Message-ID: <8492eli$9802151210@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Brother_Cadfael@earthcorp.com (Brother Cadfael) Subject: 'Confronting the Roommate' (Brother Cadfael) [ MF ] Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.hetero,alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.stories.erotic Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: Brother_Cadfael@earthcorp.com X-Intended-For: Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: -------------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright 1998. Distribute freely, but change nothing. -------------------------------------------------------------------- Brother_Cadfael@earthcorp.com Synopsis: Aaron's roommate-of-circumstance is driving him insane with her whoring-around and keeping him awake nights. Worse, she can't even treat him with any respect. Will he convince her to change her ways or send her away? -[ Confronting the Roommate ]- Dylane was an uncommonly gorgeous girl. Even worse, she knew it. That's why she made the most irritating roommate. Had Aaron not been desperate to split living-costs, he'd have never accepted the idea of living together. She wasn't even his friend in the first place. She'd been the friend of an ex-girlfriend who he'd barely known. And from the little experience he'd had with her around his girlfriend, he was glad he didn't know her. She was intelligent and, so far as her parents knew, quite pristine. But they didn't have to try sleeping six nights a week with the rhythmic pounding of headboard against wall or her nipple-twisting climaxes. She treated Aaron like a bad odor and then wondered why he disliked her so much. As if she expected to be adored despite her lacking sense of courtesy. And he always appeared to be the bad-guy to everyone else. Of course. Why not? To them, she was an angelic creature. Daughter of a rich daddy who scooted his daughter out to experience the real world. The bastard couldn't even throw her a few extra bucks to afford her own apartment. Other than Aaron and Dylane's boyfriends, the world saw her as a discreet, honest, scholarly, young lady. They never saw the short skirts or tight shirts. And they certainly never watched her play a man. And that's exactly what she did. She never went to parties or clubs. She found men to take home from grocery stores, convenience stores, parking lots, college campus, or the husbands and boyfriends of her girlfriends. She just showed a little breast or sat in ways which made her lacking panties very apparent to her target. He even knew her to bed delivery people when he ordered out. Aaron was clueless as to why she needed to fuck anything with male genitalia. He certainly didn't care to trek into her pathology. Christ, she could sleep with half of the NBA and die of a slue of sexually transmitted diseases for all he cared. Although that would put him in a bind, looking for a new roommate. What he did care about was why she treated him so badly. Even after he had initially tried to be kind and decent to her. Something the men who fucked her never attempted. And more, at this hour of the morning, he cared to hear no more of the incessant 'thunk' - 'thunk' of the headboard. Some people had to take finals this week. And some of them couldn't just fuck a grade out of their instructors. And what did this make anyway? The seventh guy she'd spread for this week? They'd been in there for three hours and the 'thunk' - 'thunk' had been non-stop for almost ninety-minutes. For a girl who always complained about guys who couldn't hold it together for more than five minutes, she was sure getting the endurance test tonight. Tonight. Christ, it was almost 2:00am in the morning! He had to do something. It was too late to actually achieve anything, academically. Sleep, at least, would be welcomed. He hadn't slept well in a long time. The pressure of school had certainly gotten to him. Perhaps a long rest would give him the energy and mind that he had when the year started. But what to do about that damned 'thunk' - 'thunk'? An idea came to him, that should have been evident long before. Sneak into her bedroom when she's away one of these nights and pull the bed away from the wall two or three inches. There would still be an audible 'creak' - 'creak', he was sure, but it would be far more acceptable than the current situation. The 'creak' - 'creak' could even possibly be overcome with a white-noise machine available from any decent health-store. Or a simply fan turned away from him. The whirring of the plastic blades would be preferable to all of this. None of that would solve the problem this night, though. Sleep. God, he needed sleep. He was normally just passive enough to live with this wench and her antics but without decent sleep for so long, he had come to have enough of it. Angry and rash, he became. Aaron finally tired of it. Enough was simply enough. After all, he footed the bill for at least fifty percent of the costs around here. He had a right to peace and sleep and a night without the lustful sounds of that slut and her pig 'boyfriends'. He slipped his shoes on and left the room. Opened the door and walked into Dylane's room without announcement. He was hunched over her body, pumping mechanically. They were both sweating and her face was contorted in a way Picasso would have enjoyed. With her eyes shut, she didn't realize they were joined by a third until he grabbed the guy and pulled him off of her by the arm. She shrieked and followed with a torrent of words that would have bled Andrew Dice Clay's ears like glass through the ear-canal. The guy, tall but not much for muscles, tried to protest. Aaron told him, with a stone- cold expression, that he had better get away before he called the police for sleeping with his sister. There was no resemblance between he and Dylane, but the guy wasn't likely to notice with the surrounding commotion. He didn't seem to understand what was wrong with fucking Aaron's sister until Aaron made a comment about statutory rape. The guy grabbed his clothes and carried them out to the hallway where he changed. Before shutting the door in his face, he screamed, "Bitch! You said you were twenty-two!" The 'thunk' - 'thunk' was finally gone, but the 'screech' - 'screech' of Dylane's voice replaced it. He let her words and threats pass by. "I think you've had enough cock in you to satisfy you for a couple days. I own half of this place and I intend to get some god damned sleep! Now shut the hell up!" He yelled. Dylane shut her mouth. From shock of his tone and words, not for fear of his anger. She'd never seen him angry before. Brooding, yes. Christ, he was always brooding. It was any emotional outburst which was a rare occurrence and gained quick attention of those around him. She looked like she had been slapped across the face. But not by a hand; words. She clenched her fist and struck Aaron. It smarted, but wasn't painful. He caught her hand and told her that if she wasn't such a stuck-up, insensitive, self-centered, oblivious whore she'd get fucked beyond anything she could handle without having to search outside the apartment. Her mouth opened to speak words that weren't there and she froze. Aaron replayed his just-spoken words again in his head. Had he just said what he thought he said? My god-- he certainly had! But did he mean it? God, was she going to take it with the same intentions and suggestions that he thought he had said it with? "You... I..." She began to say. She stopped and gathered her words again. "I'm sorry," was all she managed to say. She began to cry. Aaron was fed up. He was fed up with her behavior. He was worn without sleep. He needed to parse his thoughts and his words. They had slipped out, but the instant they did-- he felt an emotion he hadn't felt two minutes before. Or ever before, for that matter. He walked away. "God damn you!" Dylane said between sobs. Aaron stopped. He didn't turn around, but he paused as if to speak again before going to his room. "Like you'd ever touch me," she bawled. "If I wasn't friends with your ex-girlfriend, I'd think you're gay!" Aaron looked up from the carpet and hesitated. He turned and took to large steps to her. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to her hips. He kissed her lips. He kissed them hard and tasted her salty tears smeared on them. She pressed hers back against his. She pressed her weight against him and tried to step against him, moving him against the couch. She had always tried to control him. Hurt him with her attitude and stinging insults. She wasn't going to do that now. He pushed back. Harder. Still kissing. Still stealing her breath. He lifted her naked body around his waist and slammed her forcefully into the nearest wall. The mirror on the end of the wall shook and almost fell off. She uttered a brief cry, muffled in his mouth, in response. Aaron ground his manhood against her naked flesh. Her trimmed pussy wetted the front of his jeans with her excitement. Dylane freed her hands and jerked on his hair. He groaned angrily, but she wouldn't relent. He soon parted from her lips. "Still think I'm gay? Fucking whore," he said, spitefully. "Don't say that," she said, tearing up again. "Please. Don't say something like that. Don't hurt me." Their words were very quiet. A back-and-forth only above a whisper. Almost quiet enough to hear the hearts racing and the blood flowing the their groins. "I should care about hurting you? Like you've always cared about watching my feelings?" He was angry. She could see the daggers in his eyes, fully drawn from their scabbards. Her tears still came. "I always thought you hated me," was her answer. Aaron pressed himself against her pussy again. She was so wet and she was making him so hard. He kept his eyes shut and shamefully wallowed in being so near what dozens of other men had. "Fuck me," Dylane whispered into Aaron's ear. All of his animosity toward her. All of his frustration and resentment for the way she had interrupted his life and caused so many problems. It all joined together at this instant and he wanted to fuck her. God forgive him, he wanted to fuck her into submission. Every cell of him was attracted to her, but his conscious mind let all the things between them keep him away. It all made itself visible to him now and he nearly fell to tears with the realization of his interest in her. He took her to the sofa and let her down from his hips. She stood before him and watched with wide eyes as he stripped of his clothing. She turned away from him and he pressed his hand firmly against her lower back. With that guidance, she bent over the back of the couch. Familiar with the routine, she spread her legs for him and he entered slowly into her. Dylane reached behind her and grabbed Aaron's cock. She stopped him and shook her head, "Uh-uh," she said, "other one." She pressed his cock against her anus with her fingers. He was about to protest and mention Vaseline, but she pulled his cock toward her and it went in with relative ease. His head entered completely and she gave nothing but a very pleasurable sigh. She was unspeakably tight as the muscles of her ass clenched tightly about him. She had experience with this, most certainly. Enough experience to accept him without preparation; only a bit of excitement. God, the entire feeling was different from what he was used to. As he sank in fully, she was tight around the base of his shaft. A couple inches upward, a different texture and feel than the silk of a woman's vagina caressed him. And after that was the vacant space and only on deep thrusts would his cock hit anything at the end. It was so dirty. Nasty and filthy. Increasing speed and fucking her asshole like the most inviting pussy, he felt more the whore than Dylane could ever have in spreading for all the men before him. And in this momentary decline, he felt magnificent. "Oh!" she screamed with his every in-stroke. He felt like he was either splitting her in half or being crushed by her powerful muscles. He took her hips with his hands and pulled her against him as he pushed into her each time. This caused her screams to increase and and she cried for him to come inside of her. She moved away from the couch a little bit and reached beneath herself and between her legs to take his scrotum into her hands and massage his balls. She squeezed carefully and repeatedly in a rhythm keeping with the method in which she was being fucked. It drove him far beyond the point of climax and he came into her bowels. The intensity called for a monstrous cry from his throat. It surprised him, for he was one to never make a sound when he orgasmed. And as his sperm coursed into her, she continued to scream. She moaned for long moments after the his climax and touched her breasts as he remained sheathed. She leaned over the couch while she attempted to gain her breath. When her panting and moaning subsided, and he sensed she was about to stand up, he took her off guard and drove into her with a final thrust of greater movement and force than the others had been. It startled her and she screamed. Partially, it seemed, from pain, but she propelled herself over the back of the sofa and fell on the seat of it. She jittered and whined while she rocked to and fro on the seat-cushions. He knelt next to her and took one of her hands. He gripped it at the palm and she clenched his, too. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" He asked cautiously. "Oh, god, no..." She answered. "God, it's been very long since I've given in to that..." Aaron laughed to himself. She's had all these men but in relatively the same way, it seemed. So much for his thoughts of her being the adventurous whore. He pondered the probability of her being satisfied with one man who would have her many different ways. The thought pleased him. She rocked herself like a young child for a long time and turned to Aaron, who still knelt beside her. "Carry my into your bedroom," she said. He lifted her into his arms. She was very light. Both of them naked, he brought her to bed and lay with her. They snuggled together. The warmth of their bodies was great and the blanket kept that heat surrounding them. They kissed and touched, playfully, until the sun began to rise. Nearly asleep, they said their last words and passed into slumber. "You know you can't love me," she reminded him. "I know," he lied. The truth was, he could quite imagine loving her. So much hate. He hadn't hated her all this time. He'd only been covering the jealousy that he didn't realize he had. "You can always fuck me." And he knew he would. And each time she would sneak off to her own bedroom with another man, his heart would break. And his spite, jealousy, and anger would grow again. And it would fuel their love- making. And she'd devour his heart once more. -fin- -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |