Chapter 3

“What what?” I asked.

“You know,” she said. “You, me, my shikibuton…”

“Oh, right. Well, I don’t like to ask for too much.”

“Bored, already?” she asked, giving me a sharp look. “Had enough?”

“Christ, no,” I replied. My heart skipped a beat at the thought of feeling her fingers again. I wasn’t going to reject the opportunity. “But I don’t want to be greedy.”

“Don’t let that worry you,” she said, casually. “I’m going out Monday. Tuesday… probably not. How’s next Wednesday?”

“I could do that,” I said, trying to make my tone as casual as hers.

Monday evening reprised previous Mondays. Whoever was sharing Emma’s futon had a higher-pitched voice than my roomie. I imagined Emma touching her in the same way she’d touched me, that slight smirk on her face, as she started to moan. But then I heard Emma’s softer voice, too, and realized that whatever they were doing was mutual. That was very different from Emma and me.

She wouldn’t have the same smirk in that case. I wondered what her expression was at that point. And surely, she would be naked, and not hiding under a duvet. Was she on top, with her curls spilling forward? On her back, with her eyes closed?

Jesus, was I fantasizing about my roommate? I forced myself to stop. I realized that whatever squick factor I thought I still felt had drifted away without a trace a few days earlier.

Even without the fantasy, I was still turned on. I readied my vibrator and built the feeling into a pleasant climax. As I came I wasn’t picturing being with Cam. I was imagining golden curls and an amused grin.

“Sleep well?” I asked, when Emma appeared the next morning. It was becoming a private joke.

“Mmhmm,” she said. She headed straight to the dishwasher, grabbed a cup and filled it with coffee. Her bare feet swished on the floor as she headed to the table, clearly not fully awake. She took a sip, then brushed her hair back and peered at me through her glasses. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Sure,” I responded. “So, do you remember her name this time?”

“Val,” she said, instantly. “She’s been here bef… well, you wouldn’t know that anyway.”

“Oh, some of them are repeat visitors?”

“Sure,” Emma said. Then she frowned. “Why the interrogation? You suddenly have a problem?”

“No,” I said, quickly. “No, not at all. I just wonder. You don’t seem to get close to anyone. I’m surprised to hear you’ve seen anyone more than once.”

“Yah, well, I’m no closer to Val than I am to, umm…” She waved a hand in the air.

“Margot?” I suggested.

She laughed. “I did remember, but I thought you’d enjoy correcting me. Yeah. Or Sally, or Paula… we’re friends. We…” she frowned for a moment. “We have a shared interest in getting off, and a mutually pleasurable way to do it. How is that a problem? For Val, or me, or Margot, or you, or anyone else?”

I shrugged. “Not a problem for me,” I said. After a moment, I added, “You won’t get frustrated by, umm, unavailability the way I was.”

She looked up and grinned at me. “As they say, as meaningless experiences go, it’s pretty damn good.”

“We’re still on for tomorrow?” Emma asked. “Your new concern over my relationship status hasn’t changed your mind?”

I shook my head. “I’m good if you are,” I said.

“About that, then,” she said. “I like your PJs, but I don’t think you really need underwear with them.”

“You… want me to not wear panties?” Something swirled in the pit of my stomach.

“It would be easier, and I can’t really ask you to take them off without taking off your shorts.”

“That’s logical,” I agreed, hoping the flush of arousal didn’t show. The sudden feeling was not logical, given that either way we were talking about her touching me intimately. I grinned. “I’ll try to remember.”

If I felt any uneasiness at spending time in Emma’s bed, it was no longer about having a girl’s hands on me and in me. It was that the evenings seemed increasingly not to be compatible with being faithful to my boyfriend. I guess they never were, but where I’d seen them as meeting a need, now I was looking forward to them as an exciting sexual experience. One that Cam had no way to compete with.

Even my own solo experience on that Monday evening had been more intimate and more satisfying than any time I’d had with Cam.

I knew I could never tell him about what I was doing with Emma, which in itself confirmed that I was being unfaithful. But if I stayed with him, I’d be committing to a future of disappointment with sex. Unless he could change his attitude, to become more adventurous and more considerate.

I wasn’t even feeling especially attracted to him, anymore. Of course, I wasn’t feeling attracted to Emma, either. Except that I was seriously attracted to her fingers…

Those fingers were now beckoning me into her room, and I obeyed their guidance.

“Do you think we’d be better without the duvet?” asked Emma. “You were too hot last time. I can turn the light off, or low, if you’re squeamish.”

“I’m not squeamish,” I objected, as I sat on the futon. “But I think I’d like lower light.”

She nodded and turned the room light off, leaving just a small decorative light on the desk at the other side of the room. Then she settled beside me, and set her glasses in their usual place on the mat. I reached down to unfasten the drawstring of my PJ shorts, much more self-consciously than before, with no underwear beneath.

At my nod she moved her right hand over to slip inside my shorts. Maybe the lack of panties had excited me more than I realized, but her touch was electric. As her fingers barely penetrated inside my heart had already sped up.

“Would you like me to take my time?” Emma murmured. It surprised me, because she’d always been pretty much silent, beyond checking that I was okay.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I could get you a lot more turned on without pushing you too far,” she said. “Would you like that?”

Surprisingly, if she wanted to delay my arousal, she began to stroke my clit, making me shiver and tense up. My hips moved with her touch, and my arousal spiked.

Then she backed away, caressing my folds, then slowly delving inside. My thighs tensed around her hand, but I was in no danger of losing control.

My excitement level stayed high, and my breathing heavy. If I seemed to be flagging at all, Emma would extend her thumb to press on the hood of my clit, circling it until I started to moan, then releasing it before I could get too close to the point of no return.

Emma kept me in this state for longer than we’d spent before on our entire encounter. And eventually, even when she avoided my clit entirely, just her touch seemed to be about to move me too far. And I was at the point of wanting that, whatever the consequences.

But she drew her hand completely back and rested it on my belly.

“Should I go now?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too disappointed.

“Only if you want to,” Emma replied. “Otherwise, the longer you last, the better it feels, right?”

Emma ran a finger down over my sex. Though it was just a brief touch, my whole body was still tingling with arousal, and I groaned.

When she drew her finger back from my pussy, she raised it higher, to circle my right breast.

I stiffened, but she continued, spiralling in to circle my nipple over the thin top. As aroused as I was, I groaned again, feeling my nipple swell, my heart speeding up.

My breath caught as she pinched my nipple between finger and thumb. My arousal spiked. Without her touching my sex, I didn’t think it would threaten my control, but it did send a thrill throughout my body.

“You like that,” Emma stated.

She chuckled. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I do know what I’m doing.”

I nodded.”Okay,” I croaked.

Emma squeezed my breast lightly, then moved her hand back down, into my shorts, where she found the mound of my clit and pressed down, beginning a circling motion.

“Oh God,” I groaned. My hips lifted, pressing my sex against her fingers, and I started to pant.

Emma didn’t leave me in that state for long. She must have recognized how much that final touch had propelled me forwards. She drew her hand back, and whispered, “Go!”

I did, almost dropping my shorts. I did let them fall in my room, then threw myself onto the bed, face down. Wedging my hand beneath me, the hood of my clit pressed to my wrist, I bucked my hips against it, instantly feeling myself driven into the final flight to orgasm. With my left hand, I squeezed my left breast, then buried my face against my sheets to muffle the cry of intense pleasure as I crested, my sex yielding to passion and contracting into pulsing delight.

Morning coffee had been an unplanned ritual between Emma and me since we’d moved in together. We both took coffee the same, black and strong, depending on it for a good start to the day. If she rose before I returned from my run, she’d brew it. If I returned first, I would. We didn’t need to ask permission to take a cup, and never needed to check how the other liked her coffee prepared. The only exception was that Emma would occasionally buy a fancier grind than the grocery can, and I wouldn’t use that, but I would drink the coffee she made with it.

So when I returned from my run to find Emma brewing coffee I just went straight to the shower, and poured myself coffee as soon as I was finished.

“You don’t need to ask,” she said, as I made myself a bowl of cereal. “I did.”

“Me too,” I replied. “Like a baby.”

“Did you like the change of pace?” Emma asked.

I felt a sudden thrill in my groin as I remembered how turned on I’d been last night. I tried to keep my expression neutral. “Yeah,” I said. “It was intense.”

“I’ve got a light day today,” she said. “Want to go again?”

“Tonight?” I responded in surprise.

“No, but…” I began. “Look, I keep telling myself that this is just a casual thing we’ve done occasionally because it keeps me from getting frustrated, which is true. Twice in two days isn’t casual or occasional.”

“And that’s bad because…?”

“I guess because I’m going to have to admit to myself that I want it just because I want it, not because of some excuse about not seeing my boyfriend in months. I want it because it’s fucking hot.” I blinked. “I guess I just admitted it.”

“I guess you did,” Emma replied.

“Why do you want to, though?” I asked.

“Maybe you haven’t realized, but it’s pretty fucking hot for me, too,” Emma replied.

Emma grinned, her amusement clear even behind her glasses. “You didn’t realize that making you horny turns me on?”

“I guess I must have known that it would,” I replied, “but I hadn’t thought it would be very much.”

So I – or, at least, my reactions – were the source of another girl’s lust. I didn’t know how I felt about that. I wasn’t into her, only what she could do. Was she into me?

“Do you, uh, fantasize about me?” I asked.

An eyebrow rose, her amusement still clear. “I’ll answer that if you do,” she said.

I recalled imagining her expression on Monday night. “Maybe we should table that.”

“Okay,” she said, completely unfazed. “So, tonight?”

I paused for only a moment before replying, “Okay.”

Emma had already dimmed the lights and was lying on the bed when I entered. I lay beside her. Knowing that what she was going to do to me would be turning her on too gave me a strange feeling, but it wasn’t discomfort, it was more of a spicy addition to the anticipation I felt.

She began by lightly stroking my right breast. Why did it feel more intimate for her to do that than to get her hands inside my shorts? That thought reminded me that I hadn’t yet loosened the drawstring, so I did that while Emma kept caressing.

She circled the nipple, and I felt it begin to swell within the light fabric. Adding her thumb, she lightly pinched the nipple, then began to move her fingers apart, taking in more of the breast, squeezing it and releasing, rolling her fingers and thumb against it. My clit tingled with each squeeze.

Moving to more familiar ground, Emma released my breast and slipped her hand into my shorts. She briefly caressed my sex, finding me already quite wet, then buried two fingers deep within me and began to rock her wrist, quickly but smoothly. I joined her motion, rocking my hips against her hand, each thrust of her fingers into me carrying me a little higher.

I was panting when Emma withdrew her hand, but I was still still well within the safe zone. She lifted her hand to my right breast and kneaded it, covering it completely, then letting her fingers and palm slide back so that she was squeezing only the top of my breast, and then tugging the nipple. When the nipple popped out of her grasp, she covered the mound again and started over. The muscles of my belly tensed with the stimulation.

Parting her fingers around the tip of my breast, she squeezed, pushing my erect nipple firmly into the cloth of the jacket. Then she moved her face closer. “Will you let me do this?” she asked, then extended her tongue to flick against the nipple.

“Mmm, yeah, if you like,” I said, my tone rasping.

Parting her lips, she brought them down over my nipple and began to suckle through the fabric. Whatever she was doing with her tongue was hidden from me by her lips, but it sent a rapid series of shocks flowing into my clit, and I groaned.

Moving her hand from my breast, she left her mouth covering it, so that she could continue to suckle as the hand began to tease my left breast, tugging on the nipple and squeezing the tip.

My breast tingled too when she moved her hand away, sliding it back down my body and into my shorts. She gently caressed my labia as my hips slowly lifted against her hand. After a time she pushed her fingers deep inside me, then began to move them rapidly in and out.