My Roomies Girlfriend

It was a magical time, 1972. Me and three buddies, and occasional girlfriends, shared a big house on a shady street in a middle class neighborhood, in a nondescript town. But the time, as I said, was magical. Before the year was over most of us had slept with each other, sometimes in a pile – but this story is about one special night, in the late spring…

We had all gotten in the habit of gathering around the TV in the evening, talking over the noise, drinking and smoking until gradually, one by one, we dropped off to sleep, eventually awakening to drag ourselves off to bed. Usually we didn’t have much on in the way of clothes, so although the girlfriends tended to cover up a bit more than the guys, peeking was definitely in order.

On this magical evening it was just me, my roomie Fred, and his current love, Katherine. Now Katherine was a shy little thing, cute as a button, fond of a particular long silk robe, under which she generally wore nothing. Now silk is a funny fabric – even when you can’t see anything, you can see everything, you know. And we all loved Katherine’s robe, and here beautiful jiggling breasts, and her luscious pink nipples that she occasionally allowed us to glimpse, and her pale white legs, and the shadowy mystery at the top of her stairs…

Anyway, Fred had dropped off to sleep, Katherine was curled up next to him on the sofa, watching some old black and white movie on the tube, and I was ensconced in my ancient lazy boy, slightly aglow and nodding out myself, eyes barely slitted against the dim light from the tube. I must have looked like I was asleep. Suddenly, I realized that my shorts had slid to the side, my dick was fully exposed, and Katherine, sweet Katherine, was surreptitiously enjoying the view. Very much, in fact, or so it appeared, as her eyes continued to dart back and forth between the television screen and me.

Well, simply arriving at this realization provoked a, shall we say, chemical reaction somewhere down in the base of my semen factory, and slowly, the mast began to rise on my schooner.

Now, some would say that at this point one should graciously withdraw, or think of something else, or at least cover up. But no, in the enchanted space of this time, I could hardly deny such a beautiful young lady the pleasure she was clearly experiencing. Keeping my eyes nearly closed, I allowed my prick to continue to grow, fully exposed and in the open, to its full, engorged, eight inch splendor.

Katherine was entranced, no longer even pretending to look at the screen. Was I asleep, she must have wondered? Fred continued to sleep on the couch beside her. I moaned softly, as though in a dream. A wet dream of beautiful, pale, brunette Katherine. My hand, lying open on my leg, moved to my cock and touched it lightly. Katherine gasped, a gasp of simultaneous shock and lust. I stroked the tube of my organ, and she began to breathe heavily. Suddenly, realizing that I was about to openly masturbate, she bounced up and left the room… only to return only seconds later, fidgeting in her seat and looking at me expectantly.

I could not disappoint her. Still pretending to be asleep, I began to beat my meat, making sure that she got a good look at the full length of my rod between strokes – my swollen, increasingly purple cockhead, the turgid stalk, the tightening ballsack. I actually slumped back in the chair slightly, and thrust my hips forward, so she could get an even better view. This had to be better, I thought, than an old movie – in the dim light, I could almost see myself through her eyes, and knew for sure that what was happening was the kind of experience she would never forget.

Gradually, she came closer, actually kneeling by my side, watching me slide my oh so excited member in and out of my tightening and loosening fist. I stopped stroking for a moment, and just held it out for her to look at, opening my eyes and meeting hers in a glorious moment of erotic realization.

“You’re going to cum, aren’t you?” she whispered. Yes, I replied, and I want you to see… and for the next 15 minutes we shared a moment totally out of time. I masturbated like Picasso must have masturbated, totally focused on creating a monument of ecstasy for both of us. When I finally came – gallons – we both slumped backward, truly drained by the experience. For the last time, we looked into each others eyes, and knew we had shared something few lovers share. Yet, it was just a magical moment. We were not lovers, nor would we be.

Tingling, we gathered ourselves and, trancelike, retired to our beds.