Penalty: A New Adult Sports Romance (Excerpt Only)

Chapter 1 - MADISON

Present Day

I keep getting tossed between regret and relief.

As I stand alone in front of my dorm room mirror, brushing my curly, brassy tresses, I'm relieved I don't have to go far to reach my English class.

I don't have to rush doing my hair or anything because I've calculated how long it will take me to get from here to there with time to spare.

But as I glance over at my roommate's side of the room, regret fills me once more.

I absolutely would've preferred a single, but priority went to those who have been here longer, and as a transfer, I ended up getting stuck with a double.

I was apparently 'lucky' to get on-campus housing at all, especially since I transferred in the spring semester.

Sure, I could have rented a place outside of school, but that whole process seemed nightmarish to me.

I hate hassle, and this double seemed like the quickest and easiest solution.

Plus, I figured being on campus would help me get acclimated to the new school faster; the orientation period alone won't cut it.

But every time my roommate, Judy, and I cross paths, I groan inwardly.

Not that she's terrible or a pain or anything—I just like my own space. I like things arranged the way I like, as quiet as I like, without occasional weird smells and surprise questionable objects showing up in my living space.

I like not having to pretend I didn't hear the sounds of sex coming from her side of the room as it happened—the lucky guy continually groaning "oh yeah" as the bed also told on them, giving me an idea of the rhythm of his thrusts as it squeaked.

I'd prefer not having to hear Judy moan—even though I could tell she tried to be quiet.

I had wondered if her lover got off on the idea of another girl just a few feet away, a victim of the live porn suddenly thrust upon her. Maybe it made him feel like he was with two women instead of one. Maybe he likes being watched and listened to—I heard that's a thing. Maybe they both get turned on by the idea of someone paying rapt attention to their fornication, unable to help their physical reaction to the sounds of it.

I did my best not to let my imagination run away with me and give the guy a face or body, tried hard not to think about his hard, long penis stuffed inside her vagina, driving into it with rhythmic thrusts.

I tried to stop wondering what that feels like—to have a man between your legs, part of him inside of you. The feel of his hard, long organ pushing in and out as his ass contracts with the effort of riding you.

Were they completely naked?

Did the guy just have his dick out, otherwise remaining clothed while she lifted up her skirt and pulled her panties aside?

A small part of me wanted to peek, I won't lie, but the thought made me feel guilty, and the room was dark anyway—I wouldn't have been able to see much.

I could hear them, though, and my imagination filled in enough blanks to make me slick between my own legs and sort of jealous I didn't get to feel it myself.

It sounds like it feels so good—not that I have a ton of experience listening to people have sex.

I've never actually watched porn, although I caught a glimpse of it once when a high school classmate emailed me a clip, and I unwittingly opened it since the title and body of the email were misleading—it said something about cute, funny puppies. Obviously, my classmate's sick idea of a joke.