Rooming with Roseann

We left the stuffy barroom into a cool evening and found my car a block away. Gloria seated herself and fastened her seat belt. "Your car is very clean inside. You can tell a lot about a person by the way he keeps his car."

"So what's yours like?"

"It's a Volvo wagon, and it's a mess. It's got papers and old shoes left over from high school. I guess I'll have to find someone to clean it for me."

I paused for a moment, wondering whether that was supposed to be an overture of some sort. I decided to misunderstand it, and started the engine. "There's a detailing shop around the corner from our place," I said. I pointed the car toward El Camino Real.

"Can you recommend it? Do you or your woman friend use it?"

"I clean both our cars."

"I forgot. You're in

that

kind of relationship, aren't you?" Her tongue loosened by the alcohol, she went straight to the subject with surgical precision. "I'll bet you do the cooking, and the laundry, and the dishes..."

"That's between RoseAnn and I."

"I'm sorry. I'm not taunting you. I'm actually envious of her. I mean, you treat her very well, don't you?"

"I'm content with the situation, and I know she is."

"I'm being too personal, aren't I?"

My brain told me to bring this conversation to a close now, but my cock thought otherwise. After all, RoseAnn had already set a time fuse on our relationship, and I had a future to think of.

"This afternoon, you said that if I tell you something, it'll stay under that beautiful red hair of yours? I trust you to keep to that. You can ask me whatever you want, but I get to ask you questions, too."

"I know you go down on her..."

"Whoa! No subtlety there! How much have you had to drink?"

"I just don't believe in being circumspect about sex. It's silly to talk in circles around such an important subject. We can have a conversation like adults, can't we? Anyway, it wasn't a question. I saw that special chair, and I can smell pussy on you from here. You tried out the chair before coming to the bar tonight, didn't you?"

I sighed. "You know it."

"Does she reciprocate?"

Normally, this would have been over the top, but I'd already begun to open up, and I couldn't stop myself from talking. "No. Except once, which I think was just our excitement running away with us. I don't think she'd have done it if she'd been thinking straight. I don't blame her. It must be kind of disgusting."

"Not for all of us," she said. "I love taking a man's come into my mouth. Every man tastes different; did you know that? And even the same man will taste different from time to time. They say it depends on what he eats."

"No kidding. Where'd you hear that?" I couldn't believe I was having this conversation. But this was California, far from my home planet.

"Turn left at the next street," she said. "I read about it in some sex book. He has to eat a diet with no red meat, no cabbage-type vegetables like broccoli or cauliflower, no garlic or onion. But lots of pineapple and other fruit. Cinnamon, too."

"Bullshit."

"It works. I've done the experiment. Feed 'em pineapple and cinnamon drops, and their come tastes like candy. Try it on RoseAnn and see if she can resist." She giggled and directed me to turn down another street to her home.

Her home was elegant, even by Silicon Valley standards. I'd noticed that homes here tended to be compact, perhaps because of the outrageous cost of land, perhaps because it was possible to spend so much time outdoors. But the Gruendlich house was located on a spacious cul-de-sac lot, with a wide driveway and exterior ground lighting. There were three large flowerbeds, but no grass. Instead, the 'lawn' was made of crushed stone of uniform size.

A heavy oak door led into a tiled hall. There was marble everywhere. The interior was largely open plan, with living room, dining room and kitchen all in the same high-ceilinged space. Gloria seated me on an overstuffed leather sofa and brought two beers from the refrigerator. She sat on the other end of the sofa, her bare feet tucked up under her.

"I paid Joanna, the day nurse, to stay the evening so I could go out," she said. "In a half-hour, I've got to help her get Dad ready for the night. It's kind of messy and smelly, and you'll probably want to leave about then. But for now, you're mine." She smiled brightly.

"This is a nice house."

"My parents did well for themselves. My mother retired as a Colonel in the Army when she became pregnant with me. After that, she consulted with some of those high-priced think tanks here and in D.C. She was killed in a pileup on the 101 seven years ago."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. That must have been difficult. Are you an only child?"

"And about to inherit a large estate. Although I'd rather have my Dad around for a few more years. I've already got everything I need, and a lot of freedom besides."

"But you decide to take up a tough subject like biochemistry, instead of kicking back and riding on your fortune? That's an admirable thing to do."

"I've seen what happens to people my age who have too much money and no goals. One, two years, and they implode. Drugs, alcohol, bad friends, jail, lawsuits, early death. It's a cliché."

I nodded and sipped at the beer.

"In a few months, Dad will be gone. The nurses will be gone. I'll be in this house by myself. I'll have all the money I need, but I'll be living alone."

"Sounds like you'd be a prize catch for some lucky man."

"And don't I know it. Those two guys that were with me tonight? Walt? And Darrin? And a dozen boys before them? They all popped out of the woodwork when it became common knowledge my Dad was dying."

"Not hard to figure out their motives, then?"

"Walt already acts like he owns me, but he's pleasant enough when we're alone together, with no competition around. But he gives me a bad feeling, like there's violence under the surface. Darrin is a lazy ass with a folksy manner, looking for a free ride. And Fred. Well, you met Psycho Fred in the Axe and Palm."

I nodded. "It sounds to me like you're working up to something. You tell me you admire directness. So be direct."

"I need a man around me I can trust. I've decided I can't wait for Mr. Right to accidentally bump into me. I have to go out and find him myself, before he's needed. There's too many losers out there and not enough real men."

"What, exactly, do you mean when you say you 'need someone around'."

"Someone male to share the house with. A boyfriend, a live-in lover, a bodyguard, a houseguest, a butler, a tenant. I want someone around who's trustworthy and centered and stable, and isn't going to take over my life. Ideally, it would be someone who'd take care of me the way you take care of your 'aunt'."

"And you're telling me this because..."

"Because I had a good feeling about you the instant I met you. I still do."

"But you know I'm attached."

"And faithful, too. That's a positive point. If you were to cheat on her, you'd do the same to me, wouldn't you?"

"Then I'm puzzled about the whole reason I'm here."

"I don't have a plan. I just want to get to know you better, and I assume that means I'll have to get to know both of you better. Can I invite you both over for supper sometime soon? Perhaps Sunday evening?"

* * *

I slipped into the apartment a little after one a.m. The lights were out, except one dim night light burning on the kitchen counter. I took off my shoes, expecting to slip quietly into bed. I went first to the bathroom to relieve my bladder, and tiptoed to the bedroom.

In the darkness, RoseAnn whispered, "You shouldn't have left me alone for so long."

"I'm sorry." I shed my clothes as quickly as I could, tossing them in the general direction of the easy chair.

"My imagination's been running wild all evening."

"I seems that even at the busiest times, your imagination runs pretty wild." I slipped under the covers.

"Oooh, I have an interesting weekend in store for you, my sturdy young slave."

"Are you going to tell me about it, or let me find out as we go?" I said, cuddling against her and kissing her cheek.

"Last weekend, I discovered how much I liked making you come in my mouth. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all week."

My cock was so hard that it hurt. "That makes two of us."

"But the next day, you were contrary and out of control, and the only thing that got you back to your proper behavior was physical punishment. I'd never done it before. I'd never even thought about it. How was I to know it would excite me so much? Here I am, thirty-seven years old, and there's so much I didn't know about myself until you came to live here."

Talking aloud about these subjects was so much easier in total darkness. I wasn't anxious to endure another whipping like the one she'd given me on Tuesday, but at the same time, I wanted desperately to satisfy her needs.

"So I have both the problem and the cure, don't I?" she said. "If I make you come, I've got a behavior problem with you. If I whip you, the problem goes away. Right?"

"I guess so." Half of me had hoped she'd have forgotten about the whip; the other half longed to be bound to the bench while she wielded the cruel weapon over my body.

"Do you want to hear my plan for the weekend?"

I was silent for a moment, and finally whispered, 'Yes.'

"Tonight, I'm going to suck the semen out of you until you shrivel like a prune. I even got ready for it. I have a glass of wine on the bedside table to clean my mouth afterward."

"I'll sign on for that, but what then?" I knew what would come next, but in my state of excitement, I wanted to hear the words from her lips.

"What then, indeed?" She laughed prettily. "Tomorrow morning, after you've fed me breakfast, I'm going to whip the skin off you before you start our chores...your chores and mine, too. I'll stretch out on the sofa and watch you dust and wash and scrub, all naked, with nasty red welts that I've just put there. What do you think of that?"

I considered a moment. "I'm scared half to death, and excited, too."

"Do you want to hear how I'm going to whip you?"

"Yes," I said, in a small voice.

"At first, I was going to tie you face down on the bench and whip your ass. But then I remembered how it excited me to look into your eyes, and how I was amazed to watch your penis twitch and swell each time I hit you. So that's how we'll do it, face up, belly and thighs. I guess it will hurt a lot, but I'm going to try it without that ridiculous ball gag in your mouth. I know you'll be strong for me."

She reached down and grasped my cock. "I don't think I have to ask your opinion anymore. Your penis is telling me all I need to know."

Sexual excitement flooded my body like a warm liquid. "I love you, and I want to do whatever pleases you."

"Then you can start by sitting on the side of the bed." She slipped from under the blanket and got to her knees on the carpet. I slid across the bed and sat with my feet either side of her knees.

She took my cock between two fingers and gave it a quick kiss. "I'm guessing you didn't expect this when you came home, did you? In fact, things might have gone differently. When you got into bed, I checked to make sure I could still smell my cassolette on your face. Past the beer smell, that is. If you'd washed it off, I might have dispensed with this and just given you the whipping instead." With that, she took my cock into her mouth and licked it for a moment.

She drew back. "I told you my imagination was running wild tonight, didn't I?" She kissed my cock, and held the tip between her lips for a moment. "I want to draw this out for a while, so you have to tell me before you come, and I'll decide whether to stop or continue."

"Yes, RoseAnn," I gasped. "Please be cautious. I'm very, very close." I wasn't sure I could hold off for more than a few seconds. My balls were aching so much, I was pretty sure I couldn't stand up if I had to.

I closed my eyes, and felt her tongue wandering over the tip, then trail down the underside. She lifted my balls with her fingers and kissed each one. For a moment there was no sensation but the cooling of her saliva, and then she abruptly took me full length into her mouth so my glans touched her throat.

"Stop! Stop!" I burst out, and she instantly withdrew.

"You're far too sensitive. I can barely touch you and you're ready to explode."

"I can't help it. I've never in my life been so excited."

"Well, that leaves me with only one solution."

"Eh?"

She sucked me into her mouth again, licking the underside where it was most sensitive. I shouted for her to stop. Instead, she worked the rough flat of her tongue back and forth under my cock in a steady rhythm. Almost immediately, I came violently. I threw myself backwards onto the mattress, arching my back while her mouth continued to pump me. I heard myself groaning and crying, while my mind whirled somewhere else in a storm of pure ecstasy. My semen gushed into her throat. I felt her swallow, once, twice, and a third time, while my body twisted and thrashed on the bed.

When it was over, she turned on the light and blotted her lips and my cock with a tissue. She sipped some wine from her glass, sloshing the wine around her mouth and through her teeth before swallowing.

"As much as I loved doing that, it wasn't enough. It was too quick. I'm going to have to use a different strategy. I want you to lick me now, and then I'll do you again. But the second time, I should be able to take my time, don't you think? As long as I want?"

She rose up and settled herself in the Altar of Yoni, eyes closed, fingers laced together over her belly. "Don't keep me waiting," she said.

Having just climaxed, I was not at my most energetic. I feigned excitement at first, but soon my cock come back to life, and my enthusiasm flared. I adjusted the height of the chair slightly, and burrowed into her, tasting her abundant sweet juices and feeling her clitoris pulse against my upper lip. She stretched and relaxed at first, enjoying my caresses, then grew tense and pulled at my hair. I lowered the chair until I could zero in on her clit. She fairly exploded, crying and bucking her hips against my mouth.

When she'd finished, she gently stroked my head as I breathed into her pubic hair and whispered over and over that I loved her.

I finally lowered the chair all the way so she could get up. She looked at me, wide-eyed. "Barry! Your face!"

Sure enough, her thighs and pubic hair and pussy lips were smeared with blood, and a thin trickle led from her vagina down to the towel. Yet there was no taste in my mouth except her accustomed sweetness.

"Oh, Jesus! Oh, Jesus! I'm so sorry, Barry." She tried to stand up, but I held her down with a palm pressed flat on her belly. "It shouldn't have started until tomorrow."

"Don't move. I'll get a cloth and clean you up."

I went into the bathroom and waited for the warm water to reach the faucet before wetting a washcloth. I looked at my face, and there was blood on my chin and either side of my mouth. I washed it away and went back into the bedroom.

"That must have been awful for you," she said.

As I cleaned the blood from her, I said, in my calmest voice, "Not at all. You had your usual amazing taste, a little juicier than usual. If I'd thought about it, I would have put that down to your overactive imagination, anticipating the weekend."

"It didn't bother you? Really?"

"Really. Honest injun. Scout's honor. Cross my heart."

"I'm glad, because that was a sensational climax. Unfortunately, I'm always at my most responsive during my period."

"I'm telling you, it doesn't matter. I could lick you again right now and love every moment of it. Whatever comes from your body is sacred to me."

"Well, that's generous, but it just about makes me sick to think about it. But I see that you're hard again. If you're still in the mood, I'll finish up what I set out to do. Just give me a minute to put a tampon in."

This time, she laid me on my side on the bed, and put a pillow in front of my hips to support her head as she lay with my cock in her mouth. With the pressure of a week's denial relieved, I could tolerate her licking and sucking and swirling her tongue around as much as she wanted, and still give her plenty of warning of an impending gusher. She took her time, panting and moaning and rubbing her thighs together as she licked and rolled my organ about in her mouth. Not that I didn't pant and moan and thrust my hips. I couldn't be sure which one of us was most excited. At last, I reached the end of my resistance and begged her to let me come. She didn't tease, but pumped my cock with her sweet, hot lips until I filled her mouth with my semen for the second time that night.

I knew she'd largely recovered from her embarrassment when we were ready to get into bed. She covered herself but left her feet sticking out from under the sheets. She simply said, "Oil, now!" and pointed to her feet. I found the bottle of baby oil and kneeled at the foot of the bed, rubbing drops of it into the soles and toes and insteps until she finally drifted off to sleep.

It was almost four a.m.