I seduce (ok…throw myself at) my brother’s roommate [FM]

Hi, everybody. My name’s Brooke. My older brother created this username (RoddySparrow? Really? What the hell does that even mean?) and left the account open on his computer. He’s going to flip when he sees this! I’d create my own username, but I don’t feel like waiting a day to share this story. . . .

I want all you internet strangers to understand that I’m really not a slut. Up until this point, I’d only had one sexual partner in high school, a boyfriend I started dating in tenth grade. He dumped me the day after I turned eighteen, which also happened to be the day before spring break of my senior year.

My best friend Summer and I were already planning to spend the week at my brother’s apartment in Myrtle Beach. (He’s two years older than me and was a student at Coastal Carolina University.) My boyfriend was supposed to go too, but now that was out. So I was feeling frustrated and lonely. And, damn, it was spring break and I wanted to do something a little crazy.

I’m going to focus on the last night, but here’s how the rest of the week went down. We slept in every morning. We laid out on the beach every afternoon. We drank Natty Lights and Wal-Mart wine every night. My brother hit on Summer but got nowhere. Summer hooked up with a townie who lived across the street. Me? I tried unsuccessfully for six days to flirt with my brother’s roommate, Colt.

Colt had a girlfriend back in his home town outside Boston. He had a few photos of her on the shelves of the entertainment center in the living room. She was super pretty, the kind of girl that a guy like Colt would have. *Should have.* For some reason Summer tried to act like she was unimpressed with him. “He looks like one of those sad, single guys at Dave & Buster’s,” she said. “Nice blue eyes, but the rest of his face is more Buster than Dave.” Summer’s an idiot. Colt had a hard jawline and harder abs, a body that could at least grace the cover of a fireman’s calendar in a mid-sized city. And I wanted to fuck him. But no matter how many blue-and-silver empties piled up in the corner each night, Colt faithfully ignored me and went to his bed while I went to the futon.

So let’s talk about the last night, Saturday night. Same routine, same results. Until everybody had fallen asleep except me.

***

I get up around 2 A.M. to use the bathroom, and when I come back, Colt’s pit bull terrier has taken up position on the futon. “Move, Franco.” He growls. I pick up my pillow and try to shoo him away with it. He snorts and growls again. This goes on for another five minutes. No amount of coaxing or shooing makes Franco budge, and although he’s been friendly enough all week, I don’t want to push it with something more aggressive.

Summer’s snoring, sprawled on the couch. My brother’s in his room with the door locked. The door to Colt’s room is ajar, and I can see him lying face-down with his pillow in a headlock. The thin sheet covers just half his frame, revealing a muscular bare back and a tight, gray pair of boxer briefs.

I pad back to the bathroom and look in the mirror. *Should I go in like this? How much can I take off and not come off as a total whore if this goes badly?* I’m in plaid pajama bottoms I got from Victoria’s Secret and a teal t-shirt that has “Coastal” printed on the front. I drop the pajamas to my feet and play my thumbs around the hem of my boy-short underwear. They’re black and could pass for yoga shorts. Maybe. I can’t remember which bra I have on. I lift my shirt. It’s a lacy blue piece. *Nothing matches. Figures.* I slide the bra off and stare at my tits for a minute. B-cups, but with angry-looking cones for nipples, the kind I’ve heard boys call “torpedoes.” I drop the shirt back in place over them. *Now or never. No. Fuck “never.” Now. It’s now.*

I sneak in his room and lean over the edge of his bed, thighs pressed against the edge of the mattress. There’s no subtle way to do this. “Colt? Colt, I’m sorry to wake you up.” I shake the shoulder closest to me. His skin is coffee-cup warm. “Colt? Can you hear me?” He looks up at me with blinking blue eyes. “Huh?” “Hey, sorry, it’s Brooke. Franco won’t let me back on the futon. Everything else is taken. I was wondering if I could sleep in here with you? I’m sorry.”

Colt props himself up on one elbow and stares off to the left at nothing in particular. “What? No, it’s okay. What time is it?”

“A little after two.”

He nods and smiles like he just asked a dumb question. “Yeah, of course. What’s going on, again? Franco needs to go out?”

“No, this is kinda silly but Franco’s on the futon and growls when I try to move him. I was asking if I could sleep in here. If that’s ok with you?” His face is about a foot away from my breasts, and I can tell he’s staring at them. There’s enough glow from a streetlight outside to silhouette the nipple outlines through the shirt fabric.

“Oh. This is my bad. I should have put Franco in his kennel. He’s all talk. You could have just pulled him off, but I’ll go get him and lock him up for the rest of the night.” He starts to throw the rest of the sheet off, and as he shifts around I can see the bulge in his underwear.

“No, leave him there; it’s ok.” I put my hand back on Colt’s shoulder. “He’s probably asleep now and I don’t want to bother him.” *That sounded stupid.* “Also I had a bad dream and I’d rather just sleep in here with you if you don’t mind. I don’t take up much space.” *Again, stupid. Such stupid girl things to say. Ugh.*

“Um, okay. Let me get something on. I’m pretty indecent here.” He looks a bit sheepish.

*Pretty indecent is a good way to put it.* I return a smile of fake embarrassment, like I didn’t know he was in such a state of undress. I push him back into the bed, somewhat more forcefully than I intend. I slide onto the mattress and pull the sheet over us both, nestling myself into the “little spoon” position with my back pressed against his chest. He isn’t sure where to put his arm, so he lays it flat along his side.

We talk about Franco, and Colt asks me about my dream and I make up something about my mom and a car accident and black helicopters. It’s all nonsense but I keep talking because He keeps asking me questions about it, and as he speaks I can feel his breath blowing gruff air against my neck. With every word of his, a few strands of my blonde hair float across my brow and onto the bridge of my nose. It’s a masculine but gentle force.

I wiggle my backside closer to him and feel something plump fall flush along the crack. I grab his arm and drape it around my waist so that his palm rests on top of my stomach. I caress his knuckles and trace my fingertip over the fine hairs and veins of the back of his hand. In response he traces small circles with his thumb around my belly ring.

We’re both silent now but breathing hard. No more black helicopters. I take my hand off his and reach back to the steamy nook where his crotch meets my butt. At first I grab my own cheek then slide my hand downward until the pinky side is on his package. I leave it there for a few seconds to see if he objects. He doesn’t, so I reach inside the waistband of his briefs.

Colt isn’t completely hard yet, but he’s already a handful. I like the way he feels soft and fat in my palm, and as I give him little squeezes, my grip has to yawn wider to accommodate the growth. As he firms up I stroke a repeat path from the base to the tip, sometimes tapping fingers along the underbelly of it. *Underbelly? Is that what you call it? Whatever it is, it must be super sensitive because his junk jumps a little when I do it.*

Meanwhile, Colt explores under my shirt. He takes turns cupping each breast and rubbing the nipples. He leans in and kisses my neck. I’m thoroughly wet inside now, but I want to do something first.

With more abruptness than I mean to have, I spin around and yank off his shorts. Kneeling on the floor beside the bed, I pull his legs over the side so that he’s almost fully standing, with his butt perched just on the edge. I take him into my mouth. I have no idea what I’m doing; I never gave head to my ex. So I just suck for a while like he’s an oversized peppermint stick.

Colt’s obviously into it, subtly easing his hips forward, but I’m still worried I’m not doing it right. I run my tongue down the ridge on his underbelly (there it is again) upward to where the edge of his head (and what do you call that? the rim? the brim?) forms an upside-down “V.” Lifting my tongue tight against that V, I wrap my upper lip against the top of the head and pull firmly but gently, like I’m a toothless old lady trying to uncork a wine bottle with her mouth.

I give the tip sloppy kisses for a while and then peck down the side of the shaft until I get to his balls. *Do guys like to have their balls sucked? Is that gross? Shit, I’ll try it.* I don’t expect to like this part because the scrotum has never been a very appealing part of the male anatomy to me, but Colt’s sack surprises me. It isn’t wrinkled and hairy. It’s soft and smooth, pink and heavy. Perfect. I open wide and take all its weight into my mouth, a wet testicle hot inside each cheek. That leaves enough room for me to breathe (barely) and reach out with my tongue to flick that cord holding it all on. *Wow. I guess guys do like it.* Colt’s running his hands through my hair, brushing it back behind my ears, pressing my earlobe between his thumb and forefinger. And moaning. He’s definitely moaning.

When I’m done down there, I stand up and push him backwards onto the bed. *Ok, I mean to be a little rough this time.* I tug my undies off. Colt fumbles in a drawer next to the bed and tosses me a condom. It’s in a gold wrapper. My ex always had black ones. Different company, I guess. I roll it on down his dick and climb aboard.

It’s slow going at first because he’s so thick. I don’t have to clench to feel full. After a minute or so I relax enough and I’m able to bounce a little. He reaches up and massages my clit. We’re both close.

All the sensations are overwhelming. I swear his dick is all the way up to my stomach. I keep waiting for my belly ring to pop out. His mumbles have turned to grunts. “Hnng! Hnng!” It sounds like he’s saying, “hung.” “Fuck yeah, you are,” I say. He pauses. “Huh?” “Never mind. Don’t stop.” He picks up the rhythm again. My own noises are a bit cheesy. I don’t orchestrate them that way; they just come out. They’re so damn girly and squeaky, almost like little beeps or chirps.

Now I’m lubed up enough for full-fledged slapping down there. Slap. Hnng. Chirp. Slap. Hnng. Chirp. Over and over and over . . . His finger on my clit is frantic, too. We’re both *so* close.

Him: “Hnng. Oh god yeah. Ohgodyeah . . . Hnnnnnng . . . . . ”

Me: “chirp . . . chirp . . . ch . . . SHITT!”

It’s a rush of electricity. He explodes inside me and my whole body goes numb. I feel a waterfall and can’t tell if the condom busted or if I’m squirting. I read about that in Cosmo once. I rock back and forth like I’m riding one of those spring-loaded miniature horses at the playground.

When it’s over, I realize Franco has heard the racket and left his spot on the futon to check on his master. Till now I haven’t bothered to think whether we’ve woken anyone else, but there’s no one stirring. Colt and I kiss a little more, and then I clean up and get back to the living room. Summer’s still snoring. I lie down and drift off until the final late morning of our trip.

As we pack up, I feel guilty looking over at the pictures of Colt’s girlfriend. He’ll never tell her. And I’ll never talk about it to anyone. Until now, that is.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6vk0fl/i_seduce_okthrow_myself_at_my_brothers_roommate_fm