Carla 12

Carla

Is it wrong to get involved with a housemate's girlfriend?

"Geez Titus, we should have held out for someone who would last all year."

"Jenkins was a nice guy, but in hindsight we should have passed on a guy graduating mid-year. But he needed a place."

"And we needed someone to share the rent. It was a lot easier when we lived in the dorm. We didn't anticipate this situation."

"Yeah, but who could get any work done with all that noise at all hours. We needed some quiet. This townhouse gives us room to spread out and study without having to go to the library. Plus we don't have to factor in the time it takes to get to the library and the parking nightmare, just to study."

"And with the upstairs bedroom if one of us needs to stay up late the other isn't bothered by lights on. Being in a place with families around means it's pretty quiet at least. But now we have to get someone to take up the slack with part of the rent or we can't keep this place."

"Here's hoping that notice we posted in the Student Union gets some response."

Titus and I collapsed on the sofa and stuffed chair (with the slipcovers his mom made for us to cover the 'Early Salvation Army' period furniture we got at a yard sale).

"I swear, if we get another deadbeat responding I'm going to scream."

"I don't know why guys who have no money and no job answer an ad for a place where we clearly state we need someone to split the rent and utilities. We can't handle freeloaders."

"Everything is budgeted tight so what we have can get us a place like this."

"With a little help."

"But if we have to pay full rent and utilities, we'll use up our cash reserves before the lease is up. Then we're screwed."

"I'm willing to work, but with the home stretch of research and thesis writing I don't have a ton of time. At least you're a TA and get something monthly."

"But not enough. It will get us groceries and such."

"There's the doorbell. Let's hope it's someone who can really fill the need."

I opened the door to a guy a bit older. I guessed late twenties or early thirties.

"I'm Clement. I'm here to look at the room you have."

"Are you a student?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Nah. I manage a restaurant. Never got to college. Learned to fly and did some work for a cargo company. Not bad pay, but the schedules were grueling. My brother worked at a restaurant and I went with him for a while. I liked it and now own and manage an Arby's. I like it although sometimes the schedule is a bitch when help doesn't show up and I have to fill in."

"So, you understand how it is to hire help and all."

"That's something I do."

"Then you'll understand what we're doing is sort of like that. We need someone dependable."

"I get you. Let's have a look at what you got."

We led him upstairs to the front bedroom.

"Looks good. Furnished and everything. Looks nice."

"If you have a good job why are you looking for a place to stay?"

"Been staying with my girlfriend. The landlady didn't like our arrangement and kicked us out. We figure when the students leave for the summer we'll find something more permanent."

"She coming with you?"

"If you have no objections."

Titus shrugged his shoulders and it didn't seem a deal breaker to me under the right conditions.

"Okay. We don't care what you do with your girlfriend as long as you don't party."

"We're not the type to party like that. We go to a club or bar or something to party." He laughed "Let somebody else clean up afterward, ya know?"

"Indeed I do. Got the first month's rent?"

"Thought you'd ask about that. You gave a round figure on your post."

"We got rent, electric and internet. Rent includes water. The place comes with a washer and dryer and you can use and the kitchen. I cook for the two of us." I jerked a thumb in Titus' direction. "Titus is helpless in the kitchen. We split the cleaning chores for the common areas, but you are responsible for your own bedroom and bathroom."

"Works for me."

He wrote a check and left, saying they'd move in in the morning.

They hauled suitcases and personal items up the carpeted stairs and into their room. I was on campus and Titus said they didn't need help, and left them alone.

That night in our room Titus shook his head. "Man, that girlfriend, Carla, is something."

"You got a girlfriend, so keep your eyes to yourself."

"I know better than to mess with any other guys' girl. Besides, Helen would kill me."

Clement did work odd hours and Carla had some sort of job at a clothing store, so we didn't see much of either of them. As long as the rent checks were on time we didn't care.

Clement worked one Saturday and Titus was off to the library for some actual research that had to be done there, so I went to do laundry, finding Carla already at the machines.

"Sorry. I'll come back later."

"No, no. I'm through with the washer, so you can use it while my stuff dries."

I couldn't help noticing her as she bent over the machine. Titus was right, she was good looking. I saw a mass of black hair piled up on her head and a slender body she didn't mind showing off in short shorts and a tight tee shirt. Maybe a touch too much makeup. But there was something...off about her. I couldn't put my finger on it, but the girl gave me the impression she wasn't entirely happy. Still, it was none of my business.

I cooked for Titus and me, but sometimes what came out was too much and was something that wasn't good warmed up. On such occasions we invited out two new housemates.

It was just such an evening, and the four of us sat around the dining room table (after I moved my thesis stuff to a pile on a chair).

"Hey Clement. You said you worked for a cargo company. Which one was it?"

"Flying Tigers."

"Flying Tigers? I though they disappeared long ago."

"They worked with the military during the wars. After Korea they turned commercial. Eventually FedEx bought them. A few pilots kept some of the old planes FedEx didn't want going for a period of years. I flew one of the old prop planes. We did some contract work for the government, with the old logos removed from the planes. Most of the time we didn't even know what we were carrying and often it seemed rather clandestine. I flew to countries I didn't even know existed. The old planes were gradually phased out for jets and I'm not licensed for jets."

"Sounds lucrative."

"Oh, it was. But I got a bit edgy about it. I worried we were going places where we could be shot down. In a way I'm glad they brought in the jets and I had a graceful way out."

He chewed for a few moments before adding, with a wave of his fork "So I worked with my brother, but put some of my savings into the Arby's franchise. Along the way I ran into this doll here."

Carla smiled real big and leaned over to kiss him.

"Is she a keeper, or what."

I looked at her and didn't detect any of the unhappiness I thought I saw a few days earlier, chalking it up to tiredness.

One thing about them that Titus and I both noticed was that they fucked like rabbits. Never out in the open, but there was no doubt about the sounds coming from the room. It's a good thing we are an end unit with no neighbors on the side next to their bedroom.

A couple of months into our arrangement Carla and I were in the house together and we chatted in the living room. She definitely had a bruise on her face. She tried to hide it with makeup, and I wondered if there was a reason for the heavy makeup other than she thought she looked better wearing it. But still -- none of my business. Maybe the sex got a bit rough sometimes.

One afternoon I was walking around taking a break from my thesis and she sat hunched over in the big soft chair with her chin on her hand and an elbow on her knee.

"Cheer up, Carla. Things could get worse," I joked.

She raised her gaze to me and I was immediately sorry for the joke. "Look, Carla, I'm sorry. I was just trying to lighten things up a bit. Anything you want to talk about?" I plopped onto the sofa and leaned toward her. "Seriously. I had a girlfriend once who said I was a good listener."

She sighed. "I don't know what to do."

"Something about Clement?"

She shrugged. "It's my problem. I'll figure it out."

"The offer to listen remains open."

I clued in Titus and we kept our eyes and ears open. Carla was just so likable that we didn't want anything to happen to her, yet Clement seemed okay.

We noticed the little digs first. The 'jokes' at her expense. The occasional insult. Yet there sure was a lot of PDA.

I was up late doing revisions until I couldn't stand it any more. Why do committee members make suggestions for changes and then after you make them suggest putting it back the way it was? Or one makes a suggestion and another makes an opposite one. I'm convinced anyone who graduates from college is intellectually capable of handling graduate work. You just have to have the mentality where you can put up with a lot of shit.

As I reached to top of the stairs I heard them. He clearly said "you call those things tits? Here look at this one here. Now, THOSE are tits. You think yours are gonna grow any more? And that pussy isn't much to look at."

"It seems to be able to hold you."

"Ah, you little slut. Let''s see about that.."

I froze in my tracks. That didn't seem to be normal, but then again there are a lot of sexual role playing things I'm not into. Within a minute I could hear him slamming into her, grunting with each thrust. I stood in the hallway at the top of the stairs, not wanting to eavesdrop, but they were kind of loud.

"Now clean me up like the little slut you are. Come on! You call that tongue action? That's better. Fuck if I know why you haven't learned yet. May I need to trade you in for a newer model."

I hurried into my room in case he got hungry and went down to the kitchen for a snack.

The next day Titus shook his head when I told him. "I agree it could just be part of what they do, but it makes him sound like a louse. We can't afford to kick him out or alienate him to where he leaves us in the lurch."

That's where things stood for the next couple of weeks. We could still hear their activity, but voices were muffled. Neither one of us wanted to go put an ear to their door. In a living situation like ours we had to respect each other's privacy. When Helen came over to visit Titus I found something to do at the library so they could have the bedroom to themselves for a few hours.

It was a rare occasion where Helen's suite mates in her off-campus dorm were gone for the weekend, and Titus spent the weekend with her. Carla sat in the living room wrapped in a thin bathrobe.

"Waiting for Clement?"

She shook her head. "He has to work until closing tonight."

"I'm making myself a milkshake to help clear my head. Want some?"

She fastened her big brown eyes on me for a moment and nodded.

"I got chocolate, peanut butter and bananas to go with the ice cream. I find it a great combination, but I'll make whatever you want."

"That sounds good."

She drank the milkshake while walking around the table looking at the scattered pieces of my thesis. "This looks complicated."

"It wouldn't be so complicated if my committee would make up their minds about how I should word it."

"Titus is gone for the weekend?"

I grinned. "He and Helen have been waiting for this weekend. Something tells me they aren't going to be leaving her room much, if you know what I mean."

Carla nodded and handed me her empty glass to put in the dishwasher, and went to the living room, only to pace around.

"What's up, Carla?"

She faced me and thought for a moment, finally taking a deep breath. "Is your offer still open?"

"Sure, I'll listen to whatever you want to talk about."

She turned and headed toward the stairs, crooking her finger for me to follow. "There's something I want to show you."

I expected her to show me something in their room, but she turned left instead of right at the top of the stairs, heading for my room, pausing at the doorway. "I'm guessing the left side of the room is Titus'."

I laughed at the piles of clothes. "Oh you've heard stories about his messiness? I don't know how he always looks so put together. I don't know how he knows what's clean and what's dirty. He hardly ever makes his bed."

With a nod she strode over toward my side of the room, shrugging of her robe. I stood slack-jawed looking at her bare back and teeny pink panties. Beside the bed she turned to me.

"Um, Carla, are you sure this is what you want to show me?"

She hooked her thumbs on the waistband and pushed the panties down, revealing a bare vulva with a small black rectangle on the mons. "What do you think about what you see?"

"Holy crap. I always thought you were pretty, but...holy crap."

"What does this make you think about?"

"Um, oh I think about things all right. I also think I have no business messing with another guy's girl. What if Clement..."

"He works until closing tonight. I strongly suspect he will then bang his assistant manager. He'll be late. It's just us. Now what do you think?"

I stammered and stuttered until she walked up to me and reached for my crotch. "I think you are having some ideas about what you'd like to do."

"Jeez, I don't have time for this. This is wrong on so many levels."

"Do you know why I brought you here? Because I think I can trust you. Can I trust you?"

I nodded dumbly.

"Good. There's something I need for you to do." As she said it she pulled my tee shirt out of my pants and tugged it up. Without speaking I raised my arms and she pulled it off, tossing it aside. After a pause she unbuckled my belt and fumbled on the button holding my jeans closed.

"Do I have to do this all myself or are you going to help me here?"

I undid the button while she unzipped me and my jeans dropped. I managed to push down my underwear. The place has plush carpeting and we all go around the place barefoot so there weren't any shoes to fiddle with and I stepped out of the clothing gathered around my ankles.

Carla pulled down the bed covers and stretched out on the sheets, patting beside her for me to join her. "What do you want to do?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want to feel something. I mean something other than your cock inside me. I want more than that."

I can be a bit dense at times, but I thought I got the idea sex wasn't satisfying for her. Maybe Clement was all 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am.'

Something didn't feel right about giving her a lot of kissing on the mouth, so I started with her cheek and moved to her neck. Things became clearer when she tipped her head back and to the side for me to have better neck access.

Carla liked the neck kisses and I tentatively cradled a breast, massaging gently. A thumb on a nipple hardened it.

I moved my kisses down her chest to the valley between her breasts and caressed the other breast. One hand wandered down her abdomen to her navel and circled it. Kisses circled a breast, spiraling upward until I took a rosy tip in my mouth and stroked the nipple with my tongue. She rested a hand lightly on my head and stroked my hair. I momentarily took my eyes off her breasts and glanced at her face, seeing her eyes closed.

She really liked the breast attention so I kept one hand there and kissed my way down to her navel, displacing the hand from there and freeing it to caress down to the small patch of hair, brushing it. Side to side, up and down, she liked it all.

From there my fingers trailed down over her mons to brush her labia. The lips weren't as prominent as some I've experienced, but they were quite wet. Instead of immediately plunging a finger into her vagina I traced the outline of the lips and fingered the small exposed part of the inner lips. Gradually I slid the finger deeper, taking time to gradually work up and down the length of it. She arched her back when I found her clit, and her breathing quickened.

I kissed my way down from the navel into the hair and to the top of the vulva, inhaling her personal scent. A finger slid into her and when my tongue slid between the lips I sensed her gripping the sheets, whimpering. Curling my finger inside her brought her hips off the bed.

Sucking on the labia and clit made her begin to thrash until she went rigid and relaxed several times. Her abdomen clenched and I felt a rush of wetness on my tongue and around my finger.

Somehow it never occurred to me to fuck her. It was enjoyable to give her such obvious pleasure. When she totally relaxed, gasping, I slid up beside her and gently massaged a breast, leaving the sensitive nipple alone.

We stayed like that for several minutes before she turned to me. "That's what I wanted to feel. Thanks."

"You never have an orgasm?"

""Uh uh. He gets what he wants. Most of the time."

"I don't mean to pry, but you two are rather loud at times. It sounds pretty active in there.

"He likes active. He likes it hard.

"Again, we don't eavesdrop, but sometimes we hear you."

She nodded. "He likes to hear me. He likes compliments. Mostly I fake orgasms." She bit her lip as she considered something. "Okay, here's the thing. Sometimes the roughness gets too...physical for me."

"Is that why we see bruises sometime?"

She laid a hand on my chest, lowered her eyes and hesitated before murmuring "Yes. I always hope nobody notices." With a sigh she added quietly "I said I wanted to show you something. I'm going to ask a question and I want an honest answer."

I trailed fingers over the smooth skin of her body.

"What do you think of my boobs?"

"They're perfect for you. You're slender and they seem just right to me. Is that a problem?"

"What about...down there? What do you think of that?"

I knew what she meant, and touched her, pressing a finger lightly between the folds. "Nothing wrong here that I can determine."

"Isn't it...small?"

"What the hell? If a cock fits it it's not too small. I mean, its...stretchy."

She shook her head. "I mean the way it looks. Nothing sticks out."

"Who worries about that? Everybody's different. There's no perfect." I propped an an elbow. "Let me tell you a story. When I lived in a dorm there was a guy obsessed with breasts. He claimed to have seen hundreds, and made up a classification system. I swear. He had four basic shapes, I think he called them cones, hemispheres, bowl shaped and purse shaped. We all scratched our heads on that last one. Turns out he saw an old lady paying at a checkout counter. She pulled out of her pocketbook a sort of cloth bag with clasps to hold it shut. I've seen them called coin purses. That was the inspiration for the shape he was trying to describe. They hang down a bit. Once he had the shapes he had sub-classes based on size and firmness. He sketched an elaborate chart and after every date he'd announce where that girl fit on the chart. A real weirdo. But there was something to it. It showed how everyone is different in shape, size and firmness."

"What would I be?"

"I didn't memorize his chart, but if I had to hazard a guess I would guess maybe hemisphere, firm and...maybe medium size. I was never clear on the difference between hemisphere and bowl shapes. They looked a lot alike to me, but he swore there is a difference. He said bowl shapes weren't as round."

That made her smile. I hoped it helped her see she wasn't abnormal.

"Look, some guys like great big breasts, no matter the shape. Size is all important. To me, I'd rather see a real girl walk down the beach in a bikini than one who looked like she had volleyballs on her chest. This is me being honest."

Her hand caressed my cheek. "Thanks."

"But you asked about the other. I don't have a ton of experience here, but have observed a few girls at close range, you could say. There was one with a clit that stuck out like the eraser of a pencil. Honest. Another had inner lips that expanded when she was excited. You could actually see the outlines in her underwear. Based on dorm bull sessions I suspect yours may be closer to average."