"Under the blankets."
"That's alright then. I put them back on under there too."
"Yep. You remember why you took them off?"
"Ah, nope. Oh, God!"
"You were... excited."
"No."
"Yes. I have a video tape in the lab with an interesting sequence, where you have a big boner, and are lying on your back. The bed looks more like a tent."
"Oh, no."
"I'm told."
"You haven't seen it?"
"No. I decided it would be better to be able to give you hell, and then take the high moral ground."
"Oh. Thanks?"
"Uh huh. They are in hysterics down there, you know."
"They are? Oh, Mel, am I banned now?"
"Banned? Don't be daft. You can guarantee there will be chicks watching the video the next time though. You should have taken my advice."
"I thought I did."
"You were wrong, Rob."
"So it seems. I have to go to work. I think I'm embarrassed, but I'm pleased it was you that told me, and not someone else."
"Have fun Rob. Next time, maybe jerking off would be a good idea. Beforehand, of course."
"Oh, God."
He'd left me another meal. Chicken something. It was nice too. I ate that, and cleaned up the mess, watched television for a while, and decided I needed a bath. I liked a hot deep bath, with a book to read, a cold drink, and no interruptions.
I got all of those things ready, locked the doors, shut off most of the lights, and retired to the bathroom. As the bath filled, I took off my clothes, and threw them at the laundry hamper, missing as usual, and knowing that I'd need to pick them up later. I couldn't be bothered right now though, and kept removing and throwing until I was down to my knickers.
I checked the water, and it still wasn't full enough, so I stood there, waiting a bit longer. Purely by chance, I looked over at the full length mirror, and caught sight of myself standing there, just wearing white knickers. My body was a study in contrasts, I guess. Deep black hair, down around my shoulders, pale white skin, not much darker than the knickers. I could see a darker patch through the front of the knickers though, my pubic hair being the colour you'd expect.
Suddenly, as I stood there, a thought popped into my head. This must have been what I looked like when Rob caught me the other morning, though my hair would have been wet. I stood up straight, and walked a couple of steps toward the mirror, trying to see what he would have seen. Not bad, I thought. Not stunning, but not bad.
The bath was full enough then, and I removed the knickers, watching myself in the mirror as I did it, and tossed them into the hamper as well. The mirror was both anti-fogging, and adjustable, so I moved it in such a way that I could see myself from in the bath, and climbed in. My eyes never left the glass, and as I relaxed my bare ass onto the bottom of the bath, I could see my breasts floating half out of the water, the nipples erect, and being caressed by the waterline. I was stunned at how abruptly I was turned on, and as I watched myself intently still, I moved slightly, so that my nipples would sink under the hot water, and then reappear, water dripping from them, a delightful tickling sensation passing through my body.
I kept the subtle movement up for a while, and then somehow the sensation changed, and I had to grab my nipples and rub them, frantically trying to erase the itchiness I had caused. The feel of my fingers only intensified the sensation, and it hung in the balance between irritating and irresistible as I stroked and fondled, squeezed and pinched.
I looked up at the mirror, and saw my busy hands on my breasts, my dark nipples surrounded by inquisitive digits of pleasure, and a higher level of arousal stirred, between my legs. Keeping one hand busy on my breasts, the other snaked its way down my chest, stomach, navel, and on to the strange feeling pubic hair, normally so dry and wiry, but currently wet, and ticklish. As I felt my way through the crop of hair, small bubbles escaped to the surface, as though my bush were fizzing somehow, which is how it felt.
I pressed on past there though, my fingers sliding close to my clitoris, but deliberately avoiding it, plunging on inside me, dipping deep and feeling the wet heaviness that genitals have underwater. My fingers spread my vagina open, and hot water rushed in, swirling somehow within, and sending shockwaves to my brain.
As my fingers explored weightlessly inside, and my other hand took care of my nipples, I could feel myself lifting over the edge, stunned at the speed, ecstatic with the feeling, and I came. Big, sudden, and deep, I came. My legs clamped on my hand, my nipples suddenly wished nothing to do with my fingertips, and I shuddered to orgasm, my body lurching in the bath, water spilling as I jumped carelessly, my body out of control for the moment. I tried to relax, forcing my body back where it was, making my fingers remain motionless inside myself, and I opened my eyes.
I hadn't done it on purpose, but when my eyes opened, they were staring at myself, at the strange constriction of my facial muscles, at the outthrust breasts, the sweat, and the red skin. Watching myself deliberately now, I let my fingers move a little more, parted my knees, and started to stroke myself. I kept my eyes open, watching my own reactions in the mirror, wishing suddenly that I could see my vulva, and my fingers fucking it gently.
I daydreamed for a while, I guess, watching myself in the reflection, stroking myself with my fingers, and somehow my mind got back to Rob, and the stories about his erection. I'd seen his cock, as I said, but I'd never seen it erect. I wondered what it would look like, and thought about catching him leaving the bathroom, towel over his shoulder, hard-on poking holes in the air in front of him. I'd liked to have taken it in my hand, and rubbed it gently for him. I'd have liked for him to take it and rub me gently with it. I'd have liked him to be in the bath here with me, sliding it in and out of me slowly, patiently, carefully.
God, I could feel him doing it, my mind ignoring the fact of my fingers, and conjuring up this tall dark man hovering over me in the bath, his cock deep inside me, his lips on mine. I could feel his chest sliding across my nipples too, his voice in my ears, his breath on me, talking dirty, promising me how he would make me feel.
The whole time this was going on in my head, my eyes were glued to the mirror, and somehow I merged these two things together, and just became more excited. My fingers kept up the dance deep inside me, masquerading as Rob's penis, while my thumb escaped, and dragged repeatedly across my clit, hard with pleasure, loaded with energy, cutting with need.
The images in my mind, the reflection in front of my eyes, the feel of my fingers and thumb, and my other hand on my breasts, wasn't something I could take for long, and I shuddered to another sudden orgasm, stronger this time, deeper, and much longer. I collapsed in the bath, my whole body straining with contractions, and I finally closed my eyes, feeling rather than seeing now, and my body shook, over and over.
Eventually, I calmed down again. Whilst a part of me wanted to see if I could manage round three, the consensus was that I needed to stop, if for no other reason than to analyse what had happened. I slowly sat up, and removed the bath plug. That committed me to getting out, and I dried myself slowly, cleaned up the room, and stumbled to bed, tired suddenly, and slept.
I hadn't realised quite how much interest there was in the sleeping habits of my flatmate, and I was accosted on arrival at work on Tuesday. I took quite some pains to explain that we weren't 'like that', and that they'd seen more on the video tape than I ever had. They didn't believe me, which in turn made we wonder if my behaviour was making sense. I'd always been attracted to Rob, but after last night's adventures in the bathroom, I realised I really wanted something to happen.
Despite this, I had a really busy day, and largely blocked it from my mind, aside from an impromptu question and answer session at lunch. God, women are bad.
I finished late again, arrived home even later, and Rob had already left. He had made me some food though, so I ate that, and spent the evening in front of the television, before heading to bed reasonably early. And I slept. Soundly.
Wednesday started with a knock on my door. It was Rob, with a breakfast tray in his hand. I took it gratefully, and gave him my best quizzical look.
"Oh, well Melinda, I just got back from work, and..."
"Yes?"
"Well, my car is out of gas..."
"Uh huh."
"And... well I'm scheduled for another sleep at your lab."
"Oh, you want a lift?"
"Oh, yes please."
"Rob, you don't need to make me breakfast, just to get a ride to the office."
"No?"
"No, of course not, silly."
"Well, I don't mind."
"Neither do I, Rob, but don't feel compelled. Just do it if you want."
"Okay. I want."
"That's better. Lemme eat this, and then I'll be out."
"Cool."
"That'll give you time."
"Time, Melinda?"
"To jerk off." His face turned a fascinating purple, but he stood still, staring at me.
"Can't," he stated simply, after a delay.
"Can't?"
"Already did." I didn't think his face could go redder, but it did.
"You didn't have to tell me that, you know."
"I know Mel, but I was trying to see if it was more embarrassing for you, or for me."
"Oh. And?"
"I lost."
"Ha ha. It's not your fault. You know I have three older brothers. I'm not easily disconcerted. And a little bit of wanking is nothing. Relax."
"See what I mean? I'll leave you to your breakfast then."
He left the room, and I tipped my head back, and sighed. I might have been able to pretend it meant nothing, but I was hot as hell. If it wasn't for the wonderful breakfast tray sitting on my lap, I'd have taken care of myself on the spot. That would, of course, have given me the opportunity to tell Rob afterwards, and I wondered if I would have had the guts to. As it was, I ate the breakfast instead, and we both missed out.
The ride to work was uneventful. Rob was tired, and my mind was on the subtle change going on in our relationship. A change I liked, though I was unsure exactly where it was going. I wondered if Rob knew. In fact, if he even realised it was happening.
When we arrived at the lab, I left Rob to find his own way back to the sleeping room, and his coterie of lab-assistant groupies, and settled in to analyse another set of tapes.
The day passed without any excitement, the girls expressing disappointment both at lunch and again at the end of the day. Rob had slept without any of his previous antics, and I felt smug, knowing the likely reason, but vaguely disappointed as well, because I fully intended to look at the tapes this time, as the processing had been assigned to me for the next day.
