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By Rhythmo Loco (rhythmoloco@hotmail.com)

After four wild years in high school I'd already had enough of partying, immature boys and sexual experimentation. I decided not to go to college, where so many confused teenagers go to "find themselves", because I'd already sewn my wild oats, so to speak. I knew that there was more to life than getting drunk, and my sexual preference tended towards older partners (men and women) rather than teenage frat boys. Also, I was anxious to get out in the real world and make a little cash.
Four years and a string of shitty jobs later, I realized that college had more to offer than sex and partying. I needed a degree! So, at 22, I went back to school for graphic design. I felt that I was too old to be living in the dorms with a bunch of 18 year olds, and I couldn't afford an apartment, so for two years I lived at my parent's house and commuted an hour each way to school every day. All the driving and traffic started to really make me crazy, so for my junior year I decided I needed to live closer to campus. Since I still couldn't afford an apartment, I looked into becoming a Residence Assistant in the dorms.
Each floor in the dorm had one R.A. that lived on the hall and was in charge of making sure all the drunken co-eds weren't running around burning down the school. They also acted as moderators for disputes between roommates and were supposed to be a friendly ear to help the students with any other problems. They got their room and meals for free, and even got a small paycheck. The best part was that they didn't have to share their tiny dorm room with a roommate-each R.A. got his/her own room.
I applied for the position and a few weeks later the Dean of Student Housing called me up and told me to come see him for an interview. My grades and resume were not all that impressive, so I knew I was going to have to do something to impress him.On the day of the interview, I wore my shortest black skirt, platform sandals, and a white seethrough button down blouse with French cuffs with the first three buttons undone, showing lots of my 36C cleavage and a black lace bra underneath. I tied my long red hair into two braids, so that I would look cute and playful rather than slutty.
My plan worked, because I caught the Dean peaking at my chest a couple of times during the interview. I sat across from him with my legs crossed, but every so often I'd uncross them, giving the Dean a glimpse of my white panties. On the way out of his office, I purposely dropped my keys and then bent over at the waist to pick them up, causing my short skirt to ride up and making my butt cheeks and panties visible to him. A few days later he called me back and told me I got the job.
When the time came to move in to the dorm, I was a little nervous. First of all, I got stuck with a freshman hall, so I knew the kids would be especially young and immature. Secondly, it was an all-girls hall, and I wasn't sure how they would respond to a 24 year old chick telling them what to do. I remember how rebellious and independent I was at 18, and girls at that age can tend to be quite bitchy. They think they're god's gift to the world, and they can be very competitive and confrontational with other girls, especially older girls who are trying to boss them around.
I decided I would be as lenient as I could at first in order to gain their trust. On the first day of school, I went door to door introducing myself, seeing if anyone needed help moving their stuff in, and passing out cookies that I had baked myself. I offered to give them rides if they ever needed to go anywhere, since most of them didn't have cars and I did.
At each room I went to, I was amazed at how beautiful these girls were. This being the end of August, the dorm was very hot, and the girls were wearing very, very little as they were moving their stuff in and unpacking boxes. As I said, I'm usually attracted to older men and women, but some of these girls were just breathtaking. Because my college was primarily an art school, it didn't attract a lot of book-wormy nerdy types. Most of the girls there were very expressive and unique and fashionable. I knew that it would be wrong to become involved with one of my residents, so I tried to push the thought out of my mind.
Some of the girls were genuinely appreciative of my gesture, but some I could tell were thinking, "who the fuck is this chick, Betty Crocker?" and would probably make fun of me as soon as I was gone. One of the girls who was particularly cold to me was Michele. When I got to her room, her door was open but her back was to me. She was easily 5'8" tall with brown wavy hair. She was wearing a tight white ribbed tank top, brown work boots, and short, short, cutoff jean shorts.
As I was about to say hello, she bent over her desk to plug her computer in, causing her shorts to ride way up her ass, exposing much of her cheeks to me. She had a beautiful, plump butt, meaty thighs and long tan legs. Instead of interrupting what she was doing, I decided to watch her a little longer. She continued to work, lifting large boxes of school supplies and clothes. I still had not seen her face, but her body was amazing. She was a big girl, not fat or flabby, but she had strong, thick arms and large, round breasts.
As much as I enjoyed watching this specimen work, I decided I didn't want to get caught staring, so I knocked on the open door."What?" she responded, without turning to see who was knocking.
"Um, hi, I'm Jamie, your R.A. I just wanted to introduce myself and see if you needed a hand."
"Nope, I got it."
"Oh, okay. Well I baked some cookies so when you take a break. I'll just leave them on the desk." I walked in and placed some cookies on her desk, and she finally turned to look at me.
"Thanks."
I was speechless. This girl was absolutely gorgeous. She had big brown eyes, strong cheekbones, and a dimple in her chin. The sweat from her chest made her tank top cling to her large breasts, and her dark areolas were visible through the thin material. I was completely caught offguard by this large and yet feminine and sexy creature. Because of my dumbfounded amazement of her, I couldn't think of what to say, and I could feel my face turn bright red. She looked at me curiously, not knowing what to think of my behavior. I could sense that she just wanted me to leave, so I did just that.
"Well, if you need anything just let me know."
I turned and left her room, but for the rest of the day I could not get her out of my mind.
That night I went down the hall to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face before bed. As I was standing at the sink, Michele stepped out of one of the showers behind me with nothing on but a towel. I watched her through the mirror as she unwrapped the towel and started to dry herself off. Her large womanly breasts were exposed, glistening with drops of water. The change in temperature from the hot shower to the cold bathroom made her nipples hard, and I was mesmerized. She bent over to pick up her toiletries case, causing her tits to swing low and her necklace to dangle. As she stood up she caught me staring through the mirror.
"That's a beautiful necklace," I said, trying to play it off.
"Thanks, my mom gave it to me," she said, walking towards the sink next to me.
'Nice,' I thought to myself, 'she believed me that I was only looking at her necklace.' Since our conversation from earlier in the day hadn't gone quite so well, I decided to try again.
"Are you and your mom close?"
"We were. She's dead."
Oops. I felt like such a schmuck. I didn't know what to say, but luckily her roommate, Angie, walked into the bathroom at that very moment and told her she had a phone call from her boyfriend."I just got out of the shower, can you tell him I'll call him right back?"
"What do I look like, your secretary?" Angie replied smartly, and then left.
"What a bitch," Michele said under her breath, but loud enough to let me know she wasn't happy with the results of the random roommate selection process. She gathered her things and walked out of the bathroom.
I finished what I was doing and went back to my room. As I got undressed, I was looking at my body in the mirror. I'm built a lot like Michele, actually, but I'm much shorter. My large chest and big ass always got me noticed, especially since I love wearing skintight jeans and showing my cleavage. But at 5'2", I wasn't nearly the goddess that Michele was. I couldn't believe how much I was thinking about her. I had never noticed 18 year olds before that day, but then again she was no ordinary 18-year-old. She looked like a woman.
My mind kept re-playing the images from earlier in the day, first watching her beautiful bare butt cheeks as she bent over her desk, her sweaty nipples showing through the skin-tight tank top, and then watching her wet naked body as she stepped out of the shower.
I decided to make the most out of having a room to myself. I opened up my lingerie drawer and pulled out my black fishnet bodystocking. I slipped it on, lit some candles, and put on some jazz. I stood in front of the mirror, slowly dancing to the music, admiring the way the bodystocking clung to every little curve on my voluptuous body. My hands started to explore my breasts, rubbing my nipples until they were erect and poked out through the holes in the fishnet material. I turned around, my back to the mirror, and bent over until my hair swung down to the floor.
Through my legs I looked into the mirror at the reflection of my large, round ass. The cut-out hole in the crotch of the bodystocking left my pussy exposed, and I could smell my sex already brewing between my legs. I strained my neck, wanting nothing more than to lick my own pussy lips, but I knew that was impossible.
Growing impatient, I went to my bed and laid down on my back. I quickly dipped two fingers into my love pot, then brought the soaking digits up to my mouth and licked them dry. I was now completely lost in my own womanhood. With one hand I pinched and rubbed my nipples, with the other I played with my sensitive pussy. I slapped my clit until it stung with pain, then forcefully fucked myself with my hand. The images of Michele crept back into my mind. I imagined walking into her room as she was bent over the desk. I would get down on my knees behind her and grab two handfuls of her meaty ass, massing and rubbing her cheeks.
I wanted to pull those cut-off jean shorts down to her ankles and bury my face in her crack. I wanted to taste her musky asshole and rub my nose between her labia, taking in and savoring the aroma of her sex. Before my fantasy got any further, I was climaxing, over and over, one after another, until my body was spent and I couldn't move. I lay there motionless, in a daze, wondering to myself if Michele was attracted to women and if not, could I seduce her? I slept that night in my bodystocking and with my butt in a puddle of pussy juice on my sheets.
Classes started the next day and pretty soon everyone fell into their own routines. My fears about having a freshman girls' hall came true, as little cliques formed amongst the girls. Athletes hung out with athletes, hot girls hung out with other hot girls, and if you weren't in one of those groups then you were a "loser". It's a shame the way girls can be so competitive and catty, but I tried to stay above all that and be an objective voice of reason.
All that the hot, popular girls cared about was getting drunk and hooking up with guys at frat parties, or smoking pot in their rooms. I didn't want to be too much of a hard-ass at first, so I let them slide when I could. But when I bitched at them about leaving their sweaty work-out clothes in the hallway, or for not cleaning up their messes in the kitchen, I always got dirty looks and I suspected they didn't like me too much. I even overheard some of them talking behind my back about how old I was, or how I never went out to parties.Instead of being upset, though, I just felt sorry for these spoiled brats who went around spending daddy's money, having no idea what real life was like.
I had already outgrown that whole frat party scene, and hooking up with a drunk 20 year old guy was not my idea of a good time. Still, seeing the girls on my hall get all dressed up for a night out, and then come home screaming and laughing made me think back to how much fun it used to be in high school when I'd go out with all my friends. I guess a part of me was jealous of their care-free ways and I secretly wanted to be included. But I knew that as long as they saw me as an old, pathetic authority figure they would not want to hang out with me.One Sunday afternoon, a couple of weeks into the semester, I was sitting in my room doing homework. I had just come back from church, so I was still wearing my short, light blue, flowered sundress, but I kicked off my flip flops and peeled off my thong so that I could get comfortable. I heard some screaming coming from down the hall followed by a door slamming loudly shut. I walked out into the hall to see what the fuss was all about, when I saw Michele walking towards me, crying. She was wearing dark blue jeans that hung low on her wide hips, tightly clinging to her butt and thighs, then flaring out a little below her knees to her feet, which were wearing black high-heeled loafers with two-inch platforms. She had a dark green sweater with _ length sleeves and a deep V-cut neck that revealed a good four inches of her cleavage. Her hair was pulled back and tears were streaming down her gorgeous face.
"Michele?," I asked, "are you okay?"
"No, Angie is a total bitch. You have to get me a new roommate."
"It's not that easy, Michele. You two have to try to work things out first. Why don't you come in and tell me what happened."
She followed me into my room and I closed the door behind her. She stood in the middle of my room with her back to me, and I took a moment to take in the sight of her lovely round ass held tightly by her dark jeans. My mind recalled the images from the first day of school and how I had wanted to peel off her shorts and bury my face in her cheeks, but I quickly got a hold of myself. Even though this was the first time I'd had this beautiful girl alone in my room, my motives were purely innocent. My mind was on helping her, not humping her.
I invited her to sit down, and she chose the edge of my bed. I pulled the chair from desk over and sat across from her with my legs crossed. She'd stopped crying, so I asked her,
"So what's up with you and Angie?"