I sat there petrified as I pretended to sleep, the guy I was starting to really like and his… whatever she was to him, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs still shaking from the pounding she got. I was so mad. I wanted to stand up and scream right there but I couldn’t budge, they couldn’t know I watched. My fingers were still over my panties and it was so sensitive and everything I could do to not rub myself.

She stood up and pulled on panties from the floor, then her romper as he came back in, still mostly hard. She kissed him, and slowly went to the door, doing her best to not make noise as she worked the handle. Sam slid on some boxers and then was out like a light in minutes. I breathed a sigh of relief. My fingers pressed onto my panties and started making a circle while I was lost in thought. I was so mad at.. someone. I needed him.

The light streamed in through a masquerade of blinds, the cheap university ones doing their best, but underqualified, attempt. They hit my face and I messily awoke, immediately aware of a pool of drool underneath my mouth. Sam was gone for the morning, he liked how empty the weight room was before nine. I swung my bare legs over the edge of my bed and rubbed my eyes, slouched and processing the night before. It was the first time I had a third person view to.. well.. anything quite like that. He was so lean and powerful, so visceral- she was at his mercy but she wanted every drop of passion he was giving. I wondered if I looked that good when I got fucked. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten fucked like that, I thought.

I dropped a few inches off my bed to the ground, and paused. There were panties lying a few feet to the left. Not my panties. I thought back to the night before, when she pulled hers on- they were similar, a dark red basically string thong that did nothing for comfort but everything if you’re trying to impress someone, but the lace running around the entire outside- these were definitely hers.

My mind raced as I walked to class. Would she notice? Who is she anyway? Will she think he’s cheating? Does she care? Do I care? Of course I care. I barely payed attention through 2 classes and every time I thought of that dumb girl bouncing on him I got red. I hated it. My legs would go barely wider every time too. I hated that more. The 3 floor walkup back to the dorm was getting annoying, but I reached my floor and opened our door. He was standing there, grinning.

“You got me in trouble today” he said, half laughing. He explained how the girl- who I guess is Sarah and not some made up cartoon villain like she is in my head- came to be also very confused on how she left with different underwear. So he had to explain how his roommate was secretly a girl and it was probably mine. I nodded, and told him I thought the same thing this morning.

I panicked. I should have told him I didn’t notice. I prayed to change my answer. I wish I said anything else.

“Well, if it’s cool, here’s yours back, where’s hers?” I looked up at him. I stammered a little and grabbed my panties from his hand, seeing very clearly what was left of a huge load that leaked out of her earlier that day. I tossed them to my bed, and reached up my skirt, lowering her panties off my hips, down my thighs, and feeling them land around my ankles. A noticeable wet spot was right where it should be, if one was thinking dirty thoughts for two classes. I bent down, stepped out of them and put them in his hand. His eyes stared at me but I couldn’t meet his. It was so embarrassing what I did. He knew. I had worn her panties after knowing they were hers. He knew I knew she was over. I caught a smile cross his face and he took them in his hand, his giant hand, that made them disappear. “You better be careful, she’s your TA.”