New Roommate

First of all I want my readers to know that all of my stories were written for fun. So I hope that they are read for the same purpose. Most of my stories are written as if recalling them from memory. Please enjoy!

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Our new roommate from India is a really nice guy. His name is Ammar. It has been about a month since he moved in and we have gone on hikes and made dinner with him several times. He is the kind of guy that we can just sit with and talk about anything. On one of these nights, we are sitting on the couch relaxing and drinking wine. After a few glasses we are pretty happy and the mood is mellow. We turn the light down halfway and the fire is going.

The conversation turns to sex with some reference about old girlfriends and Ammar tells us that he has never had a white girlfriend. After some hilarious conversation Ammar says that he thinks white women must look very different from Indian women. We both laugh and say that there is no difference, but he will not believe it. He insists that there must be a difference because the skin color is so dissimilar.

Thirty minutes later we are still debating when finally Ammar says, "Until I see proof, I simply can't believe it."

Because you are so eager to prove your point, you tell him, "Well then I will just have to show you." The look on Ammar's face is priceless when you lift up your shirt and pull it over your head. You set it in my lap and pull one breast, and then the other from your bra.

Ammar is speechless for the first time in an hour. But he is very observant and inquisitive at the same time. He studies them for a moment and because of his upbringing when he finally finds his voice, he says, "You have the most wonderful breasts I have ever seen. They are like creamy white blossoms." Your cheeks get red from the compliment and because you are showing him your breasts.

Thinking that he is convinced you say, "See, skin color doesn't make any difference."

Smiling he shakes his head negatively. "Breasts are one thing, but down there" he points between your legs, "is a whole different story. It cannot be the same."

Intent on finishing what you started, you lean back on the couch putting your thumbs into your waistband. Making sure that you include your panties, you pull them down and set them on top of your shirt which is still in my lap.

Flushed and a little taken aback, Ammar stares wide eyed as you scoot forward so that your butt rests on the edge of the couch and you spread your legs so that he has a full view of your bare pussy. Not forgetting himself Ammar says, "This lotus flower is white as snow and just as lovely."

"It's doesn't stay white" you tell him, "When I get turned on the blood flows into it and turns it more red."

"AHA!" he says, "There is a difference."

"But we are not talking about color." you say.

"Yes, but how will I know if I have not seen it?" he asks.

Having come this far, your conviction doesn't let you give up. "I guess I just have to demonstrate." Already slightly turned on by this sequence of events your pussy is turning a darker pink and you reach down with your fingers and give yourself a slow massage. You work your lips around until they start to swell and your fingers draw out the juices that have been building up. Once your fingers are slippery, you move them to your clit and press on it, moving it back and forth, up and down. Feeling the warmth with your hand you pull it away, confident that it is swollen and aroused.

"A white lotus that turns into a red rose in full bloom! I have never seen anything so amazing in all my life. This is the difference that I am talking about and it is truly a pleasure to behold."

Your cheeks are now as red as your pussy and you smile from ear to ear. "I still don't think that there is a difference if you leave color out of it."

"You may be correct on that point, but from where I'm sitting this difference is quite significant." Feeling as though you have proven your point, you pull your bra back over your breasts and I hand you your shirt. Once you have your shirt in place I give you back your panties and then your comfy pants and you sit up on the couch leaning back and relaxing. After asking Ammar a few more questions about Indian women and what their breasts and pussies look like, we retire into our bedrooms and you jump me the second I close the door.