Butterfield

Charles Rolly had just finished lugging his footlocker into room 313. He was sitting on it, fanning himself in the late August heat of 2005. The six-foot tall, two-hundred-pound brunette had earned himself a full scholarship to Michigan State University in East Lansing, MI. It was a two-hour drive from his little hometown of Fremont, MI, north-northwest of the college. He’d been assigned to Butterfield Dormitory and quickly found out it was the only one with air-conditioning. He immediately flipped on the power switch and stood in front of the fan for five minutes.

The door behind him opened and in strolled a taller guy in gym shorts and a jersey proclaiming Portland Raiders in red-and-white. He had a close-cropped beard and hair, all blonde. He could’ve stepped off the cover of Gentleman’s Quarterly.

“Kevin. Kevin Standiford,” the tall fellow said using an obviously-fake deep voice, extending his hand. “And you are?”

“Charles Rolly. Nice to meet you,” he replied, shaking hands. The two gripped each other for half a minute before finally letting go. Each one, when asked later, would say they’d won that little greeting. It was a thing guys do, to test each other’s mettle. The stronger hand-shaker declared himself the winner. “Where’s your stuff?” Charles asked.

“I paid two freshmen to bring them up for me,” he said with an air about him.

“What? You’re not a freshman?” Charles asked incredulously.

“Course I am! But I’m bigger than they are, right? Besides, why lug something when you don’t have to?” Kevin smiled broadly. “Ten bucks each was well worth it. You look exhausted. Did you bring that big thing up here all by yourself?” he chuckled. “I’ll take the window seat.”

Charles let himself be pushed aside. He preferred to be away from the window anyway. But he did flip his bed over so that the mattress was three feet off the floor, instead of only eighteen inches. The beds were constructed to flip, or fit one atop the other in bunk-bed style. Since there were only two beds, the guys were correct in assuming there would be no third roommate. Not everyone in Butterfield had been so lucky though.

After unpacking, Charles flipped open his cell and called his girlfriend. “Mary? You unpacked yet? Great. Come on over. You can meet my roommate. Yeah, 313. See you soon...love you too.” He flipped the phone closed and turned to Kevin. “You’ll like Mary. She’s everything a guy like me could ever need.”

Kevin wondered what that statement meant, but didn’t respond. “What’s your major?” he did ask. “Mine’s Underwater Basket Weaving,” he joked. “I’m actually here on a golf scholarship.”

“Amateur Logology,” Charles quipped. “I’m on the tennis team; four-year, fully-paid. Guess this is a jock’s room, then, eh?” Then he pulled out an old jersey proclaiming the Fremont Packers in white-on-red.

“What the fuck is Amateur - whatever?”

“Logology. Having to do with big words. I’m an eminent lexicographer. Oh well, you’ll find out soon enough,” Charles laughed. There was a soft knock on the door and both heads turned to see Mary standing there. She slipped into the room and into Charles’ arms, standing on tiptoes to peck his cheek. Her perky breasts rubbed the inside of her white cotton t-shirt as she kept hugging him. The sweat that had accumulated at certain areas of her shirt made it obvious to both guys that she was not wearing a bra.

Charles cupped her ass and gave it a long squeeze, eliciting a squeal from Mary. He used a finger to pull her shirt away from her neck and peer down inside it. “Very nice,” he complimented her. Her blonde hair fell in little ringlets down to the middle of her back. She couldn’t have been taller than five feet, five inches, but seemed to fit perfectly into Charles’ embrace.

Mary, accustomed to such behavior from her boyfriend, didn’t even blush. Instead, she turned to the other guy and said, “Well? Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Charles removed his finger from her shirt and said, “Kevin, Mary Hush, my longtime lover, BFF and all-around nice piece of ass! Mary, this is –“

“Kevin Standiford, ma’am,” he interrupted. “At your service. Your friend Charles here has told me nothing about you, save for that one wisecrack. How’d you like to have drinks with me in - say - about an hour? We’ll discuss your future here at good old MSU,” Kevin tried to be smooth. He continued to use what his little sister had described as “the voice”. He could see it was having an affect on Mary.

“Oh, you are a charmer, aren’t you?” Mary said, her hand now squeezing Charles’ backside. “Any chance you could leave us alone for an hour first? We have a lot of catching up to do. Don’t we, darling?” Mary asked first Kevin, then her boyfriend.

Just then, another knock came on the dorm door. It was the two smaller kids that Kevin had paid to bring up his belongings. He squeezed a ten-spot into each of their eager hands and then went about unpacking his stuff. As he took his time putting things away, he looked over his shoulder and said, “Oh, don’t mind me. I won’t be but a minute. Go on about your business.”

But neither Mary nor Charles complied. They were patient enough. When it became clear to Kevin that they were waiting for him to leave, he eventually said he was going to stroll the campus and see the sights. As soon as he stepped into the hall, he heard the door lock behind him.

Too bad we’re on the third floor, he mused. Or else I’d be using my binoculars on these two. Wonder what she does for him? Kevin returned exactly one hour later, but was disappointed to see the two lovebirds fully dressed and not the least bit sweaty. He tried to strike up a conversation with the brunette nymph.

“And what’s your Major, Mary? And more importantly, where’s your dorm?” he asked.

“Sports Medicine / Psychology, Mr. Smarty-pants. And you’ll never learn the second one!” she scooted out of the room and used a thumb-and-pinkie-finger gesture to show Charles she wanted him to call her later.

“Nice ass,” Kevin said, after she’d left.

“She sure does,” Charles said, absent-mindedly.

Classes began the next day. Eventually, the roommates only saw each other after dinner, or heading in and out of their dorm room. Kevin’s golf classes were scheduled for dawn, whereas Charles would be playing tennis in the late afternoon. Despite having been assigned to take prerequisite courses in Psychology and Mathematics, they did not share professors.

As September disappeared into October, the weather turned a bit more brisk. Luckily, there was an indoor-field on which Mary could run and Charles could play tennis. Kevin was spending more of his time indoors during that month. It wouldn’t be until late November, just before Thanksgiving break, that he’d run into Mary again. It was all just an innocent happenstance that she’d arrived at the dorm room the same time Kevin had. It was a Tuesday afternoon.

Mary couldn’t possibly have foreseen that Charles would be held up by a professor. She’d grown accustomed to seeing Kevin’s body during the first few months of school. He’d always found an excuse to go take a shower when she and Charles were together. She couldn’t have minded; it left them alone for at least half an hour, which was plenty of time to get up to some mild-mannered mischief.

Kevin unlocked the door and said, “Ladies first,” mainly so he could watch Mary’s cute little ass walk into the room ahead of him. Not two minutes before arriving at the dorm, Kevin had received a call from Charles.

“Professor Daimsler has decided we all need to work on forehand mathematics. If Mary comes by, tell her I’ll be back around six, okay?” Kevin had said he would pass the message on. But now, glancing at the wall clock, he saw that they’d have a little over ninety minutes of time to pass before his roommate’s return. Kevin wasted no time.

“Want a snort?” he asked, pulling out a bottle of Smirnov Ice.

“What? I’ve never tried that. Is it good? I guess one little drink wouldn’t hurt,” Mary replied innocently.

But after two shots, she was handing the glass back, asking for more. They were sitting on opposite beds, staring at each other. Mary had to lean way over to grab the glass, offering Kevin more than a fair shot at her cleavage.

“Wow. That is nice,” she cooed. “Is it getting hot in here?” Mary stood up and swooned. Kevin caught her arm and sat her down beside him. He glanced at the clock again. Still over an hour before Charles was due back. He got a sudden idea.

“Do you like cards, Mary?” he pulled a deck of playing cards out of a desk drawer. “Don’t worry, it’s not strip poker!”

But Mary wondered if she wouldn’t mind seeing more of Kevin’s body. His smooth chest was in great contrast to Charles’ hairy one. She could see his fingers were longer, making her wonder if something else wasn’t longer too.

“What is it then?”

“Idiot’s delight.” Kevin saw the confused look on her face, so he continued. “I turn the cards over one at a time, calling out the number in sequence. If the card I call turns up, we toss it out of the pile. At the end of one turn, we count how many cards were tossed. Before we start, we choose a number. Whoever matches that number, wins.”

Mary was a little confused, possibly due to the vodka she was still slamming, so she asked for an example. Kevin explained that he’d choose five and she’d choose seven. If, at the end of the first time through the pile, the number of cards discarded were five, he’d win; seven, she’d win; any number other than that, and neither would win.

“But, what does the winner win?” she asked. “Or the loser, lose?”

“Very good question, Mary. Let’s start out with something easy, shall we? Say, a kiss?” Upon seeing her reluctance, he added, “Or whatever you desire.”

“Okay. Let’s do it!” she said and then hiccuped. She was reaching for the bottle now, but Kevin moved it away. “I’ll say six.” Kevin chose four. Not that it would matter.

When the pile had been turned over once, there were six cards in the discard pile. Kevin announced that she’d won and asked her what she desired. To his surprise, she asked for another shot of vodka. Then she leaned her body onto his arm and put a hand around his neck.

“Can I change my mind?” she asked, after having the shot. Kevin said she could, so she said, “I want a kiss.” She turned Kevin’s head and planted a wet kiss on his lips. Breaking apart, she said, “Round two. I choose four this time!” Kevin chose seven.

By the time they’d gone through the deck four times, they were sharing tongues. At the end of the fifth round, Kevin had won and had asked for a little something extra. Mary obligingly let him put his hand down the front of her shorts, inside her panties. His finger slid inside her slit and she rubbed her chest against his shoulder. The cards fell to the floor. Mary bent down to pick them up and gasped as Kevin grabbed her buttocks in both hands. When she straightened up again, she was sitting back against his bulge.

She grabbed Kevin’s hands and slipped them under her shirt, saying, “Pinch the nipples. Hard. It gets me off!” Sure enough, she moaned with delight as he did as instructed. “Oh baby. Where do you want me?”

Kevin was just about to answer her, when he glanced at the clock. It was five-fifty. He didn’t know if he could fuck her in ten minutes. But he was determined to give her something to remember him by. Ignoring her question, he spun Mary around to face him and slipped his hand inside her shorts again. This time, two of his fingers slipped inside her and she clamped her lips on his.

The door opened and there stood Charles, a look of shock on his face. He did a double-take and then stepped into the room, slamming the door behind him.

“What the fuck?” he yelled. “Mary? Kevin? What are you two doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Mary asked over her shoulder. “Where the hell have you been? We had to play cards without you.” Then she turned back to Kevin and bit his earlobe. She whispered, “Later,” and reluctantly slipped off his lap. Kevin’s fingers were visibly wet, but he made no effort to wipe them off. Instead, he held them under his nose and inhaled deeply.

That evening, at dinner, Charles and Mary had their first real fight. She’d explained that she was horny as hell and where the hell was he and how dare he accuse her. But she was just rambling. Charles tried to calm his girlfriend down a bit, not wanting to make a huge scene in the cafeteria.

“Didn’t Kevin tell you I’d called and said I’d be late?” He was beginning to wonder if he shouldn’t have made that call, now. But he’d tried calling Mary’s phone first. She must have left it in her room, so he’d called his roommate. Bad choice, he realized, all too late. “Well, we’ll just keep away from Kevin for a while then. I’ll visit you in your dorm room from now on.”

But Mary wasn’t about to agree to that. She’d had just about enough of Charles’ controlling her. This was college, after all. They weren’t married. She wanted to get out and see the sights, see what life had to offer her, besides this Prom King from Fremont High. She knew Charles’ schedule. Next chance she got, she’d be knocking on his dorm room door, hoping to find Kevin alone inside.

That chance happened two days later. Kevin had just come back from showering and was using his key to unlock the door, when Mary stepped up beside him. “Got class?”

“Not today. Let me get dressed and we’ll go to your room,” he suggested.

“Okay, but first, I want to see something,” she said, pushing into the room behind him. She waited until the door closed before yanking the towel off his waist. “Whoa. Nice.”
Then she knelt at Kevin’s feet and looked up at him with wide-eyes, pleadingly. Her fingers encircled his shaft and she opened her mouth to take his head in. She licked her lips first and then his mushroom head.

“Oh, crap, Mary,” Kevin said, leaning against his bed. “That feels great. Shit. You’re gonna get a surprise!” Then he grabbed a handful of hair and shot a huge load down her throat. Mary swallowed it all and kept stroking his long, thick shaft.

When Mary stood up again, she said, “I thought so. And, not a surprise at all. My room number is 200, by the stairwell. See you in a few?” Then she pranced out of the room and scampered to her own room.

Not more than five minutes later, she let Kevin in to her room. Her roommate, Beth Fries, had just gone to the first of five classes she’d had scheduled for the day. They wouldn’t be interrupted for several hours. She turned off the lights, locked the door and slid the chain across it, just to be sure. Then she flopped down on her back on her bed and wiggled a finger at Kevin.

On his way back to his room, after a slow love-making session with Mary, Kevin called home. “Sis? Yeah. Having a great time! Wish you were here!” He paused and listened. “No, I mean it. Come on up. You have got to meet my roommate. I swear! Okay, see you in half an hour sis. Bye.”


If was nearly five when Maria Standiford knocked on her brother’s dorm room door. He wasn’t there at the time, having just stepped into the shower. But Charles was there. He opened the door and gazed upon the red-haired beauty, mouth agape. She was a full four inches shorter than Mary, but with a better figure, he would soon discover.

“Is Kevin here?” she asked, putting her hand against his stomach and pushing him aside to look.

“And you are?” he said, finally finding his tongue. His eyes followed her tight little body into the tiny dorm room. His temperature began to rise. He sincerely hoped she wasn’t one of his roommate’s girlfriends. It was tough enough having him steal his girl. But if this was any indication that he had several going at once, he was determined to let Mary know.

“Maria. Didn’t he tell you he’d invited me here? You’re Charlie, right?” she said with the most innocent look he’d ever seen. He usually bristled at the name “Charlie”, but the way Maria had said it, he didn’t seem to mind at all. The way the tip of her tongue pressed against her teeth when she pronounced “L” got him thinking all kinds of lewd thoughts. When he didn’t respond, she continued, saying, “You must be. You’re in his room and you look like you belong here. Charlie, I’m Kevin’s little sister.”

She stuck out her hand as if to shake his, but when he reached for her hand, she grabbed his arm and pulled his face down to hers. “Oh, too awkward,” she said, then stepped up onto a chair. “That’s better. Come here....”

Kevin cleared his throat behind them. Charles had his face buried in Maria’s chest. Somewhere in the past two minutes, she’d lost her blouse and they had both “discovered” she wasn’t wearing a bra. His hands were cupping her buttocks and she was playing tonsil hockey with her tongue.

“Hi sis. Looks like you met Charles. Let me just grab a book and I’ll be out of here in no time,” Kevin said. But he lingered a bit, as if trying to decide on the right pair of shorts. He knew his sister was smoking-hot, but had no idea how pretty she’d become while he’d been away at college. He was glad he’d opted for on-campus housing, rather than commuting to his home every night. The benefits of Mary Hush notwithstanding, he could see where Charles and Maria would be spending quite a few evenings discovering the back alleys of Portland, MI. That would free up his own room for something he planned on doing with Mary.

Mary hadn’t realized just how sheltered a life she had led before attending MSU. Sure, Fremont High had been a little hole-in-the-wall place. But not only was Kevin longer and thicker than Charles, he knew his way around a woman’s body. True, she’d lost her virginity to Charles, that long night after Prom. He’d been voted King and she, Queen. But even now, looking back on it, their love-making had always been frantic. This afternoon, Kevin had shown her what love was really like and how it could be. She just wondered how poor old Charles would take rejection. He’d admitted she was his first. Oh well, she thought. Too bad, so sad.


Mary answered her cell and was glad to hear Kevin’s voice on the other end. “It’s just you and me babe. Dinner and a movie, or just someplace quiet?”

“Quiet sounds nice. I’ll be ready in ten minutes. Knock three times, okay baby?” she hung up.

In Room 313, Charles and Maria were discovering just how much they had in common.
“He told me to meet you. My brother has always known how much I love the strong silent type. And you’re just big enough for me. Too big is too much. Yes, I’ve seen his instrument. No, we’re not that way. Enough talk. Maria wants to show you something,” she said, her voice trailing off.

Charles tilted his head back and let out a low, guttural moan. Mary had never done that before. He was suddenly glad things had turned out the way they had. Thank heaven for little girls!



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