It started as just a joke. That’s how most things start in college. I was in my junior year, rooming with a group of friends. We all met through the school’s gaming club freshman year, spending late nights pounding mountain dew and queueing CSGO matches. Most of us had bad roommates that first year: Jack’s was a frat bro, Marty’s was an inconsolable slob, and Brock’s jerked off under the covers when he thought he wasn’t looking. Mine was no better, as a constant stream of girls walked into and out of our dorm, exiling me from my own room.
That was another thing that brought us together: we had some seriously bad luck with chicks. Brock was seeing a girl when we first met him, but she jumped ship once she saw his ’smaller than average’ dick. Marty matched with a number of girls on tinder, but all of them made excuses about halfway through the dates. We’d all hoped moving to college would give us the opportunity to meet new girls, girls who didn’t care that we were a little pudgy or awkward or short. That was wishful thinking.
We moved in together sophomore year. We all got along really well, and having a space just for us made gaming together even easier. We started an amateur e-sports team for the school which gave us an annual stipend to improve our skills. That meant we were spending more time in our rooms, more time chugging soda, and much less time talking to girls. Throughout our sophomore year, we had a grand total of two chicks in the room: one came home drunk with Marty and crashed on our sofa, while the other did the exact same thing with Jack. We’d been excited both times, hoping one of us could lose our virginity so the rest could follow. In the morning, though, both got up and left before anyone could do as much as catch their names.
We weren’t lonely, but we were definitely feeling insecure about our chances with women. While I’d never expressed the concern to my buddies, there was a part of me that believed we’d never find women to like us. As we kept living together, we gained more and more weight and our conversations only became more self-referential. I worried we were approaching a point of no return, but at least we had each other.
Junior year, we decided to live together again. We were inseparable at this point, spending pretty much all of our social time together. We watched movies, played games, and our new third-floor window afforded us the opportunity to indulge in a new vice: weed. None of us could drink very much; we’d tried freshman year but it always ended with one of us bent over the toilet while the others nursed headaches the morning after. Weed, though, was different. We could smoke and play games for hours, only taking pauses to empty our piss jugs and cluster around the window again for another few hits. We learned to play games high, but we were sober for our competition matches. Usually.
Soon marijuana became a part of our daily rituals. After classes, we’d smoke together and hang out while everyone finished their homework. Then we’d jump straight into gaming: mostly PC, but sometimes we’d all hop on console together and play a few rounds of Smash or something. It was always fun to laugh at how our motor skills degraded, misclicking in ways we thought we’d moved past years ago. It made all of us stupid, but we enjoyed being able to let loose and laugh together. A few TV dinners later, we were free to play into the small hours of the morning.
Because we didn’t have any girls to speak of, jerking off was a hot button issue in the apartment. We established a system: our unit comprised of a pair of rooms with a bathroom connecting the two. When someone from room A needed to get his rocks off, his roommate would go hang out in room B with the other two guys. As soon as they finished, they’d unlock their side of the bathroom door and we could all get back to gaming. The problem with this solution was that we all wanted to jerk off a LOT. When you’re a horny 21 year old with no other release, it bordered on necessity. Jack and I were in one room while Marty and Brock were in the other, and it was not uncommon for one guy to be jerking off and another waiting to do the same, ping ponging the other two of us around back and forth until everyone was satiated. Still, it took a lot of time that we could’ve been spending gaming.
That’s when, one day, Jack came home from class with a rectangular box in his hand. He rushed in the door, face alight with excitement. I looked up from my tablet, surprised to see a plush red bow taped to the box.
“Yo dude, what’s that?” I asked.
Jack smiled as he shed his backpack, slumping to the floor with the weight of his textbooks. “Ok, this is crazy but, Reggie, you gotta hear me out. I was just walking on the quad and there was this stand giving stuff away for sex week, and guess what? I won the grand prize!”
Sex week was an annual event at our university. It sounds more interesting than it is: it’s mostly sex education workshops and free condoms for students. None of us had ever gone to any of the events and we didn’t have much use for condoms, so it usually passed us by without incident. This time was different though.
“No way! What’d you win?”
Jack ripped the bow off the box and shimmied his finger between the cardboard panels, popping it open with a crunchy rip. “Let me show you. I got to chose any of the toys they had there, and somehow I struck gold.”
Hold on. Toys? “Like, sex toys? Aren't those for chicks?”
Jack held his tongue between his teeth as he pried the ripped pieces away from the treasure inside. “And gay dudes. But this isn’t like that, look!”
He held a cylinder in his hand, about the size and shape of a water bottle. I saw it taper halfway up, capped at the top by a semisphere of silicone. He angled the cylinder to me and I saw the uniformly peach-colored model of a woman’s labia. “Woah dude, is that a pocket pussy? I honestly didn’t even know those things were real.”
“It’s real alright,” Jack quipped as he fingered the silicone, sticking the whole fleshlight in my face to show me. The silicone morphed against his rough fingers. The tight opening deformed as the pseudo-flesh gripped Jack’s thick digits. “Hold on, you have to lube it up first.”
He set the canister down on my desk as he reached to his bedside table, pulling out a bottle of cheap water-based lube. “Check it.”
He poured a drizzle of clear slick on the hole before hurriedly fingerfucking the lube inside. Immediately the sounds of smacking and slurping began, filling the room with a loud messy rhythm.
“What’s that noise?” I heard from the bathroom door as Brock marched inside. His curly black hair had grown out; he stopped cutting it at the beginning of the year and while I thought it looked nice, it was almost certainly chick-repellant. Brock set his eyes on the mystery object, listening as Jack excitedly explained his new acquisition.
“So, what, are you gonna fuck it Jack?” Brock asked, half kidding. He still hadn’t wrapped his head around the toy.
“Well yeah, duh. What else would I do with it?”
“I don’t know,” Brock started unsurely. “Isn’t it like… kinda loser shit to fuck a pocket pussy?”
Jack feigned playful surprise. “Us? Losers? No way…”
“You know what I mean bro, like how are we ever going to have girls over if-”
I cut in. “Seriously Brock? When was the last girl who saw this place? Actually, scratch that, when was the last time someone besides the four of us was in this place? Besides, it’s just a little fun. Why shouldn’t he?”
Brock was often the one to be less opinionated about things. He was very willing to go with the group, often cosigning our gaming choices without a second thought. He brought that same energy here as he conceded.
“Ok, yeah I guess. Just seems, I don’t know, weird.”
Jack tossed the fleshlight in the air end over end, catching it again absentmindedly as he spoke. “I think you’re a little jealous, dude.”
I turned to Brock with a mocking smile, playing into our light-hearted ribbing.
Brock blanched. “You’ve got it all wrong, dude. I just hope that thing doesn’t turn your brain to mush, we’re playing ranked tonight. We gotta practice hard if we’re gonna win that CS tournament.”
“Yeah yeah, I’ll keep my pants on while we’re on the ladder. But, dude, I gotta try this thing out.”
Brock and I got the message and started towards the bathroom door, happy to give Jack his much needed alone time. Before we left though, he called after us.
“Wait, you know what would make this even better?”
Brock and I looked at each other, both already knowing what Jack was thinking. He was always the most gung-ho with his smoking. I’d even caught him a few times lighting up in the morning before class. Even when caught, he was near shameless, just laughing about it and explaining why it was actually a super good idea to get stoned before his midterm.
Brock went to fetch the glass bong he hid under his bed. The four of us had gone in on it together, buying it from an overpriced smoke shop off campus. It was small and the bowl was crusted in brown resin, but it worked well and it was our pride and joy. Jack grinded up some of his own green before joining Brock and I in the other room; Marty had an afternoon class, but would be joining us in an hour or two.
We pried open the window and huddled together, waiting to start the rotation. Jack lifted the aperture to his mouth, striking his lighter and cornering the bowl with a strong inhale. The water bubbled aggressively, encouraging more grey smoke into his lungs. The boy stuck his head outside and exhaled as he handed the bong over to me.
I did the same and handed it to Brock. I felt my eyes going squinty and the buzzing in the back of my mind stopped, calmness taking over my composure. Even though I was very comfortable with my friends, talking about sex always put me on the edge of nervousness. It was something I was ashamed of, and although having some great friends to commiserate with did make it tolerable, it was still a touchy subject. I was just happy to have weed in my system, reducing the earlier encounter with the sex toy to a faint memory as I tried to string discordant thoughts together.
As Brock inhaled, I felt some kind of motion to my right. I turned to investigate only to see that Jack had brought the toy with him. He was still sticking his finger in and out of the fleshlight, moving slowly to reduce the noise.
“Bro!” I exclaimed, intoxication elevating my baffled reaction. Jack looked over and saw that he’d been caught, breaking another charming smile.
“Sorry man, I just really want to use it.”
“You can’t wait five fucking minutes?!”
“No, dude! It actually feels so good, here, just touch the-”
“I’m not touching any of your sex toy dude.” I responded flatly.
“Oh come on, its fresh out of the box! I haven’t even fucked it yet, it’s not weird or anything.”
Brock exhaled and spoke, handing the bong back to Jack. “It’s still definitely really fuckin weird, dude.”
“No way! Listen, just touch it. Here, take it while I kill this bowl. You just gotta *feel* how soft this is.”
“I don’t want it,” I’d said. Jack thrust the canister into Brock’s hand as he raised the lighter to spark up again.
As Jack inhaled, Brock and I eyed each other. The two of us were much more laid back in comparison to Jack’s excitability and Marty’s type-A disposition. As the bong bubbled, Brock shrugged at me and gingerly touched the silicone with a pair of fingers. He pressed against it and pried it apart, one of the lips puckering open in his direction. He moved towards the center, pressing into the small hole. A squelch erupted as the air trapped in the cavity escaped, still wet with Jack’s lube. Brock shuddered at the sound, but after a moment of pause he kept languidly pushing his finger inside.
Jack exhaled and handed the bong to me. “See bro, I knew you’d be jealous!”
I heard Brock over the bubbling of the bong. “I’m not fucking jealous, it just… whatever dude, take your stupid toy back.”
“It felt good though, didn’t it?”
“Fuck off dude, you’d fuck a piece of sandpaper if there was a hole.”
“Yeah, you liked it.”
I exhaled a rich hit of vapor, opaque smoke streaming out of my mouth. “Jeez, guys,” I stumbled over my words. “I got really high really fast.”
Brock laughed. “I’ll take one more and then I’m probably good too.”
“Alright, I’ll go get a head start then,” Jack said as he climbed back away from the window. He still held the pocket pussy in one hand, pointer finger keeping the plastic busy. I shot Brock another look as Jack closed the bathroom door behind him, but he was too focused on not coughing after his last hit.
The two of us decided to put on a show: it was a high fantasy drama that we’d all watched together as it aired. TWe’d seen the whole thing twice and we were on our third rewatch. Just as one of the princesses became enchanted with the young knight, I heard a periodic squelch from the other room. I wondered if I was imagining it, but Brock turned to me with a knowing look before he turned up the volume on his TV.
Jack, though, was not one to be bested. Even over the ensuing battle, Jack’s wet noises could be heard from the couch. We joked around with each other at Jack’s horniness, laughing at how desperate he could get. Though, even as I made fun of him, I couldn’t help but notice that my cock had started to chub up. It didn’t sound like sex, or at least any normal sex. It was much louder, sloppier, and more obscene. Still, I couldn’t help but imagine how Jack was feeling right now fucking that piece of plastic. Maybe any moment he’d realize how pathetic it was for him to fuck a rubber pussy, putting it aside for good and writing it off as a silly experiment. The noises kept coming, though, and seemed to get even faster.
“Sounds fuckin’ crazy,” Brock mentioned offhandedly.
“Yeah, I know. He’s going hard, I guess.”
“Yeah.”
We tried to focus on the show, but the sounds just kept coming.
“He must’ve put a lot of lube in that thing. Sounds like a waterbed over there.”
I forced a chuckle, but it caught in my throat as the squelching sounds overwhelmed my working memory.
Brock shifted a little beside me. “I must be really fucking high.” He said unprompted.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because it kinda sounds good.”
“Huh?”
“Like, its like he’s fucking someone right nextdoor.”
I shifted to hide my growing erection. “Yeah, but he’s not. He’s just jerking off.”
“But it sounds like it, doesn’t it?”
I waited a moment, not sure how to respond. I was super comfortable with Brock and knew he wasn’t trying any weird shit, he was genuinely asking. And I had to admit, it was the closest we’d come to any of us having sex.
“Yeah, it sounds pretty real I guess.”
We waited a few more moments. I had a stupid, horrible, totally not-cool idea that I struggled to quench. I was almost sure Brock had the same idea.
“Do you wanna listen?” I asked him. I met Brock’s return gaze and saw that in addition to the redness of the weed, his eyes were glassy with arousal.
“Yeah.”
We both stood from the couch, moving slowly so that we didn’t make any noise. About halfway to the bathroom door Brock reminded me that we were blasting a show and he was probably up to his headphones in porno moans, not to mention the sound of the thing itself. We laughed at our stupidity, but still walked the rest of the way to the bathroom door. We stood outside, listening to the rhythmic slurps of the sex toy.
I motioned for Brock to squeeze out of the way so that I could press my ear to the wooden door. On the other side, I could tell that the door between my and Jack’s room to the bathroom was open. I didn’t hear any porn, but Jack usually didn’t play his out loud like Marty sometimes did. Instead, I could hear the squelching more clearly, the liquid smacks and slaps changing with every stroke. What’s more, I heard Jack’s breath catching in his throat. He made short struggled sounds as the squelching toy slid up and down his dick.
“Take a listen,” I whispered, offering the spot to Brock. He knelt and leaned in, presumably hearing the same sounds.
“I can hear him.”
“I could too. That thing must be pretty good.”
“Yeah,” Brock admitted. “I mean, it might be fun to fuck. I don’t know. It did feel pretty soft.”
I cringed internally that I hadn’t taken the opportunity to caress the material before Jack got his cock all over it. Brock was right, anything besides my hand would probably be mind-blowing at this point.
“Dude,” Brock said lowly as his eyes shot open in bewilderment. He dropped his voice to a whisper before conveying, “Jack is fucking moaning on that thing.”
“What, no way! Lemme listen.” We traded places again and I could hear Jack groaning, short moans of pleasure punctuating the slurpy sounds. “Woah. That’s intense.”
“It’s not weird that we’re doing this, right?” Brock asked. His voice carried the tone of wanting to be reassured.
“No, bro. It’s just like… we’re happy for him, you know? If you had a chick over, the three of us would definitely be listening to her every moan. It’s good for all of us.”
“Yeah,” Brock responded, obviously not thinking.
I was about to pull away to offer the spot back to Brock when I heard Jack’s voice going higher. I could make out individual words now, though most of them were some variant of an exclaimed ‘fuck!’
“Dude, I think he’s about to cum.”
“What, its been like five minutes! Jack almost never goes for less than a half hour.”
“No, dude, listen,” I commanded as I pulled Brock in next to me against the bathroom door. Brock and I sat in silence as we heard the groans of our friend, crescendoing to a loud, rough orgasm that left him babbling strangely. Neither of us said anything, but we locked eyes in disbelief as we listened to the climax rip through our roommate.
“Woah,” Brock finally said.
“Yeah,” I whispered back. “Woah.”
We kept our ears to the door, too high to remember that what we’d come to do had been accomplished. It was only when I heard the sudden rush of water from the tap in the bathroom did I pull myself and Brock away. We rushed back to the couch, quickly scrambling to look natural. Fifteen seconds later, the bathroom door burst open. Jack stood there with a towel wrapped around his waist, his belly hanging overtop. He held the towel to his hip with one hand and wielded the fleshlight in the other.
“That,” he panted, still short of breath. “Was fucking awesome.”
