My Lesbian Roommate

Aaron stood outside of his roommates' door, as quiet as possible. If he strained, he could hear a little through the door: low, gentle, breathy gasps of pleasure. He could hear Kristina groaning every few seconds, and Jenn's satisfied "mmmm" in response. He listened for the creak of the bed, the wet sound of a finger in a cunt, a tongue on a clit. He pictured Kristina laying on the bed, large breasts pooled on her chest, moaning as Jenn's hair tickled her thighs. He pictured Jenn's toned body as she tongue-fucked her curvy wife, her firm ass and glistening, golden pussy wiggling slightly in the air.

His cock was throbbing against his jeans, and he placed his hand against it, afraid if he did more he'd be heard.

Kristina's moans grew louder. Afraid of being heard after she came, he retreated to his room a few steps down the hall. The door had barely closed when he started masterbating, imagining throwing open his roommates' door and striding in to slide his cock into Jenn's warm, waiting cunt as she tongue fucked her wife. He came in seconds, imagining the three of them orgasming at the same time: Kristina moaning in ecstasy as Jenn's cunt spasmed on his dick.

As his cum splattered onto the floor, he heard Kristina's orgasm through the walls.

*************************

He couldn't stop thinking about Kristina and Jenn. When one of his regular hookups came over the next day, he closed his eyes as she worshiped his cock. He imagined Kristina's hot tongue licking his balls, Kristina's adorable hands slowly stroking his shaft, Kristina's big pillowy breasts in his hand, Kristina's mouth taking his shrinking cock into her mouth and carefully cleaning off the cum, Kristina's desperate need to suck every last drop out of him.

When she asked him if she could cum, he told her to tell him about the time she fucked one of her lesbian friends. He was hard again almost instantly, and told her to keep going as he turned her over and slid into her from behind, imagining her tight pussy had never taken cock before.

When he came a second time, he had to stop himself from moaning out Kristina's name.

*************************

Things didn't get easier. When he woke up Sunday morning, he had a raging hard-on. Sighing, he got up, grabbed a towel, and headed for the shower. The bathroom door was closed, but his roommates were at church, so he went in without a second thought... only to find Kristina bent over, ass towards him, toweling off her legs. She was already reacting to the sound of the door opening, and he only caught a glimpse of her virgin (he assumed) asshole between two gorgeous cheeks, and a thatch of thick black hair over her pussy. Kristina whirled, and yelped, startled. She tried, only partially succeeding, to bring her towel up across her body to cover her large breasts as they jiggled from her sudden movement. Startled, he squeezed out a "oh my god, I'm sorry," and quickly backed out, all the while trying desperately to burn the image of her body into his brain.

He had never seen her naked. She usually dressed conservatively--bulky sweaters and jeans, and she was pretty stocky, with a round, apple-cheeked face, so he had always assumed she was fairly overweight. He was wrong--she was just incredibly curvy. Her tits were the size of cantaloupes, full, and firm. Her waist curved in beautifully, and she had a little bit of a tummy, but with defined obliques that made her look fit. Her hips flared out, complete with a gorgeous ass.

His fantasies were about to get a lot more vivid.

There was something else, too, something he'd spend days thinking about. When he opened the door, the look on her face was plain shock. But after a second, when her eyes had flickered over his naked body, and his hard cock, something else entered her eyes. It was that look, more than anything else, that he fantasized about as he thought about the encounter. Did it mean something? They had been close in the past, but never more than friends. Was there something else there?

Guilty about how much he had fantasized about the event, he tried to apologize again the next time he saw her. She laughed it off, telling him it was clearly an honest mistake, and he shouldn't worry about it. She put her hand on his arm, smiling at him, and telling him they were "just bodies, after all." He couldn't quite get into the idea that the gorgeous form he had seen in the bathroom was "just a body," but he laughed, agreed with her, and tried to move on.

But something was different after that.

The content of their conversations hadn't changed, but the body language and tone had. When he entered a room, she'd stop what she was doing. She'd stand closer, and punctuate her laughs or chiding with light touches on his arms or shoulders. He caught her eyes flickering over his body, especially when he was wearing tight fitting shirts or pants that made his bulge more visible.

In the past, she had treated his hookups with a sort of silent tolerance, but one morning, after he had had a girl over the night before, and Jenn was at work, she asked him what he got out of the women he slept with. In the past, she had largely treated his escapades in her house with a mild tolerance, so he shrugged, and told her he liked having sex with them. He expected her to drop it, but she paused, and pressed the issue. "But why them," she asked, "and not others?"

Again, he shrugged. "Most of it is chemistry. Even if it's just sex, if you don't like the person you're having sex with, it's usually not very rewarding."

She paused for a moment, glancing at the floor. "So... what makes you want to have sex with someone?"

He looked at her for a moment. Her nipples were visible through her shirt. "Wellll...," he started, "I like women who are submissive. Women who like serving me. I like sex with most people, honestly, but the best of it are women who feel grateful to be fucked-- who wanna give up the rest of their life for my cock for a few hours."

At this, she raised her eyebrows, and fixed him with her eyes. He was worried he'd said too much. But she took a breath, hesitated, and asked if he thought they liked that.

Again, he shrugged. "Some do. Some want to like it, but don't. You can usually tell. I like the ones who like it. I get to feel a sense of ownership and control for a bit, and they get to release their anxieties about what they need to be. They get to be what they are for a while. A lot of women like serving like that. Most don't want it all the time, but as an expression of a fantasy," he shrugged again, "they can get a lot out of it "

She looked at him with a skeptical expression. "A lot of women?"

"Maybe just a lot of the women attracted to me."

She snorted, rolled her eyes and went back to washing dishes. But her nipples were still hard... and she looked like she was sticking her ass out a bit.

Sometime later that week, he was reading in the living room, and she came home in a tight fitting t-shirt that showed off her breasts, and a skirt that stopped just above her knees. Surprised, he tried to check her out while she was taking off her purse, and hanging up her keys. It confirmed the realization he had had in the shower: she had gorgeous, round breasts, a surprisingly tight waist, and thick, but muscular legs. It was nice to see her body a little more on display than In the bulky sweaters she usually wore, and he stared longer than he probably should've. She caught him looking when she finished putting her things away, and obviously caught, he figured he had to say something. "You look nice today!"

She blushed, and shrugged. "I had to run out while most of my stuff was in the wash. I usually don't wear these often."

He took the opportunity to look her over again, pretending to consider, and saw her nipples harden underneath the shirt. "Really?" he asked, "I feel like that fits you better than a lot of the stuff I see you in."

She looked down at herself with a slight smile, and said, "Well, I got catcalled like three times on my walk home, which never happens to me. So *some* men seem to like it. I think I'll stick to my usual outfits when I go out."

He raised an eyebrow: "and at home?"

She smiled coquettishly. "We'll see. This is a little more comfortable."

In the next few days, she did, indeed, start to wear more revealing clothing around the house.

She'd come down in the mornings in pajama pants that hugged her ass, and started wearing t-shirts that clung to her large breasts and showed off her figure.

He had a hard time not checking her out. He tried to be discreet, but he was sure she had caught him a few times, though she never said anything.

One morning, she came down in an old white t-shirt. The material had started to wear, and it was just a tiny bit translucent, especially where her large breasts stretched the fabric. She wasn't wearing a bra, either, and he spent plenty of time hanging around her, trying to catch glimpses of her breasts jiggling under the shirt.

After she and Jenn finished their lunch, she came into the living room, where he was reading. Her shirt was damp, maybe from washing dishes, and the material was almost completely see-through. It clung to her tits, her large nipples standing out in tents and her large areolas marking two brown spots seeping through the shirt. Again, he stared longer than was probably appropriate, and when he looked up at Kristina, she was watching him. She smirked, plopped down in an armchair, and started to read.

Now hard, and not thinking clearly, he turned around on the couch so she was in his view. He pretended to read, staring over the top of his book at her enormous wet tits, imagining Kristina with her shirt off, his cock plunging into her tight cunt. Lost in this train of thought, he again looked up to see Kristina, again, staring at him, eyebrows raised. He reddened, and she burst out in a peal of laughter that made her tits bounce and his cock twitch in his pants.

Jenn called out from the kitchen: "What is it dear?"

Kristina shook her head, responding: "Nothing, honey. Aaron just had the funniest expression while he was reading."

Shaking her head, she picked up her book again, only to have Jenn come in, looking confused. She glanced at Aaron, then looked at her wife, scowled, and went over and whispered something in her ear. Kristina shrugged, Jenn gave her a look, and Kristina said "oh, fine," and went upstairs. When she came back down she had traded the wet T-shirt for an old baggy college sweater, and looked like she had put on a bra. Disappointed, Aaron went back to reading for real... though he was unable to avoid thinking about Kristina's tits, and her cover of his action to Jenn.

After that, she dressed in the more revealing style only when Jenn wasn't home, sometimes changing as soon as her wife left the house. Aaron started checking her out more openly, encouraged by the fact that Kristina's only reaction when she caught him was a snort or a raised eyebrow.

One day, he figured he'd return the favor, and came down in a tank top that showed off his shoulders and arms, and shorter gym shorts that displayed his calves. Kristina looked him up and down when he descended, and asked if he was about to go work out. He paused for a moment, then answered in the affirmative. "I was gonna do some body weight exercises down here, actually, if you don't mind."

She smiled, and nodded. "Of course not. It's your house, too."

He did a light set, focussing on pushups and crunches. He could feel her eyes on him as he worked, and it was his turn to smile as he showed off a bit, conscious of how his defined arms and back would look, especially with the thin sheen of sweat he worked up. He worked out for about a half hour, and when he was done, Kristina was looking a little flushed herself. He hung around chatting with her a bit, enjoying the way she kept stealing glances at his body, until he had cooled off a bit and went upstairs for a shower.

This continued for a few weeks. He'd compliment her on her outfit when she was wearing especially tight clothing, and she started telling him how impressed she was with his body. She started doing yoga in the living room, in a brand new sports bra and yoga pants, and he'd pretend not to look as she thrust her ass into the sky in downward dog, thin material of the pants stretching enough to reveal the color of her panties, breasts on display as she bent over backwards.

When summer came, and the temperature rose, Kristina used it as an excuse to wear even less. She'd lounge around in her sleeping shirt, a white camisole, and he let himself look, enjoying how the thin material clung to her gorgeous breasts and how her nipples always seemed to be hard when he was around. He started hanging out around the house (when Jenn wasn't home) shirtless, and her stares became more blatant. She swapped out the pajama pants for short cotton shorts that rode up, exposing the bottom of her considerable ass. He stopped wearing underwear, coming downstairs shirtless in athletic shorts, the hard-on that inevitably arose when Kristina was around impossible to ignore. It became comical. When Jenn was around, everything was as it was before: conservative Kristina acting like a sister, covered up in thick fabric. When Jenn was gone, they both walked around in little more than their underwear, each taking long looks at each other as Kristina bent over to pick something up off the floor, her ass swallowing her shorts and her breasts spilling out of her camisole, or as he brought laundry up and down stairs, biceps bulging as he held the hamper, cock tenting his shorts as he lay on the living room couch. Their conversations were largely unchanged: they put on the pretense that nothing was going on, even though he constantly had an erection, and he could often smell her arousal if he had been in the room for a while.

Then Jenn left for a week, to visit her family. It was the middle of July, hot and humid. Aaron watched with a mixture of excitement and apprehension as Kristina kissed her wife goodbye before she left for the airport. As soon as the door had shut, Kristina turned to him. "I'm so glad she's gone," she said, letting out a breath. "It's so unbearably hot! And she tells me anything I try to wear that's actually cool enough is too revealing." She pouted, red-faced and sweating.

"Too bad you can't go shirtless," I said, pulling off mine.

She looked at my body for a second, then said, shyly: "Would you mind if I did?"

He looked at her in surprise, thought for a second. "No. After all, they're just bodies, right?

She smiled, and took a deep breath, then slowly started taking off her shirt, almost as though she still hadn't made up her mind. Then, in a moment, it was off, and she stood there in her bra. He admired the view, enjoying how her breasts filled the material, and how the bra pushed them together into generous cleavage. She cleared her throat, and he looked up to see her looking at him, embarrassed, almost as though she was waiting for him to say something. He cleared his throat. "Jenn is... very lucky."

She looked at him innocently. "What do you mean?"

"You're beautiful, Kristina. You have an amazing body."

She smiled, a little sadly, glancing at his cock. A silence filled the room, each of them staring at the other, shirtless. She sighed, then murmured, almost to herself, "Jenn doesn't..." shook her head, then looked up at him. "Can I have a hug?"

He nodded, and she stepped into his embrace. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and he held her tight as she nuzzled her head into his neck. He stroked her hair, and she hugged him tighter, his cock pressing against her stomach. "It's okay," he told her, and she sniffled. They stayed like that for a while, bodies pressed together, both sweating in the summer heat. When Kristina pulled away, her eyes were wet. She gave a last look at his cock tenting through his shorts, bent down to pick up her shirt, and went upstairs without a word.

She avoided him for much of the rest of the day, a cloud of melancholy hovering around her. Nervous, he didn't press the issue. What they were doing was, undoubtedly, wrong, and if she was having second thoughts, he wasn't eager to press on. Kristina seemed like she was deep in thought, absent-mindedly doing her usual things around the house. She took several walks that day, and he noticed her sitting at the dining room table a few times, staring out the window. Her mood continued for the rest of the day, but something changed the next morning. She went out to run errands, and came back in a bright mood. He noticed there were a few lingerie bags in her hands, along with the groceries, but didn't comment. Surprisingly, she set the groceries down in the kitchen, then went upstairs immediately. She came back down, and he saw her pass by on the way to the kitchen, wearing a red lingerie set. Curious, he followed her, offering to help put the groceries away. She turned, and he saw a mix of excitement and nervousness on her face.

She looked gorgeous. The lingerie set was sheer red lace, and he could see the brown of her areolas through the bra, and her thick black pubic hair poking through her panties. He raised his eyebrows, and she blushed, her face matching her outfit. "I thought that, if I was going to be in my underwear so much, I should get something a little more attractive." She adjusted the bra, nervously. "Plus, the lace is so much cooler than that heavy cotton."

"I certainly don't mind. You look incredible." She smiled, and started putting the groceries away.

He "helped," staring at her nearly nude body, trying to see her nipples through the lace, admiring

her ass with only a strip of fabric covering her hole, and wondering where the hell this was going.

Eventually, he decided to go for it.

"Do you mind," he asked, "if I go nude? You're right about the cotton being hot, and, well, I feel a bit overdressed."

Kristina swallowed, froze, unable to take her eyes off of his dick. "Um, no, not at all."

She kept staring, wide-eyed, as he took a breath and pulled his shorts down, his 8 inch cock springing out of the waistband. Her mouth dropped open, and she let out a little gasp, transfixed by his cock. "Wow..." She looked up at him. "Is that... big?"

He grinned, enjoying her awe. "Most women tell me it's the biggest cock they've ever seen. I'm guessing that's true for you, too?"

"I've only seen three." She was staring again. "But yes. By a lot."

He let her stare, enjoying the moment. "You know, I don't mind if you want to go naked, too. I can already see quite a bit of you."

She nodded, and bent at the waist, pulling her panties down and stepping out of them, never taking her eyes off of his cock. She fumbled with her bra for a few seconds, seemingly dazed, and he asked if she needed help. She nodded, and he stepped towards her.

"Sorry," he said, coming close, "I only really know how to do it from this angle." He stepped up next to her, close enough that his cock rested in her thick public hair, and he could feel her breath on his neck. He reached around her, her chest brushing against his, and undid her bra strap. He gently put his hands on her shoulders and brought them down her arms, pulling the bra down with him. She was looking up at him, eyes wide.

"Thank you," she whispered, and he gently kissed her cheek.

"No problem," he said. "Anything for you." He stepped away, cock throbbing, and they both stared at each other's bodies for a long moment, the embarrassment of the meeting in the bathroom replaced by lust. When he had had his fill, he said goodnight, and hugged her, enjoying her warmth and how her tits pressed against him, and how she seemed to almost automatically grind her hips against him, his cock nestled closely in her pubes. After a few deep breaths, and a slow, grazing release, he went upstairs, and went to bed.