My Big Titty Goth Roommate Ch. 04

It was bad.

No, it was worse than that.

It was real bad.

"Jack for breakfast, how original." I should have kept it to myself, but it'd been a month of the same and I couldn't help it.

"Oh look, a giant fucking dork with a mommy complex, how original," Alice shot back, cradling her half-empty bottle of bourbon.

I let the quip slide. It hadn't been worth picking fights with her for several weeks already.

"You gonna put some pants on today, chief?" I asked. I paid for the mistake instantly.

"Chief? Fucking CHIEF? What am I, your brother? Call me fucking chief again and see what happens you gigantic fucking...dork!" She spat viperously from our living room sofa.

"You already called me a dork," I pointed out, rifling through the fridge for something to take to work.

"Shut up," she replied sullenly. I busied myself with making a terrible little sandwich with my back turned to her. Abruptly, a wadded-up sock hit me squarely in the back of the head.

I took a breath to steady myself, not daring to turn towards her. "Do you need something?"

She said nothing. I could feel her eyes burrowing drunkenly into my back. Her other sock sailed past my head and careened off the microwave. She was obviously trying to bait my attention. It would have been a little pathetic if it wasn't so cute.

I turned to look.

"Eat my pussy? Please?" She put on a needy little pout and beat her mascara-laden eyelashes dramatically. I blinked away my patient disbelief at her swinging mood.

"I thought I was a dork?"

"You are!" She returned playfully with a small hiccup.

"You want a dork going down on you?"

"You were still a dork last night and that didn't stop you!"

"You pulled your pants down and sat on my face while I was sleeping in my own bed, that's not the same thing; you can't plant your ass on someone's face and say they 'went down on you.'"

She blinked at me in slow-dawning comprehension. "Yeah, well...you still did it! I felt some tongue down there!"

I sighed softly and returned to my turkey BLT, pursing my lips to keep myself silent as I heard Alice tip the 40 to her lips again. Unemployment definitely did not suit her.

It had been the same all month. The pouty fits, the misdirected bratty insolence, the little tantrums over nothing that resulted in slammed doors and blaring death metal. I don't even think she'd tugged so much as a pair of sweatpants over her fat, pale ass in the last two weeks. I knew that bartending had been a good gig for her, but I didn't expect her to take it so hard when the well dried up.

That said, the sex was still...unhinged.

"I'm thinking of going out with the guys after work," I announced into the pregnant quiet of the room while stuffing my sandwich into a baggie. Alice said nothing. "Did you hear me? I might be late getting..."

The face that I turned back to was abject misery.

"Alice, it's not..."

"You hate me!" she accused.

"You know I don't."

"You're embarrassed of me!"

"Not in the slightest."

"Well! You- why won't you come home to me then?"

"It's just a few beers after work; it's not like I'm moving out."

"Moving out! Why would you even say that?"

"Al, come on," I plead, running low on patience for these uncharacteristic outbursts. For a woman ten years my senior, this was all starting to feel a little childish.

"I hate when you call me 'Al', it makes me feel like a trucker," she pouted.

"A trucker? I mean, you do love to carry my loads." The joke was corny, but they usually worked. A small grin that she fought to conceal told me I'd succeeded. "What? Did I say something?"

"Shut up," she said, clutching a pillow to her heavy chest. "You're stupid."

"Yeah," I sighed affectionately, "I guess I am."

The whiskey-glazed look she gave me was enough to convince me she'd be okay as long as I kept coming home to her.

"But no girls!" she spat abruptly as I collected my bag to leave.

"Eh?"

"No girls, got it? Or I'll go out and meet some...some boys!"

"Some boys? What are you, twelve?" I laughed, leaning over to give her a kiss before I left. The fumes of her breath could have stripped paint off a lead boiler.

"Try twice that," she laughed, turning her face up to meet me.

"Try almost three times that; you're terrible at math," I laughed as I pecked her forehead.

"Oh. Right," she said sheepishly. "But I could though."

I scooped my keys off the stand by the door, not willing to let myself walk into another nothing-tiff. "Could what?"

"Meet someone."

It wasn't bait. I didn't think it was anyway. She'd been fragile since losing her job, which felt wrong on someone like her. This was just another part of her midlife crisis, part of the coping. "I suppose you could, if you wanted." It stung to hear, but she didn't mean it. It was just the truth.

She didn't like the answer but bit back a retort in favor of more self-deprecation. "Ah well, who'd have me, hey? Imagine, a washed-up goth-turned-housewife. Ha! Wouldn't that be something!"

I offered a flat smile, trying to force some sincerity into it. "Yeah. Yeah, wouldn't that be something? Hey, I'll see you around 9:00, alright? Be good, I'll see you later."

"Be good," she whispered back hazily. I closed the door softly behind me, hoping to God she wouldn't burn the place down while I was gone.

*******

"How 'bout you, Dan? Anyone at home for you?" Derek was a partner, which meant I had to treat his ass to a little pucker and smooch from time to time. Nobody liked drinks with the bosses around, but he'd followed us in like a lost puppy.

"Eh? Oh...uh, kinda. Not really. She's- it's not really like that." I muttered, not wanting to explain Alice and I. What was I gonna say? Oh yeah man, I've been living in a domestic partnership with a woman in her mid-thirties who treats me like Freud says all good boys want to be treated. Oh, and she's taller than I am and her favorite things are the color black, shitty horror movies, and creampies. "It's a little complicated."

Derek clapped a hand across my shoulders in commiseration for my perceived misery. "Ah shit, sorry kid. Sometimes you just gotta know when to fold 'em, eh?" A few of the other guys at the booth nodded sympathetically.

"Uh, yeah. I guess."

"Hey, you know what? Next round's on me!" What do you say, kid? You got another one in ya?"

I briefly considered staying; free beer always tastes better. "Nah, I better not. I should be getting home."

A round of humms and hahs resounded around the table, as though I'd spoken some mystical passphrase. "I get it," Derek said over eagerly, "the old ball and chain, huh? We've all been there, hey lads? Go on then, get yourself home to the missus then."

I shrugged into my jacket and ducked out. The others could bask in the boss man's radiance for the rest of the night without me; I had someone at home who needed me.

*******

I braced as I pushed through the door, half afraid of what mess I'd find.

"Oh shit! Fuck! You're early!" Alice called from down the hall on my right. The smell of something savory wafted toward me from the kitchen. The candlelit kitchen, I realized with a start. Had she set our table? I didn't even know we owned a tablecloth between us.

"Yeah I, uh, I dipped out," I replied in confusion as Alice cursed loudly from the washroom, having dropped something heavy-sounding. "What's...what's going on here?"

My heart nearly stopped at the sight of what walked down the hall at me.

"Nothing much, just a little something I put together," Alice remarked. Eschewing her usual all-black evening wear for a decidedly vintage-looking red dress speckled in white polka dots, she'd gone to some effort to blush a bit of color into her otherwise pale cheeks. The red lipstick, in place of her usual black, convinced me thoroughly that she'd lost her mind. She looked for all the world like a 50's housewife. "What do you think?" she asked with a twirl.

I dropped my bag to the floor and kicked my shoes off robotically. Stunning though she was, the abrupt departure from her drunken couch potato routine was cause for concern. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

Alice laughed melodically, further confusing the hell out of me. The mounting concern that she'd lost the tug of war with her mental health and my blossoming inability to keep my eyes off her plunging neckline made the situation a delicate one.

"No silly! I just...well, come in first, let me take your jacket!"

How could I refuse?

"Go on," she urged as she closed the closet door, "why don't you take a seat and I'll fix you a drink?"

"Yeah, yeah sure," I muttered. The place was immaculate, and smelled of home-cooked meals and lemon Pledge. "You cleaned."

"Oh, yeah," she said, as though to downplay the obvious effort she'd put in. "I just straightened up a little. Rye or bourbon?" She held the options up playfully for my consideration. The horrorshow patchwork of gothic tattoos she'd collected over the years made her trad wife cosplay somewhat ironic, but it was cute nonetheless. It was really cute.

"Whichever, as long as you'll join me," I replied. She nodded in agreement and got to work.

"Dinner won't be ready for a bit," Alice said as she poured. "I figured you'd be out longer."

"Sorry," I said, taking the offered glass with a smile in thanks. "I should have texted."

She settled down across from me, looking like at least a million bucks. It felt very Mad Men or something. Very domestic.

I took a long sip, and stared at the tablecloth, reluctant to look her in the eye. "What is this, Alice? Are you...doing alright?"

She sighed heavily. It wasn't frustration, but rather the exasperated huff of someone caught out in a fib. I looked up in time to catch a small smirk. "I'm working on it."

I nodded. "And is it going well?"

She barked a laugh, looking away and waving her hand dismissively. "Not really. But I thought I'd do a lot better with some human clothes on at the very least."

I laughed. "Does this mean you showered?"

She returned my mirth with a chuckle of her own. "Yes, I even showered."

"And all...this," I said, drawing a hand up and down in the air to take her entire ensemble in, "this is all new?"

"You like it?" she asked, biting something like an embarrassed grin back. The pursed set of her ruby-red lips was demure in a way that Alice rarely was.

I blinked a few mental snapshots. She looked heavenly. "I really do."

She hid her grin in a long pull from her glass as a timer announced dinner's completion. "Oh! It's ready! Stay put, I'll fix everything."

Fix it she did; a plate of food good enough to feature on the cover of Good Housekeeping told me that Alice had been busy in the kitchen for hours at least. We passed the meal in idle chit-chat, our moods buoyed by an hour of gentle ribbing and playful flirting. It was all nearly enough to make me forget the hole that my roommate had tripped herself into.

"You're so stupid," she laughed. "There's no such thing as a house hippo!"

"I mean, why did they make a commercial about them then?"

She rolled her eyes and shoved her plate aside with a chuckle. There was a finality in her action that promised an end to our distracting interlude. She had something on her mind.

"Out with it then," I said.

She smirked at the callout. "Am I that obvious?"

I nodded.

"Blegh, fine. It's weird, maybe. Well...maybe. I don't know. Fuck."

"Last week you shaved your pubes into a mustache, drew eyes overtop, and made me 'kiss Mr. Munchkin', so I don't think this is likely to be any worse."

Alice snorted loudly. "Yeah, I guess I did. He said you were a very good kisser, by the way."

"I bet he did. So, come on then; what's up?"

She drew a deep breath. "I need...something. Structure. Or like, I don't know- rules. I guess? Something that I know just works. Like something where I know what my place is, and where I fit into it, you know?"

I did not, in fact, know. "Alice, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"I don't know- purpose, I guess!"

"You have purp...wait, do we need to call a hotline here or something?"

"No, listen! I can't just sit around all day doing whatever I want, laying around, being a general fucking bum. I need something that will ground me a little bit. I need rules. I need...I need you to use me."

I heard the words, but couldn't force myself to really take them in. This wasn't how we worked. It never had been. "What?"

She placed her hands on the tabletop and squared her shoulders; this was the part of the conversation she'd obviously planned out in more detail. "Have you heard of freeuse before?"

I nodded. Who hadn't?

"Well, that's what I need from you. I know I've been very...comfortable with the way that I treat your body, but I need that back from you now."

"You want me to...use your body?"

She smiled and nodded emphatically. "Mhm! However you want, and whenever too. And wherever, within reason I guess. Oh and I guess I'll need some warning if you want my ass, but we can figure that out. Talking about anal prep isn't exactly sexy."

It was an effort to take this all in. "Uh. Yeah. Yeah, okay. Umm- what else is there? Like... rules-wise?"

"Nothing really. And we can totally set some up as we go; a big part of this is finding someone that you trust to take good care of you, and respect you, and read you well."

"Respect you, yeah. Sure."

"So, uh," she offered a hand toward me as though to hand something unseen across the table to me. "Respectfully, I'd like it if you can just use me as a fleshlight whenever you want. Got it?"

I nodded dumbly. This was a surreal conversation to be having with a woman who, just that morning, was on the brink of a complete breakdown. I couldn't even begin to wrestle with my trepidation at the thought of just taking Alice; as the more dominant between us, it had always been her place to initiate our fun. How was I ever going to get around to the idea of taking her, let alone without pretense?

"Okay. Good. That's...that's settled then." She rose from the table with a smile that was equal parts relief and self-satisfaction, even offering an uncharacteristically girlish laugh as she caught my eye while collecting the dirty dishes.

I watched her quietly from the table, letting the candle sputter away while I nursed the warming dregs of my Old Fashioned. The way that she moved, swayed, and stepped around the kitchen felt healthier than the Alice I'd left behind when I went to work in the morning, as though the stress of her mounting unease had been entirely undone. Watching her there, humming away while she snapped Tupperware lids onto leftovers, I realized that I might be forgetting something.

"So hey," I began, sounding like a first-rate idiot, "Did we...did we 'start' already?"

She laughed, back turned as she toweled off a baking dish. "Yes, dummy," she chuckled, giving me a look over her shoulder, "we started."

"Cool. Cool, cool, cool." I said. I still didn't really know what that meant.

Yes, I did.

Drawing a deep breath, I pushed myself back from the table with more confidence than I was really feeling in the moment. Whether Alice knew my aims or merely hoped she'd read me correctly, she carried on pretending to scrub the dirty pot in her hands. Rounding the kitchen island and undoing my belt noisily, I could have sworn that the pendulum's swing of her wide hips picked up markedly with each fresh swipe of Alice's sponge. Fishing my cock forward from my trousers, I very nearly let my nerves get the better of me. Fucking her over the kitchen counter was nothing new to me, but just walking up behind her and pumping into her started to sound like a bridge too far. The stiff meat in my hand disagreed.

Surely I needed to say something though. "I'm gonna, uh-"

Alice spun abruptly, soapy water flinging from her fingertips as she pressed one hard against my lips. With her eyes closed as though explaining why the sky was blue to a toddler, she whispered "Just don't...don't ask permission, okay?"

"Okay," I muttered around the finger at my lips.

As tall as Alice was, at least my own height on a good day, it was hardly any effort to get my hands around her ass and heft her up to sit at the edge of the counter. I'd never embarrass myself by trying to carry her around, but the gentle encouragement to get her where I needed her was manageable.

"Oh," she said in mock delight, "what's this now?"

"You better not be wearing panties," I replied.

With a throaty laugh and a playful tug at her skirt's hem, Alice spread her tattooed legs wide to reveal her immaculately trimmed lips. "You like?" she asked.

Hungrily, I leaned in for a kiss; while she did, happily, kiss back, I wondered briefly if her vision of freeuse included these more intimate details still. "Can I kiss you?" I asked breathily. Another deep laugh and a tongue in my mouth supplied her answer.

Burying my face in her neck and my cock deep in her heavenly pussy, I wrapped a handful of myself up in Alice's hair and greedily fucked into her. In reflection, I'd claim that my selfish and artless thrusts were in the spirit of the game, that I was taking her in the way she wanted. In truth, the horrorshow pinup LARP had gotten to me at my core, and I was desperate to fill her as soon as I could.

"Baby...boy!" she huffed in my ear as the cool plastic disc of the gauge in her lobe tickled my cheek. "Ugh, god. Someone's a little needy tonight. You just...fuck! You just cum whenever you need to, alr- AH!"

Alice exclaimed loudly as I tugged her head back and drove myself into her, my knees slamming off the cupboard doors and causing the cutlery to clatter in their drawers. I ground my clenched brow into her shoulder, knowing that the minute and a half of effort was unlikely to get her across the finish line. Then again, she never said that I had to make her cum too.

"Fuck!" I growled wrapping my arms around her lower back and pulling myself into her in a tight embrace, my cock twitching its spasmodic eruption into her as she panted at the ceiling. Bumping the last few jerking tremors into her, I finally let go of her hair and slid out of her with a wet smack.

"Good?" I asked

"Mhm," she nodded with a tight little smirking smile.

"Right then," I said, still catching my breath. "I'll, uh...I'm gonna jump in the shower."

"Perfect," she replied as she slipped off the ledge and tugged her dress back into place. "I'll finish cleaning up here then." She leaned in to plant a peck on my cheek and patted my hip dismissively; my purpose had been served here, and she was well and truly happy to go on as she had been.

This was going to take some getting used to.

*******

I did though, as it turns out. It got easier with each passing day.

"Anything good on?" Alice asked as she stepped out into the living room after what she liked to call a 'supper nap.'

"Hey? Oh, nah. Not really."

"Lame," she announced, padding by in a pair of plain cotton panties and a tank top. "Not going out tonight?"

"I'm honestly beat, I just kinda wanna stay in and relax, you know?"

"I get that," she said, offering a soda she'd retrieved for me from the fridge. "Here you go."

I took the can with thanks, setting it down without opening it. Alice had fallen into a few overly gracious habits since our new arrangement had kicked off, most of which revolved around waiting on me hand and foot.

"Can I lay on you?" she asked.

I scooted over so she could curl up comfortably with her head in my lap, her satisfied little wiggle confirming her content comfort.

"Have you seen this?" I asked, scrolling idly through Netflix.

"Uh uh."

I hit play and we watched on as Johnny Depp was hired to find a book purportedly written by the devil himself. It was okay, if somewhat dated, and my mind began to wander to stranger lands in time. My hand, eager for something warm and meaty to hold, began to amble casually over and across the expanse of inked flesh at my disposal. The undies were in my way, so I helped myself under the thin elastic band as Alice shifted her hips to offer me more to hold.