Know When to Hold Them
written by:
Wayward Eve

Hi. You can call me Evelyn.

There are some things you should know about me before we get started. First, I'm 5' 5". I have blonde hair. I wear it short. 34C. I usually hover around 115 pounds. Second, aside from a few minor details (like names), this is autobiographical. Lastly, I'm not what you would call a ‘good girl' or a ‘nice person'. I'm sharing this with you because it gets me off. If you don't like me, I don't care. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. You might want to keep some tissues handy.

My momma loved Kenny Rodgers. She played his songs over and over. Mostly, I hated them, but Kenny has this one song about gambling I did like. Part of the chorus goes:

You've got to know when to hold them / Know when to fold them / Know when to walk away / And know when to run.

These were all things that Devon did not know.

Overall, she's a plain girl. She has brown eyes and narrow lips. When we lived together, she kept her mousey hair in a perpetual ponytail. From the neck up, she was flawlessly forgettable. From neck down, it was a different story. Devon wasn't a slender girl, but she wore her weight in all the right places. She had luscious, voluptuous curves to the tune of 36 DD. Devon knew how to capitalize on them, wearing tops that drew eyes downward. She was an English major, a poet. The pictures she could effortlessly paint with words were hauntingly heartbreaking and vivid. She was also melodramatic and a little dense.

For three years Devon had shared a dorm room with Madison, Lacey, and Virginia. Perfect little princess Madison was the traffic hazard kind of head turner with her blonde curls, long legs, and angel's face. Instead of blood, Lacey's veins carried a distilled concentrate of crazy, sexy, and cool. You might think that I look like trouble, but let me tell you; trouble looks like Lacey. The last girl, Virginia, was gone when I arrived. Her graduation opened up the dorm room that I moved into. I've never met her but, from the pictures I've seen, she looked a lot like Madison. Living in the shadow of girls like those, it's no wonder Devon was insecure. To compensate, she gave herself away. Madison derisively referred to her as ‘the queen of unintentional one night stands' behind her back.

Most kids say they want to do stuff like saving the whales or the polar bears when they grow up. My childhood ambition was to eat the weak. You may be inclined to pity Devon. She was pathetic. I don't do pity. I do contempt. Devon was Madison's fawning sycophant. It was like Madison was everything Devon wanted to be and never could. She hung on Madison's every word and laughed at all of her incredibly vapid jokes. For her part, Madison enjoyed having an inferior lapdog to kick around.

I have a passing interest in sociology and psychology. I dabbled in both with my electives. My psych 1000 class was on the far side of campus. Even worse, it was a morning class. After dragging myself out of bed and hiking all the way out there, finding out that class had been cancelled did not make me a happy camper. So, back to the dorm I went. That's when I met Levi. Devon was in some writing workshop with him. They'd been arbitrarily paired for a collaborative assignment. She'd only brought him to our room because she thought we'd all be gone. I couldn't blame her. Levi was cute in that artsy, intellectual way. To be blunt, he was a hipster. Normally, I don't like hipsters, but I can forgive a lot for dimples, blue eyes, and washboard abs. He was wearing tattered jeans, a skintight t-shirt, and a blazer. Rectangular, black rimmed glasses completed his look.

Levi and Devon were sitting on the floor amid a bedlam of open books and scattered papers. The look she flashed me when I walked in the door was anything but welcoming. She smiled and greeted me, of course, but she was really saying, "Fuck off. He's mine." That was her first mistake. I wasn't in the mood for flirting. I would have just gone back to bed, but no. The stupid girl just had to draw a line in the sand. Lines make me want to cross them. Naturally, I walked in and plopped down on the coach. Devon's eyes shot daggers at me, but I deflected them with feigned ignorance as I introduced myself and inquired about the nature of their project. I was wearing a tank top and a tiered, ruffled skirt that showed a lot of leg, especially sitting. Levi noticed. Devon noticed him noticing. I might have left it at that, just a warning shot across her bow, but Devon didn't back down. She started talking over me and briefly touching Levi's arm or knee as she did. She'd upped the ante. That was her second mistake. I had all the cards and it was my turn to wager.

I slid off the couch and joined them on the floor, sitting cross-legged. Oh, I pushed down the skirt to cover myself once I was situated, but by then Levi knew my little secret. I never wear panties if I can help it. I very rarely let people see. Just knowing that I could let them is usually enough for me. Not this time. As the conversation continued, I leaned back, propping myself up with my hands. My legs were completely exposed and my posture threatened to unveil what little the skirt still obscured. Levi's eyes never wandered far. Teasing people turns me on. I started to get a little wet. That was when Levi took his blazer off. It was a game changer.

Levi's right arm was covered from shoulder to elbow in a weaving, Celtic patterned tattoo. His nipples were pierced, each with a little barbell. For me, it was like Clark Kent turning into Superman before my eyes. "Oh, wow," I said sitting up. "They're pierced. Can I see?" Levi beamed. Devon scowled. I like to think she died a little on the inside when he lifted his shirt and let me touch them. "I've heard it makes them more sensitive," I said causally, as I flicked one of the metallic balls with my finger nail.

"It's true," Levi answered. He was staring down into my tank top. I flicked his piercing again and his gaze came up to meet mine. I smiled and then very deliberately looked down at his lap. Rock hard. Devon muttered something that sounded decisively derogative, got up, and stormed into the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her. I pinched and twisted Levi's piercing. His face contorted with painful pleasure. He would have fucked me right there on the living room floor if I wanted. With my freehand, I took one of his and slid in below my skirt.

Levi was not shy. His fingers found me more than ready to receive them. "Devon likes you," I said as he fingered me. He nodded a disinterested acknowledgement. In all fairness, I was rubbing his cock through his jeans so a little distraction was understandable. He was thick, I guessed six or seven inches. Not a monster, but certainly enough to get the job done. "Are you into her?" He shook his head. "Well, if you want to fuck me, you're going to have to do her first," I said. Some part of me always expects these kinds of gambles to blow up in my face. They rarely do. If you ever find yourself suffering from a surplus faith in humanity, I can fix that right up.

Levi's brow gathered in intrigued confusion, but his fingers never stopped. Mine either. "What?" he asked.

"You heard me," I said, trying to keep my voice level. I was on the cusp and I needed to talk fast. Devon wasn't going to sulk forever. "She likes you. Pretend to like her back. Sleep with her." I was panting the words. "I'll only let you into my bed if you crawl out of hers first." In the bathroom, Devon turned the faucet on. I presumed she was washing her sad, little tears away. She shouldn't have challenged me. "Listen. I'm going to go into my room. You're going to apologize to her and say you were just trying to make a good impression with her roommates because you like her so much.... MMmmmm... fuck... That's nice... Do... Do you understand?" I was cumming. He was nodding, grinning. I pulled his hand from between my thighs and, looking him in the eyes, sucked his fingers clean. "One for one, Levi. You do her, I'll do you. If she ever finds out, the deal's off. We good?"

The bastard was so totally into it. "Very," he said. I gave his cock a last squeeze, gave him my cell number, and went to my room. Like a bad girl.

Our dorm set up is pretty simple. We have a rectangular common (living) room, a shared bathroom, and a kitchenette. Four bedrooms branched off in pairs from the main room. To the right, were Lacey and Madison's bedrooms. On the left were mine and Devon's. As a result, Devon and I shared a wall. For about an hour, I killed time with class readings. Then, the show started. I heard them go into Devon's room and close the door. About ten minutes later, I learned just how soundproof our bedrooms really weren't. First her moans, long and throaty, came through. Whatever Levi was doing to it, he was doing it right. She came loudly. Moments later, her bed started knocking on our shared wall. I had to smile at that, imagining how much she was probably getting off on flaunting her conquest. With every thrust, Levi was telling her that he'd picked her over me. After all, I'd thrown myself at him and he'd rejected me. You know the scene in the Little Mermaid when Ursula is conning Ariel into giving up her voice? That was me.

Flotsam, Jetsam, now I've got her boys! / The boss is on a roll! / This poor, unfortunate soul!

Levi was magnificent. His rhythm was feral and driving. I moved my dildo in time with their beat. (No, it wasn't some ginormous, black, power tool that you have to start like a lawn mower. It was a much more modest and realistically proportioned device.) I typically go straight for a clitoral orgasm when pleasuring myself but, at that moment, I wanted something inside me. Levi was a god, wild and unpredictable. Each time I thought they were finished, it would start again. Together, Devon and I came over and over. I had to use a pillow to muffle myself when I finally moved to my clit to avoid getting sore. I finished before them.

About an hour later, they came out of her room together. By then, I'd retreated into the living room to get away from the noise. I was expecting smug condescension from Devon. Instead, she was all smiles. You know that cliché about women glowing afterwards? She was. Together, they packed up his stuff and then she walked him to the door, where he said a polite goodbye to me and kissed her as if he hated to go. That went on for several minutes. The boy deserved a fucking Oscar (or maybe a fucking and an Oscar). As soon as she closed the door, Devon scampered over to join me on the couch.

"I'm sorry about storming off earlier," she said. "I've been really into Levi since last year. I finally had an excuse to get some alone time with him and..." She paused to weigh her words. "You're so pretty and you wear it like a badge. All the boys want you and Madison. It's like I'm invisible when you guys are around. I thought you were going steal him. I'm sorry for being such a melodramatic cow."

Priceless.

I reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. I didn't realize what was going on and I was flirting pretty hard. When you went to the bathroom, he asked me to stop. I was so embarrassed. I'm sorry, Devon. I didn't mean to be a cunt. No hard feelings?"

"None," she said, hugging me. Hook, line, and sinker.

I returned the embrace, even adding a kiss on her cheek. Cue the porn music and we fuck now right? Keep dreaming. Unlike Madison (whose curiosity increased in direct proportion to her intoxication), Devon was the kind of straight that thought "same sex relations" meant sisters, mothers, and aunts. "You shouldn't call yourself a cow," I said when we separated. "You're beautiful. Levi obviously thinks so. From what I could hear he used a lot of body language to say so, too."

She blushed and hid her face behind her hands for a moment. "I'm glad you moved in," she said, peeping out between her fingers. "You're really nice."

Judging me yet?

Go ahead. Try some sanctimony on for size. It's warm and cozy, isn't it?

My turn. The defense calls Kenny Rogers. His gambler song also says:

Every gambler knows that the secret to surviving / Is knowing what to throw away and what to keep / Because every hand's a winner / And every hand's a loser / And the best you can hope for is to die in your sleep

I've been singing that song since I was a baby. My momma taught me well. Devon was happy. She was feeling genuinely good about herself. She got to have amazing sex with a boy she'd been lusting over for months. For a little while, she got to feel like she was beautiful, that she was good enough. I gave her all of that. Me. If things went south later, well don't people say it's better to have loved and lost? Isn't ephemeral happiness better than none at all? I was Motherfucking Teresa.

And I could not wait to fuck Levi.

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