Goonette Roommate Part 1
The Escalation
Her roommate was normal until one day...
I never imagined college life would end up like this.
At first, Michelle was just a normal roommate. A little eccentric, sure. She liked incense and was weirdly private about her headphones, but she was nice. Funny. A bit too into her laptop, maybe. We shared a dorm, then an apartment sophomore year. And that’s when the strangeness started.
It was small at first. Subtle. She began lounging around in her towel more often. I thought she was just ultra-comfortable in her skin. I didn’t want to make a thing of it.
Then one afternoon, I walked into the room and she was on the couch, legs apart, hand under a blanket. Her eyes flicked toward me, and she casually said, “Hey.” I thought maybe I’d imagined it. People do weird things, right? But the blanket was moving and her hand was definitely on her crotch. I didn’t know how to react, so I just said hi back and grabbed my books. I have not seen her with a man since we've known each other. We all have needs after all; slip-ups happen.
When I got back home, I heard something different but familiar in our apartment. They were wet sounds, rhythmic. Her bedroom door was open. I passed by her room on the way to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of her. She was under the covers again, phone glowing in her hand, earbuds in. I tried not to look or pretend I noticed. Maybe she just needed relief? Clearly, she was masturbating. At that moment I realized that she probably has been watching porn the whole time we've known each other. It just clicked right at that moment. Her not having any boyfriends. She’s always quiet and on her laptop. I felt a little sorry for her. Do I even know her at all? I don't know. But she didn’t stop when she saw me.
It kept escalating.
One weekend morning, I came out to find her watching porn on the big TV. Moans softly filled the room. They were not loud enough to wake me up, but once I fully registered what was unfolding, it was certainly loud enough. She didn’t even flinch.
As if that wasn't the most shocking part, she was naked. This was the first time I had ever seen her naked. No warning. Just ‘boom’ porn and naked roommate.
She was naked, eating cereal, one hand idly between her legs, her other hand in practiced moments bringing her breakfast into her mouth. She was watching porn like Saturday morning cartoons. She paused only to say, “Sorry if it’s too loud,” as if it were a movie. She didn’t stop. Just… kept going.
I guess I’ll take this moment to describe my roommate. Simply put, she is beautiful and was always a stunner. I hate to admit it, but now that I have seen her naked, I’m pretty sure she's a goddess. I honestly can’t stop looking at her… even if she’s more eccentric than I thought.
Her name is Michelle. She’s a black woman in her early 20s. She keeps her hair natural and adorns her locks with colorful beads and feathers. Her eyes, almond-shaped and deep brown, sparkle with an infectious energy, framed by thick, arched eyebrows that add a touch of mystery to her face. Michelle's lips are full and often painted a bold, crimson red, a reflection of her eccentric personality. Her nose is slightly upturned, giving her a unique and exotic appearance. A pair of large, hoop earrings dangle from her earlobes, their golden glow complementing the piercing gaze of her eyes.
Her breasts are full and round, with dark areolae and prominent large nipples. Her stomach is flat and toned, probably attributed to her regular walks and minimalist diet. As she moves, her hips sway rhythmically, a testament to the sensuality that lies within her.
Michelle's lower body is equally captivating. Her legs are long and lean, with a soft curve at the knee that leads down to strong, toned thighs. Her buttocks are round and firm, inviting admiring glances from those who catch a glimpse.
Between her legs lies her most private yet alluring part – her womanhood. Her pubic hair is kept in a neat, triangle-shaped bush, a stark contrast to the wild, untamed hair on her head. Her labia majora and minora are plump and pink, framing her sensitive clitoris.
Honestly, even though I identify as straight, I can say my roommate is definitely a 10. I would be okay with this if it wasn't for the whole porn thing… but it seems that this was only the beginning.
After that, the porn never stopped. It played while she cooked. While she cleaned. While she folded laundry. She didn’t even wear headphones anymore. I basically stopped seeing her wearing clothes. I’m sure she dressed to go to classes, but because of our schedules, I never witnessed it. I really didn’t know how to process all of it. I just kept escalating.
I learned the word “gooning” not from her, but from googling what I was seeing. Apparently, there’s a whole culture? A lifestyle? People who just live in a porn haze, edging, hypnotized, drowning in it. That was her. That was Michelle now.
She wasn’t addicted. She was porn.
I let things go too far, but I’m just very non-confrontational. Conflict really peaks my anxiety and stresses me out. But I had to address this…this gooning thing…
One day I sat down next to her and asked her if she was okay. She looked at me like I was speaking another language.
“I’ve never been better,” she said, eyes not leaving the screen. She didn’t even stop watching porn to talk to me.
“You have no idea what it’s like to be this free.” She was sitting on the couch in an Indian-style position, diddling herself. At this point, it was normal since I let things escalate this far. She just kept touching herself. Slowly. Absently. Like it was perfectly normal.
I tried to ignore the moans and what was going on her screen. I really didn’t “watch” I just saw glimpses as I went about my day. I just started tuning it out. I started eating in my room. I started watching shows on my PC or my phone in my room. I basically started avoiding the living room. She would usually be there, focused on some sex scene, naked with her legs spread and touching herself.
She would see me, wave, and say hi sometimes; I could see how wet her fingers were. Not ashamed at all. I was always in shock and awe… admittedly a little bit of jealousy on how free she was... but still... it was so much.
I bought noise-canceling headphones. But nothing helped. Then she started moaning more and making more noise while watching. As if the nakedness and the porn wasn’t enough, she started to sound like porn too. Moaning from her, the moans from her speakers, the constant flicker of her screens—it filled the apartment. It was the apartment now.
I don’t know who Michelle is anymore. She’s not harming herself. She’s clearly not depressed. Chores are getting done. But she's not a woman anymore. She’s what they call a textbook goonette now.
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keep touching yourself