Old Roomates, New Surprises Ch. 03

This time around I had the help of an excellent editor I paired with through the program here on Literotica. Hopefully his efforts are reflected in the quality of the story. I am very grateful that he came in and dealt with my ham-fisted attempt at writing. Feel free to comment, I encourage it. Thank you for taking the time to read my little stories and enjoy.

The following week was hectic, to say the least. From the word go, I was bombarded with work. Any situation you could think of, I had to deal with it: projects going over deadlines, ten-to- twelve-hour workdays, meetings, conferences... it should go without saying that I was distracted and tired almost all the time. Factor in showering, sleeping, and eating, and I had zero time to dedicate to myself, let alone anyone else. My job had run me completely ragged.

Fortunately, my home life seemed to weather that storm. I hadn't had the time or energy to pay much attention, but in the few hours a day I'd been both at home and awake, I hadn't noticed anything too out of the ordinary. Monday night was the only bout of weirdness between Heather and I. She'd seemed, not wary, but avoidant. How could I have blamed her? My guess was that she was dealing with our "run-in" and our subsequent talk in her own mind as well, and didn't want to address it head-on just then. Mercifully, that had been short-lived, and the little we'd seen of each other at night had become more like we had been before the incident. By Thursday night, we'd been back to our best-friend behavior: joking, messing around, and just enjoying each other's company.

I had noticed two more things of note throughout that week. One had been the amount of time I'd seen Heather home. She worked nights as a hostess at a fairly popular local steakhouse. Nights were where the money was made, but during that week, I'd seen her at the house every night. That place was usually packed from lunch to dinner, though, so I hadn't become too concerned -- as if I'd have even had the energy. Still, I think I would've remembered if she'd mentioned a shift change, and I don't think she had. The second thing I'd noticed had been, simply, her. Heather would be cleaning, cooking, or stretching before a quick nightly jog around the neighborhood, and I couldn't help but notice her -- not in a creepy way... well, I HOPE not in a creepy way. She'd just felt more present in my life. Her mere presence had taken so much more of my attention that week, and with how little I'd had to spare in the first place, I'd noticed myself noticing. I will admit I was checking her out more, too. Something had switched in my brain since her confession of feelings for me, and I'd begun perceiving her more as a beautiful woman sharing my home, not just a friend. My wild fantasies didn't hurt either.

Heather would be gearing up for a run in her leggings and sports bra, an outfit I had seen a million times before, and it would just hit differently. I'd notice her curves, the graceful lines of her neck when her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, the way the leggings clinged to her well-defined thighs, and the hard, flat planes of her stomach. It wasn't just the visuals, either. The scent of her hair after a shower would linger, and I'd find myself savoring the scent. Even beyond the mere physical, her hard work to keep the house in order while I was making a mess of things trying to meet work demands made me feel things I'd never felt before, even though she'd always helped out.

Okay, though, fine: the visuals were pretty important. Above all else, I'd noticed the smile she would wear during the brief moments we'd gotten to spend together. Man, that smile... that smile had made everything feel worth it. I found myself at work thinking about coming home just to talk with Heather and see her smile at me.

The weekend couldn't have come fast enough, in my opinion. Of course I'd needed the time to recover from the work week, but I'd known that I also needed time to get my head together and have another serious sit-down with Heather. I was coming around to the fact that I was unobservant, pigheaded, and a general idiot about my feelings for her. Waiting an entire week hadn't been the best move, but I couldn't see any way to fix that, or to have avoided it in the first place. Time was a commodity I was running low on those days. I'd known that waiting any longer than I already had, however, would make things worse.

I wasn't the best at expressing myself, especially where real feelings were concerned. There may be deep seated rejection issues (who knows?), but I'd known that I needed to take the leap before all hope was lost. I'd needed to seal the deal as, I guess, my mother had said to Heather on more than one occasion.

Friday Night

Friday night had finally arrived -- though of course not soon enough. I had worked overtime yet again, and was finally walking in my front entryway a little after 8PM. Exhaustion hung on me like weights from every limb, but I was nevertheless confident that my bed and some sleep-in time the next morning would do the trick. I was also grateful that I wasn't on salary; overtime earned me overtime. On the other hand, while a bit of extra money is nice, time isn't something you can buy back later when you are done with work. I thought then, and still think now, that my time is much more valuable than time and a half pay

taxed at a higher rate.

As I passed through my front door, I was welcomed home by blaring music and the scent of cooking food. I turned the corner in the kitchen and spied Heather dancing in front of the stove, left hand raised in the air, the other holding a wooden spoon, working actively at the pan in front of her -- all while bouncing up and down to the back beat. In an old band t-shirt and a pair of red and black gingham house pants dancing up a storm to some late 90's rock music while focused very intently on the food in front of her. The music was up so loud that I didn't think she had the slightest idea I had come home, so I made no real attempt at stealth. I set my things on the side table at the entrance to the kitchen and slowly walked up behind her. Okay, so I was being a little stealthy; I'd made a split-second decision that I didn't want her to notice me. When I was right behind her, I reached both hands out, clawlike, on either side of her ribcage. You know the spot: that ticklish area on either side of you right below your ribs and slightly to the back. I attacked.

I immediately regretted my decision.

Heather SCREAMED as she spun around toward me, her eyes wide with surprise, pulling her hands down in front of herself protectively, consequently backhanding me across the face with a wooden spoon covered in some kind of hot sauce I had yet to identify. The spoon across the face didn't exactly top my pain scale, but it sure wasn't pleasant, and I suspected I'd just gotten marinara in my eye. I licked the corner of my mouth where some of the sauce had dribbled down. Yep, marinara.

Heather, chest heaving in fright, said, "Jesus Christ, Eric!"

"Yeah, sorry." I was wiping sauce out of my eye with one hand, the other out in front of me, palm facing forward placatingly. "I thought I was going to surprise you..."

"Well you sure as shit did! Let me get you a towel and get some of that sauce out of your hair and off your face." She grabbed a kitchen towel hanging from the front of the oven door and started dabbing at the side of my face. "I was trying to be nice and have dinner ready for you when you got home. I know you've been working like crazy this week and I thought it would be a nice gesture. My reward? I get scared half to death and assault you with spaghetti sauce." Regaining some of her composure, she chuckled at that last little bit.

"I guess I thought it would be funny and cute to sneak up on you," I said with a shrug. "Now I know I'll never be the rogue I wanted to be."

Groaning at my corny attempt at banter, she replied, "Go get cleaned up. I'll have dinner ready in about ten."

Making my way toward the bathroom, I grabbed a fresh towel from the hall closet, and then some fresh shorts and a T-shirt from my room. With the bathroom door closed, I turned the shower on and stripped down. Soon, steam was starting to fill the small room, so I hopped in and started to get to business. The great thing about showers is that you are alone with yourself, performing actions by rote, so you've time to just be with your thoughts. It's a small window within which you can reflect without distraction. As I was lathering up and rinsing down, a thought occurred to me: I had expected to come home, microwave some leftovers, and pass out after a stressful week. Instead, Heather was cooking dinner for me. It was a sweet, simple gesture that spoke so loudly of her care and compassion. Without a word from me, she'd recognized I was worn down and had been treating myself very poorly that week, and took it upon herself to make sure I came home to a freshly cooked meal. It meant so much to me. Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and reached for my towel, smiling to myself while still happily dwelling upon how considerate Heather was.

I slipped into the shorts and shirt, clean from both the day and the surprise-attack spaghetti sauce, and made my way back to the kitchen just in time to see Heather finish laying out our dinner. Light banter was passed back and forth over our food -- nothing important, just some nice, light conversation. The food was great, the company was excellent, and nice small talk was a great way to end the night. No stress.

With the food finished, we worked together to clean up our small mess -- many hands make light work and all that. Heather was rinsing our last dishes as I loaded them into the dishwasher when she turned to me. "Oh! I forgot to mention, I set up the living room for movie night."

"You know," I replied, "I appreciate everything you've done for me tonight, but I just don't know that I'll make it through a movie without passing out."

She smiled and just said, "That's fine, we've seen it a million times anyway. I just figured it would be a nice way to wind down."

"Well, in that case how could I say no?" Affecting a stodgy old aristocratic voice I asked, "What have we on the playbill for tonight's entertainment then, mum?"

With a snort and a roll of the eyes, she answered, "The Goonies. It'll be great. Even if you pass out, no big loss. Finish up loading the dishwasher and I'll get the TV on."

With the last of the dishes loaded, I walked into the living room. Heather had rearranged the sectional so we had a long bench in front of the TV, giving us both plenty of room to stretch out and make ourselves comfortable. The DVD menu for The Goonies was already playing, and Heather was bundled up in a blanket on the couch waiting for me. She patted the seat next to her, and I gladly accepted the invitation as she hit play on the movie. As I settled into the couch, I could feel I wasn't long for the waking world, but I was going to enjoy being near her for as long as I could. Heather looked over at me with a grin, seemingly just happy to be there. She tossed a corner of the blanket over my legs and leaned over into me, resting her head on my shoulder. I was content. Not even fifteen minutes into the film, I was out.

I stirred sometime later in the night to the flickering of a repeating DVD menu and low background music. I was laying on my side along the length of the couch. In my sleep-clouded mind it took me far too long to realize that I wasn't alone. At some point, Heather had covered us both with the blanket, and she'd ended up nestled against me while I played big spoon. Our hands were entwined, hers on top of mine, both held to her chest. Her shirt must have ridden up during the night, because I could feel naked flesh under my skin, warm and soft. I took in a slow, deep breath, trying not to make any sudden moves or sounds to disturb her. She let out a small, sleepy sound and nuzzled harder back into me. The combination of her warm skin under my hand, her smell, and the way her body fit so well against mine was dangerous -- a recipe for disaster, more like. My body was already responding on its own, blood rushing down to my groin with every beat of my heart, my cock slowly growing harder and embarrassingly pressing into the woman sleeping in front of me. I needed to find a way to extricate myself before Heather woke up and I had to explain why I had my hand up her shirt and was rubbing my over-excited dick against her ass.

She made a couple more low murmurs and pushed back into me, rubbing her ass up and down a few times. That HAD to be intentional right? What was I going to do? A low, questioning, "Mmmm?" came from in front me, and I knew I was busted. So I cleared my throat, voice rough with sleep and said quietly, "Hey... um... sorry about..."

Heather cut me off before I finished trying to dig myself out of a hole. Sleeplily, she said, "It's okay." Slowly, almost languorously, she started rubbing against me again. "It feels good."

Even with several layers of fabric between us, it felt great. Slowly, taking her time, she was moving her ass up and down, back and forth. Grinding back into my ever-hardening prick, she guided our conjoined hands in front of her to her right breast, making mine squeeze it along with hers. I could feel her nipple hardening under my palm. Craning my head down, I let out a low moan into her nape before kissing the bare skin where her shoulder met her neck.

Suddenly, as if responding to a signal only she had heard, Heather stopped the grinding, released my hand, and spun to face me. Time stood still for just a moment, with us looking into each other's eyes, her face flushed with excitement, our bodies pressing into one another. My member was pressing up into the gap in her thighs, straining to be released. A crooked little grin graced her face. Viper quick, she came forward, pecked me on the mouth and said, "Get on your back!" Snaking her hand down between us, she grabbed my cock, giving it a light squeeze. "I need to take care of this."

No thoughts passed through my head as I moved onto my back. My actions were driven by desire. I don't believe I had any real control of them at that point. The hunger drove me on. At first I was confused when Heather made no move to straddle me. She instead slid down and placed herself between my spread legs, hands reaching for the band of my shorts. The top band came down and I sprung forth at attention, proud and veiny. I was transfixed by everything that was happening. All I was able to do was watch.

"Hips?" she asked.

Breaking out of my reverie, I stammered, "W-what?"

One hand still trying to pull my shorts down, the other playing around at the base of my cock, she laughed and said, "I'm going to need you to lift your hips if you want these shorts off."

Mumbling some sort of affirmative, I quickly did as she asked, and my bottoms were done away in short order. I lay there naked from the waist down, legs spread, with Heather kneeling between them. She was staring at my dick, which was pointing to the roof, throbbing at attention. Wasting no time, she dove down, enveloping the head in her mouth. Slowly and patiently, she started moving her mouth up and down, her tongue running along the underside of my shaft. Pleasure immediately spread through me. My eyes shut; I grabbed the back of the couch with one arm and the cushions at my side with my other. I let out a low, shuddering moan. That seemed to energize her, as she upped the speed of her head, oscillating it up and down. I opened my eyes and looked down the length of my body. All I could see was a cascade of Heather's hair, also in rapid, rhythmic motion.

She came up for air, pushing her hair back and to the side. She was looking up at me, panting with her mouth open, and I blurted out, "You're so fucking hot right now!"

Smiling back, she told me to get ready, then dove back down. Heather grabbed both my hips and drove her mouth down fiercely. Up, and back down again hard. With each new attack downward, she picked up more speed. My cockhead hit the back of her throat with a soft impact each time she dove back down. The move was punctuated by the sound of saliva cracking and a loud 'Gluck!' as she bottomed out at the back of her throat. Soon there was only a steady rhythm of throat noises filling the air.

Heather came back up, strings of saliva connecting her mouth to my cock. Gasping for air again, she let out a low, guttural, "Fuuuck!" As she struggled to make up the oxygen deficit, she replaced her mouth with her hand, pumping furiously. After a few short, panting breaths, she resumed her rapid attack, grabbing at my hips, seemingly using them to pull herself down harder. While I breathed heavily and groaned in ecstasy, my hips lightly thrusted forward in opposing rhythm to her actions. I felt, more than heard, a pleased "Mmmmmhmmm!" vibrating within her.

It was the hottest thing I had ever seen, let alone been a party to. In a matter of minutes we had gone from sleeping, to dry humping, to Heather aggressively fucking her own face with my cock as hard as humanly possible. She was unchained from modesty. Her world had narrowed to my prick and what she wanted to do with it. Her passion alone was driving me over the edge.

"Oh fuck! I'm cumming!" I grunted out as I felt her nose drive into my pelvis. She had taken my entire length into her mouth and throat. Normally I like to give more warning when I am close to finishing, but that final pop, as I passed whatever wall I was hitting in the back of her throat, instantly set me off. She let go of my hips and used her freed hand to reach under and knead my balls. I shot my load down her throat, pulse after pulse. With a cough, Heather started to slowly move her mouth up my shaft until, near the head, she finally opened up to get some air. With her bottom lip resting under the crown of my head, I shot my last few spurts out, thick strands landing on her nose and upper lip as a mix of spit and semen dribbled out of her mouth and down my quivering penis. Her eyes were red and watery like she wanted to cry, but the rest of her face read as happy and satisfied.

As I stared in awe, she just smiled, and placed a light, loving kiss on the tip of my dick.