tagErotic CouplingsMy Roommate

My Roommate

byElspethMoans©

Based on a true story...

It all started with a bet. Booze, and a little harmless flirting, and a stupid, stupid bet.

I had a feeling when I moved in it would be trouble. I like living with roommates, and I like living with guys - no passive aggressive notes, no simmering resentments, if they're pissed they'll just fucking tell you. Sure, I've had a little trouble with keeping my damn panties on, but for the most part it's worked out.

Jack was handsome though - really handsome - and just my type, with the bright blue eyes and the height and pulling up to our first hang on a motorcycle. But good news for me - he had a girlfriend, and the rent was cheap, so I figured, what could it hurt?

The first few weeks passed pretty uneventfully. We had different schedules - he was a bartender and I worked a regular ol' nine to five, so we'd just chat in the kitchen as our paths crossed, maybe watch a movie together once in a while, and he spent a fair bit of time at his girlfriend's, so everything seemed to be going well.

There was flirting, sure, but the harmless kind. One time I was about to go on a date and he told me "Damn girl, you look good. Maybe you should just stay home and I'll bone you myself." Yeah, he uses the word bone. Or the time I was working on cutting up a box for the recycling, and I made sure to bend over just right to give him a good view of my sexy bottom (it's the sexiest part of me, I think). That was when he gave me a big butt hug. Oh, we hugged a lot too, long lingering hugs or he'd hold out his arms for a monkey hug, where I'd leap into his arms and wrap my legs around his torso and - okay, maybe it wasn't entirely harmless. It felt like it at the time...

So, it was a Friday night and I'd been out with friends till the lights came up and my friendly neighborhood bar started playing the "Closing Time" song. I stumbled home and poured myself another drink, and there's Jack, coming back from his shift, looking all sexy and disheveled with his soft brown hair falling over his big blue eyes, and he said, "keeping the night going eh? Me too!" and grabbed a beer from the fridge.

We sat on opposite couches and rambled on, just nonsense. I didn't have much of a filter, what with all the booze and those weeks of mild flirtation, so I made a funny face at him and said "you're lucky I'm not on your couch, mister."

"What, you think I can't control myself?" he scoffed. "Please. I'm a master of self control."

"Yeah right," I retorted. "If I turned it on there's no way you'd turn me down." I might've hiccuped somewhere in there. I'm not proud.

"Turned it on, huh?" he said, laughing. "Trust me, you couldn't tempt me." He banged his fist into his chest. "Stone cold." I started laughing too. He gave me a sly look. "You, on the other hand..."

"What about me?"

"If I tried it on with you, you couldn't resist. I am a powerful flirt. And I've got a big dong." I choked on my gin.

"Oh please. You would just be begging for it and I'd be laughing in your face."

"I bet you wouldn't. I bet you'd pull down your panties and bend over."

"YOU WISH! You'd just be pulling out your "big dong" and making sad faces while I laugh at it."

"I have an idea. We just fucking seduce each other and see who cracks first."

"Now that - " I gestured with my drink and it sloshed onto the couch. "Is a bet I would win."

"Oh please. I would."

"GROUND RULES!" I shouted, getting into the game.

"Go."

"No kissing."

"Obviously. No grabbing my cock."

"Duh. No touching my boobs. Or my butt. Or my pussy."

"Ooh, I like how you say that word."

"I'm winning already!"

"No touching my nipples."

"Nipples? Really?"

"They're sensitive!"

"And the loser...has to wash this dirty floor. On his hands and knees. Naked."

"On HER hands and knees, you mean." He reached out his beer and clinked it against my glass. "Done."

The space between us suddenly seemed very small indeed. The room was starting to spin. "We're just joking right?" I asked.

"Of course of course dummy, I have a girlfriend and you're drunk as a skunk."

"Phew," I said.

***

The next morning I was nursing a wicked hangover and the night before was a bit of a blur. But I remembered our conversation, that's for sure, and hoped he didn't. I decided to cook up a mess of hangover food, toast and cheesy eggs and bacon. As I was standing on my tiptoes, reaching up to the ceiling rack for the frying pan, I heard him come down the stairs and felt my cheeks grow hot as he snuck up behind me. He moved in close and reached over my head to pluck the frying pan easily from its peg. He's so tall, and he smelled so deliciously manly. I turned my head to see him giving me a big, cheeky grin.

"This what you need, lady?" he asked. His arm brushed mine as he placed it on the stovetop. This close I could see the fullness of his lips, the sharpness of his cheekbones, one lock of fluffy brown hair falling over his eyes.

"Thanks," I said, in my best platonically friendly voice.

"You're so losing this bet." he crowed. I winced. I pushed past him and busied myself with eggs as he went about pouring cereal, and for a moment I thought about calling the whole thing off. But as he opened the fridge and reached for the orange juice, I rallied.

Fuck that! I can be a real sex kitten when I want to be. I'm going to WIN the damn thing.

I pulled my pajama pants down a bit, exposing my toned midriff, a tempting glimpse of the floral tattoos that snaked around my belly button. I pulled the top of my shirt down too, to expose a little more of my luscious chest. I put on my best sexy pout. He closed the fridge door and turned around.

"Want some eggs?" I purred.

"Sure," he said, unruffled. I plated the eggs and slid my torso over the kitchen table, elbows down, chin resting in my hands, so that my boobs were pushed together and up. His eyes went straight to my cleavage.

"Hope you like what you see," I said. "Eat up." His eyes slid back up to my face and did I see a hint of...worry? Yeah, he'd better be worried.

***

The next few days were a haze of sexual energy. I baked cookies and gave the spoon the best licking of its short wooden life. He took to going shirtless around the house - it was too hot, he said. I pulled my shortest short shorts out of retirement, the ones that showed a hint of buttcheek below the hem. When he had to go to his room immediately after viewing those the first time, I decided to wear them as often as possible.

Then...Wednesday happened. An ordinary morning, and I was at the sink doing the dishes, so I didn't hear him come in. I yelped a little in surprise as he put his hands on my waist. The water was still streaming over my hands as his fingers slid over my waist. "No touching," I said, annoyed at the breathless tone in my voice. 


"No touching the boobs," he said. "The butt. The pussy." Oh god, the way that word rolled off his tongue and into my ear made my insides clench and my pussy wet. "This is just your waist. No problem at all." While his right hand continued to caress my skin, sneaking up under my camisole and sneaking ever-so-close-but-not-quite to my breasts, his left slid slowing up my back and along my neck. I could feel every nerve ending along the way. "This is just your neck." he said. I could feel his smile against my ear, his breath as he traced one finger along my collarbone, my neck. His hands slid into my hair. "This is just your head. No big deal."

I took a deep breath, shut off the water, and flipped around so that I was facing him, looking up into his gently mocking face.

"Oh you think you're so good, don't you," I said.

"I am good." His hands were still on me. I slid my hands around his waist and then down around to his butt. I squeezed, pulling him towards me, feeling him all hard and ready through the thin fabric of our pajama bottoms.

"Hey now," he said, "no butts!"

"That was my rule, not yours," I murmured, kneading the hard muscle in my hands, sliding my fingers dangerous close to his balls, watching his eyelids flutter and his throat contract as he swallowed hard.

"Doesn't affect me." he said quickly, but his hips were thrusting impatiently towards me and he knew he'd lost this particular battle. He stepped back, abruptly, and my body immediately missed his touch. "Gotta go," he said, and bolted.

It was a bittersweet victory. Because for whatever reason, I started to play back that moment in my head. On the bus, at my desk at work, in yoga class, even when I was masturbating my mind would drift to his breath in my ear, his finger delicately tracing my neck, the way he thrust his hips against me, his cock so clearly outlined by his pajama bottoms. Yeah, it was a big dong all right.

***

We didn't see each other much for a few days after that, and I wondered if he'd conceded. Those hopes were firmly squashed when I came downstairs one Sunday morning to find him standing in the kitchen waiting for me, stark naked.

I couldn't stop staring at his cock. It was rock hard and beautifully thick and he was slowing stroking it back and forth and -

"What the fuck is this?" I said.

"Oh nothing. I just felt like a change of scenery while I knocked one out. Has nothing to do with you, dummy."

There were a lot of things I could've done at that moment. I could have gone right back upstairs. I could've started making disparaging (if entirely untrue) remarks and killed his boner. I could've done what I really wanted to do, which was drop to my knees and take that beautiful beast in my mouth.

Instead, holding eye contact, I yanked my shorts down to the floor.

"What the fuck - "

"Maybe I need a change of scenery too," I said, cool as a cucumber, as my fingers slipped between my pussy lips.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck no," he gasped.

"Oh, you can't handle it? You can't handle how much you want to fuck me?"

"Oh I can handle it," he growled. His cock stroking intensified. I licked my lips and slid my fingers up to my clit. 


"You can't win this bet, you little tease," he said. He was five feet away and all I wanted to do was close that gap, but instead I rubbed my clit faster. I let my eyes drift closed and imagined his cock buried deep inside me as the orgasm ramped up.

"You're imagining me fucking you, aren't you?" he asked.

"I forgot you were even here," I replied.

"Oh you little bitch," he groaned, then shouted as he came. I heard the splatter of his cum and fell back against the kitchen counter, rubbing my sweet little pussy until I came myself, all over my fingers. Gasping, I opened my eyes. He was staring at me and, as if on cue, we both burst out laughing. At the absurdity of the situation, at the relief of the release. When the laughter had subsided the embarrassment began. I didn't know what to say, where to look.

So I said, "I need to go," and I fled.

***

The next day was rough. I had been passed over for a promotion, and then my mom called to let me know our family dog had died. I had just poured myself a glass of wine and settled in to watch shitty TV and feel sorry for myself when I heard the door jiggle. Dammit, just what I need.

"Welcome home," I muttered, taking a swig.

"What's wrong?" he asked, taking in my red and swollen eyes, the bottle of wine on the coffee table.

"Nothing," I said. "Go away."

He plopped down on the couch beside me. "Talk to me."

"I can't play this game right now," I said. "I really can't."

"No game," he promised. He gently pulled me closer to him, so that my head was resting on his chest. He ran his hands through my hair comfortingly, and we talked, real talk, about life, work, the inevitability of death, and his heart beat reassuringly under my ear, and we didn't tease each other at all.


But that night, after we'd said our goodnights and shared a tender, G-rated hug, and I was safely in my room with my vibrator pressed against my clit, my mind wandered to one of my favorite fantasies these days...him sneaking into my room, crawling under the covers with me, his hands in all the forbidden places, his big cock pushing into my pussy...but now, in my fantasy, he was whispering into my ear not just "I want to fuck you" but "I want to be with you," "I want to hold you," even "I love you."

Well, this is swell. I'm in love with my roommate.

***

Another few days passed. He spent a lot of time with his girlfriend. I went on the dating apps and frantically swiped, trying to find someone, anyone to get him off my mind.

I was in the middle of a cold shower, trying to talk myself out of this nonsense, when I heard the front door open. I hurriedly got out and wrapped the towel around my wet body, but as I stepped into my room he had already reached the top of the stairs. "Hey," he said, and I turned around.

He was a little sweaty from riding his motorcycle. His hair was mussed. His lips were slightly parted. I saw chest hair peeking out of his halfway unbuttoned shirt. I felt such intense longing I thought I might combust. So I made a decision. I dropped my towel.

He didn't say anything, just took a step towards me and unbuckled his belt.

I took a step back, into my room. He took a step forward, and his shirt came off. All the time we stared at each other. I don't know whether we didn't know what to say, or if no words were necessary. By the time he was naked I was at the foot of my bed. My feet caught the footboard and I tumbled onto my back.

He leaned over me, so close, I could smell him, could feel the heat from his body on my soft skin. He gently took my wrists in his left hand and pinned them above my head. He allowed his furry chest to press against mine, and I felt the tip of his hard cock straining against my soaking wet pussy. He traced my face with his right hand, his fingers sliding over my cheeks, my lips. He leaned in and whispered in my ear, "I give in." I nearly sobbed in relief. "So do I," I gasped. "So do I."

Fuck, there is nothing more sensual, more erotic, than feeling a man's tongue slide into your mouth and his cock slide into your pussy at the same time, for the first time. Our mouths and tongues were eagerly licking, sucking, as he pulled out and slammed back in, again and again, making me moan every time. He released my hands and they were all over him. We were so hungry for each other, for finally being able to touch, to rub, to consume. He pulled and tugged at my nipples, then bent those delicious lips down to suck at them. I clutched at his head, his chest, his ass, feeling his buttocks clench as he fucked me harder and harder.

"I want to make you cum," he groaned, sliding two fingers into my mouth and then pushing them against my clit. The combination of his hard cock inside my pussy and his talented fingers on me made me come fast, and hard. The sound of my orgasm, the way my pussy squeezed his cock when I came, must've sent him over the edge, because with a shout he was filling me with cum, short hard thrusts that rocked the bed and made the headboard slam against the wall.

For a while we lay there, sweaty and out of breath, my hands pulling idly at his nipples, his fingers tracing circles on my belly.

"I'm a little in love with you," he said at last.

"I'm a little in love with you too." I said. And with a start - "But what the fuck! You have a - "

"Not anymore. We broke up a few days ago. I just didn't know how to tell you without it seeming like part of the game." 


"The game that I won, by the way." He squeezed my nose.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

***

Fast forward a few weeks to this morning, when I was on my hands and knees, scrubbing the floor, naked, while Jack watched. Every once in a while he'd give me a little spank, or slide his fingers underneath me to play with my pussy and make me writhe, or kneel on the floor to stick his cock into my eager mouth. I didn't mind. I was looking forward to tomorrow... when he'd be the one on the floor.

We do like our little games, my boyfriend and I.

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