Welcome back to the "Roommate from Hell" series (RfH). For those of you just joining us, this is Chapter 4 of an ongoing series. There will be some recap, but if you want to start from the beginning, please check out: "RfH Ch. 01: That Thing in the Corner," followed by "RfH Ch. 02: Between Secrets and Semen," and then "RfH Ch. 03: The Plans Best Laid." As always, feed back is appreciated.
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Luck is a funny thing. Some people try to push it for a chance to get ahead. Some people shove it off a cliff to see what happens. I like to consider myself to be in the prior category, but recent events have made me reevaluate the wisdom behind some of my decisions.
The decision to stay in an apartment with a violent murderer comes to mind. I'd also been apprehensive about the slithering abomination growing out of the living room wall, but at least he stuck to his corner and didn't attack anyone unless stepped on. Most recently was the decision to accept my aforementioned roommate's invitation to spend Friday evening with her and her guest.
Last time she had a guest over, I had witnessed some pretty hot action between her and a very well endowed stranger, but I'd also witnessed a murder. I found myself eager to get more involved with one of those activities, but had reservations about getting wrapped up in the other.
Looking back on that night, she had been at the mercy of her male suitor the entire time, exposed and vulnerable. Had he chosen to, he could have lashed out at any moment prior to his final, ill-fated attack. While she had stabbed that hapless fuck to death, he had blatantly and unambiguously attacked her. Her reaction was extreme, but it was also technically in self defense. The knife she kept hidden under the couch had proven to be a worthwhile failsafe last time, but there was too much that could have gone wrong.
Maybe Melissa wasn't looking for an accomplice, so much as protection. But protection from what? Did she really have to bring all these strangers over? Was it really too much work for her to meet them in a public place first, and confirm that they weren't a serial killer before bringing them back to the place I sleep at night?
I spent many a sweaty night dwelling vigorously on the upcoming get-together, speculating what would happen, what could happen, and what I wanted to happen. I didn't know what to expect. Melissa hadn't exactly given me an itinerary, she didn't really give me any details at all. Just the date, time, and a vague expectation of me being there before she stormed off to her room.
Whether she married, fucked, or killed her guest, it was pretty clear that she required me to at least bare witness to the act. But what if she asked me to get involved? I guess I could handle fucking up a dude if he threatened to attack a woman, but what if she wanted me to get involved sexually? Would we take turns, or just grab different ends? What if our balls touched? Was she expecting me to get sexually involved with a man?
That would be just so typical Melissa. I could just imagine her sitting there as the man from last time used his massive, powerful hands to tenderly caress my cheek, before taking the back of my head and slowly but firmly forcing me down onto his engorged manhood. I could clearly picture her cackling mercilessly at my tear-filled gasps and gags as he made me his bitch, all the while pleasuring herself with a pair of my stolen underwear.
This vision haunted me as I woke up late on Friday and got ready. When I walked into the kitchen for breakfast, Melissa cracked open her bedroom door and peaked out.
"Hey, I was gonna have breakfast and take a shower for tonight." I told her, hoping to spark a conversation and maybe get some more information on what was expected of me.
"Fine." She answered simply, and slammed her door shut. I clearly wasn't going to get anymore answers from her today. It looked like I was going to have to go into this thing blind. I finished breakfast, did the dishes, took a shower, and was ready to go by noon. This left a lot of time to stew and fester on what was to come while I periodically tidied the place up.
As the sun set and the hours dragged on, I began to get concerned that Melissa had forgotten and slept through the whole affair. This fear was reinforced when I heard a knock at the door, but at that exact moment; Melissa burst out of the room completely cleaned up and wearing the same gorgeous glimmering sequined dress she had worn last time. She smelt of herbal shampoos as she stormed passed me, and I briefly wondered if she was forgoing underwear again.
"That's my guest, get the door." She barked while she finished putting in her other earring and stormed into the kitchen to get the wine ready. I would have liked to spend more time enjoying Melissa's magnificent appearance. It was so rare that she cleaned up, and it was always a treat when she did. But as the mysterious stranger knocked at the door a second time, I tore my eyes away and went to let him in.
I took a deep breath before I put my hand on the handle. All the possible appearances for this man ran through my head, along with that particular image of dominance that had been plaguing my mind lately.
I had so many questions. What if he's ugly? What if he thinks I'm ugly? What if he has a bigger dick than me? What if he expects me to suck that dick? I have no idea how to suck dick! What if he is unsatisfied and gets mad? I didn't exactly have any experience, and it never came up in the highschool locker room. Even if he really was gay, I still didn't know if he was a top or bottom, and I had no idea what the proper protocol was for approaching the subject. Flip a coin? Wrestle?
My heart was pounding, and I was blushing like a school girl as I nervously opened the door.
At first I was confused. Instead of a well dressed model of masculinity like last time, there was a tall woman in a strange costume. Her massive cape hid the contours of her body under it's sky blue, silky fabric. The fur lining at the edges tossled the gaze with their icy white tufts. Though her body was hidden, her face was beautiful. She had a piercing blue stare that matched her cape, and silvery locks that shimmered with her every movement.
I found myself trying to come up with a way to apologize to this beautiful woman, and tell her that she had the wrong door. But as I stood there gaping, Melissa interrupted.
"Well?! Aren't you going to let her in?" She snapped at me with a hint of soreness. It took a moment of looking between them for me to make the connection.
This was her guest! Not a grizzled axe murderer, not a flashy Casanova intent on emasculating me, but a woman! And a gorgeous one at that!
"Of course, come in!" I piped up a bit more loudly than I meant to. Getting my shit together, I offered to take her coat. Cape? Cloak?
What ever it was, she stripped it off before I had even closed the door, revealing the smoothest satin, straight out of the most expensive lingerie catalogs. The fabric was a glimmering Prussian blue, with white lace along the top of the bra, stockings, and panty line. The outfit was held together by a garter the shade of spider silk, with a pair of ribbons streaming from her underpants where they clasped to the bustier.
Her body was slender and pale, towering over Melissa's laterally bountiful frame. Her features were subtle and concise, as if carved and polished from birch.
"Well, aren't you going to be a gentlemen and take my coat?" Her voice was soft, like velvet straps gently tightening around your throat.
I realized that I'd been staring again, and quickly apologized as I took her heavy over garment and daintily hung it on the coat tree. I made a point to lock the front door before returning to the living room.
The mysterious guest was comfortably sprawled out on the easy chair next to the TV. Melissa was glowering at me from the couch. I'm not sure what she was so mad at me about, I hadn't even done anything yet.
"I like this man of yours. He's... endearing. Tell me, did you fascinate him yourself?" She asked sweetly.
