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Beth had thought long and hard about living with a roommate before moving in with Heather, her natural inclination being toward solitude and privacy. But Heather was a professional girl, very tidy, and fun to be with. What’s more, she traveled a lot for her job and was rarely home, affording Beth all the privacy she wanted at half the rent.
The two young women lived in an old apartment building in the type of unit most often described as “charming” – which, as Beth was discovering, was a euphemism for “drafty with chipping paint and a roof leak.” But it was spacious and had beautiful light, and despite the fact that the linoleum on the kitchen floor was impossible to get all the way clean and they couldn’t open any of the windows on the north end, and they had to share a bathroom, curling up in the morning with a cup of coffee in their spacious living room was one of Beth’s greatest joys. In fact, since making a series of life changes – including breaking off her engagement, moving a hundred miles away, and starting a new job – she had far more joyous moments than in recent years.
About the only part of her new arrangement that wasn’t joyous was the fact that Heather had a new boyfriend. So far, things had been fine, but Beth hadn’t signed up for living with a guy full-time, nor did she want to lose the good thing she had going. So she watched the Jackson situation very carefully. Jackson seemed like a nice enough guy, actually. He was an attorney, intelligent, articulate, generous, handsome, seemingly mild-mannered, with a slightly quirky sense of humor. The respectable kind of boyfriend both a mother and father might approve of while still being interesting enough not to make a girl fling herself off a bridge with boredom. Heather talked about him nonstop, which was part of the reason Beth was worried. She happened to know Heather was a fast-track-to-the-aisle kind of girl and could see her roommate wanting to move things along pretty quickly with a certified “good catch.”
Beth, who’d recently dated a long line of such men, was ready to go in the exact opposite direction. She wanted someone who could fulfill her, although she couldn’t say exactly what that entailed. It wasn’t just a sexual need – although it was that, too; her last boyfriend, Steven, had the lowest sex drive of any man she’d ever met – but a need for something more. A thrill of some kind. A unique connection.
Friday nights were Jackson and Heather’s date nights, and since Jackson’s place was outside the city, they generally spent Fridays at the apartment and then headed out for the weekend, sometimes to his place and sometimes to other destinations. On this particular night, Beth was home long before they were but had a hard time falling asleep. She was reading, which usually did the trick, but her novel was engrossing and she was keyed up, so sleep evaded her.
By the time she was finally tired, she switched off the light and got comfortable only to hear Heather and Jackson come in. Heather must have had a lot to drink, Beth thought, because she was giggling quite a bit and talking way too loudly. She kept laughing and squealing unintelligibly to Jackson. Their voices drew closer, and then Beth heard them go into Heather’s bedroom and the voices stopped. Her eyes closed and the house finally quiet, she drifted off.
She heard the muffled murmuring, the shifting of the bodies in the bed, the soft sighs while still half-asleep. And then, as plainly as if they were next to her, she heard Heather whisper, “Jackson, shh, Beth’s in the next room!”
A low chuckle. “She’s asleep. And so what if she heard us?”
Silence. Then, “Jackson, that’s not funny, that’s disgusting.”
“Babe, it’s fine. She’s fast asleep…probably has been for hours. She can’t hear anything…and I need you…I need to be inside you.”
Beth strained to hear more, but the room was mostly quiet again except for movements and occasional sighs.
And then Jackson, crystal clear. “Let me taste you.” As if it was meant for her. Beth felt a jolt of excitement rip through her body, instantly stiffening her nipples and cramping her stomach. She was acutely aware of the warmth in her groin, a pulsing between her legs, a softening of her core as her body lubricated just from the sound of his voice and the words he was saying.
“It would turn me on so much to taste you and smell you…rub my face in your juices…” Jackson again, his deep voice resonating through every fiber of Beth’s being, while Heather murmured protests, shutting him down, her voice talking on a whiny tone.
More murmurs. Beth’s hand strayed inside her tank top, her fingers stroking her breast, teasing light circles around her areola, the underside of her generous tit, moving back to flick her nipple, then squeeze it. She wet her finger in her mouth and touched it to her aching nipple. Instant intensifying of her desire. She played with her nipples lazily for a bit, pinching them both, one then the other, then both simultaneously, anticipating casino şirketleri her pleasure, in no rush, just enjoying the sensation of her hands on herself.
She could hear Jackson again, louder this time, obviously confident that they weren’t being overheard. He was groaning and panting, muttering a string of incoherent noises. Heather’s full-sized bed was being overworked, from the sound of it – the sturdy frame squeaking just slightly as the two lovers coupled. A few times (and Beth imagined this was when Jackson stroked particularly deep) the headboard knocked against the wall.
And then plainly, his voice again, lost in ecstasy: “Oh, fuck, yes!”
Beth’s hand went immediately to her cotton-covered mound. She was soaked and hot, her pussy blazing through the thin fabric. She yanked her panties down around her ankles and spread her knees wide, opening herself up, sliding her fingers into her slick hole, her juices pooled there. She rubbed the moisture up over her hard clit, shuddering as she touched the sensitive button lightly with her fingers.
“Cum for me,” she heard. His urgent voice, almost growling. “I want you to cum all over my cock, right now. I want to feel you and hear you before I shoot my sticky load inside you.”
Beth rubbed herself more vigorously now, her hand reaching over her head for her feather pillow and pulling it over her face so she could muffle her cries into it. She was close to her orgasm – it had taken no time at all, she must have been really horny, she thought – and didn’t want her roommate or her boyfriend to hear her cum.
“That’s it, baby,” Jackson groaned. “Oh, fuck, I’m so close. I’m not cumming until you do.” The bed squeaking louder, the headboard thumping now in an audible rhythm, muffled whimpering from Heather, Jackson moaning and cursing.
And Beth, rubbing her slippery clit with one hand, her fingers of the other hand plunging inside herself, her teeth sunk into her pillow. So close, so close…
“So fucking close!” Jackson gasped. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, that’s it…. Oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” A primal moan, choked at the end, and then Beth stopped hearing.
The blood roared in her ears and she was swept off, her mind bursting into a million little sizzling embers, her body arching off the bed as she was racked with her powerful climax. Biting into the pillow so hard she wasn’t sure she could unclench her teeth. Muffling the cries that wanted to pour forth from her until they were just little sounds in her throat.
Her body, thoroughly wrung out. Her mind recovering. And then racing. What if they heard? What kind of a sick bitch was she, anyway? Oh, God, she’d just listened to her friends having sex. And masturbated to it. And gotten off on it more than she had anything in recent memory. Fuck.
Facing them in the morning was going to be awkward. Beth knew this, but the lure of coffee was more than she could resist. She drew on her robe and padded out to the kitchen. Heather was sitting at the table, fully dressed in workout clothes, drinking her coffee and reading the paper on her Kindle. Jackson was in nothing but pajama pants.
Beth tried to avert her eyes and went directly to the coffee maker. “Good morning,” she said, forcing her voice to stay light.
“Morning!” Heather chirped. “Beth, I’m so sorry for Jackson not wearing a shirt. I asked him to put one on in case it made you uncomfortable…” here she paused to give him a pointed glare, “…which he will totally do if you are.”
“Nope, it’s fine,” she assured them. “As long as he keeps his pants on, we’re good.” Fuck! Where did that come from? She blushed and avoided eye contact.
And then Jackson’s hearty laughter. “I think I can handle that, Beth.” His voice caressing her name.
Heather smacked him playfully. “You better handle it! Ok, you guys, I’m off to the gym. Have to work off last night’s mojitos!”
“Fair enough,” Jackson returned. “I’ll run later, when normal people work out. You have fun.” Heather leaned over him for a kiss, which Beth could see out of her periphery, but ducked away when Jackson grabbed for her, giggling and swatting his hands away.
Beth stole a glance at him as he watched Heather leave. She took in his lean chest, his thatch of brown hair tapering down to the waistband of his pajama pants. His long legs, his capable hands clasped around his coffee mug.
Somehow Jackson looked different. But she pushed it out of her mind. She was just horny and needed her own sexy life. She was experiencing the longest dry spell of her life, and this was the result. She was reduced to staring at her roommate’s boyfriend and eavesdropping on their lovemaking.
Eavesdropping while you play with yourself, you dirty bitch, the little voice in her head reminded her.
Later that week, Heather came into the living room where she was reading a magazine and drinking a glass of wine and plopped down across from her, her own drink in hand. “Beth, I need your advice,” casino firmaları she started.
“Okay…” Beth put her magazine down. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Jackson. It’s about… Okay. So. You know Jackson, right? He’s amazing, isn’t he? I mean, he’s cute, he’s smart, he has a good job, he’s… He’s pretty perfect.”
“So what’s the problem, then?” Beth asked.
“Well, it’s just that he…well, Jackson likes…” Heather trailed off and blushed. “I can’t even talk about it, it’s so gross.”
“No, tell me. I won’t judge,” Beth urged.
“Well, ok.” Heather was clearly uncomfortable, and Beth almost felt badly for putting her through this little exercise. Almost. “Ok, so, when he’s over…I mean, you don’t…”
“Don’t what?” Beth made her expression as clueless as possible.
“Don’t, you know, hear him?” Heather was completely scarlet now, her chest mottled with splotches. Beth felt even worse, but continued with her charade.
“I’m not sure what you mean…”
“When we…have sex!” She buried her face in her hands and shuddered. “It’s so disgusting!” She sat there for a moment, regaining her composure.
Wow, thought Beth, she really hates it. It’s not even simple discomfort. She hates it and she’s never going to not hate it. Poor Jackson.
“I don’t hear you guys having sex, if that’s what you’re asking,” Beth lied, guiltily remembering the night she pleasured herself nonstop to the sound of Jackson’s voice in the next room. “Thank God,” she added.
Heather’s eyes were grateful. “I would be so embarrassed if you did. Mortified, in fact. That’s just so gross.”
“But I mean…” and here Beth paused, unsure of how to press on. “Without giving me the details, what would I hear? What does he say? Or is it just, like…sounds?” Now she flushed, recalling how hot it had been to hear Jackson groaning at the moment of his climax. Even now, recalling it, she felt the moisture trickling from her.
“It’s everything!” Heather cried. “He says all these things…maybe he’s trying to turn me on, I don’t know, but it doesn’t. It doesn’t turn me on at all. It just freaks me out. He talks the whole time. And he just moans and groans and carries on…the sounds are like…” She searched for the word and when she settled on it, she sagged, defeated. “An animal. He sounds like an animal when we have sex, and it just…turns me off.”
“So…have you said anything to him?”
“No!” The very idea seemed to scandalize Heather. ‘We don’t talk about…you know.”
“But aren’t you planning to marry him? Don’t you think you should be able to talk about sex? You’re going to spend your entire life with this man, Heather. Don’t you think this deserves some attention?”
“I know! I know! That’s what I’m worried about.” Heather shuddered. “Do I have to listen to this for my whole life?”
Beth was soaking wet, thinking about what it would be like to have Jackson’s deep, sexy voice in her ear for her entire life, talking dirty to her, making those arousing sounds that so disgusted her prudish roommate. “Mmm,” she murmured, as if in agreement. “It’s not a deal breaker, though…?”
“That’s just it…it might be. It really freaks me out, Beth. It’s not just that I don’t like it. It literally turns my stomach. It makes sex super unpleasant.”
“Geez…Honey, I’m so sorry…I don’t know what to tell you…” she replied honestly.
Heather shrugged and got up for more wine. “I’ll figure it out. It seems like a waste of a good guy to just break up with him over sex. Especially since I’m told the sex never lasts long in marriage, anyway.” She smiled. “Which is what I’m hoping for, frankly.”
Now Beth was confused and slightly horrified. “Wait – what do you mean? You don’t want to have sex?”
“I mean…I like it. I do. There’s lots of things I like about it. I like all the kissing and everything…being close with him. He does have a hot body. I like knowing that he loves me. That he wants me. I just…” she trailed off “I guess I just wish he were a little more like me in bed. Just, you know, quiet and just wanting to make love and do regular stuff without the rest. He likes a lot of really weird stuff.”
Like oral sex, Beth thought. Gee, how weird. She was getting a very grim picture indeed of Heather and Jackson’s sex life. But she couldn’t help herself. She pressed on.
“Like what kind of weird stuff?” Then, to lighten the load, she made a serious face and asked, “Heather, is Jackson a biter?”
Heather blushed and giggled and swatted her with a throw pillow. “You’re nasty! No! Actually, I’m not even sure what that means.” She drank more of her wine. “I’m just…regular, you know? And Jackson’s more experienced than I am and just likes other stuff.”
“Well, he loves dirty talk, like I said. Which I hate. And he always wants to…you know…” she gestured between her legs. “I’m just not comfortable with someone having their face there. I’m just not!” She sighed. güvenilir casino “And I don’t like to do it to him, either, although I will. Sometimes it can be kind of exciting. But not all the time.”
“So have you explained any of this to him?” Beth asked gently. “It’s worth talking about, Heather, really. And maybe Jackson isn’t even into those things as much as you think he is. Maybe he’s just testing limits.”
“I don’t want him to test my limits!” Heather cried in frustration. “I just want regular sex, maybe once a week, and that’s it!”
Beth was inwardly horrified, although she couldn’t remember the last time she was getting sex once a week. It had been far too long for her. She would’ve given anything to trade places with Heather and let Jackson do any number of things to her.
“Promise me you’ll talk to him, even if you have to have some liquid courage to do it.”
“I really don’t want to,” Heather said miserably. “I really just want this to be a non-issue.”
“Well, it’s a big issue right now. So promise me that by next weekend you will have had this conversation with him.”
“Okay. I promise. I can’t take it anymore.”
The following Friday Heather and Jackson were back at the apartment. Heather hadn’t said anything further to Beth about their sex life, which was just fine with Beth, although she was curious. Very curious.
That night she went to her room while they were still watching a movie and started reading stories from her favorite erotic fiction web site. She was worked up long before the two of them went into Heather’s room, where the action began almost immediately. Heather had been drinking again, Beth had seen her with glass in hand during the movie, and she wondered if Heather was drinking to get over her sex hang-ups.
Hang-ups or no hang-ups, her boyfriend was just as noisy as he had been the previous week. Beth turned her light off and touched herself listening to Jackson, loving the dirty words that came out of his mouth, imagining they were meant for her. She thought of Jackson while she masturbated, imagining him in her bed, those long arms pulling her legs up over his shoulders as he drove deep within her. This time she had her dildo handy and thrust it deep within herself to the rhythm of Jackson’s panting, trying to time her orgasm once again with his. She imagined the silicone cock was Jackson, burying himself in her wet pussy, as she strained to hear his guttural moans. As he approached his climax, she heard him loud and clear: “Fuck…I’m so close…that’s it, I’m gonna cum inside you now…gonna shoot inside you…take it…that’s it!” And she again felt her own orgasm rush over her as she clenched her teeth and tried to muffle her cries.
Coming down she thought again that she really needed to find someone. This was beyond depraved. Masturbating to the sound of her roommate getting fucked…cumming to the sound of her roommate’s boyfriend as he climaxed…sick stuff. And yet she couldn’t suppress the urge. She thought to herself that it was unfair that here was Jackson, a man who clearly enjoyed a robust fucking, not to mention being vocal about it, and he was paired off with Heather, who couldn’t appreciate what she had. For a moment she thought maybe she should hook Heather up with Steven. They certainly made a nice, boring pair in the sack.
A few minutes later she heard Jackson murmuring again to Heather and her unintelligible words but very clear tone, shutting him down. Beth imagined being twined in her bed with Jackson, his semen dribbling out of her, his face smelling of her pussy, ready for a second round of fucking.
She dozed off during her fantasy but awoke needing to use the bathroom. She hadn’t heard him, but if she was being honest with herself, she would’ve still come out if she had. Sleepy as she was, she was awake enough to enjoy the sight of his body in the half-light of the hallway, and realized through her foggy brain that he had a great view of her tits in the skimpy tank top she was wearing. She smiled at him and could see that he was making every attempt not to just stare outright.
“Hi,” she whispered. “You go ahead, I’ll wait.”
“No, you go ahead,” he insisted, always the gentleman.
She was in and out quickly, still groggy but very conscious of Jackson in his boxers in the hallway. She could smell the yeasty scent of beer coming from his pores. He’d had a lot to drink that night – they both had. She imagined pushing him up against the wall, devouring his mouth, still with the taste of beer in it, rubbing herself against him, getting him hard, and then dropping to her knees and sucking him till he came hard in her mouth. The sudden force of her fantasy made her blush and look away.
Jackson looked at her carefully. She could tell he was trying to gauge whether or not she had heard them. “I hope you weren’t…woken up,” he said tentatively, his voice huskier since he was trying to speak quietly.
This was her moment of truth. “Well, I did hear something, but it didn’t wake me up.” A beat. “I was already up. And it wouldn’t have disturbed me.”
She watched him mull that over while she held his gaze. He looked afraid to believe he was hearing any innuendo at all.
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