Porn Gorgeous Psycho Bitch Roommate Pt 2
- 2 years ago
- 27
- 0
Porn-Gorgeous Psycho-Bitch Roommate From Hell, Par free porn video
My roommate, Cindee, had gone into one of her moods and was trying to ruin my life, as usual. Even though i sort of hated her, she was sexy as hell, with big, dark, innocent doe eyes, long black hair, and a wide, white smile that curled up in the corners wickedly. She had an hourglass figure and ahletic, toned limbs. But the least little thing would piss her off. Dishes in the sink this time. One glass. One bowl. And one spoon. She needed to get laid (and i think now that she knew i knew). But her boyfriend, Kent, was touring Broadway as an extra in a show that just been at the Chandler Pavilion.
I was pissed off. And distracted. She had been yelling at me wearing this tiny tanktop and her boyfriend's boxers. Every time she waved her arms or pointed, her heavy, perfect breasts swung against the sheer material. The angrier she got, the harder her nipples got and the more they rubbed against the cotton. When she sat down in a huff at the kitchen table, the fly in her boxers separated wide. She looked down right at it but apparently didn't notice because she pulled her legs up under her and sat crosslegged. This opened the fly in her men's boxers as wide as it would go.
I had caught glimpses of her pussy before. She was from Iowa, a good girl, and very demure. Her bathrobe was huge and thick and covered everything. But once or twice i would make her laugh and it would come open a little and i would see that this church-going midwest babe had a perfectly trimmed patch of hair the exact same black color as her hair.
This time, with her sitting at the table and mad as hell at me, i caught more than a glimpse. With her legs spread wide and the boxers split wide, i stared right into her glistening pussy. Her hair was trimmed very short. Her outer lips were swollen pink and shiny in the cheap bright kitchen light. Her inner pussy lips were longer than i had imagined. They parted and curled back, covering her outer lips and opening completely, revealing her inner hole. She was sopping wet. In fact, i now noticed dried trails of pussy juice running down the length of her inner thighs and down both legs. Past her knees.
She had to have been masturbating before our fight. I had heard her on the phone with Kent. Must have been phone sex. Mutual masturbation across 3,000 miles. Her inner thighs were smeared with more fluid than i thought possible. He must be a good talker.
Cindee kept bitching about the dishes and the fridge and the dryer and the carport but i just kept staring at her glistening hole, wide open and totally exposed, perfectly lit up and naked. As i stared, her clit lengthened and swelled, sticking out from under its hood and out into the light. A trickle of milky clear juice spilled out of her, forming a little wet spot on the vinyl cushion.
Now she screamed about the missed phone message from last month. The casting call. I swear she would never let me live that down. I loved watching those full tits swing back and forth under her tank as she waved her hands around. But my eyes kept coming back down to her squishing wide open pussy. It had filled up with juice again and let another trickle loose, spilling down her labia to join the last, filling up that little puddle on the kitchen cushion.
Suddenly it was silent. I looked up and she was just staring at me open mouthed, her face red with rage. She had caught me.
"Are you staring at my coochie? You ass hole!"
I'd never heard it called a coochie before. She reached down and yanked her fly wide open.
"I'm baring my heart to you and all you can think of is this?"
She hooked her fingers inside her pussy, pushing her index and middle fingers all the way in with an obvious squishing sound. She pulled her pussy hole wide, wide open, all the way as far as it would go.
"All i am is a hole to you ass holes!"
She had arched forward in her chair and angled her hips up to give me a better view and this pushed her large breasts down, and her sheer tank scrunched up, exposing the lower halves of those perfect, round melons.
Clear white pussy juice spilled out of her hole, between her fingers, and puddled on the vinyl cushion that she sat on.
I didn't know what to say but words came out anyway. "I'm sorry, Cindee. You are very, very beautiful."
Her rage instantly turned to confusion, then to anguish. She pulled her fingers out of herself and covered her face with her hands, bursting into tears.
"All of you! You're all such..."
I stepped forward by instinct. Reached down and put my arm around her shoulders. She collapsed against me and cried hard. Her chest heaved and her fingers gripped my Van Halen shirt. I smoothed her hair and made comforting sounds and eventually her muscles relaxed and her crying slowed. Her arms were around my hips. Her breasts pressed against my thighs.
I felt her gym-toned, curvy perfect body press against me in all the right ways. Her mussed up hair was perfumed like jasmine. But her fingers were coated in her milky cum juice, which i could now also smell. I could smell little else, in fact. Entrancing, mesmerizing. I had lived wih her for months and fantasized about her frequently. We had each heard the other through the thin walls fucking someone else. And i'd always thought she sort of hated me but here she was pressed against me in a state of extreme sexual readiness and emotional agitation.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm such a bitch, such a fucking cunt." And then she tensed. "Oh, my god! Is that... Are you getting hard?"
My cock was hard. Very hard, in fact. Never had my cock had such a sense of urgency. Cindee was the hottest girl I'd met up until then and my poor, frustrated, abused erection wanted her desperately and wasn't shy about showing it. Half of my cock, in all of it's veiny pink and purple goodness, stuck straight out of my boxers, poking rigidly into the open just beneath her chin.
Cindee shoved me backwards and jumped to her feet. She stared in horror at my cock, which stuck straight up in the air like a spear.
"Ani mal!"
Her too-tight tank top had pulled halfway up her breasts yanked it down to cover her heaving chest. But she only managed to pull the fabric down between her breasts, exposing the undersides even more. And I heard the flimsy cotton tear between her fingers.
"Fucking ani mal!" She shrieked in frustration and bounced past me and out of the kitchen.
Seconds later she shot toward the front door with her purse and car keys, still wearing the same torn, flimsy tank top and gaping boxer shorts. But she had her gym bag, too, so i knew she wouldn't be back until she worked off some of her tensions.
So I found myself walking slowly through the apartment, my cock hard as a rock. I needed to cum immediately.
I turned toward the big glass doors that led out to the balcony and stared across the street at the ten-storey wall of windows facing me.
My dick still stuck out of my boxers, throbbing, tingling. I remembered her staring at it, just below her chin. My cock twitched. I pulled off my shirt and slid open the glass door. I stepped out onto the hot concrete balcony and padded over to the steel guardrail. I looked down over my cockhead at all the cars stopped at the intersection. Fiive, ten, fifteen, twenty... thirty some odd cars all stopped, waiting for the light to change. Across the intersection, even more cars. And pedestrians waiting for the walk sign. I looked at each of the drivers' faces, all staring straight ahead. No one looked up at me. Practically naked, wearing only a little scrap of cloth, my hard erection pointed out between the hot steel railing.
The light changed and i watched the cars depart. From this angle i could see down into their cars, see what they were wearing, how short the women's skirts were. If only someone would look up at me. I looked across the street at all the rows of windows but didnt see anyone watching me from there, either.
I turned back toward the open glass door, hooked my thumbs in my shorts, and slowly pulled them down over my hips, and down my thighs. Bending at the waist, i pulled my shorts down past my knees, exposing my cute, muscular ass. I pulled my shorts off, stepped out of them, and stood naked, pickjng them up as i walked back into the apartment.
I tossed them up onto the ceiling light in the TV room in a passive aggressive attempt to make myself laugh. I'll probably pull those down before Cindee gets home, i thought.
Cindee. Sin. Dee. Mmm. Cindee. What a fucking porn-gorgeous psycho-bitch.
I stopped in the kitchen and looked and knelt beside the kitchen chair she'd been sitting on. In the middle of the pink vinyl was the little puddle of milky pussy juice. I pressed close to it and inhaled deeply.
Musky, tangy, ani mal smell. Liquid pearlescence. I dipped my finger into it. Warm but no longer hot. There was a surprising amount of it. I imagined her body producing all that liquid lubricant and pumping it into her perfect, pink pussy, filling it up in hopeful anticipation of getting fucked, filling it to overflowing, only to be disappointed.
I swirled my finger around in her pussy juice, admiring the thicker strands of white liquid curling through the clear liquid. The smell of her sex juice made me feel lightheaded. I rubbed her juice between my thumb and forefinger. Silky smooth.
I scooped up fingerfuls of her secretions and brought them over to my lips. Her cum hung from my fingers like pearls on delicate strands. I poked my tongue out between my lips and dribbled her pussy juice onto my tongue and my lips and my chin. I slurped up her taste and swirled it around with my tongue.
I scooped up more of her little puddle and trailed her liquid along the length of my hard cock and around the purple head, pushing her juice up into my dick hole with my little finger. I lubricated my cock with Cindee's juice. Part of me felt guilty. After all she was so upset and i was an ass.
I couldn't help myself. I had stared at her like a starving man at his last meal. Who could have pretended not to notice that glistening display of female perfection? Coochie came knocking and my dick stood up to push through the door.
Besides, if she didnt want me to lube my cock with her pussy juice, she shouldnt leave puddles of it lying around.
I didn't use all of it. I left a little of her silky pussy puddle on the kitchen chair for her to discover later when she came home. Maybe such an obvious, powerful, physical reminder would help her see things from my point of view.
I went down the hall past her room and pushed open my door. I went inside and looked around. My art supplies. My guitar. My velvet blacklight poster of dogs playing poker, which Cindee hated.
Ah, there, hanging from my bedpost. My handcuffs. Peerless professional. The key hung on a ring from the same bedpost. I left the key but took the handcuffs and turned toward the bathroom for my baby oil.
No! I would use Cindee's coconut oil! More aroma therapy. I bet i cum like a fountain.
I stepped back into the hall, then tried her doorknob. It was unlocked. Inside her room, posterboard and chalks, her bohemian prints on the walls, and her unicorn collection. I knelt down. Under her bed, in a little pink basket with a heart on it, was the coconut oil.
And a long, thick vibrator. She was such a clean freak, i was surprised at how not clean this thing was. Freshly used, it was glazed like a donut with her sugar cream. A film of clear white pussy juice covered the entire length of the veiny, chrome penis and dripped down the handle all the way to the plug and control knob. This must have been more powerful than a mormal sex toy because the knob went to eleven.
I pulled that electric dildo out of the basket and up to my nose and inhaled deeply. The same, sweet, musky, wanton smell of Cindee's frustrated sexual desire filled my nostrils and tickled my primitive brainstem. Still kneeling, my dick stuck straight up between my nipples. I opened my mouth and pushed that delicious nasty thing between my lips, sucking it in and rolling my tongue along the underside of it, dissolving her secretions with my saliva and lapping them up, swallowing them down. Sin. Dee. Mmmm. I slobbered all over it (she's going to be pissed when she reads this), coiled the cord back up the way she did, and put it back in the basket under the bed.
It was dripping in my saliva. Should i take it out and towel it off for her? But then i remembered she is such a bitch. And besides, she is so anal retentive crazy that she wouldnt have put it away dirty like that unless she liked it dirty. If that is her kink then whatever she was going to do with it later with it covered in her own pussy juices, well she now she can just do it covered with her roommate's saliva instead. Yeah. I smiled.
Kneeling nake in her private space, i had butterflies in my stomach.What if she came home now and saw me like this?
My cock was pumping precum up its length and out the hole, dribbling a thin stream down the long underside and between my balls. I pulled out the vibrator again and ran the dripping, purple head of my hard, hard cock all along the length of her chrome electric fuck toy. I spilled my man juice in silky strings, smearing my sperm along the veiny silver cylinder, swirling it in circles around the tip. I tightened my orgasm muscles and pumped a shining dollop of jism onto the very tip, the part that she shoves the deepest into her hole. It was a totally inappropriate passive aggressive vicarious bit of revenge.
All right, enough fucking around. Time to get serious. I stood up, and my cock banged against her bedpost. Ouch. Kind of a cool sort of pain though. I swung my hips and banged it against the sink again. Ouch. Cool.
I stepped into the hallway carrying my handcuffs and her babyoil. Glancing cautiously at the front door (i should lock that) i wondered what she would do if she caught me right here, right now? A surge of adrenaline stirred the butterflies in my stomach. I want to get caught! I know that about myself. What would happen? I would need to advertise for a new roommate, that's what. But not until she got a good, long, thick look.
A deep tingle tickled me between my legs, where my orgasms start. I stood in middle of our silent apartment like that, soaking in that mix of fear and excitement. But Cindee didn't walk in.
I turned to go but then something caught my eye. In her room, on her easel, one of her posterboards poked out from behind another. It was a drawing of a face. Something about it. I pushed aside the one in front so i could see the one in back. I pushed it further, revealing the drawing.
Cindee had drawn a full-length chalk sketch of a man, nude, seen from the side. His face, which looked just like mine, was turned in such a way that you could see it, but he himself was looking down at his body. His body was thin and muscular with long limbs and good proportions. His hand was veiny and his fingers long and they cupped his balls.
She'd done a good job of capturing the physical tension in the drawing. The nude man squeezed on of his balls between his thumb and forefinger. I held my hand up and hooked my thumb and forefinger into the same position and compared it to the drawing.
Cindee had a cheap full-length mirror screwed onto her closet door and i turned toward it in exactly the same pose as the guy in her drawing. My eyes widened. Identical. She had got every detail right, even the tangle of thick veins at the base of my cock where they disappear into my tangle of pubic hair.
How the hell did she know what i looked like masturbating? How did she know i squeeze my balls just like that?
The background of the drawing showed our balcony railing and the big apartment building across our street. It was almost photorealistic. I liked masturbating on the balcony just like that, nude, hard, squeezing my balls, exactly like she had drawn. Had she seen me? Had i screwed up one day and gone out there to masturbate with her still at home?
I poked around her drawings but didn't see any more like this one. I stared at it for a while, looking back and forth at the mirror. Incredible. Porn-gorgeous psycho-bitch from hell drew a picture of me masturbating. A really good one! Erotic art. With me as the model. It blew my mind.
I seriously needed to cum. My cock was pulsating now, twitching, jerking upwards with every heartbeat. I hesitated as i got to the door, looking over my shoulder at the drawing, finally stepping out into the hallway again.
I had been confused and severely turned on by my nutzo roommate before, but never more than now. But i didn't have all day. I felt like my balls would burst at any moment and Cindee wouldnt be gone for much longer. I would have to hurry up and cum.
I carried my handcuffs and Cindee's baby oil into the kitchen and set them down on the cheap formica table. Handcuffs make the most amazing cock rings, did you know that? I ratcheted one of the handcuffs around the base of my cock and balls, securing it tight. The cold metal bit into my hard flesh, causing my dick to stiffen and lengthen and my swollen balls to pull up tight against it. The other cuff dangled, open, between my thighs.
I poured a little oil down the length of my erection, watching it wet the skin and make the thick veins turn a darker blue. The coconut smell filled my nostrils and wrapped my brain in a veil of tropical fantasy. This was the smell that Cindee always exuded when Kent would visit. They would leave her bedroom and she would kiss him goodbye at the door, and she would spend the rest of the night in one of her happy-smiley moods. Her freshly-fucked moods. Her mussed up jungle-girl-hair moods.
My cock grew bigger in my hand, swelling against the constricting handcuff. I stroked it slow and hard, squeezing the full length as tightly as i could, from veiny base to throbbing head. Another pearl of precum squeezed out of the tip as i pulled my hand toward my cockhead. Then, as i pushed my tight hand back down toward the base of my shaft disappeared back down inside my urethra. Over and over i pumped myself, fanning the flames of my own sexual frustration.
I looked back down at the little puddle of pussy juice she had left on the chair. The vinyl pillow was slightly dome-shaped so her juice had spilled slowly downhill in all four directions from the center. It was such a turn on. I knelt again and smelled it, inhaling her scent deeply. Ah, that musky smell!
I know i was going to leave it there for her but ... I stuck out my tongue and licked up her juices from the vinyl cushion. I savored her on my tongue. I didn't swallow. Instead, i worked her juice around my mouth with my tongue.
I stood and the handcuffs clanked against the chair. Her pussy juice was now smeared across the cushion and there were obvious tongue marks where i had licked. I left it that way for her to find. I dont really know what i was thinking at this point. I just wanted to cum.
I stepped quickly through the hallway, worrying about the time. How long had she been gone? Would she do a full workout? I pulled open the big glass door, and stepped out into the blazing sun. I stepped out onto the balcony wearing nothing but coconut oil, a pair of handcuffs dangling from my cock and balls, and a wide grin. I closed the glass door behind me, making sure it wasn't going to lock me out there, naked. That would be embarrassing.
I was nervous. I could see into every window on the big apartment building across the street, and i saw no one looking back at me. But i was really exposed. The sun at that time of day angled down directly on me like a spotlight on a stage. And all those windows across the street were now hidden in shadows, making it impossible to see anyone through the glass.
That was exactly what i wanted. I had to cum fast and the best way was to really push the envelop. The fear filled me with nervous energy, making my cock strain against the handcuff. I reached down and squeezed it even tighter, forcing the ratchet mechanism to make one more click. I turned and looked at my reflection in the open glass door. Tall and thin and muscular with a long, thick, hard cock, I looked exactly like Cindee's secret drawing.
The idea of me jerking off outdoors excited me, obviously, but the idea that she had seen me really got me going this time. I posed like i had looked in the drawing.
That she had watched me, secretly, without ever saying anything afterwards, and that she had watched me long enough to memorize the details of my body, so that she could later draw me masturbating (accurately!) ... or maybe she took pictures! What if she posted pictures of me on the internet!? Or videos!?
My cock jumped at the thought. My balls pulled so tight against the handcuff that they were turning, not quiet blue, but definitely purple. I masturbated to my reflection in the glass and scanned the windows behind. Must be a hundred windows. Ten stories times ten windows from left to right. The odds of me not being seen got slimmer each second that ticked by.
The excitement was almost a panic. It always made my orgasms so much better. I turned slowly, showing off my naked body so anyone watching could get a good view from every angle. I was absolutely, totally exposed. But i made myself walk to the railing. I stepped forward and pushed my hip bones against the railing. My cock stuck out all the way, between the hot steel rails and out into open space. I looked down and saw my cock's shadow clearly on the sidewalk only one storey below.
The one open handcuff dangled between my thighs. It clanked loudly against the guardrail.
Forcing myself to the very edge like this, metaphorically and physically, was a form of mental discipline i used to counter my severe shyness. I credited it with my recent success in dating. At least that's what i told myself. Maybe i was just a perverted sex-addict craving approval from strangers for forbidden acts, but who was willing to settle for some cheap thrills and a good, solid, over-the-top, eleven-squirts-in-a-row orgasm.
Whatever. I knew what had to happen next. I reached down to the open handcuff and before i could stop myself or have second thoughts or even first houghts, i closed it around the middle bar. It latched tight with that iconic sound of ratchet teeth. It made a jangling sound against the railing as if they were the steel bars of a jail.
The sound was appropriate. Because what i was doing now was going way further than i ever had before. I would very likely end up in an LAPD black-and-white. I realized this too late. I was trapped. On display.
The other handcuff was locked so perfectly and tightly around my cock and balls that i absolutely could not pull myself free without literally crushing my big, purple, veiny balls. I would only be able to escape the spotlight after i became flaccid. And i could only become flaccid one way. But cumming. Hard. And hopefully soon.
To get the maximum orgasm possible, i had virtually guaranteed that i would be seen and soon and probably by more than one person. As the traffic light changed, a dozen cars pulled to a stop in the street only twenty feet below my throbbing, dripping cock.
My instinct was to hide or at least turn my back. But i couldn't even squat down because the handcuffs were locked to the top railing. I had really fucked myself this time. And just so that i could cum. And now i really, literally was going to have to fuck myself, and cum, in order to get out of this.
My eyes darted all around. All those cars in the street. All those windows in the building. Pedestrians walking below me and across the street from me. Anyone of them could already have seen me and just be pretending not to notice. Someone might already have snapped pictures of me with my hard cock sticking up into the bright blue sky above them.
I was overcome with a panic and I wanted to hide so badly. But i surmounted the fear. And instead, i turned my will and i forced myself to stand up tall and proud and hard. My thighs tensed and my abs tightened so that i would look good for my audience. I stood with my feet shoulder-width apart, and i squared my shoulders, and i reached down with both hands.
There was only one way out of this. I had seen to that. And that way was straight through. Besides, i didn't want to be stuck out here like this when Cindee came home.
And that's when i heard the front door slam and Cindee's keys jangling.
"Fuck face!" Cindee screamed. I froze.
I had milliseconds until she appeared on behind the glass door. But i had nothing that i could do and i had nowhere to run. The handcuff keys were hanging in my bedroom. There was no chance that i could pull free. In fact, my cock was as hard as ever. Harder, even. My balls were purple. The veins were dark, wine colored.
My breath caught as Cindee appeared behind the glass door. She flung her gym bag and keys into her bedroom and marched straight past me into the kitchen.
"Ass hole!" She called out.
She pushed open my bedroom door and went in.
"Are you jerking off in here, faggot?"
Faggot?
I turned around as far as i could to see over my shoulder into our apartment. I watched her quickly move from room to room, searching for me. She passed the glass door twice, once in each direction. Why wouldn't my cock soften with fear and let me go? I could say i was just sunning myself. She didn't have to see the handcuffs!
I looked up. She stood stock still behind the glass, staring directly at my cock, which was shiny with oil and hard as hell in the blazing light. Her jaw dropped.
I was pissed off. And distracted. She had been yelling at me wearing this tiny tanktop and her boyfriend's boxers. Every time she waved her arms or pointed, her heavy, perfect breasts swung against the sheer material. The angrier she got, the harder her nipples got and the more they rubbed against the cotton. When she sat down in a huff at the kitchen table, the fly in her boxers separated wide. She looked down right at it but apparently didn't notice because she pulled her legs up under her and sat crosslegged. This opened the fly in her men's boxers as wide as it would go.
I had caught glimpses of her pussy before. She was from Iowa, a good girl, and very demure. Her bathrobe was huge and thick and covered everything. But once or twice i would make her laugh and it would come open a little and i would see that this church-going midwest babe had a perfectly trimmed patch of hair the exact same black color as her hair.
This time, with her sitting at the table and mad as hell at me, i caught more than a glimpse. With her legs spread wide and the boxers split wide, i stared right into her glistening pussy. Her hair was trimmed very short. Her outer lips were swollen pink and shiny in the cheap bright kitchen light. Her inner pussy lips were longer than i had imagined. They parted and curled back, covering her outer lips and opening completely, revealing her inner hole. She was sopping wet. In fact, i now noticed dried trails of pussy juice running down the length of her inner thighs and down both legs. Past her knees.
She had to have been masturbating before our fight. I had heard her on the phone with Kent. Must have been phone sex. Mutual masturbation across 3,000 miles. Her inner thighs were smeared with more fluid than i thought possible. He must be a good talker.
Cindee kept bitching about the dishes and the fridge and the dryer and the carport but i just kept staring at her glistening hole, wide open and totally exposed, perfectly lit up and naked. As i stared, her clit lengthened and swelled, sticking out from under its hood and out into the light. A trickle of milky clear juice spilled out of her, forming a little wet spot on the vinyl cushion.
Now she screamed about the missed phone message from last month. The casting call. I swear she would never let me live that down. I loved watching those full tits swing back and forth under her tank as she waved her hands around. But my eyes kept coming back down to her squishing wide open pussy. It had filled up with juice again and let another trickle loose, spilling down her labia to join the last, filling up that little puddle on the kitchen cushion.
Suddenly it was silent. I looked up and she was just staring at me open mouthed, her face red with rage. She had caught me.
"Are you staring at my coochie? You ass hole!"
I'd never heard it called a coochie before. She reached down and yanked her fly wide open.
"I'm baring my heart to you and all you can think of is this?"
She hooked her fingers inside her pussy, pushing her index and middle fingers all the way in with an obvious squishing sound. She pulled her pussy hole wide, wide open, all the way as far as it would go.
"All i am is a hole to you ass holes!"
She had arched forward in her chair and angled her hips up to give me a better view and this pushed her large breasts down, and her sheer tank scrunched up, exposing the lower halves of those perfect, round melons.
Clear white pussy juice spilled out of her hole, between her fingers, and puddled on the vinyl cushion that she sat on.
I didn't know what to say but words came out anyway. "I'm sorry, Cindee. You are very, very beautiful."
Her rage instantly turned to confusion, then to anguish. She pulled her fingers out of herself and covered her face with her hands, bursting into tears.
"All of you! You're all such..."
I stepped forward by instinct. Reached down and put my arm around her shoulders. She collapsed against me and cried hard. Her chest heaved and her fingers gripped my Van Halen shirt. I smoothed her hair and made comforting sounds and eventually her muscles relaxed and her crying slowed. Her arms were around my hips. Her breasts pressed against my thighs.
I felt her gym-toned, curvy perfect body press against me in all the right ways. Her mussed up hair was perfumed like jasmine. But her fingers were coated in her milky cum juice, which i could now also smell. I could smell little else, in fact. Entrancing, mesmerizing. I had lived wih her for months and fantasized about her frequently. We had each heard the other through the thin walls fucking someone else. And i'd always thought she sort of hated me but here she was pressed against me in a state of extreme sexual readiness and emotional agitation.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm such a bitch, such a fucking cunt." And then she tensed. "Oh, my god! Is that... Are you getting hard?"
My cock was hard. Very hard, in fact. Never had my cock had such a sense of urgency. Cindee was the hottest girl I'd met up until then and my poor, frustrated, abused erection wanted her desperately and wasn't shy about showing it. Half of my cock, in all of it's veiny pink and purple goodness, stuck straight out of my boxers, poking rigidly into the open just beneath her chin.
Cindee shoved me backwards and jumped to her feet. She stared in horror at my cock, which stuck straight up in the air like a spear.
"Ani mal!"
Her too-tight tank top had pulled halfway up her breasts yanked it down to cover her heaving chest. But she only managed to pull the fabric down between her breasts, exposing the undersides even more. And I heard the flimsy cotton tear between her fingers.
"Fucking ani mal!" She shrieked in frustration and bounced past me and out of the kitchen.
Seconds later she shot toward the front door with her purse and car keys, still wearing the same torn, flimsy tank top and gaping boxer shorts. But she had her gym bag, too, so i knew she wouldn't be back until she worked off some of her tensions.
So I found myself walking slowly through the apartment, my cock hard as a rock. I needed to cum immediately.
I turned toward the big glass doors that led out to the balcony and stared across the street at the ten-storey wall of windows facing me.
My dick still stuck out of my boxers, throbbing, tingling. I remembered her staring at it, just below her chin. My cock twitched. I pulled off my shirt and slid open the glass door. I stepped out onto the hot concrete balcony and padded over to the steel guardrail. I looked down over my cockhead at all the cars stopped at the intersection. Fiive, ten, fifteen, twenty... thirty some odd cars all stopped, waiting for the light to change. Across the intersection, even more cars. And pedestrians waiting for the walk sign. I looked at each of the drivers' faces, all staring straight ahead. No one looked up at me. Practically naked, wearing only a little scrap of cloth, my hard erection pointed out between the hot steel railing.
The light changed and i watched the cars depart. From this angle i could see down into their cars, see what they were wearing, how short the women's skirts were. If only someone would look up at me. I looked across the street at all the rows of windows but didnt see anyone watching me from there, either.
I turned back toward the open glass door, hooked my thumbs in my shorts, and slowly pulled them down over my hips, and down my thighs. Bending at the waist, i pulled my shorts down past my knees, exposing my cute, muscular ass. I pulled my shorts off, stepped out of them, and stood naked, pickjng them up as i walked back into the apartment.
I tossed them up onto the ceiling light in the TV room in a passive aggressive attempt to make myself laugh. I'll probably pull those down before Cindee gets home, i thought.
Cindee. Sin. Dee. Mmm. Cindee. What a fucking porn-gorgeous psycho-bitch.
I stopped in the kitchen and looked and knelt beside the kitchen chair she'd been sitting on. In the middle of the pink vinyl was the little puddle of milky pussy juice. I pressed close to it and inhaled deeply.
Musky, tangy, ani mal smell. Liquid pearlescence. I dipped my finger into it. Warm but no longer hot. There was a surprising amount of it. I imagined her body producing all that liquid lubricant and pumping it into her perfect, pink pussy, filling it up in hopeful anticipation of getting fucked, filling it to overflowing, only to be disappointed.
I swirled my finger around in her pussy juice, admiring the thicker strands of white liquid curling through the clear liquid. The smell of her sex juice made me feel lightheaded. I rubbed her juice between my thumb and forefinger. Silky smooth.
I scooped up fingerfuls of her secretions and brought them over to my lips. Her cum hung from my fingers like pearls on delicate strands. I poked my tongue out between my lips and dribbled her pussy juice onto my tongue and my lips and my chin. I slurped up her taste and swirled it around with my tongue.
I scooped up more of her little puddle and trailed her liquid along the length of my hard cock and around the purple head, pushing her juice up into my dick hole with my little finger. I lubricated my cock with Cindee's juice. Part of me felt guilty. After all she was so upset and i was an ass.
I couldn't help myself. I had stared at her like a starving man at his last meal. Who could have pretended not to notice that glistening display of female perfection? Coochie came knocking and my dick stood up to push through the door.
Besides, if she didnt want me to lube my cock with her pussy juice, she shouldnt leave puddles of it lying around.
I didn't use all of it. I left a little of her silky pussy puddle on the kitchen chair for her to discover later when she came home. Maybe such an obvious, powerful, physical reminder would help her see things from my point of view.
I went down the hall past her room and pushed open my door. I went inside and looked around. My art supplies. My guitar. My velvet blacklight poster of dogs playing poker, which Cindee hated.
Ah, there, hanging from my bedpost. My handcuffs. Peerless professional. The key hung on a ring from the same bedpost. I left the key but took the handcuffs and turned toward the bathroom for my baby oil.
No! I would use Cindee's coconut oil! More aroma therapy. I bet i cum like a fountain.
I stepped back into the hall, then tried her doorknob. It was unlocked. Inside her room, posterboard and chalks, her bohemian prints on the walls, and her unicorn collection. I knelt down. Under her bed, in a little pink basket with a heart on it, was the coconut oil.
And a long, thick vibrator. She was such a clean freak, i was surprised at how not clean this thing was. Freshly used, it was glazed like a donut with her sugar cream. A film of clear white pussy juice covered the entire length of the veiny, chrome penis and dripped down the handle all the way to the plug and control knob. This must have been more powerful than a mormal sex toy because the knob went to eleven.
I pulled that electric dildo out of the basket and up to my nose and inhaled deeply. The same, sweet, musky, wanton smell of Cindee's frustrated sexual desire filled my nostrils and tickled my primitive brainstem. Still kneeling, my dick stuck straight up between my nipples. I opened my mouth and pushed that delicious nasty thing between my lips, sucking it in and rolling my tongue along the underside of it, dissolving her secretions with my saliva and lapping them up, swallowing them down. Sin. Dee. Mmmm. I slobbered all over it (she's going to be pissed when she reads this), coiled the cord back up the way she did, and put it back in the basket under the bed.
It was dripping in my saliva. Should i take it out and towel it off for her? But then i remembered she is such a bitch. And besides, she is so anal retentive crazy that she wouldnt have put it away dirty like that unless she liked it dirty. If that is her kink then whatever she was going to do with it later with it covered in her own pussy juices, well she now she can just do it covered with her roommate's saliva instead. Yeah. I smiled.
Kneeling nake in her private space, i had butterflies in my stomach.What if she came home now and saw me like this?
My cock was pumping precum up its length and out the hole, dribbling a thin stream down the long underside and between my balls. I pulled out the vibrator again and ran the dripping, purple head of my hard, hard cock all along the length of her chrome electric fuck toy. I spilled my man juice in silky strings, smearing my sperm along the veiny silver cylinder, swirling it in circles around the tip. I tightened my orgasm muscles and pumped a shining dollop of jism onto the very tip, the part that she shoves the deepest into her hole. It was a totally inappropriate passive aggressive vicarious bit of revenge.
All right, enough fucking around. Time to get serious. I stood up, and my cock banged against her bedpost. Ouch. Kind of a cool sort of pain though. I swung my hips and banged it against the sink again. Ouch. Cool.
I stepped into the hallway carrying my handcuffs and her babyoil. Glancing cautiously at the front door (i should lock that) i wondered what she would do if she caught me right here, right now? A surge of adrenaline stirred the butterflies in my stomach. I want to get caught! I know that about myself. What would happen? I would need to advertise for a new roommate, that's what. But not until she got a good, long, thick look.
A deep tingle tickled me between my legs, where my orgasms start. I stood in middle of our silent apartment like that, soaking in that mix of fear and excitement. But Cindee didn't walk in.
I turned to go but then something caught my eye. In her room, on her easel, one of her posterboards poked out from behind another. It was a drawing of a face. Something about it. I pushed aside the one in front so i could see the one in back. I pushed it further, revealing the drawing.
Cindee had drawn a full-length chalk sketch of a man, nude, seen from the side. His face, which looked just like mine, was turned in such a way that you could see it, but he himself was looking down at his body. His body was thin and muscular with long limbs and good proportions. His hand was veiny and his fingers long and they cupped his balls.
She'd done a good job of capturing the physical tension in the drawing. The nude man squeezed on of his balls between his thumb and forefinger. I held my hand up and hooked my thumb and forefinger into the same position and compared it to the drawing.
Cindee had a cheap full-length mirror screwed onto her closet door and i turned toward it in exactly the same pose as the guy in her drawing. My eyes widened. Identical. She had got every detail right, even the tangle of thick veins at the base of my cock where they disappear into my tangle of pubic hair.
How the hell did she know what i looked like masturbating? How did she know i squeeze my balls just like that?
The background of the drawing showed our balcony railing and the big apartment building across our street. It was almost photorealistic. I liked masturbating on the balcony just like that, nude, hard, squeezing my balls, exactly like she had drawn. Had she seen me? Had i screwed up one day and gone out there to masturbate with her still at home?
I poked around her drawings but didn't see any more like this one. I stared at it for a while, looking back and forth at the mirror. Incredible. Porn-gorgeous psycho-bitch from hell drew a picture of me masturbating. A really good one! Erotic art. With me as the model. It blew my mind.
I seriously needed to cum. My cock was pulsating now, twitching, jerking upwards with every heartbeat. I hesitated as i got to the door, looking over my shoulder at the drawing, finally stepping out into the hallway again.
I had been confused and severely turned on by my nutzo roommate before, but never more than now. But i didn't have all day. I felt like my balls would burst at any moment and Cindee wouldnt be gone for much longer. I would have to hurry up and cum.
I carried my handcuffs and Cindee's baby oil into the kitchen and set them down on the cheap formica table. Handcuffs make the most amazing cock rings, did you know that? I ratcheted one of the handcuffs around the base of my cock and balls, securing it tight. The cold metal bit into my hard flesh, causing my dick to stiffen and lengthen and my swollen balls to pull up tight against it. The other cuff dangled, open, between my thighs.
I poured a little oil down the length of my erection, watching it wet the skin and make the thick veins turn a darker blue. The coconut smell filled my nostrils and wrapped my brain in a veil of tropical fantasy. This was the smell that Cindee always exuded when Kent would visit. They would leave her bedroom and she would kiss him goodbye at the door, and she would spend the rest of the night in one of her happy-smiley moods. Her freshly-fucked moods. Her mussed up jungle-girl-hair moods.
My cock grew bigger in my hand, swelling against the constricting handcuff. I stroked it slow and hard, squeezing the full length as tightly as i could, from veiny base to throbbing head. Another pearl of precum squeezed out of the tip as i pulled my hand toward my cockhead. Then, as i pushed my tight hand back down toward the base of my shaft disappeared back down inside my urethra. Over and over i pumped myself, fanning the flames of my own sexual frustration.
I looked back down at the little puddle of pussy juice she had left on the chair. The vinyl pillow was slightly dome-shaped so her juice had spilled slowly downhill in all four directions from the center. It was such a turn on. I knelt again and smelled it, inhaling her scent deeply. Ah, that musky smell!
I know i was going to leave it there for her but ... I stuck out my tongue and licked up her juices from the vinyl cushion. I savored her on my tongue. I didn't swallow. Instead, i worked her juice around my mouth with my tongue.
I stood and the handcuffs clanked against the chair. Her pussy juice was now smeared across the cushion and there were obvious tongue marks where i had licked. I left it that way for her to find. I dont really know what i was thinking at this point. I just wanted to cum.
I stepped quickly through the hallway, worrying about the time. How long had she been gone? Would she do a full workout? I pulled open the big glass door, and stepped out into the blazing sun. I stepped out onto the balcony wearing nothing but coconut oil, a pair of handcuffs dangling from my cock and balls, and a wide grin. I closed the glass door behind me, making sure it wasn't going to lock me out there, naked. That would be embarrassing.
I was nervous. I could see into every window on the big apartment building across the street, and i saw no one looking back at me. But i was really exposed. The sun at that time of day angled down directly on me like a spotlight on a stage. And all those windows across the street were now hidden in shadows, making it impossible to see anyone through the glass.
That was exactly what i wanted. I had to cum fast and the best way was to really push the envelop. The fear filled me with nervous energy, making my cock strain against the handcuff. I reached down and squeezed it even tighter, forcing the ratchet mechanism to make one more click. I turned and looked at my reflection in the open glass door. Tall and thin and muscular with a long, thick, hard cock, I looked exactly like Cindee's secret drawing.
The idea of me jerking off outdoors excited me, obviously, but the idea that she had seen me really got me going this time. I posed like i had looked in the drawing.
That she had watched me, secretly, without ever saying anything afterwards, and that she had watched me long enough to memorize the details of my body, so that she could later draw me masturbating (accurately!) ... or maybe she took pictures! What if she posted pictures of me on the internet!? Or videos!?
My cock jumped at the thought. My balls pulled so tight against the handcuff that they were turning, not quiet blue, but definitely purple. I masturbated to my reflection in the glass and scanned the windows behind. Must be a hundred windows. Ten stories times ten windows from left to right. The odds of me not being seen got slimmer each second that ticked by.
The excitement was almost a panic. It always made my orgasms so much better. I turned slowly, showing off my naked body so anyone watching could get a good view from every angle. I was absolutely, totally exposed. But i made myself walk to the railing. I stepped forward and pushed my hip bones against the railing. My cock stuck out all the way, between the hot steel rails and out into open space. I looked down and saw my cock's shadow clearly on the sidewalk only one storey below.
The one open handcuff dangled between my thighs. It clanked loudly against the guardrail.
Forcing myself to the very edge like this, metaphorically and physically, was a form of mental discipline i used to counter my severe shyness. I credited it with my recent success in dating. At least that's what i told myself. Maybe i was just a perverted sex-addict craving approval from strangers for forbidden acts, but who was willing to settle for some cheap thrills and a good, solid, over-the-top, eleven-squirts-in-a-row orgasm.
Whatever. I knew what had to happen next. I reached down to the open handcuff and before i could stop myself or have second thoughts or even first houghts, i closed it around the middle bar. It latched tight with that iconic sound of ratchet teeth. It made a jangling sound against the railing as if they were the steel bars of a jail.
The sound was appropriate. Because what i was doing now was going way further than i ever had before. I would very likely end up in an LAPD black-and-white. I realized this too late. I was trapped. On display.
The other handcuff was locked so perfectly and tightly around my cock and balls that i absolutely could not pull myself free without literally crushing my big, purple, veiny balls. I would only be able to escape the spotlight after i became flaccid. And i could only become flaccid one way. But cumming. Hard. And hopefully soon.
To get the maximum orgasm possible, i had virtually guaranteed that i would be seen and soon and probably by more than one person. As the traffic light changed, a dozen cars pulled to a stop in the street only twenty feet below my throbbing, dripping cock.
My instinct was to hide or at least turn my back. But i couldn't even squat down because the handcuffs were locked to the top railing. I had really fucked myself this time. And just so that i could cum. And now i really, literally was going to have to fuck myself, and cum, in order to get out of this.
My eyes darted all around. All those cars in the street. All those windows in the building. Pedestrians walking below me and across the street from me. Anyone of them could already have seen me and just be pretending not to notice. Someone might already have snapped pictures of me with my hard cock sticking up into the bright blue sky above them.
I was overcome with a panic and I wanted to hide so badly. But i surmounted the fear. And instead, i turned my will and i forced myself to stand up tall and proud and hard. My thighs tensed and my abs tightened so that i would look good for my audience. I stood with my feet shoulder-width apart, and i squared my shoulders, and i reached down with both hands.
There was only one way out of this. I had seen to that. And that way was straight through. Besides, i didn't want to be stuck out here like this when Cindee came home.
And that's when i heard the front door slam and Cindee's keys jangling.
"Fuck face!" Cindee screamed. I froze.
I had milliseconds until she appeared on behind the glass door. But i had nothing that i could do and i had nowhere to run. The handcuff keys were hanging in my bedroom. There was no chance that i could pull free. In fact, my cock was as hard as ever. Harder, even. My balls were purple. The veins were dark, wine colored.
My breath caught as Cindee appeared behind the glass door. She flung her gym bag and keys into her bedroom and marched straight past me into the kitchen.
"Ass hole!" She called out.
She pushed open my bedroom door and went in.
"Are you jerking off in here, faggot?"
Faggot?
I turned around as far as i could to see over my shoulder into our apartment. I watched her quickly move from room to room, searching for me. She passed the glass door twice, once in each direction. Why wouldn't my cock soften with fear and let me go? I could say i was just sunning myself. She didn't have to see the handcuffs!
I looked up. She stood stock still behind the glass, staring directly at my cock, which was shiny with oil and hard as hell in the blazing light. Her jaw dropped.
Jeannie
- 22.09.2022
- 22
- 0
Porn Gorgeous Psycho Bitch Roommate Pt 5
- 3 years ago
- 26
- 0
Porn Gorgeous Psycho Bitch Rommate Pt 3
- 1 year ago
- 27
- 0
