Sideic

It was all Erika's fault, really. No, for real!

Erika and I had been flatmates for a year or more, when that fateful evening happened. She had some boy coming over, which was fine, and I was planning to just hang out in my room to give them space.

"Um, hon?" Erika knocked softly and poked her head around my door. I looked up from my phone. I had been scrolling social media instead of doing something useful, despite planning to make good use of a whole evening by myself by knocking a few items off my neglected to-do list. But nope, I was actually just scrolling.

"Um, so he's here, but..." I got a shrinking feeling. Her tone suggested something was wrong. Was he hideous? Had he done something awful already? He had only just arrived. I had heard the door just moments earlier.

She continued, sheepishly, "he's sort of brought a friend along."

How can you "sort of" bring a friend along?

I stared at her, waiting for her to get to the point.

She didn't.

"Ok...?" I responded.

"Well, I was just wondering. You know, since you're not doing anything..." she increased the sweetness of her voice.

"Oh, no! No. no no. I'm not coming out there. Look at me!" I protested. And I had good reason, too. I mean, I was in my comfy flannel PJ pants, my hair was just in a clip on top of my head, and I had an oversized t-shirt with no bra. What a disaster!

"Oh, come on, you can throw something on. Pleeeeease?" she begged.

I turned back to my phone, "You've gotta be kidding. No way. I'm a mess! Besides, I was just about to..." I couldn't think immediately of what was actually on my do-do list, so I mumbled something unintelligible and hoped to get away with it.

She sidled across and kneeled next to me, "Oh, what do you mean 'a mess'? C'mon. You're always gorgeous. Look at you. You're hot!" She suddenly stole my clip, letting my hair fall down, and she scrunched and floofed it playfully. "Omg, you're fucking beautiful. Come on and meet the boys. You don't have to do anything, just be nice. Good company, you know? C'mon. I really want this evening to go well with Neil."

Neil, was it? Oh, brother. Why could she never do things for herself? And how did she always know which buttons to press? With all the compliments she was showering on me, I was wavering.

She sensed it. She jumped up and threw open my closet. "Here!" she pulled out a little black dress animatedly and thrust it at me.

"No way! What, am I, for sale now?" I objected.

She giggled, sensing that she had me on the hook, and we were no longer arguing about whether I would come, just haggling over outfits. She dove back into the closet and pulled out a much more casual dress, a floral print with a full skirt above the knee, and a scoop neck. I had to admit, I would feel pretty in that one.

I hesitated. That was all she needed. She knew she had me. "I'll see you in 5 minutes. Can't wait to introduce my pretty little roommate!" She skipped out triumphantly, leaving me to sigh, and assess what I had got myself into. At least I had waxed on Wednesday.

So about 15 minutes later, after two nudges during that time from Erika, I emerged and allowed her to parade me around in front of the two guys who were both seated on our small sofa. She introduced me not like two strangers meeting for the first time. Far from it. She was all over me, suggestively running her fingers through my hair, holding me around my waist, and gushing about how pretty I am (I'm not really. I'm just a regular girl).

It was very flattering, and the boys loved it. I mean, why wouldn't they? it was almost like she had a crush on me, the way she fawned. Once I had said hello to Neil, and his friend Greg, I expected her to tone it down a bit, but... well, that wasn't how it went down.

Now, Erika knows well the effect vodka has on me. She has been with me when I've had a few vodkas and, well, become less than lady-like! So I should have known what was happening when she put a shot of vodka in my hand, and one each for everyone else, and loudly said, "Skol!", because she is Danish, and that's what they say there.

I couldn't really say no, at that point, so I drank, along with the others. She immediately poured another one, and shouted, "Skol!" again, so there was another one down the hatch.

The effect of the alcohol probably takes a little while, but for me, the association is so strong I start to feel uninhibited as soon as I smell that naughty elixir. Erika knew this, and went back to telling the boys how pretty I am, and how nice my eyes are, and how pretty my hands are... she was casting a sort of spell over me, as I surrendered into the state of mind I blame on vodka, and the showering of compliments. All the while she was touching me in each place she was talking about, but from behind me, sort of embracing me. It became a kind of sensual dance.

The boys were stunned into inactivity, just absorbing the sensual show.

"... and look at those legs, those gorgeous, smooth legs.", Erika continued, reaching down in exaggerated movements to run her hand upwards from my knee, slowly up to the hemline of my dress and, still talking about, "... they just go on forever and ever, don't they...", she continued upward.

I was stuck. I couldn't break the spell, but I was starting to feel a little exposed. Erika's hand was halfway up the front of my thigh and still sliding upwards as she praised my body, lavishing me with affirmations that were as heady as the vodka.

For a couple of moments, I had some resolve. I stood still as she performed her increasingly erotic little show, but didn't join in. Her hand touched the edge of my underwear, and she said, "Ooh, boys, I'd love to show you what's under here, but instead, I'll just describe it to you..." My resolve broke as she slid her hand back under my sex, stroking the outside of my underwear firmly so that I could feel the pressure and friction of her touch. My knees bent slightly, and angled outwards slightly, and I leaned back slightly, and a moan escaped my lips slightly.

Erika kept narrating her hand's exploration, accusing my of the arousal I was experiencing, bearing my secrets, telling my lust. Surely by now the vodka was taking effect, and I could no longer be blamed for my shameful indulgence of this provocation. The vodka was to blame. It was Erika's fault.

Her other hand swept across my torso and tenderly addressed my breasts from outside the dress. She began cooing and gasping, and describing my breasts as though I were some kind of super model. I had to hand it to her, she made me, a very normal girl, feel like a rock star as she eagerly touched and tweaked each breast in time with her now rhythmic stroking of my underwear and the achingly tender flesh beneath it.

"She's getting wet," she lied. I mean I was aroused, but it hadn't yet reached the point of wetting the fabric she could feel. But when she said it, it became true very rapidly. Was it the power of suggestion? Was it the scandalous way she was exposing me to these men I didn't know? I blame the vodka. I blame Erika.

"I can tell she likes you, Greg." she lied again. I mean, how would she even know that? I hadn't had a chance to show it, even if it were true! But it didn't matter. It wasn't about the truth. She was manipulating him, and it was working. Greg grimaced, clearly getting uncomfortable as his erection developed.

Erika noticed it too, and teased, "Ooh, and I can see Greg likes you, too, Shynalee." Gah, what a bitch. She was just manipulating the whole situation. It was delicious. I moaned in response, throwing my head back on her shoulder and spreading my legs further. She quickened her stroking, and her other hand found its way inside my neckline to grope my breast.

"So Greg... my arms are getting tired, but my flatmate here is really enjoying all the attention. Would you be a sweetie and jump in to take my place?"

Greg's eyes bugged open in disbelief. He apparently started to appreciate only at that moment what Erika was actually doing. He stood up awkwardly and adjusted the front of his pants with some difficulty before coming around behind me where Erika was. She guided his hands into place to replace hers, and just like that, I was being groped by a stranger.

Erika poured another vodka, not for everyone, just for me. She handed it to me silently, and I took it and drank it. My fate was sealed.

Erika found her way to snuggle up next to Neil on the sofa, and started stroking his erection through his pants. She also began narrating and directly my molestation in a matter-of-fact tone, as she and Neil settled in for the show.

I looked her in the eye with an accusing stare. She knew exactly what she was doing when she invited Neil over. I was starting to suspect she asked him to bring his friend. She wasn't going to get off the hook too easy. I would be staring her down the whole time, to make her ashamed of herself.

"She's really liking that, Greg. You're doing a great job. Do you know what, though? she doesn't really need those knickers any more, does she? How about you just slide those down and off her? They're just in the way..." she was just as sweet as honey, encouraging the obviously inexperienced young man.

She hadn't addressed me, so I was just left to endure the indignity of being stripped in front of this little audience. Greg grabbed and yanked at my knickers, tugging them down to my ankles with no finesse at all. I stepped out of them and, meeting Erika's eyes again with a defiant look, I spread my legs wide, and Greg's awkward hands found their way into places where he clearly had no expertise. It didn't matter. I was staring Erika down, so I kept those legs open as far as I could, just to prove a point to her. Curse that vodka!

"Would you like that dress to come off, Greg? I bet you'd like that. There's a hook at the top of the back, and then it should just slide down." She had to give him the step-by-step, the poor guy. He clearly didn't know what he was doing. As he fumbled around, I kept staring her down, so she left off stroking her date's erection to poor me another vodka. I took it and drank it without breaking eye contact, and finally the dress came away and slid down over my body.

I was glad I had selected a pretty bra. It was all I had left on my body, at that point. Greg was going to have no idea what to do with it, so I reached around behind and just released it for him. Then I took each of his hands and guided them to run all over my body, ignoring the dangling bra. With a parting glare at Erika, I turned around and kissed Greg deeply, letting his hands go wherever his pent-up fantasies had been anticipating for so long.

"Oh, now we're in for a show," I heard her say, with the sound of rustling and wriggling. I glanced around to see she was getting Neil to remove his pants so that she could lie across the sofa giving him head while they both watched the show.

I spoke to Greg for the first time in our intimate encounter, "I want you to cum on my face. Would you like to do that?"

Poor guy, I think he almost swallowed his tongue. I slid down and began opening his trousers, and his whole body stiffened. It was an attempt to hold out for long enough, and to his credit he made it. I got his pants down and started on him, but just moments later he began squirting into my mouth, so I pulled back and had him shoot all over my face, and into my hair.

I gave his still pulsing penis some tender attention for a few moments, then stood up. I didn't go too close to his face, because I couldn't expect him to touch all that sticky cum, but I whispered close enough for him to hear, "turn me around and bang me from behind".

He turned me, much too gently, and then didn't shove me down to my knees, so I had to climb down myself. I wanted to be treated more roughly, so that I could make a point to Erika, but instead she just broke off from giving slow, rhythmic head, to gloat over my performance, just climbing down by myself to my hands and knees, with this stringy mess over my face. I kept eye contact with her in my shameful submission to this clearly inexperienced boy. When Greg had fumbled around enough to find where to put his junk, he finally dove in. Then my humiliation in front of Erika was at its zenith. I was reduced to arranging my own humiliation and submission. She was such a bitch for putting me in this situation. Nasty Erika and her nasty vodka. I bucked and moaned shamelessly, and of course a lot of it was embellishment on my part, because Greg really didn't have a handle on what he was doing, but Erika continued her supercilious air, even as she went back to sucking and thrusting on Neil's erection.

When Greg reached his grunting climax, I made a show of my own, which turned out to be real, if only because faking it under these humiliating circumstances was such a scandalous, dirty thing to do it actually turned me on.

I watched Erika quicken her pace, and strengthen the strokes she was administering, so that with expert skill she brought her man to his climax at precisely the moment of her choosing.

I thought the game would be finished at that point, but Erika had one more humiliation in mind for me. She gestured silently that I should lie on my back, so I did. I blame the vodka. She leaned over me and let the cum she had just received in her mouth dribble out onto my face, and I obediently opened my mouth to receive it. I could hear both the boys exclaiming softly, something like, "Woah!"

There was nothing I could do. I had plumbed the depths of depravity in this setting. I remained there, on display with the cum of two men dripping and drooling from my face and my sex. I just lay there, my legs open and my hand lazily swirling in the mess between my legs, as they all got dressed. The boys thanked Erika for a great night, and she let them leave without even acknowledging me. I was used up and discarded. It was inexcusable. It was hot. It was my best night ever.

Fucking Erika. How dare she?

You can probably imagine that wasn't the last time Erika took advantage of my weaknesses. I became her sort of "wingman". A sidekick. It was degrading. It was awesome.