[MF] I (m22) moved in with my friend’s girlfriend (f21); we started sleeping together. (Part 1/2)

*Just as a note, this happened a long time ago and all the fallout of the event has been resolved. I’m not looking for advice or reprimands for what happened, I’m just here to post some smut. That is all.*

About 5 years ago, I was 22 and moving out of home to a sharehouse with a friend (23) and his girlfriend (21). This living-together plan had been in the works for 2 years and was finally happening. I’d always been dying to live away from family, and ideally by myself, but given various personal and real-estate circumstances that just was not viable at this time. So despite my reservations regarding living with a couple, I figured it was now or never, and just at the start of January we moved in.

The house was small and simple. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small kitchen/living space, and a very small courtyard that held a few pot plants and a couple of chairs. It was certainly an up-and-comer, and I hoped over the coming months we’d be able to spruce the place up a bit. Thankfully, Allie (the girlfriend), had similar ambitions for the home, and we already had a couple of plans for how to make it more welcoming to guests. John (my friend, Allie’s boyfriend) wasn’t as involved with these plans. He seemed pretty impartial to the state of the home, which I was a little irritated about since we had explicitly stated before moving in that taking care of the house will be a very well-regulated responsibility among the three of us. But I quickly figured out why this was the case. Before that, though, I’ll get some descriptions out of the way:

Allie is a gorgeous blonde who is lucky enough to be stunning without the need for makeup. She’s just a little shorter than me (I’m 6ft, she’s 5ft 8″), and is what some people would call “Stacked”. She has an average-to-lightweight body and really large breasts. She often hid her figure behind baggy clothes, but every now and then she’d pick an outfit that really complimented her knockout body and *whew* it was hard not to notice. I always thought she was pretty, and John knew as much, but I never made a move or imagined anything beyond our mutual friendship. Admittedly, I didn’t really know her that well, but she has a really friendly personality and is a super enthusiastic conversationalist, so we always got along at least.

As for myself, I’m a pretty standard skinny build that has managed to tone a little bit thanks to an on-and-off exercise routine. Nothing special, but one thing I do have going for me is I have really nice hands (this will be important later, I promise).

So, it took less than a day to start noticing problems with this new setup the three of us found ourselves in. The primary issue I discovered was that John *did not plan on living here most of the time*. He was going to divide up his week so a few days he’d live with us, and on the other days he would stay with his family for “work travel” reasons. It wasn’t hard to read between the lines when Allie was telling me this while we were sitting out in the garden; she was pissed at him for not committing to moving in with her, and it was a bad sign for their relationship.

At this point, I should have gone to John and told him that it was a bad idea for him to half-ass this move-in thing. That it was a big deal to Allie, and she was pretty upset about it. But I didn’t do that, partially because I thought it wasn’t my business, partially because I didn’t care. He was still planning on paying his share of the rent, so as far as I was concerned, I was getting what I wanted. Pretty dumb, but what can ya do.

The reason why John splitting up his time at the house was a bad thing is pretty simple: It gave Allie and I a *lot* of time alone together. And that’s how it was for the first month. John would be around two or three days a week, and for the rest he’d be away with his family. Allie and I would hang out when we weren’t working, and we started getting to know each other properly. And, needless to say, I started getting very interested in her, and I was pretty sure she felt the same.

It started out just as playful flirting, kicked off by discussing past relationships. I got caught out fairly early on when she asked me what my “type” was, and I unknowingly ended up pretty much describing her. She gave me a knowing look but didn’t taunt me about it at the time, thankfully.

When alcohol was added into the mix, I got braver, and when we drank and watched movies, I offered to put my arm around her, which she liked. Then I felt some kind of electricity running through my fingers, and as I looked down, I saw that she was lightly drawing circles on my hand with hers – idly, while watching the movie. It really did feel like electricity. Her skin was so smooth, and being touched by her had my already-buzzed head buzzing like mad. Over the weeks, we watched a few movies, and eventually it got to the point where light strokes on the hands and arms were unmistakable signs of affection.

One time, she held my hand during a scary scene and didn’t bother letting it go for the rest of the movie. At one point we were laughing together at some joke she made about the film, and in an unthinking moment of comfort and bliss, I kissed her lightly on the head. I immediately panicked, and my heart started racing, which I’m sure she heard since she was leaning on me. She just let out a gentle, happy “mmm”, and nothing else came of it.

After the film, as we headed off to bed, she sent me a message saying:

“I wanted to ask for a hug, but I’m too shy…”

I said, “I guess I’ll have to be the one to ask, then”

We met back up in the living room and gave each other a big, gleeful hug. I don’t know if it was the alcohol that had us smiling and laughing, or if it was the *crush-feel* we had for each other, but it was a happy, fantastic hug. We pulled each other tight, breathed each other in – she smelled like sweet orange soap – and I felt her breasts pushing against me. I don’t know if she felt how hard I was getting from the contact, but she let out a little chuckle and sheepishly, tiredly, said goodnight.

Things continued like that for a while, with no mention of those events getting back to John from my end. By now, we were both already partaking in emotional cheating, but I didn’t come here to write about that. Soon enough, we’ll get to the physical part.

That *crush-feel* I mentioned is a fucking strong emotional pull. That first month of living with Allie felt like a permanent high. I was just so happy to have someone like her around nearly all the time. Amazingly, we were a great compliment to each other, had a lot of similar interests, and just loved talking about anything. Sad that the recipe for a perfect relationship in this case spelt disaster, but that *crush-feel* has a way of blocking out those concerns. And this next part is one of the few times I can say for certain that it got Allie to make a move she wouldn’t normally make.

We were at a party for a mutual friend, I was a designated driver, and Allie ended up getting pretty drunk. Someone challenged her to a shot competition, and she doesn’t back away from shit like that, so it really knocked her down. Thankfully that was pretty early into the night, so when I came to her on the couch to say it was time to go, she’d recovered enough to make it to the car on her own. At this point I’d like to make a disclaimer to anyone who is worried: Allie and I do not have sex during this part of the story where she is drunk, and I am sober. You can read on without that concern. All I wanted to do was drive her home and go to sleep because I had a full day of work tomorrow.

As we’re driving, and she’s laying down in the backseat (she didn’t want to ride up front because the streetlights were too bright), she drunkenly asks to hold my hand. Considering we’ve gotten pretty used to light hand-touching and little displays of affection like that, I didn’t really think too much of it. She just wanted some comfort while her body was working through the alcohol. So, I managed to twist one arm around to the backseat where she took hold of it and kinda rested on it a bit. She let out a happy little *”coo”* as I adjusted to my new uncomfortable position of driving one-handed while my arm was pinned in the backseat by the beautiful girl I was crushing on. I was so into her. I would have crashed the car for an extra second of handholding with Allie. So, I’m trying to focus on driving while she’s mumbling some incoherent things in the back that I can’t make out. Eventually, I do hear her say “You have such perfect hands,” (told ya) and I chuckle a “thank you” to her. Then, she ever-so-gently starts to kiss my hand. Starting from the base of my palm – at the wrist, pecking around to the back and slowly up towards my knuckles. Then, from my knuckles, through the space between my thumb and pointer, to the palm of my hand.

Now, I don’t *think* I have a handplay fetish, but I am hard as a rock at this point, and I have no idea if she knows what she’s doing to me. She just keeps on kissing around my palm, back down towards the base of my thumb. *Then* she teases out the tip of her tongue, and *draaaaaaags* it up the base of my thumb to the base of my pointer finger. It’s such a light amount of contact, but her tongue is so warm, and the breath she leaves as she moves across my hand feels so fucking nice. It is *so* hard to drive when this is happening, but somehow I’m still alive to talk about it. At this point, I notice that her breathing is actually pretty heavy. I start to realize that this isn’t just a friendly, drunken expression of affection. She is feeling what I’m feeling too. This is a sexual thing for both of us, and when she starts getting more generous with her tongue — gliding it up my pointer finger — I’m sure we’re both wishing that it was my cock.

And, as if to answer my question, she *sloooowly* pushes my finger into her mouth, running her hot wet tongue along it, taking it to the base so I can start to feel the back of her mouth. (Man, and I thought our hands touching was electrifying; this was something else entirely.) She holds it there for a moment, sliding her tongue all over it, then slowly pulls it back out. She takes a break by tonguing the space between my pointer and middle finger, and I think I hear her say “not enough…” in a sexy mix of tongue, finger, and drool.

She then very purposely holds my pointer and middle fingers together, and starts taking both of them into her mouth pushing all the way to the base again, slowly. She does this a few times over the course of a minute that feels like hours to me. Then she starts to pick up the pace, moving my fingers in and out of her mouth like she’s bobbing her head on my cock, trying to get it to cum. Her breathing is fast and ragged, she’s moaning vibrations against my fingers, and I am so desperate to turn my head to see how fucking hot she looks but I’m still trying to drive. I want to pull over and watch her suck my fingers. I want to watch her touch herself while she does it. I want to reach over with my other hand and squeeze her perfect tits and feel how wet she’s getting from doing this. I want to climb into the backseat with her and give her the real thing.

But that would be bad, so I don’t.

Eventually, she pops my fingers out of her mouth and lets go of my hand. I think she fell asleep pretty quickly then. After a few more minutes, we get home, and I help her inside. My cock is still so fucking hard, and she still has saliva on her face, but it’s time to say goodnight. I take her to her room, and I go to mine, but it took me a long while to get to sleep.

*I need to leave it there since apparently the original post was too long. I have part 2 written up already, but I guess I’ll see if there’s interest first. Thanks for reading!*

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/stffhs/mf_i_m22_moved_in_with_my_friends_girlfriend_f21