And They Were Roomates.

And They Were Roomates.

Lucy hit send on the email and flipped the laptop closed, leaning back against the couch cushions. Muttering, she said, "Man. Fuck those guys." Presumably about whomever she'd had to email. She stretched stiffly and glanced at the clock. How in fuck was it 2:38 am?  Yawning, she rose and padded down the hall in her socks. She paused at her roommate's door to say goodnight, but Erin was completely out.  Lucy admired her friend while leaning in the doorframe.

The girls had been friends for years and roommates for almost as long.  People often joked they were a couple. Maybe in Lucy's secret heart they were, but she'd never even made a pass at Erin. Friendships were irrevocably broken for less. Erin had always joked they were in a sexless marriage and were constantly stepping out on one another.  As it was, the girls talked about everything. Work, lovers, family, the gross and intimate details of sharing a home together.  Even what they liked and preferred in bed.

Which is why, when Erin shifted in bed and Lucy saw she wasn't wearing a thing under her oversized tee-shirt, she remembered something Erin told her about wanting to wake up to being fucked.

It was risky.

But it might be worth it.

Maybe?

She made up her mind. Both of them were going through a dry spell and she could explain herself…somewhat plausibly?  Lucy slipped down to her room for some supplies, then tiptoed back.

The dim light from the hall lit up Erin’s curves, and Lucy allowed herself a moment to just absorb the scene.  She’d looked, surreptitiously, at Erin over the years.  But she never allowed herself a moment to just ogle her, so she luxuriated in that for a moment.  Erin had always been her type.  Or had she based her type on Erin?  She wasn’t sure anymore.  Did it matter?  She was here now.

Gingerly, she stepped over to the bed, and lowered herself to sit on the edge.  Erin stirred only a little, but didn’t wake, and Lucy released a held breath.  Ever so slowly, she trailed a finger over Erin’s hip.  The other girl remained blissfully unaware.  So Lucy began to move farther, hands trailing over exposed skin, not daring to travel further than the arms and legs that were available to her just yet.  Erin stretched and smiled, and mumbled something incoherent, making Lucy freeze mid-pet.  When she was sure Erin wasn’t waking, she resumed her slow, lazy exploration of Erin’s skin, but she could feel her own growing impatience; she wanted more.

Gingerly, Lucy began to push Erin’s shirt up, revealing the delicious curves she’d only dreamed about for years.  She gulped.  ‘Am I really doing this?’ she wondered, even as she slid the shirt up further, baring Erin's breasts  It took a moment for Erin’s body to respond to the change in temperature, but her nipples stiffened into tight peaks.  Lucy bit her lip to stifle a moan. 

She ran her fingertips over Erin's stomach, over her ribcage, and began idly tracing designs over her breasts. For her part, Erin trembled in sleep, arching up into Lucy's hands, whimpering. Emboldened, Lucy leaned down, using the point of her tongue to run a lazy circle around Erin's nipple. Erin shuddered, and rolled away from the sensations. Lucy had a moment of vaguely needy panic and shook it off.  It wasn’t like they were actually both playing together.  She ran her hands over Erin’s hips, and down over her ass.  Fuck.  The way that ass filled her hands.

Lucy had a dilemma.  She could continue petting Erin’s (admittedly fantastic) soft skin, or move forward with the “seduction”, such as it was.  After a moment’s hesitation, Lucy sent her hand questing between Erin’s legs, and was delightfully rewarded to find that her previous petting had made Erin’s cunt start leaking liquid desire.  Starting slowly, Lucy ran a single finger through the wetness, just lightly stroking Erin’s labia before sinking her finger in deeper.  Erin sighed and purred.  Lucy watched her in the twilight in the room, heart pounding out of her chest.  Eyes flickering, Erin sleepily looked about, before sinking back into sleep.

Lucy began running her fingers through Erin’s slicked labia in earnest, slowly sliding a finger into her pussy, a little bit at a time, until she was finger fucking her best friend with a single digit, long and slow.  When Erin shuddered and whimpered in her sleep, Lucy added a second digit, increasing the tempo, and in sleep, Erin responded by rewarding Lucy’s efforts with even more juices for her to work with.  Beginning to lose herself in this completely one-sided moment, Lucy slid a hand into her bra, pinching and rolling her own nipples, feeling more and more needy.

And brave.  She added her thumb to the mix to swirl over Erin’s clit.

Erin rolled to her back, squealing, hips lifting.  Once she settled back again, Lucy began the achingly slow assault on Erin’s pussy, rolling her clit under her thumb, two fingers pumping into her cunt, her other hand fed up with nipples slid down into her pants and her own sodden slit. She was really into it now, fingers working her own wet quim, the other hand fucking Erin in earnest.  Erin was beginning to pant and mewl in her sleep, hips starting to move in time with the very wet, wicked fucking she was getting.  Lucy felt Erin getting tighter and tighter under her fingers.  She was so lost in the sensation of Erin’s impending climax, she didn’t notice the other girl was lying, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, panting.

“S…slower….Lou…please.”  Erin moaned.  Lucy yelped, snatching her hand back from Erin’s body. “Fuck I’m so sorry…sorry…sorry…”  She was gathering herself up to flee when Erin sat up and pulled Lucy to her.  “Finish what you…” She was panting, lightheaded, “Finish what you fucking started.”  Lucy blinked.  “Please!” Erin whined. Uncertainly, Lucy slid her fingers back into Erin’s pussy, resuming the slow, hard finger fucking she had been doling out just moments ago.  Erin squealed, wrapping an arm around Lucy’s shoulders.  Slowly, that squeezing was starting to come back.  Erin’s head was tipped back and she was breathing shallowly.  “Fuck…ah….fuck Lucy…”  Lucy took in the scene.  Her in Erin’s arms.  Erin blushing.  Erin fucking her fingers back after waking up to Lucy taking advantage of her.  Leaning in, she buried her face in Erin’s neck, breathing her in.  “Yes.  Honey please.”  Erin whimpered. Everything was becoming a blur, her hand working Erin to orgasm, Erin’s gasping encouragement, Lucy’s own growing need, until everything shrunk down to one moment.  Erin grabbed Lucy’s chin and hauled her mouth up to hers, driving her tongue into Lucy’s mouth as she came completely undone under Lucy’s fingers, burying her cries in a very unconventional first kiss.

Lucy was floating, Erin’s orgasmic sobs filling her mouth, one hand being milked by her clasping pussy, the other arm wrapped around the girl she’d only been dreaming of fucking for the past several years.  She wanted to cry from joy.  As it was, she continued the kiss, but slowed her assault on Erin’s cunt, working her down from the high of orgasm, until she stilled, her hand still buried between Erin’s legs, though.

Erin ended the kiss with a series of smaller, softer kisses, finally just pressing her forehead to Lucy’s, trying to regain control of her breathing.  She was smiling, eyes closed, before chuckling softly.

“What?” Lucy asked.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that for months.  Jesus Christ.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Erin pulled back and looked at Lucy, deadpan.  “I love you.  You’re a dense, silly bitch though.”

Lucy’s face broke into a smile, and she leaned up, capturing Erin’s lips with her own.

Bussed

Do you remember the first time you kissed me? Not that nervous, eager, needy mashing of two mouths together, or that filler while we tore at one another’s clothes. No. The first time you actually met my lips with yours for no other reason than the need to taste my mouth with yours. To feel the heat of my breath meeting yours, the slow co-mingling of inhale and exhale intertwining. Do you remember each aching hesitation, the gentle caress of my tongue sliding against yours, insistent and yet yielding? How I started off tasting like myself but together we created a flavour that was sweet and spicy and utterly addictive? I know I smiled into the gentle tugging at my lips with yours, and you smiled back, so joyful. Those long lost moments made me lightheaded, longing for you, for us, joined.

You don’t remember? You’ve never kissed me like that?

Now is a perfect time to start. I’m waiting.

tfw you finally figure out your kinks and have a whole new language in which to express yourself and you can't shut up about it.

Re: my last post. What some "lovers" have said to me.

Sonnet 3

Fevered flesh burns beneath taut fingertips

Each stroke and pull awakens more desire

Memories melt like honey on my lips

Each fresh remembrance setting me afire.

I'll replay ev’rything I've memorized

Your name synonymous with need and ache

Undeniably I am tantalized

From daydreams of you let me never wake

I'll build a bridge out of my arching spine

Fill up my sails with ev’ry gasping breath

Out of my quaking ribcage build a shrine

I'll sigh your name with every little death

I will soon collapse into your embrace

But until then will dream of your sweet face

Mine

You sleep, peacefully, unaware that I'm curling up behind you. I pull you against me, burying my face into the middle of your back, breathing you in. You smell so good

I run my hands over your skin, listening for how your breathing changes depending on where and how I touch you. Those soft sleepy moans you make are divine; I feel so powerful. I can make you so needy in your sleep

Finally my questing hands reach for my prize: your stiffening cock. I love that you're ready for me, and kiss your back softly. A few obscene sounds from the bottle of lube I have on hand, and I start to run a slick finger around your asshole.

Those shuddery breaths you make are heavenly, and I work my finger into you, loosening you. Fuck, it's so slutty, you working back against me in your sleep. Needing this. Wanting this.

Sensing you're ready, I line the strap up against you, before slowly working myself into you. Your soft whimpers are delicious, and I reach for your cock to stroke you while I fuck you.

i like how sleeping people have no filters. You don't even realize you're riding me as I fuck and stroke you. The most vulnerable version of you is such a whore for me.

I could go on like this forever, thrusting into you, my fingers dancing over your shaft, listening to the moans you can't hide from. But your climax is building. I can tell from how much harder your working against me, how your turgid length throbs in my hand. I won't prolong this delicious sleepy torture. You need release and I want to give it to you.

A combination of things tilts you into bliss as you cum; I can't pinpoint any one event as the culprit for your climax. Maybe it's the strap in your ass or my hand on your cock, or, hell, the soft, encouraging kisses I pepper over your back as I work. It doesn't matter. Your whimpers are such a delight as you spill your need over my knuckles.

After a moment, all is quiet. I survey the damage: open, lubed hole, messy stomach, cock, sheets. I slide off my harness and set it aside, debating whether to clean you up, but opt instead for you to wake to evidence of your use. One final touch, though. Using your cum, I fingerpaint one word over your pubic bone: Mine.