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Introduction:

Problems in the family
Snow College, the community college where I briefly attended, had many prohibitions against basic man-whoring activities. The institution itself is highly influenced by the doctrine of the Mormon Church, as many of the students who attend there, along with their professors, are de facto members of the hokey religion. Class study about the Book of Mormon and church history courses are readily available through the on-grounds LDS Institute and much of the conduct code of the college mirrors that of Brigham Young University. Because Snow College maintains an inextricable relationship to the Mormon Church, the standards of the LDS faith are strictly enforced within the residential living units on campus. Specifically, this meant that females were prohibited from spending the night within any male dormitory resident’s room. The dormitory complex where I stayed was no exception.

The Resident Assistant within my dormitory was a cookie-cutter Mormon missionary fuck who actively patrolled the hallways of my living unit at night. Bearing close similarity to the cock-blocking attitude of Mongobear, the RA would announce when it was time for all females to leave the dormitory each night and then make his rounds to each room, searching for stragglers. Without warning, the Resident Assistant had the power and authority to key open any dorm room that he was suspicious of harboring a female guest after hours. These random checks could come at any hour of the night and, if a female was found inside a resident’s bedroom, a fifty-dollar surcharge was fined to their student account, much like the bullshit that I went through while living with Bobby Boop and his deformed wife. When these room checks occurred, there was no verbal warning given, no announcement provided, and certainly no preceding knock before opening one’s bedroom door.

To help avoid the possibility of my naked fun being discovered by the Resident Assistant, I usually sneaked Brandy in through my dorm room window when she drove down from Salt Lake City to visit me. Fortunately, I lived on the ground level of the complex, which provided easy access to my room from the outside. All that was required was the removal of my window screen, which took place approximately twenty minutes after my arrival to campus. With a convenient entryway into my dorm room provided, Brandy frequented my domicile at all hours of the night. The only real complication in my plans was that Skoal, my tobacco-chewing roommate, was occasionally present when she arrived. Although Skoal would return to his parents’ home nearly every weekend, there were a few times when he remained on campus. His presence inside my room cramped my ability to strip Brandy’s clothes from off her thin body and offer her multiple climactic pleasures.

After experiencing several interruptions from Skoal while I was busy chewing, licking, or scrumping on Brandy, my roommate advised me of a universal symbol of communication that I was previously unaware of before I went to college. Before doing the shimmy-shimmy inside our shared bedroom, Skoal advised me that I should place a sock over the exterior door handle. When no sock was found dangling from the doorknob, it signaled that all was clear and that he could enter the room. But, when Skoal found some footwear wrapped around the doorknob, it meant that sweaty fun was taking place inside the room and that he should come back at a later time.

There were several occasions that I had my door keyed open in the middle of the night by the Resident Assistant. I rarely got caught with Brandy inside my room, however, because I could usually hear the RA approaching from down the hallway, harassing the Samoan residents to get their females out of the dormitory. Prior to the Resident Assistant ever reaching my room, I usually had Brandy hide inside my closet, underneath the bed cushions, or behind the door. I experienced several close calls with stashing Brandy in this manner and, on one occasion, got busted by a Samoan hater who saw her through the door crack, hiding near my closet. After she was discovered hiding in my bedroom, Brandy simply left the dormitory, only to return a few minutes later through my bedroom window. Nevertheless, this instance marked my room as one to be checked on a random basis by the Resident Assistant.

A few weeks after this initial discovery, I had Brandy naked inside my room for a late night romp session. Skoal was out of town but mentioned to me earlier that he might be returning. To prevent any coitus interruptions from him, I slipped a sock over the exterior door handle as we had previously discussed and then went to work on Brandy’s wet wound. About forty-five minutes later, I had Brandy arced on top of me as I was boning her from behind while lying on my back. Just as I was spreading her labia apart with my fingers so I could touch my slimy shaft move inside her, I heard loud pounding upon my door.

“Hey, man!” Skoal yelled from outside our bedroom while thunderously beating his fist on the door. “I need to drop off my bags!”

“I’m busy, dude!” I hollered back, as Brandy switched positions atop my pole to turn around and face me while she straddled my pelvis.

Laughter was heard from behind the door. “Just open up real quick! I’ll drop off my shit and leave. I won’t see nothing!”

I ignored Skoal’s pleas for entry into our bedroom and continued thrusting into Brandy from below. As much as I tried to concentrate on her pussy the loud pounding on the door continued to distract me. “Son of a bitch!” I yelled through the annoying knocks. “Didn’t you see the sock?”

”You’ve been in there long enough!” Skoal yelled back through the wooden obstruction. “I’ve been out here waiting for over an hour!”

“Go away!”

“Come on, man! Aren’t you done yet?”

“I’ll let you know when I take off the sock!” I screamed back. “Now get the fuck out of here!”

Silence returned to the hallway and Brandy’s moaning resumed within my musty-smelling dorm room. Several moments later the darkened dorm room was flooded with light. My door was slung open. Lying on my back, I tilted my head toward the door and saw the Resident Assistant staring back at me, standing with his hands on his hips like some god damn superhero. With Brandy riding my saddle, I quickly threw her to the side of me and covered her up with the blankets. It became abundantly clear that the commotion Skoal had created in the hallway had alerted the Resident Assistant’s attention.

“She needs to leave—now,” the RA stated to me in a prophetically Mormon tone. He closed the door and posted up in the hallway by my room to supervise Brandy’s exit.

I shrugged off the Resident Assistant’s admonition and resumed thrusting inside of Brandy, rapidly pumping to reach climax. After I pulled out and blew my soupy load of nut cream all over Brandy’s pale stomach, I got dressed and escorted her out to her car.

The week following my interrupted intercourse with Brandy, I received a bill in my campus mailbox for the total of fifty dollars. I had been fined for violating the unwritten standards of the Mormon-influenced community college dormitory. Not wanting to pay the fine, I marched over to the student housing office, looking to manipulate my way out of the bill.

“What is this all about?” I innocently asked the student housing director as I handed her the bullshit bill.

The woman took the bill in her hand and quickly looked it over. “Oh, yes, you’re Mr. Albertson. I heard about this little situation...”

“There’s nothing little about my situation,” I punned. “But I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Well, it was reported to us by your RA that you had a girl in your bedroom after hours.”

“That was my sister,” I prevaricated. “She drove all day from out of state to see me. She was really tired and didn’t want to drive at night. So, I let her stay.”

Lowering her eyeglasses down the crook of her nose, the woman looked up at me and said, “She was seen on top of you, in the nude.”

“… yeah… well, she was really tired.”

“Are you saying that the girl your RA saw on top of you was your sister?”

I tightly clenched my lips and nodded my head in the affirmative.
The student housing director blankly stared at me for a moment. “Well, Mr. Albertson, what you do in your family is your business. But if you plan to reside within our housing units, you will have to follow the rules. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The woman held onto my bill and placed it upon her desk. “We’ll just let this piece of paper serve as a warning then and not worry about the fine. You, evidently, have more important things in your personal life to correct. I’ll pray for you, young man, and let your bishop know about your struggles.”

“Uh, yes, I do,” I agreed. “And thank you, ma’am.” I promptly left the office, feeling ambivalent over the fact that I did not have to pay the fine but having the waiver come at the cost of fabricating an incestuous lifestyle with my sister. My personal integrity aside, I did not take any more chances with sneaking Brandy into my dorm room for our midnight rendezvous. Instead, I had her pay for a hotel room in town.
7 comments

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