Today was the day. After all I had witnessed I had finally decided I was sick of it. Sick of the shouting, the denial, the ignorance and the late night arguments, the early morning ones too.
It had been six months since I came into your apartment as a roommate, however I hadn't expected the storm that the household was in, and quite frankly I didn't understand it. To start, the 'apartment' that you two had graciously offered me was more or less the size of a house, so I found it difficult to believe there were any problems in your life. However once I had listened in on a few of your quarrels I finally understood the situation. Your girlfriend was a dead fish in bed.
This piece of information did not come as a surprise to me though. I had known Tracey all my life and it definitely fit her personality. She would certainly keep her body in shape for peak performance and social media attention but when it came to the nightly activities she had neither performance or attention for any of it.
Tracey had grown accustomed to having high expectations of her partners. So much so that they eventually all realised she didn't meet their's, and she was none the wiser. All of her men were just meant to provide and be both cameraman and model as she went about flaunting and seducing her fans on the internet, explaining to them that they should be jealous of the attention she got, it was her after all.
So when I figured out the situation I definitely giggled, more importantly, I was impressed. You had managed to stick with her for the better part of three years, longer than any other had, and despite her constant rejections of your bedroom ideas, you stayed loyal. Not only had you done that but you found a way to release your stress, didn't you?
At first I thought you were luring me, however I soon realized you had just been complacent as you left the door open, stroking and edging yourself to a strong and glorious climax. I had seen that day, and it had now become my new hobby to peek in on your sessions once in awhile, but who could blame me? your girlfriend had high expectations. If she was Eve, you were Adam, if she was a model, you were a pornstar, it was almost uncanny how you weren't as conceited or selfish as she was.
All this had led to the current situation. Last night you had your biggest argument yet, not because of the volume, but because of the topic of conversation, you. Tracey had gone on the offensive as always, berating you that you were lucky and all the usual crap, but this time she attacked your interests.
Now, for the record, you weren't the kinkiest man ever, but you liked what you liked and you were firm in that, which is admirable. But to her, who barely qualified as vanilla, you were a perverted animal. So as I listened to her degrade you about wanting oral and maybe a facial here and there, my ears perked up once she mentioned your nylon fetish.
In my experience, I had a conflicted relationship with men and their want for lingerie. I personally loved dressing up to fuck, but whenever it came time, they would just look me over hungrily before undressing me. This confused me as there was no difference to regular sex at this point, if I had put on lingerie, then fuck me in it! The only time I had been was when my partner of the night hadn't removed my thigh-high stockings because "he couldn't wait", talk about lame.
My already building interest increased as she continued scolding you about your 'thing for feet', as she called it. Which as common as it apparently is, I had not had experience in, I had definitely done the research to quench my eagerness, however the opportunity never arose. So as my consciousness faded and Tracey's voice receded into the recesses of the night, I dreamt of my plan to reward you, if she didn't want you, it was my turn.
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I had woken up earlier than usual, today was THE day after all. I had finished my workout and had my shower, returning to my room I slipped my towel off and looked at myself in the mirror. Although I wasn't slim I liked to keep myself in shape, in comparison to Tracey's lithe hourglass figure and sizeable breasts I preferred how pear shaped I was, my wide hips giving room for my tight ass to shine on any social occasion followed by my smaller c cup breasts, that remained perky and alluring even if they weren't the biggest in the room.
I slipped into my planned sheer black lace cropped cami, a favourite of mine as it clung to my skin, promoting my assets without squeezing them. I then slid my matching black lace panties up my legs before opening the mirrored closet and retrieving my favourite dildo. I proceeded to climb onto my bed before kneeling to face the mirror, I still had time to kill before Tracey left and I wasn't going to waste it. As I tied my cherry coloured hair back and looked myself in the mirror, I winked, "damn I look hot" I whispered to myself as I lowered myself onto my pleasure rod.
Half an hour had past before there was any signs or sounds of movement in the house, and in this time I had broken into a light sweat between the gasps and moans of me impaling myself, however I didn't stop. I maintained eye contact with myself as I worked my hips against my faux rod, my pretty French tipped nails slowly circling away at my clit as I moaned and soaked my bed sheets, my dripping wet pussy easily keeping up with my pleasure, as it had done on many occasions, my limit was far in sight.
The minutes flew by as I continued my warm up, my built up excitement finally easing once my door opened and Tracey peered in, I took my hand away from my pubic area, but my hips remained in constant motion. "Oh my... " Tracey said while averting her gaze. "What's with the unexpected visit?" I asked, nonchalantly. She paused, taking a moment to herself before forcing out,
