The fairy lights gently shake, rapping against the dorm room wall. The lights faintly illuminate the room, casting dark, shifting shadows across the room. The light reflects off two damp bodies gyrating in unison, soft breaths escaping from underneath the veil of the aging wooden frame squeaking. "Take it off, take it off," he says a moment before her bra joins the rest of their clothes on the floor. The string holding up Mabel's roommate's sentimental polaroid print out loosens, swinging free of one of its thumbtacks, the momentum must compromise the structural capacity of the other thumbtack as the whole assembly falls to the floor through the gap between the bed and the wall. Dipper and Pacifica are none the wiser, Dipper paying rapt attention to Pacifica's sea blue eyes, Pacifica doing the same, her attention drawn to Dipper's desperate, warm, brown eyes. Pacifica's phone rings again, vibrating at the other end of the bed, being paid no mind by either one of the two despite it being right under Dipper's foot. "That fucking phone," Pacifica whispers, running her hands up Dipper's shoulders to his neck, feeling the tightness in the muscles of his neck. She drives her fingers into his traps, trying to massage his neck. Why? Don't ask her, she has no idea. Usually, she operates at a mix of 90% thought, and 10% instinct, but right now it was probably closer to 20% thought and 80% instinct. It would've been 100% instinct had Mabel actually charged her speaker so that Dipper and Pacifica could've played their 'fun' playlist, consisting completely of music that was white-noise quality at best, which frankly is exactly what they wanted out of it.
Pacifica feels the heat coming off of Dipper's body from underneath her, which is surprising considering that he's just sitting there while she rides him. Well... she's always hot whenever he's the one doing the work, so maybe it makes sense... nah, he's definitely being a diva for having drops of sweat escape from underneath his curls. She hopes that Mabel's roommate, wherever she is, doesn't mind that the two are ruffling her sheets, likely leaving behind a stain or two to commemorate the night. Skin slaps against skin, lover against lover. Pacifica works her hips, moving forward and back so much so that each stroke begins blending together, her senses feeling depressed and heightened all at once. "Mmm," she moans, taking her hands off Dipper and putting them on her own breasts, twisting her nipples between her thumb and index fingers. The pleasure ripples through her body, the sensual and the sexual uniting into one, pulling her into a field of ecstasy so vast and plentiful her eyes (nor her senses) can conceptualize an end. She closes her eyes and a veil of pleasure descends on her brain, starting from the sides and uniting into one at her cerebral cord, shooting down her spine and spreading through her body. She feels Dipper place his hands on her thighs, over her glute creases. The sensation of his calloused hands on her body shoots into her groin and pulls her into an unexpected climax, her cunt throbbing around Dipper. She lets out a protracted moan as Dipper moves underneath her, thrusting into her so deeply in short, forceful thrusts. "That's it baby, let it all out, make us both feel good," he encourages in a rough and coarse voice, he swallows, probably feeling the dryness of his throat, "fuck," he lets out in a low, sexy growl that's music to Pacifica's ears. She lets out a high pitched chirp in response, continuing to bear down on him. Suddenly, a primal impulse sweeps through her that demands physical touch, and now. She takes her hands off herself and rests them on his abs as he's sitting against a pillow propped on the backboard, head angled up towards her.
She's barely able to pick up, "My pretty girl," whispered low under his breath. Pacifica leans into him, wrapping her arms around him as their abdomens rest atop one another. Her movement stops for a second as the two kiss sloppily. Her movements have been reduced to mere suggestions rather than precise controls. Her glossed lips glide over his not-glossed lips, tongues rubbing, breaths blending, spit spreading. He turns her head with his, pressing kisses along her jaw, each one sending chills through her body, corresponding with a throb of her privates. Her attention pulled south, she starts grinding against Dipper once more. He brings his right arm up, pressing his forearm against her spine while his hand rests on the bun at the back of her slick back. He slings his left arm across her ass, resting it on her opposite cheek. He squeezes and throbs inside her, no doubt owed to her mesmerizing body, a product of her unrelenting discipline and a wee bit of Ozempic. Hey, she's a busy student, she gets to have some help, okay? Don't be so judgmental, gosh... He pushes her head into the free space between his shoulder and neck, her neck twists so that she may nuzzle the side of Dipper's face. She lightly bites his jaw, feeling her teeth hitch against his stubble. God... she could do this forever, her and Dipper, Dipper and her, here in Mabel's room, getting it on like college degenerates. Well, getting it on because they are college degenerates. Is she drunk? No, she tells herself, I just had like 3 drinks, that's like nothing. She is kind of missing one detail, 3 drinks... on an empty stomach, while tired. And fueled by half of a red bull she found in Mabel's car. Dipper scoots down on the bed, getting his legs free so that he can prop them up and fuck Pacifica himself. He's like a piston underneath her, firing up and down over and over again, no doubt turning her insides to mush. She moves her hands up his body, resting them in the divot between his collarbone and his traps. She's astounded at how hot he is, both literally and figuratively. His mouth is open and the sound of his pants were dropping her into an intoxicating rhythm. She closes her eyes again and lets the pleasure envelope her, feeling it course through her veins and seep into muscles, forcing their contraction. She tucks her arms in and moves her arms to grab his ribs as she climaxes again. Her breathing stops and its as if she's taking a hit of pleasure, letting it soak in her lungs until she's forced to exhale, letting out a moan as she does. "Ungh, Dipper, yes," she stammers, holding on to dear life as her cunt takes a hold of her once more. With the arm pressed against her spine, Dipper runs his fingertips down her back, her smooth skin absorbing each and every sensation, his fingers curl as he reaches her lower back, he then reaches his arm up to restart the whole motion, guiding her through her orgasm.
"You want to clean me up?" he asks, looking up at her with a faint smile. "Mmm, sure," she replies, climbing off him slowly, getting used to moving again after two life-changing orgasms. She crawls down the bed, settling down on her stomach and elbows in between in his legs. She pushes his legs out wider, letting in her scoot in closer. She surveys the scene, specifically Dipper's soaked, raw cock standing erect in front of her. She puts a hand on his shaft and another on his balls, her hands gliding over the various parts of his cock with ease considering the layer of juices on it. She puts him in her mouth and feels as his tip hits the back of her throat. "How do you taste, babe?" he asks, sitting back, his hands resting on the tops of his thighs. She takes him out of her mouth, "You know, I always think you're lying when you say I taste fruity, but I swear I taste," she pauses to test her palate, bringing her tongue to the top of her mouth, "almost like strawberry shortcake." Dipper starts a wholesome laugh, "Strawberry shortcake?" he asks, incredulously.
"What, you don't believe me," Pacifica says, a small smile pulling on her lips. She makes sure to keep her hands moving, wouldn't want her Prince anything short of stimulated.
"Might have to take a taste, you know, to confirm."
"Maybe," she answers coyly, "but I'm not quite done with you yet," she says, sticking out her tongue and tapping his frenulum against it, feeling him throb in her hand as she does so. She puts him back in her mouth, keeping her eyes on his as she goes down on him, watching him flick his head back against the backboard as she does so. He locks his jaw as her tongues slathers him in spit, drowning him the same sea of endorphins she was just swimming in moments ago. "Oh god, Pacifica," he groans, looking back down at Pacifica. His hands now are firmly clutching handfuls of the green silk sheets beneath them. Pacifica, unrelenting, continues to drown him in pleasure, working her magic one lick, suck, and stroke at a time. She figures the alcohol must be getting to her, considering just how focused she is on the sensations inside her mouth. Oh, and watching Dipper squirm underneath her. Usually he wouldn't be this sensitive, but the last time they saw each other was a few months ago and she's looking awfully pretty today. Well, she looks awfully pretty everyday, but especially today. His breathing slows, turning from pants to deep, controlled inhales. His belly rising and falling with each breath. "You are so good at this," he says, pulling her off of him and into a sloppy kiss, a string of her spit spreads from his dick across his torso and onto his face, carried by Pacifica's mouth.
"Mmm," she moans into his mouth, the tactile experience of their lips rubbing against one another's unleashing a wave of relaxation over her entire body. She pushes him back onto the pillow and the two make out, Dipper's nails running up and down the length of Pacifica's back, sending tingles into her brain. Her fingers rummaging through his hair, scratching against his scalp, Dipper emitting a low rumble her fingers make their way to the back of his head, his sensitive spot. His hands roam further south, greedily grabbing handfuls of her ass. He lightly slaps her right cheek, right on the area she sits on, the pain she senses registering as bliss, resulting in another moan right into Dipper's mouth.
He grabs ahold of her thighs and pulls them up; she wraps her hands around his neck as he sits upright in bed. "Put it in," he instructs her, she listens, taking a hand from around his neck and feeling around for him, eventually tucking him inside of her. He effortlessly slides in, Pacifica so aroused from his kisses around her neck. She bites her lip as he pushes inside, hearing him exhale as the two rise from the bed, Dipper carrying Pacifica. He walks over to the curtains and flings them open, temporarily carrying Pacifica with just a single arm, Pacifica eagerly watching as his muscles and neck bulge with the additional strain. Well, not that much strain, she's watched him squat like triple her weight before. Okay, okay, anyways... He uses his second hand and begins raising her up and down his dick, slowly, their lips not even separating for as much as a second. He turns himself towards the window and presses her against it, pounding her as she's propped up. He bites her shoulder and continues to speed up, their moans drowning out the sound of her body hitting the glass... and the sound of multiple people shuffling outside of the dorm door. Just as Pacifica climaxes for a third time, she watches, in horror, as the handle turns, the door opens a smidge before she hears Mabel say, "Wait, let's go to the bathroom first." The door shuts slowly
Pacifica's life literally flashes before her eyes, watching impatiently as the door falls into the latch. But for the life of Pacifica, that climax will forever be cataloged as one of her most memorable, her heartrate temporarily hitting 204, ecstasy mixing with sheer horror being the culprit. Dipper, none the wiser, comes to a stop, breaking their kiss to pant in her ear. "Oh god," he whimpers, "it's so good," he says, breathing heavily into Pacifica's ear, as he tucks his head into her shoulder. He's so cute when he's cumming, Pacifica thinks to herself, watching as he closes his eyes and nuzzles his face between her neck and her shoulder. A second later she feels him follow her lead, throbs followed by a warmness welling inside of her. He kisses the side of her neck as he comes down from the climax. He backs out and pulls out of her, letting their juices flow a bit down her leg. He finds a roll of paper towels and wipes her leg clean with a single swipe. A gentleman, she giggles to herself. After the close call, she rushes to get the two of them dressed, Dipper being a slight bit dazed as he gets himself presentable. A quick clean-up follows, Pacifica and Dipper making sure to use the bathrooms on the far side of the floor.
By the time the girls get back, Dipper and Pacifica are snugly tucked into bed, Dipper passed out and Pacifica well on her way. The privacy curtain is drawn so Pacifica can't really see them come in but can definitely hear them as they shuffle around. She re-closes her eyes and lets sleep pull her into a warm embrace, waking up many hours later to Mabel's bird chirp alarm.