Roommates, pt. 11

The next morning over breakfast--Taylor's night had been another kaleidoscopic amalgam of Casey, her body, her hands on his cock, her mouth, and moans--he had an idea.

"Can I take you out for a drink tonight?"

"Taylor, are you asking me on on a date?" Her foot rested in his lap. She was dressed for a home-work day, sweat pants that threatened to fall off her hips and a tank top. She had been running her toes along the underside of his cock as he tried to eat his toast and read.

"I know, I know, but I think it would be fun."

"No, I think it is a great idea. I can't wait."

Taylor was almost giddy. I feel like the hottest girl in school just agreed to go out with me, he thought. She is driving me absolutely crazy. Just then his phone buzzed.

Casey: Can we meet right at the bar after work?

Taylor: Sure, I had this one in mind... address link.

Casey: Oh, I like that place. It is dark. I'll have to keep my hand on you so I don't lose you.

Taylor: Not much chance of that, but I'll take it.

Casey: See you at 5:15?

Taylor: Can't wait.

Taylor sat at the bar, already working through a neat scotch. He was nervous. Why does this feel like a date? he wondered. He'd been living with her now for over a month. She was his erotic world at this point. They'd essentially been flirting with an outright physical relationship for weeks. She made him cum rubbing up against him just a few days ago, but still, he felt nervous.

"Jesus, she's hot," he heard the bar tender say under his breath, looking at the door. Taylor turned to see Casey walking in, doing that thing where a woman walks on a line to bump her hips out slightly with each step. He realized he wasn't breathing. She was wearing a black wrap-around dress. The v-line of the neck hugged her shoulders and accentuated her breasts before cinching around her trim waist. Her hips flared it out again, where it ended above a pair of nylon-encased legs.

She sat down next to Taylor.

"Is this seat taken?" The bar was only half full.

"What can I get you?" interjected the bar tender, openly checking her out.

"Old fashioned," she said.

"Please put it on my tab," said Taylor.

"Is that okay, miss?" asked the bartender, giving Taylor a side-eye look.

Casey looked at him in mock appraisal. "This one, I guess. We'll see how his conversation skills are to see if it turns into two." As she spoke, her hand drifted to his thigh below the bar. He took a big breath in.

The bartender turned away, getting her drink.

"You look fantastic, as always," he said.

"I could tell. Your mouth was hanging open until I sat down. You know I like you in this shirt. It shows off your shoulders. I think I would have sat down here even if I didn't know you."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, miss."

"Your drink," said the bartender curtly, who had been listening in.

"Thank you," she said, turning back to Taylor, her green eyes meeting his brown ones for a minute before really giving him a once over, smiling as she did so. "I'm really glad I let you stay with me."

"Ha, me too. You're the best roommate I've ever had."

Casey almost spit out her drink. "God, I should hope so. It is fun to be out with you. At home sometimes it feels so serious."

"I know the feeling. Constant tension... in a good way," he added hurriedly. Her hand squeezed his thigh.

"Right, like, I'm constantly wondering if you're about to lose control again." Her hand slid up and felt his hard-on through his pants. "For example, right now. We're out, and I haven't given you permission to orgasm, so there's no way you'll have an accident, right?" By the time she finished speaking, her mouth was an inch from his ear, giving him a long look down the neck of her dress.

"Ah, no, no, I'll... ah." He reacted to her squeeze. "Be able to hold on."

Her hand was outright stroking him now. "Good. I'd hate for you to cum down your pants. What a sticky mess."

Taylor shuddered. He grabbed her wrist, holding her still.

"Oh? You're going to manhandle me? I wonder if our friend the bartender would throw you out if I asked him to. Told him you were getting fresh with me?"

Taylor let go of her wrist and she went back to stroking him.

"Besides, I am telling you now, you're not allowed to orgasm, so that's that."

"Yes, Casey."

"You like my dress?"

He permitted himself another once over. "Very much."

"Do you like my stockings?"

"Yes, I've never seen you wear them before."

"I only put them on for special occasions. They attach to a garter belt. Here, give me your hand. Turn and look behind me, using your hand to steady you as you look around."

He felt his hand guided to her thigh and then up, under her dress where he felt the material thicken slightly at her thighs, ending in a hem and flat strap disappearing higher up over the smooth skin he felt there. His hand was completely up her skirt as he finished his turning look.

"Jesus, Casey. You're so fucking sexy it kills me."

"Good. Were you thinking about me today?"

"I can't stop thinking about you."

He turned back, as she led his hand back down her leg. "Tell me."

"I can't concentrate at work. I'm so sensitive now that you made me shave." He was whispering in her ear now. Her hand was back on his cock, rubbing slowly. "I daydream about you while I should be paying attention in meetings."

"What do you think about?"

"Everything. You clothed, taking those clothes off, bending you over the arm of the couch and sliding my... ah... oh... fuck."

"Keep talking."

"Sliding myself inside you. Wondering if you'd be wet."

"I'm soaked right now, Taylor." She increased the pressure as she slowly stroked him.

"Feeling the length of me slide into you."

"You do have a nice length." Squeeze. "Not to mention girth." Squeeze.

"Oh god, Casey. Please. You have... ah... to stop."

"Is that what you want?"

"Um."

"Tell me the truth."

"I don't want to without permission."

"You're a good boy. You had better hold on." Her stroking increased slowly in speed now. She was practically purring in his ear. "You had better not have an accident. Even though it would feel so good to pulse and throb until you burst, rope after rope of--"

"Fuck, you have to stop," he said, holding her wrist. But her fingers were still able to squeeze him.

"No, Taylor. I know what's best for you and I want to challenge you."

His hand released her again.

"Good boy, now, look down my top. When we get home, I'm going to untie this dress and let it fall off. I'm wearing a black lace bra so thin you can see my nipples through it."

Taylor groaned, breathing hard.

"I have a matching set of black panties on. Then my garter belt holding the straps you felt on my thighs." Her hand was firm now, methodical. "If you can hold on right now, maybe I'll kneel in front of you and let you slide that delicious cock of yours between my lips."

"No, stop."

"You don't get to decide that," she continued. "I'll let you push deep down my throat. Feeling you pulse in my mouth. And I'll bob on your cock until you--" She felt it then. The rhythmic pulsing beneath her fingers.

"Oh god, Casey," Taylor hissed, trying to hide his orgasm. He felt his whole body vibrate with waves of pleasure as his floodgates opened and long, hard throbs sent ropes of cum down his thigh.

"Oh Taylor. This is a problem," she said as he regained his breath. "I think you're going to have to make up for this when we get home. I want you to think of three ways to show me your contrition."

"Yes, Casey."

"Now, we're going to sit here and have a nice time. I think you need another drink."

He was glad he could make her laugh, recounting a few things happening in his office and the things he was doing to frustrate a co-worker who was harassing another colleague. After his orgasm, he felt light and easy. He enjoyed talking to this woman. Why is she so easy to get along with, he wondered. And where is this going? Luckily for Taylor they were able to stay seated at the bar until it was dark enough outside that the large wet spot in his pants wasn't immediately obvious on their walk home.

As they stepped in the apartment, she flipped off her black heels and he took off his shoes, followed by his shirt, socks, pants, and boxers, the last two clung to him from the large emission they had absorbed.

Casey stood in the center of the living room. She reached behind her, her breasts prominent with her hands behind her back as she untied the dress, each side peeling away from her. As it dropped from her shoulders, Taylor gasped at her. How can she do this to me? I've seen her naked? Why does the lacy, black bra, panties, and garter-belt with thigh-high stockings make her somehow sexier, even though she's less exposed? he wondered to himself, or at least that thought ran through the back of his mind as the rest of it was occupied taking in every detail.

"Taylor. You came without permission--again."

"Yes, Casey."

"I think it is unfair that you have orgasmed twice now from my touch, while I still have to take care of myself."

"I'm sorry, Casey."

"I told you to come up with three options to show me you are sorry. Tell me now."

"Yes, Casey. I thought giving you a full body massage, including ah, um..."

"Say it."

"Using my fingers to pleasure you."

"That is a good start."

"Then, ah, perhaps I could pamper you, washing you in the shower before drawing you a relaxing bath?"

"Hmm, we'll keep that in mind for after a bad day at work. And option three?"

"I... um."

"Tell me."

Taylor couldn't meet her eyes. "I'd like to use my tongue."

She took a step towards him. "For what, Taylor?"

"To... ah... take care of... um. I want to eat you out. I've been dying to taste you. Please let me make it up to you by letting me..." He knelt down in front of her. His hands gently resting on her thighs. "Please. Casey. Let me make you feel something even half as good as I feel when you touch me."

Jesus, it is hard to keep up this Domme façade sometimes, she thought. "I think that would be an acceptable apology for your inability to follow my directions."

She reached out and took his hand, sauntering over to the couch. She sat down and he knelt in front of her, but paused.

"You want to ask me something?"

"Yes, I, um, well, usually when I do this, I don't just dive right in."

"Oh? What do you like, Taylor?"

"I like whatever you want me to do for you. But if it is up to me, I'd start by kissing you, touching you with my hands, and then work my way down your body."

"That sounds, ah... mhm... oh, ah, yes, well, kissing is a little intimate, Taylor. I do not kiss my toys. But you may kiss my neck and go from there. That would be, ah... acceptable."

Taylor could see her flushing, first on her chest, rising to her neck, and just touching her face. I've never seen her like this, he thought. She's always so in control. He leaned forward, his hands on her lower ribs as he leaned in, just past her face to kiss her neck just below her ear.

"I've been wanting to do this since I met you," he whispered. He heard her stifle a moan as his body pressed hers back into the couch. He knew she could feel him and his weight pressing her into the cushions. He kissed below her jawline, following along her collar bone, his hands wrapping around her, pulling her close as he kissed his way between her breasts, held by the thin lacy bra. Her fingers slipped through his hair as he made his way down her stomach.

He had never dealt with a garter belt before. He looked at it, the straps holding her panties below it, before figuring out he could unclip the straps, slowly remove her black, lacy underwear.

"Can I leave the nylons on?"

"I'll... ah... yes, fine, sure."

She's flustered, he thought. I can't believe how turned on she is. He could smell her arousal now, inches in front of his face. She was shaved. Her lips visible, glistening in front of him. He rested his hands on her thighs now as he slowly approached her, breathing in. It smelled like a concentrated, heightened version of her: clean, fresh, slight tang he couldn't place. The sense intensified as his soft, flat tongue extended out to explore her folds. He heard her breath out a long sigh as his tongue stroked her labia apart, finding new places within her recesses. He slowly made contact at the apex, only teasingly light contact on her clit to begin. Her fingers tightened in his hair, telling him she wanted more pressure. He stiffened his tongue as he continued his increasingly rhythmic movements. As her clit gained in prominence, he paid it more attention. When she moaned for the first time, he wet his index and middle fingers of his right hand, sliding them inside her, palm up. He was rewarded with a hissed "yessss," from above. His fingers swirled and pressured her G-spot with each pass, in time with his more focused attention of his tongue now. His pinky and thumb worked her labia gently as the entire affair was pressed by her hands on his head, urging him on. In a few minutes of slowly rising intensity, he was surprised as her hands pushed him hard and thighs clamped around his head as a shockwave hit her body.

"Oh, my god, Taylor!" She screamed loud enough that he worried the neighbors might come knocking. He didn't care. He kept the pressure and pace as she rode his mouth through the wave of what was apparently one of the loudest and most intense orgasms he'd heard from her.

"You are so fucking good," she was saying, trying to regain her breath. "That was, absolutely, oh fuck. Jesus, I..." She seemed to come back to herself. "Yes, that's a good first attempt, Taylor. I think it makes up for one of your two accidents."

"Yes, Casey," he said, through a grin.

"Don't take that familiar tone with me or I'll make you do this again tonight before bed."

"Whatever you say, Casey." He said, with mock deference.

"Oh shut up." She broke, smiling at him. "Go make me dinner. And thank you."

"Literally any time," he said standing up.