn whispered when, some minutes later, she pulled away, “fucking my RA would probably be really bad of me, right?”

For once, I considered that she might be teasing, but she never hinted at it in her visage. With that, she at last scooted out of my bed and let herself out the door, even as I flailed to throw sheets over myself in case anyone was walking by. Nobody was at that moment, except then Quinn remembered she’d left her map in my room. I was on my hands and knees, wiping up my cum stains with a sock. She darted in and out (once more without knocking), leaving me not even sufficient time to dive for cover. A moment after the door closed, I heard a woman’s voice in the hallway. They hadn’t yet learned that these doors did jack squat to cover noise.

“Was that our RA? Was he naked?”

He was. He very much was. So much for keeping things under wraps.