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My half of the room looks fucking awesome. Seriously cool. I dragged the beanbag halfway across campus, I got my flags tacked up (with poster putty, since we’re not supposed to make any holes in the wall period), I have my plants all potted and my desk all organized. The June sun is streaming through my windows, showing all of the dust I unsettled moving things around. My dumb twin XL bed is made with new sheets I picked up from Target and an Animal Crossing live stream is playing on my laptop.

This is gonna be my fucking summer.

The first year of college was okay. It was fine. Despite the two weeks I spent sniffling about how I was never going to make any friends, I made a couple of really good buddies. My room was our hangout spot, namely because I didn’t have a roommate. We could chill all hours of the night and nobody was going to yell at us to shut the fuck up or alternatively bring their partner over to make love with during the hangout. The hours watching movies and playing Stardew Valley were great, of course, but I could’ve been doing the same thing back at home. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t good, but also doesn’t mean it’s not true.

That’s what I missed my freshman year of college. The college stuff. I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I’m not one for partying or streaking at football games or, you know, that stuff. I still haven’t lost my virginity. I think just getting to college in the first place was already a big step and making friends at all was like swimming upstream – when a relationship didn’t fall into my lap, pursuing one seemed like overkill.

None of that matters now. This is my summer. I’m still on campus doing an internship with Medicago truncatula in the biology lab (yippee), but that’s only for maybe 10 hours a week. The rest of the time I get to lounge around in the Northeastern woods and do all of the things I wasn’t even considering this year. My friends aren’t on campus anymore, which you’d think would suck but I’m calling an opportunity. I can’t spend my night watching Studio Ghibli in my room with the blinds drawn so no light comes in. I know where everything is on campus now, I have my little job and lots of free time, and I get a roommate!

This is where I would put a sketch from my notebook of me and my potential roommate dancing together and having fun, by the way. For some reason, administration makes us haul ass across campus to the summer housing building when my old housing was perfectly reasonable, but I don’t care. I get a roommate! Oh yeah oh yeah. The thing I wanted most when I went to college was a roommate – I’m an only child and never got the chance to learn how to live with and around someone, and it sucked when they stuck me in one of the only single-occupancy rooms just to torture me. Seriously, everyone else wanted to live alone and I’m the only person who wanted a roommate. Man.

It’s so nice outside. The warm wind comes through my (open!) window and flows through my fur. I lie on my bed with my notebook out and smile. I got this.

I haven’t actually met my roommate yet. I’ve exchanged pleasant conversation with him on his empty Instagram account and he seems pleasant, and I think he must be at the same 9 AM bio lectures that I’m at, but he’s moving in later tonight. It’s just me right now!

That means I get to make my list of goals for the summer. I mostly used this notebook to draw me and my friends and write down what crops I was going to buy to min-max my Stardew game, but I am going to pour myself into it now. I’m not getting anywhere this summer if I don’t.

I put “LOSE MY VIRGINITY!!!” in all caps with three exclamation marks at the top, and then I underline it a few times for emphasis. I know I’m cute, I know I’m tall, I’m built, I definitely have a personality… a dick to die for, whatever. It’s only a matter of time.

That is the most important item on my list, the one that usurps all others. If I do nothing else this summer, I want to lose my virginity. Bountiful sex is next on the list, but I just need it one time. I brainstorm for about 20 minutes and come up with my full list.

Then, at the bottom of the page, I make a little drawing of myself with my dick out giving a thumbs up. I’m the classiest person I know, I think.

I sat back, satisfied. It’s not the most extreme list ever — I don’t have interspecies gangbang on there, for instance — but it still seems daunting. I don’t know where to even begin. I know for a fact I’m not using an app. I want to walk out onto campus and organically get fucked. How you do that, I don’t know, but I have the whole summer to decide.

I decide to add one last item to the list:

This, I realize, is the last time I’m gonna be able to be naked in my room (SAD!!!) unless my roommate gets cool about a whole lot of things very quickly. I close the window and I throw my sweatshirt and shorts off. I keep the beanie on and lower my underwear around my ankles. There is nothing better than being mostly mostly mostly naked, save for my briefs which are hanging on my feet, half-hard. My body knows I wanna jerk off and it gets me ready.

I hold my dick in my paw and chuckle to myself as I feel it harden fully in my grasp. Here’s to a good summer. I start massaging the head of my dick with my forefinger, back and forth. I bite my lip.

Now that I’m horny, how I’m going to lose my virginity quickly goes from questions to answers. My first idea is that my new roommate is going to be a horndog and I’ll wake up in the middle of the night to find him jerking off and we’ll go from there. If I’m honest, that’s really why I wanted a roommate before college. I can’t say it’s good to prime my brain like that but my dick really likes the idea, and soon enough I am throwing my head back and pounding away at my dick at the thought. It’s so primal in my mind — I’m not imagining any specific scenario, not thinking about anyone in particular. I’m just getting off to the rush of finally getting this thing I’ve always wanted.

I have to stop myself before I’m cumming all over the bean bag 300 seconds into my jerkoff session. Consider other possibilities. I let my dick rest for a bit and it throbs in anticipation.

I could always go to a party and turn the charm up to 100. I don’t know how to do that. Maybe if I just stand in the corner and look cute enough someone will come up to me and we’ll hit it off. I don’t want a hookup, though, I want something real. Not that that’s the main issue with this strategy.

I could go up to cute guys in the dining hall and ask them out, or maybe I’ll meet someone cute in my bio lab. I don’t know!

There’s not a bigger boner killer than thinking about social interaction. I realize I’m half flaccid now. Sad. I grasp my dick in my paw again and give it a little shake and I’m right back to where I was at. Actually, getting soft and hard again gives it a little extra kick. Each stroke feels a little more intense now. I decide that I’m smart enough to distinguish the thoughts I have when I’m horny from the thoughts I have when I’m not. I can keep thinking about this. Nothing bad will happen.

I hold my free paw over my muzzle and start jerking myself off faster. I allow myself to grunt under my breath but since I haven’t figured out how thick the walls are here, I don’t full-out whine like I usually do. It’s hard not to whine when these feels so fucking good. I pick a specific fantasy — that same one about helping out my sexually frustrated roommate in the middle of the night — and play out his theoretical climax over and over again until I can feel my body heading the same way.

It feels damn good. It’s kind of odd jerking off in a new place when I’ve done it exactly the same way every day for a year (oh my god, how am I going to jerk off every day with a roommate?), but spreading out on the bean bag like this, separating my legs as far as I can and letting it all air out, it’s damn fucking good. My cock throbs each time I stroke it.

Orgasm hits me like a truck. I tilt my cock to the left and cum all over my thigh, shooting ropes down to my knee. I use every muscle in my body to keep myself in the position I am so I can feel pure orgasm, just pleasure rushing out of my body, and soon enough I collapse onto the bean bag. Despite my best efforts, a little bit of cum drips onto the fabric. It’s okay. It’s okay.

I pant, trying to regain control of myself. This is where my roommate walks in, my brain sort of hopes. This is where it all begins.

But as the horniness washes away from my brain and no guy walks through the door, I realize this is going to be harder than I first thought.

I wipe the cum off of my thigh with my underwear and breathe out. None of that matters. I’m going to do it anyway.

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