The Dorm Went Dark – I Got Lucky!

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The Dorm Went Dark – I Got Lucky!

I drove my Chevy pickup out of the slow-moving traffic and parked just at the ridge of the University’s parking lot to survey the scene below. First, because I was getting a panic attack being in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Secondly, because the military has ingrained in me the need for surveillance before getting boxed into a situation in which you didn’t have an exit strategy.

I waited on the ridge for two hours until traffic lightened and the sun was on the way down. Then I drove up to a long row of carts. Kids were like squirrels grabbing stuff from cars and U-hauls, parents were crying, yells of keggers on my floor at nine, and other shit like that.

Someone, with a name tag, grabbed my bag from the back of my truck. My first instinct was to deck him, but I fought it down. He smiled and welcomed me back as if he knew me. But he sure as hell didn’t.

He asked for my floor number and said he’d get it up there while I parked. I took in the mechanics of what was going on and said, “Thanks,” as I let go of everything I owned to a total stranger. Progress, my doctor would say.

I parked and make my way back to the entrance and took the stairs to the 16th floor. By the time I got there, Gennie, the RA had just about finished an ice-breaker conversation by asking everyone to tell a little bit about their backgrounds. I pushed through the stairway door just as the last person finished speaking. Gennie spotted me and kept them all seated and related what they had just ended. She asked me speak. It sounded like one of my group therapy sessions. My shrink said that I needed to climb out of my shell and start speaking to people or I would end up locked in a room with a bottle of booze or worse. So, I spoke.

“I’m Jim Rawling. It’s been ten years since I left college. I got drafted two days before I graduated. Then four years, three months and three days later I ETS’d out of the 82nd Airborne, that’s in North Carolina. Not that I was counting …”

A that point some shithead yelled, fuck the Army! And it got him a lot of laughter. He got kind of quiet though as did the others, guess it was my stare or maybe they saw my mangled hands about that time.

In the quiet that followed. I kept my cool and continued, “I served with a lot of guys who said that,” I told him, “but they fought and died side by side all the same with others that didn’t. Everybody over there had each other’s back. I took some pain myself.”

At that point I held up hands; that killed the rest of the noise. “You might as well know about these now instead of staring when you think I’m not watching you.”

“We were taking heavy fire and I followed orders from a green 2LT screaming at the top of his lungs to take the ridge. In the mayhem of the rush up the ridge, a bullet smashed into my helmet and spun me around. It felt like I got hit with a sledge. That fucking helmet saved my life and gave me bad luck at the same time. Everything went black for — it seemed hours — I came to dazed, started to stand and caught a bullet in the shoulder.

I spent four months and three days or was it three days and four months, being move from camps by night then chained and beaten senseless for entertainment nearly every day — they didn’t want information, just loved showing how sadistic they were to one another. I lost two fingers, got my jaw broken, and had my gun hand smashed with rifle butts. My handwriting was bad before that, but now I can’t write shit legibly. I learned to type during rehab. What? Fuck, sorry sometimes my mind still gets twisted and I have trouble tracking. Anyway, their luck ran out and mine returned when they stumbled into a Recon Ranger platoon. God, I loved those guys. The worst of the Cong beaters was captured — well he was for a few minutes. Shot while trying to escape is what the NCOIC wrote later, I found out.”

I was rattling — not making much sense. I guess I said too much as I saw jaws drop and eyes turn into saucers.

“Sorry,” is all I could muster up when I realized the room was deadly quiet. I looked around the faces staring at me. They were graduate level students like me; most looked to be in their mid-twenties, assigned to rooms on the sixteenth floor. The room couldn’t empty out fast enough. That just left Gennie and me, looking at one another.

“Your … Your room is the last one on the left, by the north fire exit, Mr. Rawlings,” she stammered, “if you need anything canlı bahis şirketleri …”

I hoisted my duffle bag out of the cart by the elevator, inside it was what little I had in this world, and picked up my typewriter. before she could finish, I walked away. Guess I should have stayed in the hospital for a while longer.

In two minutes, my new world knew enough about me — I hadn’t meant to invoke fear, but it happened. Well at least they knew not to try and give me any college prank shit. I trudged to my room and surveyed the stairwell. It looked like the other one I climbed adjacent to the elevators, but I went down and back up again to make sure before going to my room, again.

Shortly afterward, I heard a soft knock. Opening the door, I faced the ‘Fuck The Army’ guy; he was quiet. I had learned to read confrontational situations in my last two years in the Army; much better than during my first two years. I could sense this wasn’t one of those situations. There was more than some unease in his demeanor.

He spoke contritely, “My Dad was in the Army’s 23rd Infantry Division. He died over there. I’m sorry about what I said, out there, to you. I didn’t realize what you went through.”

There wasn’t much to say as we stood eyeing one another. I nodded, recognizing his grief at the loss of his father. Grief can make you say stupid things. I had a lot of experience with that. We shook hands. And I allowed that we would talk some time about it if he wanted.

I emersed myself into MBA courses but still found time to speak to a few of the others on a more frequent basis. Somewhere along the way, the stares and sideways glances stopped; at least by the 16th floor graduate students.

Gennie had offered me her notes from a couple of classes we had together. She noticed I was having trouble trying to keep up with the professor’s rapid-fire lectures. At first, I was irked, but when I realized that she wasn’t doing it out of pity, I accepted her offer. Not long after that, she and Alicia, one of the other girls in the class, made a few library trips with me for research papers. They were looking for a security blanket while walking from the library on those long dark night trips back to the dorm.

Alicia started calling me dad after a couple of journeys through the unlit areas. Out of ear shout from others – I let it slide. I wasn’t old enough to be her dad, but given her good looks and toned body, I did have some thoughts about being her Daddy.

One day, as I headed for the stairs, Alicia was at the elevators waiting with a group of other girls. Without giving it any thought, she started out with, “Hey, Dad …”

I cut her short before she could get out more than dad. I don’t know why, but I told her, “For the hundredth time, no, you can’t borrow the truck, tonight!” I pushed through the door and bounded down the stairs. I could hear laughter from behind me.

She laughed, the others looked at her with smirky grins and burst into giggles. I guess she filled them in on the name game and from then on, I became the 16th floor Dad among the girls.


I hate storms. A fierce one with tornadic winds was whipping across our area. The clatter of a loose steel covering outside my window was driving me nuts. I took a break and decided to hit the latrine and shower. It was in the middle of hallway and isolated from the sounds outside. I stood beneath the hot water as the steam rose around me. It was peaceful, until it wasn’t.

The lights went out. I stood under the shower waiting for them to come back on. Probably just a temporary outage, I thought. But they didn’t come back on. Finally, I felt for my robe and, falling back on my Army night crawl training, I made my way to the door. Easy, just had to make it thirty-four yards to the left and I would wrap my head with a pillow and crush out the sounds of that damn metal pounding against the side of the building, I thought.

Not so easy, that turned out to be. I made my way down the hall feeling for doorways, when some dumb-fuck came running out of his room and crashed into me. We tumbled to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. Who the fuck goes running through a pitch-black hallway?

“Sorry, man!” I was heading down to the elevator to find out what’s going on. The phones are out, too. Shit, I’m bleeding!” then he jumped up and repeated the same stupid run. I heard him tumbling over the lounge chairs. I just grinned. Stupid fuck probably canlı kaçak iddaa didn’t know the elevators wouldn’t be working either.

I’d lost count of the rooms, but knew I just had to get to the end and find the exit door and go back one. I continued feeling down the walls when my hand slipped into an open doorway. I brushed across a face that gave a start and a sharp intake of air.

“Thank God, Jimmy! I was getting so scared. Here, I got a present for you!” she said, as she pulled me against her in total darkness. “You like?” she giggled.

‘Jimmy sure is a lucky guy.’ I thought as I found my hands wrapped around her naked butt. As much as I liked the feel of her butt and the softness of her titties pressed against me, I knew I couldn’t just stay silent in this situation.

“Sorry, you have the wrong Jimmy.” Was all I could get out as I found my cock stirring, thinking about being embraced by a totally naked girl in complete darkness.

I felt her body stiffen and the slightest sounds of deep inhaling, but she didn’t push away. Instead, she clung to me as another peel of thunder crackled outside the dorm window. I thought about backing away, but I had already told her that I wasn’t her Jimmy. She didn’t let go, so, I left my hands gently holding her ass, hoping she didn’t mind.

“Jimmy was supposed to come to me after he got out of the library. He was going to use my outline for his term paper and start tonight. It’s due tomorrow. Do you think he can make it back?” she asked as she felt my growing cock straining to slip between the folds of my robe.

“My guess is that the library is on lockdown with the tornado alerts. Jimmy is probably sheltered until the all clear is given.” I whispered.

Her fingers reached between us into the folds of my robe, searching.

“Mr. Rawlings? I think I have the right Jimmy. I am afraid of storms. Will you stay with me?” she asked, as her hands reached between us to loosen my robe.

“My room has a flapping steel sheathing loose and it’s driving me crazy. I can’t go back to my room. And I don’t like storms either.”

“This is as hard as steel but it isn’t flapping, Mr. Rawlings,” her soft voice responded.

“No, Ms Gennie, it’s not.”

“Then stay with me, until the storms are over.” She held me as she whispered, “Please?”

“What about your boyfriend, Gennie?” I asked, although the concern I might have felt had already faded away.

“He is not my boyfriend, at least not yet, Mr. Rawlings. He says I can’t be his girlfriend until I get over being frigid. If I can’t, he says he has other girls who can make him happier.”

“What makes you think you are frigid?” I asked as my nubby fingers slid along the furls of her moist lips, seeking to open the outer layers, peeling back the onion, and gliding along the swelling inner lips.

“I stiffen up when Jimmy jams it inside me. He says if it hurts me then I’m doing something wrong or I’m frigid. I’m not sure, but he says so. He gets in quick and I’m still not wet enough. Jimmy likes it fast, and rough. So, I guess it is my fault that I can’t keep up with him. He cums before I get warmed up, his pants are zipped up and he is out the door without asking how good it was for me. I’m afraid that I’m going to lose Jimmy, Mr. Rawlings, if I don’t’ get better at pleasing him. He’s the only guy that — has fucked me and he says he has lots of experience, so he must be right about my being frigid, you know?”

‘Fucking asshole!’ That thought runs through my mind like a hot knife. How could a twenty-two-old graduate student get mind-fucked by some dipshit like this was another thought that seeped into my mind as I felt her hips begin to rock against my hand. I released my grip on her body, feeling the heat that had built up between us dissipate as I turned and felt my way back to lock the door. Then back into her arms.

“Gennie, guide me to your bed. We can lay down and wait out the storm, together.”

“Thank you, Jimmy. Do you mind if I snuggle with this inside of me? Your fingers have touched me more down there, than the three weeks I’ve been with … what’s his name,” she giggled.

“Before we do that, Gennie, let me show you how you should be treated — not just some quick fuck. No wham, bam, thank you mam.” With that said, I found my way down her body in the darkness as the winds tried to tear the window from its frame.

My lips melted into her cunt and the initial buck of hips against canlı kaçak bahis my hand returned as the slick walls of her vagina pushed upward seeking more. I slowly worked her into a body shaking quake. Her gasps turned to deep groans as she came against my face then collapsed spreadeagled on her bed.

“You’re not frigid, Gennie,” I smiled in the darkness, “must be something wrong with … what’s his name,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“Shit, yeah!” she laughed. “That didn’t hurt a bit, either. How about trying that piece of steel between your legs, next? I’d like to try that out now, if you’re okay with that Mr. Rawlings.”

The roar of thunder from another lightning strike nearby, covered my answer to her, but she understood as I kissed my way upward to her nipples, pausing long enough to tease each one until she couldn’t wait any longer. Drawing her arms beneath mine, she pulled me up until my cock slid into her opening, gently pushing its way inside until we were bone to bone. She didn’t waste any time. The undulations of her hips engulfed my dick. The perspiration from our bodies added to the sensations of the storm roaring outside. As if struck by a whip cracking across her back, she tensed and came, hard.

“Pain?” I huffed trying to regain my breath.

“Fucking asshole!” she exclaimed, with enlightenment screaming from her voice.

I couldn’t help but laugh this time, knowing Jimmy What’s His Name wouldn’t be getting another chance to dip his wick into Ms Gennie.

We played for a while, before the adrenaline faded and we collapsed with arms around each other and dozed off for a few minutes. Even the storm outside had no power over us in this satiated state of bliss.

At 2:30 a.m. the lights came back on. The storms had abated a few minutes before. Ms Gennie and I slipped together like a banana and its peel and slowly made love until we came again. No pain for either of us.

Hitting the latrine again and a fast shower, I stood looking into the bathroom mirror at the guy looking back at me with a wild shit-eating grin, wondering what the hell just happened and how did I get so lucky the night the lights went out in the dorm.

From across the hallway outside the latrine, I heard loud voices, then the slamming of a door. What followed was a guy’s voice screaming, “Fucking frigid bitch, you’re never going to get over me no matter what you say!” The voice continued to rant as it faded heading to the elevators.

I knocked on Gennie’s door, gently. She opened it, standing there naked in the doorway. I asked, “You okay?”

“No pain,” her wry grin answered. I knew, then, that she had answered Jimmy’s knock at her door as naked as she is now. The thought of Jimmy not getting any pussy today just made me smile. She would be better in the morning, after a few hours of sleep.

“Want me to visit Jimmy What’s His Name?” I offered.

Her lips pursed then turned into a bright smile before answering, “Daddy, I’m tempted to take you up on that offer, but no. I’m sure after I have a few conversations with some of his girlfriends, Jimmy won’t be getting into their panties again, either. That will be revenge enough for me.”

I didn’t press Gennie for sex during the remainder of the year; not that I didn’t get any from others. She had enough trauma from the other Jimmy to have me try and impose myself upon her. We remained good friends, though. And if another storm rolled in, Gennie used it as an excuse to find her way to my room.

The week before graduation, Gennie came to my room twice — for confirmation, she said. The day before graduation, she came again — this time with Alicia. They confided in me that Alicia needed a good first-time experience, too. Gennie left Alicia in my care, returning an hour later and joined us for one last fling. It was my first time with two girls and it turned out to be theirs as well. My life had turned around completely by the end of that year.

My nightmares abated, never completely gone, but I could sleep soundly most nights. I was even able to ride the elevator, but just the one with glass windows in the sides as long as one of the girls held my nubby fingers after the doors closed.

I finally closed a dark door and allowed myself to rejoin the world I left, renewed with aspirations of hope. I typed a few letters to the Army major who worked with me in recovery and gave him an update on my progress. In return, he sent me a contact in my new city life and I continue to visit the psychiatrist — he says I’m making great progress — less pain, he says.


Thanks for reading my journey. Please, take a moment to rate and drop me a note about how this story resonates with you.

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