"Yo, Marcus!" I yelled down the corridor from my building's front entrance as my upstairs neighbour was waiting for the elevator. He waited till I got a little closer to reply.
"Hey, Daniel! What's cooking?"
"Not much." I made my way to his right and joined him in wait for our ride.
"How's Shelley?" he asked. "If you all are gonna be goin' at it again tonight, lemme know. I'll wear earplugs," he said with a chuckle.
I nervously laughed as well, not knowing anyone could hear us from the comfort of our own apartment.
"Jeez," I tried to play it off with swagger, "I didn't take you to be such a prude, pal."
The elevator doors opened and we both hopped on. I pressed 11, Marcus 12.
"Nah, bro," he started, "I'm just yanking your chain. I guess I gotta be gentle though; it sounds like you had your chain yanked a lot last night."
"Ugh, yeah. She's wild, man."
"I could imagine. It was basically you making all the noise."
For some reason, that last comment ignited a little jealous spark inside me. There were plenty of times I had overheard Marcus giving a girl his special treatment. Often they were left gasping like it was all they could muster in response to what must've been a healthy dose of pleasure. Our bedrooms were directly in line with each other's.
Shelley was a different kind of girl though. She was quiet in bed, which is what I told Marcus in rebuttal. That's just who she is. Despite this, she jovially attested to my sexual prowess time and time again. The quieter she was, the harder she came.
I always felt like a tall guy at 5'11", but whenever I had to talk to Marcus, he knocked my ego down a few pegs, no pun intended. I had to look up to make eye contact. For anyone who doesn't have the benefit of my height to know, that doesn't happen often. I asked him once how tall he was and he said he was 6'5". I never forgot that response. For some reason, it engrained itself in my brain. I'd be lying if I said it didn't bring on some stupid bout of jealousy every time I talked to him. Simply standing in front of him seriously reinforced the difference. Don't ask me why; guys are dumb. It's like how we get jealous over dick size even though everyone knows it doesn't matter. If lesbians can cum with
no
dick, then size definitely isn't a factor for female pleasure! Knowing this is what always steadied my emotions when I thought about how my dick is slightly--just slightly--below the average.
I won't lie, the height difference between us wasn't the only thing that got me a little insecure from time to time. I know this will sound a little fucked, but bear with me...
I'm white, Marcus is black. I know that shouldn't matter. I'm not racist at all! In fact, I've never bonded with anyone as well as I have with him. I'm all for equal rights and I love how nowadays people are coming together to push for more inclusivity. There's just maybe one tiny downside to it; with more praise shown to black people, they are being viewed in a progressively more attractive light. As if black individuals are better sexual partners, hotter, and more masculine. I may be white, but I'm still pretty masculine myself.
I know Shelley loves me, and so did my last girlfriend, which is why it didn't make sense for me to feel this way. That--as irrational as it may be--is what I focused on every time I needed to calm myself down from having doubts about my relationship or myself as a mate.
Just as the elevator stopped at my floor, Marcus reconfirmed something that we talked about a couple days ago.
"So you two will come up to get that table on Tuesday, right?"
"Yup! As long as it's still good for you. We said 2:00, yeah?"
The elevator opened and I stepped out, still looking back awaiting his reply.
"Uh-huh, that works for me. And hey, just feel free to come in, bro. You know me--I love company. We can even have a beer or something."
"Sounds good! See you, Marcus."
"Later."
As I entered my unit, I found my beautiful girlfriend sprawled out on the living room couch. She wasn't just laying down--she was fucking masturbating!
Her hand was working underneath the hem of her pink, lacy panties.
"Fuck yes, babe," I exclaimed as soon as I put my bags down.
"Oh God," she said in a breathless huff. "I didn't think you'd be back so soon."
"And? I'm your boyfriend, remember? Here's some wild information for you: guys actually don't mind walking in on their girlfriends near-naked, going at it like a horny rabbit."
"Stop," she said, obviously embarrassed. Though not embarrassed enough to stop rubbing her pussy.
I watched in wonderment as she began to moan a little louder. She refocused herself as if I wasn't even there.
I knew those noises. She was always more vocal when she played with herself. That's just the way she is. Specifically, I knew she was getting close.
Still standing by the door, I kicked off my shoes and took off my hoodie. I quickly shuffled over to her and knelt down by her legs. My tongue was ready to pounce; it had decided to join in.
"No!" she exclaimed, actually removing her fingers from her slit to conceal her cunt. "I'm so close. I wanna do it myself."
I won't lie--I was frustrated as hell. But I played the good boyfriend and gave a nod and a smile and backed away. I sat on the floor and leaned back, holding myself up with my elbows locked. The show was almost as good as being in the shot anyways.
Almost.
I watched on as she made herself cum in less than a minute.
Her eyes were closed as she relished in the come-down. I looked on in awe of her beauty. Once she finally opened her eyes, she laughed seeing that I still had my gaze fixed upon her. I joined in the chuckle.
"What got you so worked up? It's been a while since I found you like that."
"I don't know," she admitted, still breathless. "I must be ovulating or something."
That night, we had the hottest sex I can recall having. She was quiet as usual, but I was convinced by the way her pussy was squeezing against my cock that she had in as much heaven as I was. It had been a long time since I came that hard. I filled the condom right up.
We cuddled each other snuggly and fell asleep in each other's arms.