Roommates Chapter 4 I m not gay
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Roommates, Chapter 2, "Second Hand Rose" free porn video
Doug and Emily lolled, naked, on her futon during the half time of the football game, resting from their sexual exertions the night before, that morning, and earlier in the afternoon. His cell phone rang.
“Hi, dear,” he said. A pause.
“Yeah, I’m free. I’ll be right over.” He hung up the phone.
“Sorry, I have to go," Doug said to Emily. "My girlfriend is back in town.” With that he got up, put on his pants, leaned over, kissed her cheek, patted her left breast, and said, “I loved it. We’ll talk later.” And he was gone.
She lay there, speechless, her legs still parted in anticipation, her mouth open in surprise. She had laid here and fantasized about a future in which he was her devoted lover, her companion, hers! It took a while to get her mind around the contrary. He wasn’t hers. She had only been entertainment for a night and morning while his girl friend wasn’t around. She was sad and angry, angry at him, but mostly angry at herself. "I deluded myself," she thought, "What a dimwit I was -- to have imagined that sex with him meant anything."
She reset her mind. It was a one-night stand. That's all -- but she didn't behave well those first few days after Doug and she had sex. She feigned bored indifference when he kissed her on the cheek and patted her rear. But she wanted him. Again. Her anger came out when Jason, their other roommate, left a dirty plate and glass on the stairs. “What is this!” she shouted. “What am I? The house maid?”
“Sorry,” he said humbly. Jason was too sensitive for his own good, a pleasant young man who seemed not to have a mean bone in his body. A quiet bookworm, he treasured the harmony the three of them enjoyed in their shared townhouse.
Emily dissolved into tears. She hugged Jason. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bitch.”
“Hey, let’s have a beer and talk about it.”
They walked to the sidewalk café down the street, sat at a table, and Jason ordered two beers. She didn’t dilly dally around. "I fucked Doug and now he's gone back to his girl friend. I feel used."
"Did you enjoy it?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, way, way too much. It was the best sex I've ever had in my miserable life." She was feeling sorry for myself.
"Doug likes you, Both of us really like you." Jason said. "But Doug loves his girlfriend. He can't break up with her now -- or maybe ever."
"I just wish I didn't take sex so seriously." The talk with Jason has helping her get her emotions out on the table.
"It was a beautiful experience for him, as well as you. You're a sweetheart, Emily. And emotionally vulnerable, it seems."
She was a little angry at that. "I'm not vulnerable. I'm a Ph.D in physics. I'm 28 years old. I know what makes the world go round." That sounded so absurd that she laughed in spite of myself.
"Then enjoy what the world offers, sweetie, nothing is perfect." He sang the line from the Rolling Stones tune, "You can't always get what you want." She joined him on the next line, "but if you try you just might get what you need.” Jason could sing. She liked to sing.
She laughed again. She felt better and changed the subject from her misery to him. "What about you and your girl?"
"It's complicated and conflicted, just like your love life. We've been going together since college. She's the only girl friend I've ever had."
"You're kidding me. You mean the only one…sex?"
"Yes, the only one….sex."
She laughed. "Compared to you I am a woman of the world!"
"Come on," he said, "Let's go home. We've got to work tomorrow. I hope you feel better."
As they walked down the street toward their townhouse, he commented further. "Look on Doug as an almost married men. Have you ever had sex with a married man?"
"Once. It lasted two minutes and I never saw him again," she laughed.
"Doug is better than that -- but he's in a committed relationship, like a marriage. You can only have him part time."
"Thanks for the insight. " she said, as he unlocked the door of their townhouse.
They walked up the stairs together, holding hands. She kissed him in front of his room on the second level, turned and began to walk up the stairs to her loft on the third level. “Em,” he said.
She stopped. "Yes."
"You’re beautiful and very sexy. Please don’t be sad. Doug and I love you as our roommate.”
"I love you too. Both of you. I’m just trying to get my head around this situation.” She continued up to her room.
She relaxed after her talk with Jason. Doug and she had spent a playful, enjoyable night together. So be it. She wasn't going to be a clingy, dependent female. Doug, doubtless primed by Jason, sought her out the next night and they joked and laughed together on the sofa. But when he said goodnight, kissed her, and said, “I loved our night together, Emily,” she almost collapsed into tears.
Time healed the wound and the bittersweet memory of her night with Doug faded and once again they were just roommates.
Emily took up self-improvement projects. She quit eating biscotti with her cappuccino during her walk to work every morning and she walked more briskly. She ate carrot and celery sticks with diet ranch sauce for lunch. She did bending and stretching exercises before she went to bed. In a couple of months, she achieved her goal of ten pounds lost. That put her at 140 pounds, fine for her height of five feet eight inches with big bones, 36-D breasts, and ample hips.
Jason came home one evening while she was in the kitchen eating dinner alone. He opened the refrigerator, took out a beer, and say down beside her at the table. “My girl friend is cheating on me.”
“How do you know?”
“She told me. She said she wants to have some experiences before she settles down with me. She’s met another man,” he added. “She’s had sex with him.” Jason was stricken with grief.
“Poor, Jason.” She gave him a hug. He was sweet, thoughtful and nice – the very things that would inspire some women to cheat on him.
She went to bed with Jason that night.
*
Jason became hers. All hers. Too much hers. Devastated by the desertion of his girl friend of six years and enamored of his sudden access to a fresh woman he became a needy, dependent, sex machine. He wanted sex, and he wanted it all the time. For the first few days she was flattered. She had never had a man whose desires for her were so consuming and insatiable. Emily, nerd since birth, felt like a sex goddess.
She didn't hide her romance with Jason from Doug. A few days after their first night together, Jason and she were in the hot tub together, she sitting on his lap enjoying the feel of him inside her, pumping up and down gently, working her way toward a climax. Suddenly, Doug opened the door and stepped out on the deck. “Oh, excuse me.” he said, turning around to leave.
Jason shrunk down in the tub, but Emily, cool as a cucumber, turned her head around to face Doug, her large, wet, slippery breasts exposed, and said with a giggle, “No problem."
“I was just going to say hello. But it looks like you two are busy," Doug said with a smirk. "I'll see you later."
“Ciao.’ She gave him a wave and squeaked in ecstasy as she brought her hips down hard on Jason and his penis penetrated deeper into her.
She felt both gratification and sadness as Doug went away. She pushed the thought out of her mind that she wished it were he.
Her relationship with Jason was pleasant, but too intense. She liked him, She liked having sex regularly. She wanted the relationship to continue, but she needed to dial it down a notch. Jason was a charming, immature boy. He had to be discouraged, but not dismissed.
She cut him off on weeknights. She laughed and joked about his permanent erection and his marathon performances in bed, but after a week of kidding around, she got to the point. “It’s got to be quick tonight,” she said. “I have a big project and I have to get up early and work.” She took his penis in her mouth and sucked it briefly, then climbed on and rode him hard, her breasts flopping in his face. "Come in me, come in me," she exhorted him and he did. And she did. And she climbed off and said, “Shoo, now. I’ve got to go to sleep.”
He was surprised at be being dismissed, but he dutifully retired to his own room. After that, she found excuses to fend him off most weeknights. Their sex was mostly on the weekends.
Then there was Doug. Her expectations had cooled but she still wanted him, often fantasizing that it was him in bed with her rather than Jason. Doug and she had become comfortable with each other just as friends, but with a bit of sexual tension between them. Or maybe a lot.
Doug came up to her loft one night to watch television. Jason was out of the house. They shared a bottle of wine and had a good time chatting until Doug, suddenly, planted a wet kiss on her lips. “Oh,” she said, pulling away about one millimeter. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, I shouldn’t. But I’ve wanted you ever since that night—“
“That night you fucked me, but you had to leave the next day when your girl friend called you. I remember it well.”
“That was a bad scene. I’m sorry about that.” He nuzzled her neck with his nose.
“So, now, you’re lonely and horny. Three months later.”
“Yeah.” He was licking her neck now. She should have pulled away.
“Well, we can't fuck now,” she said definitively. “Jason may be home any minute.”
“But you want to?”
“I didn’t say that.” His tongue was in her ear. “Besides, I’m on the rag.”
"That doesn’t bother me, if it doesn’t bother you.”
“No way. I don’t want to get blood on my futon.”
“I’ll get a towel.” His hand was on her breast and they were cuddled up, still sitting, his lips moving up and down her face.
“No!” she said. “Not a chance.” But she was laughing.
“Oh, God, I want you Emily.”
“More than you want your girl friend?”
“Right now I want you more than any woman in the world.” He thrust his crotch against her and she could feel him hard beneath the fabric in his blue jeans.
“You are full of it,” she said.
“Yes,” he agreed, “and you would enjoy it. As you did the first time.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.
“You didn’t fake those orgasms. How many were there? Three, four?”
“Five. I’m a fucking mathematician. I counted.”
“You were awesome. It was memorable. We belong together. If you get my meaning.”
“Your meaning is rubbing against my leg.” It was. Out of his blue jeans. “Don’t you dare cum on my clothes. Or my futon.”
“Take your clothes off.”
“No!” He had his hand under her dress now, massaging her clitoris through her panties. “Honestly, Doug. I can’t have sex with you. It would hurt Jason and I would feel bad.”
“Jason still loves that worthless girl friend of his and I’m getting awfully hot.”
It hurt a little that she was only a substitute for Jason's girl friend. And a substitute for Doug's girl friend, she very much wanted to resume a closer relationship with Doug. She laid him back on the futon, took his penis in her hand, and lowered her head to it. “I can't do this without telling Jason. That would be cheating. Is that okay with you?"
“Yes. Jason will survive.”
“And I won't fuck you. That would be going too far. Just a blow job. And only once.” A quick blow job, she thought, and then she would send him to his room. "I'll tell Jason tomorrow that Doug and I had a -- what will I call it? -- a romantic encounter," she thought to herself.
She was sucking on Doug's pens when they heard the front door open. “Em!” It was Jason, shouting up the stairs. “Are you here?”
She pulled her mouth away from Jason’s penis, but with her hand still wrapped around it. “I’m up here, Jason. Doug and I are…uh...watching television.” Doug was hunching hard, his penis running through her clenched hand where her mouth had been.
“I'm going to come. Now!" Jason pleaded, his body contorted as he tried to resist the climax.
"I can't let him to come all over my futon or me," thought Emily in a rush. She lowered her head to his penis, driving it past her lips and down her throat, her saliva wetting him, her hand cradling his testicles, and he climaxed, hot sticky sperm spurting into her mouth, catching in her throat.
“Okay, if I come up?” shouted Jason. He was on the second level of the townhouse.
She tried to speak, but couldn’t. She had a mouthful of sperm and the slimy stuff was slithering down her throat all too slowly. Doug spoke up. 'Sure,” he said, shouting down at Jason. “Come on up.” His voice was still shaky after his orgasm. He stuffed his shrinking cock back in his jeans and zipped them up. She pulled her head away, sat up, and tried to arrange her clothing. Her panties were caught in her vagina. Too late to do anything about that. Her bra was awry and she stuffed a loose breast into it, buttoned up her blouse, and began to arrange her hair with her fingers.
Jason walked into the loft through the door. He looked puzzled. “What are you two doing?”
“I was demonstrating a yoga position to Emily,” said Doug with a laugh. He twisted one leg over the other in a parody. "She needs to relax."
With that Emily also tried to laugh, but a rivulet of sperm was stuck in her throat and she could only make a slurping sound. She suppressed a cough. That would spray sperm everywhere.
“Ha, ha,” Jason said, looking at her.
The sperm finally went down her throat. She gulped, licked her lips to get the residual off, and could finally speak. “I'm interested in yoga," she said lamely.
Emily and Doug hadn't been caught, but she felt guilty so, compensating, even though it was a weeknight, she invited Jason to her bed that night, and put more effort than usual into ensuring that he enjoyed the sex. What to do? She didn’t want to hurt Jason. He was her best friend, but she wanted Doug in her bed again.
*
Nothing is worse for a fragile ego -- and Emily's was fragile -- than to feel guilty about a sexual indiscretion, and find out that your lover has also been indiscreet, and more indiscreet than you have been.
Compelled by her conscience to tell Jason about her romantic encounter with Doug, Emily invited Jason to have a glass of wine and the two of them sat on the sofa in the living room of the townhouse. Emily wrestled with how she was going to break the news to Jason. He broke his news first.
“I’m not going to be around this weekend,” he announced nervously.
“Oh, too bad,” she stuttered, not quite sure whether to inquire into the reason or not. She was relieved. Maybe she and Doug....
“My girlfriend wants me back. We met yesterday and made up. I didn't tell you last night, because you seemed so needy that I didn't want to ruin your evening.”
That hit her like a shovel in the face. "He thinks I'm needy!" she thought with sudden wounded pride. "I was fucking him because he was needy. And he thinks that I was fucking him because I was needy!"
He patted her hand with sympathy. "I can see that you're disturbed. I'm sorry."
She was speechless, but thought, "My sweet, dependent, needy Doug – my lovable doormat -- is dumping me!" She almost threw her glass of wine in his face.
He consoled her. “I’m going to see my girlfriend this weekend and work on our relationship. I haven't promised her anything, but it would be better while I'm rebuilding my relationship with her if we don't see each other."
She erupted. “You’ve been 'seeing me?' Well, if that's what you call it!" she said sarcastically. She jumped up from the sofa and started to flee toward her room. Jason caught her in his arms and, damn it, goddamn it, she was crying, her tears dripping on his shirt.
He patted her on the back, like a concerned parent dealing with a willful child. “Please don’t cry, Em. We’re still friends. It’s just that I love my girl friend and you and I are...uh..." He left the word "roommates" unsaid.
Slowly, as she cried on his shoulder, her wounded pride ebbed and was replaced by relief. "I don't have to tell him about Doug. And now I can fuck Doug! Without guilt."
She dried her tears and looked Jason in the eye. “I’ll be okay, Jason. It was a shock to me, but you’re right. We are just friends. You should take care of yourself. And I’ll be fine.”
“You’re my best friend, Emily," he responded. You saved me during a very difficult time in my life. I’ll love you forever for that. No matter how you feel."
“Friends forever,” she responded, kissing him on the cheek, then pulling away. “But,” she warned him with a laugh, “don’t be coming up to my room unannounced. I may not become a nun.”
“Emily, if I can help…don’t hesitate…I’m here for you…”
She gently pushed him away. "Don’t burn bridges," She advised herself. "Doug will be a flighty lover. If he becomes a lover."
"So, that was that," she thought in bed that night. Jason, as a lover, was history. "What do I do now?" she asked herself. The song "Second Hand Rose" came to mind. "That's me: Second Hand Rose to both Jason and Doug." She shrugged. "There are worse fates. I need to focus on my job and not get entangled in matters of the heart. So, I'll fuck Doug if he comes on to me again"-- she smiled at the thought -- "but I won't get involved emotionally with him." That sounded like a plan.
*
It didn't happen quickly. Doug kept a friendly but respectful distance from her for a while. She hoped that his attitude was not indifference, but rather a discreet pause while she recovered from the end of her affair with Jason. She could have expressed, by word or deed, her willingness to be bedded by him, but that seemed slutty. Better to await his invitation rather than risk losing his respect of her.
Two weeks after her breakup with Jason, Doug suggested they have a beer down at the corner restaurant. To her pleasure, it became clear that they were both reading from the same page. Get a bit drunk and then go to bed. Doug could blame the beer for cheating on his girl friend, and she could blame the beer for hopping into bed with him. Their hook-up would seem unplanned, incidental. They could, thus, remain at emotional arm’s length, while enjoying the physical. It worked, but not as Emily expected.
They returned, arm in arm, wobbly on their feet, to the townhouse. Jason was gone. Emily expected Doug to lead her up the stairs to her loft or his room, but instead he pulled her with him into the light of the kitchen. "I want to fuck you right now, right here,' he said. With that he turned her toward the table, pulled her sweater over her head, loosed her bra and flung it aside, He kissed the back of her neck while his hands pulled up her skirt, and his fingers sought her beneath her panties, a finger stroking her clitoris, and then he inserted it into her vagina. She was wet.
She was surprised and excited, a little frightened at his assault on her body, "Now?" he asked. "Now!" he demanded.
She was more than ready, frantic for him, her reserve evaporated as his finger probed inside her. "Yes, God damn it! Fuck me now. You bastard! Fuck me now!" She shocked herself as she leaned over the table and raised her buttocks.
He found a condom in a pocket, unzipped his blue jeans, put the condom on, and probed her backside until his penis slipped inside her and they both gasped. "I've wanted to take you for months," he said. "But you and Jason have been fucking like rabbits." He thrust hard into her.
"Are you going to talk, or are you going to fuck me?" she answered fiercely, her frustration and longing for him coming out on in aggrieved passion. She had never before been aggressive in her love-making.
He held her hips as he stroked inside her, her breasts bouncing off the top of the kitchen table, her face pressed against the smooth wood-paneled table top, her mouth open and contorted as she fought for breath,
"Come with me!" he ordered as his hips slapped against hers, his penis ramming in and out of her vagina,
"I will," she answered. She had never liked sex from the back, but this was different. She yielded to submission, an emotion she had not had and yet found arousing. She felt no need to assert herself, only to yield for the moment in this pantomime of the elemental and the primitive experience of man breeding with woman.
That thought fled from her mind as his pounding against her increased in intensity and she felt nerves radiate through her body, her knees beginning to buckle beneath her. "Ready?" he asked, his breath ragged.
"Ready," she answered, the word escaping with a long sigh.
Doug leaned further over her, pushing her face harder against the table, and she climaxed first, he supporting her with his hands while she writhed in passion and when she subsided she felt his body stiffen and straighten behind her and with a long, lingering gasp, he ejaculated in her.
"Oh, shit," she said when their bodies, still joined, relaxed in exhaustion. "That was...thrilling."
"That was just the beginning," Doug said. "That was fucking. Now, I want to make love to you. Let's go to your room and do it again. Slowly and lovingly."
Emily stood up and kissed Doug on the lips. She gathered up her clothes, scattered around the floor, while he went into the bathroom and flushed his condom down the toilet. He came out zipping up his blue jeans and she met him at the bottom of the stairs, holding her clothes in her arms and he and she climbed the stairs together to her loft.
"First, Doug," she mused "Then Jason. Now Doug again. I should feel humiliated by being Second Hand Rose to both of them, but I'm beyond that." Her thoughts continued. "I don't know how this will turn out, good or bad, but I'm going to live in the moment." She sounded persuasive to herself, putting emotion on a back burner and passion at the forefront. They kissed at the top of the stairs, and their lips remained locked as Doug maneuvered her to the side of her futon, and she reclined to receive him again.
Copyright: Elsie Thompson
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- 24.09.2020
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