Girls’ Night In

Friday night was for going out. Saturdays were for brunch and adventures. Sunday though, Sunday was girls’ night in.

Well, theoretically. I actually didn’t go out much on Fridays or Saturdays, but my roommate did. She took pity on me though and would watch dumb tv shows and silly movies with me on Sunday.

“Becca, popcorn?” my roommate Cassie shouted from the kitchen.

“Yes, duh!” I replied.

She laughed and ran into the living room holding two jars. “Cinnamon Kettle Corn or Mexican Spice?”

“Surprise me,” I said with my usual crooked smile.

As per usual, Cassie’s outfit was shocking. Little black panties, gray thigh high socks, and no top or bra.

“A bowl of each!” she proclaimed.

I gave her a thumbs up, trying not to let her see that I was blushing.

“Don’t start the show without me!” she said with a comical glare.

“I wouldn’t dream of it!”

Life was strange. Things that seemed ordinary could become preposterous, like how I used to wake up at five in the morning every day and milk cows was growing up on a farm. Other things could become ordinary that were once unthinkable, like being comfortable with my roommate walking around mostly naked.

Why shouldn’t I be comfortable? I’m a girl, she’s a girl, what was the big deal? The big deal was that I just wasn’t raised that way. Plus, Cassie was beautiful. Unlike me, she had no shame at all. When I first moved in and she asked me if it was okay if she ran around with no clothes on I felt like I would have been a prude to say no.

And I was okay with it. It just turned me on a little sometimes.

But I tried to put all that out of my mind as we sat and watched some new tv show she was excited about.

Three hours and a lot of messy popcorn later, we were falling asleep. We were sitting back on the couch, bare shoulder to bare shoulder, side to side, leg to leg, our feet on the coffee table, a blanket over us, making me almost too hot.

A movie started next. Something that was in her Netflix queue. I knew from the start it was going to be sexy by the music.

I’m not sure when I realized what she was doing, but the room was dark and on the screen an actor was roughly pushing an actress over the arm of a couch. I felt Cassie’s knee press against me as her legs opened a bit. Her hands were under the blanket, moving slowly.

My clothes, which were a t-shirt and sweatpants, felt itchy and humid. I wondered if I was imagining things.

I looked over at Cassie’s face. She was concentrating on the screen, but her eyes looked glazed. She was biting her bottom lip. Her breathing was irregular.

Cassie was a girl with great hungers. She had boyfriends over, girlfriends over, random dates, fuck buddies. Our thick walls kept things from getting too uncomfortable, but her sexuality radiated and I often felt myself straining to catch glimpses of things I shouldn’t have.

This was something else though. Or was it just my imagination?

Cassie moaned, a soft high breathy sound.

Not my imagination.

Her leg pressed against mine harder. I felt my nipples aching. I wondered if I should pretend to be asleep.

Somehow my hand was slipping under the blanket and into my own pants. My hands could be sneaky like that. Between my legs it was so wet I thought I might die from embarrassment. I pressed my fingers between my thighs and tried my best to bite my tongue.

Then the room faded away a little and there was just my slick fingers finding the right spot to rub, the right pressure, the right angle.

Instinctively my legs opened too, pressing back against Cassie’s leg. Her eyes met mine, both hazy. Her hand sped up, her hips rocking, her leg rubbing against mine.

She didn’t try to be quiet anymore. Little grunts and “fucks” and moans and whimpers. I wanted to be loud too, but couldn’t muster the courage.

Her breath was fast and ragged. It usually took me a while to come, but the tension and the shame and the built up frustration had me on edge. I felt myself following her lead, moving faster, my fingers so wet it was hard to get any friction. My clit was so hard and sensitive I could hardly touch it. I just brushed the tip with my thumb as my fingers plunged into me harder and harder.

Then her hand was on my thigh. It was such a little thing, but her squeezing my leg, hard, almost painfully, as she came sent me over the edge.

The pleasure washed over me, echoed by Cassie’s moans. Her hand on my thigh, moving up a little. My whole world in that one physical connection. I want to turn, to kiss her, to have her touch me, but I couldn’t, all I could do was come with her.

Then there was silence. There was only the sound of the movie, which was embarrassingly in to another sex scene.

The shame came, as if often did, right after my orgasm. I closed my legs and my eyes, wishing I could escape.

“Hey, Becca,” Cassie asked in a sweet friendly voice.

“Mhm?” I replied, sort of wanting to shrivel up and die.

“Could you do me a big favor?”

I opened my eyes a little. She was smiling at me.

“It’s totally cool if it is too weird, but it would be really awesome if you could just go down on me while I watch this movie,” she said with the same grin she would have if she asked me to take out the garbage or get the mail.

I couldn’t respond. Not verbally. But I was on my knees in about a second.

She put the blanket right over me and took my hair in her hands, pulling it hard, putting me in just the right place to kiss and lick and suck her wet pussy.

It didn’t take long for her to come again and after she just sort of left me there to continue kissing and moaning into her thighs, under the blanket, ecstatic to have been useful to her and happy to be hidden as I got off again and again as she drifted off into a nap.


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