🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞
The power cut out at 11:47 p.m. on a sticky October Thursday, right when I was halfway through edging myself under the covers with my vibrator on low. The buzz died instantly. My room went dark except for the faint blue glow from my dying phone screen. I cursed under my breath, thighs still trembling from the near-miss orgasm.
My roommate was out — probably crashing at her boyfriend's again — so the silence felt heavier. Thicker. I lay there for a minute, heart pounding, pussy still slick and aching, debating whether to finish by hand in the dark. That's when I heard footsteps in the hall. Slow. Deliberate.
A soft knock on my door.
"Riley? You okay in there?"
Alex's voice. Low, rough from whatever he'd been doing before the lights quit. He lived two doors down — tall, broad-shouldered engineering major with messy dark hair, tattoos peeking from his sleeves, and that stupidly sexy half-smile he'd flash when we passed in the laundry room. We'd flirted for months: lingering eye contact during fire drills, him "accidentally" brushing my ass when squeezing past in the narrow kitchenette, me bending over a little extra when I knew he was watching.
I didn't bother putting clothes back on properly. Just yanked my sleep shorts up over my soaked panties and tugged my thin tank down. No bra. My nipples were already hard from frustration and the sudden cool air.
I cracked the door. His phone flashlight lit his face from below — sharp jaw, dark eyes glinting. He was in gray sweatpants and nothing else. The outline of his cock was obscene against the fabric, half-hard like he'd been thinking the same filthy thoughts I had.
"Power's out," he said, like it wasn't obvious. "Whole floor. Generator's taking its sweet time."
"Yeah, I noticed." My voice came out huskier than I meant. I shifted, thighs pressing together to ease the throb between them. "Come in before the RA patrols and bitches about open doors."
He stepped inside. I shut the door, locked it. The click sounded loud in the quiet.
We stood there in the dim phone glow, maybe a foot apart. The air smelled like him — clean sweat, cedar body wash, and that masculine musk that always made my clit pulse when he'd walk by.
"You were... busy?" he asked, nodding toward my bed where the vibrator lay abandoned on the sheet.
Heat flooded my face, but I didn't deny it. "Almost finished. Then NEPA— I mean, the grid— decided to cockblock me."
He laughed, low and dark. "Poor thing." His eyes dropped to my chest. My tank was practically see-through with sweat. Nipples poking like they were begging for attention.
I stepped closer. Close enough to feel the heat rolling off his bare skin. "You offering to help?"
His hand shot out, cupped the back of my neck, thumb brushing my pulse point. "I've been wanting to fuck you since move-in day."
My breath hitched. "Then do it."
He kissed me like he was starving — hard, possessive, tongue claiming my mouth while his free hand slid down to grip my ass, squeezing hard enough to make me gasp into him. I arched, grinding my hips against the thick ridge in his sweats. God, he felt huge. Thick. Ready.
I tugged at his waistband. "Off. Now."
He shoved them down. No boxers. His cock sprang free — long, veined, the head already glistening with pre-cum. I wrapped my hand around him, stroking slow and firm. He groaned against my lips, hips jerking.
"Fuck, Riley..."
I dropped to my knees. The carpet scraped, but I didn't care. I looked up at him through my lashes, licked the tip, tasting salt. Then I took him deep — as deep as I could without gagging. His hand fisted in my hair, guiding but not forcing. I hollowed my cheeks, sucked hard, tongue swirling under the head while my hand pumped the base.
"Jesus... your mouth..." His voice was wrecked. "Been dreaming about this pretty throat choking on me."
I moaned around him, the vibration making him curse. My free hand slipped between my legs, rubbing my clit through my shorts. I was dripping — could feel it soaking the fabric.
He pulled me off with a wet pop. "Not yet. I want to taste you first."
He hauled me up, spun me, bent me over the desk. My palms slapped wood. He yanked my shorts and panties down in one rough tug, leaving them tangled at my ankles. Cool air hit my soaked pussy. I spread my legs wider.
"Look at you," he growled, spreading me open with his thumbs. "So fucking wet. Dripping down your thighs."
His tongue hit me — flat, hot, licking from clit to entrance in one long stroke. I cried out, knees buckling. He held me up by the hips, buried his face deeper. Sucking my clit, tongue flicking fast, then slow circles. Two fingers plunged inside — thick, curling immediately to hit my G-spot.
"Oh fuck— right there—"
He ate me like he was trying to ruin me for anyone else. Fingers pumping, tongue relentless. I rocked back against his face, grinding, chasing it. The coil in my belly tightened fast.
"Come on my tongue," he ordered, voice muffled against me. "Want to feel you soak my face."
I shattered. Hard. Legs shaking, pussy clenching around his fingers, a gush of wetness coating his chin. I bit my lip to muffle the scream — thin walls, nosy neighbors — but it came out anyway, raw and desperate.
He stood, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Spun me around. Kissed me so I tasted myself on his lips — salty, sweet, filthy.
"Bed," he said. "Now."
I scrambled back, spread my legs wide. He grabbed a condom from his sweats pocket — prepared, cocky bastard — rolled it on with quick, practiced movements.
He crawled over me, caged me with his arms. Rubbed the head of his cock through my folds, teasing my oversensitive clit until I whimpered.
" Beg for it," he said, voice dark.
"Please," I gasped. "Fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you stretch me—"
He slammed in. One deep thrust, bottoming out. I arched, nails digging into his shoulders. So full. So thick. Burning stretch that turned to pure pleasure.
"God, you're tight," he groaned. "Gripping me like a fucking vice."
He started moving — slow at first, letting me feel every inch drag out, then slam back in. I wrapped my legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass, urging him deeper.
"Harder," I demanded. "Fuck me like you mean it."
He did. Pounding into me, bedframe banging the wall. Skin slapping. Wet, obscene sounds filling the room. My tits bounced with every thrust; he caught one in his mouth, sucking hard, teeth grazing the nipple.
I raked my nails down his back. "Yes— bite me— mark me—"
He switched to the other breast, sucking bruisingly while his hips snapped faster. One hand slid between us, thumb circling my clit in tight, fast strokes.
"Come again," he ordered. "Come on my cock. Milk me."
The pressure built fast — too fast. I clenched around him, thighs trembling. "I'm— fuck— coming—"
I exploded. Pussy pulsing hard, fluttering around his thickness. He kept thrusting through it, drawing it out until I was whimpering, oversensitive.
He pulled out suddenly. Flipped me onto my stomach. Yanked my hips up. Ass in the air.
"Arch your back," he said. "Show me that pretty pussy."
I did. Spread wider. He slapped my ass — once, sharp, stinging. I moaned.
"Again."
He did. Harder. Then rubbed the head along my slit, teasing.
"Such a needy little slut," he murmured. "Dripping for it."
"Stop teasing and fuck me," I snapped.
He thrust in deep. This angle hit different — deeper, hitting my cervix with every stroke. I buried my face in the pillow, moaning loud enough the whole hall probably heard.
He gripped my hair, pulled my head back. "Let them hear. Let them know who's making you scream."
His other hand reached around, pinched my clit. Rubbed fast.
I came again — blinding, shattering. Squirting a little, soaking the sheets. He groaned, thrusts turning erratic.
"Fuck— gonna come— where do you want it?"
"Inside," I panted. "Fill the condom— pretend it's me—"
He buried deep, hips stuttering. Came with a guttural groan, pulsing hard inside me. I felt every throb through the latex.
We collapsed. Panting. Sweaty. Tangled.
After a minute he pulled out carefully, tied off the condom, tossed it. Rolled me into his arms.
"Power might come back soon," he murmured against my neck.
I grinned, already reaching between us to stroke him soft. "Good. Means we have time for round three before anyone knocks."
He laughed, hardening again under my fingers. "Greedy girl."
"Only for you," I whispered, guiding him back inside me — slow this time, savoring the stretch.
We fucked lazy and deep until the lights flickered on, harsh and bright. We didn't stop. Just kept going, slower, quieter, drawing it out until we both came again — soft, shuddering, perfect.
When the glow finally steadied, we lay there sticky and spent, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my hip.
"Next blackout," he said, kissing my shoulder, "my room. Bring the vibrator."
I smiled into the dark. "Deal."
From that night on, every flicker of the lights felt like foreplay.
