Lusty Roommates

I rolled into my parking spot, and half heartedly shut off the engine of my four door sedan. 'So ends yet another soul draining day,' I thought to myself. My job was that of your average everyday office schlub. I hated that office, from the grey carpet to those ridiculous pink fluorescent lights in the ceiling. I slipped my keys in my pocket, reached for my computer, and drew it from the back seat. My commute was at least a half hour in the morning, and if I was lucky, twenty-five minutes in the afternoon. This evening had been a particularly long work day followed by a short commute due to the lack of traffic at this hour.

I checked the clock on the radio. Almost nine. I found the handle, and opened the door. I watched as the digital display went blank, and the commercial for the new weight loss pill went silent. I trudged through the night, nearly a block, until I reached my building. I entered the lobby. "Fucking great!" I said as I read the out of order sign on the elevator door. I entered the stairwell dragging my feet. My apartment was on the third floor, and there wasn't much keeping me from collapsing on the stairs for a while. My whole day was barely tolerable, but the one thing that kept me pushing my weight up those steps was the girl who awaited me. Not my wife, not even my girlfriend, but my roommate and best friend, Alicia.

Alicia had lived with me for about a year up to this point. Her smile and manner were infectious, and I sometimes wondered if she realized how she got me through the week. We both had similar jobs, in opposite directions, and I always found myself wishing one of us could quit and go work with the other. It would make life so much better, but I never had the nerve to go through with it. Since the first day we met, we shared a mutual attraction. We are both fairly attractive people. She is a little more than five feet tall, and I a little under six. She had dark brown hair, and mine was light. Her face was cheeky with bright brown eyes that smiled, even when she didn't, and I had the features of a statue. Her body was slim, and tight, like that of a gymnast, while mine was muscular, but not particularly toned. We kept this attraction to ourselves; we certainly didn't want to complicate our living situation. I know I was attracted to her, but only once did I receive a confirmation of her attraction to me.

A few months before, we shared a car to a party in the burbs. We spent most of the evening apart, but when I went to find her, she was a little drunk. I sat next to her, and we made small talk for a bit. Then out of the blue, she leaned in and kissed me. I could smell the booze on her breath as she drew away. When I stood her up to take her home, she was laughing, and stumbling in her heels. When I got her back to the apartment, she collapsed on the couch, and we never spoke of it.

I finally reached the third floor, and found old familiar 319. The door wasn't locked, so I knew she was home. I strolled in through the kitchen, and set my computer on the coffee table in the living room. The light was on in the bathroom. "Andrew?" I heard her call out.

"Alicia?" I replied. I always called her by the European pronunciation of her name. Ah-lee-see-uh, four syllables.

"Okay," she shouted, "Just making sure it's you."

I hung up my overcoat, loosened my tie, and flopped on the couch. When I flipped on the tube, the food channel was on. I turned it away to something which wouldn't make me salivate. I hadn't had a decent meal all week, and I didn't have the will to fire up the stove. Just then I heard the door open, and the sound of heels clacking on the ground. I turned around with great surprise at what I beheld.

"What do you think?" she said, a tremendous nervous smile upon her face. I looked her up and down. Her hair was in loose tossed waves and curls, and dark red lipstick on her lips. A little eye shadow and blush here and there. She was pretty as always, but what threw me the most was her outfit. She was wearing what appeared to be a black leather vest, which ended before her belly button, and a black leather skirt, which ended six inched above the knee, and a chain around her waist. Her feet were bare, but for a pair of black stiletto shoes and her toenails were painted the same as her lips. I didn't really feel like drooling over her like I was, so I decided to make a humorous observation.

"Kinda slutty, don't you think?" I smiled.

She had a sneer on her face made of mock anger as she raised her middle finger in my direction. "I know it's slutty," she said, "That's kinda what I was going for."

"Then why the middle finger?" I asked.

"You don't tell a girl she looks slutty, you tell her she looks pretty," she said. Being the jokester I was, I couldn't pass this one up.

"Well, you're looking extra pretty tonight," I laughed.

"HA, HA," she said with extreme sarcasm.

"What are you dressed up for anyway?" I asked.

"It's for Jennifer's bachelorette party," she said, "She wants us to tease the stripper." She had her hands on her hips as she talked, achieving a very sassy look.

"Well, that might not work," I warned.

"Why the hell not?" she said, as if I were mocking her appearance.

"Well," I said, "because a lot of those guys are gay."

"Strippers?" she said, "Bullshit!"

"I'm serious," I said, "Who else would know what a girl wants to see."

"You are such a tremendous bull shitter," she said, as she turned to return to the bathroom.

"I'm not joking," I said, "I don't know where I heard that, but I'm sure I heard it from more than one source."

"Well," she said, "I guess we'll just have to find out."

"I guess so," I said with cool confidence. "Is that real leather?" I quickly changed the subject.

"Yep," she said, as she smoothed the skirt down over her thighs with both hands.

"I don't believe you," I said.

"Feel it," she said, as she walked over to me. She stopped to my right, with her belly right in my face. I reached up with my right hand, and pinched the bottom of the vest between my thumb, and finger. I squeezed and kneaded it. I stared at the small silver chain which dangled from her navel.

"Holy shit, that is leather."

"I told you," she gloated. She then turned around, and I heard a clack, clack as she went back to her room. She came back wearing an overcoat which when buttoned would cover her risqué ensemble until she got to the party.

She clacked her way around the couch, and plopped down next to me. She kicked her feet up right next to my computer on the coffee table, and began watching my channel surfing. She had her eyes glued to the screen; as if she were trying to decipher my personality by the way I flipped through channels. Perhaps she didn't want to make eye contact with me after our little exchange, but I rather doubt that.

Every few seconds I would look over and check her out. The overcoat was lying at her sides, and her smooth tan legs were crossed at her ankles. I could still see her bellybutton. She had a very tight, athletic body. Her breasts were small, and even in the low cut vest, you could barely call what she had cleavage. There was little chance of the vest forsaking her modesty, it was tight, and completely concealed her nipples. I was glad she was secure with her body. It meant she would spend the evenings in her underwear, without a care in the world. It's nice to have something like that to decorate your apartment.

I kept looking over at her, and finally she turned her head to me with a smirk on her face, and ice in her eyes. "What are you thinking about?" she pondered to me.

"If you want me to be honest," I explained, "I was just admiring."

"Admiring what, Andy?" she asked.

"Well Alicia, you stay in incredible shape." The smirk turned into a tremendous shy smile. Her face turned a shade of red, and the ice in her eyes turned into warm pools of bashfulness.

We didn't say anything more, she just watched me channel surf, until the clock struck 9:10. She stood up, and buttoned her overcoat. She walked behind the couch, and over to the counter. She grabbed her bag, and keys, and walked back behind me. "I'll be back around one," she said. Then she did something completely wonderful. She began running her fingernails through my hair, and smoothing my hair back. "Have you seen these heels?" she asked, "I expect a foot rub when I get home."

As she began walking toward the door, I turned and watched her strut, almost four inches taller than normal. "Can do," I said. She turned around as she reached the door, and smiled. Then, she just walked out without a word, but no words were needed.

I spent the rest of the evening preparing for her eventual return. First I napped until eleven, and when I awoke, I showered. I put on a fragrance, and set a bottle of oil on the table. I spent the rest of the night watching television until 1:05, when I heard the key turn in the door.

I looked myself over. I was wearing some shorts, and a t-shirt which adequately showed off my build. I was dressed to impress this young lady. At the time I wasn't even considering having sex with her. Not consciously anyway. I just wanted to arouse, and impress her.

I heard her walk through the door, and cast her effects to the floor. She discarded her shoes and walked over to the couch, and sat next to me. "Well, how did it go?" I asked.

"Well," she said, "let's just say, he's not gay."

"Oh, you are so dirty," I said, "What did you do?"

She went on the relay the events of the night to me. "When the guy got there, first, he was a lot shorter than I expected. Anyway, he went and he did his thing ya know, and when he was down to just his g string, we started messing with him." As she got to the gritty details, I could feel the swelling down in my shorts. "So me, and some of the girls, started unbuttoning our shirts, and he seemed to respond well, so we decided to get him naked." At this point I started breathing hard, and my heart was pounding. "Oh yeah," she said, as she kicked her feet up on my lap, "start rubbin."

I poured the oil on her toes, and she continued the saga. "So we surrounded him, and a girl got on either side of him and yanked his panties to the floor."

"Wow!" I said, as I rubbed the oil deep into her aching feet. "Then what?"

"Well," she continued, "Once he was completely naked, it didn't take him long to get a full hard on. Anyway, we took him to the side, and discussed it with him, and he seemed to be pretty cool with it, so we got him to cum on Jennifer". If I had been in the middle of a drink, I certainly would have spit it out.

"WHAT?"

"Yep," she said, "That Jenny can be a real slut sometimes. It was her idea ya know."

I met Jennifer a couple times, and she did not strike me as that kind of person. "He came on her?" I asked.

"Yep," she said, "right on her chin, it was pretty awesome."

"Jeez-us!" I said in disbelief.

She went on, "So we slipped him a little extra cash, and sent him on his way."

"Wow," I said again, "I thought that was just for the guys, I didn't know girls actually enjoy that."

"Well," she explained, "In the right situation, a lot of girls like it. It can be a very erotic experience."

"No shit," I said, amazed with her confession. I looked down at my shorts. I was just glad I was wearing underwear, or the erection I had surely would have made a nice tall tent, beckoning all circus goers.

I looked at Alicia. She was horny, I could tell just by looking at her. I could almost smell the sexuality rising off her skin like garlic. I decided to keep the discussion going in the direction it was. "Do you like it?"

She looked at me in disbelief that I had even asked. She raised her eyebrow, and averted her eyes from mine. She was clearly a little shy about sharing with me. "Well, it's like I said, in the right situation, it can be very erotic."

I prodded further, "So that's a yes, you like getting cum on your face." I squeezed her feet harder, as if I was driving the answers from her extremities.

"So what if I do," she said defensively, "It's natural, what's the problem with that."

"There's no problem," I went on, "It's natural, and good for your skin, you were honest with me, and I appreciate that."

Alicia was smiling, and her face was a new shade of red. She pulled her feet away, and stood up. I was afraid she was going to walk away, and things would be a bit awkward, but instead, she walked to the television, and shut it off. She was nervous, and tense, but it didn't stop her from doing what she wanted to do.

There she was about ten feet in front of me. She slipped off her overcoat, and let it fall to the floor. "Hold on," I said. She looked confused, and embarrassed, until I raised the remote, and turned on some slow jazz. She lifted her hand and plucked the top button on the vest, and there were two to go. She lowered her hand, and skillfully plucked the second button loose. Finally she liberated the third button, and the vest opened a little. She wasn't wearing a bra, and you could see a clean patch of skin from her neck to her waist.

She hooked her fingers in the vest, and slowly pulled it open exposing her breasts. They were quite petite, but very beautiful. No bigger than an A, each one was decorated with a reddish brown conical nipple, which jutted a little further than the natural curve of her breast.

She dropped her shoulders, and the vest fell to the floor. I was admiring her smooth perfect skin, and her very healthy body. She loosened the chain on the skirt, and slid a zipper on the side down. She shrugged her shoulders, and drew her hips in as much as she could, and tucked her thumbs into the skirt.

When she started sliding the garment to the floor, the first thing I noticed was how wide and beautiful her hips were. Then I saw a black leather strap running the length of her hips, which was tied on either side. The strap dipped down in the middle, and connected to a woven black leather pouch, which concealed her genitals.

"What an ensemble," I noted, as I studied the leather sling. She started walking over to me, smiling, but still a bit shy, and nervous. She went around the coffee table, and stood directly in front of me, with her feet straddling mine. Then, like I had always wanted, she put her left knee by my right hip and her right knee at my left. She straddled my body on the couch, and leaned forward. I began kissing her belly, and she started dropping down, onto my lap. I kissed her nipples, and sucked them gently. The sensation made her arch her back, and purr. She finally rested on my lap, and leaned in to kiss me.

Our lips met with fire, and electricity. I did not detect the presence of alcohol. This was a great sign. It meant she was doing this, and not the alcohol. This is how she felt, and her actions were not altered by any substance.

She drew away, and said, "I've been waiting for this for a while."

"You should've just asked," I said.

She leaned back, and I put my hands on her hips. Each of my hands found a tassel to pull, as she found something to pull on herself. She was tweaking her hardening nipples, while I pulled each of the knots loose. She sat up a bit, and put her right hand behind her back. I saw the garment disappear through her legs as she pulled it away from behind, and let it drop on the floor.

I savored the moment, because it didn't happen enough, there was a gorgeous naked woman on my lap. I reached up between her breasts, and felt her heart. It was racing, just like mine, so I pulled her in close, and kissed her some more. Then, I moved my lips around her face, kissing her right cheek, and then I whispered in her ear. "What do you want me to do?"

She leaned back, and smiled with embarrassment. Then in a torrid of mixed emotions, including lust and embarrassment, she told me. With a devilish smile on her face, she said, "I want you to fuck me, and then I want you to cum on my face."

"Alicia," I said, "you are so wild. It would be my pleasure."

She smiled, and rubbed my chest with anticipation. "Good, then let's get that shirt off."

"Yes, ma'am." I was willing to obey any and all of her commands at this point, so I leaned forward, and put my arms straight up. She lifted the shirt up over my head, and threw it behind the couch. She and I both knew what she had to do next, so I helped her to her feet, and pushed the coffee table away to leave more room on the floor. While I was standing, I took off my shorts, but not my boxer briefs, I didn't want to take all of the fun out of it.

I sat back down, and she positioned herself on the floor between my legs. She slid her right hand up my thigh, and over the white fabric of my last shred of modesty. She pushed her palm over the mass of hot flesh which was the result of my lust for her. She massaged me through the fabric, and my penis became increasingly hard, creeping its way down the leg of my shorts. She took a firm grip of my shaft, and put her teeth on it. I could feel the heat of her breath on my phallus, and it was wonderful. Eventually her curiosity got the better of her, and she had to take a look.

She hooked her index finger under the fabric of my shorts, and pulled up the left leg, until my penis was about half exposed. "There it is!" she said with glee. It wasn't very comfortable with my penis at that angle, but I decided to let her continue. She leaned in, and muzzled it. "Mmm, that's nice and warm." She then dragged her tongue over the head, getting her first taste. She ran her fingertips over it again, but she wanted more. "Up!" she said, "I want to see those balls."

I planted my hands by my sides, and using my legs and arms, I elevated my hips. She started sliding the shorts down off of my hips, and again, I savored the moment. When my penis was finally liberated from the waistband, it flung itself up, and landed on my belly. "Jeez," she said, "You've got a bit of a catapult down there."

I laughed, and said, "Yeah, maybe I could use it to flick popcorn into my mouth."

As she pulled my shorts down over my feet she chuckled and said, "I'll bet you could." I spread my legs once again, and she retook her position between my knees. "Damn, look at that thing."

"It's not that big," I said.

"It's plenty big enough," she assured me, "and it's so hard." She put her hand around the bottom of my shaft. She scooped up the bead of precum, which had pooled at the tip of my penis, and put it on her tongue, and smiled. While I was distracted she snuck her left hand up, and grabbed my balls. She squeezed a bit, a little too much in fact.

"Ahh," I said under my breath.

"Ohh, sorry," she said, "I got a little carried away. Let me make it up to you." As if she really needed an excuse, she planted her lips at the end of my penis, and slid them down as far as she could. I felt my penis reach the back of her throat, which is when she backed off a couple inches, and sucked, hard. I could feel the head of my penis expand in her mouth, as her tongue pushed up against the bottom. This was not her first blowjob.

It didn't take long, before I was close to cumming. It had been a few days since my last orgasm, and I was in need of a release. She sensed my proximity to orgasm, and released me from her mouth. "We can't have you going off too quickly," she said, with sadistic joy. "Come on, It's my turn."

So, we both stood up, and exchanged places. When she was settled, on the couch, and I was on the ground, I began to examine her goods. I looked at the intriguing patch of fur above her clitoris. It seems as though every other part of her vulva, and body for that matter, were painstakingly shaved, but this patch of fur it seems, never even saw the scissors. I looked down at her lips. She had thick meaty outer lips, and moist inner lips which protruded a bit from the crevice, like an intangible welcoming signal. I leaned in, and placed my lips on her clitoral hood, and my nose in her fur. I inhaled deep, and she shifted her hips. "Mmm, you like that," she cooed.