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When I was a sophomore in college, my roommate and I could not afford a two-bedroom apartment, so we got a one-bedroom and flipped a coin for who would get the bedroom. He won.
The living room was very large, so I made part of it into my “bedroom,” though it was not partitioned off. In fact, my double bed was right beside the door.
I had introduced this stunning dark-skinned brunette bartender Michelle to him that I dearly wanted myself, but Steve, being a veritable babe magnet, came home with her to our apartment early one morning after she got off from the bar.
I was very stoned and spanking the old monkey while lying on top of my bed with the bedspread still on when I heard their voices and his key slip in the door.
Completely naked with no time to hide and embarrassed to the max, I just lay there face up with a huge erection pretending to be asleep. They noticed right away and giggled.
I heard them walk over to the table and Steve, noticing the Hawaiian sensemilla and bong there, said to Michelle what potent weed it was and that I had obviously smoked ankara escort bayan myself into oblivion.
A few moments later, I heard the bong gurgling as they helped themselves to several hits.
Then Michelle commented, “From the looks of that flagpole, he doesn’t appear to be in complete oblivion. Do you think he’s having a sex dream?”
“Probably,” said Steve, “He’s had rotten luck with girls lately. You know he has a big thing for you.”
“Really?” said Michelle, “I had no idea. He’s too nice of a guy. If he wants to get laid, he needs to be more like you and take charge. Hell, I would’ve been delighted for him to jump my bones. You know I’m a wild woman.”
If it were at all possible, hearing this, my dick got even harder, and I heard the bong gurgling again.
“Wow, this is some incredibly strong herb, and it’s sure making me horny,” said Michelle.
“Yeah, me too” agreed Steve, “It’s that body-high kind, and it’s mega-expensive.”
More gurgling, and then Steve said, “I dare you to jump his demetevler escort bones right now, but remember, I don’t eat pussy with cum in it.”
There was a long silence punctuated only by some giggling, then I felt lips on my cock! Michelle (I HOPED it was her) was sucking my dick!!! And, man, what a great BJ it was–nice long wet strokes slowly going up and down. After several minutes of this, she stopped for a moment, I heard some rustling sounds, and I felt a hand grasp my cock at its base. Then a fabulous and very wet pussy slowly eased all the way down on me. (Whew–that HAD to be Michelle.)
I wanted so bad to see her beautiful brown body and feel those ta-tas and tiny ass but, of course, I was “asleep” and had to keep my eyes closed and hands down. She must have fucked me for a good fifteen minutes as I heard both her and Steve’s muted laughing. It took every bit of willpower I could muster to keep from cumming in her soft, tight, drenching wet pussy.
Then she stops, and goes back to sucking me, esat escort faster and more vigorously this time, until I blow my load into her mouth. Coordinating a shaft-milking one hand with a testicle-tickling alternate hand as she sucked hard and deep, she drank down every drop of cum. Pure ecstasy!!!
“You are, indeed, a wild woman, Michelle,” I hear Steve say, then I hear them go into the kitchen, crack a couple cans of beer (my beer, no less), and go back to his bedroom.
The next morning I was up frying some bacon when they saunter into the kitchen, she wearing nothing but my button down collar shirt that I’d lent Steve for his date. I made fried eggs and toast, too, and we all sat down to at the table and ate breakfast together.
I just couldn’t help myself, so I said, “Wow, Michelle, what a coincidence, I had a dream about you last night.”
“Really?” she said, laughing, “It didn’t happen to be a WET dream, now was it?”
“Well, as a matter of fact, it was,” I replied.
“Dream on!” taunted Steve.
They dated through the end of the quarter, and I would often spy on them fucking and sucking through the crack in his bedroom door that would not completely close shut. I never let on to either of them that I was actually awake the night of my “wet dream,” and they never uttered a word to me about it, either.
It was the only time I was glad that Steve had won the toss for the bedroom.
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