All my life, I've only lived with people with whom I was intimately acquainted. A year after I finished grad school, however, I found myself under-employed and woefully underpaid. My options were move back in with my parents (unthinkable) or scour Craigslist for the cheapest roommate ad I could find. That's how I met Amber.
Big tits, an equally-proportioned ass and a shock of red hair that somehow screamed "Stripper!" even more than the rest of her body. The first time we met -- at would soon become
our
apartment --I thought living with this chick would be constant torture. She looked like she got around, but would be smart enough not to dabble with someone she shared rent with, meaning I was in for a 12-month lease of listening to one of the hottest women I'd ever laid eyes on getting railed ten feet from where I was trying to sleep. But I was desperate, and a year of sexual frustration beat the option of my mom waking me up for work every morning.
So Amber and I knocked back some drinks, I put my name on the lease and started moving in the next night. After she had my signature, she revealed that my first instincts were correct, she was a stripper (or "exotic dancer," as she phrased it) and as I learned on night one, she liked to bring her work home with her. Often.
"I want you right here," said the male voice in the living room around 4 am.
"No, baby," Amber giggled. "I have a roommate now, but...ungh....ah, fuck it. He seems cool." From there, I heard it all. The walls were incredibly thin. At first, I cursed the gods, realizing that I would never get a full night's sleep sharing space with this vixen. Then, I thanked them, when I found out she gave off sex sounds that would give a monk a raging hard-on.
"Oh, yeah! FUCKING GIVE IT TO ME!" Amber screamed. The slapping flesh sounds led me to believe she was being pounded doggystyle, her fabulous tits swinging free or being groped from behind. All feelings of voyeur-shame faded as I pulled my dick out and began to stroke it.
"I thought you said you have a roommate now," the male visitor said, obviously not giving a fuck who he disturbed.
"Oh, fuck him, just fucking fill me up with your cum!" Amber screamed. From the sound of it, they both got off at the same time. I joined them, blowing a massive load at the thought of pussy I would likely never get and be constantly taunted with.
This will be fun
, I thought, as I cleaned myself off,
and potentially horrible
.
The next morning, I was looking forward to beginning the weekend with laundry, drinks with friends, and not a thought of my temptress roommate. With one step out of my bedroom, however, I found that would be impossible. I'd become accustomed to living alone and ventured out for the shower wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. The kitchen was directly across from my room and Amber was there, cooking what appeared to be an elaborate breakfast in nothing but matching black, lacey bra and panties.
"Oh, hey," she said. She was obviously surprised, but made no effort to cover herself up. I, on the other hand, made every effort to conceal my instant erection. "I was wondering when you'd wake up. Want some breakfast?"
"Um...sure, yeah," I stammered.
"I hope you don't mind that I'm not wearing much," she said, demurely. "It gets so hot in here when I'm cooking and..." she turned toward and immediately caught sight of the growing tent in my shorts. "Well, it looks like you're okay with it," she said with a giggle and a smile that nearly caused me to blow a load on the spot.
"Ha, sorry about that," I managed to say.
"Oh, honey, don't ever apologize for a hard-on. Each one is a gift from God."
"Hey, do I have time to hop in the shower before breakfast?" I asked.
"Take as much time as you need." She smiled knowingly and made a show of bending down to get a pan from the drawer under the stove.
She had my number. As soon as the bathroom door was closed I turned on the shower and began to beat off furiously. I quickly came so hard I was sure she heard my ecstatic moan.
I made a show of taking a long shower, but when I came back out to the kitchen, I could tell Amber wasn't convinced. "Have a good time?" she asked with a smile. She gave a cruel laugh as she dished up some scrambled eggs. I sat down before she could see that my raging hard-on had returned with full force. I didn't think I could be any more turned on than I was at that moment. That night she showed me I was wrong.
I the evening, she went to work, and I went out with friends. I woke up late that night with an engorged beer bladder and stumbled to the bathroom, still slightly tipsy. I ran into Amber in the hall, seeing her in the dim light, I thought for a moment that I must be still sleeping and enjoying some kind of dream about a perfect sex goddess. She was wearing a red lace bra, with matching see-through panties with thigh-high gartered stockings. In her heels, her breasts were at perfect eye level. The hallway was more than wide enough for the two of us, but she made a point of brushing her soft, scented body against me as we past.
"Whoops, sorry, roomie," she said in the coy tone she used to torment me. "This hallway just isn't big enough. It's too small."
Just then, her bedroom door opened and hall filled with red-tinted light. I felt like a nocturnal insect sent scurrying for the dark. Before I could reach the safety of the bathroom, however, a perfectly muscled male specimen about a foot taller than myself darkened Amber's doorway. I mumbled something about how badly I had to piss and made my escape.
As I leaned against the door to catch my breath, I could overhear the two of them talking.
