Adulthood sucks balls, and not in the fun, sexy way that I drop to my knees, plunge my wanton mouth over a hard cock, then lick my way down to suck on my lover’s sack while he shoots his load all over me. At least that’s how I would suck the aforementioned balls if I had had a lover. Despite being objectively fucking hot, although a bit nerdy, there haven’t been many men in my life—not many women, either. Through most of high school and then college, my sexual hunger was barely sated by a diet of fingers, a few toys, and fantasies enhanced by movies and internet porn.
In high school, despite my high, firm breasts that never required a bra, my shapely, toned legs, and my rounded ass, Johnny Quarterback didn’t want to molest me in the back seat of the sports car his affluent daddy bought for him, no matter how much I hinted or tried. In college, at least, my geeky nerdiness was tolerated, sometimes even accepted. I was the ‘cool chick’ that played Dungeons and Dragons, listened to indie rock, and had a quick, biting wit. Drunken college boys were more than happy to pound my wet pussy, and college-aged, young women were more than happy to experiment with lesbianism with me.
Then came graduation, that involuntary thrusting of one into the real world. Social issues, one’s outlook on society, and all our lofty goals of changing the world crash away as if all our hopes and dreams were scrawled upon glass, a sledgehammer shattering them all. Being an adult means responsibility. Utilities pile up quickly; rent in the city, so one can get to their job to pay the bills, borders on criminality. Even with a decent-paying job, I couldn’t afford the luxury of being able to afford both food and a place to live. Getting a roommate was a necessary evil.
Luckily, I’d known Tiffany in college. Like me, she was a bit of a nerd, a gamer-girl, and we shared many common, geeky interests. While we weren’t the best of friends in college, we hung out at similar places, saw each other at the same movies shown in the student theaters, and even ran into each other at the same conventions. She was, likewise, having a tough time ‘adulting,’ and even though my squalid apartment was only three tiny rooms, we made the best of it.
Tiffany was a beautiful woman. Her long, brunette hair was shiny and vibrant, matching her glowing skin and brilliant, blue eyes. A picture of vitality, she couldn’t find work in her field, so she had to take whatever jobs she could find. Despite life giving her post-college lemons, she was always bubbly and optimistic. For one-half of the rent and utilities, she agreed to sign onto the lease and sleep on a rickety couch.
Our apartment, while pleasant and in a nice neighborhood, was only a combination living area and kitchen with a single bedroom on one end and the bathroom on the other. Oddly, none of that seemed to matter after she moved in. It was very much like reliving our college years, except office hours and paychecks replaced classes and studying.
After the first few weeks together, we were getting along famously. Common interests in entertainment and a shared love of swords and sorcery fantasy were the glue that bonded our friendship. Neither one of us had a boyfriend, and, while we talked, we both considered ourselves bi-curious, but mostly straight. No women were in our lives, either. After work, we’d both change into whatever we felt like and lounge about, eating, drinking, indulging in potent edibles from the high-class dispensary down the street, and watching movies.
It was one such night of our usual routine that was the catalyst for everything. With all the bills caught up, we sat down, after eating Chinese takeout, to celebrate. Deeply intoxicated, we binge-watched a popular, epic fantasy series rife with sex and nudity. It had magic, dragons, and sex so steamy that the both of us, lounging about in just a shirt and panties, commented that our panties were soaked. Dripping horny and slightly tired, we cleaned up our mess and I went into the bedroom while she made up her bed on the couch.
“Good night, Jan,” she said to me. “I love your new, blond hair; you look so sexy.”
My bedroom door had barely closed before I’d stripped off my soaked panties and thrown myself onto the bed. As the walls were so thin that you could hear a fly walking on the opposite side of the wall, the door even thinner, I tried not to moan as my hands cupped and squeezed my breasts, fondling them as I sighed in arousal. Slowly, my fingers wandered south, caressing my flesh through the t-shirt. I couldn’t help but moan when my fingertips found my nude flesh.
A scene from the show, where the heroine took multiple lovers, both male and female, into her chamber to serve her endless sexual desires, ran through my head. Only, in my fantasy, it wasn’t the actress, it was me taking multiple lovers at once. My finger swirled between my pussy lips, the wet sounds musical. I had a vibrating toy but didn’t dare use it, lest Tiffany hear. Instead, I coated my hands with my sexual nectar, slowly teasing my clit to supersensitivity, and inserting one, then two fingers just barely inside my dripping cunt.
Frustratingly, although I edged myself to the precipice of an amazing orgasm, I’d drank far too many margaritas in my stoned state, and the urgent need to urinate foiled my attempts at self-pleasure. It was the weekend, and I had all night, so I didn’t worry. Quietly climbing off the bed to not awaken my slumbering roommate, I pulled my t-shirt down, not bothering with my panties, and slowly opened the bedroom door. To reach the bathroom, I needed to traverse the length of the tiny apartment.
Except for the soft, bluish glow of the television, the room was dark. Tiff had turned the TV back on and was watching the same scene that I’d been masturbating over, once more. Her feet were facing me, her legs spread wide, and I had a clear view of her lust-painted face as she furiously fingered her twat. Tiffany’s head was turned toward the screen, her tongue shooting out to lick her lips. One of her hands was a blur over her clit, the other stroking up and down between her folds. Her panties were on the table in front of the couch.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, startling her. “I, uh, had to use the bathroom.”
“Busted!” she laughed out. “Might as well go, then.”
I shrugged, feeling myself blush from head to toe, and quickly peed, washed my hands, and decided to ignore catching her masturbating. However, when I got back into the living area, she’d rewound the show to the beginning of the sex scene and had her legs on the coffee table, spread wide. Tiffany’s perfectly manicured fingers were busy between her legs. Stunned, I just stood there and stared.
With heaving breasts, her nipples hard under the shirt, she panted out, “It isn’t like you weren’t fucking yourself in there, so don’t pretend.” I was immobilized.
Moaning, with her hips beginning to buck, she managed to say, “Either join me or go back to your room.” Her words came out slowly, moans and sounds of pleasure between them. Overcome with passion, I pulled off my shirt, standing there nude, and practically ran over to the couch, plopping down beside her.
Tiffany paused only long enough to turn the volume back up and then renewed the assault on her clit. No longer caring about the other hearing, we fingered ourselves, side by side, watching the sexy scene. The freedom of not trying to hide our natural impulses was so liberating that soon the two of us were commenting on the scene, masturbating wildly, and spreading our legs further and further.
“Look at her face, so hot,” I panted.
“The sound of your pussy sloshing is driving me wild.”
“I love that you’re shaved, do guys like that?”
“If, ahh, umm…I had a man, oh fuck…I wouldn’t be fucking myself with my roommate.”
While we masturbated, getting closer and closer to orgasm, our legs touched, barely a feather-light contact.
“Fuck, I’m cumming,” Tiffany yelled. Her orgasm set off mine, and we had simultaneous orgasms on the couch.
After some sobering, giggling silence, both of us ashamed, we hugged, platonically, and bade each other a good night. Still drunk, stoned, and horny, I fingered myself to another orgasm in the bedroom before I could relax enough to sleep. In the morning, it was as if nothing had happened, but that night changed everything.
Continuing our nerdy binge-watching, we effortlessly integrated side-by-side masturbation into our routines. No longer ashamed or embarrassed, we binged on a pitcher of screwdrivers, more edibles, and fantasy entertainment. Unfortunately, in our lusty state of inebriation, Tiffany spilled half a pitcher of booze on the couch.
“That’s alcohol abuse, right there,” we laughed.
“I won’t be able to sleep well with the couch all wet.”
“I have a double bed. You can sleep with me.”
Two hours and one orgasm, each, later, we lay down and fell asleep. While not the most convenient arrangement, after that night, Tiffany and I slept in the same bed each night. Complimenting each other’s beauty and fingering ourselves in front of each other was as heated as things got. While it may sound odd, for us, it seemed natural and comfortable. Things went on like that for a few months, until my birthday.
Being an adult meant no parties, no extravagant gifts, and no real celebrations. Chinese food, once more, and some cupcakes from the local grocery store were as festive as things got. We talked, laughed, and ate, continuing our quest to deplete the inventory of the dispensary.
“Oh, Jan, my gift,” Tiffany exclaimed. Retreating to our now-shared boudoir, she emerged with a mirthful smile, bearing a hastily-wrapped box. “Happy birthday, you old hag.”
“Shut up, Tiff, you’re, like, less than a year younger than me!”
“Unwrap it. I just know you’ll love it.”
My ‘gift’ was a gag gift. The box was roughly the size and shape of a shoebox. Inside was a sex toy, but not just any dildo. Called ‘The Tiamat’ it was a huge dildo. Molded from medium-hard but flexible bronze-gray silicone, it was a dragonesque phallus. Tiffany shrieked in delight, hugging me as I examined the dragon-cock.
Covered in knurls and with a bulbous body, it had to be over eight inches in length and at least that large in circumference at the widest portion. The contoured body was covered with ridges and scales, a harsh texture that was sure to massage the innards of anyone brave enough to fuck themselves with it. The sharply tapered head was almost triangular, and the large, heavy base was all bas-relief texturing. It looked intimidating and impressive and was the perfect sexual gift for a nerd like me.
