Author's Note: I originally posted the story under a different penname, but due to some serious privacy issues I'd been having, I took it down, along with my audios. So, I'm starting again and being more careful. So forgive me if I'm not as responsive as I once was. It's hard to trust people.
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I always looked up to Blaine; she was like the big sister I never had. Blaine taught me everything, from how to walk in heels to getting a guy to pay for your drinks. I really loved it; hell, I loved her. It killed me to admit it, but I really did. Not in the awkward way a brother loves a sister, or the passionate way a husband loves a wife, but in a secret, silent way that was embarrassing to think about.
But as I sank lower into my bubble bath, I started to think about it more and more. Had I always felt this way? Did it show? My mind wandered to the scene of my thirteenth birthday. Blaine was eighteen and way past the age for showing up at kiddy parties, but she came anyway, toting bags of makeup and stuffed animals. There had to have been at least ten or fifteen other kids there, but she was the only one I saw. That night, in the basement when she was loading my lips with blush, I kissed her cheek and asked her to run away with me.
"You're such a sweetheart," she had said, ruffling my hair. I had felt like such an idiot then and the same way even now. Blaine knew everything and I knew nothing.
I let my breasts bob on the surface of the water for a moment and ran a fingertip over the soft flesh of one nipple. They weren't as nice as Blaine's, as I had observed one day during a bit of topless sunbathing at the beach. Hers were this lovely pale pink, just like her lips, and much smaller than mine.
As I rolled the brown bud back and forth between my fingers, I thought of how Blaine might like it if I did the same to her. I closed my eyes and gave it a little pinch, all the while picturing my roommate lying beneath me, red hair fanned out on the bed. Part of me wasn't sure it was what I really wanted, but the idea definitely seemed nice.
"Blaine," I whispered her name out loud and trailed a hand down my stomach, lazily. Just as I parted my thighs, the bathroom door swung open.
"Hey roomie!"
I jumped, splashing water everywhere, but Blaine just looked in and laughed. I adored that laugh, even if it was at my own expense.
"Sorry honey," she started peeling down her stockings. "Was I interrupting something a little naughty?"
"No!" I snapped and contemplated getting out of the bath. It was just too hard to concentrate when she was standing in front of me, undressing like that.
"Can't you do that in your room?" I whined, trying my best not to watch. Blaine just smiled.
"Is that water warm?" she asked once she was down to her bra and panties.
"Sorta..." I blew some of the bubbles around and then stopped. "You're not thinking of getting in, are you?"
Blaine pulled hair into a ponytail and then twisted that up into a bun.
"Why shouldn't I? You're taking ages." she gave me another smile, and I couldn't bring myself to protest. She looked so lovely with all that red hair framing her face. Thinking about it made me remember a time when I was younger and tried to dye mine to match hers. It would have been perfect...if I had known what the hell I was doing. I put in too much, left the dye in for too long, and when Blaine came to my aid to rinse it for me, my hair fell out in clumps.
"What's your rush?" When I looked up again, Blaine had her bra off and was stepping out of her panties. I turned back to the tub as quickly as possible, and pretended I hadn't seen anything.
"Big date tonight," she slid into the tub behind me and sighed. We hadn't taken baths together since we were little, and even then I had been self conscious.
"Big date, huh?" I felt a little jealous of her. Blaine was always getting dates, which meant as soon as she came home with them, which she always did, I was confined in my room until they decided to stop fucking.
"Yeah. Met him at work when he came in for a coffee. His name is Mark. Nice guy, really. I want you to meet him." Blaine started to rub her soapy hands on my back. She always did have a problem with self-control.
"I don't want to—
"—you're so lucky you've got bit tits," Blaine interrupted me and squeezed them together with a giggle.
"Blaine!" I splashed her in the face with the bathwater and she let go, laughing still.
"You're so damn sensitive," she took my hands and placed them on her small breasts. "See? Feel them. I don't care."
I kept my hands there, even after she had let go, and ran my fingertips across her nipples. Blaine smiled curiously at me.
"Mark likes big tits too, you know..." she said once I let my hands fall away.
"What do I care?" I huffed. "He's gonna be fucking you, not me."
Blaine chuckled right against my earlobe. "Mm, yeah...that's right, isn't it?"
The tickle of her warm breath made me flush.
"You're such a whore," I sank lower into the water with a nasty scowl on my face. I hadn't meant it seriously, and I knew she knew that.
"At least I'm not a virgin," Blaine pushed me down under the water and I came back up, coughing.
"I am not!" I grabbed her shoulders and tried to push her down in return, but she looped her arms through mine and held us together.
I didn't mind it at all, really. Even though we were both slippery with soap and water, chests still pressed tight against mine. With a little smile, she ran a hand over my thigh.
"Pretty much though, right? You've only slept with what...one guy?" Blaine's hand traveled over my bottom, but she didn't spank or squeeze. She just left it there, casually.
"Two," I corrected. My heart was racing, but I tried not to let my arousal show. "Maybe I just don't need a cock in me at all times."
"Maybe you don't like cock at all..." she teased. "Is it pussy you're after?"
I opened my mouth to protest, and then shut it. I didn't even want to hear myself answer that question.
'Maybe I like both,' I thought angrily.
"Don't get all serious; I'm just kidding," Blaine spanked me this time, and then pulled the drain plug with her toes. "Now stand up and help me rinse off."
I turned on the overhead shower and did so with no protest. I felt nervous, rubbing the soap on her skin, and then clearing it away, but Blaine didn't seem to mind at all. She wasn't shy about massaging the soap into my breasts, and even sponging between my legs. I wanted to tell her to stop and give me a little space, but I couldn't find the strength to deny myself of her touch. She was so gentle, so motherly as she washed me; I found myself wanting to hug her as she shampooed my hair.
"Tired?" she murmured. Her voice was soothing and without its usual humorous undertone.
"A little," I rubbed my sponge between her shoulder blades. "I wish you didn't have to go out..."
"Aww, you're such a sweetheart," Blaine whispered in my ear.
Hearing those familiar words stirred anger within me, but before I could snap at her, Blaine just turned up the shower flow and rinsed off. I stood there for a while after she got out and watched her fix herself up for the date.
"Are you sure this guy is nice?" I finally stepped out and wrapped a towel around myself. Blaine let her hair down and started curling it.
"Very," she smiled to herself. "Like I said, you should meet him."
"I'll pass. I've met nice guys before." I tugged my robe on and followed Blaine out of the room when she was done.
"But obviously not enough of them. You should put out more, sweetheart." She stepped into a pair of strappy black heels that matched her thong panties, and didn't bother with a bra.
I didn't respond to Blaine. Instead, I sprawled out on her unmade bed and watched her struggle to pick an outfit. She finally decided on a dress she'd bought weeks ago, but never worn. It was a backless mini that I hated, with a low draped front. It was easy to see the swell of her breasts, and with just a slight bend at the waist, she'd be flashing anyone who stood behind her.
I wanted to tell her not to wear it, but I knew there was no point. The more I protested the more keen she'd be on leaving the house in it.
As I stared up at the ceiling, Blaine sprayed on perfume and went over a series of chores she wanted me to do. Of course I wasn't going to do a single one, but I thought nodding and "mhm-ing" was the right thing to do.
When the doorbell rang downstairs, I followed behind Blaine sluggishly, just to get a look at the guy she'd be leaving with. They greeted each other with a series of overzealous kisses, but I didn't really react. Like I said, Blaine didn't have much self-control. Part of me couldn't blame her, either. Mark really wasn't bad looking. He was sort of...gorgeous.
I hid at the top of the stairs instead of facing them together, and stared. He looked a bit older than Blaine, probably in his early thirties, but he looked good for it. Nice smile, clean shaven, good hair. Real hair.
It was a step up from some of the undeserving assholes I'd seen her parading about with. He looked corporate almost, very important and distinguished.
Putting out worthy.
I started feeling a little jealous again, but not for the same reason as before.
'Maybe I should have more sex,' I thought solemnly of the stash of toys I had shoved in the back of my closet.
I was too picky when it came to men, and I almost always ended up chickening out when it came to the sex.
It wasn't as if I wasn't interested in it – I was definitely interested in it – I just didn't feel like going through countless men to find the one to hit the right spot for me. Two nights of bad sex over two years was two nights too many.
