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Following subreddit rules is sexy; everyone here was over 18 during these events.
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While the winter of that year did its best to keep me locked indoors, I was warmed repeatedly by Kate’s insistent trips to my bedroom. My former student turned casual hookup kept my hands, lips, tongue, and mouth very busy in the weeks after term ended. To her credit, she was incredibly open about the fact that we were not, and would not be, exclusive. Knowing that upfront made things super easy, and we enjoyed each others’ business on and off through the waning weeks of December. As Christmas loomed, she flew home to visit her family, and I was once again left to my own devices.
My roommate and I hadn’t met prior to me starting grad college; I’d found his ad on craigslist by chance and he seemed a decent enough guy, so I signed on the dotted line and took over the room that his last roommate had abandoned without warning. We weren’t best friends or anything, but shared the space well and split pizza on Fridays while we watched the game. He was cool.
He was, however, from way out of town. His family lived in an entirely different end of the country, and his attempt to quit his job to go freelance meant that his bank profile was far too empty to consider the flight home. I wasn’t going home because I couldn’t be bothered. His sister, on the other hand, would be flying in for a visit; they were close, thick as thieves, and he raved about her successes often.
Andi, short for Andrea I’d imagine, was freshly turned 19, studying some brand of culinary content at a community school in their hometown, and was thrilled to no end by the absolutely cliché living conditions we enjoyed; the 10 year old sofa that we’d thrifted and the matching cardboard box end tables elicited a delighted ribbing as soon as she walked in the door.
The family resemblance was clear to see; neither was particularly tall, but they shared the same rosy plump cheeks that dimpled when they smirked at some privately shared joke, had the same strawberry blonde hair, and the same apparent aversion to body fat. That last had more to do with the regular gym going for them both, but they really were very alike in most things.
Still, the demands of striking out on his own meant that he needed to leave the two of us to our own devices as often as not. I wasn’t much older than she was, being 23 or 24 at the time, but I was feeling rather worldly and sure of myself then, and couldn’t imagine what to do or talk about with her. I felt bad leaving her alone, so I made the effort to be visible and present while her brother was out, but found it challenging to discover common ground with her. Queue lots of “we are having weather” and “what do you do for work” conversations. It was dry.
To hell with mediocrity though; she was travelling solo and in the big city for the first time, and I refused to be the reason she’d be glad to go back home. On the third night of her stay, I abandoned all sense of caution and asked her to join me at the pub for dinner upon her brother’s announcement that we’d be on our own for the evening. He wondered he was about to close on a client, and his half of the rent next month depended on him doing so. Does anyone else hear the cheesy porn music yet? I didn’t, but I should have listened harder.
She was a much livelier wire with two of the most prohibitively expensive cocktails I’d ever paid for in her. Being my favourite haunt in the city, I honestly wasn’t even aware they mixed drinks; I went for the beer and to look pretentious while I worked from time to time. Still, she was… a lot. The liquor loosened her tongue considerably, and she regaled me with stories of getting up to no good, raves in warehouses, the apparent disappearance of her molly plug, and the time she let 3 guys creampie her at the same music festival. If her intent was to shock me, it was half successful at best. I’d heard worse, and knew from my students that half of these things were just standard fare these days. The most amusing part about the whole thing was knowing that my roommate would have fainted to hear half of this.
It grew late, and we both needed some food. I also needed to slow her roll a bit, and decided to begin winding the night down when she repeatedly asked where we could get some blow. A stop at a nearby McDonalds and a shared cigarette later, we made it home. I had tried to be mindful of her limits, but the inability to untie my own shoelaces revealed that I was three sheets to the wind, while she industriously set about trying to turn our meager collection of cheap whiskies into another cocktail. There’s a good chance I should have looked to my own limits before acting like hers was a concern in the first place.
“I got my nipples pierced”. I was sitting in an armchair across from her on the couch. Moments blurred into one another; I hadn’t realized I’d sat down, but there was a glass of water in my hand that I was too focused on to hear her correctly. I asked her to repeat herself. She did. I told her that was very cool. She laughed at me, and told me to drink my water. It was the most delicious thing I’d ever had. She turned the TV on and we sat there watching in silence for a half hour, interrupted twice by her stealing my smokes to go have a drag on the balcony.
Feeling my senses return slowly, not to mention the feeling in my fingers and toes, I rallied myself to join her for her second trip outside. It was frosty outside, but she studied the skyline intently as I stepped out to meet her. She told me she liked it here. I did too. She smiled at me and leaned over the rail. I chastised her for smoking, saying that her brother would admonish us both if he caught her like this. She’d risk it, she said, saying she’d gotten used to sneaking them at home. We stood in contemplative silence a while longer, enjoying the night and manageable buzz.
The cold got to us both in short order, so we went back in. Given the frosty climate, her claim to having been pierced was supported by visible evidence through her tee. She caught me looking seconds after we sat back down, insisting that she hadn’t been lying. Smartening up rapidly, I recalled some advice that her own brother had given me weeks before: if a girl tells you that her nipples are pierced, the only acceptable response is “I don’t believe you”. I told her I didn’t know what she was talking about. She looked down, chin to chest, and told me that I was a bullshitter; the twin balls on the end of either stud were painfully obvious. I wasn’t sure, I told her, the lighting was poor and I was a little faded. An absolutely devilish smirk, punctuated by her dimples, told me I’d finally passed her vibe check. An elastic appeared from nowhere and her hair went into a ponytail before she peeled her thin tshirt over her head. Just like that. No ceremony, no warning, no fucking around. Legs crossed, she sat back with her hands laid flat to the cushions wide on either side of her, a waiting look and arched eyebrow on her face.
I blinked several times. She was magnificent. Ghostly pale, she had a taught tummy and a decidedly perfect pair of A cups that sat in the barest hint of a teardrop on her chest. The barbells through her pale brown nipples winked at me in the light of the tv. I swallowed hard. Yep, I said, she was right. She asked if I needed to feel them, which I most definitely did. I set my glass down and crossed the room to her resolutely; she uncrossed and spread her legs, still in their leggings, so I dropped to my knees in front of her and reached out. They were, obviously, soft as hell. She liked this immensely, leaning in to offer my waiting mouth something to suck on, which I did eagerly. She giggled as I worked my way across her chest to love on the other. The metal stud was too tempting not to pull on a little with my teeth, which she squealed at softly; I looked up to apologize and she told me to do it again.
I’d never been one for petite women or smaller boobs, but religiously worshipped her body while she ran her hands through my hair for longer than might have been reasonable. Her stomach was shockingly muscular and I loved the game of feeling her abs tensing under my lips while I tickled her with kisses. I descended, slowly, relishing her fine body with a care I’d not dedicated to anything in a long time, kissing between her thighs overtop of the thin fabric of her leggings. She massaged her own chest while I did, terminating each squeeze with a painful looking pinch before uttering a general “Oh please”.
I tugged the thin garment off her. No underwear, which surprised me in no way whatsoever, but I hardly got to enjoy the sight of her before she was pawing to get my shirt off over my head. I jerked it off and launched it disgustedly across the room, annoyed at the interruption. She was visibly turned on, lips flush and parting, with a slick sheen inviting me to give her a thorough taste. A few days of stubble promised to give my tongue a proper tickle too. I asked if she wanted me to taste her. Yes please was the reply.
So I did. Starting low, the acid tang of her sobered me up by half; I had work to do and my body offered a clear head for the job. I was ponderous slow, patiently dragging my tongue up between her lips as slowly as I could. She scooted her bum forward as I reached the top; I planted a wet kiss on her hooded clit and sucked softly before pulling away. I told her that she tasted wonderful, and she asked me to do that exact same thing again. I did so enthusiastically, several more times; she seemed to take particular pleasure from the torturously slow crawl that I’d make, and was clearly attempting a valiant effort to keep her breathing steady. She was failing, but the labour of it was propelling her into a feverish state.
I picked up the pace, taking her prominent clit between my lips and maintaining a soft sucking pressure that had her dripping messily in minutes. I loved being between her legs, and resolved to stay there all night if she’d let me; her legs hooked at the ankles over my shoulders, locking me in place, suggested that she’d like that just as much. She bit her forefinger hard, the other hand clinging to a pillow next to her like a drowning woman might claw a life preserver. Over the torturous minutes of breathless attention, he tummy relaxed less and less often until she was obviously holding her breath and clenching her entire body in hopes of finally eliciting her orgasm. I took one final breath and dove in to bring her home. Her teeth ground, her toes curled, a bead of sweat ran a wet track down her cheek and, finally, her riotous trembling bucked her across the finish line. I was oddly proud of how hard she’d worked with me to give us both what we wanted.
My chin was drenched in her, as were her thighs, mound, and asshole. She patted herself wetly, moaning softly, and thanked me as I caught my breath and rested back on my haunches. Deplorably greedy, I wanted more of her, and she was more than happy to turn around for me, knees wide and arms across the back of the couch. The froglike spread of her legs and the admirable arch of her fit back presented her bubbly ass so enticingly that I dove back in with impulsive excitement. She was sloppily wet now and I was dying to drown myself in her, privately telling myself that my cock would sit tonight out entirely just for the joy of devouring her again. She bounced her ass back into my face and I shamelessly motorboated her gorgeous pussy, hands holding fast to anything I could reach. Her squeaks and squeals propelled me on and I begged her to cum again for me, hopelessly imploring her to cum on my tongue like it was all I’d ever needed. I was told to keep it up and she’d happily give me what I wanted.
And she did. Three more times. Her clear, slightly sour fluid or my own spit covered a nearly embarrassing expanse of my face and her body below the belly button. Even so, she rewarded me while I ate her from behind again, laid back on the sofa for me for another, and slithered to the ground where we both tangled on the bare hardwood until her back arched near to its certain breaking point. She was spent. Or so I wondered.
She lay next to me, on her back and her probing fingers fiddled at my fly as she stared me dead in the eye, sweaty and flushed with contentment. I told her I was happy as I was, but she wouldn’t have it and told me to take it out. I undid my button, zipper, and wiggled the waist of my briefs down to let it flop out lazily onto my tummy. She rolled onto her side and reached down to stroke me while she kissed at my neck and check; she insisted that she loved to taste herself on me and proved it my licking my lips clean while she jerked and stroked me. She sat up now, holding her body halfway upright with one arm while she stared at her hand in motion; fat pearly beads of precum served as all the lubricant she needed and she alternated dirty looks between my eyes and the head of my cock. She had an expertly firm grip and punishing pace; I was a whimpering mess there on the flat of my back, making absolutely no attempt to hold back from what was coming. She demanded that I watch myself cum with her, and we both gazed on and she directed my pulsing cock upward so that each erupting rope of my cum tracked up in sticky runs all the way up my torso.
It was wonderful. Perfect agony. I’d be ashamed at how hard it was to meet my roommates eye for weeks after, but the abrasive tingle of her stubbly pussy on my tongue still reminded me of her delicious desperation long after we dropped her back off at the airport later in the week. I was sure we’d meet again.
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Another week, another entry. You can check out the previous issues by heading to the post pinned to my account. If you liked what you saw here or just want to say hello, drop me a opinion or DM or whatever you like! Be good!
NSFW: yes
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