Rooming With RoseAnn Pt. 11

I dozed, and startled awake when the door lock rattled. I came instantly alert when I heard a male voice accompanying RoseAnn's. He urged her to have some coffee, and offered to make it for her. Her voice slurred as she protested that it was late and she needed sleep.

My head was still fuzzy when I walked out into the living room. Too late, I realized I was wearing only crumpled slacks. RoseAnn looked at me, surprised. A man as tall as her, craggy, tanned, white around the temples, stood with her.

"Oh, you're home already, Barry." She seemed relieved. "Did you have a good time?" Her voice betrayed that she'd had a little too much of the merlot she loved.

"I've been home a couple of hours. The party wasn't very interesting. In fact, it was awkward." I was uncomfortable lying, even by omission.

She kicked off her shoes, and half stumbled. Both of us instinctively reached to steady her, but she regained balance without help. "This is my boss. Keith, meet Barry. Barry, meet Keith." Without her shoes, she was shorter than her boss. He must have been at least six-three.

We briefly shook hands, but there were no smiles, and the hostility was palpable on both sides. "Shall I make coffee?" I asked, letting my manners win out over my urge to push 'Keith' out the door.

She hiccupped. "No. I want to sleep through the hangover I'm going to have in the morning." She giggled.

"She looks like someone put something in her wine," I said.

"Are those yours?" said Keith, gesturing at the stack of textbooks on the table. "Are you a student?"

"For about two days, so far," I said. "I just got here from Illinois."

"You look too old to be a freshman."

"I hear that a lot."

"Did RoseAnn rent a room to you?" He'd worked me into a corner where I'd have to reveal our relationship. After all, I'd walked out of a bedroom without shirt or shoes, which more or less gave the game away.

I made a poorly calculated attempt at evasion. "It's complicated," I said.

He nodded seriously, having got his answer. "It's late. I think I'd better go."

RoseAnn had gone to the refrigerator and taken out a bottle of juice. "Did you want some juice, Keith? Or maybe some more wine?" She knocked the plastic bottle on its side on the counter. "Oops," she said, making a mock-embarrassed face.

He was nearly to the door. "It's okay. You need some sleep." And then he was gone.

A few seconds after the door closed, she said, "Jesus Christ, I thought he'd never leave me alone."

"That's the fastest sobering-up I've ever seen."

"The son of a bitch came without his wife, and wouldn't keep his hands off me. But I made sure that every time he looked at me, I was refilling my wine glass. I had to act drunk for three hours. When he really started to push hard, I told him I was going to be sick. Nothing kills the urge for sex like the threat of being vomited on."

"Well, I went to a party where everyone stood around waiting to be introduced to each other. But I met a Nobel Prize winner and listened to him talk about his work."

"Really? And what did he say?"

"I have no idea," I said, chuckling. "He could have been speaking Chinese, for all I could understand."

She walked to the refrigerator, and then seemed to shake herself. She turned and sat on the sofa. "I almost forgot I have a slave to do things for me. Barry, mix a strawberry smoothie for me. Make it nice and thick."

I stood there puzzled for a moment, and then realized she was giving me an order. "Yes, RoseAnn," I said. My cock began to swell as I went to the refrigerator and took out the container of vanilla yogurt and a package of frozen strawberries.

"It didn't take long for you to forget," she said. I looked at her for a moment, puzzled, as she looked me up and down. Finally, I understood and shed my slacks and underwear immediately. After I blended the strawberries, yogurt, crushed ice, and sweetener together and poured it into a glass, I got down on my knees and handed it to her. I was astonished at how natural it felt, but I'd dreamed all summer of kneeling naked at RoseAnn's feet as her slave and servant. While she sipped at the smoothie, I massaged her feet. She closed her eyes and purred like a cat.

She let me rub her feet for a few minutes more, and said, "Get a towel and come back here."

When I returned, she'd already shed her dress and sat on the sofa in bra, slip, and panties. She spread the towel on her lap and gripped my balls to pull me toward her. She took my cock by the base and dipped it in the ice-cold smoothie. She held it there until it shrank and hurt from the cold, then she licked at it until it swelled again. Pink yogurt and strawberry bits ran down her chin and dripped onto the towel. She took my organ deep into her mouth and sucked the remainder of the liquid from it. "Mm-m. It tastes so much better this way," she breathed. She continued dipping and sucking, while my cock shrank and swelled. I stood before her, hips squirming and legs trembling, but the intermittent cold shock avoided any danger of an unwelcome climax.

She kept at it a long while, while I became more helplessly aroused and frustrated. At last, there was too little of the drink left to dip more than the head of my cock. She tipped her head back and drank the rest down.

As she handed the glass back to me, she said, "I was only planning to tease you, but every time I suck you, I'm finding myself wondering what your semen would feel like in my mouth. Sometimes I think it wasn't the taste of my ex, so much as the way he forced it on me. But when I'm in control, I'm seriously tempted to take you all the way. Very slowly, of course."

Abruptly, she stood up. "But you already know nothing's going to happen until the week is over, and you've proved that you can satisfy me properly and control yourself like a man." She winked at me and said, "Come to bed now."

When she finished her ablutions, she joined me under the sheet, where we embraced and kissed. Besides toothpaste, I could still smell alcohol on her breath, and she was more uninhibited than usual. She sighed loudly as I sucked at her breasts, until she urged me to move down her body and between her thighs.

* * *

Sunday morning, as I drifted into consciousness, beautiful little electric shocks radiated from my chest down into my cock. I thought at first I was still dreaming, but when I opened my eyes, RoseAnn's aromatic black hair filled my vision. She was licking a nipple and tweaking the other with her fingertips.

"That's nice," I gasped.

"I wondered how long it'd take you to wake up."

"If this is still a dream, I hope never."

"Aren't you the romantic?" she giggled. "You weren't hard, for once, when I woke up, so I thought I'd see what I could do to fix that."

"Evil woman."

"Mm-m. I like that. I'm the Princess of Evil, tormenting men until they crawl at my feet and beg for relief."

"...for the next six days," I added.

"I told you not to start a countdown," she chided. "It might be next Friday. But it could be much longer than that. It depends on a lot of things." She licked my other nipple for a minute, and then climbed over me and straddled my face.

Nothing needed to be said. I opened my mouth to receive her, used my tongue to push the thick hair out of the way--I was getting good at it--and thrust as deeply as I could into her vagina. Her soft cry sent me into a frenzy of licking, at the throat of her vagina, at its delicate petal lips, at the hot flesh between inner and outer lips. She controlled the action with the tilt of her hips until her orgasm swept over her.

Still trapped between her thighs, I gasped to recover my breath while she purred in delight. When she whispered, "I'm so happy with you," I thanked God and any other involved dieties that had conspired to put me in RoseAnn's bed.

* * *

The remainder of Sunday was equally pleasant. The apartment had its own washer and dryer, and I did our laundry while RoseAnn worked on a report for work. When that was finished, we went out to a little café for coffee and rolls, and strolled around together for most of the afternoon, holding hands. The differences in our heights and ages attracted the occasional stare, but neither of us cared. Nor did she see any value in keeping a cautious eye open for her fellow employees, since the cat was now out of the bag.

"If certain of my co-workers see us, I can be sure they'll go running to the boss first thing on Monday morning, but now it won't matter."

"Do you think he might fire you?"

She shrugged. "Unlikely. This is Silicon Valley. People like me are in demand. I don't think I'd be out of work any longer than it takes to xerox my resume and drive to the next company down the street, and Keith knows that. Meanwhile, he'd have to look for another me."

As the afternoon waned and the crowds thinned, we passed a flower shop that was preparing to close. On impulse, I bought a single rose and gave it to her. She was unexpectedly pleased, and kissed me, right there in the street. She gripped my hand tightly and whispered in my ear, "We should go home now. I'm getting a little horny." When she said 'home', it startled me to think that in less than a week, I'd also come to regard our little love nest as a real home.

We drove back to the apartment and made love in her favorite position: I, on my back on the carpet, and she, kneeling astride my head, steadying herself with a hand on the arm of the sofa. Afterward, she stretched out on my body, kissing my neck and ear, until she'd recovered her breath. We watched television for a while and went to bed, content and happy in each other's arms.

While she slept, I lay awake. Tomorrow I'd be having lunch with a beautiful redhead, and then coming home at night to RoseAnn. I suppose some men would take pleasure in keeping two women on a string at the same time. I might have, once upon a time. But now, there was something growing between RoseAnn and me that was more than simple sex. She had never explicitly said, 'I love you', but when she rode my face, her love flowed into me and blended with my soul, just as her sacred fluid flowed into my throat and made itself part of my body.

* * *

The Axe and Palm was about half full when I arrived, but Gloria's copper hair was easy to pick out from the crowd. I left my notebook with her and went to buy a sandwich and two tins of Coke.

"Orientation," I said as I sat across from her. "One class on 'how to study' and another on 'campus survival techniques'. This afternoon, 'how to use the library'."

"Well, be ready for that first day of class tomorrow. They'll throw vital information at you faster than you can write it down. Every prof starts off wanting to look tougher than every other."

"Thanks for the warning."

"I was looking at the signup list for the club. You don't live on campus. Why not?"

"I'm sharing an apartment. I heard too much about how noisy dorm rooms are. I'm too easily distracted."

"But that address of yours. Those are expensive apartments, even for this area."

I wanted to change the subject as soon as possible. I wasn't ready to tell her about RoseAnn. "My folks can afford it. Where are you staying?"

She shrugged. "I live at home, with Dad."

I made a face. "Oops. I forgot. Of course, you'd live at home."

"We've got a live-in nurse, too. I've got to stay with Dad for...well, for as long as it takes."

Now I felt awkward. I'd never suffered the death of a family member, and I didn't know what to say. "What's wrong with him?"

"Pancreatic cancer. He blames the chemicals he worked with for so many years."

"How bad is it?"

"He asked the doctor to stop treatments last month. They give him two to four months more." Her face reddened and her eyes moistened. I wanted to fold her in my arms and comfort her.

She looked over my shoulder. "Oh, shit!"

I looked up from my coffee. "What?"

"It's an old boyfriend," she said. "He's a pain in the ass. Keeps following me around and showing up where he's not wanted."

A deep voice boomed over my shoulder. "Hey, Gloria! Nice to see you." The sarcasm couldn't be missed.

"Fred, I'm talking to someone," she said, in a dismissive tone.

"Not even a hug for an old boyfriend?"

"Screw off!" she said, between her teeth.

He tapped me on the shoulder. "Watch out for this bitch. She's a ball-buster. It's her way or the highway."

I turned to see a young man who looked much like me. "The lady asked you politely," I said.

"I'm gone," he said. "But watch out. She's got handcuffs and a whip."

People at the surrounding tables were watching now. I stood up to make my point. "She's my friend, and I'm telling you to shut the fuck up." Fred raised an eyebrow and carried his tray across the cafeteria.

I sat down. Gloria was blushing bright crimson, and closer to tears than before. "Do you wonder why I broke off with him?"

"Not at all. He seems like a grade-A asshole."

"Thanks for stopping him. God knows how long he would have ranted."

"He had no business talking to you like that. Bitch? Handcuffs and whips, for Christ's sake? Vindictive bastard. He needs his ass kicked."

"We were just...incompatible. That's all."

"You don't have to explain anything." I left it there, and let her sit quietly. She seemed to want that. I had two tins of Diet Coke on my tray, and I opened one and wordlessly offered it to her. She sipped at it.

Her way or the highway? Handcuffs and a whip? Could Gloria be anything like RoseAnn? It would be too good to be true, attracting two dominant women at one time. Some men searched their whole lives without finding even one.

But that was foolish thinking. I couldn't start a double life, not with the short leash RoseAnn allowed me. As a matter of fact, why would I want to, when RoseAnn gave me everything I needed?

Even so, I wondered...