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Andrea’s lounging on her beat-up bean bag, mindlessly scrolling her phone when her roommate walks in.
She’s become quite skilled at pretending she hasn’t noticed Kevine, what with her eyes glued to her phone and her noise-canceling headphones radiating ‘ do not disturb ’ energy, except they’re not playing any music and she just likes the way they look.
Kevine is loud, when she comes in, she always is. She throws her sports bag down, kicks her sneakers off and then inspects them to see when they’re next due for a meticulous cleaning session, swinging her hips as she walks to the kitchen to make herself a post-workout smoothie.
“Want one?” Kevine asks, while Andrea continues pretending to read the most interesting article on her phone. According to some vague tweets made by classmates, their history teacher is fucking a student. While Andrea doesn’t give a shit about any of these people, she does like to read about drama and would like to know which student is getting that (rumored) donkey dick.
Kevine shakes a full glass of green goo in her face, and she dutifully slips one side of her headphones backward.
“Ew,” she says, pulling a face.
“It’s good for you.”
“It’s green.”
“Yes, that means it’s good for you.”
“I’d rather kill myself.”
“That’s not funny,” Kevine rolls her eyes, which is an improvement over the first time Andrea made that joke and Kevine almost called her therapist to book Andrea an appointment.
Andrea’s mom is a therapist, and she thinks the jokes are funny too.
“Is there ice cream left?”
Kevine shrugs and starts chugging the green sludge. “You’re the only one who eats it, so if there isn’t there’s only you to blame.”
“One of your jock friends could have stolen it.”
Kevine stares at her for a little too long. “You know I don’t bring them to our dorm.”
Pleased, Andrea settles down deeper into her bean bag. “Make me a milkshake?”
“No.”
“Oh come on, you’re up already, and the blender is out.”
“There’s still some smoothie left in it.”
This means she made enough for both of them, despite knowing Andrea would never sink that low.
“Okay, and? Throw that shit out.”
“Fuck off, Andrea. You want a milkshake so bad, you can make it yourself.”
“But I’m so comfortable,” she says, stretching out like a cat and feeling her dress ride up her thighs. Her eyes are closed but she can feel Kevine’s stare on her.
After a fun and tense silence, Kevine says, “F-fine. I’ll make you a milkshake, on one condition.”
Andrea opens her eyes, relaxes from her stretch and decidedly doesn’t pull her dress back down. “What’s that, princess?”
Kevin blushes and pulls her ponytail tighter, a move she always does before stepping onto the court to make herself feel more confident. “You gotta watch the match with me tonight, on the flatscreen. I’m tired of watching them on my shitty laptop with headphones on, I wanna enjoy it.”
Andrea rolls her eyes and grunts. “I’m not watching your stupid fucking stickball game, especially when it’s not our own team. I don’t give a flying fuck about them. Just because you flood your basement every time Jeremy Knox is on screen—”
“I do not —”
“--doesn’t mean I should care!”
“We’re gonna be playing them next semester!”
“ I’m not!”
“Only because you’re too stubborn to admit you would be great at exy. Andrea, come on, I know you used to love the sport. I’ve seen old videos. You’d be such an asset to the team.”
Andrea sighs and rubs her temples. “Not this shit again.”
“Just think about it. Come watch us practice. Watch the Trojans game—”
She’s really not gonna stop fucking talking about this, Andrea realizes. She knows how Kevine gets once she starts on a tangent, and exy produces the biggest tangents of all. Andrea will do anything, risk everything, to get out of this.
“Kev,” Andrea interrupts her.
There’s hope in Kevine’s eyes, thinking she’s finally worn her down. “Yeah?”
“If I eat you out, will you shut up about this?” Andrea asks, sitting up and staring her down so she knows she’s not kidding.
“I—” Kevin falters. Swallows thickly. “W-what?”
“You heard what I said. Will you?”
Kevine looks to the side, and on anyone else it would be rejection, but Andrea knows this means Kevine is considering it, weighing the pros against the cons. It’s such an annoyingly cute quirk.
Kevine looks back over, decision made. “Yes.”
“Alright,” Andrea stands. “Bedroom.”
Their bedroom consists of two twin beds, each shoved against their respective wall, leaving only a few feet in between. It means the distance is almost nonexistent at night, and Andrea has thought about leaning over and touching Kev’s dangling hand on more than one occasion.
Now, however, the scant few feet mean that when Kevine is undressing, she’s doing it practically pressed up against Andrea who’s refusing to sit down first and get out of the way.
She enjoys watching Kev pull her shirt up and tug it off, ruffling her bangs. The movement of her abdominal muscles, her hip dips when she pulls her shorts down.
When she’s dressed in only her boy shorts and a sports bra, Andrea shoves her and makes her fall back on her bed.
Kevine swears at her and Andrea smirks. She pulls her own oversized t-shirt that doubles as a dress off, leaving her in her bralette and torn fishnets.
She’s seen Kevine staring at her thighs on more than one occasion, focussing on the way the flesh presses against the nets when she squats. There’s a pair she lost that she’s pretty sure Kev has stolen out of her laundry basket.
“Lie back and get comfortable,” Andrea instructs, crawling on the bed in between Kev’s spread legs.
Kevine is breathing heavily, her chest visibly moving up and down.
“Relax, baby, none of your jock friends ever ate you out before?”
“No,” Kev says, decidedly unashamed about it. “No one’s ever touched me.”
“That’s a pity,” Andrea says, letting her hands slowly slide their way up Kevine’s thighs. “Pretty girl like you should be getting fingered on the daily. No wonder you’re so stressed.”
Her hands slip inside the legs of Kev’s shorts, and Andrea tugs at the fabric playfully.
“Are you?” At Andrea’s confused look, Kevine clarifies, “Getting fingered?”
Andrea smirks and pulls Kev’s shorts down, making her gasp. “Don’t worry about that, princess. I’ve got toys to take care of me.”
Kev moans when Andrea makes her pull her legs up. “Show—show me?”
Andrea pulls back, and when she knows Kev’s eyes are closed and she won’t see it coming, she spanks her on her left thigh, hard.
“Fuck!” Kevine moans. Andrea can see the way Kevine’s pussy clenches at that, the way it dribbles a little bit.
“That’s not what we’re here to do, now is it?”
Kevine’s eyes are wide open, staring at Andrea. She’s holding the backs of her knees, showing herself off so prettily. “Can you… Can you do that again?”
Andrea pulls her eyebrow up, but grins. “Do what again?”
Kev takes a deep breath. “Spank m—”
She’s interrupted by Andrea’s flat hand landing on her right thigh, higher up this time.
She whimpers, and Andrea is pleased to find her pussy dripping even harder. Looks like she has a hair-trigger, and Andrea considers licking one wide stripe up to see if Kevine would come from that. She seems on edge enough for it.
“Have you had fingers in you before?” Kevine shakes her head and moans long and loud, her head dropping backward when Andrea slips two fingers in at once. “You sure? You’re awfully loose down here.”
She’s so wet, Andrea notes, and debates on adding a third finger, Kevine’s pussy is practically sucking her in. She lets her thumb play around with her wet clit for a bit, teasing her and checking how sensitive she is.
Kevine is mewling, and her hand reaches down to tug at Andrea’s shaggy hair.
“Fuck me, Andrea, need you inside—”
Andrea pulls free from her loose grip and says, “I decide what I do to you,” and pulls her fingers out so she can slap her hand down hard, right on Kevine’s pussy.
Kevine wails, but more surprisingly, she starts squirting. A big stream is erupting out of her, and Andrea is quick to ruin her even more by rubbing her hand against her quivering pussy lips, grinding against her engorged clit, making Kev scream even more because it just keeps coming out in gushes and bursts. Andrea’s covered in her come, but Kevine has not stopped screaming or shaking, and Andrea doesn’t let up until the last burst has passed.
“Fine,” Kevine mumbles, more relaxed than ever before. “No exy, as long as you keep doing that.”
Andrea pulls Kevine’s knees back up. “Didn’t I just say I make the decisions around here?” she says, leaning down.