He could not remember what he noticed first, the sound of her high heels on the cold floor or the smell of her perfume. She was definitely going out tonight.
The "she" in question was his flatmate whose shut door he blew past on his way to doing more work standing in the kitchen on yet another Friday night. New York City life was a bit of a drag sometimes. Standing in the kitchen alternating between typing, eating, and swearing, the latest near silent "Fuck" that escaped his lips was not due to work. "Damn, she looks like sex on a stick tonight."
She had moved into his extra room, which could have been his office, after a long term relationship fell apart. Sleeping on your ex-boyfriends couch gets old fast. So he opened his door as soon as he learned of the situation from a mutual friend. He worked hard and did well and had the space. It was a pleasure to have a friend around to bring life to the flat, particularly someone as pleasurable as her. Not wanting to cross any lines, make things awkward or uncomfortable he kept his wicked thoughts to himself. After a year, he resigned to the way things were. But he had eyes and nostrils and an ache to lay siege to her bedroom that would not go away.
Feigning interest in his work, he craned his neck to admire her walking between the sink and the refrigerator, prosecco in hand. Dressed to the nines was putting it mildly. No one item screamed sex but the whole package told a story. Standing at 5'8" in those ankle length heels, she was pushing all his buttons. The dark stockings with the thin black line that went all the way up her legs up into a tight little dark leather skirt. Where did those lines stop? The silk blouse with a hint of something sheer underneath it, small hooped earrings that looked like they needed a tug, dark red lipstick that matched the schall covering her neck and wrapped down to her shoulders. This ensemble covered a lithe and strong body honed and kept at perfection during many gym sessions.
She clicks and clacks between the kitchen, the bathroom, and her bedroom, finishing off her glass before she departs. Not many words passed between them as he attempted to focus on his work. After the door slammed and the key turned in the lock, another audible, "Fuck" escaped his lips as he turned to the metalic homebar to take the edge off.
After drinking too much, he went to bed alone. The flatmate porn he watched did not even provide his normal sleep aid.
Groggy, he groaned upon being awakened by the sound of her after-hours entry. His hardon strained against the cotton of his navy boxer briefs. He needed to blunt his frustration and get back to sleep. One tried and true method was Literoritca and hand cream. He kept the bottle in the shared bathroom so this was going to be tricky. Poking his head into the hallway, his eyes only saw darkness and the slightest glow coming from under her door. He crept to the bathroom, grabbed the bottle and a towel, and stole back to his room without being detected. He was in no mood for her drunken side-eye, no matter how good she looked when she smirked.
Pulling his shirt off and dropping his boxers was done in one fluid motion once he made his way back into the darkened room. Sitting on the towel and unlocking his tablet, he knew just the story that would get him there and then to sleep. Cock in one hand and tablet in front of him, he was about to start, when a notification floated down from the top of his screen. Clicking on it out of habit, he was faced with picture message with the caption, "Did u like my outfit tonight?" The image must have been taken earlier as the fading evening light was evident in the background. It was her alright, taken of her traffic accident causing backside while she was getting ready. The skirt, stockings, and heals all matched his sideways recollections. He was mesmerized. Thinking that it had to be a mistake, a drunken mix up in who she wanted to send the message. She probably was still teasing her date. He swiped back towards his original plan.
Silently returning to porn, now more eager for a release of tension. Starting from the top, this would be a dogeared story had it been printed out. Just as he is getting to the good part, he is annoyed by another notification from his messaging app. With one hand still wrapped around his dick he is about to open the message when he is blinded by his overhead bedroom light.
Due to the sudden explosion of light overwhelming his senses, he didn't hear his own door close. He didn't hear it open either. Standing now and very confused, his glance turned towards the upside down tablet laying on his bed. At first he didn't recognize the second picture for what it was, thinking it was just a banner ad for the porn site. The red sheets gave him a clue, as did the small hoop earrings and lipstick. But what surprised him most, once he recognized her, was his flatmate had a glass dildo between her lips and both pert nipples were clamped. The light around the edges of the picture indicated that this one was also taken earlier in the evening too.
These pictures and questions weren't a mistake. What the hell was going on?
Throwing his boxers and tee shirt back on. He charged out of his room and opening her door, finding her eyes facing him, laying on her back on those familiar red sheets. Her head, inverted, hanging over the edge of the bed and her feet pointed towards the window. Her eyes staring directly into his with a smirk or a snarl, she said. "What took you so long, fool! Do I have to make all the moves around here and you are overdressed. Get back into the state you were just in on your bed. I want to play."
Her clothing and shoes from earlier were scattered across the floor as if she had half undressed herself at random. Her long hair and makeup were still perfect and her lips matched the sheets. Clad only in matching bra and underwear with garters attached to the top of those stockings (at least he found out where the lines ended), she had to remove the glass dildo from her mouth to speak again and she loudly popped it out like a lolly.
"S-Sit down and describe to me what you were doing." Her shaking hands and slight tremble in her voice were the only things that gave her nervousness and excitement away. Not that he noticed. He could feel his pulse in his ears and his breath was ragged. Knowing that he was the wronged one in this situation, did nothing to quell the fight or flight instinct in his brain and the hormones being dumped into his bloodstream.
"You know what I was doing. And what the hell is going on here?" came out more like a scream than the cool confidence he wanted to project. "I am careful not to invade your space. I don't know what sort of night you had but..."
"Oh drop the act and your boxers silly boy. If you are so mad, why are you sitting down? Trust me, this will be fun... if you can survive some pain first."
A chill ran up his spine and settled on the back of his head, crackling like static. She had him there and he hadn't realized he was even sitting. The residual buzz from the drinks and excitement had his nerves ragged and pulse racing.
"Off! Off, off, off. As you were, please. Now" she said while spinning the tip of the glass along her lips. She flipped over onto her stomach, righting herself. She then reached behind her to take off her bra, exposing her clamped nipples.
"Now, I have shown a remarkable amount of... g-good faith here." She said looking down across her chest which had flushed as crimson as the sheets. "I have had these on since I came back home from a very disappointing evening and you get the chance to get a glimpse of what you've always wanted."
"I don't know what you are talking about. I thought..."
Pop! Suck! Slurp! There was a thin line of lipstick imprinted halfway down the toy. His mouth went dry.
"The thought of you eye fucking me in the kitchen before I left tonight had me so wet I changed my underwear before I left the house. Don't tell me you don't want this too, your little friend is clearly intrigued."
He looked at the ground and then nodded his acquiescence almost imperceptibly.
