Roommate Auditions


5/15/03—Graduation Day

Dear Diary:

This is it! 4 years or of work (OK, fine, 3 years of work, about one solid year of coasting, but that’s between us, to be sure, yeah?). I promised myself I’d be a bit more honest with this diary, and I think I’ve kind of failed. Somehow, despite being hundreds of miles from my parents, and in complete disagreement with the religious tenets I grew up with, I still feel guilty writing about the “dirty” things in my life. I’ve read over my diary entries for the last two years, and it is amazing. No mention of boyfriends, or even the drunken kisses of random boys, or the really random girl. I’ve whitewashed by own life. I’m my own censor, and that seems silly.

Justin is my boyfriend. There I said it. I said it just in time to say that he’s leaving, and I’m a bit relieved frankly. When we first started dating (Dating, oh, Diary, I’m still whitewashing.) When Justin and I first started FUCKING (ah, that feels good to say, even in light of the now) it was so hot. Couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We’d abandon our friends in a heartbeat if there were an empty room at a party, or a bathroom that locked, or just wasn’t used much. We didn’t care. I used to close my eyes and get myself off in seconds, just imaging his voice when we were fucking. I used to tell him that I could tape his muttered “Oh God’s and “fuck yeah’s and sell them on the Internet as a masturbatory aid for lonely women.

And you know, I wish I had taped them, because the last couple of months, he’s been quiet. The routine we settled into wasn’t what 20 year olds, or hell, 30 year olds should have to settle into. We went from not-keeping-our-hands-off-each-other to bored so fast that I’m not even sure when it happened.

Well, Diary, that’s not completely true. I know when it happened for me. And it was probably about the same time for him. Because he used to be so gung-ho to please me, Diary. If I asked him, he’d eat me out for half an hour, and he’d take the guidance of my hands, and let me lead him up and down my pussy, and he’d do it willingly. I’d keep him away from my clit for 10 minutes at a time, and he’d stay away from it, even though he knew that was the way to get me off quick. He dug the idea of getting me to the point where I just grabbed his head and threw him right on it, and his tongue and my finger would work in concert and I used to have these just mind-blowing orgasms that left me gasping and I was frankly ready for bed, and then he’d lift his head up, with that devil-make-care, cockeyed smile, and he’d sit up, and there’d be this not huge but impressive enough dick looking right at me, and we’d finally get to fucking, and he was so turned on and I was so turned on, we’d both come in a few minutes of him roughly fucking me. I liked it, he liked it, and we were both happy.

And then I started faking, and I think he even faked a couple of times. I can’t prove it, of course, but after we got tested for HIV, and we stopped using condoms, I learned a little what his cum in me felt like, and there were times he made all the right noises and jerked almost the right way, but I just didn’t feel it.

We were getting tired of each other, I suppose. So, anyway, Justin is leaving for Graduate School in Miami, of all places, and I wish him well, and I will always have a place in my heart for him, of course, but it seems clear that there wasn’t much there there, if you will, Diary.

Anyway, I’m graduating, Justin and I will probably go through the motions one last time, and then I’ll be a single gal, presumably soon a professional single gal in the Cities.

One note of concern: my roommate Jenny (who I have mentioned previously, in not so glowing terms, I admit, and she now confirms that rudeness as being well-deserved) has announced, out of nowhere, that she isn’t going to stick around for the summer. 2 weeks ago, she said she was. One week ago, she swore she was. She now says she’s willing to pay her share of the June rent, which gives me 2 weeks to get out of the rent agreement, or find a new roommate. I’m a little screwed, but I’ll worry about it later. I’ll party like hell, figure out the rest later.


Dear Diary:

It seems clear that with this new book, I unconsciously intended to talk only about my super-personal sex life. I’ve been writing in the other journal all week long. My thoughts about the build-up to war, the question of poverty in America, the issues raised by a newly economically dominant China? All in the other book. My “oh my god” personal moment, however, comes here.

I’ve spent the last few days interviewing roommates to live with me for Ankara escort no longer than the summer. I plan to move on by then, anyway.

It had all been freak and geeks for the most part, Diary. I couple of reasonably cool people, but no one I could get really excited about living with. The few cool people who did show up didn’t seem to have any discernable method of income. One of them was some high school kid who had a shit load of money, but wanted to store pounds of pot in the freezer. You know, Diary, that I’m not against pot in theory, and I enjoy it on occasion, but this was felony, get raided by the DEA, explain to your Mom and Dad why you are on Court TV amounts he was talking about. And he was the best prospect after 6 hours of a pseudo-open house thing I had worked out.

And then, Diary, there was a knock on the door. And as resigned as I was to failing, I still answered the door. And it was Misty Knight. That means nothing to you, Diary. It means almost nothing to me. I didn’t know her real name. One of Justin’s nerdy friends (who I’ve recently noticed as being cute, but that’s neither here or there) swore she looked like some chick out of a comic book called Misty Knight. And, so, since we didn’t know her real name, we called her Misty Knight. She was tall, six foot maybe, muscular—she ran track, and played basketball, and ran during the off-season, and was somehow busty. She was something out of a comic book. She was African-American, with a big fro that would have looked silly on me, or Justin, or Justin’s nerdy but cute friend (who I suppose I should name: Conor). Diary, I’ve never been hurting for boys interested in me, but when I stood next to this woman, I felt like Jerry Lewis.

And then she said, “So, you’re looking for a roommate?” And I said, “Yes, indeed I am. Are you looking for a flat?”

She said, “Flat! I love your accent, girl! My name is Terese. I’ve seen you around.”

And I of course introduced myself and we shook hands and we smiled, and I liked her grip, Diary, she seemed honest and true, and her smile suggested that we’d get along, despite our (imagined by me) differences.

And then she said, “Mind if I look around the place? I just found out my roommate is bailing on me and I need to find a place to live in the next couple of weeks or I’m completely fucked.”

And I invited her to look around. She looked like she had been working out when she had seen my sign for the open house. She was wearing track shorts, a t-shirt, and a jog-bra that looked like it wanted to retire. As she walked out of the main room and into the dining room/library, I noticed that she was also wearing those little anklet socks with the little poofballs on the ankle. I remember that because I was just about to ask her about those when she looked back at me and said, “Do you mind if I check your water pressure?”

And I said, “No, by all means, I think you’ll find it works quite well.”

And I remember her snickering and saying “quite well” in a tone that seemed to mock mine, which bothered me for a moment, and then I remembered what I had left in the shower, and my bothering fell away to terror, to be honest, diary.

Soon Enough, Misty, I mean Terese, had the water going, and I could see steam billowing out from the bathroom. And I heard her yell, “Do you mind if I jump in real quick? I’m so sweaty.”

I don’t remember saying anything, but I do remember her saying “Thanks” and then I could hear the pattern of the water falling change, as it was no longer hitting ceramic but flesh, and I found myself quite unsure what to do.

I knew I had forgotten something, something that made me uneasy about Misty, I mean Terese, being in my tub. I couldn’t quite place it until I heard, “Oh my goodness!”

And then it dawned on me, and before I could say a word at all, Terese came out of the bathroom, fog and steam trailing her, and she was carrying the graduation present I had bought myself. I had done research, and I had decided the extra money was worth it. I had bought myself a really top of the line vibrator, and that’s what Terese walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and a knowing smile, clutched in her hand.

She said, “My Goodness, Siobhan (and she pronounced right, by the way, Shov-ON. Neither here nor there) what kind of apartment are you running when this is in the bathroom?”

And I was struck dumb, I really was. And she smiled at me, and walked over to me. I took one step back for every two she took toward me, and given that, she was practically on top of me in seconds.

The steam was coming right off her body. I could smell my soaps and shampoo Ankara escort bayan on her, and she looked like a fucking African Goddess and I was a little scared and a lot turned on, and I knew she completely had me.

She knew it, too.

She ran the dildo up the inside of her thigh, and when it started moving the towel to one side, she said, more than she asked, “Do you want me to lock the door?”

I think I must have nodded, because she smiled again, and moved like a cat to the front door, flipped the lock and turned back to me. Her towel fell without her doing anything at all. She was, if it is possible, more incredible naked than she was in her running uni, or in a towel. I was smitten. I had Jungle Fever. I was Ultra-Bi-Curious. I was in ‘Justin Who?’ Land.

And when she walked over, back to me, (me, still being frozen in the spot when she emerged from my bathroom with my dildo!) and she didn’t lean over, she bent at the knees, and she kissed me, and she forced her tongue into my mouth and ran her tongue along the ridge of my teeth, and I felt her right hand cup my ass, and her left hand rub my thigh, I was in trouble, Diary, real trouble.

Diary, I have to be honest. I’m trying to type this out while playing myself, because the memory is so fucking hot, and I think I really need to take care of business. But I swear to you, I’ll finish this story.


Dear Diary:

Well it’s taken me a whole day to get back to this. Last night was pretty intense. I don’t think I’ve ever come so many times, with or without anyone else. The expensive dildo seems to have been a good investment. I’m actually sore this morning. I practically fell asleep coming; I lost track of how many orgasms I gave myself last night. It turns out that I’m quite generous with my attention, when it is directed towards me. On some level, I’m almost worried. I’ve never been this horny before in my life, and I’ll have to be smarter about it than I have been. But on the other hand, if I had been smart about the other day, I would not have had the pretty fucking incredible time with Terese.

Let’s see, I’m checking where I left off yesterday. Barely remember writing it, to be honest. Ah, so Terese was kissing me, and feeling me up, which I have never had a woman do before. I’ve had bi-curious feelings before, but I was so disgusted with the way some of the girls at school would hook up at parties just to get guys attention that I never really explored the feelings much at all. I didn’t want to be one of “those” girls. And I do enjoy cock, for the most part, so I didn’t feel like I was missing anything too important.

And there I was, with this just goddess of a naked woman with her tongue dancing in my mouth and her hands all over me. I realized that I was kissing her back.

I also realized that I really wanted to touch her body. See my pale hands on her dark skin. I reached out and wrapped my left around her to bring her closer to me. Her skin was still warm and wet from the shower. I was still trying to figure out where I should put my right hand—I was still a little unsure of the entire thing, however fucking hot it was. Terese grabbed my hand and put it right on her nipple. She broke the kiss long enough to sigh loudly and say “pinch it”. Then her tongue was right back in my mouth.

I start playing with her nipple, gently at first, just playing with the erect tip. When I gave it a little squeeze, Terese moaned in my mouth, and grabbed my ass hard. My turn to moan. I became extremely conscious of, and frustrated about, the amount of clothing I had on.

Terese was reading my mind. She broke away from me again and whispered, “Don’t you think you’re a bit overdressed?” I smiled and nodded, and took off my top. Terese felt my breasts through my bra, and when she said, “Your breasts are bigger than I thought they were,” I felt a strange rush of pride. I’ve heard guys say that, and it always annoyed me, but I guess when it comes from someone who has their own pair of breasts it feels less shallow, somehow.

Oh, God her breasts. They really were beautiful. They were high on her chest, and were just perfectly shaped. All of her athletics had probably kept them from getting just ridiculously large, because the girl didn’t seem to store fat anywhere else on her body. Everywhere else, she was muscular. Her thighs were probably twice the size of mine, but I’ll wager mine have twice the fat percentage. The girl is just built.

Anyway, we were both insanely hot at that point, and Terese didn’t even give me time to take off my bra. She just slid the straps down off my shoulders enough be able to Escort Ankara pull the cups down and take my breasts out. She leaned over and put her tongue around one of my nipples. I think I gasped, because she looked up quickly, with her brown eyes wide open, though she never took her mouth away. I reached underneath her head and starting playing with both of her nipples at once. She was clearly sensitive there, because she moaned again.

She started to move towards me, and I realized she was guiding me to my couch. I willingly–hell, who am I kidding—I eagerly walked backwards to the couch and half sat, half fell into it. Terese was standing in front of me, briefly, and I was looking directly at her pussy.

Terese surprised me then, because she took my head and pulled right into her. Again, if a guy had done that, I would have been either scared or pissed off. But with her, it seemed OK. She was forceful, but I sensed that she knew I had wanted her to do it that way. She opened her legs up and she pushed my face in her pussy, I put my hands on her thick thighs and dove in.

Now, I’ve never been within licking distance of another woman before, but I have certainly been on the receiving end enough times. I think I mentioned Justin was always more than willing in my first entry (God that was just a week ago. My life has been fucking crazy lately). Justin was always eager, which is important, but he wasn’t always skilled. I coached him, and I’m sure there are going to be women in Miami who appreciate everything I taught him. He’ll thank me, too, I’m sure.

Anyway, I knew I wanted to tease Terese just a little bit, so I stayed away from her clit at first. I went close to it, and I could feel her tense up in anticipation, and then I’d move away from it. It was fun—she had been in control the entire time, and I was finally getting a chance to be assertive in my way.

When I could begin to sense some frustration from her—she was practically shaking, trying to will herself to come (I’ve been there), I lifted one hand to pinch her nipple, put the other on her ass and drove her pussy into my mouth, and put my tongue right on her clit. I was rewarded instantly with a fucking scream. She didn’t gasp, she didn’t moan, she fucking screamed. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized that I was incredibly fucking wet. I had been so caught up in the whole idea of this afternoon, so busy thinking, “I can’t believe I’m doing this” that I hadn’t noticed just how hot Terese had gotten me. As I continued working her clit with my tongue, flicking sideways and up and down, keeping a quick and firm rhythm, I felt her fingers in my hair, felt them tense up, wrap themselves in my curly red-brown hair. It was a sign she was close to coming.

I moved my hand from her ass to her other breast, and pinched both of her nipples and then, ever-so-lightly, held her clit in my teeth, and continued to flick it with my tongue. She came instantly. I felt her whole body shake. I know those shakes, those full body orgasms, and I know they are fucking awesome. I pulled away from her and looked up and she was sweaty and smiling and she put her hand under my chin and said, “You’ve done this before!”

I smiled sweetly, and said, “No, you are my first woman.” The look on her face was priceless.

There was more of course. It took her no time to take off my shorts (I can’t believe I was still wearing them, and neither could she). She ate me out wonderfully, though she was a little rough on my breasts, which I wasn’t super into. It didn’t stop me from coming like crazy, mind you.

We fucked for awhile, and took our turns using the dildo on each other (which was fantastic, too. The dildo flashing in and out of my pussy so fast it was blurry, and Terese’s tongue splitting time between my mouth, my nipples and my clit (she’s also a bit of a biter, which I didn’t think I’d like, but I guess I learned that I do, if it is done correctly).

It was one hell of an afternoon. I’m wet again writing about it, which I didn’t think would be possible after last night. I haven’t seen her or heard from her since this all went down, but it’s only been a few days. I kind of hope she finds another place to live. I know I need a roommate, but if she were it, I don’t think I’d get anything done. I already find myself wondering whether she likes men, too, and who I could get to join us and keep his damn mouth shut about it. That’s probably just the fucking hormones talking at the moment, but dammit if a three-way sounds a lot better than it did all those times Justin suggested it as a way “spice up” things. I find myself wishing I had bought a strap-on, too. Good lord. Again, I have to say I’m a little concerned by just how horny I am.

That’s it for now, Diary, you’re all caught up, and now I’m going to go see whether I’m really too sore to enjoy masturbating. I’m wagering that I’m not.

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