More Than a Roommate

Thanks to marching band, I had arrived first, and since this was my first year of university, I was very thankful to be able to arrive early. That meant that I could avoid the massive traffic jams as more than six thousand new students arrived for orientation, since I was actually on the practice field most of the day. It also meant that upon my arrival, I could pick the best side of the room, the best bed, and the best dresser.

Over the summer, I had traded a few letters with Samantha, my university-assigned roommate. From the three pictures she had sent, she was indeed beautiful. It was clear that she spent a fair amount of time in the sun – not surprising for someone who had grown up on the beaches of Florida. I could not tell what her natural hair color actually was, as it was black in one picture, dark blonde in another, and dark red in the third. I was a little jealous of her in the chest department, guessing that she was a C-cup gal from the two bikini pictures she sent. In all three pictures, she was hanging out with various girls, likely friends from school. But that was not unusual, as I had done the same with the two pictures I had sent of me with my best friends Julie and Maureen.

I thought about my best friends for a moment, specifically remembering the last time all three of us were together. It was a Wednesday night sleepover at Maureen's house when her parents were out of town, the last time we could all be together alone before she left for college in Montana that weekend. The laughter had given way to quiet, which had given way to touches, which had given way to hugs, which had given way to kisses, which had given way to...

I thought fondly of that experience, when, as of one mind, all three of us finally gave in to the attraction which had been bubbling beneath the surface of our friendship for years. It was a one-night experience, and the intimacy had lasted only about two hours in total, but it had truly opened my eyes, and, while I had certainly admired plenty of girls as I grew up, I suddenly saw the female form in a much different light, suddenly understanding why my big brother had always been openly ogling the female half of the species... including me.

When I returned from the practice field after a long day in the hot sun, I most definitely needed a shower before I could even think about dinner. In fact, I had forgotten that it was the day Samantha would arrive until I unlocked and opened the door to our dorm room...

First, I just noticed an abundance of stuff – stuff which clearly was not mine and thus had not been there when I had left just before breakfast that morning. Second, I noticed a purple theme to the stuff, which instantly lowered my estimation of Samantha by several notches as purple had never been one of my favorite colors (perhaps in part because my high school's biggest rival had a purple-heavy color scheme in its logos and uniforms). Third, the teddy bear on the floor beside her bed was big enough to be a small child, and seemed like a most unusual item to bring to college, especially given the tiny size of the dorm rooms.

Then when I closed the door, I noticed it: the poster which explained a lot. I had seen this very same poster in stores or online, but previously had never paid it any attention.

It was a poster of a black-and-white image of two girls. With one girl clad in a white t-shirt and panty and the other wearing a white tank top and panty, they laid together, shot from a position above the bed, holding each other and sharing what was truly a meaningful, romantic kiss.

The poster made me think once again of the final night Julie and Maureen and I had been alone together, and I smiled.

A key in the lock startled me from my memories, and I opened the door instinctively. The unexpected act surprised Samantha, but when she recognized me from the pictures I had sent, her stunned expression instantly softened.

*****

The first week of classes was fairly easy, with relatively little homework. That allowed Samantha and I to chat late into the evening, twice well into the following morning, coming to know each other.

"I've noticed you keep looking at the poster," Samantha finally commented. "Tanya Chalkin's 'Kiss.' It's one of my favorites." She looked at the poster fondly, almost the way one would look at a much-loved person.

"I've seen it sold in stores before," I said, wondering where this conversation was going, "and I've stumbled upon it on eBay a few times before. It's intriguing, but I never really paid it much attention until you put it on the back of the door."

Samantha shrugged. "I like it because it's really just two everyday girls doing what comes naturally to two people in love. There's a sensuality to it that I find intriguing. There's also a comfort is simply looking at the poster for a long period of time. I can't explain it.

"Then," she added, "it's also a good way to judge other people."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "It's been up for over a week, yet you haven't yet insisted that I take it down."

I smiled shyly, averting my eyes. "Well, I do like it as well," I admitted, "although I hadn't seen it on quite the same level you do."

"Curious?"

"Huh?" My roommate's question did not make sense, seeming to come from out of the blue.

"Never mind," she quickly replied, shaking her head.

*****

It was a Tuesday afternoon, and I had two hours to kill between classes, so I decided to go back to the dorm room and get some math homework out of the way.

From the sounds I heard coming from behind the door, however, homework was the absolute last thing on Samantha's mind.

I hesitated, the key just mere millimeters from the lock. Certainly, I recognized the sounds of carnal pleasure. Myself, I had made those very same sounds on occasion, gratifying myself when home alone, or when the sound of the shower could mask the sounds cascading from my lips.

Despite my growing desire in response to the soft sounds of feminine sexuality wafting through the door, I put the key back in my pocket. University life provides scant few opportunities for privacy, and certainly, Samantha was entitled to a bit of privacy, especially given the activities taking place in the dorm room at that moment.

Just as I was about to turn away, however, something truly shocked me:

"Katie!"

The sound of my name, spoken with a breathiness I had never heard before, stopped me in my tracks. Instantly, my heart beat a little faster and seemed to swell a bit inside my chest. I had not felt like this since the night Maureen and Julie and I had engaged in a one-night threesome.

...yet I was experiencing these reactions from someone who, in a way, was still a stranger to me.

Homework was cast to the wind. As swiftly as possible yet hopefully without attracting any attention to myself, I left the building, retreating to a small grove of trees I had discovered about a quarter-mile away along the shoreline of the lake. There, I finally stopped, my chest heaving and my legs aching from the swift exit from the dorm.

I sat upon an old bench which had probably been in the grove for longer than I had been alive. Once I had regained my breath, I began to think, to wonder, to analyze...

There was no doubt that Samantha was attracted to me. The comment about "Kiss" being used to judge a person had been the first major clue. But both before and especially after that evening, I had noticed her discretely, slyly looking at me when she thought I was not paying any attention to her. I had come to enjoy her quick, soft touches – sometimes bumping gently into me as she passed me in the tight confines of the narrow dorm room, sometimes putting her hand on my arm or my leg as we sat on a bed chatting, sometimes standing behind me and massaging my shoulders as I sat at my desk.

Yet, I realized as I sat on the old bench, I was not necessarily "innocent" in this. I had also been discreetly checking out my roommate, particularly admiring her upper curves, her well-toned skin, and her nicely-sculpted legs. The fact that she wore short skirts and tight-fitting tops almost exclusively certainly attracted my eyes, despite the semi-constant purple colors she wore. Her lengthy jet-black hair seemed to shine even as it bounced with nearly-unnatural buoyancy.

My mind drifted again to Samantha's poster. "Kiss" was becoming a favorite poster for me as well, as I often found myself looking at the poster, admiring the two girls upon the bed. The poster caused me to imagine myself sharing a bed with Samantha, holding each other and sharing a tentative kiss which eventually grew into something much more familiar, much more intimate.

My thoughts aroused me. The images in my head were becoming more and more real, truly taking shape. As I imagined the kiss deepening, I could almost feel my roommate's hands upon me, her tongue brushing mine, her breasts pressing against me.

It took a lot of effort to finally shake those images and thoughts out of my head, but my arousal did not abate. I was mostly hidden in the grove of trees, but anyone who came walking around the lake would easily see me. Still, after a few moments of hesitation, I allowed my hand to drop between my thighs and gently stroke my wet sex through my panty and denim shorts.

But, I could not pleasure myself for long, for I remembered that I had another class soon. Sadly, I stood and donned my backpack anew, then slowly made my way back toward the dorm to pick up the book I would need next.

Samantha was gone when I arrived at the dorm room, but I could just faintly discern the scent of feminine self-love in the air. Even as I retrieved my book and put it in my backpack, I envisioned Samantha upon her bed, naked, a trio of fingers plunging into her body as her free hand kneaded a plump breast, looking down her body and directly at the "Kiss" poster upon the back of the door.

"Katie!" I heard her utter breathily in my mind, and for a moment, I thought she had actually returned while I was imagining these things. Turning around quickly, I found that I was still alone in the dorm room.

With one more gaze at Samantha's bed and then one more, longer gaze at "Kiss," I left the room, the building, headed across campus to my next class.

*****

My arousal simmered for the rest of the day, and I definitely needed to do something to alleviate my slowly-growing need. I did not masturbate very often – perhaps only two or three times per month on average – but I knew my body well enough to recognize that I needed to take care of my roommate-inspired urge relatively soon.

After the afternoon band practice, I definitely needed to shower before going to dinner. Samantha was in the room, waiting for me, but she understood my need to shower first, watching me slyly as I gathered my shower items and went down the hall.

With the loud sound of the falling spray to cover any sounds I might make, I braced myself against the wall with one hand and furiously toyed with my clitoris, breathing hard and attempting to remain as quiet as possible as the warm water cascaded over my heated, lurching body. It had been a long time since I had felt my heart beat so fast, so hard as I pleasured myself.

"S-S-Samantha!" The fact that my roommate's name sprang forth from my lips, even though it was simply in a breathless whisper, pleasantly surprised me. Her name was also the key, unlocking the dam which had held back my orgasm. With my eyes clenched shut and fireworks exploding within my eyelids, I felt as if I was floating even as I rode the rough, turbulent tsunami waves of desire.

...and when reality set back in and I felt arms around me and especially a pair of naked breasts pressed against my back, I nearly screamed from the shock of the realization that I was no longer alone. But when one of the hands reached for my right breast and easily engulfed the small protrusion, I somehow knew even without opening my eyes.

"That was beautiful, Katie."

Samantha's voice was as fluid and as refreshing as the water falling upon us. I leaned back into her, and she supported me in my post-climactic bliss. Her kiss upon my shoulder and her squeeze of my breast renewed the arousal I had just satisfied; despite the sound of the shower, she must have heard my soft whimper, for Samantha gave my breast another, firmer squeeze.

It was by far the longest shower I had ever taken.

*****

At dinner, Samantha and I barely spoke. Yet it was not an uncomfortable silence. Despite the clamor of the university cafeteria, despite the close proximity of dozens of people around us, we may as well have been the only two people in the country, eating slowly and unabashedly gazing at each other.

After dinner, we strolled back toward the dorm, taking a long detour toward and along the lake. When we reached the same grove of trees in which I had spent part of the day, we sat upon the old bench, gazing out across the water as we held hands. With Samantha's head upon my shoulder, everything seemed right with the world.

"You know..." Samantha began, then hesitated a moment. "You know, when I first saw your photos over the summer, I secretly hoped that you were a lesbian, or at least bisexual. As I've come to know you since we arrived here, I've really come to love you. Or maybe it's just a deep, intense infatuation. I don't know. But in any case, I think about you a lot. I hoped that you might feel the same about me."

I gave Samantha's hand a squeeze. "I do," I answered honestly. "And, since we're being really open with each other, when I heard you call out my name while you were pleasing yourself today..."

"You heard!?!" She sat up straight, instantly blushing.

I nodded with a smile. "I was pleasantly surprised," I continued. "I was flattered, to say the least. And then I came here, to give you some privacy, and also to think, and I realized that I really want to be more than just a roommate to you."

Just then, Samantha released my hand and stood. "Let's go back to the room," she suddenly suggested, subtly nodding her head toward the trio of guys approaching along the shore. I agreed, and we made our way back to the dorm.

No longer did I have a roommate. Instead, I had a live-in girlfriend. And as we stood in the small room, we held each other as we both gazed at her "Kiss" poster.

Perhaps "Kiss" is a good tool to use to judge other people.