Saying Stay Ch. 01

Dawn didn't seem nearly as stressed out about this situation as I was. "Honestly, usually I'm more naked."

There was the creak of the front door opening again, and I hastily cast the sheet back over Dawn's lap. "Hey Mike!" yelled my dad. "Don't stick us with all the work, 'ey?"

"Right." I hurried to help them with the last of the boxes. When we were done my small room had its floor covered in a pale brown labrynth of cardboard, but I was unpacked.

Tim slapped me on the shoulder. "So, you know any good bars around here?"

"Come on," said my dad. "I'm sure Mike doesn't want us hanging around his new house embarassing him in front of his roommates."

I didn't want to admit that he was more or less right, although they weren't the ones I would be embarassed for. "Well, I mean, you can stay if you want, but I'm not sure what we would do... hey, where's Mom?"

"Oh, I think she went upstairs to talk with that girl. I think those two really hit it off. Always nice to know that you're in good hands, eh?"

I rushed upstairs, worried about what scene of debauchery my straight-laced prarie mother might find herself in. Dawn was in the same position, sheet spread over her humming crotch, although she was starting to lose her composure. As Dawn was relating her background (city girl since birth, went to a small university, working as a freelance graphic designer), she kept breaking into inappropriate giggles. I headed in to try and salvage things.

"Uh, if you guys want something to eat, there's a nice deli place down on the corner..." I said.

Dawn suddenly broke into a low, undeniably sexual moan. Even in my stress I felt a pulse of attraction surge through me. My mom furrowed her brow. "Are you all right?"

"Mom, Dawn's, um, feeling sick. You know, it's that flu that's been going around. She should really get some bed rest." Dawn nodded, biting a quivering lip. The buzzing sound seemed louder and more rapid than before.

My apparently oblivious mother clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh dear! Of course. If you need me to, I can make some of that chicken noodle soup you always had when you were sick as a kid..."

"No, I think we're fine," I said. I extended a hand to Dawn, which she grabbed onto and let me help her up. "I'll just help Dawn here to her room..."

She leaned on my shoulder as I practically carried her up the stairs -- it didn't seem necessary until I noticed how much her legs were shaking, her hips pumping against the air. I banged my head on the low ceiling, provoking a giggle from Dawn, and then she let out a throaty gasp.

"Oh shit--" I clapped a hand over her mouth as an obvious orgasm ripped through her. Dawn struggled against my grip like a slippery snake, lost in the madness of pleasure. Even muffled through my hands her cries seemed plenty loud, and I was sure my family would be running up to investigate any minute now.

Eventually she calmed down, although she was still breathing heavily and propped up on shaky legs. I helped her the rest of the way up the stairs, and into the room she pointed me to.

Dawn's room probably could have been mistaken for that of a 13-year-old boy's. The walls were decorated with posters from rock bands and comic books, most of them scantily-clad heroines striking alluring poses. Some amalgm of lines and shapes was sketched on a whiteboard that hung over her Mac laptop. A closet door had a juvenile paper sign taped to it reading "MISTRESS DAWN'S SHIT -- KEEP OUT!" A queen-sized bed took up most of the room, and Dawn allowed me to dump her on it.

Wincing, Dawn reached down to remove the still-buzzing sex toy -- whatever it was -- from her panties. "Jeez, that thing's really tough on you after you come and you're all over-sensitive."

"I bet."

She looked up to me, blushing for the first time. "Sorry about that Mike. I really didn't know when you were moving in and, well, I like to play around. I'm a bit of an exhibitionist, as you can see. I'm a bit of everything, really."

"Yeah, well I don't really care what weird shit you guys get up to around here, but my mother is not a part of your exhibitionist games."

There was a kind of alluring, kind of aggravating twinkle in Dawn's eyes. "You sure? For someone her age, she's pretty--"

"Please don't finish that sentence."

Dawn rolled onto her back and let out a long, contented sigh. She looked like a cat lying in a sunbeam. I turned to go back and leave the troublemaker here. "Hey Mike."

"Yeah?"

"You sure you want to go talk to your mother with that hard-on?"

I looked down to discover that I did indeed have a prominent erection tenting my jeans. It wasn't really that surprising, considering I had just been clinging to an orgasming girl who was, I had to admit, pretty easy on the eyes. Even now I had to stop myself from staring at her full, round tits rising and falling with her breasts...

"Hey, I can help you with that if you want."

I responded by storming out of the room. Dawn went into another giggling fit behind me. I tried to think of baseball, grandmothers, apple pie, the nubile girl shuddering and moaning in my arms...

This was perhaps going to be more difficult than I thought.

--

My arrival had fallen on Simon's day to cook, and he had gone all out, spending most of the day in the kitchen as a green apron-clad whirling dervish. I had spent most of the afternoon unpacking and shooting the shit with Padma, when we could hear ourselves over the crappy music emerging from Josh's room. I wondered how he fit into the big commune ideal. When we emerged for supper the compost in the back yard was topped with a rainbow of pepper and other vegetable husks, the grisly signs of the plant genocide that went into making Simon's vegetable lasagna. The kitchen was also a mess, but a great-smelling mess.

Padma breathed in deeply, pulling the fumes into herself. "I'm salivating over here, man."

Simon swatted her hands away from the jar. "It still has to sit for a couple minutes. You can do drinks."

The girl mewled like a starving kitten. "Mike, I'm subcontracting this out to you. Pour us some wine. Actually, ginger ale for Ellie, she doesn't drink... and you can get yourself whatever you want, I suppose."

"Wait, why do I have to do it? It's Simon's cooking night, isn't it."

Padma gave me an exaggerated sigh of condescension. "Don't be a child." She drifted off to bask in the aroma of the lasagna.

Resigned to my fate, I poured six glasses of white wine and one of ginger ale. I had to admit, the table looked nice, with the steaming main dish in the centre surrounded by covered mystery sides. For a bunch of weird hippies, they classed up real well.

Julia, Dawn and Josh all drifted in, the first two practically salivating and the second looking like he was a kid at a boring family gathering. Simon served up his final dish, a big plate of brown rice, with a flourish of his apron. "Geez," I said. "I hope I'm not expected to do this once a week."

"You're not," said Padma. "We just thought we would have a big dinner to welcome you. That and Simon likes to show off." The show-off cook in question shrugged as he sat down to eat.

"Aren't we missing one?" I said.

"Ellie hasn't gotten back from work yet," said Simon. "I guess one of us has to have a real job."

Josh raised his hand to protest. "I have a real job!"

Dawn forked a pile of yams onto her plate while laughing sardonically. "Oh please. You're a professional work-out buddy."

"Trainer. The term is professional trainer."

I wasn't sure what I was expecting at that meeting -- more demanding interrogation, or maybe political dogma shouted in between forkfuls of falafel. But it was light and fun and somehow totally comfortable -- just friends getting together to have good food and make jokes, usually at each others' expense. And the food was excellent -- Simon managed to get flavours out of peppers I hadn't conceived of before.

Everyone was wiping their plates clean, with the exception of Josh. He was picking at his food like a fussy child, grabbing the carrots and pasta from the lasagna and leaving most of the other vegetables. He had a couple yams, but that was about it.

When he saw me inspecting his plate, he looked up with a sad smile. "You would not beleive how sick you get of vegetables living in this house. That's my one regret."

"Is it all vegetarian in here?" I said. I realized that I should have asked about this beforehand.

"Look, I'm vegan, Padma and Simon are vegetarians, deal with it," said Julia. "If you guys want to pollute your bodies with the flesh of living things, I'm not going to stop you, but be considerate of us and don't put it in communal meals, m'kay?" I felt like someone somewhere was about to splash fake blood on me.

Josh elbowed me conspiratorily. "Hey man, if you ever get cravings I have a stash of cold cuts in my room."

Any further debate was silenced by the opening of the door and the unmistakeable click-click of high heels on hardwood. A middle-aged blonde dressed in a blue suit and skirt quickly made her way to the dining room. I vaguely remembered seeing her at the earlier meeting, although she hadn't said anything in my presence. I presumed this was Ellie.

"Hey gang," she said, shucking her suit jacket off her shoulders. Underneath she wore a white blouse that looked as though it cost more than every article of clothing the rest of us were wearing combined. "Sorry I'm late, the subway got held up in the tunnel... some snafu. Smells good! Oh hi new guy, I'm Ellen Mor-- Ellen Hutcherson. Pleased to meet you." She stuck out a hand and I, somewhat hypnotized, shook it.

"Ellie is basically the mom of the group here," said Padma. "We saved you some food, but you'd better eat it quickly before Dawn snatches it all."

"Why do I get singled out?" Dawn whined.

"Because you eat everything!"

Ellie sat down and carefully served herself up a plate of food before eating it in polite small bites, making sure not to spill anything on her clothes. I had no idea how this person fit in with the rest of the group. Was she just bankrolling them? Someone's sugar mommy? Whatever the case was, she didn't give me any clues, staying distant from the casual, almost guttural conversation around the table. At one point Dawn launched into a dirty joke involving three sisters, a frozen hot dog, and their parrot, but she only got halfway through before Simon brought out some tarts for desert and distracted us all once more.

"I'm stuffed," I said, feeling my belt suddenly too tight.

"People say that a lot around here," said Padma. Everyone laughed -- even Ellie tittered a little. I started wondering if maybe this was going to be so bad after all. The people certainly were strange, but was that such a bad thing?

--

People sort of dispersed after the meal, with Simon relegated to washing dishes and the rest of us going in pairs or alone to our rooms. I had finally managed to get onto the house's shaky Internet connection and spent the next few hours surfing the web, hitting up all of my usual websites and blogs and getting caught up on my Facebook feed. I started to get that hollowed-out feeling I did after too much time online, when the feeling of triviality seeped into my skin. It was sort of like the taste in your mouth after a lot of fast food, that cheap taste of regret. I thought about loading up some porn and masturbating, but I didn't feel like it.

What else could I do? What else did I do? I had been so wrapped up in the school thing, caught between abstract contemplation and the imminent catastrophes of essays and exams, that I really didn't know what to do with my time now that I had it. I knew I had to get a job, but no one was returning my calls.

I drifted out into the hallway, looking for a distraction. There was no one in sight or sound -- even Josh's room was silent. I knocked on Padma's door just to be sure, but there was no answer.

I went up the creeking stairs, and realized that this house could be very spooky empty and at night. After all, the old house with plenty of dark corridoors is a classic horror set. I half expected to find a dangling corpse when I turned into the living room.

What I found instead was Padma, stretched out on the couch with Julia's hand in between her legs, naked save for her long black socks and a bra that still clung to her right arm. My legs locked up, and I couldn't do anything but stare. Here she was, the girl I had spent so many dull classes undressing in my mind, with her clothes on the floor and her soft brown skin, like earthen clay, all exposed for me to see. I couldn't help but fixate on her peach-sized breasts, topped with hard dark nipples that glistened with saliva shine.

Julia was still fully clothed, her eyes locked on the nubile young girl spread out before her. I couldn't really see all the movements of her hand between Padma's legs, but it was definitely moving back and forth, producing gasps of pleasure from my friend.

Padma threw her head forward, eyes snapping open, on a particularly forceful thrust and saw me for the first time. "Oh, um, hi Matt."

Julia turned her head around, never stopping the thrusting motion of her fingers, but giving me a cocky grin. It seemed almost like a challenge. I had no idea what to do. It wasn't like this was ever a situation I thought I'd be in. Padma looked equally alarmed, the proverbial deer in the headlights.

I gave the coupling girls a week wave. "Uh, hi. I have to, uh, do, er, go somewhere. Bye!"

I could hear Julia's caustic laughter as I beat a hasty retreat, running as fast as I could with a hardening cock. I hadn't had such trouble controlling my dick since puberty. Then again, I hadn't randomly seen as many girls in the throws of passion since... well, ever. I made it to my room without encountering anyone else and slammed the door shut.

Once again, my boner-suppression techniques failed me. I couldn't think of baseball scores or politicians for more than a second before my mind flashed back to the writhing, sweaty body of Padma. Somehow she seemed to get hotter every time I thought of her. Oh well. At least this time I was in a situation to deal with it.

I slid out of my pants and lay on the bed, cock pointing straight up. The grasp of my fist was familiar and I soon found myself pumping up and down in the usual steady rhythm. My spare hand ran along my balls, my thighs, occasionally up to my nipples. In my mind there was only Padma and her sweet dusky breasts, those round lips parting to issue a gasp of pleasure. Only in the fantasy it was me between her legs, thrusting into her tight passage, feeling her warmth envelop me.

"Hi Mike!"

I just about had a heart attack. I scrambled for a sheet to cover me, but they were all still packed, and my underpants were on the ground several feet away. In the end I ended up holding a pillow in front of my cock like a Chippendale's dancer or something.

It was Dawn who had barged into my room, and now looked to be on the verge of breaking out into hysterical laughter. "You could have knocked!" I said. I ended up shouting it, and was now aware that probably the whole house could guess what was going on.

"Nah, this was way funnier," said Dawn. "I was going to ask if you wanted to play some Halo with Josh and I, but you seem to have your hands full so..."

"Give me a minute," I said. "I need to--" I stopped in my tracks, paralyzed by Dawn's hand on my arm.

"It's good to know that even the Great Abstainer needs to rub one out once in a while," she said, a soft purr creeping into her voice. "Let me guess, you ran into Julia and Padma in flagrante whatever in the living room, right?" I nodded. "See, I knew you were a sexual being like the rest of us."

I was growing irritated with her teasing. "Do these doors lock?"

"Of course not." Dawn put her other hand on my shoulder. Two hands, ten warm earthy fingers making soft touches against my flesh. I remembered my resolve not to get involved with whatever weird sexual cult these people had going on, but that seemed so irritating and abstract to the pressing need throbbing against the pillow. "Hey, don't feel bad. We've both caught each other wanking, so what's to be ashamed about?"

I tried to respond, but my conversational facilities seemed to have died, and I just stood there with my mouth open like an idiot. Dawn trailed her hand downwards, curling around my chest hair, until she grasped hold of the pillow and gently set it aside. My dick sprang up eagerly.

"My. I thought this looked big, but I wanted to check from close up..."

"Dawn, we shouldn't--" She leaned into me and pressed her lips against mine. My lips, already open for a rebuke, let her tongue slip past into my mouth. The feeling of her young body, the swell of her curves pressing against me. I stopped talking for a while.

She pushed me back on the bed, my shaky legs offering no resistance. With a few quick, casual motions, Dawn pulled her shirt over her head and unclipped her bra, leaving them in a pile on the floor. I couldn't help but stare at her breasts, those full half-globes mounted by big red aureolae and dusky brown nipples. Her body was voluptuous, the kind of classical curvy beauty that had (I was suddenly convinced) been unfairly discarded for twig-thin blondes. The all-over thickness was nowhere more concentrated then in her heavy, hanging breasts that swayed just a little as she strode towards me.

Dawn dropped down to a kneel suddenly and sucked my cock into her mouth. I sat straight up with surprise. There was no prelude -- she was eagerly bobbing her head up and down on my shaft, applying the sweetest of suction with her hot and talented mouth. There was a certain fine swirl of the tongue that she did as she withdrew that made me gasp out loud. Grinning, Dawn dove back down, swallowing most of my length and acquainting the underside of my cock with the rough texture of her tongue, then pulling off and doing that same move around the head. Once again, I cried out. I was, it seemed, an easy toy to play with.

With her hands Dawn ran over my thighs, stopping to cup my balls, but only shortly before moving onto other parts of my body. It was the same motions my own hand had been making moments before, but of course no matter how much of a maestro of self-pleasure I was, having this half-naked girl between my legs sucking along the side of my cock intensified the sensation incredibly.

Dawn spat onto my cockhead and rubbed the saliva up and down my shaft, lubricating it more. The motions of her hand were smooth but frantic as she jacked me off. With her other hand she scratched the underside of my balls, shifting a knuckle up towards my anal entrance. I felt as though I was going to blow any second now, spurting in the talented hands of my smug-looking but sexy housemate.

I shifted away, moving back onto my bed. Some kind of conscience, or reluctance, or desire not to flatter her by coming in her hands, made me retreat. "Dawn..."

"What's the matter? Not into ass play? That's cool, but you're missing out on a lot."

"That's not it. We... we shouldn't be doing this." It was hard to put together coherent, much less persuasive sentences, especially when my cock was screaming mutiny at me. But I remembered that there had been a reason I didn't want to have sex with her. If only I could remember what it was.

"You're right."

"I am? I mean... of course I am."

Dawn stood up and straddled my thighs. "Yeah. We should definitely be fucking." I wanted to protest further, but I would be speaking right into her chest, those heavy, full orbs dangling right in front of my face... it wouldn't hurt to touch them, I thought. Suck on one for a little bit. After all, it was only fair after what she had done to my unmentionables. What goes around comes around.