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I sat on the couch, frustrated as hell. Finals were coming soon, and my head was spinning nonstop. An outlet for me needed to be found. One where drama wouldn’t come with it. I sat there as a clueless twenty-three-year-old brunette, just hoping that things would become better.

Little did I know, that the solution was walking through the door. My twenty-four-year-old roommate, standing at five foot ten, with her long blonde hair, and c-cup breasts, saw me, and knew what I was thinking.

“You’ll get through it, Jim,” she replied, as she sat down with me.

‘I gotta do something to get myself out of this funk. I can’t even think straight, Stacy,’ I told her.

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