Hey guys, here's my first attempt at romantic writing, so I have no idea if I can pull it off without your lovely feedback! There's probably some clichés thrown in along the way, but anyway, I hope you enjoy it, even if it does take a little while to gear up! Keep reading x x x Ps, Sorry if there's any typos, it's late!
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The living room was in darkness when I woke up suddenly from a nightmare. As soon as I opened my eyes the thoughts that had woken me evaporated into the air and I was left feeling panicked and disorientated, my eyes straining to adjust to the claustrophobic shadows.
I was on the couch, lying on my front with my face turned right, my right arm hung over the side. A thin line of drool escaped my lips, running down my chin and onto the rust coloured fabric. I looked towards the television, squinting as I tried to make out the time from the little glowing green letters on the VCR. 3:00 am. I turned onto my back and looked up at the ceiling. I couldn't see anything as my eyes refused to focus, so I let them fall shut. But now I was awake, I would never fall back to sleep again. My back was already protesting from lying on the too-old couch for so many hours.
I groaned softly and sat up, still a bit drowsy and rubbed my grey eyes with the heels of my hands. I wasn't covered by a blanket and was still dressed in the clothes I wore the day before. My black vest was rucked up and twisted, making my breasts and back feel itchy. Instead of adjusting it I took it off, letting the cool night air hit me. Standing up, I brushed down my low-slung black combats and walked towards the hallway.
I slowly crept up the stairs, missing the ones I knew would creek, so I wouldn't wake up my housemate, Ben. The hallway was a strange colour of orange and black, illuminated from a streetlamp outside. It made the usual shadows long and disjoined and I felt the familiar stab of fear whenever I felt threatened in the dark. It was a fear I had since childhood, feeling watched and yet alone, it probably stemmed from watching too many horror movies, but it still made me feel frightened.
I began to hurry along the corridor past the bathroom, and laundry cupboard. I stopped as I came up to Ben's bedroom. I could hear muffled music, either from the TV or stereo, it sounded as if Ben was listening to a very heavy metal band in his room. I grinned; memories of the bickering that went on between us whenever the topic of music came up. I preferred Oasis and he preferred Rancid. Arguing what was better provided hours of amusement and good-natured jibes.
His door was slightly ajar, realising I was indeed topless after a stray beam of orange light hit my gold nipple bar, I ducked away from his door, but not before I saw something that made my almond shaped eyes go wide.
Because the music was so loud, Ben hadn't realised his door was part way open, or that I had been moving around outside his room. What made me return my eyes to that slit in the doorway was the fact that Ben was on his bed, his naked body lit up by a small light that was on in the corner of the black-painted room. I watched with morbid fascination as he ran his hands down over his chest, tattooed arms long and sinewy, until he reached his engorged cock. With his eyes squeezed shut, and lips parted as he softly panted while he pumped his hand up and down in a steady rhythm.
My breath caught in my throat. Ben looked like a work of art anyway, thanks to his multitude of tattoos and piercings, but here, in the soft light, his defined body dappled in sweat as he worked himself into a frenzy, he looked more beautiful than any other man I had ever seen. Instinctively I rolled my pierced nipple between my fingers, shivering as goosebumps popped all over my hypersensitive skin. I could feel myself begin to get wet, and I ached to reach inside my combats and rub my clit until the burn went away. But I knew I had to stop, if Ben opened his eyes, and caught me peeking through his door, like some crazy voyeur I would have a lot of explaining to do.
Dropping my hand to my side I continued to walk along the hall until I reached my room. I could feel my heart thudding and my blood racing around my veins. I hadn't felt this turned on in a long time. Walking inside I threw the switch and winced as the harsh light pierced my eyes. Shutting the door with a soft click I walked over to my bed and sat down, kicking off the rest of my clothes until I was naked. I lay back against the cool sheets, Ben's music still muffled but pounding nonetheless ringing through my ears. Closing my eyes and sighing I thought about our relationship.
It had all started when I moved to Washington from England when I was seventeen. I originally went to visit my cousin Mike, who was staying there and who offered me a free place to stay for a few weeks. As soon as I arrived I fell head over heels in love with the East Coast, and knew that I had to stay. I quit college and my part time job and moved to Washington permanently, not knowing that Mike was preparing to come back to England. As soon as he told me, I panicked and realised that moving to some large and foreign country before I was legally an adult, was, even for me, a bit irresponsible. With a week to go before Mike left we went to a concert, where I met a few of his friends, including Ben. And even though he was seven years older than me we clicked right away, and as soon as I told him about my living situation he offered me the spare room in his house, as he had just split up with his girlfriend and needed some company.
I never had any remotely sexual feelings for Ben, and now just one year later I was lying on my bed, running my fingers up and down my moist slit, wondering if Ben had come, and what it would be like to see him do it, not to mention taste it. Reaching up to lightly pinch my throbbing clit I gasped as an orgasm quickly washed over me, my pelvis clenching almost painfully as my muscles worked together until I was sheathed in a light film of sweat. Panting harder, I let my eyelids flutter shut, feeling sleep approach and drag me back into my dreams.
Waking up five hours later, with gloomy October sunlight creeping in through the blinds I stared up at the ceiling. Seeing Ben this morning would be awkward, especially now I thought I liked him in a way that I know would freak him out. In most cases, even though he was a punk, he was incredibly shy around women if he knew they liked him. Living with an eighteen year-old wannabe punk would probably test his fragile heart to the limit.
Looking out into the murky corridor I heard the sounds of Ben making himself breakfast downstairs. I rushed into the bathroom and cleaned my teeth and showered in about twenty minutes. I knew I had to see Ben, and decide if I wanted to take things further than friendship, because if I did living with someone, who you know doesn't want you, can be difficult.
Back in my room I changed into baggy beige dickies and a tight bottle green vest top without a bra. The fabric clung to my well-filled breasts and my left nipple bar was easily seen, as was the few tattoos on my back. I didn't bother putting on much make up, apart from mascara as fiddling around with eye shadow and foundation can be a real pain when you have an eyebrow stud, not to mention a nose and labret ring. My shoulder length hair caused me the most time and effort. In the end I decided to twist it all up into little horns, the bright purple strands underneath contrasting with my natural dark golden blonde on top. After I finished getting ready I looked into the mirror for a few moment. I wasn't tall or short, I wasn't fat or thin. I was pretty much your average kind of a girl, with hair dye, piercings and a few tattoos. It took me from the age of twelve to seventeen to finally become comfortable with body, and myself and now I was expressing it in the only way I knew how.
