Rooming With Roseann Pt 08

Barry learns that RoseAnn can be strict

A minor guilt nagged at me the rest of the afternoon. I should have told Gloria the truth about my 'aunt'. I could have said, 'I live with my woman friend' and that would have been sufficient. As things stood now, even if the two women met incidentally, a two-minute conversation between them would be enough to embarrass and humiliate all three of us. Right now, I had a lover and a new friend, but should the worst happen, I'd have neither.

I made up my mind to set the record straight with Gloria as soon as an opportunity presented itself. Who knows what the future might hold for any of us? No need to start things off with a lie. Gloria and I had only eaten sandwiches together. You couldn't even call it flirting. But no doubt about it--there was an instant attraction there, on both sides, and who knew how it might develop?

There was a gigantic reception and dance for the incoming freshmen that evening, but I'd already had enough of crowds for one day. I walked back to the apartment while the sun was still well above the horizon, passing joggers and citizens out walking their dogs, pooper-scoopers in hand. The sheaf of papers I carried in my hand must have made me look less suspicious, or perhaps it was common knowledge that this was the day the freshmen started at Stanford, and all sorts of strange folk would be about the neighborhood.

RoseAnn's BMW was parked in front of the garage. I hoped she'd made something hearty for supper tonight, and that it would be nice and hot, ready for the table. Through the window, I saw that the kitchen light was on, and looked forward to the cheery comfort of an evening with my lover.

"I'm back," I announced as I stepped in the door. RoseAnn was curled up at the end of the sofa with a glass of wine, listening to soft music. There was no smell of food in the air. I supposed she had made sandwiches, or planned to go out to eat.

"I'm glad," she said. "I'm starving."

"You could have started supper without me."

She chuckled in the back of her throat. "You don't understand. I expect

you

to make supper."

"Hey! It's been an exhausting day!" I snapped.

Her eyes opened wide in shock, but she recovered instantly and leaned forward. "How dare you! You should live my life for a few days.

Every

day is an exhausting day for me. I'm a woman engineer in a field where men want to run everything. Do you know what that's like? I have to work twice as hard as a man to get half the recognition. And if I'm not watching every minute, some man will grab the credit for work I've done."

"That's shitty," I said, frowning.

"It's my life," she said simply.

"I'm sorry. I'm tired and I wasn't thinking."

"That's not good enough." She pointed to the floor in front of her. "I expect a proper apology, on your knees, in front of me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Right here! Right now!"

Anger welled up, but my cock began to rise, too. I suppressed the urge to lash out, and went to my knees at her feet, and looked abjectly down at the floor. "I'm really sorry, RoseAnn."

"What are you sorry for?"

I thought a bit. "For...for snapping at you. For taking you for granted. It won't happen again, I promise." I kept my eyes lowered.

"I thought you and I had something going between us," she continued, as if I'd said nothing. "Understand this: We have an implied contract, you and I. In return for the sex--for what you've been enjoying--I expect you to do your share around here. I shouldn't have to stand over you like a drill sergeant. I expect you to

anticipate

my needs. Instead, I came home from a really difficult day at work, and there were dirty breakfast dishes on the counter. The bed wasn't made. And the bathroom sink..."

"I didn't know--"

"I expect you to learn. If you don't, you'll find that I'll become just like any other roommate. We'll share the rent and the chores, but there'll be no sex. Is that what you want?"

"No! Please, RoseAnn!" I was panicky. This was a side of her I hadn't seen before, and it took me by surprise. "Don't take that away. I'll learn."

"Yes, you will. Now go find something we can have for supper, and then cook it."

"Yes, RoseAnn," I said, and got up to go to the kitchen.

"And you can put that away for now," she said, gesturing at my crotch, which bulged with a full erection.

Why was I so excited, in spite of myself? The erection didn't appear from nowhere. Her anger had excited me, and the way she disciplined and humiliated me had pushed a button I didn't know existed. Every day, it seemed, I was finding more and more about myself, and I wasn't sure whether to fight it, or let it overwhelm me. To tell the truth, I didn't know how to fight it. But when I looked inside myself, all my resentment had drained away, leaving only my obsession with her.

As I rummaged through the kitchen cupboards, I tried to think of Gloria, but now that I was within RoseAnn's influence, this was impossible. I could only conjure mental images of RoseAnn's naked body, especially the view from my place between her legs: out-of-focus pubic hair, belly muscles rolling like ocean waves, breasts like twin volcanoes, pink lips open and gasping, wet brown eyes watching intently as I serviced her. As much as I loved her smile, too, I was enraptured by that smirk of triumph that flashed when she won a contest of wills.

I found a package of spaghetti and a jar of sauce, and took them to her. "Will this be all right?"

She nodded. "Anyone can make spaghetti. It's good enough while you're learning to cook. Put a half-teaspoon of basil in the sauce, and make sure the water's boiling before you put the spaghetti in. Stir it the whole time it's cooking, so it doesn't stick together. But first, refill my wine glass."

I brought the wine jug from the refrigerator, and filled her glass with great care. I didn't want to make her angry again.

"If you want to make up to me, you should strip now. I told you how I'd love to see you naked and doing things for me."

"Yes, Mistress." I began to turn back to the kitchen.

"Hey!" she said. "Look at me." I turned to face her again.

"Forget the 'Mistress' crap. This isn't some juvenile female domination fantasy. Forget any thoughts about thigh boots and whips and the other bullshit. You're here to fulfill

my

needs and

my

fantasies. Let's get that straight right now. When you talk to me, I'm just 'RoseAnn'. Now strip."

I set down the wine and peeled off my socks, shirt, tee shirt, slacks and briefs. My erection stood out as if I were straddling a fire nozzle. She twirled her finger in the air to indicate that I should turn around for her, which I did.

"Mm-m, nice," she said. "Now go make supper before my mood improves. I may end up putting you to work here instead." She pointed to her crotch.

It was difficult to study cooking directions and to find pots and spices while the clumsy boner protruded before me. When I had things almost organized, RoseAnn wandered to the kitchen and leaned against the doorway to watch. I felt her gaze run up and down my body as I worked, and an occasional 'Mm-m' of satisfaction, which only served to make me more erect and distracted.

I soon learned how spaghetti sauce spits and spurts when it's heated too quickly. Once or twice, I ended up dancing about as gouts of hot sauce hit my exposed chest and belly. I quickly put the cover on the pot and waited for the water to boil for the spaghetti.

"I think we can allow you to put an apron on while you're cooking. Too many hot and sharp things." She giggled. "That penis of yours is so delightfully big, I'd hate to see it get caught in the oven door. As it is, you'd better hop to it and clean up those spots of sauce on the stove and cupboards before they dry."

As I wiped up the sauce, she said, "I think you have a great build, but I'm afraid that the long hours of classes and your duties to me are going to let you get soft."

"What are you suggesting?" I said.

"I've got exercise equipment in my storage locker. Weights, press bench, stationary bike, and such. I think you should set it up in your bedroom. We can both use it."

"I always wondered how you got such a great body. Now your secret is out."

"Well, I got away from the exercise in the new job. It's the early mornings, the long hours and the tension and fatigue. But now that I have full-time help, that can change."

Full-time help.

Again my cock jumped, even though it was comfortably turgid to begin with. What was she doing to me? And what could I do about it? Nothing, really, I shrugged to myself. I'd be her 'help', her slave, her fucktoy, her pussy licker, whatever she wanted me to be, so long as it kept me in her bed.

I finally finished the supper, and put it on the table. While we ate, RoseAnn put a foot in my lap and teased my cock. She giggled like a girl, watching me try to eat while she stroked me with her toes. In spite of the unpromising beginning to the evening, it seemed that I wouldn't be disappointed afterward. Indeed, after I'd cleaned up the kitchen and dishes, she removed her blouse and slipped her bra straps from her shoulders. She sat in a straight chair and had me rub her shoulders as I stood behind her. Her flesh was warm and I basked in the scent of her body. I was gratified to feel the tension drain out of her. How selfish I'd been, complaining about my difficult day, while I'd been flirting with the gorgeous, red-headed daughter of a Nobel Laureate and eating free food. God knows what stresses RoseAnn had endured at work.

It was nearly nine o'clock, and she was sleepy and limp after the shoulder massage, so I took the initiative. I got a towel from the bathroom, and led her to the living room sofa. I spread the towel, sat her on it, and kissed her feet and calves and knees. She lay back with her eyes closed while I eased her skirt up, kissing as I went, until my lips reached the wonderful silken skin near the top of her inner thighs. I spent several minutes kissing her thighs and the damp gusset of her panties until her hips began to rock of their own accord, and she made little cries of need.

Now it was time to remove her panties, which I did in bits, kissing at the fringe of her pubic hair as it was revealed, and gradually touching her wet, swollen labia with my tongue-tip. She sighed loudly and tugged at my hair until we were fully joined, mouth to pussy, and the heaving of her hips grew desperate. After I'd licked carefully at her vagina for some time, I moved up to her clitoris. She let me take the lead and didn't object, and soon rode my mouth to a slow, gentle climax.

Afterward, I lay my cheek on her pubic hair while she stroked my head. "Oh, Barry, that was good. You knew just what I needed. I don't know how I ever got along without you."

I murmured, "I hope you never find out."

"Keep your head there for a while. I might need another, but give me a few minutes to catch my breath."

* * *

RoseAnn tucked her head under my arm and fell asleep in minutes. Her breath moved the hair on my chest, which tickled my nipple, but I didn't dare disturb her by moving. I thought ahead to next Thursday, and what she might do to me before then. She had driven me into a state of helpless need in only three days of steadily escalated teasing. What could she do in seven?