Horny CRC Couch Excited for Residents to F*ck on Him Again

“I just can’t wait for these hormonal teens to climax on my recliner,” thirty-seven-year-old Couch growls. 

The leather on his seats, although seemingly glossy and clean, is covered in layers upon layers of dried cum, blood-stains, and shame. Couch, reposed and stolid (for, he’s a couch), continues flapping his cushions with a mysterious voice resounding from deep within his stuffing.

We meet in the shady basement of the Communications Residential College. Is this floor a hideout for the infamous Northwestern Baby Bandit of ‘09 or a building hazard in dire need of renovations? This reporter does not pretend to know, nor does she want to.

“I’ve witnessed a lot of weird kinky sh*t in my time,” Couch continues with a sniff, “missionary, 69, 96, 420, pegging, scissoring, doggy-style, tiger-style, bird-shit-style, raccoon-in-trash-can-style, fork-in-garbage-disposal style. And I don’t discriminate. White, Black, Asian, Lebanese, gay, straight, penises that skew to the left, penises that skew to the right, penises that look like a goddamn bell-curve... you get the gist.” 

I ask how he’s been holding up since COVID-19 hit.

“Oh, you know, I’m a little bit depressed, but who isn’t?” Couch half-sighs, half-chuckles. 

“I hate to say it, but I haven’t taken a fat chode in my slits since they sent everyone home. But also, who’s finding love in this climate? It’s a quarantine, after all.”

I nod, politely standing and making a mental note that I better be more careful as to where I’m sitting. I then thank him for his time, and leave. I close the doors to the dorm behind me, silently vowing to bring a black light with me next time. 

Freshmen and sophomores alike can finally enjoy Couch’s presence once more upon returning this quarter. I contemplate how much the Couch has seen -- how he, although an admittedly overtly-sexual piece of furniture, is a part of this campus’s history, much like the electrical engineering professor known as “Baby Bandit” who liked collecting young infants and kicking them through the Lakeside field goal like footballs.  

Also, to Emily and Connell, Couch wanted me to let you know just how much he misses your presence, right down to the weird monkey sounds that Connell makes upon orgasm. Couch’s counting the days until you can both fuck each other’s brains out on top of him once more.