The Unwritten Rules Ch. 01

Diary Entry 16/01/2012

They say as boys grow up all they think about is sex and pussy. Seven days a week, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, it's always on their minds.

In this case, the boy is a girl and that hot juicy pussy is a long, hard dick. But not just any ol' dick. Oh no!

There's one special dick belonging to one special man I desire.

A forbidden man.

A man who sees nothing of the quavering mess of desire I hide as my pussy pants and sucks at emptiness, my mind playing a high definition cinematic portrayal of me sinking at his feet and worshiping his shaft. Never has he suspected the fantasies I harbor of stroking and licking his masterful cock until his thick cum erupts onto my waiting tongue.

Why would he when I play the role of unassuming friend in his presence only to stroke between my thighs as his name whispers on my trembling lips behind closed doors?

No one else does.

And that's the way it will stay until the day my inner lioness roars to life and confesses the salacious nature of my feelings. But while she lays dormant, I vow to suck his cock clean and be a dirty, dirty girl in the dark recesses of my mind!

****

"Hey! Get your lazy behind out here or I'm going to drink all the coffee."

The threat makes me sit up in bed just as the annoying tool that signals morning beeps. My head instantly shrieks a protest and my eyes close against the light coming through the open window, the curtains blowing in the warm breeze.

I closed them last night.

Grumbling at Yuri's sneakiness, I automatically slap at the alarm clock like I did a few minutes before and flop back onto the mattress, pulling my pillow over my head.

A consummate night owl, "not a morning person" does not begin to describe my temperament most mornings and I am downright cruel without that first sip of coffee. Therefore, it is no surprise that I have been late for more than one appointment in my lifetime.

My roommate, best friend and general pain in the butt, Yuri Alvin sees it as his mission to get me out of bed and at work at what he calls a "decent hour" since we moved in together four years before.

He takes his job way too seriously.

His only saying grace is his magnificent skills at making coffee just the way I like. That and the fact that my punctuality saved me from losing more than one client since I started my bakery/catering business last year. Otherwise no one would find the body after I was done with him.

The soft bass of his voice comes through the half opened door as he sings slightly off tune to the oldies jam playing on the radio. I burrow my head deeper into the covers with another grumble. No one should be that cheerful in the morning even if he has a voice that can turn the entire glacial system into a giant puddle. His accent makes everything sound just a little better, something I find entirely unfair especially when I am mad at him.

"Bri!" he calls, banging a spoon against a pan.

"I'm up. I'm up," I yell the lie with as much energy as I can muster at the hour through a tiny opening in my makeshift pillow barricade.

Just one more minute...

"Brianne, don't make me come in there."

At the memory of the last time that happened, I push the covers aside with a muttered expletive. I will never look at a water pistol the same way again but then, neither will Yuri thanks to the split lip he earned for his efforts.

Feet safely encased in big bunny slippers, I throw a robe over the large T-shirt with an "I'm Tripping You If Zombies Are Chasing Us" warning across the front and lumber across the room. I am tempted to go out there with what was sure to be poofy hair and funky morning breath but female vanity pushes common sense at my still sleeping brain and I cross to our shared bathroom down the hall.

I do not glance in Yuri's direction. If I see the smile sure to be on his face, the Miami homicide statistics will be up a notch.

Teeth brushed, the boogers cleared out of my eyes and a few brush strokes through my shoulder length curls later, I cross the length of the apartment. The kitchen and living room are separated by a horizontal island where Yuri leans, his bare feet stretched out in front of him and his fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee.

Amber colored eyes twinkle behind small framed glasses as his lips twitch suspiciously. He passes me a cup of coffee which I take gratefully and says, "Good morning, sleepyhead. I see your sunny morning disposition isn't improving any."

Ignoring him, I adopt his pose and take that first sip.

There are certain things that make life worth living and though I have been told my priories are whooped, coffee is definitely near the top of my list. My eyes roll back in my head and I moan as the black liquid sweetened by precisely two cubes of sugar hit my tongue. The taste, the aroma, the rich, dark color, the kick that powers every single cell every time I take a sip, I love everything about coffee. It is my addiction and I freely admit it.

Yuri's chuckle forces my eyes open.

Full length jeans cover his long limbs and an unbuttoned plaid shirt is folded over his forearms. From his belly button, a thin line of hair runs down to disappear into the low hanging pants. His chest is smooth otherwise, the hardness of his pecs decorated by two small brown nipples.

Suddenly I feel far more awake and my cells stirred with heat that has nothing to do with coffee. Ignoring the sensation, I continue to study him under a hooded gaze.

The tanned quality of his skin shows his mixed heritage. Born to a Brazilian mom and a father of Jamaican descent, Yuri was born and raised in Maryland. His family moved to Miami when he was nine years old. We met in the fifth grade and have been best friends since I kneed a bully in the nuts for knocking him down.

His eyes are darker now though the teasing smile still plays along his lips. I notice the way he smells then. Hot, clean male and forest scented soap. It laces with the vapors coming off my cup and makes it brighter, more potent. Hundreds of times more addictive.

"In the land of the living yet?" he asks with a flash of straight, toothpaste commercial teeth that took years of orthodontist visits to perfect.

"Barely," I groan and take another sip of coffee. "Why does it feel like I only closed my eyes a few minutes ago?"

"Maybe because you went to bed late last night?" he gestures at my still open laptop and notes lying on the couch. "These last nights are bound to catch up to you."

"I had to take care of some last minutes details for a corporate event Lovely and I are catering later."

Lovely St. Rose is my business partner and friend. Quite obviously the talent of our small business since I can't boil an egg without running the pot dry, Lovely left the business end of things to me and we've made quite a growing success out of what so many doomed a failure.

"I'm glad business is doing so well but it's okay to take some down time, you know." He lightly bumps my shoulder with his and sends me a worried look.

"I know. I just really want this to work. I'm finally taking control of my life and-" I stop my tirade quickly as he watches me quietly. "I'll take a vacation soon, I promise," I finish in a tone that is too bright even to my ears.

"I'm proud of you, kiddo. You know that, don't you?"

"I know."

He is one of the few people who believed I could do this.

"Good." He bumps my shoulder again and steers me toward our small dining table. "I saved you some breakfast," he says, getting a plate from the microwave.

My stomach grumbles at the smell of bacon and eggs. "God, you're too good to me. What would I do without you?" I moaned, biting into a crispy piece of bacon.

"I think you'd do okay. Besides, you're too easy to please," he replies, sitting in the chair opposite me.

"Says the man who gets excited every time a new episode of Man Caves comes on."

A consummate geek, Yuri is an avid gamer, anime watcher and all around computer expert, his job as a network security administrator a testament to the fact. Absolutely horrible at fixing anything that did not come with software, he got his alpha male fix by watching the DIY Network religiously but especially loved that show.

"Hey, that's a really good show," he protests with a wounded expression. "You have to admit it's extremely informative and I swear that cabinet came with all the wrong screws."

Last week, he gave into the sudden urge to build something and bought a ready to assemble cabinet for the office we shared. After hours of grumbling, he admitted defeat and allowed me to help. We finished three hours, several bumped knees and lots of swear words later and still have several screws left.

"If you say so." Liberally buttering my toast, I took a bite. "You missed it last night, by the way. I tivoed it for you. Was everything okay? I didn't hear you come in."

He usually called when he was going to be late.

"Thanks. I got caught up at work then Berry and I went back to her place."

"Oh," I say, averting my gaze.

He has been dating the aspiring model for the past two months. She is a tall, ebony goddess with an ass that made even the female population have to take a second look. Every time we happened to be in the same room, which was not often, she always placed a possession hand on Yuri and sent subtle glares my way. It is a scenario I am used to. While Yuri's nerdy persona put off many girls in high school, his sudden physical transformation from pimple faced and scrawny to tall, dark and handsome got him noticed more often than not now.

"Did you wait up?"

At his tone I look up and the intensity of his gaze traps me.

Always.

Pushing the stray thought away, I snort, "I've got better things to do, Yuri."

"Well, excuse me," he says, his stare still too intense for my comfort. I am ready to squirm in my seat when he releases me and glances at his wrist. Standing, he states, "I've got to get to work."

He stands and heads for the bathroom. I look down at my breakfast to avoid looking at the way his jeans mold his behind. I have almost been caught on one to many occasions.

"We're out of milk and eggs. Can you get some on your way home?" Yuri calls as he emerges bare chested. I stuff a forkful of eggs in my mouth, thankful when he disappears into his bedroom.

"Sure," I yell back around the eggs.

"We still on for tonight?"

It's our tradition to watch a movie together at least one Friday every month. Though we can simply stream something on Yuri's outrageously large flat screen television, we like to do it the old labor intensive way and search through the video store for good DVDs. It is amazing how hard those are to come by.

"Yup but we're not watching another zombie or end of the world movie," I informed him, not having to wait long for his expected outburst.

"Aw come on, Bri," he whines, popping his head out of his room. "How can you not love all the gush and gore. That's the mark of a good movie."

"No, that's just a recipe for giving me indigestion."

He rolls his eyes before he disappears again. "God, you're such a girl."

"Keep the insults coming and we'll be watching The Notebook again."

"Uhhh," I hear the fear in that long drawn out syllable and smirk. "You're such a man?"

I laugh and he joins me.

A long sleeved fitted tee replacing the shirt, boots on and laptop bag sling from shoulder to hip, he emerges minutes later as I get up to rinse my dishes. Gathering the keys to his jeep, he stuffs his pockets with other little essentials. Looking at his watch, he points a stern finger at me. "You have exactly thirty three minutes to get to work. Don't be late."

"Yes, dad."

"And don't kill anyone on the way there either," he says, referring to my driving skills which even I have to admit is a hazard to the general population on the best of days.

"Ha ha," I reply sarcastically. "Really funny."

He takes a half bow. "I do my best."

Dodging my halfhearted tap, he kisses the tip of my nose- a habit he developed in our high school years-and heads for the door. It closes softly behind him.

In the bathroom, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Red shoulder length hair, green eyes, freckles over my cheeks, a combination someone once called totally unmemorable. At five foot two inches on plump female, I know I am no bombshell but I am comfortable with me, a process that took me many, many years to achieve.

Taking my robe off, I place it on the hook behind the door and pull the cotton over my head. The bikini panties came off next and as I place the items in the laundry basket I spot Yuri's plaid shirt.

Bringing the material against my face, I inhale and let myself dream.

****

He comes in shirtless, his jeans unbuttoned and riding low. Just as always, he was nude beneath and the head of his erect penis peeks above the lowered zipper. It glistens and I can almost taste the spicy heat of him.

I lick my suddenly dry lips.

His eyes follow the movement with an intensity that echoes loudly and mimics the too fast beating of my heart.

Caught in his spell, I watch his confident strut as he leisurely invades my space. His scent is heady, making my inner walls flutter wildly. His eyes blaze over me in a hot, possessive sweep and I feel like the sexiest woman alive. My nipples pucker in reaction and a warm flush spreads from head to toe.

He stops a few inches away. Holding my gaze, he tangles his fingers in the slightly darker curls manicured into a neat line at the top of my mound. His middle finger separates my nether lips on a path that leads to my gushing well. The roughened skin trails over my clit.

I grab the edge of the vanity to keep me from melting into a puddle and bite my lips.

His fingers come away dewy with the evidence of my arousal. He trails his fingers across my thigh, up over my quavering tummy and over the full cups of my breasts, leaving a shiny line in their wake. Drawing circles around my nipples, he coats them with the creamy substance. "Been thinking about me?"

The digits trail back down to my sex. My hips strain into his touch and he penetrates my core with deliberate slowness. "You know I have," I pant.

"I've been thinking about you too." He pulls his finger back only to return with a second.

"Yeah?" is all I can manage. I widen my stance and he pumps his fingers into me, his thumb tracing a small distance away.

"Oh, yeah. I can never get you out of my head, to tell you the truth." With a twist of his wrist he somehow reaches deeper, touching a spot I did not know needed touching. "When I'm away from you all I think about is being near you again. To smell you. Taste you. Touch you. I go crazy with wanting you and only the thought of spreading you wide and fucking you until your voice goes hoarse from screaming my name makes this need bearable."

"Oh God!" My wombs contracts with that first ripple signaling my imminent climax.

"Does knowing I can't get the very essence of you out of my head make you want to cum? Does knowing my cock is always full and ready to sink into your tightness make you hot?"

"Yes, Yuri. Yes."

"But you'll wait, won't you, baby?" He leans down and licks at the reddened tip of my right breast, his fingers suddenly curving at just the right angle. "Wait until I say that hot little pussy can cum?"

I lift to my tippy toes in reaction and he follows, his tongue expertly working my nipple, his fingers fucking me harder.

"Won't you, Bri?"

"Yes," the whisper trembles from my lips but I feel the contractions start deep and my muscles tighten in anticipation.

Yuri's chuckles softly and removes the exquisite pressure.

"You naughty little lair," he proclaims, capturing my lips in an unexpected movement that was both punishing and coaxing. Unable to deny his claim, I can only moan and enjoy his mastery.

He cups my behind and lifts me onto the wooden surface, stepping between my thighs. He takes his mouth away just as quickly as he gave it and sinks until his head is level with my womanhood.

His eyes teasing me, he licks a playful pattern just above my bud, his breath just feathering over it. Pushing my legs higher, he kisses the insides of my thighs, gently sucks my soaked lips, everything but places his mouth where I needed him most. All the while he praises me, encouraging more moisture to escape my core and drip down my ass cheeks.

My head falls back onto my shoulders, banging on the mirror, and knot my fingers in his hair. My nerves clamber for more but I am unwilling to give up the sweet torture just yet.

Just a little more...

I tremble and thrash beneath him until I can't take anymore. "Please, Yuri."

"Tell me what you want." His fingers penetrate me on the same breath.

"Oh god, Yuri! You're killing me." I push my hips against his face but he still tortures me with the too soft touches.

"Tell me," he commands.

"More. I want more."

"You need to do better than that, sweetheart."

"My clit. I need your tongue on my clit. Yes, right there."

Holding the puffered lips open, he exposes my throbbing bud and devours it. It is not long before the pleasure begins to spiral out of control again but something keeps me from leaping that final inch and I beg, "I need more, Yuri."

His eyes say he understands and without preamble a wet finger penetrates the tight ring of muscle between the globes of my bottom. Fingers and tongue lovingly lashing me in just the perfect balance, he breathes the words I need to hear and I become undone.

"Cum for me."

****

Braced against the vanity, I cum and cum, feeling the thick drops run down my thighs.

Too soon the pleasure starts to retreat so, eyes squeezed shut, I imagine Yuri standing to his full height, one hand still finger fucking me. His cock free from its confines, he fists the length and jerks at it with furious strokes. My hand joins his and he spews thick globs of his semen onto my stomach.

I cry out Yuri's name and my knees buckle as my climax takes on a new intensity.

My vision slowly loses its glazed quality and I rise, the pink-cheeked image in the mirror staring back at me sending a shiver down my spine. The flush extends to my breasts and lower. My eyes are too bright and my hair is mussed again.

"God, what if Yuri were to see you?" I ask the reflection. Irrationally, a fresh stream of moisture runs down my thighs. Turning away with a snort, I step into the shower and I turn the head onto the highest setting.

My secret obsession with Yuri started almost two years ago when walked in on him while he was having sex with his main squeeze at the time, a blonde whose language made sailors blush. Lyn, I think her name was.

After a dismal date with a man still obsessed with his ex, I came to the apartment early and found them going at it like there was no tomorrow. Lyn's bottom held off the bed and her legs spread wide over Yuri's arms, the woman begged him to fuck her harder as her breasts bounced with the force of his thrusts.

His cock was long and thick, so much so it looked like it hurt to receive but nothing but ecstasy showed on every inch of female flesh beneath him. Though covered by latex, the contrast of his dark length stretching the pink pussy was as arousing as the way he worked the mammoth tool into her.

The look of rapture on her face as she orgasmed almost sent me over the edge as well. As it was, I must have made some sort of sound and alerted them to my presence. While Yuri acted like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Lyn invited me to join them.

I escaped into my room with a mumbled, "No thanks," and have not been able to forget his cock since them. It showed up in my dreams, both awake and asleep.

It is secret I go through great strain to keep and only the pages of my brown leather diary knows the need I hold for my roommate.