All characters in the following work are fictional. Any resemblance to real persons – either living or deceased – is coincidental on the part of the Author. Furthermore, as the body of the following fiction involves graphic depictions of sexual activity all characters, unless otherwise noted, are written as being of the majority age of eighteen or older.
-Thank You
Oh . . . God, literally, those were the only words that would come to mind the last time that I had walked in on my, now former, piece of shit boyfriend cheating on me. There he was. Stripped to his skin, with his untanned, pale, doughy, ass bobbing up and down above the prone form one some skank or another. My only concern – once my initial shock had passed – revolving around if the girl was doing this willingly, or . . . Once I had pulled him off of her she appeared only too happy to grab up her pants and beat a hasty retreat from our apartment. The fallout with the boyfriend dragged itself out over the course of a week and ended up with me couch-surfing with one of my co-workers. And that, is where my story begins.
My name, by the way, is Amanda. Despite having an associate's degree in communications I ended up struggling to pay off my college loans by waiting tables in a roadside, California, diner. Not how someone sees their life starting off after putting in the time to get an education. I guess my mistake had been in trying to find work in a world following the collapse of the real estate bubble and all the bail-outs and other government sponsored bullshit that was supposed to correct the flaws in our economy and put people back to work.
What none of the career advisers, or professors, or any other faculty at college was telling anyone was that employers were outsourcing our jobs overseas and that the dwindling job market was only open to those select few with experience in their chosen fields. Not those of us looking to get started. Hence, double shifts waiting tables while my degree sat in a frame in a box somewhere and I fielded calls every day from bill collectors and financial institutions offering me help in getting out from underneath the debt of an education which was doing nothing for me. As if that were not bad enough, my shithead boyfriend turns into a colossal ass-hat and starts sleeping around on me. I lose my apartment because his was the only name on the lease and, unless I wanted to give weekly blow jobs to the complex manager, I was homeless! Yeah. My life was pretty much sucking some serious ass at that point.
Enter Lindsey. My co-worker. Another waitress without the pretense of having a college education and an aspiring writer. She had overheard me bitching to our boss and had poked her head into his office to let me know that she had a couch that was open if I did not mind sharing a studio apartment. I was shocked to tears by such a sudden show of selflessness that it took several minutes before I was calmed down enough to accept.
I had not even paused long enough to hear my new 'roomy' mentioning something about her social life, etcetera, blah blah blah. I even offered her the use of my car – seeing as how she did not have one – in return for putting me up until my next paycheck came in to help with expenses. Lindsey took me back to 'our' place at the end of her shift, gave me the lay of the land, and then we grabbed a pizza to celebrate. This is where things began to become – interesting.
I had almost been asleep when the creaking of the bed frame stirred me to wakefulness! Then came the rhythmic breathing and soft sighing of two people trying to be quite while having sex with someone else in the same room. In a studio apartment that kind of thing is inescapable, but as this was only my third night living with Lindsey I thought that she might have been worn out and needing some down time after the previous two nights!
"Not again." I groaned into the pillow that I had dragged over my face.
Awake though I could not block out the sounds and, if I am being brutally honest, it had been a long time since I had gotten even a taste of what Lindsey was getting on a regular basis. I knew exactly how many (three) condoms there were in the bottom of the large over-night bag which contained all of my worldly goods except my toiletries. I even knew that those poor things were fast approaching their expiration date.
The sound of my roomy getting herself some carried to my ears against my attempts to block it out and therefore I figured that if I could not score any on my own, that I might as well live vicariously through Lindsey and her newest 'friend'. I chanced raising myself onto my knees and peeking over the back of the couch. Yes. There she was – Lindsey – stripped naked and grinding her pussy into the face of tonight's main event! My roomy was biting down on her own hand in her best effort to keep quiet as this guy ate her like she was a Vegas buffet. The long absence of anyone willing to do the same with me caused my first physical reaction and I found myself suddenly wishing that, if you will excuse the expression, I had the balls to stand up off the couch and offer him the chance to do the same to me!
Already my thighs were trembling and my breath was coming in gasps. In order to suppress my own urges I slipped one hand down between my legs and pressed my palm against the thin cotton of my panties and ground against that. The smell of Lindsey's musk was fast filling the apartment so I figured any of my own would probably go unnoticed. At that point those panties were pushed down my, still quivering, thighs enough that my hand could make some real contact and my fingers could be a little more useful!
"Oh shit!" I gasped under my breath as those digits sank inside of me. Christ! It had probably been longer than I remembered because I was tight!
My fingers moved inside of me of their own volition. I was having a hard enough time not watching Lindsey and her friend. Especially since things had progressed from simple oral sex and was beginning to get down to the real damn thing! Lindsey was hungrily slurping down a good four or five inches of hard cock at this point while her boy-wonder was keeping his fingers busy with her raised ass and pussy. Her eyes were shut and the breathy sounds she was making around that mouthful meant that he had to have some skills because she was enjoying herself immensely.
As soon as she thought he was ready, Lindsey rolled onto her back and with one hand guided him to her opening. She gasped out loud as he sank inside with one fluid thrust though! My own palm and those fingers of mine were already soaked at this point so I pressed the pad of my thumb against my clitoris and focused my motions on grinding against that. My own orgasm – no surprise here – was fast approaching thanks to what my eyes found themselves being treated to. In order to prevent giving myself away I bit down on my bottom lip but never took my eyes off the action of my friend! I don't think later on that Lindsey ever told me this guy's name but I sure would have liked to have known because what he was lacking in length he probably made up in girth, and his skills had to make it all worthwhile from the way that Lindsey was rising into his every thrust and moaning her own pleasure.
It really was something to see, and as much as I would love to be able to tell you that I never once lost track of their action, my own sudden and near explosive orgasm made my focus center on myself as I collapsed back against my pillows and ground the mound of my sex into the hand that was now trapped between my own thighs! My head thrashed from side to side and it seemed as though I could not catch a breath. At least I was glad – for once – that I had never been much of a 'screamer' during sex.
It must have been a minute, perhaps two, before I regained enough of my senses to again peek over the top of the sofa. My hand came away from me, cramping and soaked, but I felt better than I had in a long time. There must really be something in all the theories about masturbation being a needed release for everyone?
