The Morning After

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A man reflects on a confusing encounter with his roommate.
4.8k words
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 03/25/2018
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"You can stay with me, it's no problem."

"You sure? I don't want it to get weird."

"What would be weird about this? It's just two friends living together."

"I know. . . but all it takes is one drunken night."

"What do you mean?"

"You know. It's a classic guy-girl situation. One drunken night and it all falls apart. You either hook up or move out."

"So you're saying I can't drink around you?"

"What? No! I'm not saying that at all. I'm just saying, there's sitcom potential here. Something that airs on Thursdays at 8PM, 7 Central, of course."

"Of course."

"Right. Okay. Let me think on it? I promise I'll get back to you."

"Okay. And for what it's worth? I think you'd be a great roommate."

*****

That's how it started. So innocuous. Krista invited me to live with her when I found out I had to move back to the city. I didn't have many friends around any more, and my parents were. . . well, let's just say they weren't in the picture.

Krista was all I had, and she knew it. I knew it too, and that's why I didn't have a problem saying yes.

Well. That wasn't the only reason.

See, Krista is kind of beautiful. She's a history student by day, some kind of graduate scholar, with a focus on the reigns of various popes. While that may not be particularly sexy in and of itself, she is. She's a gym rat who's spent much of her life sculpting her body to look exactly how she wants it.

The last time I saw her, it was at a board game night with some friends. She walked in after a workout in shorts and a sports bra. Both were impossibly tight across her, her high round tits pushed higher by the bra. She had thrown a sweater over it, but I could see the way the sweat had collected in her cleavage. I remember practically drooling, and that was before I saw her legs, which were long and toned and barely covered by the thigh-length shorts that stretched across her cute little ass.

Sorry to be crude. It's not my intention, but I hope it gets you into the mindset of how this girl works on me. She's hot as hell, but she's also super cool. She guided me through a lot of the academic problems I found myself facing during my undergrad. We were in a couple of courses together, and she was always eager to be a study buddy.

There were a few moments where I wondered if she wanted something more, but I never found myself with enough courage to ask her. I'd look at her eyes, the way her auburn hair seemed to frame her face. . . and then I'd just peter out.

She once asked me why I wasn't seeing anyone. I told her that I was waiting for someone special, that I didn't want to have sex with just anyone. That I wanted it to matter. And for the most part, this was true.

I mean, don't get me wrong. I had my fantasies, and acted on some of them as well. I just hated how empty they left me once they were over. One exhalation, and that was it. I wanted to keep breathing.

As for Krista, she dated a few guys. Don't worry; I'm not going to be some loser, claiming that none of them were good enough for her. Truthfully, they were all pretty cool. She's a smart, beautiful woman, and she knew herself well enough to find people that matched her. I even became friends with some of them, though I never spoke to them after Krista and them broke up.

Eventually I moved away, as people always do. I didn't think I would see Krista again. Part of me wondered if something might have happened there, but we never spoke about it. It felt like too much work, too much risk for so much potential pain. We fell apart, and I thought that was it.

But then I lost my job. I had to move back to the city.

Luckily for me, Krista was there.

*****

Move-in day was the beginning of my problems.

I barely had anything to move in, but Krista had had a spare bedroom. She promised me that the bed was soft, and there was enough room for me to write at a desk.

When I knocked on the door, Krista greeted me in a bubble-blue bikini top. Her tits were round and perky, and I could tell she'd been working out. She was wearing a loose pair of sweats to go with it, but my head was already buzzing.

"Hey! Welcome!" She smiled and jumped at me for a hug. I hugged her back. I had forgotten how good she was at hugging. Somehow, she pressed her entire body into mine. It felt like she was folded into me. Like she fit just right. I felt every curve and every muscle pressing against my own. I caught a whiff of her hair, some floral scent that I couldn't identify.

I realized then that my cock was hardening, and I promptly decided that this hug needed to end.

"Hi, Krista!" I said, pushing her out by the shoulders. I hoped it was casual. "Thanks again for letting me stay here."

She smiled at me. It lit up her whole face, her high cheekbones lifting like empty rainclouds. Then she looked down, realizing for the first time what she was wearing.

"Shit!" she said. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to see me like this. I was just working out, and sometimes I get so sweaty, so I-"

I raised a hand. "Don't worry, Krista. Really. It's nothing I haven't seen."

Krista raised an eyebrow playfully. "What d'you mean, nothing you haven't seen? You got nudes of me somewhere that I haven't heard about? Who gave them to you? Was it Bryan?" She feigned false outrage.

"Nah, not Bryan," I said, deciding to play along. "Not sure if I can remember. . . there's been so many, after all." I winked at her.

"You fucker!" she laughed, punching me lightly in the arm. "I'm not as big of a slut as you think I am!"

"You are a slut, though."

"Undoubtedly, yes." She said this last part with utter calm, throwing me off-kilter.

"What?"

"I'm just fucking with you, dummy." She laughed again. "Or am I?" Before I could respond, she continued: "Here, follow me. I'll show you to your room." She waved me down the hall after her. I followed her.

I don't know much for certain, but I'm positive she was wiggling her ass as she walked.

Nobody's butt moves that perfectly.

*****

This was the first of many encounters, ones that had me wondering whether this tenuous situation could last. I'll skip past most of them, as they were largely uneventful and probably were me misconstruing different situations. This next one wasn't, and it's what eventually led to me writing this record. I need to lay it all out and see what comes next.

*****

The autumn was quiet. Krista and I had become closer and closer, and we began to share stories from previous relationships.

That's not weird, right? That's what friends do. They tell dumb stories about exes to help them process the pain. It's a tale as old as time, and I was in the middle of a really good yarn.

"-This is where the story gets weird, okay? Just stick with me."

"Sure thing, man." Krista was smiling at me. She swallowed another sip of her beer, letting down her hair with her other hand. It carried down to her shoulders and cradled her face. The loose tank that she wore was drooping forward, and I could see the smallest circle of pink at the tip of her breast. I chose not to mention it, carrying on instead in my story.

"Okay. So I'm at my mom and dad's with Leigh, and she starts rubbing the crotch of my pants hard. Like really hard. And she starts moaning, more intensely than I've ever heard her do before."

"Sounds like she wanted it."

"Yeah, she did. Really badly. Given what she was doing to me, I started to want it too. And mom and dad are away. . ."

"Oh god."

"Don't judge me."

"I already am."

"Don't!"

"What did you do?"

"What any normal person would do. . . I brought her to my parents' bedroom. And we had sex on their bed."

"That's so fucked up."

"I know. If it helps, it wasn't like full-on naked sex. I just kind of hitched up her skirt and did her from behind."

"That doesn't help." Krista didn't seem that disturbed, though. If anything, she seemed turned on. Was she biting her lip? No. I was sure she wasn't. That wouldn't make any sense.

My head swam. I didn't realize how drunk I was.

"She had a great ass, though," said Krista.

"Who?"

"Leigh. She had a great ass. Good for doggy style, I bet."

"Yeah, it was." I sighed, wistful. "It was for the best that it ended, though. She wanted more from me than I could give." I trailed off here, unsure of what to say next. There was a silence. Different than the ones that had come before. This was the silence of comfort between friends.

There was nothing about this that was awkward at all.

I smiled at Krista. Her lips looked so full. Suddenly, I found myself longing to kiss them. To kiss down her neck, kissing at her breast, until I took the nipple full in my mouth, where it would become hard and she would begin to gasp and moan and writhe an-

"I have a story for you," said Krista, waking me from my drunken daydream.

"Oh, do tell." I'm sure I sounded as suave and charming as I felt.

"I had a boyfriend that hated blowjobs."

"What? How is that possible? That's like, as good as it gets."

"I know. It was weird, because I love giving them."

It was then that I realized Krista was as drunk as me. Surely this isn't the kind of thing that she'd want to share with me. Not a chance. But I was too drunk to protest, to try to push her off. So I nodded instead.

"That's. . . good," I said, unsure what else to say.

She smiled. "I know, I know. Not every girl loves sucking cock. Some hate it, and I feel for their boyfriends. But look at it this way: do you like eating a girl out?"

"What? Yeah, of course I do."

"Why do you like it so much?"

I considered. "I like being that connected to her. Having my face right there. Knowing that each move I make, each flick of my tongue. . . that it brings her closer to finishing. I love knowing that when she gasps, or when she moans, it's because of me. I love it when she gets close and I can feel her getting tense. . ." I trailed off. "Oh. I see what you're saying."

"Yeah," said Krista. "Blowjobs get a bad rap. Maybe that's 'cause society sees 'em as a bad thing, always telling people that they should 'suck their dicks' and so on. It's not like that. When I do it, it's an act of love."

"Right," I said. Hard to know where to go on from there. I decided to bring it around again. "What happened to the boyfriend?"

"Eventually, I gave it up. I couldn't get over it. I even let him cum in my mouth, and he still wouldn't do it. Too weird, he said. He just wanted to have anal, which isn't really for me."

"Right, I hear you. It isn't for me either." Then I paused, realizing. "You let him cum in your mouth, and he still wasn't into it?"

"Nope. Not at all. And it's weird, because I prefer it, so I just get more turned on. I just figure it's cleaner that way, you know?"

I was totally bowled over, and I didn't hide it well. The image of Krista giving head was too much, and that was before I thought of cumming in her mouth. I could feel my cock growing, and I knew it was time to leave before things got too weird.

"Well, I think it's time for bed." Real subtle stuff, here.

Krista looked worried. "Did I go too far?"

"No, no. I'm just really tired. Work and all, you know."

"Right, right." She rubbed her arm, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

I entered my room and laid down on my bed. My cock was throbbing, but I waited until I heard Krista flick the lights out and close her door before I pulled it out.

For the first time in a long time, I found myself uninterested in porn. I began to stroke my dick, and I envisioned Krista running her tongue along my shaft. Watching the way it gently glided up and down. The way her head would bob in rhythm. The mischievous look I was sure she would give before taking me fully in her mouth.

It felt like the first time again. Masturbating hadn't been this good in forever.

But then I heard a noise. I paused, dick still in hand. I got up and walked to the adjoining wall. I held my breath and listened closely. I heard another moan, and a faint buzzing.

Krista.

I started stroking my dick in time to her moans. I was still standing, but I didn't care. Knowing she was as turned on as me helped. It pushed me along. I pictured her lying in her bed, not even having changed out of her clothes from that night. Playing with her nipples, running the vibrator along her clit, panties pulled to the side. The way her back arched as she moaned.

I know. I could have knocked on her door. I probably would have been successful. . . but this isn't a porno. This happened, and she mattered to me. So I was afraid, and I stayed there in the dark, alone.

I came when she did, her rising moans matching the increasing speed of my hand along my dick. I barely held back my own cries as I sprayed cum across my floor. I kept stroking even as I came, not wanting the sensation to end. But eventually, it did. I cleaned up my mess, then crawled into bed, feeling more alone than ever.

*****

Neither of us spoke about that night again. I think we both felt awkward, but I can't say for sure if she knew that I had heard that night, so maybe not. We just carried on with our lives. We watched movies together, played video games together. Went out, sometimes with friends, sometimes apart.

Neither of us dated, though we couldn't say why. We blamed the economy, like that somehow made a difference.

It all came to a head around Christmas. We had a big party, or wanted to, anyway. It kind of whimpered out. You know how those things go with friends. One person says they can't make it, then another. Eventually, it's two friends who show up for two hours then head out. Enough time to get wine-drunk, but little else.

They said goodbye, then we were alone.

"I wish this had gone differently," I said.

"I know," said Krista. "Me too."

We stood in the dull glow of the lights we had hung. A fire crackled in our small fireplace, and soft Christmas carols wound their way through the halls of our home. The table was a mess, but the bad kind. It was covered with plates of uneaten food.

"Do you want to deal with this now?" I asked.

"No," said Krista.

"Good. You wanna sit down?"

"Yes."

We sat down on the couch together, closer than either of us might have expected. There was this dull sort of feeling in the air, but I couldn't pinpoint it. I shifted on the couch.

Then I asked the question that pushed it beyond the point of no return.

"Do you want to cuddle?" I asked.

"What?"

"Cuddle. Not like, in a romantic way. People like to be close, there's nothing wrong with that. I don't know about you, but I could use a little closeness right now." I shrugged. "If it's weird, we can stop."

Krista nodded. "Okay, sure. Sounds fun." She shifted her position so that she sat in the crook of my arm. She wiggled her butt adorably as she settled into place. We sat there for a moment. I ran my fingers along her arm lightly, just enjoying the feel of her skin. She shivered, but didn't pull away. I could smell her, that same undefinable scent of flowers. It hovered in the air around us, lulling me, with the help of the wine, into a state of near-sleep.

I think Krista must have felt that way too, because she sounded drowsy when she asked, "do you ever think about why some people are alone?"

"What do you mean?"

She sat up a little, looking at me intently. She didn't look so sleepy anymore. Her eyes were wide and her gaze fierce. "Why do some people find others so easily, where others spend their whole lives looking and failing?" Back down again into my arm. She nuzzled into my neck. "I don't get it," she said, her words muffled. "It's not fair."

I paused for a long moment before I responded. "I don't know why some people are alone. I mean, some want to be that way. Others, not so much. I used to think that there was someone for everyone. Now, I'm not so sure." Another pause. It felt as though I was outside myself. "What I do know," I said, taking her chin in my hand, "is that we're never alone so long as someone cares for us."

Krista looked back at me. Her eyes were wet, but I don't know if it was from tears or was just the light of the fire in them. Then we were kissing. I don't know who started it. It just happened. And then it didn't stop happening. Her lips were on mine and then her mouth opened and our tongues were probing against one another, flicking and dancing against each other, licking the others' lips playfully. I bit her lip gently and she moaned, a low hot breath into my mouth.

As I was kissing her, I had taken her wrists in hand and pushed her back gently against the couch. She reclined easily and wriggled her body against mine. I could feel my cock growing hard, and she must've too, because she started to grind her hips slowly against mine. It was my turn to moan then, caught off guard by the forwardness of her movements.

Then her shirt was off. Krista wore no bra, her pale breasts glowing in the firelight. The nipples were a delicate pink and were hard and pointing towards me. Never one to wait, I obliged, dipping my head towards them. I took one of her tits in my mouth, lapping my tongue around her nipple. I loved the way it seemed to respond to my touch, bending back and forth like a small tree against oncoming winds. Krista moaned again and tried to raise her hips again. I pushed them down with my free hand, then raised my tongue to her ear. I wanted her to feel my breath against it.

"I've wanted this for so long," I said.

"Me too," she moaned. "Let me up, though. I need to feel your cock on my clit. Please." She was practically begging.

I kissed her ear, looped my tongue around it. Sucked on it. "You're mine, Krista. That means I'm in charge of your pleasure. You'll cum when I say you can cum, and not a moment before." I smiled. "That's how it's gonna be." Krista pulled her head back. Her eyes were filled with lust, her hair pooling around her naked shoulders. The room was so warm, but she was warmer. Her hips rubbed softly against my own.

"You think you're in charge?" she asked. She was practically winking now. "I'll show you who's in charge." Then she stole her hand from behind my back, bringing it forward and down into my pants, grabbing my cock firmly, stroking it, teasing it.

She couldn't reach that far down from her position, but it was enough. I had already been busting out of my pants, but the added pleasure of her fingertips racing across my cock-head was quickly becoming too much.

"Take me out," I said.

"What?" She asked. "I can't hear you."

"Krista, please. This is too much. I need your hand on me. I need you on me. Fully. Please."

Krista smiled, then put a hand on my chest, pushing me back the other way against the couch. "That's better," she said. As I moved, she pulled my pants down. Then off. My cock thrust high and free, and she sighed a little as she saw it. I tore my shirt off, not wanting to look weird.

She wrapped her hand around it. Considered it. Jerked it lightly, laughed a little as the pre-cum began to drip onto her hand. I couldn't focus. I just wanted more. I didn't want to beg, either, though. I needed her to do this. I needed her to do what she needed to do.

After a torturously long time, she wrapped her hand fully around me, stroking me up and down. I let out a guttural sound, one that I can't identify, and relaxed for the first time. She was stroking me fully, long strokes that cupped my balls at the end, making me long for more.

I think Krista must've been able to tell, though, because that's when she brought her head down, bringing my cock fully into her mouth. Whatever pleasure I had felt before-that was nothing compared to this. I'm fairly large, but Krista wasn't worried about taking all of me like some women. Instead, she kept one hand on my cock while her mouth covered the rest. It was impossibly warm and incredibly tight. She bobbed her head up and down, but I resisted the urge to put my hand on the back of her head. I still wanted her to be in control, for me to feel what she wanted me to feel.

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