Ate and the Flatmate

I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it's too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ's.

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100's of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he'd have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

The fact is, I wasn't all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn't just attractive, he'd struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It's all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

As the weeks had gone on, I'd found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents' divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they'd be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn't work out you've bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

In my mind, I'd decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but in the end I'd decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we'd be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie "Letters from Juliet." In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

The movie was of course a romance. One I'd wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn't write; didn't have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn't think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience. With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn't comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I'm happy to say that due to the owner's co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I've left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

*****

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn't be peaking.

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. "Down boy" I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn't spread apart.

"Are you going to watch the movie?" She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I've seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I'd never felt before.

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated. The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she'd squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I'd felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn't said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn't noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she'd not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate's pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It's easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It's not as though I'm normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that's on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate's a flatmate, and indeed, I'd like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

And part of what I didn't want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn't pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn't pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

The next thing I know is I feel Kate's head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other's mouths.

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little "ohhh's" soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn't know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn't completely sure of Kate's attitude.

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn't want it to be the end of it.

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy's cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she'd emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

Now the onus was on me.

The "ohhh's" were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged "ooooohhhhhh", she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged "ooooohhhhhh", it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes.

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate's panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

"Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?"

"I think my bedroom a bit tidier."

Kate wasn't wrong in that. If I know a girl's likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate's was immaculate.

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

"I think we might get rid of these."

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.