The guy had the most beautiful cock she had ever seen.

Not that she'd really seen that many. Carrie had seen her father's and her brother's, of course, but neither in a sexual way. There had been four boys, though—two in high school and two during her freshman year in college. All of them had rather average penises—although the last one, Mike, had been very proficient in using his.

But this guy…

He was exquisite. The sight of him made her ass clench and her belly thrum with excitement.

And that just wasn't okay.

Because she'd sworn off men during her freshman year, had even thought about switching teams—she loved women, and was attracted to them almost as equally as men. At least, that's what she'd told herself after Mike, and for three years, she'd believed it—until she saw the guy with the gorgeous cock stroking it in the dorm bathroom.

And it was all her own damned fault.

They had co-ed dorms, each gender separated by floors. She was on the third, in a room on the end, and the bathroom was all the way at the other end of the long tiled hallway. At three in the morning, snuggled under the covers with an aching bladder full of beer and an already-throbbing head, Carrie would fight her body, listening to her roommate, Maureen, snoring softly in the darkness, until she couldn't stand it for another minute.

By that time, the distance down the hall to the left seemed like miles. It was much faster to sprint down the short flight of stairs to her right where, just inside the door at the bottom, the first floor bathroom sat empty and oh-so-accessible. If it just happened to be the men's bathroom, well, she could always feign intoxication, apologize profusely and skedaddle—she had, on one occasion, interrupted a guy at a urinal, whose surprise had nearly caused a horrible zipper accident.

But most of the time, she simply slipped in, quickly relieved herself, and was back in her own bed before anyone spotted her. Besides, it was summer now, and only a fraction of the school's student body was even on campus. The odds of her getting caught went down considerably during summer term.

She probably would have slipped in and out unnoticed that night, too, except she heard his low, soft moan. She sat, her bladder throbbing blissfully in relief, and listened, her breath still in her throat. At first, she assumed it was some drunk guy moaning to the porcelain god, about to toss his cookies. Then he moaned again, and she distinctly heard him whisper hoarsely, "Yeah, baby, fuck me!"

The words made her flush with heat, and when she wiped herself, her pussy was moist with more than just urine. She sat frozen, barely breathing, her whole body attuned to the sound. She couldn't quite tell where it was coming from. It wasn't any of the six bathroom stalls—like most men's rooms, none of them had doors, and she was in the very last. So where was he?