Okay. So, I was nineteen, in college, not studying enough, staying out late too often, making memories with friends and flings alike—the works. I lived in the dorms on campus and had the same roommate since my first semester. Ronnie. Also, nineteen.

She was cool, studious, somewhat quiet. She never stayed up past 9pm and always woke up around 5am. She was a fine roommate. We got along great, especially for how small our room actually was. It fit our two twin-sized beds with minimal space separating them. Like, just enough of an aisle to walk to and from the door. For the most part, the space was never an issue, but there were a few times when she was heading into the room while I was heading out, and we had to slightly turn to fit past each other. Well, those few times—I swear—she purposely leaned in so our bodies touched. A graze. I swear.

Of course, I had no proof. It was just a hunch. I don’t know. Anyway, there was a night I wanted to bring this guy over, but it flopped, so Ronnie and I hung out. We got into our pajamas—she wore this over-sized tee with her panties, I had on boxer shorts and a camisole, and we both had relinquished our bras—she hopped on my bed, and we pulled up something on my laptop to watch.

It was a fun time, but as the night went on, we started having some deep conversations, and they eventually led to Ronnie admitting she was a virgin. She hadn’t kissed anyone, either. She focused on studying and extracurriculars in high school, didn’t care for romance—or so she said.

I honestly couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t kissed anyone? Ronnie wasn’t someone you looked away from. She had these stunning hazel eyes, a dimpled chin, the odd freckle on her face, and a nose ring that complemented her appearance. She wore her hair in a messy bun more often than not, and I thought it worked for her. She also had a gorgeous body, imo. Her breasts looked a good size—like they’d fit comfortable in my hand; not that I (totally) fantasized about it, of course. Her ass was cute, too. I had stared at it plenty of times. I can appreciate a good-looking ass. I’m not blind.

As she was telling me this, she seemed pretty embarrassed. I reassured her there was nothing to be embarrassed about, but then she asked what it was like to kiss someone.

I couldn’t really explain it. I just said it depended on the person. Butterflies vs nothing vs the hot and bothered feeling (iykyk).

That was when she got really quiet. I asked what was wrong, and she just sort of kept shifting in her seat. I could tell she was holding something back, so I told her to just spill it.

I still remember the way she asked. Her tone was curious but cautious, her voice a whisper as if the mere mention of it was too taboo.

“Will you kiss me?”

I was stunned, to say the least. But, also, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit curious, too. It wouldn’t be the whole truth if I said I never thought about it. For the hell of it, and because we were friends, I said, “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

She sat still while I leaned in. Her breathing got really quiet. She even sucked in a breath when I was inches from her mouth. She had her eyes closed, too.

I planted my lips on hers softly. It wasn’t a short kiss, just long enough to make her feel something. When I pulled away, I heard the slightest whimper. She opened her eyes. We were so close, just looking at each other.

My skin started getting warm. I liked it, but I wasn’t going in for another one, which was why I was surprised when she leaned into me. Our lips met again. This time, it was brief. Too brief. Almost hesitant. It bordered on frustrating. So, I went in again, the passion growing. We kissed longer and deeper, our tongues joining in, and soon, hands started exploring, sliding up thighs, down torsos, through hair.

At one point, I ended up on top of her, nibbling her neck and grinding against her. She let out these small, reluctant moans, and ugh, I was getting greedy. I continued grinding on her. I could feel her wet pussy on my leg, even through her panties.

I had never done anything with a woman past kissing. Not because I didn’t want to. I was open to it. The opportunity hadn’t presented itself. Until then.

“Tell me if this is too much,” I said, moving my hand up her shirt to cup her naked breast. I was right—it fit perfectly. She replied with a nod, her eyes closed, head back to take in the simultaneous stimulation of me teasing her nipple and kissing down her collar bone.

I was definitely getting hot and heavy, especially because she was squirming and moaning. I planted another kiss on her lips. It was fierce. Things were nearly ablaze between us.

I found my hand wandering down her stomach, my nails gliding against her skin, making her shiver. I stopped just shy of her pussy. Instead of diving right in—and trust me, I wanted to—I played a little, flirted a little, caressing her inner thigh with the ghost of a touch to make her writhe. I wanted her to experience this. Actually feel something. The ache. The desire. The fire.

While my hand was on the playground, I lifted her shirt so her perky breasts could peek out. It gave me the room to take turns sucking on her nipples. That made her moan just a little louder. It was music to my ears.

When my fingers pulled aside her panties and found her lips, they were soaked. Drenched. Fuck. It was hot. It made my pussy throb when I felt it. I gently rubbed my finger in her juices before bringing my hand to my mouth. I told her to watch as I licked her off my finger.

“You taste so fucking good,” I said. And she did. Like, a forbidden fruit.

She pulled me into another kiss and then took that same hand to lick that same finger. To taste herself. I was shocked. Little Ms. Innocent knew how to play naughty.

At that point, I was wet. When my hand went between her legs this next time, my other hand went between mine. I rubbed my clit while I teased hers. She only got wetter by the second. Like, dripping. It was so sexy looking at her, breasts out with my hand down her panties, her bottom lip between her teeth, her fingers curling around my bed sheets in anticipation.

She moaned my name. It was delicious. She was climbing, and it felt so fucking good helping her get there

Before I could slip a finger inside her, though, there was a knock at that door. It was the RA doing room checks. We both SCRAMBLED. Ronnie rushed to her bed, fumbling her shirt and adjusting her soaked panties. She was under the covers by the time the RA came in. When the RA left, I deadass looked over at her, she looked at me, and I ran my mouth the length of my finger, tasting what she left.

I even gave her a little wink. It was late—close to 11pm. She had to be up early, so we didn’t get to finish, unfortunately, but holy fuck, was it a night I won’t forget. I often wonder if she ever finished herself while I was out of the room.