Mme Moreau
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Christina and I ended up being more than a drunken one night stand. I remember her walking out of my room at 6am, completely naked, before checking the hallway and running back into her room. The view was one I just couldn't say no to.
I didn't openly pursue it, but drunken night after drunken night, she kept finding her way into my bed. I was hardly putting up a fight either. In fact, more than a couple times I found myself knocking on her door. Eventually we just took turns in each others rooms. And soon enough we weren't just housemates: we were a couple.
Before the thought could hit me that we were technically already living together, the summer came. With that she moved out. She had already had plans to move in with friends long before we were an item, so there was no need to worry about living together as a new couple.
The time we lived across from each other was a blur of drunken sex and hungover mornings spent lying in bed together. Once she moved out, we were still in the honeymoon phase, so not too much had changed.
I fell in love with her and she did with me. It was a perfect relationship for the first bit. I would come home from class to find her naked in my bed playing video games. I wasn't sure which aspect of that was more of a turn on. Any days she didn't have class, she would be sexting me until I came home to satisfy her.
After a couple months of us living apart, things started to stagnate.
I took a break from school for a year to figure out what I wanted to do. This meant that when she was in class filling her head with new information, I was at home playing video games and getting high. When she came home she wanted to have politically charged conversations and ethical debates. I never shied away from a conversation, but when the time came to talk about my day, it was usually to update her on my recent progress in whatever game I was playing.
It started to take a toll on our relationship. We still loved each other, but we fought constantly. It seemed we couldn't go a party or a night out without having a giant blow up fight. Eventually one of those fights, which happened on my break at work, was the last straw.
I begged and pleaded when she said it was over, but nothing I could say would get her to change her mind. It was passed the breaking point.
That night I lay in bed, depressed and waiting for her call. While I was cuddled up in blankets refusing to give it up, she was at a club, dressed to the nines, trying to get over it.
She called me drunk at 5am: she was crying.
She ranted on and on about her night and how she met some guy who wanted to kiss her, who tried to kiss her, but she just kept thinking about me. How she wanted to be with me. How this guy made her realize she wasn't over me.
All I heard was about this other guy. How she'd put herself out there and probably flirted with him to the point where he tried to kiss her. I couldn't hear anything she said after that and refused to work things out.
As far as I was concerned, she had cheated on me. Suddenly, I was over it.
Over the next couple weeks, I mourned what I had lost. I felt pretty miserable so I surrounded myself with friends. It kept my mind off things, even if it was only a temporary fix.
On this particular night, I was hanging with my friend Brandy. We had been friends for awhile and even housemates a couple relationships past. Her friend Maggie was over as well.
Maggie was passingly attractive. She was kinda cute in a boring sort of way. She had terrible teeth that I just couldn't get over, otherwise I would have made a move already.
We flirted in the middle school manner. That is, I picked on her and made fun of her in a way I considered sincere and she assumed it was because I liked her.
I just couldn't get past her teeth though. Which was unfortunate because she had probably the biggest pair of tits I had seen at that point in my life. Fucking her was a decision I could never quite make.
They were massive though, E cups at the very least. They weren't the elephant in the room by any means either, they were a constant source of conversation. Brandy quite regularly mentioned them and gave them a firm squeeze just to make sure we knew what boobs she was referring to. Every time Maggie bent over in the shirt she was wearing, I could just imagine sticking my dick between her cleavage and titfucking her until I came all over them.
We were deep in another session of childish flirting and Brandy seemed to want little to do with it. After playfully picking on her, I had laid my feet on her lap and beckoned to her.
"Maggie, rub my feet."
In a moment of surprise, she shrugged and proceeded to do just that. There were no quips or playful insults back, she just started rubbing my feet.
My immediate thought was that she seemed good at taking orders. I wondered if she would oblige as obediently if I had asked her to suck me off. I imagined her shrugging and taking my cock in her mouth.
Would any order be that easy? Take your top off. Bend over. Spread your cheeks. Take that dick. The thought aroused me immensely.
In the middle of my footrub, my phone went off. At first I thought it was a mistake, I hadn't spoke to Christina in weeks. Why would she be calling me?
I let it go to voicemail, but she kept calling. Eventually I answered. The call that followed was one of the longest and most irritating calls of my life.
She was crying and complaining about her night. She had gone out with friends and they had left her alone. Now she was drunk and miserable and needed someone to talk to. I wasn't having it.
At first I responded like an asshole. After all, she hadn't done anything to deserve more than that. I continued to put up an iron front and decline every invitation to meet up. This just ended up with her being more miserable and finally it got to the point where I needed to put her down in person.
Finally I agreed to meet her at my place. She was drunk, there was no logic to her. I had to do this in person.
I explained the situation to Brandy and Maggie. I exaggerated how much of a drag it was and stressed how much I didn't want to get back with her. Maggie tried to play it cool, but she seemed a little worried. I promised her that Christina was even more annoying than she was and flashed her a smile. She seemed relieved, but outside of making sure I saw her breasts, I didn't really care.
Christina came in wearing a dark red dress with slightly torn stockings and smeared make up. She looked miserable, which made her vulnerable.
"Hi," she meekly managed.
I sighed. It was all I could manage.
"I'm sorry. I just had a really bad night. Sara and I got in a fight and then she just left me and went off with some guy."
She sniffled.
"Why did you fight?"
"Because I wouldn't go to some guys house afterwards. She's such a bitch."
"Which guy? The one from the bar that night?"
Her silence said it all. I started to get up.
"It's not like that," she sobbed. "We went on a couple dates, that was all. We were out drinking and he wanted me to go back to his place and I said no! But Sara was into his roommate so when I didn't want to go, she got mad and said I was leading him on."
I stood at the edge of the bed.
"Did you kiss him?"
She sniffed again.
"Yes."
"What else have you done?"
"That's it. We danced a little bit and that's it, I'm just not ready for that."
I started to walk away and she grabbed at my arm.
"I don't want him. I want you!"
She stood up from the edge of the bed and kissed me. At first I stood there dumbly. I was refusing to kiss her back, but she refused to stop. Eventually I couldn't feign disinterest much longer and began to reciprocate.
She unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor, clearly in a hurry to move things along. Underneath the dress were matching black lace undergarments with red accents. This wasn't something she had accidentally thrown together.
"What's his name?"
She stopped kissing me and gave me a confused look.
"What?"
"The guy you were seeing tonight. The one you wore this dress for and the black lace bra and panties. I've never seen it before, so you probably bought it for him too. What's his name?"
She unconsciously rubbed her arms together and she looked to the ground.
"Tom."
"And you wanted Tom to see this tonight. You wanted him to fuck you?"
Her eyes were glued to the ground.
"Yes."
"Turn around and bend over."
She did exactly as I asked and I proceeded to rub my fingers along her slit, through her underwear. She was sopping wet. Her panties were soaked, I sure hadn't done this that quickly.
"You're so fucking wet. Were you grinding up on Tom and getting horny? Were you getting wet at the thought of him fucking you?"
She moaned quietly.
"Mm. Yes. I just wanted someone to fuck me."
I laughed lightly.
"And you would have taken anyone, wouldn't you? You just wanted someone to use you and fuck you properly didn't you?"
She moaned again.
"Yes."
"But you didn't let him fuck you. Why was that?"
"Because I'm yours."
"You're damn right you are."
I slapped her hard on the ass and felt her body shake. I ripped her lace panties down to her knees and easily slipped two fingers inside her. I felt her shake again.
I continued to finger her while teasing her asshole with my thumb. Every now and then I would pull out and play with her clit. I talked dirty to her, relishing in her obedient responses. The same responses I had fantasized about with Maggie just hours before.
Finally I grabbed a condom from a drawer and hastily put it on. I strutted over and gave her a firm slap on the ass to hear her yelp and immediately thrust myself into her. She cried out in pleasure as I pumped deeply into her.
I slowed down my thrusts as I slid my hand down her back, deftly removing her bra with one hand. It slid down her arms and I reached both hands on her sizeable breasts. I played with her nipples while I pushed deep into her, grinding my hips against her ass.
I grabbed at her hair and pulled back, hearing her gasp as I did so. I slapped her on the ass again with my free hand.
"You're a dirty fucking slut, aren't you?"
She called out in pleasure.
"I'm your dirty slut, please fuck me like the whore that I am!"
I pushed her shoulders down and pressed her flat against the bed with her ass hanging over the edge. I dug my nails into her ass and pounded into her as hard as I could with my cock.
"Oh yea, fuck me. Fuck me hard."
I pictured her getting fucked in a bathroom stall by the faceless Tom while still wearing her dress. It made me sick to my stomach but also hard as a rock.
I went for as long as I could then pulled out and came all over her ass. I stepped back and took a look at my masterpiece. She was covered in sweat and cum and lightly shaking on my bed, but not getting up.
She spent the night and we cuddled and were in a relationship again for a single night, but that was it. As soon as she left, all our problems came back and nothing was right again. As soon as I saw her leave, I put her out of my mind. But I couldn't forget the pleasure of her obedience, and that brought my mind back to Maggie.
I didn't openly pursue it, but drunken night after drunken night, she kept finding her way into my bed. I was hardly putting up a fight either. In fact, more than a couple times I found myself knocking on her door. Eventually we just took turns in each others rooms. And soon enough we weren't just housemates: we were a couple.
Before the thought could hit me that we were technically already living together, the summer came. With that she moved out. She had already had plans to move in with friends long before we were an item, so there was no need to worry about living together as a new couple.
The time we lived across from each other was a blur of drunken sex and hungover mornings spent lying in bed together. Once she moved out, we were still in the honeymoon phase, so not too much had changed.
I fell in love with her and she did with me. It was a perfect relationship for the first bit. I would come home from class to find her naked in my bed playing video games. I wasn't sure which aspect of that was more of a turn on. Any days she didn't have class, she would be sexting me until I came home to satisfy her.
After a couple months of us living apart, things started to stagnate.
I took a break from school for a year to figure out what I wanted to do. This meant that when she was in class filling her head with new information, I was at home playing video games and getting high. When she came home she wanted to have politically charged conversations and ethical debates. I never shied away from a conversation, but when the time came to talk about my day, it was usually to update her on my recent progress in whatever game I was playing.
It started to take a toll on our relationship. We still loved each other, but we fought constantly. It seemed we couldn't go a party or a night out without having a giant blow up fight. Eventually one of those fights, which happened on my break at work, was the last straw.
I begged and pleaded when she said it was over, but nothing I could say would get her to change her mind. It was passed the breaking point.
That night I lay in bed, depressed and waiting for her call. While I was cuddled up in blankets refusing to give it up, she was at a club, dressed to the nines, trying to get over it.
She called me drunk at 5am: she was crying.
She ranted on and on about her night and how she met some guy who wanted to kiss her, who tried to kiss her, but she just kept thinking about me. How she wanted to be with me. How this guy made her realize she wasn't over me.
All I heard was about this other guy. How she'd put herself out there and probably flirted with him to the point where he tried to kiss her. I couldn't hear anything she said after that and refused to work things out.
As far as I was concerned, she had cheated on me. Suddenly, I was over it.
Over the next couple weeks, I mourned what I had lost. I felt pretty miserable so I surrounded myself with friends. It kept my mind off things, even if it was only a temporary fix.
On this particular night, I was hanging with my friend Brandy. We had been friends for awhile and even housemates a couple relationships past. Her friend Maggie was over as well.
Maggie was passingly attractive. She was kinda cute in a boring sort of way. She had terrible teeth that I just couldn't get over, otherwise I would have made a move already.
We flirted in the middle school manner. That is, I picked on her and made fun of her in a way I considered sincere and she assumed it was because I liked her.
I just couldn't get past her teeth though. Which was unfortunate because she had probably the biggest pair of tits I had seen at that point in my life. Fucking her was a decision I could never quite make.
They were massive though, E cups at the very least. They weren't the elephant in the room by any means either, they were a constant source of conversation. Brandy quite regularly mentioned them and gave them a firm squeeze just to make sure we knew what boobs she was referring to. Every time Maggie bent over in the shirt she was wearing, I could just imagine sticking my dick between her cleavage and titfucking her until I came all over them.
We were deep in another session of childish flirting and Brandy seemed to want little to do with it. After playfully picking on her, I had laid my feet on her lap and beckoned to her.
"Maggie, rub my feet."
In a moment of surprise, she shrugged and proceeded to do just that. There were no quips or playful insults back, she just started rubbing my feet.
My immediate thought was that she seemed good at taking orders. I wondered if she would oblige as obediently if I had asked her to suck me off. I imagined her shrugging and taking my cock in her mouth.
Would any order be that easy? Take your top off. Bend over. Spread your cheeks. Take that dick. The thought aroused me immensely.
In the middle of my footrub, my phone went off. At first I thought it was a mistake, I hadn't spoke to Christina in weeks. Why would she be calling me?
I let it go to voicemail, but she kept calling. Eventually I answered. The call that followed was one of the longest and most irritating calls of my life.
She was crying and complaining about her night. She had gone out with friends and they had left her alone. Now she was drunk and miserable and needed someone to talk to. I wasn't having it.
At first I responded like an asshole. After all, she hadn't done anything to deserve more than that. I continued to put up an iron front and decline every invitation to meet up. This just ended up with her being more miserable and finally it got to the point where I needed to put her down in person.
Finally I agreed to meet her at my place. She was drunk, there was no logic to her. I had to do this in person.
I explained the situation to Brandy and Maggie. I exaggerated how much of a drag it was and stressed how much I didn't want to get back with her. Maggie tried to play it cool, but she seemed a little worried. I promised her that Christina was even more annoying than she was and flashed her a smile. She seemed relieved, but outside of making sure I saw her breasts, I didn't really care.
Christina came in wearing a dark red dress with slightly torn stockings and smeared make up. She looked miserable, which made her vulnerable.
"Hi," she meekly managed.
I sighed. It was all I could manage.
"I'm sorry. I just had a really bad night. Sara and I got in a fight and then she just left me and went off with some guy."
She sniffled.
"Why did you fight?"
"Because I wouldn't go to some guys house afterwards. She's such a bitch."
"Which guy? The one from the bar that night?"
Her silence said it all. I started to get up.
"It's not like that," she sobbed. "We went on a couple dates, that was all. We were out drinking and he wanted me to go back to his place and I said no! But Sara was into his roommate so when I didn't want to go, she got mad and said I was leading him on."
I stood at the edge of the bed.
"Did you kiss him?"
She sniffed again.
"Yes."
"What else have you done?"
"That's it. We danced a little bit and that's it, I'm just not ready for that."
I started to walk away and she grabbed at my arm.
"I don't want him. I want you!"
She stood up from the edge of the bed and kissed me. At first I stood there dumbly. I was refusing to kiss her back, but she refused to stop. Eventually I couldn't feign disinterest much longer and began to reciprocate.
She unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor, clearly in a hurry to move things along. Underneath the dress were matching black lace undergarments with red accents. This wasn't something she had accidentally thrown together.
"What's his name?"
She stopped kissing me and gave me a confused look.
"What?"
"The guy you were seeing tonight. The one you wore this dress for and the black lace bra and panties. I've never seen it before, so you probably bought it for him too. What's his name?"
She unconsciously rubbed her arms together and she looked to the ground.
"Tom."
"And you wanted Tom to see this tonight. You wanted him to fuck you?"
Her eyes were glued to the ground.
"Yes."
"Turn around and bend over."
She did exactly as I asked and I proceeded to rub my fingers along her slit, through her underwear. She was sopping wet. Her panties were soaked, I sure hadn't done this that quickly.
"You're so fucking wet. Were you grinding up on Tom and getting horny? Were you getting wet at the thought of him fucking you?"
She moaned quietly.
"Mm. Yes. I just wanted someone to fuck me."
I laughed lightly.
"And you would have taken anyone, wouldn't you? You just wanted someone to use you and fuck you properly didn't you?"
She moaned again.
"Yes."
"But you didn't let him fuck you. Why was that?"
"Because I'm yours."
"You're damn right you are."
I slapped her hard on the ass and felt her body shake. I ripped her lace panties down to her knees and easily slipped two fingers inside her. I felt her shake again.
I continued to finger her while teasing her asshole with my thumb. Every now and then I would pull out and play with her clit. I talked dirty to her, relishing in her obedient responses. The same responses I had fantasized about with Maggie just hours before.
Finally I grabbed a condom from a drawer and hastily put it on. I strutted over and gave her a firm slap on the ass to hear her yelp and immediately thrust myself into her. She cried out in pleasure as I pumped deeply into her.
I slowed down my thrusts as I slid my hand down her back, deftly removing her bra with one hand. It slid down her arms and I reached both hands on her sizeable breasts. I played with her nipples while I pushed deep into her, grinding my hips against her ass.
I grabbed at her hair and pulled back, hearing her gasp as I did so. I slapped her on the ass again with my free hand.
"You're a dirty fucking slut, aren't you?"
She called out in pleasure.
"I'm your dirty slut, please fuck me like the whore that I am!"
I pushed her shoulders down and pressed her flat against the bed with her ass hanging over the edge. I dug my nails into her ass and pounded into her as hard as I could with my cock.
"Oh yea, fuck me. Fuck me hard."
I pictured her getting fucked in a bathroom stall by the faceless Tom while still wearing her dress. It made me sick to my stomach but also hard as a rock.
I went for as long as I could then pulled out and came all over her ass. I stepped back and took a look at my masterpiece. She was covered in sweat and cum and lightly shaking on my bed, but not getting up.
She spent the night and we cuddled and were in a relationship again for a single night, but that was it. As soon as she left, all our problems came back and nothing was right again. As soon as I saw her leave, I put her out of my mind. But I couldn't forget the pleasure of her obedience, and that brought my mind back to Maggie.
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