The Roommate Chronicles: Nate

One of the quirks of the house was that the shower was placed in the kitchen, in a tiled alcove next to the refrigerator. This had led to interesting breakfasts, dinners, and introductions to guests-- furthermore, because the only spot to keep a towel was a hook on the kitchen wall, the roommates were prone to snatching those towels as they passed, leaving the unfortunate shower-er to run back to their bedroom stark naked.

When Quinn had first moved in, the guys been careful and polite with her, but in the last few weeks, they'd started to tease her. She hadn't had to make the naked run through the living room and down the unending hallway. Yet. But now, she'd borrowed Nate's car and returned it with an empty gas tank, and she was in trouble.

"Please give me the towel," Quinn begged, her dripping golden head popping out from behind the navy shower curtain.

Nate was swinging her towel around like a lasso, teasing her. The kitchen was full: all the roommates were there; it was Friday after all, and just after 7PM-- this was when the roommates loosely congregated, snacking and making plans before going about their weekend festivities. Often, they had parties at the house. But not tonight.

Mason, Chase, and Tyler were at the counter eating a cartoonishly large pepperoni pizza, eyebrows raised. Luke and Reid had just returned from the gym, and were dropping their sneakers by the door. And Quinn was in the shower, red-faced, pinned there. It wasn't a bad scene, Nate thought, laughing. And he had no intention of letting it fade out before he could help it.

"I warned you," he singsonged, tossing Quinn's towel to Tyler, who flung it to Reid at the door. Reid almost looked sympathetic, so Nate sidestepped past him and snagged it back. The towel was lavender and patterned with flowers and it smelled enchantingly girly, like cotton candy and summer peaches.

"I'm sorry," Quinn pleaded, half-giggling nervously. "Come on, give it back."

"Down the hall, young lady."

"No way."

"Stay there til someone else has to shower then,"

"Nate, come on,"

"What'll you give me?"

"What do you want?"

Nate grinned. This was going well.

"Hey, hey," Tyler interrupted, gnawing on a pizza crust. "Don't be making any deals. Down the hallway, Quinny."

Quinn shot him a glance of ice-blue poison.

"How about a lapdance."

"No way."

"A thousand dollars."

"You're funny."

"Then off you go."

Quinn stomped her little feet, splashing. "I'm cold!"

Mason was handing out beers. Luke was pouring whiskeys. Music was bubbling up around them, loud and lively and neon. Quinn wasn't sure who'd put the record on. They had Friday nights down to a science: the vibe was effortless now, cozy and rambunctious and fun.

Mason held a beer out in the direction of the shower. "Want a beer, Quinn? Come on out and get it."

Quinn wailed at him. Reid, taking pity on her, snagged a Blue Moon from the fridge and stretched to press it into her waiting hand. She beamed up at him, all sparkling blue eyes and pouting lips. "You're the only one who's sweet to me." Reid grew three inches. "How about... a towel?"

Reid threw up his hands, faux-wounded at her pretense. He patted her cheek. "Not a chance, Q."

Quinn appealed to the whole court. "I have to get dressed. And my hair's going to dry weird."

Nate shook his head. "She left me without gas twice this week, gentleman."

"Down the hall!" the guys shouted, a rowdy chorus. "Down the hall!"

Nate tugged at the shower curtain. "If you don't go on your own," he warned her with a Cheshire grin, "I'm not above forcing your hand."

Quinn's blue eyes went round as saucers and her cheeks flushed pink. Her knuckles, clamped around the beer's neck, were white. "Come on, no," she begged.

Nate just grinned. Then, quick as a flash, Quinn jerked the shower curtain down off its hooks and took off down the hall, wrapping it around her as she ran, her tan legs bare and damp. The roommates hollered their dismay, but Nate chased after her, making her squeal as she tried to shut her bedroom door on him. He was too quick, too strong-- he brushed her aside and shut the door behind him.

Quinn's room was tiny-- baby blue sheets with a pile of lacy laundry spilling onto the floor, scattered pink and black shoes, a teddy bear on the bed. Quinn looked tiny and shy in it, shrinking away from him, wrapped in her shower curtain cape.

"You think you're going to get away with this, little girl?" Nate cocked an eyebrow at her. She shivered helplessly, looking anywhere but at his face. She'd always been a little shy with him. He loved that. It really made his dick hard.

Without considering his next move, Nate sat down on the foot of Quinn's girlish bed, sweeping her over his knees, shower curtain and all. She yelped, catching herself on her elbows and knees, her ass thrown up enticingly close to his face. He settled her over his thighs and jerked the shower curtain up over her ass in one clean slice. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her butt before: she wore thong bikinis sometimes; they'd even skinny dipped at a party once or twice. But he hadn't seen her naked quite like this, damp and flushed and pressed against him. It was a different, warmer thing. But he didn't hesitate. He dropped a quick spank on her left ass cheek, leaving a white handprint that then glowed peach.

Quinn yelped. "Nate! Oh my god, stop." She twisted to look at him, her blush as luridly rosy as the mark of his palm on her ass.

"Steal all my gas, take advantage of my generosity, and then you try to avoid punishment, huh?" Nate was grinning, teasing her, but his brown eyes were steely and his arm across her thighs was like an iron bar. Nate was strong: he played lacrosse, he did crossfit, he took pride in his body, honed and powerful and graceful as it was. He was perfectly confident in his strength, in himself. It radiated.

Quinn, caught in his net, was kicking her pretty legs in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she mumbled, twisting in his grasp, trying to get away. The movement had her squirming against his dick, the plasticky shower curtain shifting so the only things between their bodies were his briefs, his shorts. He could feel the soft flex of her slender muscles, the press of her sharp ribs and hipbones. Her ass was thrust up over his lap, heart-shaped and so smooth he wanted to bite her. The thought made his mouth water. Black bruises on that cute ass. Bite marks on the unbearably tender pale insides of her thighs. His cock hardened under her stomach and she stilled immediately, sucking in a breath.

Nate didn't pause, didn't give her reaction any acknowledgement. Instead, he took advantage of her stillness to spank her-- directly on top of the first slap, counterintuitive to what she'd expect and doubly painful. She shrieked. Nate wondered briefly if their roommates would come running. A moment passed; the music played on. They didn't.

"Hold still," Nate warned. Quinn stilled. He wasn't surprised. They'd never played like this, not really, but he'd teased her a hundred times before and he'd seen how she'd responded. He knew this was how she'd react. What she wanted. What she liked. Which was perfect, because it was what he wanted too. What he craved. And he could feel the pull of her want, the polar opposite of his, the perfect match. He'd felt it for months. Finally tasting it, even this little bit, felt cosmically, symbiotically, diabolically good.

Nate's callused fingertips traced hourglasses over the vibrating bruise he'd created. Quinn shivered. "Are you learning your lesson?"

Quinn nodded mutely. The song from the living room shifted, louder and slower, something jazzy and rich.

"Tell me."

"I'm learning my lesson," Quinn mumbled. Her cheeks were wine-red. He wanted to bite those, too.

Nate's softly stroking fingers traced down to her thigh, then jumped to the other side of her ass. The unscathed side. She trembled. "How many times should I spank you?" he wondered out loud. Was he teasing her? Quinn couldn't tell. She buried her face in her hands.

"Let's say three," Nate mused. He spanked her bruised cheek again, a good resounding smack. Quinn squeaked in protest. He laughed, then dropped the two remaining spanks on the untouched side. Quick and tidy. Her cute ass bounced at the touches. He could feel heat radiating from where he'd struck her. He ran his fingertips over the marks lightly, soothing her. He could feel the goosebumps rise on her skin. She turned to look back at him, flushed and adorably embarrassed, her blue eyes shimmering, her cherry lips glossy and pouting.

"There you go," Nate breathed to her. To his coiling, deep-seated pleasure, she sighed at his urging, at his approval for her to release. Testing his hold on her, he continued, nearly purring, "That's right."

Quinn sighed softly, her body relaxing where it draped over him. Nate pulled the shower curtain away from her entirely, dropping the crinkly mass away from them, letting the evening light wash over every inch of her sun-kissed skin. He ran his hand gently up the curve of Quinn's spine. Her dusky lashes fluttered closed for a long breath before she looked up at him with a little smile.

He dropped a sixth spank smartly on her right thigh. "Go get dressed. You're coming to a party with me."

Quinn's mouth dropped open a little. Nate kept his face perfectly blank as she glanced down at his lap. Then he winked at her. "Unless you want something else?"

"No, no!" Quinn jumped up, treating him to the sight of her full, perfect nakedness, and grabbed the shower curtain and her Blue Moon from the floor. She opened the door for him. "Okay, get out."

"I can't stay?"

"No way."

He lingered just long enough to make her blush again, then jumped up. "See you in five."

Quinn met him in the living room ten minutes later, dressed in a denim miniskirt and a little white baby tee, showing off her flat belly, her athletic legs, her summer tan. Her bouncy blonde curls had been brushed and fluffed, and her lips were sparkly and glossed.

Luke and Mason were bent over the foosball table, but they turned to look at Quinn when she skipped in. Mason whistled. "Where are you headed, kid?"

"Nate's party."

Luke and Mason turned, brows raised once more, to Nate, who grinned. "We'll be over at Cole Mackenzie's. Maybe we'll see you later?"

"Yeah, sure." Luke looked preoccupied, Mason more serious about the offer. But before either of them could follow up, Nate and Quinn swept out the door.

Five minutes later, Nate was smirking at her across the center console of his Jeep. "You look like you're in trouble."

Quinn wrinkled her nose, but looked no less caught. "I'm not in trouble."

He laughed out loud. "Well, *I* know that. Settle down. I'm not gonna ravage you. You've just been so serious lately. You deserve a night out. A little fun."

"A spanking's a little fun?"

"You didn't think so?" He flashed his teeth at her.

She laughed, cute and surprised. "Okay. It was a little fun." The late August light was thick and yellow, wrapping around them like gauzy scarves. Quinn was incredibly beautiful in it, golden and glossy as a magazine ad-- but better. Her front tooth was the littlest bit crooked. Her left dimple was a centimeter deeper than her right. And her knees were bouncing up and down with nervous energy. Nate wondered if her pussy was wet. What the state of her had been she'd climbed up off his lap. It had taken all his resolve not to see for himself. But he didn't want to rush things. Good games took time.

The party was like every party they went to: friendly and beer-soaked and full of laughter. Classes had just started a week ago, and the partiers were determined to have twice as much fun to compensate for this loss. There were kegs and bags of doritos and glow sticks; it was still early enough that people were sitting in semicircles, eating M&Ms and laughing at something playing on the TV at the front of the room. A few people were dancing on the patio. Smoke swirled, lazy and fleecily herbaceous, over the lot of them.

Quinn was fun at parties. People were swept toward her as if on a tide, and soon she was eating a handful of red M&Ms and lounging languidly on the arm of the sofa and looking, for all the world, like a girl who had NOT gotten a spanking forty-five minutes ago.

Nate liked to watch her. The way she moved was graceful and sexy. Her hair tumbled down her back in a waterfall bright as light on water. Her full breasts strained at her baby tee, peaked and delightfully round. She walked on her tiptoes, even given the little kitten heels she wore. She was lovely.

Nate was fun at parties too. He rolled the best joints. He had the best laugh. He was charismatic: confident and competitive and funny. Everyone liked him. Quinn liked him, too. He let her roam and mingle, watching her flit, fairylike, around the room. And then every so often he brought her a drink, a joke, a compliment, an introduction to someone he thought she'd like. She glowed under the attention. Under his hand, strong and gentle around the back of her neck, his thumb and fingertips brushing her throat.

By ten they were dancing, fizzy and sweat-slicked, swirling under the overhead light like moths. They'd been crossing paths, drawing closer and closer, that magnetic pull running its fingers over the both of them. Nate could practically feel her, so aware of her presence her outline seemed to be glowing orange in his peripheries.

The next time Quinn spun close to him, he grabbed her waist and spun her in close to him, chest to chest. He could feel her heart thudding. He could smell peppermint like ice on her breath, the sweet raspberry of her lip gloss. He leaned down and kissed her, caught her lush bottom lip between his and tugged, then let it go to press the softest, lightest kiss he'd ever breathed to her top lip. His hard cock thudded against her waist. And then he spun her away from him, back into the dance.

A few songs later, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, grinding into her, his breath a cool exhale against her neck. She arched into him. Her hands reached back to find the sides of his thighs, drawing him closer. They moved well together. They looked good together. He breathed her in, tugged at her hipbone. And spun her away.

And on and on they played, until they were both aching and breathing hard. Then Nate found Quinn's hand and pulled her into the tiny bathroom off the living room, closing the door behind them. He wrapped his hands around her little waist and lifted her up onto the counter, catching a glimpse of lavender satin between her thighs before she pressed her knees together. She smelled so good, all peaches and cream. He wanted to devour her. He gripped her thighs and dragged his hands down to her knees, then to her ankles, jerking them apart to hitch her legs around his waist.

She was so ready, those cute tits heaving, her legs so open for him, her mouth so red. He bent down and kissed those soft lips, his hand sliding up to grip the back of her slender neck. She sighed into his mouth. He drank her up.

"I'm not going to fuck you," he whispered against her ear.

She almost whimpered. "You're not?" Her baby blue eyes gazed up at him like she'd never looked at anyone else.

He shook his head slowly, his teeth still indenting her lip. Their noses brushed. He took her little hand and slid it to his belt, letting her feel the supple coolness of the leather. Her wrist brushed against the hard line of his cock. He breathed in sharply through his nose, tipping his head back. His throat was muscled. Quinn wanted to lick it.

Someone in Cole Mackenzie's house had taste, because the miniscule powder room was lit with a vintage, stained glass lamp: the result was charming. Nate took a second to admire that light, so warm it was almost syrupy, as Quinn leaned back from him, resting her head against the mirror, stretching her body long and lean in front of him. Nate brushed his fingers over her sensitive hipbones, dipping beneath the denim waistband of her skirt. She hissed softly. His palms slid up over her flat, tight stomach. His green eyes were bright and earnest beneath their lust. "Let me see you." He pushed the soft hem of Quinn's shirt up and up, feeling the swells of her tits as he kept his eyes locked on hers. She settled back, arching her back to show off for him. He let her wait. And then he looked.

And she was beautiful. Fuck, she was beatiful. Her skin was flawless, as if she'd been polished. Her tits were so round and lifted they almost looked fake. She was his teenage wet dream. Hell. She was his current wet dream. He bent to suck one of her little candy-pink nipples, tasting the delicate softness of her skin. She moaned, sinking into her touch like she was melting. He could practically taste her desire on her skin. His tongue curled around the stiffened little bud while he softly pinched and pulled the other nipple, making her whine.

"I know you want me to fuck you," he teased, teeth poised at her breast.

She nodded helplessly, embarrassed as a schoolgirl.

"Tell me."

"I want you to fuck me," she whispered.

He nipped at her gently. "Ask me."

"What?"

"Ask me to fuck you."

"Will you... fuck me?" Quinn blinked, half-dazed. He gaze a slow, leisurely lick along her areola. She whimpered. "Please?"

He laughed, so smug, so goddamn pleased. "You're so fun. I already told you I won't. Not tonight." He slid down to his knees, drawing her thighs apart. Her lilac panties were soaked, her thighs slick and creamy. He pressed his nose against the sopping cloth, breathing in the sweet, heady smell of her need for him. She shuddered as his tongue traced the same line down her core.

Nate held her legs firmly as he pulled the silk away from her cunt with his teeth. His mouth watered at the taste of her, like dark cherry wine and sweet cream. Her pussy was beautiful, swollen and slutty, her skin bare and smooth as the marble under her thighs. He lapped her up.

His cock throbbed as he lightly sucked her trembling clit, making its case so aggressively he almost decided to say fuck it, and take her then and there. But instead he let his tongue tell her how much he enjoyed her, keeping it relaxed and warm and loving as it probed and licked and teased her. He nipped softly at her thighs as he sank his thick middle finger into her cunt, wishing he could bury his teeth in her. (But. Slowly. Slowly. Good games take time.)

Quinn's cunt was begging for him. Her warmth and her wetness and her tightness yearned for his cock. Demanded it. Still, he waited. He turned his face up to hers as he twisted his finger inside her and curled it toward him. And just like he'd known she would, she dissolved. She cried out as she came, a warm gush of wetness soaking Nate's forearm, baptizing the black and white marble floor. Nate grinned as she shuddered and shook, then rose to his feet and, pocketing the lavender slip of her panties, kissed her on the cheek. "See you out there."

Quinn stayed in the bathroom for another ten minutes, clinging to the warm tile counter. She could hardly breathe. She could tell she smelled like sex, looked like it, even; no matter how much she smoothed her hair, she still looked just-fucked. And she hadn't even been fucked. Not really. Not properly. She huffed.

When she finally reentered the party, Nate was convened with Tyler, Luke, and Mason on one of the sofas. They smiled up at herd innocently, welcoming her. Somehow she ended up sandwiched between Luke and Nate. Nate swirled a fingertip over her knee as she sat down; when she dared to look at him, his grin was hungry and feral. She wondered how much of the color on his cheeks was because of her. If he still tasted like her pussy.

At the end of the night, Quinn rode home with Nate and was delivered promptly to her sweet little sky blue bed. As Nate closed the door after her, he sighed. He cock was still hard. But he knew what he was doing. These things took time.