Continued from Part 3. Please read the other parts first then come on back!
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I started walking back to the apartment after about an hour, feeling fine, but uncertain. A part of me actually wanted to see her with another guy, someone her own age, and I certainly enjoyed watching her having fun. I wanted her to have fun. I loved her selflessly, and that meant I could be objective and let her go if it was best for her.
When I returned, Mary was in the front room. She was slipping out of her swimming costume, which I had to assume she'd timed specifically for my benefit. She didn't look at me, just stood there completely nude, her perfect golden apples illuminated in the evening light. She opened the door to the bathroom. "I need to wash all this filth off me," she said and got into the shower.
The implication was that this guy in the apartment opposite had come on her, but it could just as easily have meant the chlorine from the pool. Again, I wondered whether she was mad enough at me to fuck someone, or was just teaching me a lesson. I poured myself a glass of juice, put a record on, sat down and picked up a book.
After a few minutes, Mary reappeared with a towel round her, but took it off and dried her body as I sat there, watching. I got hard and licked my lips at the sight of her lovely little tuft of blonde pubic hair. She dropped the towel on the floor and went into the bedroom, her ass looking simply spectacular. She lay down on the bed, and put on some loud, obnoxious music which drowned out my Joni Mitchell, which she probably thought was sad, old person music.
I could see her through the door in the bedroom, and she knew I could. I turned off the LP and tried to read my book, but it couldn't escape my attention that she had spread her legs a little bit and her fingers were playing with her little wisp of pussy fluff. Over the course of a few minutes, her gentle playing progressed to stroking, then rubbing. She started toying with her clit and wriggling about.
As I watched, unable to look away, Mary got out of bed, walked across the room, looked at me and closed the door. I couldn't see her anymore, but heard the buzz of her vibrator starting up, and some faint sounds of female pleasure. This was unbearable, and she knew exactly how much it would drive me crazy. I could jerk off, but it would only ease my discomfort for a few minutes, and I felt like I would be the loser in this little game.
I got up, walked to the bedroom, opened the door, got undressed and started looking for my swimming trunks. Mary stopped what she was doing and closed her legs. My semi-hard cock bounced impressively out of my briefs about a foot from her face, then I slipped on my shorts and walked away. "Don't let me stop you," I said, then left the apartment and went for a swim.
The group of teenagers were back in the pool. I swam around for a little while, then, standing a few feet away, started up a conversation. I concentrated my attention on the black guy who Mary had flirted with. He was a good looking lad, and fairly athletic. "You guys met my niece Mary?"
"Yeah," the kid replied, and a cute brown haired girl splashed him.
"You know, she's staying with me, but her parents have asked me to look after her," I said. I was trying to drop a hint, but none of them replied. They started playing in the water and I got closer to the kid.
"What happened between you two?" I said quietly, coming straight to the point.
He looked at me strangely, but I didn't care what he thought of me. "A whole bunch of nothing," he replied. "We all danced a little bit, then she looked out of the window at her place a few times then split. She's kind of a prick tease."
I nodded and submerged myself, then swam away. That was all I needed to know. I could tell he was telling the truth, but even if he'd bragged about fucking her, I would have doubted him. I smiled to myself and went to lay in a chair, enjoying the last of the warmth and sunshine of the day.
After a while, I returned to the apartment, and Mary was in the kitchen preparing a meal for one. She was wearing a see-through nightie with precisely zero underwear on underneath, and I immediately got the urge to grab her, get my big man hands all over her and fuck her senseless. She was dangerously hot. Sadly, knowing how the female mind worked, there was nothing I could do to make her feel the same way. The sight of me in a swimsuit simply wouldn't drive her crazy like that.
She didn't acknowledge me, but did plenty of superfluous stretches, leans and bends to accentuate and flash her body. She knew how sensational she was, and that I was her biggest fan. I buried my head in the book, but not a single word on the page registered with me. It had been about five hours since we'd left the therapy session, and I was already a blue balled basket case.
If this was a game, I was going to lose. But that didn't mean I wouldn't play it for a while. I wondered how long she would be willing to go without sex, but then it occured to me that she could get it anywhere, anytime. But it wasn't about mere sybaritic pleasure for her, it was about expression, closeness, sharing, trust, and those things could only really come from me, at least at the moment.
Mary took her meal, sat down on a stool by the kitchen counter, and read the newspaper. I could see right up her nightie to her exposed pussy. Her pert titties were standing to attention, with her divine nipples saying hello to the world through the flimsy mesh fabric. It was totally fucking absurd. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," she muttered under her breath and turned a page of the paper.
I looked away, placing the book in between my eyes and her body. I was so hard, my trunks were about to split, and I'm sure she noticed and found my reaction to her punishment terribly funny. It was funny. I was a fool for her. I got up, went to the bedroom and got dressed. I thought about going out, but actually, really didn't want to. I was tired, hungry and miserable. I was still holding out hope that she would cease this silly experiment tonight.
But no, she didn't. This went on for two grim weeks. I was on the fold-out couch the entire time, and adding to my immeasurable sexual frustration, my back hurt. Mary walked and lounged around the apartment in lingerie, topless or in the nude for hours at a time, then would close the door to the bedroom when I would hear the hum of her vibrator start up. Other times she wouldn't close the door.
She went to a party at the apartment opposite, looking delicious in a short skirt and tiny t-shirt, but insisted that I couldn't come because it was "for people under thirty only." She masturbated in front of me while I was watching a film. She showered with the door open, and dressed and undressed with unnecessary slinkines and frequency. She came to work with me everyday, and behaved in a polite, reserved and professional manner.
I didn't have a drink for those two weeks either, and astonishingly, didn't jerk off the entire time. I thought about it and it was definitely the longest I'd ever gone without ejaculating since I'd been capable of doing so, and to say I was going mental would be a vast understatement. Occasionally, I was actually shaking with tension, and my slutty roommate did nothing to ease my torment. On the contrary.
A few times, I couldn't stand it and made a move on her, but she slapped my hands away or moved off. Once, I caught her on our bed flicking her bean, but she shut up shop when I went in for a taste, then ordered me out of the room. She went out a few times, but I didn't know where and didn't ask.
We still hung out, watched movies, had funny conversations and discussions, but sex, touching, kissing and cuddling was off-limits. I asked her how long this little game would go on for, and she just shrugged and dismissed the question. I told her that if she was trying to make a point about her therapist and I trying to control her life, then it had been a point well made. Again, she just shrugged, and continued to call me "roomie."
"We have friend-zone therapy this morning," she said to me, and I just sighed deeply and bowed my head, thoroughly defeated. I got dressed. My hair was messy and I was in pain all over, and when I looked in the mirror, I realized I hadn't shaved in a week. I looked like death warmed up, and when Mary appeared in a little bright summer dress, she looked like the cutest and peppiest little doll in the universe.
We arrived at therapy and I actually felt physically ill as the abominable Mrs. Collins sat us down in her office.
"Mary, let's start with you," she said. "How is everything?"
"It's been great, Janet," Mary said cutely.
