Roommates, or Bogey Lives!byLitRiter©
My old roommate asked his girlfriend to move in, so bang, I was homeless. Pissed me off! I only made so much money, working at a major chain selling computers and electronics. I didn't even get a commission! I was in a bad place.
I was in the break room bitching with a couple of the guys, when Marilee chimes in from over by the microwave. "My roommate just moved out too! I don't know how I'm going to make it." Well! I had just the idea. I suggested that I move in with Marilee, and the guys looked at each other, trying hard to not laugh. Let me explain the humor.
My name is Roger Devereux, I was 23 years old, and I'm into computers, hardware and software. I'm also into UFC (that's Ultimate Fighting), and I have three brothers who are too, so I may not look dangerous, but I can take care of myself. I'm five foot seven and weigh about 145, so I am pretty skinny. I have brown hair that's kind of oily, no matter what I do, and what has lovingly been called shit-brown eyes. My face is thin, and at one point I had a problem with acne, so I have some old scars on my cheeks.
Marilee Herman, on the other hand, was 24 years old, and into sex, drugs, and rock n' roll. She's five-two, but you'd never know it unless she's at work, because she's always wearing killer high heels that put her almost up on her toes, or right at about my eye level. She's thin but not skinny. When she wears her tight little skirts her hips kind of, what do they call it, muffin-top? But D-A-M-N he is so freakin' hot because of it.
She's got a little meat on those bones, especially when her D cup tits are jammed into C cup bras. I know, how does a geek know? There was a bet. I lost, but we all learned the numbers. She has butch-short black hair, too black to be natural, with a bright pink stripe that runs up the side of her head, eyes that change color regularly (contacts, I'm betting), piercings in her eyebrow, nose, several in each ear, and her belly button, and last but not least, three tattoos; a Celtic band on her upper arm, a standard tramp stamp, and one she only smiles about, usually saying, "Don't you wish you knew."
The only things, besides her killer body and pretty face, that keep me hot for her are her genuine intelligence, and the fact that nobody I am aware of knows what that third tattoo really is. Also for all of her intelligence and interest in self-mutilation, Marilee has absolutely no idea that she's hot.
"When could I move in?" I asked, going over to her. "What's the rent?"
She told me the rent and I almost dropped. It was nearly a hundred less that I had been paying! "You can move in this weekend," Marilee said, smiling at me. Strangely, with all of her other grunge/goth characteristics, Marilee's teeth are freakin' perfect. Better than mine, and I do all the brushing and regular dental visits.
"Sure!" I said, "This weekend will be great!"
"You don't have pets, right?" Marilee asked, and I was glad all of a sudden that I hadn't gotten that dog I'd wanted a month before. I shook my head, and she asked, "And you won't mind if I have guys stay over with me?"
My heart sank, but I think I covered it well. I just said, "As long as you don't mind when I have girls over for the night." She gave me one of those smiles that I hate, the kind that says I'm smarter than you, and I can see right through you. And then she nodded and we shook on it. I probably went too far by pulling her in for a shoulder bump, but god her tit felt good when it mashed against me.
I moved in that weekend, and Marilee was working for most of it, so I hardly got to see her. But as soon as I was settled we learned how to be roommates for each other. She learned that I watch a lot of UFC, and I learned that she listened to speed metal really loud. She learned that I demand privacy in the bathroom, and I learned that she mostly ran around in tight t-shirts that showed her middle (and nipples) and tighter little low-rise panties. She learned that I like Mexican and Mandarin Chinese food, and I learned that when she ran around in her underwear I was physically capable of whacking off up to eight times a day. It wasn't easy, but she inspired me.
The scary thing is, even in her underwear, I never saw the third tattoo.
We'd been living together for about a month, and I was about to put in one of the movies I'd rented for the night. Marilee was going out, and she had on a too-tight black bra under a long sleeved fishnet shirt, a tight black miniskirt with straps that hung down and were fastened to the top of her fishnet stockings, and black leather ankle boots with heels that looked like you needed to register them as deadly weapons with the police. Her eye makeup was black and thick, and so was her lipstick. She looked like an absolute slut, and my dick was so hard it hurt.
"What are you doing tonight?" Marilee asked me as she was packing her purse. I was crashed out on the couch in tight black jeans and a t-shirt and socks.
"I rented a movie," I said, at that moment pressing the play button on the remote. I'm a nut for old movies, and I'd been feeling the need for a little "Casablanca". As soon as the music started, Marilee drifted over and started to watch. When they were singing La Marseillaise she sat down, and when Rick was drinking himself into a stupor she was sitting close to me. When Rick was telling Ilsa to get on the plane, Marilee had her head on my shoulder. I was completely chillaxed, but my cock was standing at full attention, and I was starting to wonder if that "See a doctor if an erection lasts more than 4 hours" thing only mattered if you took a pill.
The movie ended and Marilee had black streaks running down her cheeks. She smiled at me, and she said, "That was a great movie. Do you have anymore like that?" The other movie I'd rented was The Big Sleep, also with Bogart, and I said she might like it. She was pretty excited and said, "Let me go get changed. Don't start it without me."
So I sat there for about twenty minutes, watching the menu screen of the DVD, and when she came out I about shot my load in my pants. She'd washed her face, and she was wearing a big white t-shirt that hung really loose because her tits pushed the front out so far, and it went down to her thighs. I really wanted to know what she had on under that shirt. I would have let her bite off my right nut and spit it in the toilet, to see the wonders under that t-shirt.
She smiled at me, looking so damn sweet, and she not only sat right up next to me, not only laid her head on my shoulder, but she put her hand on my leg - dangerously close to my throbbing cock. I started the movie. She didn't move hardly at all, but she laughed at some things I had known but hadn't paid attention to. I knew Carmen had been stoned and taken dirty pictures at Geiger's place, but Marilee thought it was totally cool to see that in an old movie, and when Marlow was leaving the bookstore after the rain, after the cut where he bantered with the shop girl, Marilee squealed, "They did it! They didn't even know each other and he fucked her!" I said I didn't believe it, and we replayed the scene, and holy shit!
We watched the movie right up to the end, and in the time it took for the screen to go dark and the credits to start rolling, I was kissing Marilee, and she was kissing me back. I put my arms around her and pulled her close, and she shoved me down and crawled on top of me. We were laying on the couch together, Marilee on top of me, kissing. I don't know who started it, and I don't care. I like to think we both started at the same time.
I don't know what I expected from her. She's such a wild child, you know? But the girl I was kissing was just a nice, soft girl. I ran my hands over her back, enough to tell me she wasn't wearing a bra, and she just held on to me, her arms around my middle. We kissed like that for a while, like over an hour, and I wasn't planning on going anywhere soon. I had already given up on the hope that she didn't feel my cock pressing into her thigh.
She moved a little, and her hand pressed down on my bulge. I gasped because it really kind of hurt, but I kept right on kissing her. Her hand rubbed softly, and then harder, and I could feel her start to breathe funny, like she was really getting into me - which meant I would probably be getting into her soon. I felt her pulling my zipper down on my jeans, and then she sat up. "Oh shit!" Marilee said, and her face looked like I'd caught her frigging herself. "I'm sorry!" She said, all hoarse and breathy, and she jumped up and ran into her bedroom and slammed the door. Before I could say, "What the fuck?" her stereo came on and speed metal shook her door.
I wanted to kick in her door and finish what we'd started, but that shit doesn't cut it anymore. Bogey's dead. I settled for going into my own room and whacked out two before falling asleep.
For the next two months we were strangers. She didn't care what movies I was watching, and we never brought up what happened. We barely spoke to each other, not because I was avoiding her, but she was just never around when I was, and when she was she'd be in her room.
Then one night Steve showed up. Steve was a big guy, a bad boy through and through. He was a speed metal freak, about six-one, maybe 210 pounds. He had hair kind of like mine, but black, and he had muscles like you wouldn't believe. This guy looked like a picture in a comic book, or maybe like Henry Rollins, you know? Totally buffed out and cut. He had tattoos all over his arms and neck, but his tight black t-shirt and jeans covered everything else.
Steve treated me the way all guys like him do, like dog shit, not even worthy of notice. I tried to talk to him, but all I got out of it was that his name was Steve and that he was taking Marilee out. She must have had 50 or even 100 I.Q. points on the numskull, and he was taking her out.
She came out of her room, dressed in the same outfit she'd worn on Casablanca night, and she hurried out the door without looking at me. I was starting to get a complex when Steve sneered at me on his way out after her. I mean, she was obviously getting into me, so why snub me and go after the Neanderthal man?
I watched T.V. until about three in the morning, and I was dozing when I heard a key in the lock. Twice. I was home and hadn't locked it, so she locked it first, and then had to unlock it. The door flew open and they crab walked through the living room, joined at the tongue. Steve kicked the door shut and they went right on past me and into Marilee's bedroom, and then her door closed too.
I got up, wearing my jeans and socks, not even a shirt, and my scrawny body wouldn't impress many people. I went to her door and heard them creaking around on her bed. I raised my fist above the door's surface, and then I dropped my arm and turned toward my bedroom. I turned around immediately and put my face close to the door, about to shout at them to be quiet, but I shook with fury and moved back out into the living room.
When I kicked in the door, I heard myself shout, "Bogey Lives!" Steve looked back over his shoulder at me, his face a mask of rage, his entire back covered by colorful tattoos. He was only wearing his jeans. Marilee was under him, and I saw that he had both of her wrists in one of his big hands, and the other hand was out of sight, up under her skirt. "Get the fuck out of here!" Steve shouted at me.
"Roger!" Marilee squealed, "Close the door!"
"Get the fuck off my girlfriend!" I heard myself shout. I must have looked really imposing, because Steve laughed, and Marilee turned bright red.
"Okay," Steve said, getting up from the bed. He looked back at Marilee and then turned back to me quickly, snapping of a shot into my gut. It hurt. A lot. A snap of his other arm and again the pain flared in my gut. Marilee started screaming.
I had my arms up to protect my face, and I whipped my elbow into his cheek, splitting the skin and drawing blood. First blood.
His next shot caught me on the side of the head and I went spinning a couple of steps, dizzy and disoriented for just a second, and when he moved in I broke his nose with the heel of my palm. "I think he called me a "Fucking Bastard," but it came out "Puckin' Pah-tuhd." I put my knee into his side, but he was quicker than I thought and his fist slammed into my face, sending me to the floor.
Steve spent a few minutes kicking me around the room, and I guess Marilee came to my defense, because they started shouting at each other. I couldn't make out the words because my head was ringing too loudly. I stood up and Steve turned toward me, and I jammed the heel of my palm into his nose again. Oh man, did he scream.
He swung wildly and his arm caught me sending me staggering into a little prefabricated desk unit. Steve muttered something unintelligible and left. Actually, he said something about this being too much trouble over a fat chick, but I will never repeat that again, just in case Marilee didn't really hear it.
I went to Marilee and she slapped the snot out of me. Not literally, but she smacked my face pretty hard. "How dare you burst into my bedroom like that? You had no right to pick a fight with my date! And just what were you thinking, calling me your girlfriend anyway?" Marilee shouted, and I stood there and took it. My guts hurt a lot, and my head too. My eye was swelling shut, but I'd broken the ape-man's nose and cut his cheek. He'd run away. I won.
"If you think that some macho display like that is going to make me fall for a skinny little freak like you, you-" Marilee was still shouting, so I shut her up by grabbing her and kissing her, hard. She was looking up at me then, her expression shocked and still pretty mad. And then she kissed me. If I didn't feel like I was about to pass out from pain, I'd say it was the best moment of my life. Maybe it still was.
Marilee held me close and giggled. "Bogey lives?"
"Yeah," I mumbled, embarrassed.
Marilee went to her bedroom door and closed it, and when she turned around again she looked shy, or innocent? "Can I be the lady in the bookstore?"
"Marilee, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," I said, without even attempting the distinctive Bogart voice.
She came to me and we kissed, a long, slow deliberate kiss. My heart, and now my lips, were the only parts of my body that didn't ache so badly I thought I might cry. I stared into her eyes, green tonight, and I ran my fingers through her hair. I wanted to sit, or better yet lie down, so I released her and laid out on her bed, wincing when my guts threatened to explode. Marilee climbed on me and we kissed more, deep, slow kisses that made my whole body warm and calm, while putting every nerve on edge wanting more.
"When he was hitting you, I thought he was going to kill you, but you got him," Marilee said, her eyes flashing and her breathing getting deep and fast, "You took him down." She kissed me hard, her tongue pushing into my mouth and running all over. Whatever she might have said, I could tell watching the fight had turned her on. Turned her on and dialed her up all the way. I wanted her so badly, needed her, but I had to ask.
"Marilee," I said, trying to catch my breath after the deep kissing, "If you wanted me, why didn't you say anything. Why did you stop me after the movies?"
She touched my swollen eye and I hissed. "Why didn't you come after me then? Why didn't you kick down my door and take me?" she asked, kissing me again. It was a good question. I was trying to be the kind of man I thought women wanted. It turned out she wanted the caveman. She wanted the man who would take a shitload of punishment and break a dude's nose to prove he wanted her bad enough. I had to laugh, and I did. I never thought of myself as that man, but I guess I was.
Marilee kissed my chest, and then again, and again, and lower. When she got to the level of my ribs I was in agony with every kiss, but I'd be damned if I was going to stop her. She tore open my pants and pulled at my waistbands, and I lifted my hips up so she could yank my pants and shorts off. Before I knew it her mouth was bobbing hard on me. Marilee was fucking me with her mouth, and I didn't want to know how she'd gotten so damn good at it. I decided she was a natural talent and left it there. After only a few minutes of having my cock expertly fucked, black lipstick smeared all over my shaft, I was betrayed by my body and several loads of my jizz erupted, one right after the other, shooting fast and hot from my cock onto Marilee's face.
I thought for a second that her expression was one of pure joy, until her eyes scrunched tightly and she said, "Ewww, yuck!" She demurely added, "Gross!" and she used her sheet to wipe my spunk off her face. But she was smiling when the sheet no longer hid her features, and she went right back to sucking my dick, just more slowly. I decided to forgive my cock when it faded to semi-hard, and then with her oral encouragement returned to full raging hard-on.
I was by then down to one working eye, the other swollen completely shut. Marilee moved up like she was going to do something sexy, but the bruises were beginning to show on my sides and ribs and belly. Instead she stood up and and began to strip.
She pulled her net shirt off over her head, then her bra, and her amazing, gorgeous tits rolled free. They looked like they'd been tied down and smothered, and now that they were free they slowly filled out and returned to their normal, perfect shape, like full teardrops, firm and proud. Her areolae were large, half again the size of a half dollar, and her nipples were hard and prominent in their centers, like large pencil erasers protruding nearly a quarter inch.
"Marilee, you have the finest tits," I said, breathless.
"You romantic dog," Marilee said softly, with a smile. She unhooked the straps from her stockings and unzipped her skirt, pushing it down over her hips and thighs to drop to the floor. My dick jumped when I looked at her, so further comment was unnecessary. She sat on the edge of her bed and pulled her boots off, and then slid her stockings down and off. I saw her raise her ass up from the bed slightly and she pushed her panties down her legs. She was pulling the covers aside, her back to me, and I couldn't stand it.
"Show me!" I said, going out of my mind with lust. "Show me your body."
"You can have me," Marilee said, still trying to get beneath covers.
"Stand up, damn it!" I hissed, my guts hurting. I wasn't angry with her.
Marilee stood and took a few steps away from the bed, and then turned around and held her arms out, displaying her body to me but looking at something far away. Released from the bonds of her clothes, her body was trying to resume it's normal shape. The tight indentations of waistbands and stockings slowly faded. Marilee didn't have a muffin top, she had curves. Full, voluptuous curves, and she was damn sexy. I still couldn't consider her fat, though I know there were those who would say that.
Beneath the swell of her tummy I saw her pussy, smooth and hairless, and I saw the tattoo. I couldn't help myself. I rolled off the bed and got down on my knees in front of her. I pressed my lips to her smooth, warm skin, and I kissed her tattoo. It was a stylized scroll, directly above her cleft, and on the scroll was written "Arcadian Ingress." My hands squeezing her ample, firm ass, I moaned onto her pussy, "Marilee, you're so beautiful!"
"Stop it," Marilee said, and I could tell she was uncomfortable. She thought I was lying.
"Marilee," I said, kissing her tattoo again, "I mean it. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." I started to run my tongue into her groove, and on the third lick she was wet. I pushed into her groove harder and found her clit, and I rubbed it softly with just the tip of my tongue. Marilee cried out softly and her fingers ran through my hair. Her clit was swelling, and her whole pussy was drenched with her sweet juices.