5.01 – Good Morning

5.01 – Good Morning

Splitting a cheap dorm with Jordan and Natalie had sounded like a fantastic idea at the time, especially since Sofia had gotten a room to herself for one-third the price, with the two women willing to share the other. Now, though, Sofia was coming to terms with a drawback of the arrangement.

Flushing, Sofia sat on the living room couch, trying to ignore the obscenely loud, perverted noises echoing from Natalie and Jordan's room, the thin walls barely muting the moans, grunts, and slapping of flesh. They were really going at it.

Still.

Forty-five minutes later.

"We're going to be late," Sofia growled, shooting a glare at the clock on the wall. "Are you kidding me?"

She'd planned to wait them out. But it was becoming more obvious by the moment that they'd lost track of time.

So, what? Did she leave without them? That felt like it would be kind of bitchy. She was obligated to at least try to remind them, as a polite roommate. Right? Simply walking out the door and letting them be late would be—while ultimately their own fault—still not friendly behavior.

With time running out, Sofia no longer had a choice in the matter. She stood. Approaching their room, the slapping noises became even louder. The words she'd desperately been trying to drown out—with little success—became clearer. Variants of 'oh, gods', 'fuck', and 'you're so fucking big' interrupted with smacks and moans.

What was going on inside there? Obviously, Sofia understood the general idea. But the specifics.

She knew the two girls were sleeping with each other. In fact, she'd been surprised she hadn't heard much until now. Natalie's illusions explained that away: she had been muting their activities. It seemed this time, though, she had forgotten to put one up, and so, Sofia was hearing the full extent of their dirty morning dalliances.

The noises were so lewd that she felt like a voyeur just listening to them. Standing outside the door, frozen solid, she simply took the noises in, letting them wash across her. Then, realizing what she was doing, she jolted and forced herself into action.

Face flaming, Sofia pounded against the door.

"Nat! Jordan! We're going to be late! It's time to go!"

The sound of smacking flesh didn't stop.

"Oh, fuck," Jordan's voice cried through the wall. "Fuck. Harder, Nat. Fuck my fucking pussy! Fuck. FUCK!"

The sounds of slapping flesh were accompanied by creaking, the bed struggling to support the force of the thrusts, the headboard bumping into the wall. The two were probably causing structural damage—or that was what it sounded like. Seriously, how hard were they going at it?

Had they even heard her?

"Oh, gods. Right there. Right there. Yes. Harder! Please! Fuck my stupid fucking pussy!"

Sofia had never, in her life, expected to hear Jordan say something so ridiculous. Each word hit her like a slap—and made her stomach clench with a strange intensity, which Sofia pointedly ignored.

So seeing the woman lewdly shove her hips back, wiggling her ass and stirring Natalie's cock around with obvious desperate need, despite Sofia having barged in, was a sight that did more than just 'fluster' Sofia. The woman looked genuinely intoxicated by cock. Like Natalie had scrambled her brains.

Sofia didn't care how good Natalie's cock felt, or how good she was at using it. Jordan simply should not be wearing that expression. It was obscene on her. Twice as much as it would on anyone else.

The sensation of Jordan grinding into Natalie was apparently too much for the other girl. Her hips reacted, and she pulled out, then smacked back in.

Incredulously, Sofia's eyes turned back to the pair, watching as something unbelievable happened.

Because they were ... they were ...

"Don't just keep fucking," Sofia shrilled. "Are you serious?!"

"If you wanted to watch," Jordan panted between loud smacks, "you could have just asked. We'd have said yes."

"We'll be done in a second," Natalie grunted. "Thanks for telling us."

Sofia stood there, watching as the two returned to their sweaty activity, unheeding that they'd been interrupted.

Uncaring they'd be late to class.

Well, that wasn't her problem. She'd gotten her message through.

So why wasn't she looking away?

Why wasn't she leaving?

She felt like she'd been glued to the spot.

Horrifyingly, Jordan's eyes flicked to her. Even drunk on sex, Sofia watched the realization cross her face. A smirk slowly curled her lips—a familiar smirk.

Sofia needed to leave. If she didn't, Jordan was going to drag her into this. She recognized that mischievous look. It had been present for the whole [Stylish] event earlier, where Jordan had constantly egged her and Natalie on—and when Jordan had been liberally feeling Sofia up, using 'dress-up' as an excuse.

And, obviously, Sofia wanted nothing to do with their sweaty morning fun. She wanted to get to class on time. That was it.

But if that were true, then why wasn't she leaving?

"Just gonna stand there?" Jordan asked. She turned, meeting Natalie's eyes over her shoulder. "It looks like we have a gross little voyeur on our hands. Any idea what we should do with her?"