Friday evenings are usually not so boring. Except that my dear live-in boyfriend had decided to get drunk with his office friends. My best friend ditched our movie plans at the last minute.
That’s why I was sitting in our room, smoking a joint as I looked out through the window imagining myself in a music video. The electricity was gone because some transformer blew up nearby. But the evening was nice and comfortably warm.
I had the flat to myself, so I was just in a T-shirt (and nothing else). My boyfriend Tarun was an OK guy, but he was too plain sometimes. He rarely made plans for us to spend time together. It was usually me looking for places to visit, things to do that might be fun.
We’d been together for four years now, and things had settled to a slow pace. Sometimes I felt like I was working too hard in this relationship. I must have dozed off at some point. I heard a phone ringing that wasn’t mine and woke up. It stopped a few rings later, and I heard Aman’s voice in the hall.
Aman was Tarun’s flatmate and work colleague. There was one more flatmate, but he had gone home for a week to attend a wedding. I was surprised to see Aman back alone. He and Tarun were supposed to return together.
In the silent flat, I could hear his voice in the corridor as he talked on the phone: “Yes, Abhishek, I came home. No, I didn’t want to, but you know what a choot Tarun usually is. He shows up at parties uninvited, doesn’t pay for the booze or the food, and then starts hitting on the girls. It’s embarrassing.”
Well, that was unexpected. I didn’t know Aman had a problem with Tarun. Or that Tarun was being problematic. I didn’t know that Tarun hit on other girls after getting drunk, and that disturbed me.
I heard Aman enter his bedroom and toss his bag to the bed. A belt unbuckled, a shirt rustled to the floor, a zipper unzipped, and his bathroom door closed as he started the shower.
Maybe he didn’t know I was at home and left his room door open. I put my drinking playlist on my phone as I used its flashlight to roll another joint. I still had a nice soft buzz. But it was just 9 pm, and I had no intentions of sleeping early on the weekend.
The shower turned off, and a few minutes later, his door softly closed. I smiled as I imagined him realising I was in my room, thinking about what I might have heard.
I heard a knock on my door followed by, “Chahat, are you there?”’
I replied, “Hey Aman, yes. What’s up?”
“I’m having a drink on the balcony. Wanna join?”
That was surprising. Aman and I never talked much, even though we were staying in the same house for a few months. Tarun was friendly with Aman and Rahul, but I rarely used to join them for any drinking plans. I was a little hesitant, but I was bored and also a little curious. I opened the door, the joint still in my hand.
“Sure. What’re we drinking?”
“There’s some beer in the fridge, and I’ve got some vodka in my stash, but I’m drinking rum. Want a beer?”
I thought for a while. “I’ll have the vodka.”
We dragged the drinks onto a tray and sat on the recliner chairs on the balcony.
I made the first round of drinks for us, tipping just enough vodka into my glass to start a decent buzz and some extra rum into his.
“So what’re you doing alone on a Friday night? Tarun didn’t bring you to the office party?” he asked.
“No, you know he doesn’t like that. Besides, I don’t want to come to your boring parties at that same old place. Their drinks are watered down, and the food is overpriced.”
“Well, if that’s the only reason, then fine.”
“What else could it be?”
“You tell me, you’re the one smoking up alone,” he said and raised an eyebrow. I ignored him and sipped my drink. The pop-jazz music was getting me in a great zone. I didn’t want to spoil the buzz thinking about Tarun. We sat in silence for a while, letting the vibe hit.
I turned my head and rubbed my neck, closing my eyes with discomfort. A desk job sucks, even if it was work-from-home. At this rate, I’m sure I’ll die of a sprained neck in the next ten years.
“That looks painful”, he said.
I replied, “Yeah, I was stuck in meetings all day. My shoulders are killing me.”
He got up, came up behind me, and I felt his hands on my shoulders. I froze for a second, but he just held them there.
“Relax”, he said, “Just breathe normally.”
I could feel the heat through his palms. He slowly started rubbing my shoulders in circles, and it felt nice. I closed my eyes again, letting him take over. He continued rubbing my shoulders for a while. Then I felt his hands move closer to my neck, from the t-shirt onto my skin.
Damn, he was good. The pain was completely gone in just a few minutes. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten a massage like this. I let my hands fall from the chair, and my head fell back to see him above me.
His bearded jawline stood out in the dim light, his v-neck t-shirt showing off some light chest hair. I could smell his musky scent mixed with the lemony soap he used. I’d never noticed before how nicely fuckable he looked.
He met my gaze, and we maintained eye contact for a while. He didn’t expect to see the lust in my eyes. This was where things took a turn.
He continued rubbing along my throat, pushing the right places with his thumbs. I felt his hands near my collar now, just above my cleavage. He paused for a moment as though waiting. I looked at him and gave a slight nod.
His hands slid down over my t-shirt before coming back up to cup my breasts. It made me gasp even though I knew it was coming. His hands went all over my front, rubbing, pinching, and squeezing like he had done this a hundred times before.
I saw his shorts tented just a few inches from my face and imagined what his dick would taste like. I was breathing heavily, my mouth half-open, and I leaned ahead to help him as he pulled off my t-shirt.
My nipples were hard as erasers, and he pinched them, making me arch my back in pleasure. His right hand went down to my pussy, rubbing his palm before using his fingers to find my clit.
Fuck, this guy was good.
One hand on my left breast, his lips on my right, and his other hand playing with my clit like a seasoned expert. I felt the heat rising, my entire body feeling the overload of three places being pleasured together as I was about to come. He bit my right nipple and teased the left with his fingers.
As he pushed another finger inside my pussy I felt the current explode through me. I lay feeling the rush, and he came up in front of me and spread my legs open. Looking into my eyes, he went down. Even though I had just come, I started feeling the pleasure rise again.
“Fuck, Aman, maybe we shouldn’t….” I weakly said, even though I wanted him to continue. He just ran his hands along the insides of my thighs. He continued doing things with his mouth that sent me higher. I felt his tongue run along my lower lips and circle my clit before diving back inside.
His fingers rubbed inside me, working together with it. His hands ran further along my body, cupping my breasts and finally pinching my nipples. This pushed me over again, and I came for the second time that night.
My sex life wasn’t bad, but this was something I hadn’t felt in a LONG time. I was spent but not fully satisfied yet. Aman had awoken something bad inside me. I had stopped feeling guilty sometime between the first and the second orgasm, and the night was still young.
I crawled ahead, pushed him on his back and grabbed his crotch before kissing him on the lips hungrily. I was going to finish what he started.
To be continued.
I’ll continue this story of a if people like it. So did you like it? Imagined yourself in the place of Chahat? Want something different to happen? Whatever it is, please send me your thoughts and comments at /cdn-cgi/l/email-protection” class=”__cf_email__” data-cfemail=”3c5351595b5d5f544e5352555f50590c0c0b7c5b515d5550125f5351″>[email protected].
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