Just A Taste Ch 03

(This story is written in first person…some from Dee's perspective, some from Matthew's perspective -- separated with the ++++ signs. If you begin at Ch. 1 to get the feel of it ~ you may avoid confusion.)

Continued…

Looking back at that night in The Cellar, I recall every moment…

Sitting on the floor together, laughing about the dirt on my fingers. Staring at his lips for what seemed like hours, but may have only been seconds. In a surprising move, Matthew reached up, ran his fingers through my hair, grabbed my head and leaning over, slowly licked around my lips.

Ahhhh you are such a dirty boy, licking your cum off my lips -- that is so fuckin' taboo- it has me excited and curious about what else you might do.

He gave me the most sensuous kiss ever; tasting, lingering, hauntingly sweet. He rattled my brain so thoroughly that I was left sitting there in shock when he quickly pulled away and said, "I have to go and think about this," he then stood up and practically ran out the door. I'm not sure how long I sat there remembering the taste of his lips, remembering the taste of him; wondering when I might be able to taste him again. After coming to my senses, I did what I had to do… I washed my hands, blew a kiss to myself in the mirror and left the bathroom. Collected my flip-flops still under the bar and then proceeded to walked home. It wasn't as uneventful as that --

those echoes must have traveled all through out the bar!

- the evidence being all the cat calls, the leering looks, the twenty dollar tip, the handful of tic-tacs

thanks!

, and a business card quickly handed to me on the way out -- but I was moving on auto pilot, not knowing what my next move would be and not caring. I was basking in my good fortune and I didn't want to ruin it by analyzing it or wonder why he didn't follow me home.

++++++++++++++++++++++

I could see in Dee's eyes that she was totally taken with me that night and I must admit when all the fun was over, looking into her eyes and seeing what I saw, was freaking me out. I have never been one to linger too long on relationships and even though this quick fuck and sip in the bathroom was awesome, I had to ask myself how much I was in for. I had to analyze every detail. I really think she is one crazy girl and I will be glad to hook up with her again, hell…I look forward to it. However, I need to give her time to realize that I am not a sure thing. Not being good with words, I thought it best to just say a quick good bye and get out of there.

I had slipped outside, walked to the side of the building and in a split second decided to wait and see where she would go when she left the building. I didn't have to wait long when she walked out the doors and proceeded down the street. She looked so Hawaiian in her short skirt and flip-flops; it wasn't a hardship following her home. Her sway was like the pied piper and I followed the tune. When she stopped to go up the steps to her house, I was a bit confused. I thought one of my old college buddies owned that house and if I wasn't mistaken, still lived in that house. When I also noticed the "room for rent" sign on the window my mind started spinning. How much money could I save if I were to share rent with other people? My conscious mind was thinking about saving money, my unconscious mind (aka: dick) was thinking about sweet relief. I flipped open my cell and called; forgetting my earlier thoughts of analyzing the details.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

I haven't heard from Matthew in a good three weeks,

okay, 21 days, 16 hours, and 22 minutes

and I'm starting to get withdrawal symptoms. I have actually gone through moments where I play the answering machine recording over and over just to hear his sweet voice. I was pondering my misfortune when Jake, my roommate, came to tell me that he rented out the room we had available. Said it was one of his old friends and that he was positive we would get along. I had been living in this flat for over 3 months now and it is a great find. The only rule is: no hooking-up with the roomies. Both my roommates are lifetime scholars and really geeky -- super sexy, but geeky -- in the 'working till late in the lab tonight' or 'Exchange-rate risk by implied volatility'

what?

geeky way. One is into science; the other is into foreign markets. Both are awesome and I totally would have dated both of them in another life and of course, if I was in another flat.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Moving into my old bud's house was an easy decision after A.) he told me the rent

which is half the rent I am paying now

and B.) spending 2 weeks thinking about how much Dee wants me

and the thought of her lips around my dick

.

I kept going back and fourth and thought it best if I kept my distance until I knew more. It has been three weeks now and it is safe to say I know more. I have all my stuff in my truck, I am parked outside my new place, and now I need to find the nerve to face her again. I didn't tell Jake that I kissed his roommates nether lips, or the fact that I have had three very wet dreams since that night - or, and most importantly, the fact that I want more…

I heard his rules of no roomie hook-ups…yadda, yadda, yadda, let us see if my dick listens.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I hear commotion down stairs and know that the new roommate has arrived. I hear male voices; Jake and Kyle and…it must be another male if I am hearing correctly. My curiosity is peaked when I hear someone say, "I have more of my stuff in the truck." I know that voice…

It is my voice. Mine. Not technically, but you get the idea.

What is that man doing with my voice?

I fly down the stairs with my new found wings and I glide to a stop in front of Jake and Kyle. "Who is the new guy?" I say, trying not to sound too eager to hear his name. Just as Kyle is about to say it, Jake interrupts and says "Matthew, I would like you to meet Dee."

WHAT?? WHAT?? It really is my voice!

I whip around and my jaw drops, but I catch myself just in time, trying not to look too startled in front of my roomies. "Matthew…is it?" as I move forward with my out stretched hand, "I look forward to getting to know you." My eyes squint with my frown and lock on his eyes and he knows I am thinking evil thoughts of revenge.

How could he surprise me like this? Where was he for the last three weeks? Why didn't he call?

It is like he is reading my mind when he raises his eyebrows, as if challenging me, "I am your servant…tell me, where do I put my stuff."

I'm sure my roomies thought he was being funny as they laughed at his 'personable skills' and willingness to fit in. I didn't answer, just quickly turned around and went back up the stairs. I'm sure he will figure out where to put his stuff without my help

God, I hope he does!

, I have too much to do now. I have to plan my attack!

"Tell me where to put my stuff…mmm hmmm… tell me where to put my stuff." I can think of a few places!

"I am your servant?"

OH FUCK YOU with those words, my pussy is wet! "I am your servant!". Damn my body and damn his addicting voice. Damn my wet pussy and damn my damn thoughts! Damn! Damn! Damn! What am I going to do? He isn't my servant. From the reactions of my body and my mind, I am his!

I run into my room and close the door. Bee-line it straight to my toy drawer and decide to relieve some of this tension once more.

Which isn't a surprise; I have gone through a million batteries since the first time I heard his voice. I am becoming a pro at personal manipulation.

I grab one that I am just now starting to experiment with a waterproof vibrator shaped just right to hit my g-spot as well as a beginner sized anal piece to tease if not please. I wonder what he would feel like, as he pleased me -- and didn't tease me?

Oh hell yes, I would. I can imagine it now -- hot, hard, and the ohhhh so full feeling. The thought of it makes me crave what I only wish I could have.

I start the shower, turn on the switch, slide it home, close my eyes…. and you are there.