The Roommates Ch. 03

Three weeks later, with that video looked at almost bi-daily, I was ready for another viewing. It was around 9 Friday evening and Heather was still out since school and not expected to be back anytime soon.

I finished up my socializing and headed to my room to commence video watching.

Not wanting her to find some moist panties only to discover all her panties damp, I had only done the pantie thing no more than twice per laundry cycle. Unfortunately with her normal laundry day being Saturday morning, I knew that I had already reached my limit of two, so I passed by her room without stopping.

Settling in to my chair with my shorts and boxers in a pile next to me, I fired up the video. As usual, within the first couple of minutes, my cock was rock hard. I started to slowly stroke, milking it for that first drop of precum.

The moment that Heathers finger dove into her tight pussy, my cock flexed, slowly pulling the first of my man lube to the surface. It didn't have much time to pool before my fist would swoop over the soft skin of my cockhead and spread it down my shaft.

With every drop of precum that makes its way out, it is adding to the previous drops that are already coating the head and shaft. The more man lube, the more slick my cock was. The more Heather played, the more I played. The more I played, the more man lube.

We were well into it with both of us deep into moment, with me stabbing away at my sloppy cock and Heather swiping away at her clit. Knowing that she was going to cum soon, I hurried my stroking.

With my orgasm building, as if in a nightmare, I was startled by some headlights shining through the cracks in the blinds. These lights are coming from Heathers parking spot which is outside of my bedroom window.

Seconds away from blowing my load, I have to jump up to peek at who is parked there. Damn, it's Heather, what the fuck is she doing home so early, I said to myself. None the less, it meant an immediate end to this masturbation session.

I had 45 seconds best before she walks through the door. Knowing that I had a raging hard on, I ran to my drawer and pulled out a pair of my sports boxers knowing that they will at least not let my cock pitch a tent. I also grabbed a hoodie that's bagginess would cover any bulge that may be seen under my shorts.

Stopping the video, I ran to the living room, kicked on the tv and sat down awaiting her arrival. I waited for only a few more seconds before I heard the door being opened.

As I was still excited from the mad rush, I wasn't really lying when I jumped around saying, "holy crap you scared me, what are you doing home so early."

Seeing that she was obviously really upset about something, she just slammed the door with no answer and turned to make a hasty retreat to her room. "Hey, what's up," I ask again.

This time as she opens the door to her room, she turns around and in stereotypical drama style yells that she just walked in on Rick fucking some bitch, turned to her room and slammed the door. It was obvious that she was in hurt mode and not the mad mode.

"Hey Heather, you know that I am right out here if you need me for anything," I spoke through the door to her knowing that I probably wouldn't get a response. I grabbed my phone from my room and headed to the living room to wait.

I watched tv for a minute before I sent a text to a friend asking him if he could pick up a couple of things for me and bring them here. After briefly explaining in as matter of factly as possible, all I had to say was Heather was having a bad day but I should stay.

No problem, be there in fifteen, I'll text you when I hit your parking lot, he texted back.

10 minutes later he was sending me the text letting me know that he just pulled up.

Announcing that I was going to go grab something from my care, I walked out to meet my friend. He passed me the bag and I gave him more cash than would cover the bill. Thanking him with the "I you one, man," I turned to head back in.

"I'm back" I said, loud enough for her to hear me. Walking to the kitchen, I set the bag on the counter and fetch the bottle opener before pulling a bottle of wine from the bag. Taking two glasses out, I uncork the bottle and poured into each glass.

Taking the glasses in one hand, I reached into the bag to retrieve the remaining objects which happen to be a joint and a lighter and cupped them in the hand that would carry the bottle. I walked down the hall to her room and knocked.

"Hey, can I come in, I brought you something."

"No, go away," she replied in a pouty voice.

"Aw c'mon, let me come in, I promise it will make you feel better," I pleaded again.

Again, "No, go away."

On a hunch, I tried the door knob to find that it was unlocked. Entering her room, I teased that I had made my way in and now she was going to have to have a glass of wine with me.

"Damn you Dave," she shouted as she threw a pillow at me, narrowly missing the two glasses of wine.

Continuing forward, I sat on the edge of her bed where she was lying on her stomach with her face in the pillows.

"Here, have a glass of wine with me, it will make you feel better, at least physically. Seriously, we don't have to talk, we don't have to do anything, but have a glass of wine." "Deal?" I asked.

Heather did not reply but she hadn't told me to go away this time ether, she just laid there with her face in the pillow. Finally, after a minute of stillness and silence, she rolled on to her side and sat up with her back to me.

She held her arm back waiting for me to hand her a glass. When I gave her a chalice, she took it and stayed with her back to me while she put it to her lips and took a sip.

As she sat there continuing to sip on her wine in silence, I put my hand on her back and started to tenderly rub her back. Up until this time, we had never had any physical contact between the two of us but with the time that we have lived together we had grown kinda close and very comfortable around each other.

"Fucken dickhead" she blurted out before taking the glass of wine and pouring it straight down her throat.

I reached for her glass and as I was grabbing it, she followed my hand back around, buried her face into my chest and started sobbing again. I know there is a time and place for everything but as human nature would have it, this was the wrong time and place for this drama to be happening.

No more than 20-25 minutes ago, I was about to blow a load while watching Heather play with her pussy on my video. Now, with the combination of the cold wet spot in my shorts from the almost climatic orgasm, her arms wrapped around me with her face in my chest and the lack of any physical contact with another person for so long now, I couldn't help the fact that my cock was filling with blood again.

Really bad fucken timing is all that went through my head. Even though it was a really shitty thing for me to take the video of her and lust over the show she put on, this was her time. She needed a shoulder to cry on and all I wanted was to be there for her emotionally, not physically.

Thankfully, the way she was sitting and leaning into me, she wouldn't have been able to notice the bulge under my hoodie. After another minute or two, she started mumbling into my chest. What I could make of it, it sounded as if she was venting her pain.

As she continued, I let her talk as I reached for the bottle and started pouring another glass for her. When I handed the glass back, she took it and downed it again in one drink.

"Is that good" I jokingly laughed.

The reply I got back surprised me.

"Um hmm, but what I think I really need is some pot" she said.

Chuckling as if to try to lighten the mood, I replied with, "yup, that would definitely help you relax right now but you don't smoke, so now what?"

"Your right, but I have tried it once and from what I remember from it and what people tell me is that it does numb you up and right now that sounds nice" she rationally explained to me.

With two whole sentences spoken that had nothing to do with her issue, I held back on telling her that I had also thought the same thing and had taken action towards it. I wanted her to continue conversing with me about anything but Rick right now.

I guess the wine was starting to work on her as she continued talking.

"Seriously, I mean you smoke every once and a while, right? Why do you do it?" She knew the reason was the same, but she asked anyway.

"Well, to relax sometimes when I feel really stressed" I replied.

"See, I think that I am pretty stressed right now and need something to relax me. With that being said, fill me another glass."

As I took her glass and started pouring, I asked, "Heather, do you want me to get you some pot for tonight?"

Her still teary eye's snapped straight to my face and she than blurted out, "What? No! You don't have to do that for me, I was just say that in the hypothetical way. It wasn't meant literally, the wine is fine."

"Seriously, it's not a problem, if you want to try some, it would only take a minute after I make a quick call, no problem. Personally, I think you were right when you said that what you really needed was some pot. In the state that you are in now, I think that it is a no brainer choice. I'll make the call."

I already knew that in a while Heather was going to be high, relaxed and most importantly for the time being, forgetful of Rick. Right now, knowing that I already have a joint there with me, I was just looking for a little commitment to try from her. Even if it is a "I shouldn't" instead of "I won't."

"No! Seriously, there is a reason that I only tried smoking once and if there is ever a time not to smoke, it would be a time like this. I mean really, don't worry about getting some, the wine is great, thank you though" she explained.

With that being said and not wanting to pry on anything right now, I just let it go. In my head, what I was picturing was the person that gets violent and mean when they drink whiskey or something. The only puzzling thing about that thought was, to my recollection, I can't ever remember anyone that I have seen smoke pot and then turn violent.

Being the team player that I was at the time, I took a mental inventory of any breakables that we had in the living room and decided that if in the end it would make her feel better to let off some steam, then so be it, I can be her punching bag for the night.

I had taken the idle chit chat as far as I could take it, but seemed to have been enough since the wine had some time to sink in and make it so she wasn't sobbing as much. Fortunately, the wine by itself, wasn't enough numb the pain that she was feeling.

"Well Heather, here's the deal! I knew that you were clearly upset and also knew from personal experience that smoking definitely relaxes and eases cares, so I had already made that call and had this delivered along with the bottle of wine."

I held out my hand and presented the nicely rolled joint.

"Oh gawd, you really shouldn't have. There is no way that I could put you in the position to have to deal with my actions from that. As a matter of fact, please stop, I really can't smoke that with you and unfortunately, I can't and don't want to talk about what happened that first time. So feel free to have at it but seriously, I can't." As she spoke, she started to sound empathetic to my cause. Again, "I won't" was still a phrase that I still hadn't heard yet.

"I still think that you should come into the living room with me and at least take a couple of hits to relax your nerves." My mind still believing that whatever experience that she had the first time was merely a bad trip or something.

I was trying to be as comforting as I could and explained that as long as she felt better than she did now, I would be able to take anything she could throw at me. For the first time since she came home, I saw a slight upturn of her lips as she let out a smirk of a giggle and stated, "I bet you could."

Not understanding what was meant by that comment, I let it slid in one ear and out the other.

Feeling like she was becoming a little more sociable, thanks to the wine, I suggested that we move to the living room so we could be more comfortable.

"Well sweety, I guess I could smoke this myself but do you feel that you could join me in the living room to carry on." I asked knowing that a; I won't smoke in her room and b; the couch would indeed be more comfortable than sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Ok fine, but I have to pee first" she said.

Thinking that it was a little off color what she said, I chalked it up to the influence of the wine.

"Kewl, I'll see you in a sec" I said as I reached over and grabbed her now empty glass, the bottle and my glass and made my way out of her room.

As I was leaving, I had noticed the hamper was open and sitting on top of the pile was another pair of her panties. I really wasn't trying to be a perv at that moment but I have to admit the sight of those panties did, for a split second, conjure up near memories of what her panties have been doing to me over the last few weeks.

Upon reaching the living room, I sat her glass down on the end table and refilled it as I did the same with mine. Finding my usual spot on the couch, I sat down and readied myself for Heather and Mary.

A few minutes later, Heather entered the living room with a new wardrobe on. It was a white baggie t-shirt and a pair of grey sweat shorts. Really nothing that she doesn't normally wear around the apartment but obviously far more comfortable and casual than the slacks and blouse that she was wearing from school .

As usual, she also sat on the couch at the opposite end, kicking her legs up and tucking them into an Indian cross. With her sitting like this facing me, she was basically spread eagle with nothing but the soft material of her shorts standing between me and the very same pussy that I have shot numerous loads over.

Looking at this plus the visual that I now had in my head of what was under those shorts kinda took me to that uncomfortable place. It wasn't that it would have normally bothered me, but at this moment, this was all about Heather and her problems.

Wow, I really need to spark this joint up, I said to myself. Heather, who was reaching for her glass just started talking again. She wasn't bashing or anything, just talking about "how anyone could do that" types of things.

Checking before I lit the joint, I asked her if it was ok for me to smoke in front of her. Again, she said that it was fine and didn't have any issues with it, she just couldn't do it herself. Little did she realize how strong this pot was, I knew that if she stayed in the living room with me that she would still get a pretty good contact high.

As I lit up, she took her glass and again, emptied it down her throat. Exhaling the smoke, she did stop in her ranting to comment on how good it actually smelt. I'm not sure if she didn't know about contact high's or the wine was making her forget about it but, whether she actually smokes it or inhales the second hand smoke, unless she left the living room, she was going to end up high.

After a few minutes of her rumbling on about this, that and the other, she started to ask me questions. All of which were basic relationship questions that she was asking my opinion on. I know I should have stopped the line of questions as, since my break-up, I am not exactly the best person to discuss relationship matters.

Talking in another pull off my joint, I just about gagged myself as the next question rolled out of her mouth.

"How do you do it? I mean, you have been single for a couple of months now, yet I have never seen you bring another girl home or go out on a date" She asked.

It really wasn't "the question" that got me chocked up, it was the truthful answer. How in the hell could I tell her the truth.

While I was thinking of the appropriate answer, she continued on with, "I mean, I have been without a boyfriend before but it had always been on my terms, this is different and I would like to know how someone deals with the absence of, things."

Looking for the explanation, I took my glass of wine and threw it down my throat. As Heather waited for an answer, she reached for her glass and the bottle and was disappointed to find out that the bottle had been emptied. It was actually a good thing as the wine had already delivered all that it was going to without knocking her out and making her sick.

Still without giving my answer yet, she continued her line and ended up with a face full of smoke.

"Well, I'm sure that you masturbate but that only works for so long before you would have to start desiring the feel, smell and taste of a woman. How do you do it? I only ask because I masturbate also but it has always been as an addition to sex, not a substitute."

Again, the truth was something that could not be brought to light. Let's see how this answer would sound, "Well, I am in the same boat that you are, I wouldn't be able to do it ether except that between the video that I shot of you fingering yourself and the damp panties of yours that I suck on almost daily, the only thing that I am missing is the feel." Sounds great, but not very practical if I would like to continue owning a penis and testicles.

I figured the answer that I gave was allot more applicable. Playing the devil's advocate I replied, "First off, this is something that roommates shouldn't be talking about, but yeah, I do masturbate, but it is purely for the physical stimulation. As you know, I was really messed up from my break-up so the emotional care has been shelved for a while, hence the reason that I have not actively been looking for anyone new."

"I see, so how do you do it?" she asked.

"WHAT" I exclaimed.

"How do you do it, I mean do you watch porn or something?" Her obvious intoxication showing itself.

"OK Miss Chatty Kathy, it's a good thing you are out of wine because I think you've definitely had enough to drink."

"Damn, your right, we are out of wine. I'll tell you what, I'll try and smoke the rest of that joint with you if you promise to keep talking."

Being that I am now pretty high myself, I know that if I keep talking in my condition that I may accidentally say something that I shouldn't. But at the same time, we are here for her and if she is going to feel any better, she will need a THC fix. Plus, if she does have a violent streak, then she won't physically be able to do any harm.

Aw, what the hell is it going to hurt, she is now drunk and soon to be high, she won't remember anything about this conversation later.

Giving in, I tell her, "fine, just let me go to the bathroom first."

I knew I was asking for trouble when I got up to go to the bathroom and realized that my penis was at the proverbial half mast. This arousal was a product of hearing her voice talking about me masturbating. And when she admitted to masturbating herself, I had nothing but the image from the video in my head of her finger sliding deep between the folds of her pussy.

While standing at the toilet, I actually felt my penis growing in my hand as a stream of pee splashed into the water. I was feeling torn by the fact that she'd just broken-up with Rick, yet I was getting aroused by her voice saying the things she was saying.

By the time that I had finished peeing, my cock had grown as much as it could while being held down for aiming. At that point, the stoned perv in me began showing itself. Alone in my thoughts, I told myself that I needed to somehow record this conversation as it would make a great companion to the video.

As I finished up and opened the door, I was surprised by Heather standing there waiting for me to come out.

"You done, good, my turn" she said as she pushed her way by me and closed the door.