Kate and the Flatmate

Kate and the Flatmate Kate and the Flatmate

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Tags

Summary

A new flatmate takes Kate's fancy

Tags

Summary

A new flatmate takes Kate's fancy

Content

Submitted: December 10, 2016

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: December 10, 2016

A A A

A A A


I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I blame Cassandra. Whether it will be good blame or bad blame in the end, it’s too early to know. We had a nice set up; three girls in a share flat for the Uni term. It was relaxed, we got on well and after our evening showers we could uninhibitably run around in our undies or PJ’s.

 

 

Then mid-term she had to suspend her studies and go home, so we needed a new tenant happy with a very short lease. That was going to limit our choices. Which stopped us being too particular about getting another girl.

 

So we end up with this Chris Hemsworth lookalike; which was some upside. So also was the fact that he was into water sports and exercise, just like me; even if we were stuck in Canberra, 100’s of kms from the nearest beach. So we took him on and told him he’d have to deal with a pair of girls running around in undies after dinner; and he was welcome to do the same.

 

The fact is, I wasn’t all that reluctant to go with him as our choice, even though he was a guy. He wasn’t just attractive, he’d struck me as really nice too; an intelligent, gentle sort of manner that I thought would make him easy to live with. And it gave me someone to exercise with; even if I did come to have suspicions as to why he so often wanted to run Indian file style with me always in the lead. It’s all very well to think of other path users, but it is Canberra. They have paths that are more like boulevards.

 

As the weeks had gone on, I’d found myself increasingly drawn to him. Now regular readers know I have a severe commitment aversion derived from my parents’ divorce when I was a little girl. Back home, the best bed partner was a visiting surfer; great bodies and a knowledge they’d be gone in a few weeks – so no emotional complications.

 

And yet, inspired by the love that my best friends Karen and Greg had found together I became inspired to overcome that and experience love. Recently it nearly broke my heart to turn down an offer of a long distance relationship with Chris even though I was incredibly drawn to him. But with the pressure of my medical degree, it was just too much to deal with.

 

And now I was becoming quite attached to a guy already under my own roof; always testing out whether he might feel the same. Because hooking up with a flatmate is always fraught. If it doesn’t work out you’ve bought into a lot of shit. But that was helped in this case be the shortness of the lease.

 

In my mind, I’d decided I was willing to give it a go if it happened. I forcefully suppressed the feeling I always get to just run away or close down the shutters. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but in the end I’d decided that in two and a half months the term would be over, the lease would be at an end and unless we positively decided to keep things going, we’d be going our separate ways. It was a way of putting him in the same box as the visiting surfers. It was a mental approach that stopped me building a wall like I usually do if threatened by commitment.

 

With me able to just think of it as sex on tap with a guy conveniently living with me, I also figured I could stop it interfering with my studies too much. It took on trust not pissing each other off too much before term ended, but I thought we could hold it together for that long.

 

Of course, that assumed we got it together in the first place.

 

When it did happen, it was almost by accident. Em was out for the night and as I walked to the shower I noticed that Luke was sprawled across the left hand side of the two person settee watching the movie “Letters from Juliet.” In typical male fashion, he was legs apart, leaning to the right with his arm along the back of the right hand side of the settee. In other words, taking up the whole couch. Post shower, he was in nothing more than a t shirt and boxer shorts, a sliver of his hairy ball sack visible up the legs of the shorts.

 

The movie was of course a romance. One I’d wanted to see, but one I was surprised Luke would sit through. Then after standing watching a few scenes on my way through, I noticed that in just about every one Amanda Seyfried appeared in a low cut braless outfit that offered a generous cleavage display and a few high beam nips to boot. Maybe that was it.

 

As I came to write what happened next, it occurred to me that, as a female writer, indeed as a female, there were aspects that I couldn’t write; didn’t have the knowledge to write. This was all the more important because much of my readership is male.

 

In her stories Karen has dealt with this by narrating what Greg has told her, often as a retrospective. And yet there was something about what happened that night which I didn’t think that approach would deal with adequately. I really wanted to capture step by step what the sordid, sex obsessed male brain thinks about as its owner first nails a girl and what his body feels.

 

The only place I was going to get that information was from Luke.

 

And so, after a few weeks, when our relationship had grown more comfortable, I cross examined Luke on the issue; pushing him for the little – let us say, less than politically correct – details that define the male experience.  With a hand gently squeezing his balls – and the threat of more pressure if he didn’t comply – I got my information. Even stuff a guy might be embarrassed to admit to – helped by a promise nothing would be held against him (my own body excepted). I’m happy to say that due to the owner’s co-operation, no sexual organs were damaged in the compilation of this story.

 

There were a couple of paragraphs that my own modesty inclined me to omit. But Luke said they were critical to what I was after, so I’ve left them in. Sorry if they are a bit over the top.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

As Kate came out of the bathroom, she crossed the short space to where I was sitting and stood standing over me, just out of my line of vision to the TV.

 

From the moment I first met her – experienced her is probably a better word – Kate had struck me as an interesting one. On the spectrum of girls who hide their sexuality and feminine form on the one hand and display it out there for all the world to see, Kate was definitely right down the latter end of the spectrum. Her clothes were always just that bit too tight, bit too revealing, even a bit too bright for what the situation called for. Not tartish, just out there.

 

Friendly and tactile by nature, it is easy to be drawn to her.

 

And yet she seemed completely oblivious of the effect she had on every male who came within 100 metres of her orbit.

 

Tonight my eyes had been tracking her since she opened the bathroom door. How could they not, presented as she was? The camisole top was a loose fitting silken like creation. The triangles covering her breasts supported by thin straps which seemingly were too long; the peak of the triangles suggesting they were only just covering her nipples.

 

The front draped over her beautiful perky breasts and then fell straight down, leaving a considerable gap between the flesh of her exposed midriff, where her waist narrowed in the most womanly manner, and the fall of the silk.

 

The French knickers similarly draped loosely from their waistband across her hips; the short open legs teasingly offering the possibility of peaks where I shouldn’t be peaking.

 

She was stunning; slim, tall, flawless lightly olive skin, a cherubic like face, surf bleached blonde long hair with breasts that seemed just a little too large for her build and impossibly perky for their size. The two pieces of her outfit gave the impression that if I lay on the floor she would appear all but naked; surrounded but not covered by them. The golden thighs that emerged from her knickers were perfectly sculptured and so temptingly close.

 

In my mind I slid a hand up the soft flesh of one thigh and into her knickers.

 

I felt the start of a swelling in my boxer shorts with my manhood soon putting pressure on the previously loose material. “Down boy” I thought as I quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had escaped its prison and the buttonless fly hadn’t spread apart.

 

“Are you going to watch the movie?” She asked. I nodded as nonchalantly as I could.

 

She turned around and started to sit next to me, the centre seam of the knickers gathering in and pulling the material tightly against her ever so cute arse.

 

I knew I was manspread across the couch. I had a moment to decide whether to pull my arm back to my side, but the indecision determined the matter and she plonked down and laid her head against my shoulder, her hair cascading over my chest. I read the gesture as a friendly one – the action of someone relaxed in my company and was thankful for it even when she rested the hand between us on my thigh. I’ve seen her and Em do the same without the slightest sexual overtone.

 

Instinctively I brought the hand around her back down onto her shoulder, resting it lightly over the shoulder onto her upper chest.

 

As she settled next to me, my senses were flooded by a most wondrous scent. Too subtle to be perfume, lacking the sweetness than tends to be associated with soaps and deodorants. Whatever it was it was pure woman; permeating into the deepest most primitive sections of my brain to activate pleasure cells I’d never felt before.

 

I tried to keep my head pointed innocently at the TV while my eyes contorted to scan down the length of her body. I was instantly captivated.  The peak of her right breast and the nipple that lay beneath it was still covered, if only barely. On that side I was simply struck by the beautiful orb of the breast and the clear, perfectly smooth skin of its exposed upper surface. On the left, where she was cuddled against me, the string of the top had gone loose, letting the triangle of the top fall away slightly from its contact with her breast. The nipple was clearly visible as I looked down the top; a neat golden brown circle in perfect symmetry with the rest of the breast.

 

Separating the two breasts was a deep, wide, clear valley that conveyed a sexuality of youthful beauty all of its own.

 

Looking further down I could see the bikini bridge where the elastic of her knickers bridged the gap between her hips, offering an ever so tempting down pants view of her mons. But it was what lay below that that completely blew my mind. As she’d squirmed into a comfortable position on the seat, the centre seam of her knickers had ridden asymmetrically up into her front bottom, pulling the left leg hem aside. Her left labia was exposed, curled outwards by the fold of material to reveal just a hint of the inner surface.

 

My interest in the movie evaporated as I desired nothing more than to keep staring down at the wondrous sights that lay just under my gaze; not wanting to alert her to the unnatural attention I was giving her.

 

But at least one part of my body was betraying me. Almost instantly I’d felt the blood flooding into my cock, raising a full hard erection. Too quickly for me to take preventative action, it had escaped the confines of my boxer shorts and emerged out of the fly. It was now standing tall, proud and fully exposed. There was no way it was going away with Kate where she was. Even just to tuck it back in would require a major readjustment of position, which would just draw attention to it. She hadn’t said anything. Maybe in her focus on the movie, she hadn’t noticed it. Embarrassed and feeling a blush in my face I simply twisted slightly away from her and hoped for the best.

 

For maybe ten minutes Kate seemed to focus on the movie while I just perved down at her body, all the while hoping that she’d not notice either my deviant twisting of my eyeballs in her direction or the equally deviant exposure of my rampant manhood.

 

And that manhood was becoming something of a problem. It had an excitement all of its own. It wanted pussy – Kate’s pussy. I was fighting to stop it surging; that reaction you get when you tighten your pelvic floor muscles and it seemingly super inflates and arcs outwards, all while producing a rush of pleasure. It’s easy enough to make it surge and you can stop it surging if you really, really concentrate on doing so, but sometimes the need to let one rip is just irresistible. And there was already a glisten of pre-cum sitting on the tip.

 

I was completely torn. Do I make a move on her? It’s not as though I’m normally lacking the confidence to take the first steps to a sexual interaction. But that’s on dates where the rules of the game are a bit better understood. Kate’s a flatmate, and indeed, I’d like to think a friend. The rules are different. I did feel privileged to be treated in the relaxed way that she and Em had accepted me into the house. A false move could lose me more than I wanted to lose.

 

And part of what I didn’t want to lose right here and now was the intimate view I had of Kate.

 

In a way it was Kate who broke the cycle of mental crisis I was in. As I continued to look down the length of her body, it struck me her nipples had become completely raised. The right one had pushed out the material of her cami to create a fold all the way down the front of it. The exposed left one had reached out to almost bridge the gap to the cloth of the cami that had fallen away from it. Looking further down I could see a dark damp stain just starting to permeate the crotch of her knickers – or so I persuaded myself anyway.

 

I became convinced Kate was aroused too. That gave me the confidence to at least test the waters. I reached my hand further over her right shoulder and started stroking the smooth flesh on the upper surface of her breast; letting my fingers penetrate under the top but not actually touching her nipple. Kate didn’t pull away. With another brush I slid a finger across the top of her hard raised nipple. Still she didn’t pull away, so I let my hand cup her breast, feeling up her nipple between two of my fingers.

 

The next thing I know is I feel Kate’s head move on my shoulder. I looked at her to see her face angled up towards me, reaching out to my face, just the slightest pucker on her lips as her eyes closed. I moved my face hesitantly closer to hers until our lips made contact; first just a brush, one against the other, then a testing meeting of our lips before we gave way to our passions and our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

 

As Kate turned towards me, her right breast pulled away from the hand I had covering it. But almost immediately I feel her right hand swing around and encircle my erection; the embrace of the soft warm flesh of her fingers bringing a flood of pleasure to me – so much pleasure I felt I was in danger of cumming prematurely. It had been a while. I deeply regretted not having wanked more recently to relieve the pressure from what I feared would be my sudden rush to climax.

 

As we twisted around to face each other on the chair, all of our arms repositioned. Her left hand went behind my back while her right continued to pleasure my cock. My right hand now cupped her left breast; sliding up the length of her cami from below. Finally, my left hand moved into her crutch, at first just rubbing gently with an open hand on the outside of her by now very damp knickers before my fingers penetrated inside them for more intimate contact.

 

My fingers found her wet and slimy and had no problem locating and playing with her clearly engorged clit; occasionally slipping down to immerse themselves in the deep warmth of her now very open womanhood. Cute, feminine little “ohhh’s” soon started to reveal the extent of her arousal and that I was sort of getting it right with what I was doing.

 

After the first wave of mental relief from the torture of not knowing whether to make a move on her had passed, another arose. I didn’t know whether tonight would be a one off or the start of something deeper. I might have hoped for the latter, but there were two people in this deal and I wasn’t completely sure of Kate’s attitude.

 

Being in the friend zone with Kate had done my brain in and tortured my cock. She was a woman who just oozed her sexuality. If tonight was a one off, then I really wanted to see and play with her naked and I wanted my cock in her pussy. This stuff with fingers and hands was all very well, but I didn’t want it to be the end of it.

 

I soon achieved the nakedness. The wad of knicker material jammed up into her front bottom was making it really hard to finger her. I started to tug at the material with the fingers in there and she lifted her butt of the chair; inviting me to slip her pants off. I used the momentum of the undressing to take her top off too; letting me bend down to play with her nipples with my lips and tongue as well.

 

The cock in pussy issue had another problem. I was fighting hard just to keep myself from cumming as it was. She really knew how to tease up a guy’s cock with her hand. Already I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of things that upset me at Uni or non sexual moments of enjoyment; anything to stop the release that was building. I had my pelvic floor muscles basically constantly tensioned, trying to hold it in.

 

I knew if I put my cock anywhere near her pussy, it would just go off before it even made contact, painting me as a completely dud lover. I had to trust this would be the first act of a two act play; accept I was going to go off in her hand, make sure I gave her a good orgasm too and then move into the bedroom for more serious stuff.

 

In a way the decision was made for me. With an involuntary grunt, I came to her hand, squirting the stuff everywhere. Kate kept jerking it until she was satisfied she’d emptied the load, then wiped her hands on my t shirt and slipped it up inside my shirt to play with my chest.

 

Now the onus was on me.

 

The “ohhh’s” were becoming more frequent and a little louder. By now I had her nearly laid out on the couch; bending over her as I sucked one nipple and played with the second with my free hand, the other alternating rubbing her clit and occasionally penetrating her. With a hand around the back of my head, she had my mouth clamped hard enough onto her breast that I was having trouble breathing.

 

She was starting to squirm and buck under me. Then, suddenly, with a prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, she came, arcing her hips hard up against the weight of my body and swaying them from side to side. Her orgasm was lasting longer than I had seen in a girl before. I kept rubbing her clit – more gently than before – since that seemed to prolong it. She just started to seem to come down from the peak of her climax when, with another prolonged “ooooohhhhhh”, it started all over again, her hips thrust back against me. Then final, she pulled my hand away as her body relaxed back down on the lounge; closing her eyes. 

 

With my heart beating heavily in my chest, I waited, the soft sound of Kate’s panting in my ear. There was already another stirring in my loins.

 

I decided to make the move; putting it in a way that sounded like a foregone conclusion.

 

“Will we move into my bedroom to finish this?”

 

“I think my bedroom a bit tidier.”

 

Kate wasn’t wrong in that. If I know a girl’s likely to come over I fix it up a bit. But at the moment it was almost embarrassing to take a girl in there. I knew Kate’s was immaculate.

 

I stood up and offered her a hand to help her up off the settee; taking the chance to have another full length perve at the truly spectacular view of her naked body as I did so. Already my cock was sticking back out of my boxers; rigid in anticipation of what was coming.

 

As Kate stood against me, she screwed up her face in a mock imitation of someone confronted by something gross.

 

“I think we might get rid of these.”

 

Making a point of lifting it with two fingers of each hand – as if she was dealing with something truly unpleasant – she lifted my cum covered t shirt over my head and dumped it on the floor at the foot of the settee; where it joined the knickers and cami of hers already there.

 

“I wonder what Em will think of the mess if she comes home?”

 

With the same two fingers of each hand she tugged down the waist band of my boxers until their progress was halted by the erection emerging from the fly.

 

“I think we’re going to have to cut that off to finish undressing you; hang on, maybe we can just bend it out of the way.”

 

With that, Kate wrapped her hand around my erection and playfully bent it from the upright to pointing straight downwards to let my boxers drop at my feet. Then she pressed her body hard against me and kissed me, before leading me by the hand into her room.

 

“Do you mind if I go on top?”

 

Trust Kate to be so upfront about these things. Even as she asked, she’d turned me around and pushed me face up onto the bed; giving me a moment to swing my legs up and around so that I was sprawled along the length of it. Then she took a condom out of the drawer next to her bed and straddled my thighs while she rolled it on. That’s OK, it was my rule too. At least this time, as she’d handled my cock to take my boxers off and put the condom on, it didn’t have that feeling it was going to explode. It felt nice – actually it felt great – but it also felt under control.

 

Kate lay down on top of me, the tip of my cock lightly pushed against the floor of the valley of her front bottom.  I surged my cock, letting it slip along the length of the floor, looking for that point where the gentle contact was replaced by a warm damp void. Feeling like I’d found it, I pushed a little and was immediately rewarded by the sensation of the tip of my cock being captured by the opening to her womanhood.

 

With both of us pushing – she down, me up – I soon had myself buried in her; happy for a moment to just let my cock experience and feel the heat and pressure of being embraced by her body as we kissed. There’s a lovely pleasure to that first few moments of full penetration that I was in no hurry to move beyond.

 

Kate lifted herself up on her arms and then brought her legs up under her until she was actually sitting upright on me cowgirl style. Again I got to just stare up and the wondrous example of womanhood above me.

 

Kate is a competitive surf lifesaving Iron Woman competitor. Even in the couple of weeks I’ve lived with her I’ve seen how fit she keeps her body and had the fun of joining her in her runs. Kate has questioned why I often drop back into running Indian file style when we’re running together. In part it’s a habit I got into when someone else is on the path when I was running through the crowded downtown areas of my home town, even if it’s less necessary in Canberra.

 

But her unexpressed suspicions are correct. I let her run in front because the sight of her cute arse running in the spray on leggings she wears blows my mind. I’ve spent more than a little time looking and I’ll swear she’s got nothing on underneath. With the material of the leggings moulded deeply into the fold of her bum crack, even the top elastic of a thong would be pretty obvious. But there’s nothing; just the well-defined muscles of her glutes stretching and contracting as she runs. I know a lot of girls find it creepy to think of guys staring at them like that, but that sight could generate enough testosterone to run several illegal sports doping programmes.

 

Now as she sat on me I scanned up her body. Where our bodies joined she had a pronounced, hairless pubic mound. The feint outline of her tan line suggested she wore tiny little bikini bottoms to the beach and made me long for summer to come around soon.

 

Her stomach was washboard flat; with just the slightest hint of a six pack evident. Very feminine, but with an obvious strength to her core that most girls lacked.

 

And then there were her breasts. Those wonderful, beautiful breasts. As they stood out from her body, you felt you could take shelter under them in the rain. I’ve seen her bras hanging on the line. I know she’s a D cup (yes I looked!). I’m not talking about something grossly humungous here. I’m talking about an absolute perfection of the female form; proportions that are just slightly exaggerated enough to stand out from the crowd and whose youthful perkiness leaves one gasping for breath and cross legged in frustration. Each was capped by a flawless nipple, its golden brown colour offering an artistically stylish contrast to her naturally light olive skin; her arousal signalled by their rising into miniature volcanic cones.

 

And now, incredibly, I was making love to this woman. My cock lay deep within her body.

 

She started rocking back and forwards on me, rubbing her clit up and down on my pubis, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Instantly my hands were drawn up to her nipples. I fingered them gently, playing with their hardness and enjoying the movement of her breasts against my palms as she rocked on me with a growing sexual excitement.

 

My cock was surging inside her; seemingly trying to reach up and touch her cervix.

 

Kate had her eyes closed, staring slightly skyward. The cherubic features of her face seemed profoundly calm. From the slight circling of her lips there emanated a periodic “oohh”. She was no screamer, but the vocalisation of her arousal was no less exciting for that. It was so feminine, so womanly and conveyed so much in the way of sexual excitement that I felt my own arousal grow in response. 

 

Her tempo increased and with that the excitement her arousal conveyed to me.

 

I couldn’t resist them any longer. I curled my body up to let me take a nipple and good proportion of the underlying flesh of a breast into my mouth; swirling the nipple around with my tongue. Because of her upright stance over me, my stomach and back muscles were screaming with the strain; calling for relief. And yet the pain seemed worth it. Unable to hold it any longer, I slimed up her nipple with my saliva, moved across to the other breast and slimed it up too, then rested my head back down to let my fingers resume playing with her now wet nipples.

 

Kate was moving faster; her vocalisations no louder, but somehow more intense. He head had tilted progressively upwards, as if praying up to some god of orgasm.

 

As she came, she emanated a more prolonged and slightly louder “oooooohhhhhhh”, fell silent and let out another one. Her body curled over, resting on arms alongside my shoulders, her long hair was sensuously brushing across my chest. All the time her womanhood is contracting noticeably against my cock. Finally it stopped. She looked up and flashed me a large mischievous grin, then wordlessly started lifting herself up and down on me; deliberately pulsing her pussy against the erection inside her.

 

It felt great, but I have my own preferred way of finishing.

 

“Can we roll over?”

 

Grinning at me again, she lay down over the top of me and we embraced as, still joined, we reversed our position. All the while I’m desperately trying not to go off. I’ve done that before when changing positions with a girl on top sort. It’s not nearly as satisfying a climax and that’s even before allowing for the fact I miss out on the very thing I’m now looking for.

 

We get there and I lift myself up over her on my arms; my legs outside her closely pressed together ones. I look down and my cock swells at the sight under me. Kate’s laid out flat; her body mine for pleasuring myself in. Don’t over analysis this. It’s not a case of imagined dominance or forcing.

 

It is having control of the thrusting motion; its timing depth and angle. But above all it’s being able to admire the female I’m making love too and never have I been as fortunate to have under me a female as beautiful as this.

 

I try not to be entirely selfish, even if the girl has had her turn. I try a bit of a mushing action; pushing my pubis hard against her mound at the end of every stroke. To my joy, Kate didn’t just lie there like some inanimate object. With one hand on my bum and another sometimes around my back, sometimes caressing my chest, she encouraged me, giving what I read as hints about speed and forcefulness to help her enjoy it too.

 

I soon had her body jiggling under me, her breasts rocking back and forwards in a distracting manner. Her eyes were closed again and I could just see the start of that gorgeous “o” face starting to form on her seductive lips. All the while she’s still pulsing that pussy down on my cock. I was loving it; hoping it would go on forever and that I’d just bring Kate to orgasm after orgasm.

 

That was in my dreams. Too soon that moment came when I knew it was about to happen. There’s something entirely instinctive about what I always tend to do next. I know I’m doing it, but it all seems to be on auto-pilot; something I can’t stop. I stop thrusting, pushing myself in as deeply as possible. There’s a long groan as I ejaculate; simultaneously lowering myself down next to her face, I lie there just enjoying the feel of my cock pumping out its load.

 

If I’m lucky I might have a desire to have another couple of thrusts and feel a bit more pumping out. Then if I’ really lucky I’ll feel this need to jiggle it a little bit as if I’m trying to squeeze out the last little drops of the stuff all with an intense burst of pleasure.

 

That night with Kate I’d count as the best orgasm – the best sex – I’d had to that time.

 

As I lay there on top of her I was in no hurry to get off. For a while, my cock was still completely firm inside her and it still felt great. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments, but I knew I was starting to shrink. The moment came when I had to withdraw and roll off her.

 

Guys sometimes get bad press for wanting to get up and run away from a girl the minute they’ve finished screwing her. That was the last thing I wanted with Kate that night. I wasn’t sure where this was meant to be going, but I didn’t want to leave the moment I found myself in. Even with a full condom dangling off the end of my now flaccid dick, all I really wanted to do was stay cuddled up to her; even just fall asleep in her arms.

 

But practically speaking, the condom had to be dealt with and with Kate’s door still open, that closed before Em came home.

 

There was yet another moment of mental torture as I worked out the best way to stay.  I figured it was better to openly deal with it all earlier rather than later. If I waited, Kate might be more likely to take it as the time for me to move back to my room. If I dealt with it now, the question of me going back to my room might never come up.

 

I gave her another kiss and whispered,

 

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

Before she could reply, I broke contact, got up and went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. Then I came back into the room, closed the door behind me and slipped back into the bed; cuddling up to Kate again as I pulled the covers over us both. I’d made my statement. Now Kate would actually need to ask me to go.

 

She didn’t. Our bodies progressively relaxed against each other until Kate rolled over and spooned her back against me, pulling my arm across her chest to let my hand cup a breast and raise up the nipple capping it.

 

I like spooning. I’m a big fan of it. But there is one problem, and that’s what to do with the erection that inevitably results when you’re the big spoon. By the time you allow for leaving a space between your upper bodies for the arm trapped between them, unless it is in contact with her, you’re not really spooning at all – just lying in close vicinity.

 

If the girl is completely naked, its natural home feels like it ought to be embraced in the warm fold of her bum crack. But that’s very personal if you’re trying to sleep. Personal for the girl, but also for the guy. After all it leaves his erection in a warm tight embrace on almost all sides. He’s not human if he doesn’t soon start to get the urge to slip it between her legs into the fold of her front bottom instead; if not do a lot more than that.

 

I’ve always tended to what I thought was a compromise of pushing it against the flesh of her upper glute. It feels nice without creating that sense that I’m demanding more sex from the girl; something you can sustain even as you doze off to sleep. But it’s really hard to stop surging it; something you just know the girl is feeling.

 

We spent the night cuddled together like that. Occasionally we’d reverse positions when our waking cycle was synchronised. The optimist in me hoped that Kate’s hand would wrap itself around my cock, in much the same way mine always found itself cupping her breast. But that was in my dreams. In practice her hand also rested across my chest.

 

And then about 5 in the morning, I was lying in the big spoon position; pushed against her back. I could feel her erect nipple pushing out between two fingers of the hand cupped over her lower breast. Half asleep, I’d given up fighting the urge to stop my erection from surging into her glute; letting one rip and enjoying the pleasure of it whenever my cock called for it.

 

Suddenly, Kate spun in my arms; lying face to face with me. Before I could treat it as a reversal of position and roll over and present my back to her, I felt Kate’s hand wrap itself around my erection, the other one sheathing it in a condom. How she’d got it and opened it without me knowing, I don’t know; although I noticed in the morning that a couple of them had been spilt out across the top of her bedside table.

 

Barely before I worked out what’s happening, Kate’s slipped it between her legs and I’m fully penetrated in her again. Still waking up, I surrender to Kate’s push to let her roll on top of me. Her action this time is less energetic; as if she’s sleepwalking through the whole thing. At first she is just lying on top of me, her legs spread wide apart outside mine as she moves up and down. Then as her excitement builds, she lifts herself up on her arms, pushing harder down against my pubis as she rubs herself on me.

 

She must have been really aroused before it all started, because it was all over in minutes as she quietly came and collapsed sprawled over the top of me; her contractions pummelling my erection. I was actually rather enjoying the feeling of Kate’s embrace of my cock and the pressure of her body lying over me like a blanket. I could feel the hard buttons of her nipples pushing into my chest in the centre of the circle of warm breast flesh she had pressed against mine.

 

For a moment I was even tempted just to let her fall back asleep on top of me; although that was probably an impractical half asleep thought.

 

The next best idea was to finish myself. Kate responded to my rolling action, letting her body fall off mine and using the momentum to lay over on her back to let me mount her; all without losing any penetration.

 

In the half moonlight, I raised myself on my arms again and looked down as I started pounding her. Her eyes were closed. It was almost as if she’d fallen asleep again, although I could feel her hand on my butt offering gentle encouragement.

 

Her body, even her womanhood, was just relaxed. She wasn’t pulsing against me this time. As I looked down on the beautiful body – the beautiful woman – I was making love to, it was like I was rag dolling her. Her body was jiggling up and down; her breasts wobbling to my action. I brought my knees up under me, to take my weight on my own haunches, lifting her hips up to me; all to multiply the effect.

 

It felt like my cock was swelling to bursting point with the visual treat laid out under me. Kate had managed to keep things quiet. I failed, grunting with the effort and excitement until my cock exploded out its load with a massive flood of pleasure that embraced my whole being. Then I lay down on top of her as the little shudders of after pleasure did their thing.

 

Silently, Kate gave me a smile, pulled my face to hers to give me a kiss, then rolled me off her, letting my still firm erection slip out of her in the process. Lying facing me, I’ll swear she was back asleep again in minutes; leaving me to wonder what to do about the condom.

 

I was going to get up again in 45 minutes. I did nothing, leaving it dangling off my flaccid cock as I willed myself back to sleep, to find it still dangling off the end of a night erection when I woke again.

 

The question we faced of course, was what Em would think of all of this. It’s not as though she didn’t have a boyfriend, or even that our sleep hadn’t been disturbed by their noisy lovemaking on the nights he stayed over. Still, in a three person household, two of you aren’t really meant to hook up like this. It’s sort of an unwritten rule.

 

Em had come home to discover the mixed pile of underwear next to the settee in the lounge room, Kate’s door closed and mine open with the room vacant. You didn’t need a PhD to work out what had happened. And yes, she’d heard my 5 am grunting too. She’s a good sport. She got over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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