The roommates never did simultaneously vanish again that night, which is a shame. Of course, instead, I was given the opportunity to go over to the house of BelovedBoy. So horny that the act of walking, the feel of my panties, my jeans, rubbing up against me is driving me mad. So horny I can't think, not of anything but of sex and want.
"How are you?" he asks.
"Frustrated." I reply.
At some point we hug, and the mere feel of his body, muffled by all his clothes and mine, is almost enough to make me whine in desperation. I do not make it an hour before I ask. "Do you want to have sex?" Direct, much more than usual. That happens when you feel ready to set your crotch on fire by the fury of your humping.
There is uncertainty. Flesh is weak but the spirit willing sort of thing. "We'll see." it amounts to. If he's awake enough. Worst possible answer he could give me --at least if he had said no, I could have forced my libido into silence. Or masturbated like it was going out of style.
He was awake enough.
We were lying, side by side, cuddling in the darkness before sleep. His hand holding mine, down between our legs. And with one glorious swift movement, one sharp shift, we've gone from cuddling to more. His fingers are no longer gently running over my hand. They're running over my thigh, and I'll be damned if I didn't practically cum right there and then.
I am a lady, after all, and I try to give just as good as I get. We bring each other closer and closer to the edges, and cum within moments of each other. It is, in a word, amazing.
As he's drying on my hands, I realize his fingers are quite still quite firm inside me, stretching me out to my furthest. Three fingers, which sounds like such a small number, until one remembers that I am still technically a virgin and quite... tight.
He extracts himself, slowly and gloriously. And pressing warm against each other, we drift away into sleep.