Romantic | Relationship | Self Pleasure
She Wants Him in the Worst Way
He’s her flatmate, and her brother’s best friend. When she touches herself, she’s thinking of him
Jason came home late last night. I guess he was trying to be quiet, but beer had made him clumsy. He tripped over something and cursed loudly outside my door. Then there was silence — no movement at all. Was he waiting to see if he’d woken me up?
I wanted to leave my room, I yearned to open my door and press my body against him, but he’s my brother’s best friend. Jason’s known me for years so he doesn’t see me as the woman I’ve become, to him I’ll always be the tomboy kid, his best friend’s sister who he’s known since we were teenagers.
Anyway, I couldn’t go to him, I was only wearing a singlet and panties, and those were damp because I’d been touching myself, thinking of him. I’d cringe if Jason knew the effect he has on me, but I can’t get my desire for him into perspective.
I hoped that going to the pub with my mates would get Abby off my mind. Instead, I compared all the girls I saw with her, and none of them measured up.
Since Abby went to college, she’s really got it going on. The teenager I knew has suddenly grown up: curvy hips, trim waist and boobs that draw my eyes like magnets. Even in the oversized sweats she wears around the house, her body calls to me.
I didn’t foresee a problem when Ben, her brother, suggested she lived here while he went on tour with a band. It made sense, as she can’t drive but has got a job in town. But ever since the day Abby turned up, with a suitcase on wheels and a bag slung over each shoulder, I’ve been a horny mess.
Abby looks like an angel, with wide china blue eyes and silky blonde hair, but her body is built for sin, taking my thoughts to some dark, deviant places when she’s nearby. She’s not the tidiest flat mate. She leaves distracting scraps of underwear drying in the bathroom, or dishes piled up beside the sink, but she bakes delicious cookies. Having her in my space is a delicious torment.
Today, when Jason was at work, I snuck into his room and lay in his bed, breathing deeply with my face in his pillow, to catch the fragrance of his hair product and aftershave. I rolled about in his sheets. It made my pussy damp to think of his naked skin caressed by the same covers.
My behaviour’s not normal — it can’t be — having a head full of images of Jason all the time. I watch the graceful way he moves about the flat, and my brain turns to mush whenever he stretches in front of me; his happy trail is like a neon sign pointing towards his dick.
When I left Jason’s room, I had a pair of his soft jersey boxers scrunched furtively in my hands. I’ve been sniffing his slightly musky fragrance and stroking myself silly ever since.
“It’s Saturday night Abby, you must have plans to go out.”
“I don’t. My friend Ros is having a dinner party, but only couples are invited.”
“Aww, that’s not fair. You haven’t met any guys where you work?”
“At the gym? No. Those muscle men are either on steroids or in love with themselves.”
Abby’s heart was thudding. She didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or relieved that nobody had hit on her since she started working at Monster Fit. She wondered if Jason’s question was leading somewhere.
“If you need the flat to yourself, I can go out.” Abby stood and stretched. “I’m getting couch-shaped from binge-watching Netflix.”
Abby’s hoodie rode up, displaying a taut stomach above fitness leggings that fit like a second skin. Jason felt his pulse speed up. He took a gulp of cold water from the glass he’d just filled, but honestly, dumping the whole lot over his head would have cooled him off better.
“Naw, I don’t have plans either. The fellas went to watch their team play, but I’m not into football.” Not unless you are, said a voice in his head.
“I could cook…” Abby suggested.
“Then I’ll be your sous chef.” Jason motioned very fast chopping, realising he’d do anything to be around her.
“Nothing fancy, just a chilli,” Abby said.
“My absolute favourite,” Jason grinned. “You make a list and I’ll shop for ingredients. Dessert or popcorn?” he asked.
Abby looked at him shyly, biting her lip, which made Jason’s cock stir in his pants.
“Can I say both?”
“Thank Moses you said that, I want both too!” Jason punched the air.
His cheeky smile made Abby’s knees go weak, while her stomach swooped at the thought of spending a whole evening alone with him. She listed the supplies she needed, then Jason hurried out to the market.
While he was gone, Abby had a shower and changed into a tiny thong and bralette, which she covered with a sloppy joe top and fitness leggings — she had them in every colour. Putting her hair up in a messy bun, she changed her sheets, stuffing discarded clothes into the wardrobe. Who knew where this night was heading? But she hoped it would end in the bedroom.
You can’t stuff this up, Jason lectured himself. Don’t make a move without getting a sign from Abby. If she didn’t want to be more than friends, kissing her could make things awkward, he didn’t want to make her move out.
Plus Ben will punch your lights out, the unhelpful voice in his head chimed in.
Jason queued for the till — checking he had all the ingredients Abby had specified; plenty of fresh veggies for him to chop. For dessert, she’d just written something with chocolate? On an assistant’s advice, he chose a chocolate torte that they only needed to defrost.
Maybe we could watch a scary film, he thought, making plans to go alpha male if Abby got frightened. Then he remembered her earlier comment about too much Netflix. Perhaps she’d be interested in a two-player game on the Xbox.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Abby!” Jason pronounced. “That chilli was outstanding.”
He kissed his fingers like a French chef, and she blushed prettily. They were sitting at the cafe style table that he’d brought in from the balcony. He’d put several tea-lights on a plate in the middle for atmosphere. Abby was delighted he’d tried so hard to make it special; it seemed like a date.
She poured a little more wine, needing some Dutch courage to take the next step.
It had been a dizzying experience cooking with Jason in such close proximity, making her glad she’d chosen a one-pot meal, because she could hardly concentrate. Her body strained towards his, no matter where he stood in the tiny kitchen.
“Who’s your favourite actress?” she asked.
“That’s easy, Kate Hudson,” he grinned, “with Patricia Arquette as a close second.”
“They’re both blonde, so you have a type?”
“Huh!” Jason mused, “perhaps I do. Who’s your favourite leading man?”
Jason studied her long and hard, his eyes almost flashing, which made her quiver inside.
“Oh,” Abby ran her finger around the rim of her wineglass, considering. “I like them fair-haired too, Chris Hemsby, Ryan Gosling and… Lucius Malfoy.”
Jason paused, then burst out laughing.
“I’m pretty sure the guy playing Lucius Malfoy wears a wig.”
Abby smirked back, “I know that, but he has piercing blue eyes.”
I have fair hair and blue eyes, Jason’s head voice said.
“Truth or dare,” Jason spoke aloud, hoping to steady the fireworks bursting inside him.
“Truth,” Abby replied quickly.
“Have you ever broken the law?”
“No.” She sipped her wine. “You?”
“No.” He held his glass but did not drink. “Have you ever stolen anything?”
Abby’s face went very pink, it was now or never. “Yes.”
Jason looked confused. “If you’ve never broken the law, what did you steal?”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Abby’s heart knocked against her ribs, and her mouth was suddenly dry.
“Your underwear.”
“My — What?”
“I took a pair of your boxers. I was planning to wash and return them.”
Jason’s face was suffused with strong emotion, but Abby couldn’t tell if he was angry or turned on.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“Go on.”
“I stole your underwear and I’ve been touching myself –”
He drew in a sharp breath, and she knew he wanted her too. Abby pressed on with her confession.
“I know it’s animalistic, but I’m turned on by your smell. It makes me wet, thirsty, and when I masturbate –”
“Stop!” Jason grasped her arm, his large warm hand pulling her up from the chair. “Show me.”
Between Abby’s legs was molten lava. Her excitement and nerves warred, but when he propelled her towards her bedroom, exhilaration won the battle. Her room felt very small with Jason in it, and her bed seemed like something taboo, which they should tiptoe around.
“Show me, please.” Jason’s voice was thick with yearning, desire that he couldn’t disguise.
“I think about you all the time, and I want to learn what gives you pleasure.”
Abby stepped near to the bed and shucked off her leggings and thong in one swift movement, quickly reaching under her pillow to draw out Jason’s soft, jersey boxers, purloined from his laundry hamper. She stepped into them, one leg at a time, pulling them up her smooth legs, so her neatly trimmed pussy was again hidden from his gaze.
Slightly less shyly, she pulled her loose jersey over her head. Now, wearing only a lacy bralette and his boxers, she looked straight at Jason, nibbling on her bottom lip.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Abby climbed onto the bed to take up a kneeling position, gesturing for Jason to sit at its foot. Without waiting for him to obey, she began running her hands up her sides and around her breasts, cupping and stroking them through the fabric. She pinched and plucked at her nipples, making the sensitive flesh pucker, their tips hardened to points, which she twisted.
When Abby gasped, Jason had to bite his own lip not to moan aloud. This was every bit as good as he’d imagined on the nights when he’d thought of her and stroked his own hard flesh. Abby’s body was better than he could have wished. That she was hot for him, putting on a private show, exceeded his wildest dreams.
Abby pulled the fabric of the borrowed boxers tightly against her labia, now puffy and moist. Her cyprine fluid darkened the shorts’ crotch, illustrating just how aroused she was. Noone had ever watched her masturbate, but right now, under Jason’s burning gaze, she touched herself with abandon, imagined she was a cam girl, or a lap dancer, putting on a sensuous show, designed to tease and excite.
Jason could not tear his eyes away, they were drawn to Abby’s movements as if under a compulsion. She rubbed and tapped the nub of her clitoris, bunching up the boxers, circling and stroking the length of her pussy so the material gaped and pulled, giving him many thrilling glimpses of her wet pink flesh, which glistened with honey.
Her juices perfumed the room and her soft sighs and groans assaulted his ears, until his own engorged response to her lascivious movements began tenting the front of his joggers.
Without taking his eyes off how Abby was stroking herself, long fingers already dipping inside her slit, Jason pulled at his clothes to free his straining cock, and thumbed away the trail of precum. He was eager to match his rhythmic caress with hers.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Abby’s pulse had picked up, her core tightened and a floaty swoop built inside her. Things were happening so much faster than she’d expected, but she didn’t want to stop.
“Jason –” she warned, “I’m going to cum.”
“Do it Abby, let go, enjoy your moment,” he urged her. “Show me baby, let me see you fly with pleasure.”
So she did, leaping from a precipice of heightened sensation. Abby let herself freefall into clouds of bright, intense elasticity, throbs which both embraced and threatened to tear her apart. She cupped her hand to her pudenda, holding two fingers inside herself. Her channel walls pulsed around them as her torso bucked and twitched. With eyes squeezed shut, she let the tide within her rise to a crest, then ebb away.
Jason stilled his own hand, watching in fascination as this beautiful girl brought herself to a pinnacle of pleasure, one which he felt honoured to witness, and which he was eager to replicate with his own ministrations. Pushing clothes off his hips and over his head, he crawled naked towards Abby, taking her body in his arms. She curled into him, the sweet smell of her arousal making his balls ache.
“Was that good, sweetheart?”
He whispered against her neck, feathering kisses against her soft skin.
“So good,” she sighed. “I felt so sexy.”
“You looked sexy. What you did — it made me so hot. I’m aching to touch you, and bite you and suck you.”
Jason pushed up her bralette to latch onto one taut nipple, demonstrating his erotic fervour.
“Jason?” Abby stopped him with a hand against his chest. She sounded so serious. “I don’t want a one-night-stand, I’m a relationship kinda girl.”
He gazed into her wide blue eyes.
“Me too, Abby. I’m not doing this for kicks, I really like you.”
She searched his dear, familiar face for any hint of a lie, then relaxed.
“OK then, we’re really doing this, if you have protection.”
And Abby leaned in to kiss him.
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