More Than a Roommate Ch. 02

I had just returned from an away game, still in my hot, sticky marching band uniform. Without question, I definitely needed a shower, and then I needed to relax. I probably also felt relatively "down" because the football team had lost a very close game when the opposing team's kicker had actually made – by mere inches – a 59-yard field goal as time expired.

When I arrived at the dorm, I heard laughter and music down the hallway. It sounded like Marlene was having a small party in her room, and thought that I might drop by later – if I felt more human.

Eventually, I mounted the stairs, and stood outside the small dorm room I shared with Samantha. Through the door, I heard some soft music playing, a light, airy melody which itself eased my aching feet and lifted my spirits a little.

The fact that there was any music coming from the other side of the door also meant that my roommate was "home." That brought a smile to my weary face as I unlocked the door, knowing that I could once again be in the presence of my beautiful lover.

Stepping into the dorm room, I stepped into candlelight; a large pillar candle burned atop each dresser. The two beds had been pushed together and moved to directly underneath the window, and from the slight movement of the blinds, I could immediately see the value of this new configuration, giving us better access to the breezes as we slept, as well as a little more floor space in the center of the small haven.

And, most importantly, laying upon the bed was my sweet Samantha, clad only in a light-purple matching bra and panty set. She slowly stood as I closed and locked the door behind me, and by the time I had set down my backpack, she stood before me, and a heartbeat later, I was in her arms again.

*****

When I returned from my much-needed shower, vanilla-scented incense was burning atop my dresser, and Samantha stood to the side with the bottle of almond-scented massage oil I had bought earlier in the week. Clearly, the bottle was about to be used for the first time.

Nothing was said as I untied the belt of my terrycloth robe and set it across the back of my chair. I stood fully nude before my sweet, sweet lover, my entire being fully on display for her. Samantha smiled appreciatively, drinking me in, reveling in my presentation. For just a moment, I did feel a little self-conscious, given that I am not nearly as busty as she is, but reminded myself that she did not care about my small breasts, that she truly cared for me as an individual, as someone she clearly cherished and loved.

Nothing was said as she gestured toward the bed, her unspoken command as loud as a yelled directive.

The feel of those small, soft, loving hands melted my skin. The act of those small, soft, loving hands melted my heart.

The music continued, long lingering pieces which conveyed the love we shared and which bound us ever closer together. The sweet melodies combined with the sweet touches and the sweet scent caused my love to slowly seep from my womanhood and my nipples to bore into the sheets beneath me. My body became as pliable as Play-Doh under Samantha's selfless ministrations, and I felt as if I would transform into a puddle of loving ooze upon the bed, a puddle from which Samantha could drink, to use my love to fuel her and propel her through life.

She kissed me at the base of my spine. "Turn over when you're ready," she whispered, her voice just barely audible over the sensual music, as if speaking any louder would profane and disperse the warm energy which filled our small haven. Although she did not touch me, instead sitting on the edge of the bed and watching me, it took several minutes for me to will myself to slowly roll to my back. Only then did my much-needed massage resume, the eye contact nearly continuous, broken only when Samantha needed to obtain more of the almond-scented oil to apply to my all-too-willing skin.

When all but my face and my hair had been slickened, Samantha finally put the bottle of massage oil aside and stretched out upon me, maneuvering her hair out of the way before her lips descended to mine. My arms wrapped gently around her, my lips met hers. She swallowed my whimper of delight, of desire, taking my breath into her, her hand snaking between us to engulf a small breast. As the gentle breeze wafted over us, as her weight pressed me deeper into the bed, as her hands and her lips slowly increased my arousal, I acquiesced, allowed her to do with me as she desired, until ultimately a small orgasm washed over my senses just from the contact with my lips and my breast.

It was small, but it was enough to satiate me. With a final kiss, Samantha dismounted me, dismounted the bed. The vanilla incense had extinguished itself sometime during the massage, and the two candles had each burned noticeably lower. One by one, the candles were extinguished, plunging our loving abode into near-total darkness. The music repeated, but I did not mind and Samantha did not seem to care, for she returned to the bed, to me, and, in the dim light filtering through the blinds, undressed before my eyes, a goddess incarnate revealing herself to a true believer.

We both were naked atop the covers, holding each other close and sharing a kiss. In my mind's eye, I watched us from above the bed, seeing us in black-and-white, in a reenactment of "Kiss."

And it was in that position that we finally entered the realm of blissful, loving slumber.