My New Roommate

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Looks can be deceiving.
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It had to be a mistake of the college. No way was I supposed to be rooming with this dumpy looking girl, jeans so tight an unsightly mound of flab hung over the top, sweaty underarms that wobbled when she walked. She bumbled into the room, her shoulder bag knocking one of my soccer trophies off the dresser.

"Oh, sorry!" she gushed, her frizzy flaming red hair flailing around her head like Medusa's snakes. I sighed, trying not to let my overwhelming judgemental side take over. It must have been a mistake. She obviously couldn't have gotten into this uni, or this dorm, so I breathed a sigh of relief knowing it was probably only going to be for a few days at the very most. And, I was pretty sure I was supposed to be rooming with a dude.

She plonked herself on the bed on the other side of the room. Her eyes darted around the room, scrutinising it. They narrowed slightly as she took in my Chelsea paraphernalia thrown everywhere, but as it was on my side she technically couldn't say anything.

"I'm Sam," I said, getting up off my bed and approaching her cautiously as though she was a wild animal about to pounce.

"Kayley," she replied, holding her hand out to me. I was surprised at how firm she grasped my hand, almost breaking it to be honest, but my inner macho would not be undone and I grimaced through the pain trying to pretend I was smiling.

"What brings you here?" I asked in distraction as I was rubbing my hand.

"Same as you," she said, looking confused. "To learn."

"I meant, what are you studying?"

"Politics," she replied. Great, as well as being unpleasant on the eyes she was also going to be boring. These next few days were going to be hard. Maybe a fit bird would be living next door. With that cheery thought in mind I flopped back onto my bed, opening up my laptop to scour Facebook.

Kayley was starting to unpack her things. I tried not to watch, but my human curiosity got the better of me. Of course, I didn't let her see me looking, I was ever so discreet over the top of my laptop.

Jeans folded into the bottom drawer, coats and tops hung up, a ridiculous amount of bottles filled with goopy looking creams littered her side of the chest of drawers. On one of my more discreet looks I saw the unmistakeable outline of a vibrator.

Geez! Hope she didn't use that when I was in the room. What happened to the good old hand? Since when did women need some battery operated device that made every guy in vicinity feel inferior? Me included as I eyed the outline of it. It was fucking huge. I doubt even those magical pump things porn sites advertise would add enough inches to my manhood to even compete.

She glanced at it quickly, glanced at me where I looked back at the screen quickly and a small smile played about her lips. She'd obviously seen me looking. Thank God she didn't say anything though, just put it in the bottom drawer of her bedside table and continued to unpack.

A large stack of books on the desk, photo frames up, many of multiple guys hugging her intimately. In a second bag she zipped open the end pocket and started pulling out her underwear, placing it in the top drawer. I was surprised to see it was all frilly and lacy, no granny panties in sight. Then she withdrew the unmistakable scrap material I had only seen in movies; a garter belt.

I must be living with a prostitute; that was my only logical explanation. Otherwise what would she be doing with a garter belt? I had only ever seen sexy women in black lingerie wearing them in movies and porn. And this woman was no movie or porn star. Bewildered, I waited for more obscure items to reveal themselves, but she had finished packing and flopped down on the bed, popping headphones in.

I turned my gaze back to my computer, trying to concentrate on the Facebook conversation with one of my friends back home.

I could hear the faint static music emanating, it sounded like Chris Isaak. Her hands rested on her flabby stomach, one finger bouncing with the beat, eyes closed. After five minutes the finger stopped, and five minutes after that a faint snore escaped the lump.

It was getting late, I guess. I had my first class of the day tomorrow morning at nine, so I closed down the computer, put my own headphones in, turning up JJ Cale and switched off the light.

Kayley was already awake when I woke the next day. I had actually woken up to her knocking something over again and her hushed "sorry" as she replaced whatever it was. It was blurry when I opened my eyes, so reached for my glasses, the room coming into focus after I slipped them on. I'm not that blind, it's just a little hard to make out features without them. They're nice, stylish ones though, so I look like one of those hipsters who button their shirts all the way to the top and wear jeans that are too short.

Kayley was wrapped in a towel, obviously about to go to the shower. She was rummaging around in her underwear drawer and I tried not to look what panties she chose. Why would I want to think about her and her panties? She was so not my type.

She still seemed to think I was asleep as she was trying to be quiet about opening and shutting the creaky drawers. The towel didn't seem to fit all the way around her, and when she crouched down to pick up something the towel slipped right off her thigh. I tried to be disgusted by the bumps and lumps of her cellulite, but all I could think about was what it would feel like under my hand. That was just my human curiosity though. And that was just my morning erection, nothing more. Whatsoever.

I had to deal with it though, and quickly. Surely she would be in the shower for at least ten minutes. Girls like long showers, right? As Kayley went out of the room for the showers down the hall I slipped my hand under my boxers. My hand slid up and down, faster and faster, and I desperately tried not to think about Kayley's garter belt. I'm sure it would look disgusting on her, with all her flab hanging over the top. Urgh.

The door opened. I got such a fright I nearly spasmed out of control. I tried in vain to push my cock down and cover it up with the blankets, but Kayley's gaze was fierce. My face was on fire and I refused to look up.

"I forgot my bra," she said. "Sorry for interrupting."

I was mortified. The least she could have done was pretend she hadn't seen anything. That would have been the courteous thing to do.

"By all means, carry on," she said, making her way back over to her drawers and pulling out a black lacy bra with cups big enough they would fit over my head. She held it up, looking at it, seeming to think hard about something. After about a minute (in which my cock continued to stay hard no matter how much I tried to think about the time I stepped in dog poo), she slowly placed the bra back and sat down on the bed, facing me. We looked at each other for what felt like forever. I tried to remove my hand from my dick without her seeing, but the slightest twitch had her glance down.

"Aren't you going to finish?" she asked.

"Aren't you going to leave the room?" I asked her, perplexed at what she was still doing there.

"Can't I watch?"

"Excuse me?!" I spluttered. Had she really just asked whether she could stay and watch me jack off? This girl was weird. I'm not sure I liked weird. Annoyingly however my cock seemed to like weird as it pulsed a little in my hand at her request. Kayley seemed puzzled by my outburst, her brows scrunching together, her frizzy hair cascading to her shoulders, brushing the top of the towel.

"I'll let you watch me," she said, almost smirking. I couldn't do anymore other than sit there, looking at her. I didn't know what to say. I had never seen a girl pleasure herself before, apart from porn, and one side of me was undeniably curious. But I was embarrassed. What would she think of the size of my dick? It wasn't anywhere near her vibrator size. And what if I was too quick? Would she know? When she'd first walked in she didn't seem the type to have much experience. But after seeing her lacy stash and the multiple photos around the room I was beginning to think otherwise.

"Alright, you pussy," she finally exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "We'll do it together." And with that she threw off her towel, laid back on her bed and bent her knees slightly. I think my mouth fell open, but I'm not sure as I was in such a state of shock - whether it was good or bad shock I couldn't tell you.

The sight of a naked female just inches away had my cock jumping to attention, straining against my hand. I could only watch.

Kayley moved one arm behind her head, fingers gripping the headboard. She closed her eyes and I held my breath she moved her other hand slowly down her body. Her fingers pinched her nipple, the thick pink pea ripening under the touch. She pushed her breast up and down slowly, slight ripples making the creamy skin gleaming. Her hand continued down and even though I couldn't see, I heard her sharp intake of air when her fingers made contact.

Her bent knees meant I couldn't see what her hand was doing, but each small moan she released had me guessing it was something right. Her back arched, and the once grotesque muffin top slid into the glorious proportions of her body. All I could think about was holding on to her voluptuous hips as I thrust hard into her. Her lumpy thighs jiggled and shimmered with every movement of her hand and became tell-tale signs as to when she was getting close.

I was absentmindedly stroking myself, not realising how close I was until I came suddenly, taking both myself and Kayley by surprise. Her eyes opened at my small cry of outburst and she smiled.

I tried to wipe myself before she noticed, but when I looked up she was staring me dead in the eye. And continued to do so while her fingers kept moving. I sat up properly and looked back at her. I desperately wanted to go over there and touch her, touch every inch of her, but wasn't sure how she would react. I saw her arm start to move a bit faster, the muscles underneath moving with each motion. Her right hand gripped the headboard even tighter, knuckles whitening. Her back arched again, pushing her delicious breasts up, taut nipples piercing the air. And still she held my gaze.

Only for a brief second when her body started shuddering and her head went back did she close her eyes. And when she opened them again there was a completely new look within the depths of her pupils, something I had never seen in any of the girls I'd slept with. Damn.

She let out a soft sigh, seeming to relax into the bed.

"Well that was fun," she said softly, turning her head to grin at me. "I should go shower now."

Wrapping the towel back around her was like wrapping up a Christmas present. I couldn't believe I was sorry to see her body disappear. She scooped up her clothes, bra included, and stood up, walking over to my bed.

Without saying a word she placed one hand under my chin, tilted my head up and placed a soft kiss on my lips. Her lips were deliciously warm, as though they'd been soaking up the sun rays and I didn't hesitate as my lips moulded themselves around hers. She broke away and as I went in for another kiss she had already started walking away, out the door.

Fucking hell.

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4 Comments
bottovarnisbottovarnisover 2 years ago

terrific and pretty unique. most of the storied women are better than average or average body types. Enjoyed the more realistic feel of the yarn. I'd like a sequel! Thank you.

AnonymousAnonymousover 7 years ago
Very nice...

I agree, you gave us enough information about the characters to get us engaged, but did so quickly, and kept my rapt attention right. Very nicely done. Thank you.

WatcherRobWatcherRobover 7 years ago
I agree

Anonymous said it exactly.

AnonymousAnonymousover 7 years ago
Intriguing little story

I really liked it. You give us two realistic characters in an only slightly off-kilter situation. Kayley is interesting: dumpy and clumsy but at the same time sexy and confident. On the other hand, Sam, the soccer star, is the one who can't quite make heads or tails of what is going on. The way you just jumped into the story and felt no need to provide any backstory contributed to the charm. Good work. Thanks.

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