Janelle watched as the wooden door clicked open and scraped against the linoleum floor, like all the doors did in all the dorms, and Dennis walked in, finishing a plastic cup of coffee, his hair pointing out on all sides. Janelle had put her bra on by now, but she still couldn’t find the motivation to get up from this gross bed. She could tell by the way Dennis paused that he was studying her legs. They were crossed over each other as she lay on top of his mattress with the sheets thrown on the side. She tried to make it look like she’d expected him to bring back food. “I should really leave soon,” she said. “Whatever,” said Dennis. He sat at his desk and turned on his computer. He opened up World of Warcraft. “Um, Dennis? Did anybody ever teach you manners?” Janelle laughed as she said it. “Not really. My Dad was always yelling at me and my sister at inappropriate times. My Mom was always drunk. You do the math.” The sounds of World of Warcraft began. Janelle stared at him. “You aren’t serious,” she said. Dennis took some time to respond. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he said. “Because I can never tell if you’re being serious or not. Everything seems ironic to you. Like a joke or something.” “Maybe I find everything ironic and funny and serious.” Dennis played the game. Janelle looked at the mattress. Perhaps this was the motivation. She stood and took her jeans from the floor. She noticed her right bra strap was twisted. She flipped it around the right way. She pulled on her black panties that she’d been wearing for days. She threw on her blue silk shirt that made her itch. She didn’t look at Dennis but assumed he was watching her out of the corners of his eyes. Before she could buckle her jeans her arms dropped to her sides. She listened to the sounds of Dennis’ computer and felt that she had to say something. “Dennis, are you okay?” Dennis stopped tapping the keyboard. He stared at the computer and looked as if he was trying to control his breathing. Janelle didn’t know what it meant, but there was something imposing about Dennis, something intimidating, even with him sitting in that chair, a foot below her, dressed in a ratty shirt and cargo pants. Janelle straightened her shirt. “Okay, I’m going now. I’ve got homework to catch up on. I…” Dennis pushed his computer down his desk until it bumped against his wall. He stood and strode over to Janelle. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever felt this way about,” he said. Janelle felt like a camera was zooming in on her slowly. “Felt what about?” she said. “This absurd urge to fuck you.” He said it like he was stating an item on a menu. Janelle turned and went to the door. She stopped and stared at the door handle. She heard him approach. She felt his hand slide across her stomach. Her shirt felt like it had already torn off under his fingers. Janelle felt Dennis’ fingers and remembered sucking them the night before. She remembered his tongue swishing from side to side on her clitoris and up and down. His fingers were placed on her lips as if to silence her—and Janelle wasn’t that loud. She wanted to be straightforward in sex as she was in life. She would moan exactly as much as she enjoyed it, and she had enjoyed it moderately. When she felt Dennis’ tongue, it made her feel very strange at first; almost as if there were some kind of fish flopping around on her private parts. But this was because only one other guy had attempted to do this to her before, and he was a disaster. Dennis knew what he was doing. His tongue moved the same way his personality moved; impersonal, energetic, fast, tingly. He rubbed two of his fingers on his other hand at a lower part of her clitoris while he worked with his tongue. Other girls had probably climaxed from the way he did it. But Janelle could only let herself feel pretty good. Nothing more. So she had sucked on his middle finger and forefinger. His skin was rough and the tips of his fingers were calloused. They were these knobby, hard things that had probably been in fights before and had either played guitar or done a lot of manual labor, or both. They had made the tingly sensation circling around her groin decrease. Janelle pried his fingers out of her mouth. But Dennis had already stopped and was staring at her, his mouth ringed with saliva and her wetness. He had stood, taken a tissue, wiped his mouth, wiped his fingers. He crumpled the tissue and tossed it on her chest. It bounced below her breasts and lay there. “If you’re not in to it, then you should just say something,” Dennis said. He climbed in to his briefs and strode out the door, slamming it. She had heard his shower running. Fucking asshole. She fell asleep anyway.
And so this morning, when she heard Dennis announce his desire, when she felt Dennis’ fingers fold together over her bellybutton, she was surprised. She thought he had wanted her to leave. She had wanted to leave. For some reason, now she didn’t. Dennis’ tongue flicked in to her ear. The thought of having actual intercourse with Dennis crossed her mind only then and she knew that if she didn’t do it she would feel bored. She would end up taking out the vibrator by the end of the day. So she turned around and her mouth met his.
She pressed a hand to his chest while he moved in and out of her. She had a view of his chest, his neck and his red face as he moved fast and hard. Janelle shut her eyes and realized, momentarily, how loud she sounded. She knew she wouldn’t cum for another few minutes at least, and her moans were already this loud. Embarrassed, she used her other arm to bunch the pillow she lay on over her face. It didn’t muffle her that much. Dennis’ cock moved even faster and he made some kind of satisfied grunting sound. He was turned on by her pillow move. Funny, that. In the brief pause between the trailing off of one moan and the start of another, Janelle threw in a “baby.” She smiled when she felt him get even more turned on. The walls of her clitoris were sucked together when his cock pushed back and expanded back out when he pushed back in. He was moving so hard and so quickly that she would later, in an erotic chat room, coin the term “Accordion Fucking.” Janelle began to feel the familiar tingling sensation in her groin. It pulsed up in to her thighs. She turned her face from the pillow—she needed all the air she could get at this time–and clawed at one of Dennis’ nipples. Every noise that escaped her mouth was aimed right at that nipple, as if she were broadcasting through a microphone. The thought made her giggle. She saw Dennis’ chest muscles flexing and his skin reddening and it made her eyes widen. She said “I’m so…”, and forgot what she was saying for a moment. She felt a renewed moistness. She said, “wet.”
John heard the sex happening as soon as he woke up. It was, perhaps, the thing that woke him up. He hated living next door to Dennis. That moody, unpredictable dude who was somehow a chick magnet. This girl’s moans sounded deeper than the previous girls he’d overheard. This one was moaning exactly in rhythm with the mattress squeaking. Dennis said something and John heard a smacking sound. Did he just slap her ass? Do they let him do that? John realized that, once again, he was hard. He’d had sex just once, months ago now, and it had been such a terrifying experience for him that the girl had never spoken to him again. He thought of the argument he’d overheard taking place in Dennis’ room just the week before. Some girl—a different girl, he felt—had been crying, telling Dennis that if he did not tell Janelle and Katie to get the fuck out of his life then she was never talking to him again. She called him a narcissist. Dennis spoke in a low, calm voice. John had thought, at the time, maybe that’s the end of it. Now the female noises on the other side of the wall were reaching a higher pitch. The mattress sounded like it was shaking. The girl said, between broken breaths, “I’m so…wet.” And with that, John sighed to himself, got out of bed, and went to grab a tissue.
Weeks later, Janelle would tell her friend Kathy about how she had not expected him to pull out of her just before she could climax, fling his condom off and spray his cum all over her chest. He’d done it as if it was practiced and planned. She’d thought it was degrading. Then why, Kathy had said, did you send him those photos? Why did you fuck him again? Janelle shrugged at this. She stared down at her lap. Her blue shorts that she’d owned since age fifteen were too tight on her now. Her skin bulged out from them. She thought of how Dennis had told her she had beautiful legs, and she remembered being charmed by the way he said it. I dunno, she answered Kathy, in a quiet voice. He was charming, I guess.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/2li1j1/dennis_and_janelle