Roommates: Doug

Even a scientist devoted to rational thinking can go a bit crazy with love. That's what happened to me after my first night in bed with Jason. The day after we fucked I conjured up scenarios of eternal love, blissful marriage, and incredible sex. Nevermind that I was three years older in age and ten years older in maturity than him and that he had a long-term girl friend.

The bubble burst when we fucked again that afternoon while watching a football game on the large-screen television in my loft apartment. I was lolling in fantasy land as we lay in bed post-coitus when his cell phone rang.

He answered the phone. "Hi, dear," he said. A pause. "Yeah, I'm free. I'll be right over." He hung up the phone.

He turned to me, kissed me on the cheek and said, "Sorry, I have to go. My girlfriend is back in town." With that he got up, put on his pants and shirt, leaned over, kissed me again, patted my left tit, and said, "I loved it." And he was gone.

I lay there alone, speechless, my legs still parted in anticipation, my mouth open in astonishment. I had imagined that he was mine! It took me a while to get my mind around the contrary. He wasn't mine. I had only been entertainment, a substitute for his girl friend. When all the neurons in my brain began firing again, I was pissed, pissed at him, but mostly pissed at myself. How could I have deluded myself? What a dimwit I was - to have imagined that our sex had meaning.

I didn't behave very well those first few days after Jason and I had sex. The next day, I feigned bored indifference when he kissed me on the cheek and patted my rear. But I wanted him. Again. My anger came out when Doug, our other roommate, left a dirty glass on the kitchen sink. "What the hell is this!" I shouted. "What am I? The house maid?"

"Sorry," he said humbly. Doug was more sensitive than Jason, a pleasant guy who seemed not to have a mean bone in his body. As a social worker he dealt with abused children all day long and he treasured the harmony the three of us enjoyed in our shared townhouse.

I dissolved into tears. I hugged Doug. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to be a bitch."

"Hey, let's go have a beer and talk about it."

We walked to the sidewalk café down the street, sat at a table, and Doug ordered two beers. I didn't dilly dally around. Doug inspired me to spill my guts. "I feel like a whore. I fucked Jason and now he's gone back to his girl friend. I was used."

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, way, way too much. It was the best sex I've ever had in my stupid, miserable, fucked-up life." I was feeling very sorry for myself.

"You can have it again," Doug said. "But Jason loves this girl. He can't break up with her now -- or maybe ever."

"If he loves her, why did he fuck me?" I'm not usually profane, but saying "fuck" that night was helping me get my emotions out on the table. "What am I? Just a bauble, a punchboard, a slut?"

"You're a sweetheart, Becky, and very sexy. And emotionally vulnerable, it seems."

I was a little angry at that. "I'm not vulnerable. I'm a fucking Ph. D in physics. I'm 28 years old. I know what makes the world go round." That sounded so absurd that I laughed in spite of myself.

"Then enjoy what it offers, sweetie, and don't expect more." He sang the line from the Rolling Stones tune, "You can't always get what you want." I joined him on the next line, "but if you try you just might get what you need." Doug could sing. I liked to sing.

I laughed again. I felt a little better and changed the subject from my misery to him. "What about you and your girl?"

"We've been going together since college. She's the only girl friend I've ever had."

"You're kidding me. You mean the only one... sex?"

"Yes, the only one.... sex."

I laughed. "Compared to you I am a woman of the world! A woman in red!"

"Shhh," he said, pointing to the people at the table next to us. "You're broadcasting to the world." He added, "And, yeah, you're a woman in red. I noticed that red kimono of yours."

I put my hand over my mouth and laughed. "What a pain in the ass you men are. You bastards." But I wasn't serious. I just felt like cursing. Doug and I laughed and he joined me in the chorus of another favorite song, this one by Rodriguez, "I wonder... how many times you've had sex. I wonder... if you know who'll be next."

"C'mon," he said, "Let's go home. We've got to work tomorrow. I hope you feel better."

As we walked down the street toward our townhouse, I was weaving a bit from too many beers. I asked, "Would you like to fuck me?"

He answered. "Yes, but like Jason I have a girl friend. Are you offering yourself to me to make him jealous? Or getting revenge?"

"The thought entered my mind. But maybe I'm offering myself to you cause you're the sexiest man alive."

"And maybe the moon is made of cream cheese? Jason would only be jealous if it hurt his relationship with you, or me. Look on Jason and me as married men. Have you ever had sex with a married man?"

"Once. It lasted two minutes and I never saw him again." I laughed.

"Jason is better than that -- but he's in a committed relationship, like a marriage. You'll have him part-time -- or not at all."

"Thanks for the insight. " I said, as he unlocked the door of our townhouse. "I'll think about it."

Doug and I both got a glass of water out of the refrigerator and walked up the stairs together. I kissed him in front of his room on the second level, turned and began to walk up the stairs to my room on the third level. "Beck," he said.

I stopped. "Yes."

"You're beautiful and very, very sexy. Please don't be sad. Jason and I don't want to hurt you. And we like you as our roommate. We love you as our roommate."

"I love you too. Both of you. I'm just trying to get my head around this situation." I continued up to my room. Alone.

I relaxed after my talk with Doug. Jason and I had spent a playful, enjoyable night together. If that's all it amounted to, so be it. I wasn't going to be a clingy, dependent, bitchy female. Jason, doubtless primed by Doug, sought me out the next night for a chat and we joked and laughed together on the sofa. I wasn't going to show that my pride was hurt. But when he kissed me, said goodnight, and said, "I loved our night together, Becky," I collapsed into tears.

Time heals all wounds and the bittersweet memory of my night with Jason slowly faded and we were again just roommates. Affectionate roommates. The boys and I took up the habit of greeting each other with a kiss and a hug.

***

My realization that sex could be more fun than I had imagined caused me to take on some self-improvement projects. I quit eating biscotti with my cappuccino during my walk to work every morning - and I walked more briskly. I ate carrot and celery sticks with diet ranch sauce for lunch. I did bending and stretching exercises before I went to bed. I was rewarded with two pounds lost the first week and several more in the following weeks. I achieved my goal of ten pounds lost. That put me at 140 pounds, fine for my height of 5 feet, eight inches, big bones, 36-D tits, and ample hips.

Moreover, I fucked a fellow scientist at a conference. He was married - and it was fun - and afterwards we discussed bosons and leptons - and then we fucked again.              

Doug came home one night while I was in the kitchen eating a snack. He opened the refrigerator, took out a beer, and sat down beside me at the table. "My girl friend is cheating on me."

"How do you know?"

"She told me. She said she wants to have some experiences before she settles down with me permanently. She's met another man," he added. "She's had sex with him."

"Poor, Doug." I gave him a hug. I loved him to death. He was sweet, thoughtful, nice - the very things that would inspire some women to cheat on him. "Good girls love bad boys" goes the line in the song. Doug was not a bad boy.

To make a short story shorter, Doug and I went to bed that night.

***

Doug became mine. All mine. Too much mine. Devastated by the desertion of his girl friend of six years and enamored of his sudden access to fresh meat - that was me - he became a needy, dependent, fucking machine. He wanted sex, and he wanted it all the time. For the first few days I was flattered. I had never had a man whose desires for me were so consuming and insatiable. Becky, nerd since birth, felt like a sex goddess.

My moment of revenge on Jason came soon after Doug and I started bonking. Doug and I were in the hot tub together, me sitting on his lap enjoying the feel of his dick inside me, pumping up and down gently, working our way toward a climax. Suddenly, Jason opened the door and stepped out on the deck. "Oh, excuse me." He said, turning around to leave.

Doug shrunk down in the tub, but I, cool as a cucumber, turned my head around to face Jason, my large, wet, slippery tits flopping up and down as I continued to pump and said, "No problem. What can we do for you?"

"Oh, well, nothing, I was just going to say hello. But it looks like you two are busy."

"Not at all," I said.

"Well, I'll see you all later."

"Ciao.' I gave him a wave and squeaked in ecstasy as I brought my hips down hard on Doug and his dick penetrated deeper into me.

I felt good. I had shown Jason that he was not the only man in the world for me - nor even the only man in the same house. I pushed the thought that I wished it were him out of my mind.

My relationship with Doug was pleasant, but too intense. I liked him, I liked getting fucked regularly, I liked having a man I could call my own - but Doug was too needy and clinging. I wanted the relationship to continue, but I needed to dial it down a notch. Doug was a charming, immature boy I would never fall in love with. Doug had to be discouraged, but not dismissed.

I cut him off on weeknights. I was nice about it, laughing and joking about his permanent hard-on and his marathon performances in bed, but after a week of kidding around, I got to the point. "It's got to be quick tonight," I said one night. "I have a big project and I have to get up early and work hard." I took his penis in my mouth and sucked it briefly, then climbed on and rode him hard, my tits flopping in his face, and exhorting him, "Cum in me, cum in me, cum in me!" He did. And I did. And I climbed off and said, "Shoo, now. I've got to go to sleep."

He was a bit chastened, but he got up and stood over me, his dick dripping cum on my tits. He kissed me on the cheek and dutifully retired to his own room. After that, I found excuses to fend him off most weeknights.

This went on for a couple of months. Our sex was mostly on the weekends.

But there was Jason... My infatuation had cooled but I still wanted him, often fantasizing that it was him in bed with me rather than Doug. Jason and I had become comfortable with each other as friends, but with just a little bit of sexual tension between us. Or maybe a lot. That led to a tryst.

Jason came up to my room one night to watch television. Doug was gone. We shared a bottle of wine and had a jolly, good time chatting until Jason, suddenly, planted a wet kiss on my lips. "Oh," I said, pulling away about one millimeter. "You shouldn't have done that."

"No, I shouldn't. But I've wanted you ever since that night--"

"That night you fucked me, but you had to leave when your girl friend called you," I finished the sentence. "I remember it well."

"That was a bad scene. I'm sorry about that." He nuzzled my neck with his nose.

"So, now, you're lonely and horny. Three months later."

"Yeah," he was licking my neck now. I should have pulled away.

"Well, you can't fuck me now," I said definitively. "Doug may be home any minute."

"But you want to?"

"I didn't say that." His tongue was in my ear. "Besides, I'm on the rag."

"That doesn't bother me, if it doesn't bother you."

"No way. This is a new couch. I don't want to get blood on it."

"I'll get a towel." His hand was on my breast and we were cuddled up, still sitting, his lips moving up and down my face.

"No!" I said. "Not a chance." But I was laughing.

"The bed?" he said pointing.

"Clean sheets. And Doug will be home soon."

"Oh, God, I want you Becky."

"More than you want your girl friend?"

"Right now I want you more than any woman in the world." He thrust his crotch against me and I could feel him hard beneath the fabric in his blue jeans.

"You are full of it," I said.

"Yes," he agreed, "and I would make sure you enjoyed it. As you did those three times."

"Don't flatter yourself.

"You didn't fake those orgasms."

"No."

"You were awesome! It was memorable. We belong together. If you get my meaning."

"Your meaning is rubbing against my leg." It was. Out of his blue jeans. "Don't you dare cum on my dress. Or my couch."

"Take your dress off."

"No!" He had his hand up my dress now, massaging my clit through my panties. "Honestly, Jason. I can't have sex with you. It would hurt Doug and I would feel bad."

"I'm getting awfully hot."

I laid him back on the couch, took his cock in my hand, and lowered my head to it. I took it in my mouth. "You cannot tell Doug anything about this. Promise?"

"Oh, yes."

"And don't try to fuck me. Ever." A quick blow job, I thought, and then I send him back to his room. I was sucking away when we heard the front door open.

"Beck!" It was Doug, shouting up the stairs. "Are you here?"

I pulled my mouth away from Jason's dick. "I'm up here, Doug. Jason and I are... watching television." Jason was hunching hard, his cock punching holes in the air where my mouth had been.

"Finish me, please, please," Jason pleaded.

I put my mouth to the task, driving his cock down my throat, my saliva wetting him, my hand cradling his balls, and he cummed.

"Ok, if I come up?" shouted Doug. He was on the second level.

I tried to speak, but I couldn't. I had a mouthful of cum and the slimy stuff was slithering down my throat all too slowly. Jason had to speak for both of us. "Sure," he said, shouting down at Doug. "Come on up." His voice was still shaky after his orgasm. He quickly stuffed his shrinking cock back in his jeans and zipped them up. I pulled my head away, sat up, and tried to arrange my clothing. My panties were stuffed up my vagina. Oh, well. Too late to do anything about that. Doug appeared at the head of the stairs.

"What are you two doing?" Doug asked. There was a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"I was just getting ready to lay your girl friend," said Jason with a laugh. I tried to laugh also but Jason's cum was stuck in my throat. I could only make a slurping sound. I suppressed a cough. That would spray cum everywhere.

"Ha, ha," Doug said, looking at me.

The cum finally went down my throat. I gulped once, licked my lips to get the residual off, and could finally speak. "Jason has delusions," I said.

We hadn't been caught, but I felt guilty so, overcompensating, even though it was a weeknight, I invited Doug to my bed that night, and put more effort than usual into ensuring that he enjoyed our sex. I wanted Jason in my bed again. What to do? I didn't want to hurt Doug.

***

There's nothing worse for a fragile ego - and mine was fragile - than to be wishing to break up with someone and have them break up with you first. That happened to me with Doug about a week after I gave the blowjob to Jason. We were drinking wine at our kitchen table one night after work. He was obviously nervous.

"I'm not going to be around this weekend," he announced.

"Oh, too bad," I stuttered, not quite sure whether to inquire into the reason or not. I was actually a little relieved.

"My girlfriend wants me back."

That hit me like a shovel in the face. Sweet, dependent, needy Doug - my loveable doormat -- was dumping me! "What about me?" I croaked. It was the best I could come up with.

"It's not the end for us." He patted my hand. I pulled it away. I almost threw my glass of wine in his face, but it would have stained the pretty embroidered tablecloth I had just bought. "I'm going to see her this weekend and we'll try it again. This won't affect us, you and me. I didn't promise her that I wouldn't see other people."

"You've been "seeing" me? Well, then, I would encourage you to see other people then," I said sarcastically. I jumped up from the table and started to flee toward my room. Doug caught me in his arms and, damn it, goddamn it, I was crying, my tears dripping on his shirt.

He patted me on the back, like a concerned parent dealing with a willful child. "Please don't cry, Beck. We're still friends. We can still have sex. It's just that I know that my girl friend can love me... and you can't, you really can't. I know that you're not serious about me. You know that too."

"I'm really glad that I'm not serious about you," I shouted. "Cause if I were I would have just been shit on." I broke away from him, and ran up the stairs, ignoring his pleas to come back, to talk.

I cried myself to sleep, but when I work up in the morning, I felt better. My first thought was, "Hey, now I can fuck Jason." And maybe other guys too. There was a guy at work....

"I've thought it over," I announced to Doug a couple of days later after I had nursed my bruised ego back to health. "You're right. We had nothing going on that was long-term or serious. You should take care of yourself. And I'll be fine." I affected a cool indifference that was not entirely affected.

He was relieved. "You're my best friend, Beck. You saved me during a very difficult time in my life. I'll love you forever for that. No matter how you feel about friends"

"I feel like we're friends," I answered, kissing him on the cheek. "But," I warned him with a laugh, "don't be coming up to my room unannounced. I may not become a nun."

"Beck, if I can help.... don't hesitate.... I'm here for you...." He tried to kiss me and his hand found my breast. I gently pushed him away. Damn men! Like sub-atomic particles you could never figure out where or when they were. Quantum idiots! But don't burn bridges, I advised myself.

.

"Not now, Doug," I said. "Someday, maybe we'll need each other again."

So, that was that. Doug, as a lover, was history. What did I do now? Jason. Did I want to play second-fiddle to Jason's girl friend as I had for Doug's? Yes. Why not? I would gain a bit of revenge on Doug and, what the hell, I needed to focus on my job and not get entangled in matters of the heart. I would fuck Jason - but I wouldn't get involved emotionally with him. That sounded like a plan.

***

It wasn't quite as easy as I had believed. Jason kept a friendly and respectful distance from me for a while. I hoped that his attitude was not indifference, but rather a wise reluctance to get involved with a woman on the rebound from a shattered affair. I suppose I could have asked him and expressed my willingness to be bedded, but that seemed sort of slutty.

It was a couple of weeks after Doug broke up with me that Jason suggested we have a beer down at the corner pub. To my pleasure, it became clear that we were both reading from the same page, mentally and emotionally. Get drunk and go to bed. Jason could blame the booze for cheating on his girl friend, and I could blame the booze for hopping into bed with him. We could, thus, remain at emotional arm's length, while enjoying the physical. It worked. We had several beers and walked unsteadily back to the house arm in arm. Jason didn't ask to come up to my room, he just followed me upstairs. Without a word, we reclined together on the bed and began taking off clothes. It was a glorious night of sex.

When Doug came home from his girl friend's the next morning, Jason and I were still in bed. I made enough noise to ensure that Doug knew I was in bed with our roommate. I felt good. I had gained what I believed was sexual equality with both my roommates.

Jason and I had sex only occasionally. He spent most of every weekend with his girl friend, and so my sex with him was usually just a quicky on weeknights. Doug and I slowly regained our platonic friendship. He even began to seek advice for me on problems with his girl friend - who continued to insist on a non-exclusive relationship. "Hey," I told him, "be happy that she's honest and not sneaking around on you. Maybe you need a little something on the side?"

He looked at me all too candidly. "That was not an invitation," I insisted. I kissed him. "Someday, Doug, but you owe me big time for dumping me. I am going to make you beg to fuck me. I'm going to tie you up and ride you with spurs and whip your bare butt until it bleeds. When I finish with your dick it's going to look like a pretzel."

"Oh, wow! Do you promise?"

Jesus! How could I stay angry with him? Or Jason? They were the best friends I had ever had in my whole lonely, lab-rat, nerdy existence.

Things were going swimmingly for me. My friendships with my roommates were warm and close and my work was going well. Life had never been better. Except that I wanted more sex than an occasional tumble with Jason. Doug was the option.