Emma came home from a wonderful day out.
Her boyfriend, ever the gentleman, had taken her to the park for a romantic picnic. She had worn her favourite yellow summer dress for the occasion, as the couple enjoyed their sandwiches, strawberries and champagne in the warm afternoon sun. As she lay on the soft rug, enjoying the food and the ambience, Emma couldn't help but feel her life was perfect.
She couldn't wait to tell her roommate all about her wonderful day, and the beautiful man who had shared it with her.
"Hello!" she called, as she walked into the living room. "Michael? Are you home?"
No response.
"That's odd," She chuckled. "He's rarely ever out of the house."
Emma shrugged and began to look for a vase or similar container for the bouquet of flowers her boyfriend had bought her. She was sure Michael wouldn't mind her keeping them in the kitchen, besides, she was always complaining about the lack of decor in their apartment.
"I'm going to put these in some water, okay?" She said to the empty room.
After searching through the cupboards and finding a single large glass vase, she filled it with water and placed the flowers in it, arranging them as nicely as she could.
"Much better!" she giggled. "I'm sure Michael won't mind."
Just at that moment, Emma heard the rattling of keys from the front door.
"Speak of the devil!" she giggled to herself.
The door swung open and the young man entered, looking tired and sweaty from a hard day's work. Michael was known to drop by the gym after a long shift at his boring office job, and today was no exception.
"Hey, Michael!" Emma said happily, greeting him from the kitchen. "How was your day?"
Michael just nodded, dropped his gym bag by the door and grunted in reply. He didn't look too happy, but Emma never let that dampen her spirits. He strolled through the kitchen, barely giving Emma a second glance, pushing past the girl to open up the fridge.
"So, how was work?" Emma asked again, trying to start a conversation. "Did anything interesting happen today?"
"Nope," Michael said, still facing the open refrigerator door. He pulled out a bottle of orange juice, shaking it to make sure there was still some left. Satisfied, he unscrewed the cap and drank straight from the bottle, ignoring the presence of the girl next to him.
This was one of Michael's habits that annoyed Emma. She had asked him repeatedly not to drink straight from the bottle, and yet he continued to do it anyway. While she could never get mad at the man, she still found herself a little frustrated at his disregard. In response, she just sighed and rolled her eyes, projecting her disappointment.
"What?" Michael asked, either oblivious or uncaring of the situation. Before Emma could respond, Michael noticed the vase on the counter. "When did we get flowers?"
"Oh, they're from my boyfriend," Emma said happily, trying to lighten the mood. "He got them for me this today. Aren't they beautiful?"
"Sure," Michael said, clearly disinterested.
"It was so sweet," Emma continued. "We had a lovely picnic date this morning. The weather was perfect. There was a little breeze, but it was nice and warm. You know, it's a shame you had to work today, I'm sure you would have enjoyed it."
Michael gave Emma an unamused look and continued to down the last of the orange juice. He placed the empty bottle on the counter and shut the refrigerator door. Once again, Emma sighed, picking up the bottle and placing it in the trash.
"What's with you?" Michael asked, confused.
Emma smirked at the man's lack of awareness. While Michael wasn't the perfect roommate, he was her best friend in the whole world. She'd long gotten used to his quirks and tidying up after him had become second nature. Any minor annoyance he caused her was completely overshadowed by the joy his company brought her.
"Nothing," she said, giving a teasing smile. "Just realising how badly you stink right now."
It was a joke, but there was some truth in her words. Michael did have a rather strong musk emanating from his body, added to that, all the beads of sweat covering his face and shirt were reason enough to make Emma take a step back and mime a disgusted look.
Michael just laughed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
"Sorry," he said with a shrug, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. "It's hot outside."
"Uhuh," Emma replied, still looking the man up and down. "Why don't you go take a shower, and then I'll tell you all about my wonderful day."
"Does this 'wonderful day' involve more flowery descriptions of a boring date with your boring boyfriend?" Michael asked in a very deadpan tone. "Because if it does, then I think I'll pass."
"Don't be mean!" Emma scolded, lightly slapping his arm. "He's not boring, you know that. Besides, it was a really great day, I know you'll love to hear about it."
Michael shook his head, sarcastically pretending to think about the offer.
"I don't know," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Not really much in it for me, is there?"
Emma laughed, rolling her eyes at the man. His deadpan humour was one of the many qualities that Emma adored. As carefree and dismissive as the man appeared to be, Emma knew that deep down he cared about her. The whole thing was a running joke between the two.
"Oh yeah?" She said, a coy smile on her face. "How can I convince you, then?"
"Well..." Michael said, taking a step closer. "How about instead of taking a shower and listening to your bullshit, we skip all that crap and you kneel down and lick my sweaty asshole clean?"
The obscene suggestion was delivered so casually. It took Emma a second to process what he had said. She never was interested in rimjobs at the best of times, the act always seemed so demeaning, especially for the person giving it. Thankfully, her boyfriend had never asked her to do such a thing, the sexual act was completely out of the realm of possibility and she'd never consider it in her day-to-day life.
"Sure," She finally said, smiling brightly as ever.
While the concept of rimming hardly crossed her mind at the best of times, it wasn't the first time Michael had asked her for such a thing. Like with all of her roommate's sexual requests, Emma agreed without hesitation. Any and all feelings on the matter were overshadowed by her overwhelming desire to please her beloved friend, no matter what.
Michael watched as the happy girl sank to her knees, her dress flowing behind her. The man smirked at the sight, the type of grin that on anybody else, Emma might've called lecherous, but coming from Michael, she only saw affection.
She was all too eager to perform the task, despite how distasteful she found it. The act of kneeling before this man was almost natural by this point, no longer needing to remind herself why she was doing this, all the reasons already ingrained in her subconscious. It's just what friends do.
Special friends. Friends like Michael, and only Michael. Emma would never do this for anyone else. The thought of doing anything sexual for another man was completely absurd, that would be cheating and Emma would never do that. And the thought of doing this particular act for her boyfriend, well, the very idea was laughable.
With Michael, however, things were different. Michael was her friend, her best friend. And best friends did these things for each other. They helped each other, they supported each other. And, sometimes, they even rimmed out their roommate's filthy asshole, just because they were asked to. It made perfect sense to her.
Slowly, and with a practiced grace, the girl reached out, her fingers tugging on the hem of his suit trousers. In one fluid motion, she unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down his thighs. Michael stepped out of them, kicking them to the side. The discarded clothes were quickly forgotten, as the girl's attention turned to the boxer shorts.
It was even more apparent that Michael had stopped by the gym. The smell was overpowering, the sweat practically soaking through the man's underwear. Emma couldn't help but giggle, it was so typically Michael, so wonderfully filthy. Her delicate fingers grasped the hem of his undergarment and she tugged them down. Just as before, Michael stepped out of the boxers, letting them fall to the floor.
"What are you laughing at?" Michael asked, his brow raised.
"You stink," Emma teased, the smile still bright on her face.
"Oh yeah?" Michael smirked, placing a firm grip on her head. "Take a deep breath then, bitch."