All characters in this story are adults.
"Bye, mom," I said as I gave her that quick hug.
"Are you sure, Bev?" my mom asked me for at least the twentieth time that morning, her voice still holding onto that one tiny tendril of hope. A hope that I dashed and snipped with my firm refusal. She smiled sadly. "Well, drive safely, hon," she said, drawing me into a deep embrace.
"I will, I'll text you when I get back," I assured her. I was heading back to college, even though it was Black Friday and my mom had assumed - without consulting me of course - that I was staying for the full Thanksgiving break and going shopping with her on that one day. But I had to get back; I had a major paper due on Monday and I lied to everyone and had not even started the fucking thing. So I figured a hard day or two of writing and I'd wrap it up and head into my next to last finals week without many cares.
My dad came out and embraced me as well, and then draped his arm over mom's shoulder while the two of them watched me depart. I waved and beeped, and the moment I was out of sight opened my cell phone and texted Betty that I was on my way back.
I was nearly three hours into the three and a half hour drive when I realized that Betty had not replied to my text. I frowned for a moment; that was unlike her. But I'd be pulling into the home that I shared with five other girls - Betty included - around noon and did not figure that I'd be walking into anything hazardous.
I pulled into the driveway and exhaled long and noisily.
Gawd, what a drive!
I grabbed my phone and texted my parents that I arrived safely. My mother would have been calling me ad nauseum if I forgot! I saw that Betty's care was parked in the same spot where it had been when I left Wednesday afternoon.
She had been pretty vague about her plans over Thanksgiving, although adamant that she was remaining at school. I knew Betty the least out of my roommates, and while I had never pried, I did know that her home life was in utter disarray. Her parents were divorcing and I guess it was the nasty sort that makes its way onto daytime talk-show trainwreck varieties. She had started seeing a boy named Bryan; I'd met him and he seemed nice enough.
So I shut off the car and hauled out my big bag that now held some clean clothes, and schlepped that onto my shoulder and headed into the house. I unlocked the door and was right there, ready to call out Betty's name noisily when I heard a distinct wail that was purely woman and utterly sexual.
"Holy shit," I whispered. Suddenly the calculus changed, and I had no intention of making my presence known. I silently slipped the heavy bag from my shoulder and left it right on the floor near the door. None of my other roommates were due back until Sunday and while I had told Betty that I was likely coming back on Black Friday, I had not confirmed it until my text earlier this morning. Maybe she'd spent Thanksgiving Day getting well and truly fucked by Bryan, which was a pleasant thought.
I slipped my shoes off as another long cry emerged from one of the upstairs bedrooms. This time it had a distinct begging quality to it. "Pleaseeeeeee!" I had to assume that it was Betty; hers was the only car here!
I stepped out of my shoes, and closed and locked the door - double checking that it was locked. Then, as quietly as I could, I walked through the house. Each time the wood squeaked under my foot I winced; a sound that I routinely ignored time and again suddenly sounded as loud as a sonic boom to me!
"OH FUCK FUCK FUCK BRYAAANNNNNN!" she screamed. Well, at least I knew it was Betty, and given the volume of those screams, I did not figure that the soft squeaks of my feet on the stair riser would make its way to her.
"PLEASSSEEEE!" she wailed again.
What the fuck was going on? I felt my heart racing in my chest and my mouth was more than a little dry. Worse, I'd felt my own body react to her sexual cries, as I felt a distinct heat bloom between my legs. That wet, crawly sensation reminded me that I too had been on something of a dry spell sexually.
Now on the same floor as the bedrooms, I had to be utterly silent. Her door was open, wide open. I heard her panting hard, and a sharp, high-pitched cry that sounded deeply orgasmic to me. I shuffled, sliding my sock-covered feet along the floor. Her breathing was fast and shallow, and she moaned again. "Ohhhhhh god goddddddddd ooooooooOOOOOOO!" it ramped up in intensity and tone at the end.
Still, I crept forward, my heart going from racing and adding a thudding quality to it. This was wrong, one part of my brain insisted. Perving on my roommate getting a hard fucking! But there was a different part of me that was far more insistent that I see for myself.
The closer I got to that open door the more I heard her noisy breathing. A soft "oh fuck oh fuck!" More breathing. "God, please...please Bryan..." she moaned.
But I did not hear his voice. At all. And I realized that just before I reached the jamb of her bedroom door. Where was he? What was happening?
I peeked. A nanosecond. Nothing more. I pulled back, my eyes widening hugely as my brain sought to process an image that I knew would be forever indelible.
"OH FUCK I'M CUMMMMMMMMMMMING!" she screamed.
I peeked in again. This time I got more of the image. My own brain went:
Jesus!
Betty is a big girl. Not fat, but girthy. Thick, heavy breasts and wide hips with a big porn-star style ass, all supported by thick, creamy legs. She was easily the tallest of us girls, and towered over me - she was nearly six foot and I was a petite five-three. She had a quick smile and a quick wit, and kept us all laughing with her stories. She was also - whether this was a direct offshoot of her crumbling home life or not - the most sexually adventurous of us girls in the house.
I was one of three who - as far as I knew - had gone without any sort of partner so far that semester. Betty had claimed a count of seven, and she had winked salaciously indicating that at least one of the seven had not been male! That was only mildly intriguing, however; we had all at least stated that we had one encounter with another woman in our lives.
I had enjoyed two, both last year, with my then roommates. But that three-way triangle collapsed and I was the one forced out. So I had not been in any great hurry to go find any lover, male or female, in the aftermath of that debacle. Time had healed those wounds and while I would never again take either of my two ex-roommates into my bed with me, I was at least able to speak to them without wanting to rip their lungs from their chests.
I had not known that being a voyeur would be such a sexual turn-on, either. But there I was, standing in the hallway, and already almost unconsciously my fingers were undoing the button of my jeans and sliding the zipper down.
Because the sight before me was simply too stunning to comprehend. Betty was...well. She had on a really sexy set of lingerie. The black bra had low-cut lacy cups to accent her already big boobs. The garter belt hugged her hips, and she'd even connected the straps to the stockings that covered her legs. Her legs looked positively delicious in those stockings.
That alone would have probably been enough for me to continue doing what I was doing, which was to slide my hand, palm facing my belly, down my lower belly over my smooth, hairless mons and press the tip of my middle finger to my suddenly-aching clit! That's exactly what I did as I continued to watch Betty's helpless thrashing.
She panted and gasped, and her body's twitching strongly suggested to me that she was ramping up towards another orgasm. I wondered for a fleeting second before my fingers started moving faster how many she'd already endured. I had to bite my lower lip while I watched the scene.
She was blindfolded. Or at least a black, silk or satin sleep mask covering her eyes. Around her chest there was an intricately tied harness that looped around her breasts, the tie knotting over her sternum. I could not tell for sure whether her wrists were tied, but I had to assume that they were considering that her arms were behind her torso and the angle of her arms suggested that they were tight to her lower back.
Each leg had two...ties? I guess. There were several loops of the same white nylon rope high up on her thigh, above the stocking tops. Those were connected to her ankles, and there was a thick looping of the rope between the bonds. There was a smaller looping just above and below her knee, also tied in the center. She could not straighten her legs. From my vantage point I saw a double-length of nylon rope that ran over the arm of the chair she was in and traveled underneath of that same chair. Her legs were tied apart, connected from under the chair.
She did not have panties on, and I saw the tell-tale sign of a pink vibrator that was inserted into her pussy. It was held in place by a very tight-looking crotch rope that seemed to trap the vibrator into her pussy and held it in place over her clitoris.
