We played footsies under the table the whole time we ate breakfast, sharing interesting stories or photos we found on Reddit with each other while we caught up on our phones. The more time we spent together, the more I found we really did have things in common. She liked a lot of the same regional bands that I liked, we had taken a few of the same classes in college, and we loved the same foods. We both took our coffee black, we loved Die Hard as a Christmas movie, and the list virtually went on. And the physical connection was tremendous. Electric, and I previously didn’t think that was a thing in real life—just in movies and books. But it was electric when we touched, and the intensity was only growing. So I knew that I had to pursue this beautiful goddess of a woman. But that meant I had to come clean about everything to Brock and talk to Kelly about doing that, too.
She was scrolling through her phone feed with one hand and eating an egg white scramble with the other. I could see her perky nipples through her white tank top and I could smell her jasmine and orange blossom scent from across the table. Her hair was in a messy wad on the top of her head and she was resting her feet on my chair between my legs. I got caught up in taking her in when suddenly she looked up, sighed, and smiled. “What?” I questioned. “I was engrossed in reading this,” she lifted her phone, “and I remembered about us, out of nowhere, and I was scared to look up and see it was just a dream. But it’s real,” she stopped eating, stood up, leaned across the table and kissed me fervidly and sat back down.
A perfect segway. “I want to know if it is real. I want to date you, Kelly. But I don’t want to lie to Brock.” Her eyes were full of excitement and she bit her bottom lip and nodded in agreeance. “We can tell him now while she is in quarantine but then he has to live in a hotel with his friends and know that you and I are in his apartment together.” I had run down all the scenarios and even though I wasn’t sure which one was the best, I knew making him lose his girl and his roommate while he was in quarantine was pretty cruel. “I don’t know,” she said, staring off into the distance now. “I don’t know either,” I said, “but I do think the longer we wait, the worse it is. I’m just trying to put myself in his shoes. I’ve known Brock for a while and he’s a good guy. I want it to be as painless as possible.” I meant that. I felt for Brock. But if this girl was the one, I couldn’t pass that up. At nearly 25 years old I’d yet to make a real connection with a girl. And now I was.
“I think we wait until he’s back at the apartment, and then maybe I go back to my place for a while,” she said, after a long silent pause. “It’s not safe there, you don’t know how long the virus will be in your apartment and your roommate is sick. I can’t let you do that,” I said. “Maybe I start looking for a new place. I liked having a roommate but I don’t need one.” Kelly and I hadn’t talked much about our careers and life circumstances but I was financially in a great place for my age. I’d been working for the same tech company since college, outright owned my car and had plenty put in my savings for a rainy day. I could support a rent on my own very easily. “I can help you look,” she said and within moments we were both on our laptops searching rental listings.
After a handful of phone calls and a lot of clicking, we had set up a few walk throughs at some condo’s and homes nearby as potential rentals for me. I was slated to check them out the following day but I told Kelly it was probably safer if she stayed at the apartment. She agreed and having a plan set in action made us both feel a lot better. We had agreed to talk to Brock the moment he came back to the apartment. T-minus two weeks until D-day. It was time to live up our somewhat carefree emotional state before our guilt was handed to us ten-fold by Brock.
“So what should we do today?” Kelly asked. She plopped down on the couch next to me, put her head on my shoulder and rested her hand on my inner thigh. It was hard to be stressed about Brock and moving out when I was so excited to learn things about Kelly… and to fuck her like crazy. But I tried to keep it all in check. “Can’t look in person but we can browse couches online,” I said, motioning to the couch we were sitting on. “This is Brocks couch.” She nodded knowingly. We cuddled up on the couch together, going through Costco.com and other sites, browsing their inventory of furniture. Kelly would make noises indicating when she thought a couch was ugly, and point out how soon I could have it on the couches she liked.
“I guess all I want is a really comfortable couch that I can have sex on,” I said, closing my laptop and setting it on the floor. She smirked. “Oh yeah? Well what kind of sex do you see yourself having on this new couch?” she stood up and took off her clothes. This chick loved being naked and I loved seeing her naked so it worked well. I pulled her down to my lap, her knees pinching my thighs tightly. She leaned down and kissed me. “Rough,” I said, squeezing her bare ass with both hands. “The kind of sex that leaves marks. Happy marks.” She stuck two fingers in her mouth and reached down and began stroking herself. “I love happy marks.”
We stood up and I pulled my belt out of my jeans and put her hands behind her back and synched the belt tight. “Homemade handcuffs,” she giggled and then her voice dropped—“do you want this?” she said, exposing her ass to me. Her hands were in the perfect position behind her to hold her ass open. “I’ll have that when I want it,” I said, taking a stern tone. I put Kelly down on her knees in front of me, unzipped my jeans and my aching cock sprang free. “Take a breath,” I commanded. She took a deep breath in and right before she was about to exhale, I impaled her with my member. I pushed quickly until the head of my cock reached the back of her throat. She gagged, saliva pouring freely from her open mouth, tears forming in her eyes. I could feel her throat tighten on my cock head. I pulled out of her. “Do you want a safe word?” I asked, making sure she was comfortable with getting this rough. “I don’t need one,” she smiled, her own spit dripping down her tits. Perfect.
I rammed myself back into her, reaching the back of her throat more quickly this time. I kept my cock lodged in her throat and she while gagged, she never pulled away. I pulled out and grabbed my cock and rubbed it all over her face—over her eyelids, on her cheeks, all over her lips. She moaned with pleasure as I painted her with my penis and precum. I hooked my finger in the corner of her mouth like a fishhook and pushed her mouth open and thrusted into her again. I repeated the forced deep throat for a few minutes, the floor now covered in spit and tears. I then lifted my dick up and put my balls in her mouth, using my finger to push both of them in. They fit and her mouth was crammed full. She began humming in a low tone, creating a vibration on my balls that felt like heaven. “Oh suck those balls baby,” I moaned, lightly stroking my cock as she sucked. I felt the familiar pressure building and stabbed my cock into her throat just in time. Ropes and ropes of cum surged from me straight down her throat. I felt her swallowing, gagging, slurping on my seed and my cock. When I was down I pulled out, loosened her hands and wiped her face with my t-shirt.
She cleaned herself up in the bathroom and came out in one of my t-shirts. Seeing this deepthroating goddess in one of my shirts made me feel some type of way. “It’s only been a week and you’re not even done with Brock yet but I want you to be my girlfriend.” I couldn’t believe I’d caught feelings so quickly. She kissed me passionately. “Me too.” We hugged, and when she pulled away she smirked and said, “With the rate we’re going, you may want to get a couch you can hose off.”
She wasn’t wrong, we were wet and sloppy and I loved it.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gw69mt/the_roommates_part_8_nsfw
If this goes more towards BDSM i would be very pleased to say the least.
Great story anyways!