Whenever I look at Julia I wonder where that rule about not sleeping with your roommate comes from. It makes no sense; you are comfortable enough to share a flat, split the bills and see each other day in and day out, that is more than I can say about any of the women I have slept with.
But for some reason we have stuck to that unwritten rule for over a year now. It’s weird, especially considering sex is not a taboo topic between us; we joke and tease all the time and if one of us has a date over we discuss it in detail the next morning.
But all this time we have managed to stay away from each other. Even if we end up on the couch cuddling because one of us had a bad day it never goes past that. It is like a competition between us to see who breaks first, and we both happen to be quite strong willed.
But tonight is different, it seems we caught one of those days that left us both the worse for wear and our patience is spread pretty thin. It’s a Friday night that is still young because we left the house party at Ellie’s way ahead of everyone else; we just couldn’t bring ourselves to enjoy it. Instead we find ourselves on the couch, snuggled against each other as much as the pillows, and for some reason hands and fingers aren’t exactly where they belong. Below the blanket for starters, a little too close to restricted areas and a little too active for comfort.
I can feel her fingers on my leg, almost touching my ass, and they are twitching just like mine are on her hips. I am supposed to have an arm around her shoulder, maybe her head on mine, but certainly not lips almost touching my neck or fingers moving in a sensual manner rather than the best friend one we are so used to. It’s dangerously close to what we have been trying to avoid. The TV show we have put on has stopped mattering a while ago and we are desperately trying to come up with a reason not to go any further.
Yes, we are tired, not in the mood for sex and cranky enough to yell at anyone who so much as looks at us wrong, but at the same time we need the warmth of another body. I want to get up, make up some excuse and bring some of that much needed distance between us and I can sense Julia is trying the same.
I even got so far as to lift my hand from her hip, we shuffled and almost managed to leave each other’s embrace but then my hand was back down, a little further down this time.
The sigh that escapes my lips lingers somewhere between annoyed, exhausted and moaning and I realize we won’t find our way out of this mess tonight. And that we have displayed sufficient struggle to ensure we can treat it as a one time thing should we wake up devastated and full of regret.
The distance my hand has to travel from hip to her stomach is miniscule, but actually travelling changes everything between us. Her shirt is pushed up easily and I have a second to feel the muscles in her stomach, a body as hard as life seems to be as of late and a second to wonder if I have made a mistake before I feel her lips touching the skin on my neck.
Not a word is needed, a deal proposed in touches and signed in shivers, goosebumps and the closing of what little distance we had still maintained.
For the last hour I have put a lot of thought into how wild it could get between us, envisioned the hard kisses, ripping of clothes and hungry skipping of foreplay. But nada, I don’t think I have ever kissed someone so slowly, spent so much time just touching and I sure as hell have never spent so much time before a single piece of clothing comes off.
Our lips just can’t leave each other, her hands are too busy pulling my head close to even think about pulling pants down or shirts up, and my own hands are busy holding her ass cheeks more than I’m grabbing them. We don’t fall down into position, we sink down giving fear and moral considerations ample time to leave the ship before we hit rock bottom down in the cold sea of lust and pleasure.
Somehow the blanket has managed to stay on top of us thus far, but now that it leaves us to spend the night on the floor our clothes want to follow. I pull Julia’s shirt over her shoulders, the old Metallica shirt that has done a few too many rounds in washing machines over the years but has been a better friend than anyone she knew when she bought it. Her breasts are beautiful, firm enough to free her from the need for bras and just about big enough to give a nice bulge in snug shirts and tops. A handful of dollars, pale riders on a lonesome road through no man’s land.
My lips find hard nipples, soft lips and a hungry tongue and a painful moan escapes me as her teeth dig into my lower lip. I’m still wearing my party shirt and her fingers are busy unbuttoning it, one by one without the need to resew even one of them tomorrow. The good thing about sweatpants is how you can dive under them with your fingers, how you can push them down with your knuckles without your fingers ever leaving those wonderfully firm butt cheeks. I let my fingers glide down to the back of her thighs, briefly passing wet pussy lips on the way, just enough to get a moan out of her that I breathe as she exhales it.
The good thing about jeans is how long it takes to get them off, how undoing a belt is a clear sign that it was no accidental action and how a button pops out of the hole with a satisfying certainty. We have to leave each other for the tiniest movement to get out of our respective pants, the last moment we could use to reconsider but of course we let it pass. Julia lets her fingers run over my chest, playing with the hair as much as I play with her spine and neck, her body moving in unfamiliar ways under each of my touches.
We still haven’t talked this through, not a single word and frankly the time for words is over now. Intelligible ones, that is; as Julia lets her pussy lips glide over my rock hard dick I can’t help but exclaim my appreciation. A moment later we find together, a little guidance of her hand and I glide into her warm, wet darkness and lose all sense of reality. I love that feeling, the surprise about how it can feel so good mixed with the fear of coming within the first few thrusts. Knowing that even if you make it past those few you are unlikely to win a prize for lasting long, but at long last you are where you belong.
Her hips move down and up and I can see in her eyes that I am not far ahead of her, that I just might last long enough after all. She is as tight as I always thought she would be, a perfect fit for my dick that is just barely above average, long enough to feel good about myself until someone adjusts the average but for now it’s perfect. There is little wiggle room and I feel how I stretch her a little, my hips now thrusting up as much as Julia bounces down. Her composure is lost as I pull her close and intensify my thrusts, maybe a little too forceful for my own balance but we are going to see who loses this battle. Her eyes tell me she is considering a full retreat, crossed like the Rubicon and about as focused as I was at work these past days. Her normally so cute face lacks all decency now, her mouth open and her breath ragged and for the first time in an eternity discernible words escape her lips.
It takes her four breaths to utter three words but it does not take me four thrusts before I empty my balls deep inside her, my dick twitching like crazy as I pump her full with what I imagine to be a massive load. We will never know, but I can’t seem to stop pounding her even though my balls hurt and my dick screams for freedom. I just can’t stand the thought of leaving her just yet. Julia trembles in my arms, equally unable to stop or continue and as we finally slow down neither of us is able to hide a smile. A grin, really, exhausted and sweaty, and the kiss we share takes so long I forget what breathing fresh air feels like.
She looks at me with a cheeky grin on her lips and in her eyes as she wiggles her hips a little.
“You are still hard, you naughty boy.”
I don’t have anything to say to that, I don’t think that ever happened to me before. Usually you could poke me with a stick and I wouldn’t be able to move for a few minutes after an orgasm. But yes, I am still hard and even though it does hurt a tiny bit when she moves her hips it does not go away. Not that I want to leave her anytime soon, or she me for that matter.
I pull her in for another kiss, solidifying the fact that neither of us has much regret about what happened.
“I’m afraid I’m not done with you yet,” I whisper between two kisses.
“Good, because neither am I.”