My name is Leah. If you were to meet me, you'd think I was a shrewd prude who'd snub her nose at anyone who would bother to say, "hello." In fact, I've been told that I'm intimidating, and that I give off an allure that screams man-eater. I suppose, if that were your assumption, you'd be partially right.
I'm an artist by trade, which means most of my time is my own, as I work commission to commission. I work fast and can't slow down. For an artist to flourish, passion is a must, and I have no shortage of passion these days. I'm unbound by the corporate world and free to do as I please. No concerns for how I could be perceived. However, this wasn't always the case. I used to be shy and bound by the very person who gave me this freedom, myself.
I often reflect on the days, only a few years ago, when my shackles began to break and I was able to blossom into the woman I am today. The memories, to this day, still send a wave of heat through my body, and m8ake my breath quiver with excitement.
My boyfriend and I had just moved, practically across the country, back to his home state. The planning wasn't great, and our apartment was far from ready for us to move in, and the jobs we had secured had fallen through. The air was always heavy with stress. We were both in our mid twenties, I was 24 and he was 27. The ages where we thought we knew everything.
His parents were not thrilled to have us staying at their place, for whatever reason, -- although it was clear that it had something to do with me -- so we crashed at his friend Jake's apartment. They had known each other for a long time. Long enough to call themselves brothers. I had met him a few times, and we often shared texts back and forth. There was some flirting, but nothing too saucy, but perhaps there were a few suggestive gifs here and there. Our playful banter never raised any alarms with my boyfriend, who was always saying, "flirting is healthy." I agree now, not sure if I did then.
A week in, the stress of making the move work for us had worn on our relationship. My boyfriend and I began fighting over stupid shit. After a while it broke us down and I suggested that he go stay with his folks for a week to cool off and allow us the peace to figure it all out. A tough but mature decision. He agreed and we decided to take a break. We loved each other to understand that this was not an end to all we had developed together, but just a reset.
After he had gone. It was me, Jake and his roommate, a redheaded party girl, who I was sure was creeping between my Jake's sheets every other night. And by sure, I meant that me and my boyfriend had fucked on their couch while listening to their matches.
I spent the next day, after my boyfriend had left, continuing my job hunt and it was tough to say the least. I felt like such a freeloader, but Jake and his roommate were always joking and making me feel welcomed. I felt like a member of the pack and never a burdent.
Jake would text me during the day, with the usual flirting and I'd also get some messages from his roommate. I'll just refer to her crazy ass as Red, since that was her preferred call tag then. I didn't even have any real thoughts on the matter, but discussing it with her, I had realized it had been a minute since I last had a good fuck. It was always good with my boyfriend, but he always treated me with love and care. That carnal and animalistic attention was a bit more sparse in the past few years.
Red: "Sorry if I woke you up last night. We were really into it and I could not hold back! Ugh."
Me: "Lol, it's your place. No reason to feel sorry. Sounded like a fun time."
Red: "Ngl, the fact you could hear us was so hot. Really got me worked up!"
Me: "Really? Well, glad I could help? Lol."
Red: "I think Jake liked it too. Think that might have been the hardest he'd pounded me in a while. Shook all over."
Me: "Sounds amazing."
I couldn't believe I sent that message. I felt like I came off as the most thirsty slut in town. But I, for some reason, against my normal disposition, didn't give a shit. The thought of a dick ramming my wet hole while I was pinned down just sent a thrill through me. My boyfriend hadn't roughly fucked me since the move.
Red: "Haha, it was. Felt like I was going to split in half. Y'know, you could have come in, right?"
Me: "Huh?"
Red: "Sorry, was that too much? I'm just really horny like all the time and you have a rockin' bod."
I could feel myself blush reading her message. The forward flattery and the dirty talk had me more open than I was accustomed to. It took me back to when my boyfriend had first started talking to each other.
Me: "Well, thanks. And no worries. It is a very hot concept. I bet you guys look great together."
Her response took me by surprise. Rather than a message back, she sent an image of Jake's cock. The thing was a monster and he must have caught it while edging, or something, because it was leaking precum like the drool of a hungry ravenous beast. I became consumed by a desperate desire to taste it.
Me: "Holy fuck!"
Red: "I know, right?"
I was kind of brain dead for a moment, and words of any poetic or cognizant nature had left me. At that moment, I wanted to feel that cock in any one of my holes. I imagined gagging on it, pounding my pussy, or stretching out my asshole. I wanted to feel it throb and twitch as it exploded inside me. Feel the weight of it throb against my walls. I was going crazy.
I was in the apartment by myself and before I even realized what I was doing, while practically salivating as I fixated on the image of that beast of a cock, I had slipped my hand underneath my jeans and began to rub my clit right there, on the couch in the open space of the living room. I had been playfully flirting with a guy who was hiding something so impressive this whole time?
Red: "Wanna know something special about that pic?"
Me: "What?"
Red: "You're gonna think it's ridiculous."
Me: "Tell me."
Red: "It was taken to this..."
She followed up with a picture from my Facebook profile. A picture of me in my bikini sitting by the pool, hair wet and water beading between my tits.
A jolt of excitement was sent through me, and I slipped two fingers inside me. I curled them to hit my weak spot. That cock was desperate and hungry for me. All for me. My heart began to flutter as euphoria set in. The effects of feeling attractive and like a symbol of desire was captivating.
