Dangerous Living [MF] Revenge Fuck

My roommate was a good friend. Was. Then we moved in together.

The first week of 75 of his closest friends over was wild, and fun, and exciting. Then school started. But this shit did not stop.

It got so bad that eventually, I (22M) spent more time at another friends house on his couch.

After a couple of months, another friend I wanted to see was at the ever-revolving-party that was my apartment, so I went down there, and was going to hang out.

Per usual, the place was packed. The apartment entered next to the kitchen on the left, then a short hall to the living room, to the left and behind the kitchen, and the two bedrooms and a kitchen down the hall to the right. The bedroom hallway was ended by my roommate’s door, that looked squarely out into about half of the living room. This will get important later.

Up to this point, I’d been pretty clear about people staying out of my room, and up to this point, my roommate had honored my wishes. Not today.

I entered the apartment and went to my room to do a few things. When I entered, I became enraged.

I had a cabinet with open shelving attached above, and on those shelves were some fragile, breakable things that I recently came into when a family member who was also a mentor to me, died too young. It sucked, and this was a way I had held on to this person.

Well, I came into my room, and someone had either treated this cabinet as a tackling dummy, or purposely took their hand and lifted up the sides of the shelving so that all of it had collapsed. Breakable items of this special person lay in heap, broken and ruined. There were two guys having some type of drunken conversation in my room.

“Get the fuck out of here,” one of them said. “This is my fucking bedroom, and did you do this?” I answered, pointing at the pile of broken things and upset shelving. Sheepishly, the two quickly left, after confirming they found my room as it was.

I went and found my roommate. It took what felt like 5 minutes to elbow my way 25′ from my door in the hallway to the back deck, where my drunken roommate was lounging.

“George, my room is destroyed!” I complained.

Drunk, flippant, and utterly uncaring, George said, “It’s fine. No one’s been in there.”

“George, I just found two people in there who told me to leave my own room. My shelving is ruined, and much of what’s on there is broken. That stuff’s really important to me.”

A shrug. That’s all I got. A shrug. George went back to talking to his hetero-life mate Bill, the asshole that usually put George up to most of his bullshit.

I disappeared back into my room, fighting back a bit of emotion, and started straightening out my shelves, and salvaging what I could.

I heard someone behind me. “George can be such an asshole.”

It was Rebecca (21F) (do not call her Becky, it won’t end well!), George’s girlfriend. It was a mystery to me then, and it’s a mystery to me now, what she saw in him. They were very different. He’s Chad, the golf shirt wearing future Greek row campus rascal of your local university. She’s gothish, with darker make up, a nose ring, small gauges, and now (not then) heavily tattooed. She was a little shorter, at the time not the archetype of beauty, but fits squarely in today’s idealized shape. She had an hour glass figure, attributable to her shapely ass. She was a brunette, with eyes that were a contradiction. The shape and twinkle of them made them so warm and welcoming. The color of them was a piercing light gray blue combination that reminded you of ice. She had a sharp slightly uplifted nose that twinkled a bit like Samantha from Bewitched when she smiled. She had petite breasts that were perfectly suited to her figure, and to play complement instead of scene stealer to her ass. We’d been friendly acquaintances before she got with George.

“Well, he didn’t do this, he’d just rather drink.” I didn’t want to shit on her boyfriend to her.

“Did he tell you that?” She asked.

“Not exactly,” I answered. “I’m just heart broken, this stuff was really…”

“I told him how much this meant to you when it happened.” She looked down thoughtfully towards the floor, clearly embarrassed from her boyfriend’s behavior.

All the anger that had started to subside immediately resurfaced. “What the fuck, Rebecca?” I said, awaiting an explanation.

She went on to tell me that George, Bill, and three others, including Rebecca, went in to my room to use my glass topped desk to do some coke. They’d already been drinking, and while they were waiting for the guy to get it ready, Bill and George started grab-assing, and smashed into my cabinet, knocking down all the shelves. They rolled on the floor laughing, got up, did their drugs, and walked out without a care in the world. Rebecca and George got into an argument as they left the room.

“I’ve felt terrible about this all night,” she consoled me as she put a reassuring hand on my shoulder as I kept straightening and using the trash can to say good bye one last time. I felt like I was gonna cry, and there was no way I was letting her see that.

“Can I have some time to myself?” I managed, as kept my face away from her. “Sure.” She slipped away without me turning around.

About twenty minutes later, as I emerged from my room, Rebecca nearly knocked me over as she came up behind me, and ran her right arm through and over my left, like some old-fashioned formal walk, and she handed me a cocktail with the other. “You need to have a drink.” She winked at me, and we sort of promenaded through the crowd towards the kitchen.

We sat and talked, eventually I laughed at something. The drinks continued. My mood, boosted by alcohol, improved, though I was still a bit upset. Rebecca was a darling as we talked and she kept my mind off of it. The party fizzled out slowly, and obliterated George and Bill, who must have not had too much coke, were in George’s room, I thought sleeping.

I went and laid down in my bedroom, just taking in my buzz, and sort of lingering half conscious in my room, irritated I didn’t kill the overhead light on my way in. Then I noticed a shadow in the light, and I rolled over. Rebecca stood over me, swaying slightly. “George and Bill are sleeping sideways across his bed. Got room?”

I, thinking this would quickly result in a pass out, said “sure,” and scooted over. It was a full size, so there was room. She turned, killed the light, and flopped down next to me.

I was face up, arms over my head, she was face down, one arm over my waist. She said, “Are you tired?”

“Sort of, you?” I answered. I assumed this would be the end of any conversation.

“Not now that I’m lying next to you.”

I was surprised. I had never gotten any indication from her that she was interested in me. I’m not her type either. She turned her head and got up on her elbows, so her face was right over mine. I took the invitation.

We started to kiss, and she immediately added tongue, almost too much, to our kiss. I disengaged and smiled a bit at her, and then kissed her again, taking time to kiss her neck and jaw, and ear lobes, and back to her for more of her preferred french kissing. It was a bit different than I had preferred to this point, and super sexy, and almost frenetic, panicked, frenzied. My hand came around and over her waist. I was immediately struck by how firm she was. She looked like all soft, welcoming edges, but the curves appeared from the touch to be more carved out of marble. It was as sexy, and contradictory, as her eyes.

I didn’t know where this was heading, and then, as we are making out, George’s door opens, and Rebecca slides off me, and acts asleep, as George peers into my room and turns on my light. “Rebecca, come to bed.” I acted asleep, panicking about how much George saw, and laying there, face up, waiting for him to smash my nose while I sit there with my eyes closed. Rebecca gave a fake little mini snore. George seemed to buy it as he turned my light out and went back into his room.

Rebecca came back to life, popping her head up with an excited smile and said, “Where were we?”

I was a bit spooked. “Counting our lucky stars that I didn’t just end up in a fight.”

“Just stay here,” she countered. She got up, me appreciating for the first time seeing her sexiness as she walked out, and went into George’s room.

I was fully aware of how reckless this was, and had no intentions of getting cornered in my room by her again. I got up and went and sat on one of the chairs in the living room. I intentionally picked one that was directly in line of sight from George’s bedroom door.

She came out and looked briefly in my room, then saw me sitting in the living room. I’m sure she walked normally towards me, but in my mind, she was moving towards me like Phoebe Cates in Fast Times.

She didn’t say a word. She walked boldly, confidently, towards me, and ran her hand over and across my chest as she got on her knees. She could tell I was about to say something and put her finger over my lips. Then she unzipped my pants, and took me in her mouth. The potion of eroticism, panic, anger, and fear was intoxicating. It was one of the craziest blow jobs I’ve ever had, while I just stared at George’s bedroom door. She was exceptional at fellatio. All the tongue I had to get used to in our kissing was much better suited for her current endeavor.

Not long after, my caution being thrown to the wind, I leaned forward and put my hands on her shoulders, both of us wordless reading each other’s non-verbal cues, she stood up, and I stood up. We kissed again, and went to our knees in front of the chair. I reached under her shirt and felt her firm body. Even her perfectly shaped tits seemed firmer than they should. My hands went around and grabbed her ass. I wanted to see her naked, but not here, not now.

Instead, I unbuckled her belt, and unbuttoned and unzipped her pants. As I guided her to lay on her back, I lifted her legs up as I pulled her jeans and her panties around and over her incredible ass all at once, and brought them up to her knees, where I left one arm under her knees so that it picked her ass and pretty, barely hairy at all, pussy were up in the air. I buried my face in her pussy, and she trembled, stifling a moan as I continued. I looked up at her muffled moan and saw we were still squarely in view of George’s bedroom door. At this point I couldn’t stop. I lowered my head, and went back to her. She got crazy, as I started to use my one arm to pick her ass and pussy up and raise it to my outstretched tongue. She got the hint and started gyrating, side to side and up and down, faster and faster on my tongue, which I had made short, flat and firm as she used me. She squeezed the arm against the back of her knees as she came. I had small bruises on the arm the next day.

Without even changing how her pants were pulled down, I turned her over and put her on her knees. I quickly took my pants down to my knees, still rock hard, and pushed in. Her pussy was really wet, but still it was a tight fit. I pushed all the way in, and she looked over her shoulder, smiled, and wiggled her ass, her pussy tantalizing me as she jiggled back and forth.

I started to pump, back and forth, fairly slowly at first. Her head was down, her ass was up. She was enjoying herself. I was too. Then, I had a thought.

I put my hand on the back of her neck as we fucked. Then it went slowly up to the back of her head, and I slowly made a fist that collected her hair, getting firmer and firmer. She moaned, louder than the muffled version from before. I punished her by slamming into her a bit more firmly, and she moaned again. Then, I gently pulled her head up, by her hair, so that her face was looking at her boyfriend’s door. She froze for a second, maybe two, as I held her hair and ran a hand underneath her and under her shirt. Then she held steady as she started to fuck me back, growing more forceful with each pump. She started getting louder.

I drew her up to me, and put my other hand over her mouth. Her head was much closer to me now, as we were both on our knees, but she was upright like me, as I had one hand on her hair, and another her mouth. I turned her head so that we could see each other, and she looked at me, silently submitting to me, telling me with her eyes how hot she found it that I was controlling her. But there was more. Then she took one of her arms and reached back and over behind my head, and turned my head from looking at her and sharing that sexy exchange, to look at George’s bedroom door, and at the same time, forced her head in my hands to look at it too. She took one moment to exchange a glance with me to confirm what she wanted, and we fucked, our heads somewhat close, both exposed and right in front of George’s door, maybe fifteen feet from us, my hands still over her mouth and grabbing her hair.

As I got closer, I released her and she made soft little sounds as I pulled out and came all over her ass.

Quickly, all of our passion was replaced by frantic efforts to clean up. I helped her since it was all behind her, and we stood up, most our clothes already back in place.

“That was so fucking hot.” She said. “You’re amazing.” I countered. I assumed there might be some cool down interaction, but no, she was all business.

She walked straight into Georges room and fell asleep next to him.

Edit: Typo(s)

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/diu7z4/dangerous_living_mf_revenge_fuck