The note taped to my textbook was scrawled in messy Sharpie: *“Back at 10. Dorm is free use till then. —J.”* My heart hammered against my ribs. Jess and I had joked about it, a stupid pact born from a night of cheap wine and shared loneliness. Free use. Total access. My cock stiffened instantly, a tent in my sweatpants that I didn’t bother to hide.

I slipped into our cramped room, the air thick with her perfume—vanilla and something muskier. Her clothes were strewn across the floor, a trail leading to the wicker hamper. I saw her favorite cropped sweater, the one that barely grazed her jiggly tits. My hands itched.

Ten minutes later, I heard the key turn. The door clicked open, and there she was, a backpack over one shoulder, a sly grin on her face. “You got my note?” she asked, kicking the door shut. Her eyes roamed down to my obvious bulge, and she bit her lip.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice thick. “I did.”

She tossed her bag aside. “Good. I need to be used today. Showered, shaved, and dripping wet for that fat cock of yours.” She was already pulling her tank top over her head, her full tits jiggling free, her nipples hard as diamonds. “C’mon, don’t make me beg for it.”

I closed the distance, crushing my mouth against hers. This wasn't a sweet hello; it was a claim. I groped her tits, kneading the firm flesh, pinching her rock-hard nipples until she moaned against my lips. I pulled back