Fi Ch. 05: Fi's Solution

Mike stood over the toilet in Pete's apartment. His wet boxers were on the floor beside him. Pete's girl had soaked them with water. Was it an accident? It seemed... convenient. That whole episode seemed odd. How exactly had her shirt ended up so thoroughly drenched? He looked down at the stream of yellow piss, and suddenly he was picturing Fi's face under his cock. Had she smiled?

His dick was throbbing despite feelings of guilt. Was he really about to slip his dick into her mouth? It would have been easy. Pete wouldn't need to find out, would he? Not like they were best buds or anything. They went to college together, that was all. In fact, they didn't. Pete was his tutor, not his friend!

Fi was in Pete's bedroom, right across the hall. Mike, still holding his dick, considered just going into the bedroom and screwing her brains out. He was fucking horny as fuck. Pete would know, though. Wouldn't he? His houseguest, in his actual bed, fucking his actual girl. Fucking slut. His dick was still hard.

Another thought crossed his mind. He wasn't thinking about Melissa, anymore. In one fell stroke, Fi had replaced her in his fantasies. Shit.

Fi was in Pete's bedroom, naked, horny, but mostly worried. That hadn't gone to plan. She almost blew it! Blew him! If she had let herself go ahead and suck it, Mike would almost certainly have told Pete.

He hadn't, though. He'd lied to his buddy's face while his massive - and it really was a big one - cock was on his girlfriend's face. He had potential.

Still, though, if Fi just threw herself at him, he'd be sure to tell Pete. Mike had to be the one to make the first move. She had to make sure his cock was doing all the thinking.

How best to achieve that? How should she dress, how should she act? Slutty or frumpy? Slutty to keep Mike hard, or frumpy to make him think that it was all a crazy accident?

Or, she thought, should I just leave the bedroom door open and let him come in and take me on Pete's bed? Fuck, I'm so horny now!

In the mood she was in, there was no way she could play the frump. Slutty might be too obvious, though. Pete was still here, after all.

She didn't really have a lot of clothes here, anyway, so she couldn't dress all that sexy anyway. A loose fitting Fleetwood Mac t-shirt, even though she'd never seen the band, and a pair of daisy dukes were the order of the day. The t-shirt would let her tits move and give the impression of her nipples without showing them off. The daisy dukes were long enough that it wasn't obvious, but the crotch was torn and frayed enough that she could "accidentally" flash her pussy if she sat a certain way. In fact, there was barely a thread there at all. She intended to use that.

She threw the college football jersey back on and bundled the two garments under her arm and headed for the bathroom.

Mike was standing over the toilet, dick in both hands, rapidly jerking off. The picture of Fi with his cock on her face and a satisfied smirk was burned into his brain and he had to dislodge it before he did something that he might regret.

He hadn't had sex in weeks, which probably contributed to the way he was feeling. The breakup with Melissa had been the end of a relationship where sex wasn't really frequent or vigorous, so not only was he pent up, he was also frustrated.

Fi had awakened a list in him that he had forgotten existed. An animal craving, which he used to be able to satisfy with every college girl with a thing for big dicks. Even some female instructors.

It had been so long since he'd had any wild sex that just seeing the look in Fi's eyes was enough to make him jerk off in his buddy's bathroom, fantasising about her.

In his imagination, she was kneeling in front of him with her mouth open and a wet t-shirt that only covered her tits. He grabbed her by the ears and pulled her onto his dick, forcing it down her tight throat. Then he started fucking her face with those sticking out ears as hand holds. He was going to feed her so much cum...

Knock knock knock

"Mike? You gonna be much longer?" Shit, it was her. What was he gonna do?

"No," he tried not to sound breathless. "Just, ahh, coming."

Sure you are, she thought. You big horn dog, you. I wonder how much...

"Don't be too long," she called, hoping to disrupt him, "or I might wet myself."

Shit, shit, shit, he thought. He couldn't cum in here if she was coming in after him! She would smell it or something. Think about politics, think about politics.

His dick didn't soften much, but enough. He didn't have another clean pair of boxer shorts with him, so he supposed that he was going commando today.

He threw on a pair of jeans, carefully zipping them up so not to catch his still engorged tackle painfully. He had a plaid button up shirt on top.

When he opened the door, Fi was waiting. She didn't give him time to get out of the doorway before she slipped past him. She must have really had to go.

He closed the door and went to get a coffee. Pete had made a pot and mopped up the puddle on the floor. Once he had a cup full, he went back to the living room. It wasn't until he had sat down on the chair in the living room that he realised that Fi hadn't locked the bathroom door. Blood rushed to his manhood again. Did she want him to walk in? Should he? Would Pete catch on? Did he care?

He had just about convinced himself to fuck his buddy's girl in the bathroom, when she wafted into the room, smelling of perfume and looking like a vision. A t-shirt that her tits looked amazing in, and shorts that were as close to heaven as anyone could hope to get. He hoped no one noticed his jeans tenting.

Fi noticed immediately that Mike appreciated her choice of clothes. There was no hiding that pavilion tent in his pants, and the way he tensed up like a teenager boy was adorable. She loved the effect she was having on him. If he wasn't going to be gone soon, taking that schlong with him, the teasing could have gone on for a lot longer. It was fun, but that weighty meat was the goal. It had to be in her, and soon.

They talk about 'cougars'. Older women on the hunt for sex. Fi wasn't a cougar. For a start, she wasn't 'older'. More importantly, though, she was much better at it than those desperate housewives. She was a lioness. When she was on the hunt, nothing escaped her notice. Not her prey, not some other predator, nothing.

Pete was under the impression that he was being sneaky, but Fi had him scouted. He was sitting on the sofa, waiting for her to walk past. One of two things was going to happen. Either, he was going to give her a scare or...

He grabbed her, playfully, and pulled her down to his lap, kissing her neck and tickling her sides. Having predicted this move, she used the fake surprise to her advantage, pulling the t-shirt tight and flailing her legs, knowing that Mike might get a flash of pussy, or that her jiggling jugs would have him drooling.

Twisting, she returned Pete's kisses, adding tongue for good measure. The way she twisted left her legs apart enough that Mike could see pink skin under her shorts. A hint of pussy, perhaps, but he wasn't sure. Then she sat down on the sofa with Pete.

"So," Fi began, "how do you all feel this morning." She sounded cheerful, but everyone knew that this was some trap. They were all hungover, feeling awful, although Pete was mostly just tired. If anyone had bothered looking at the clock, they'd be shocked to find that it was almost 2 in the afternoon.

"Actually," Mike answered, scratching at his cock. Had she really just flashed him? "last night was cathartic. I think I needed it. Thanks, guys."

Fi leaned forward, making her tits fall forward in her t-shirt, and pulling the neck forward. Mike instinctively looked into her cleavage, until he felt her hand on his leg. He looked into her eyes, and she winked with the one he had covered earlier, squeezing his thigh a little.

"So glad we could help you feel better." She said, holding his gaze.

"It's what friends do," said Pete, between sips of his coffee.

Fi licked her lips, and leaned closer. For a second, Mike thought something hot was about to happen. That was until Fi stood up, suddenly.

"Is there any of that coffee left, Petey?"

"Sure, I made a pot." His tone changed, and it was clear that he was giving Fi a hard time when he went on to say, "since no one else had." She stuck out her tongue at him.

"I can't help it if some oversized dick faucet gets out of control in your kitchen." Mike winced, reading the double meaning, but Pete didn't have a clue.

"That extendable spray head cost me an extra sixty bucks," Pete complained, "and you can leave it on the hook to use it like a normal tap."

"That's no fun," she laughed, "who doesn't want to pull it out and make it longer?"

This time both guys looked at her with raised eyebrows. She covered her mouth and looked shocked.

"You boys have dirty minds," she accused, spinning on her heels and sashaying into the open plan kitchen, swaying her hips like a sex goddess.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind a refill," said Mike, getting up with a groan. Pete took a sip of his coffee and turned on the TV as his buddy walked past on the way into the kitchen.

"Will you give me some cream?" Fi said, pointing to the fridge.

"Sure," he said, feeling that twitch in his cock at the double entendre. He had barely opened the door when Fi appeared behind him.

"I'll take that," she said, as she grabbed his empty cup and the cream from him while he stood with a cute, startled look on his face. "Go bring me the dirty clothes you left in the bathroom, I'll put a washing on."

Mike got a little flushed, embarrassed that he'd left his wet boxers shorts on the bathroom floor and that Fi had found them. What was more, it was a reminder that he wasn't wearing any underwear now. Did she know, somehow?

Fi wanted to pinch his rosy little cheek and say "cootchie coo", but her hands were full. She swished away.

Mike expected to find his wet boxers on the floor where he'd left them, but they weren't there. He looked around, and eventually found them next to the shower, on top of the college football jersey and the wet t-shirt. Fi had moved them. She had held them in her hands. While she was naked. Shit, he was so horny that the image of Fi picking up his wet boxers in the nude was giving him a hard on.

Why the hell would she do that, anyway? Who is picking up wet shorts with no clothes on? Was there something sexual in it? Did she touch herself with them? She was probably just tidying up. Aargh!

He carried the wet pile through to the living room, where he added a couple of other things from his bag.

"Here you go," he said, walking into the kitchen. Fi's ass was high in the air, and her head was inside the washing machine. It was a beautiful view. The daisy duke hot pants were so tight, she couldn't possibly be wearing anything under them.

"Thanks," she said from inside the machine. "You'll have to put your own cream in. I wasn't sure how much you had. Just drop those."

He took a second to figure out what she wanted him to drop. His pants? And put cream where? No, drop the clothes and cream the coffee. What an ass! Right there! What I wouldn't do... Damn, my dick is already getting hard again!

She turned around, resting on her haunches. She was at the right height to get cock on her face again.

"Why don't you just go ahead and put it in?" She winked. "I'll take it out." It was wicked, she knew, but the bulge in his pants told her that he was catching every not so subtle dirty meaning, but not quite believing that it was deliberate.

Meanwhile, Mike was having palpitations. Was she in his mind? He almost needed to fuck her at this point, and here she was, basically telling him to put his dick in her right now. Wasn't she?

She stood up and walked over to the mugs of coffee before he could react in any meaningful way.

"I think I have domesticated our guest, Petey," she called into the living room, rising from her haunches. He laughed, not looking up from his game.

Mike shook himself. She was talking about the washing. Of course she was. How could he have thought of anything else? His balls were beginning to hurt.

Fi vaulted up and sat on the counter. Watching Mike struggle to crouch without painfully bending his ramrod, she sipped her coffee. While he filled the washing machine, her wicked mind whirred with wild plans. As long as he didn't cum in his pants, his balls would be as blue as the lights in a truck stop toilet.

A strategically located coffee cup, between her legs so as to cover her virtually bare pussy from his view, while drawing his attention to the movement of it whenever she took a sip. Timing was everything, so she had to wait until he turned to pick up his wet boxers. "Watch out for those," she giggled drawing his attention, "there's a monster hiding in them!"

Mike looked up, just as planned, which triggered the next part of her plan. With a sly smile, the temptress lifted the cup covering her almost bare pussy, and spread her legs slightly. Her heart raced, this was such a rush.

Mike's eye was immediately drawn to the cup, and then to what it had been covering. Fi followed his eyes, and as soon as she saw them bulge, she crossed her legs. It all happened quickly. Fi hoped it was quick enough that he would question what he was looking at. Enough to give him a peek, but not so that it was obvious that it was deliberate. Her pussy moistened.

Mike wasn't so groggy and off guard as he had been this morning. He recovered quickly this time, replying,

"That monster only comes out when it sees something it likes."

Fi uncrossed her legs and crossed them in the other direction in a near perfect "Basic Instinct" imitation. Just like when Sharon Stone did it, Mike was certain he'd seen a flash of something, and he wished he could hit rewind.

"He must have really liked me, then," she said, satisfied that he had had an eyeful. "He jumped right on top of me!"

"Yeah," Mike faltered, "about that..." His eyes darted towards Pete, who was pewpewing away. "What are you playing?" He shouted over.

"What?" Pete responded loudly, not looking up.

"I said what you playing?"

"Oh," he yelled. "Halo."

"He really can't hear us?" he asked Fi.

"I don't think he's listening." She smiled.

"Umm," Mike was looking sheepish. "You won't... tell him, will you?"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," she acquiesced.

"It was an accident," he went on, trying to persuade himself more than her, "right?"

She didn't like where this was going, if that cock was going to be in her, lust had to trump guilt.

"A big, sweaty accident," she agreed. "On my whole face." She gestured to emphasize her point.

"It wasn't your whole face," he said, a little too loud.

"I'll get him back!" Pete shouted, thinking Mike was cheering him on.

Fi put her forearm over her face, pretending it was his dick. It was more than a little shocking to realise that it wasn't quite as wide over her eye, where her slender wrist sat. Mike laughed, but it was close enough to the picture burned into his brain that his dick gave a lurch.

She uncrossed her legs, but Mike didn't move his eyes from the arm. She smiled and stuck out her tongue at him.

Mike's randy, sexually malnourished mind went wild. That tongue was, as far as he was concerned, lapping at his cock. He couldn't help imagining how it would feel, and wondering how much of it she could take. Shit! How could this little bitch keep his dick so hard? She's not even that pretty!

"Boom!" In the living room, Pete broke the tension. "Headshot!"

"Jeez, he's a master of that game," Mike sighed, exasperated, "and I can't even figure out his washing machine."

"I can show you," Fi volunteered, sensing that she had lost the room. "You just turn it on and fill it up. Help me down."

"Really?" He said, struggling back to his feet, still trying to hide a large but softening boner. "That would be great. Thanks."

With her sitting on the counter, they came pretty much face to face. When Mike came to lift her, she had enough of a foothold on a drawer handle, that she managed to casually force herself higher. The intention was to give him a face full of titties, but it didn't quite work.

All Fi managed to do, with that little stunt, was to throw the big man off balance. Panicking that he might drop her painfully, he pulled her in tight. Soft, womanly flesh pressed against his chest. Their faces almost touched, but their eyes met, and they both, for a moment, saw the passion that was between them.

Mike turned his head away, otherwise he might kiss her. As he lowered her down, she felt the unmistakable pressure of his cock on her almost bare, fairly aroused pussy. He must have still been stiff as steel.

"Ooh," she cooed, "aren't you going to buy me a drink, first?" The look of embarrassment on Mike's was like nectar to Fi. She laughed like a silver bell while appreciating the fact that he didn't have much trouble holding her at that height. Possibilities.

She went over to show him the machine. Before she started to instruct him, she glanced back. That's when she noticed the wet trail on his jeans where her pussy had slid down his fat dick. Shit, she thought, that gives the game away a bit. If he touched that it would put an end to the teasing. Worse still, if Pete saw it, he might say something that would cause a problem.

Come on, Fi, she thought, you're the queen of sneaking around. What can you do?

Throw the wet boxers at him? Maybe spill her coffee on him? That would be suspicious after this morning. What if she just left it and hoped he didn't notice? He was bound to notice if she kept teasing him. She just had to hope that an opportunity would present itself.

She bent over and put her arm into the machine, checking how full it was. Not too full.

While Fi's frenzied ruminations ran through her mind, Mike was trying his damnedest not to get any more turned on. His body wasn't listening to his mind, though, and he found himself looking down at a pear shaped ass. Earlier, he had thought of it as cute. Now, sex starved as he had ever been, Mike the Machine was thinking of it as hot, and picturing how his hands would look when he held it.

He was about ready to unzip and whip his dick out, fuck it. The slut was commando, too, he was sure of it. The pink, puffy glimpses she was teasing him with were clear signals. It was obvious, wasn't it? If he was right, he could just slip a finger in right now.

Fi felt the damp t-shirt and boxers at the top of the load in the machine, wrinkling her nose. Cold and wet, fresh from the bathroom floor.

However, an idea began to form. She took a quick look behind her and sure enough, Mike was standing close behind her. Very close.

His heart was pounding, his hand was moving slowly, deliberately. It was decided. He was going to slip a finger into his buddy's girlfriend's pussy. Right here in his buddy's kitchen. She had been flashing it to him. For sure.

Or had she? Yes! Well, only one way to know. Here goes.

The moment that Fi turned, Mike's hand touched the inside of her bare thigh. It was electric, her juices flowed instantaneously. She was already in motion, though. There was no way to go back now.

Her wet hand casually touched Mike's dick. He was rock hard. Still pointing downwards in his jeans, but solid like a doorframe. She wasn't sure that the touch would be enough to justify the trail of pussy juice on his jeans. Or what she had felt just before she turned.

Damn it, he thought, she turned around just before he could find out for sure! Did she see him? He knew she was teasing him, but did she actually want it? How would he ever find out?

Damn it, she thought, if I had just stayed put for another second, he would have made his move! I was too busy trying not to look like a slut, and he was about to treat me like the slut I am!