How I Met My Master

He was a tall, slim moccaccino with four sugars and extra soymilk froth.

For someone with those eyes, I expected something strong –something dark, black, and bitter. But for whatever reason, it seemed he liked things sweet.

How ironic.

I watched him carefully from my seat in the back of the coffeehouse. It was 12:17, and I should have been making my way to a 12:30 class, but instead, I was hunkered down at a booth, pretending to read the newspaper. I peered over the edge at my target, and desperately tried to convince myself I wasn't a stalker.

I didn't know he'd come here,

I reasoned.

But now that he is, I might as well get a good look.

I shifted the paper down to the table and fished for a pencil in my bag. As I dug through my purse, I snuck brief glances to the table in front of me where he sat, adding more sugar to his drink. By the third extra packet, I wanted to vomit just watching him.

What a child...

Once I found a pencil, I let the tip hover over the crossword section and pretended to fill in items. Occasionally he would look up to glance at my table or out the window, and I went through a range of motions – sipping from my empty coffee cup, glancing at the couple at the booth next to me, and scratching overtly sexual nonsense into empty squares on the paper.

When I was gifted with another opportunity to glance again, I made sure to glue my gaze to his face. I had to make sure that he was the same man I'd seen leaning against the windowpane the night before. With distance and darkness obstructing me, I hadn't been able to tell that he was Asian, but those eyes were something I just couldn't forget. Dark, rich, intense.

That morning, however, they seemed a bit bored and tepid.

He definitely wasn't boring-

looking

, though. He was actually...kinda cute.

For a rapist.

He appeared fairly young, probably in his early thirties, with straight black hair cut just below his ears. The real length was in his bangs, which drooped over his eyes when he moved his head or leaned forward to let his chin rest on his palm. Those little acts coaxed my gaze to his sharp jawline, and the height of his cheekbones. He had a distinct look – from the smooth, suntanned shade of his skin to the slight roundness of his nose, but I couldn't bring myself to look away.

Despite what I'd witnessed him doing the night before, I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have that skin against mine.

For the third time in five minutes, he ran a hand through his hair – a restless attempt to shake a few strands out of his eyes. It was a cute tick, like Blaine's hair blowing, but the sight of it made me remember the careless way he'd smirked and repeated the motion before grabbing that blonde by her roots.

The longer I stared at him, the more vivid the scene became. I could see her breasts again, those puffy, pink nipples and the clamps pinching them tight. I touched my own breasts absentmindedly, and could feel the nipples tightening. Out of nowhere, I was overtaken with another hot flash.

Embarrassed, I looked down at the newspaper once more and tried to shake the image from my head. I'd never before been consumed by something so easily. All I could think about was that woman, and how helpless she seemed.

It was kind of...

"You're doing the puzzle?" A smooth, masculine voice invaded the privacy of my thoughts.

Grudgingly, I began to think of Mark, but then tensed up. The voice was much different than his. It was lazier...more humorous.

I looked up and found myself face to face with the stranger, his dark eyes boring into mine. He smirked at me, and I was unable to speak.

"I love these things. Let's see..." he sat down casually and pulled the sheet in his direction. "Boston Hockey team...six letters..."

My gaze darted to the paper.

"Wait—

"—

cock

," he read the word with a smirk on his lips. "Silly...you must know that's only four letters."

"Give it back!" I demanded.

"And what's this?" he laughed, a bitter, teasing laugh. "This crossword's pretty interesting. You've got down cum, cumdumpster, slut, fuck, hardcore, and what's this last one here? Oh! ga—

"—stop reading that!" I struggled to keep my voice at a whisper. "If you don't, I'll—

"—you'll what?" he leaned into me, so close that I could smell the sweet coffee on his breath.

I pushed back and up from the table. "I saw what you did to that girl last night. I'll call the cops."

He leaned back in his chair with a laugh. "Oh really? I didn't know sex was illegal in 'these here parts.'"

"You—

"—I mean, I know

peeping

sure is."

I flushed again, and was glad he couldn't see it in my face. Up until then, he was the pervert, not me.

"It's okay," his tone suddenly became more serious. "I saw you, too."

When I didn't say anything, he took it as his cue to continue.

"Up against the car, you know? Went out for a smoke and saw that guy fucking you." He paused to smile. "You like older guys?"

I started to reach for my schoolbag, but then noticed he was sitting on the strap.

"Not gonna answer?" he scanned my face for a moment. Although the slope of his eyelids him appear sleepy, there was nothing but pure seriousness and intensity in his gaze.

"Well..." he picked up my empty coffee cup and began tearing into the Styrofoam.

For someone so intimidating, he was rather fidgety as well.

"He was pretty harsh with you." With a free hand, he reached across the table to touch mine, but I slid it back at lightning speed. "Is that how you like it? Rough and dirty?"

That was enough for me. I grabbed the strap he was sitting on and yanked it violently. My schoolbooks scattered over the floor of the coffee shop, and instead of helping me, the man just chuckled and watched me scramble, with that same stupid grin on his face.

"Asshole," I muttered it under my breath. "I may have looked in your window, but at least I'm not a fucking pervert!"

I waited for his angry reaction, but there was nothing. Instead of reaching out to grab me again, he continued to sit there, smiling. His eyes though, I noticed, weren't anywhere near my face. I tried to ignore it and focus on picking up my things, but it was difficult to move under his stare. I could feel his eyes roaming down my body, making slow turns over my breasts and the curve of my ass. After a while, I half-expected him to reach out and grab it.

"You know..." he started, and for some reason I was compelled to look up. "You'd do really well in porn."

Although I wanted to get out of there, I couldn't find it in me to back down. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Your ass, sweetheart," he raised his empty cup at me. "Who wouldn't want to hit that?"

That was it. The final straw.

When I had finally collected all my items, I snatched the newspaper and headed for the door. I was home free. After facing off against the single strangest man I'd ever met, I'd be able to go home and forget the whole thing. With a bitter scowl on my lips, I glanced down at my watch. I'd missed my class completely, and the next didn't start for a few more hours. The best thing I could do was go home.

When I got to the apartment, I found Blaine lazing around on the couch as usual. It seemed she'd taken yet another personal day from work. As much as I loved her, Blaine could be ridiculously lazy when it suited her. However, my annoyance didn't stick around long. Normally, I would have been pissed knowing that Blaine had gotten into my closet, but after getting a good look at my roommate, I couldn't help but think she looked cute wearing one of my oversized college t-shirts.

"Home already?" she looked up at me, then at her watch. "Don't you have—

"—I missed it," I dropped my books on the floor and motioned for Blaine to scoot over.

When she turned over onto her stomach to make room, she gave me a flash of her tight, pink hi-cut panties. I tried not to pay attention, but it was hard not to stare. Unlike me, Blaine worked out every day for that gorgeous body, and as she stretched her long legs across my lap, I couldn't help but admire it.

'Maybe I should stop eating so much Chinese food,

' I gave my thighs a little pinch.

"I didn't hear you come in last night," Blaine broke the silence again.

Instead of acknowledging her, I turned my attention to the television. There was some ridiculous game show on, involving scantily clad women picking up items between their breasts. I watched it in silence for a few minutes, and then palmed my own.

"Do you think my tits are big enough?" I looked at Blaine, hoping to change the subject.

I knew Blaine was fishing to find out what had happened to me last night, and whether I'd hooked up with Mark, but I wasn't in the mood. She had a habit of being right about everything in my life, and I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of an "I told you so" so early in the day.

Blaine seemed to understand. She was quiet for a moment, but then leaned up to touch my breasts. After giving a playful squeeze, she gestured to her flat chest.

"They're bigger than mine, and I've never had any trouble picking up guys."

"Or girls," she added with a playful little wink.

I gave a little grumble of approval and leaned back against the couch with a sigh. I wasn't usually one to wallow in self-pity, but Mark was truly getting to me. He said he wanted me, he said he'd never met anyone like me, but then he wasn't ready to leave what he said was a "loveless, dysfunctional marriage," for me.

"So, did Mark say you should get a boob job?" Blaine's expression soured and mine went with it as I remembered the night before.

He'd fucked me against that stupid car and then told me he had to get home.

His wife would wonder.

Maybe Blaine was right. Maybe he was using me, and maybe if the sex hadn't been so incredible to begin with, I would have given a shit.

"I saw this guy through the window last night," I changed the subject again. "Across the street."

"David?" Blaine rotated in the couch and stretched out so that she could easily pull my head into her lap. It was a normal position for us both, and I certainly didn't mind being closer to her when the situation warranted it.

"His name is David?" I raised my brows.

"Tall, Asian, lactose intolerant?" she began massaging my shoulders.

I suddenly remembered the soy-milk in his coffee order, and frowned.

"He just moved in a week ago. Don't tell me you've already fucked him?"

"We're

friends

," she slid her hands down my shoulders and then moved to my breasts. I wore a loose button-down with no bra underneath, and every squeezing, pinching move she made had my nipples stiffening. It had been a while since Blaine and I had played around together, and it always seemed to happen in the same way. Whether she was down, or I was down, we always came together for familiar comfort.

"Friends?" my voice was breathy.

"Yeah, he used to live in this building way before you moved in with me. We were pretty close, but..." Blaine paused to unbutton the first few clasps on my shirt.

I closed my eyes and tried to slow my beating heart, but once she leaned down to suckle on the tip of my nipple, it was useless. Blaine did things to me that no man ever did. Not sexually, but emotionally. No guy I'd ever been out with gave me butterflies, or made me laugh the way she did. I might not have been experienced, but Blaine had no issue with it. She took my hand, guided me, and showed me what true pleasure was.

"But what?" I raised my arm and slid my hand into her long hair. I loved the look of her red tresses around my fingers, and loved it even more when leaned over to let them tickle against my bare skin.

"We had different

tastes

," Blaine pulled my shirt open completely. "I could never sleep with him."

"You?" I scoffed. "Not sleep with a hot guy?"

Blaine cut her eyes at me. "So, you think he's hot?"

To evade the line of questioning, I sat up without warning her and let the shirt slide down over my shoulders. Her eyes roamed over my uncovered half curiously, but she said nothing. Instead, I watched her raise her slim arms, and allow me to pull the shirt off over her head. Despite the size of her chest, she was a real woman. Tall and slim, but with real curves and experience. I would always be a little doll, but she would be "The Goddess."

After taking her in for so long, I forgot about David and Mark. With one hand, I swept the hair from her neck and placed a series of soft kisses just under her jaw. It was a soft spot for Blaine, and made her giggle. That giggle quickly turned into a moan when I lowered my mouth to her breast. She wove her fingers through my dark hair and pulled as I nipped at her nipples. She was deliciously sensitive – just like me, and every lick and pinch had her squirming.

Those were the only times Blaine ever let me reverse our roles. She mothered and babied me on a daily basis, but when we fooled around together, control was there for the taking.

"Let's go to your room," I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of her panties and gave a playful little tug. "I wanna use that new—

"—you like toys too much. A big girl would use what God gave her," Blaine teased me, and before I could react, found our position reversed.

She scaled over me like a cat, and dipped down to kiss my lips. Unlike Mark, her kisses were soft and calming. A girl could lose herself in those kisses. I closed my eyes and slipped my tongue into her mouth gratefully. As she leaned closer, our nipples grazed, and her small breasts pushed flush against my fuller ones. The soft skin and the beautiful contrast of color and size always got to me.

"A big girl, huh?" I breathed the words on her lips and slid my hand between us. Her panties came off easily- down her slim hips and off over her legs in no time. Blaine wriggled against me, and I could feel the soft red hairs on her pussy. They were slightly curly, and betrayed the real style of her hair. She spent hours straightening that mane every morning, and I felt delighted to know the truth behind something so intimate.

Slowly, gently, I pushed my fingertips past her those curls and into the warmth of her sex. Blaine gripped my shoulder firmly, and pulled me close. Her green eyes smoldered with desire. She kissed me, and I didn't resist. Her hot tongue rolled into my mouth and mimicked the rhythm of my digits inside her. I flexed my fingers and she slid up against my body. With both hands on my shoulders, Blaine ground her pussy against my fingers, slickening them. She was hot on my skin, and the feel made me stiffen with arousal.

At once, I broke away from her kiss.

"Let me taste you," I tried not to sound desperate, but as usual, my voice betrayed me.

Blaine's long hair fell into my face as she kissed me again, and moaned into my mouth. She used my fingers as her personal toy, slowly grinding and fucking them for pleasure. I loved the feel of her suctioning me. It reminded me of our romp with Mark, and the way her pussy had clenched his cock when she came. In a matter of seconds, I felt my own panties dampening.

Before she could protest, I pulled my fingers from her slit and sucked them clean. Blaine watched with interest, and as soon as I finished, fed them between her parted lips. She suckled them lightly, and then hovered her mouth over my breasts again. This time, she was more forceful, with firm nips and bites on my nipples. She squeezed my full breasts in her palms and nuzzled between them.

"Don't you dare ever your tits done," she let out a pleasure-filled sigh and slid down my body with ease. She really was like a cat – so graceful and sneaky.

"They're too soft and cute to be ruined that way," Blaine sat up and turned over so that her pussy was poised right at my face.

I was overwhelmed at the scent and the sight of her. Smooth, porcelain skin framed her pretty pink center, and her bright red curls were matted with hot juices. I didn't waste a second before tasting her. With both hands, I grabbed her ass and pulled her to my mouth. Blaine let out a little squeal that quickly broke down into a series of moans as I delved deeper. With the pad of my thumb, I stroked her clit and coated my tongue with her juices. She was hot, musky, and sweet all at the same time. As much as I loved the unique taste of a throbbing cock, or hot cum being pumped down my throat, I had to admit, Blaine's flavors were equally as enticing.

While I enjoyed her, Blaine began working quickly to get a taste of her own. Instead of dragging my panties down, she pulled my black, lace thong to the side and ran a finger down my dripping slit. I rarely wore panties like that, but Mark had promised to meet me for a lunchtime rendezvous. It was past lunch, I didn't call to meet him, but at least their sex appeal hadn't gone to waste.

"You have such a great ass," Blaine spanked me playfully, and palmed my cheeks the way she'd done with my breasts.

For a split second, I thought back to the coffeehouse, and David's lecherous smirk as he eyed me. It made me stop what I was doing for a moment, but the second Blaine pushed a finger inside me, I was back to reality.

"Not so much at once," I whined, but she proceeded to slide another slim finger beside it. Her tongue flicked lightly at my dark, hooded clit to soothe the discomfort.

"How does Mark fuck you when you complain so damn much?" she joked, but I was too busy to respond to it.

Taking the hint, Blaine pressed her whole mouth over the dark, smoothly shaven lips of my pussy and suckled. I loved it when she did that. I could feel the full heat of her saliva on my sensitive bits, and the way she moaned as she teased me sent little shivers through my entire body.

I arched my back against the sofa and with firm hands held onto her ass. She shivered when I plunged my tongue deeper and added a finger to the mix. Soon, we both settled into a comfortable rhythm of giving and taking that eliminated the need for all words.

Her hips bucked frantically, and I whined for more. More lips, more tongue, more of her thrilling expertise.

When I came, she followed, clenching and spasming around my finger. Her juices filled my mouth, and I could feel her sticky lips and tongue lapping at mine. Slowly, gently, she stroked my thighs to ease my quivering, and I fought the urge to squeeze them around her head.

I continued to ride the high of my orgasm far after completion, and focused solely on the feel of her heart hammering against my tummy. For a brief moment when I closed my eyes, they seemed to beat together. To the same, slightly distorted tune.

Blaine was first to roll off. Though a little shaky, she managed to stretch out so that her head was by my feet.

"Hey," I broke the silence first. Blaine said nothing, but played with my toes a little to let me know she was listening.

"Would you ever... be with me?" I asked, suddenly. "Like...really

be with me

?"

Blaine sat up, and to my disappointment; her long hair hid her breasts.

"What's this all of a sudden?" she laughed and flicked my forehead with her index finger.

I covered the sore spot with both hands and licked my lips to taste Blaine again.

"I'm just..." I studied the confused look on her face and then recoiled. "I'm just kidding."

Blaine seemed to question me for a moment, but when I forced a laugh and got off the couch, the strange air between us dissipated.

"I'm kidding, Blaine," I repeated it, more to myself than anything.

Blaine nodded skeptically, and then wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

"Hey kid, let's get a shower, huh?"

I tried not to look bitter when I pulled away, but I could tell Blaine sensed it instantly.

"Why do you always have to call me a kid?" I hugged the pillow to my chest. "I'd think after what we just did..."