[MF] The creepy roommate of my FWB Part 2: Return of the Creeper | 2016

Link to Part 1

Fair warning that this is long, and that it does not represent my proudest moments. As I was writing I kept going back and adding little details as I remembered them. Do you ever conjure up an embarrassing memory and your brain can't stop building on it, making you remember more and more little things until that shame bomb is primed to detonate? This whole story represents that process, I think.

True to my word, I had Tink over to my tiny little apartment the following day, despite the fact that I was really crunched for time at that point (I'd been working on three separate papers for grad school and needed to finish my research). As exciting as Creeper's voyeuristic interlude had been the night before, it didn't do much to alleviate the guilt I felt over staring at her while I fucked Tink. Not telling Tink about it felt more than a bit like lying, but I was also afraid to just come right out and say what had happened as Tink always struck me as a bit vindictive and I wasn't exactly keen to incur that wrath.

There was a part of me that just wanted to say something and rip that bandaid off and then deal with the repercussions, but when Tink arrived at my apartment she didn't show up to talk. She walked right past me through the front door, hoisted herself up on my small writing desk, and then spread her legs and pulled up her short skirt to show me she wasn't wearing any panties. She smiled at me and said, "I brought you a snack."

As I've said before, subtlety was never Tink's strong point.

And far be it from me to reject a free meal! We've all been that starving student at some point in our lives, right? If I am forced to crawl through the desert and find an oasis there, will I not have my fill of that beautiful, life saving water?

I'm saying I ate her out.

Eating pussy is fantastic. I highly encourage it. Look at your partner's face when it's going on because that's the best part. Tink is what I'd call an aggressive receiver, because she had a tendency to never take her eyes off the action and made it a point to always have at least one hand on my head so she could occasionally grind against my mouth. For my part, I put all my focus on her. Part of that, I already admit, was to alleviate my guilt over the previous night, but also I take cunnilingus seriously. In my experience, eating a girl out is the wrong time to try to do anything funny, or to think about my task list for the day. You're either all in or you're all out because every woman I've ever given oral to has been able to immediately spot when I'm not into it, and they have all ended the festivities early if I wasn't performing. For me, that always feels like a big failure and it tarnishes everything that happens after.

So, yeah. Eat that pussy like it's your career and there's a promotion dangling just in front of you. I cannot imagine you'll ever encounter a partner that complains you're "too intense" about eating her out.

Unless you're incapable of making an intense face without some form of "murder eyes." Probably don't do that.

The combination of wanting to do a good job and wanting to make up for what I felt was a misstep in our sexual relationship caused me to give 110% with Tink, and she knew it. At one point I jammed my tongue as far up inside her as it could possibly go - my face was so pushed into her that I honestly couldn't breathe and she immediately exclaimed, "Damn, boy!" She took this as her cue to ramp up her aggressive behavior and put both hands on the back of my head so she could start pushing her hips into me. I'm not the best at holding my breath so I had to tap her thigh a couple times to get some air but I stayed on her as long as I possibly could. I had my arms wrapped around her thighs and her ass was scooted all the way to the edge of my desk while I just sat on my knees in front of her and let myself be used and abused for a bit.

The payoff was worth it. She squirted, which is something she had done very rarely with me. Her juices got all over my face and my shirt. I would need to do laundry and clean my desk and floor, but I didn't give a single shit.

Now, normally somebody in a FWB situation with me would choose this time to maybe have a conversation. Something along the lines of, "Hey, two hook ups in a row is a little different, and bringing your A+ game to both of them is also new for me. Are you catching feelings? Do we need to evaluate what we're doing here?" and etc.

Not Tink. She hopped off my desk, pulled me back to my feet, kissed me and said, "Fuck, I needed that. Thanks, baby." and then cleaned up in my bathroom. I approached her with the idea of returning the favor but she countered with, "I'm not really feeling it right now and I'm going to be late for work," whereupon she proceeded to get the fuck out as fast as possible.

I wasn't necessarily hurt by that behavior - if anything, it showed me we were definitely on the same page - but I did make a mental note that Tink was not somebody who would ever have a desire to transition out of the FWB role, which is useful information. It also solidified to me that the nature of our relationship was such that telling her about Creeper's weirdness would yield exactly zero positive benefits aside from making me feel slightly better, so I decided to just forget the whole thing and try to schedule Tink visits at my own apartment going forward.

Fast forward a few days later, and I'm fully in writing mode. I'd dropped off the face of the planet for most people because my research was done and I was all work, no play where school was concerned.

I had just hit a rest point on one of my papers and was entertaining myself on the internet when my AOL Instant Messenger lit up with a message from a new person. I'd been ignoring most of my messages up to that point but this was from a new user and I'll admit I was curious. Part of me hoped it would be from one of the young ladies I'd met playing tennis a week before. I had a tendency to offer up my AIM contact information to potential partners because it was the last threatening seeming way to get in touch with me. I never asked for their information so I wouldn't be tempted to bother them. If they got in touch with me, fantastic. If not, oh, well.

As you can probably imagine, the IM did not come from a tennis-skirt-wearing young woman. It was Creeper. I raised an eyebrow at this as I have never, ever given her any of my contact information. The following is very much a paraphrase of how I recall that conversation going down -

• Creeper: hey it's Creeper. Tink's roommate
• Me: Oh, hey. What's up?
• Creeper: is it ok to talk to u?
• Me: Sure, it's fine. Did Tink give you my AIM?
• Creeper: no i saw it on her comp is that ok?
• Me: It's fine, I was just curious.
• Creeper: hey we should talk
• Me: I appreciate that you feel that way but to be honest I don't think there's much to talk about. What happened, happened, and we can totally leave that in the past if you want. If you feel like we need to talk to Tink about it, then I will.
• Creeper: NO DO NOT TELL TINK PLS
• Me: Whoa! Shit, okay. I won't.
• Creeper: SHE WILL KICK ME OUT
• Me: Yeah, she probably will. I need to ask - do you do that a lot? When Tink brings guys home?
• Creeper: no just u
• Me: Look, I'm not going to rat you out, but I will say that the whole watching without permission thing isn't an ideal roommate trait.
• Creeper: ok im sorry. r u mad at me?
• Me: No, I'm just letting you know that watching people have sex is kind of a recipe for trouble and you're eventually going to get caught and that will probably not be great for you.
• Creeper: i thought u liked it

This was about the point I realized I wasn't going to be able to have a normal adult conversation and decided to just go with the flow.

• Me: I admit I found it pretty exciting once I got over the surprise of it.
• Creeper: u like my boobs?
• Me: There are some who might say I'm a fan of a prominent bust ;)
• Creeper: ??
• Me: Yes I like your boobs.

From this point the conversation veered towards her insisting that we needed to meet face to face "to talk about what happened." I'm not a moron. I knew she was trying to set up a scenario to fuck me. I also knew I wasn't interested. As you could probably tell from that whole exchange Creeper was not a towering intellect. And as I said before, she set off a lot of instinctual alarms in my head that made me feel uncomfortable around her. I'm a big proponent of following your instincts. Plus, I couldn't foresee any scenario where fucking Creeper could possibly end well for me. Would I get to have sex with a woman who has really big tits? Yes, and that's always a mark in the plus column for me. But would it also probably spell the end of sex with Tink and probably result in Creeper getting kicked out of her apartment, whereupon my overwhelming guilt would cause me to attach myself to Creeper until she was able to get her shit back together? Absolutely.

So I pushed back on the idea of us getting together in private. But she was insistent on me coming to her and Tink's apartment. I definitely did not want to talk to her in a place where Tink could potentially bust us. I also didn't want her to know where I lived. I finally acquiesced to picking her up in my car and driving somewhere we could speak "privately." There was a church under construction that had been rained out for several days and I knew there were no other vehicles parked there. However, it wasn't so private that a person could murder me without at least the possibility of a random witness. It seemed like a solid enough place to meet both of our needs.

I drove to the apartment and was surprised that Tink's car wasn't there considering that I knew her store was closed at that time. When Creeper came down to my car she told me Tink was at her new job, bartending at a place I had never been. Creeper said she'd be out until the bar closed which wouldn't be until after 2 AM. I pondered that for a moment and made a snap judgment that I'd talk to her in the apartment instead of driving to some random parking lot. To be honest, at that point I was beginning to feel like an idiot for planning out a conversation like it was going to be a sting operation.

In her apartment I once again got waves of uncomfortableness from Creeper. I had never really enjoyed being alone with her. I half expected her to unveil a doll head collection and show me which one was her favorite.

Instead, she had us sit on the couch and she apologized for watching Tink and I. She said she knew it was wrong but she'd heard us have sex more than once and, according to her, "Tink likes your dick the best, she always talks about it," which made her curious.

So, complimenting my dick was a good tactic to getting me to relax. And especially because I began to realize I could find out how Tink feels about things and get responses that were somewhat genuine. I've had a few occasions when I have had friends with benefits and discovered later that it was, to them at least, all benefits and no friends. I've been shit-talked many a time. If you want to fuck me and leave, that's totally fine. I understand that situation and I'm not going to whine about it. But if you want to fuck me and leave so you can tell your friends all the ways that I'm a loser that's good for nothing but sex? Get out of my life.

As it turned out, Tink mostly said positive things about me. Those positive things were pretty much entirely about my dick and my ability to fuck her, but it's not as though she and I sat around reading each other poetry so I was mainly just pleased to know she wasn't being rude.

And of course, Creeper talking so openly about my supposed sexual prowess was more than enough to make me hard. She'd scooted closer to me on the couch during the discussion until she was right next to me. My dick was snaked down my thigh so the bulge in my jeans was fairly obvious, and Creeper wasted no time in "accidentally" placing her hand on my leg over it, whereupon she exclaimed, "Oh my gosh, is that your...?"

Let me choose this moment to say that Creeper has not, nor ever will, win big at the Oscars. I appreciated her attempts of flirting for what they were, but everything she did felt painfully forced. I knew she wanted to fuck me, but she was going through a very long dance to get there. And since I knew I wasn't going to fuck her, I decided to shut it down.

"Hey, look, I feel like I need to be up front but I also don't want to be rude. I'm not going to have sex with you. I'm glad you took the time to talk to me and that's genuine. I did want to clear the air on a lot of things and I feel like we did that. I'm not going to tell Tink about what happened so you should be okay."

She looked a bit crestfallen at this and countered with, "You don't think I'm pretty?"

I shook my head and explained that her looks had zero to do with it, telling her that if Tink found out she'd be homeless and I wasn't sure what kind of revenge she'd seek out on me, to boot.

She got huffy and told me that it wasn't like Tink and I were dating. The conversation felt like it was quickly devolving into an argument so I sighed and told her that I had no problem with us seeing each other in a friendly way but that was all it was going to be. Tink and I had an arrangement and it works. At that point I was already thinking of all the work I needed to get done and was trying to make a hasty exit.

Creeper went a step further than I expected when she grabbed my dick right through my jeans. She wasn't acting or being coy anymore. "What if we had an arrangement too?" she asked. I'm not going to lie - she had crazy eyes.

"I don't see that happening," I said calmly, while internally I wondered what my parents would say when they have to identify my body with my pants around my ankles. "I don't know a way it could happen that wouldn't just be complicated and result in bad things for both of us."

She squeezed my dick through my jeans and ran her hand up and down it. "It could be like a one time thing," she said.

Now, I'm going to be totally fair in this moment and say I did exactly fuck-all to stop her from jerking me off over my pants, or scooting closer to me, or any of the myriad other things she did to try and get in my pants. I don't want it to seem like I'm portraying myself as innocent and Creeper as a total hot mess manipulator. I think if I'd stood up and said, "Bye, Felicia" that would have definitely been the end of it. But I didn't.

"I don't know," I said. But inside I did know. If she was going to offer something up in that moment I was probably going to take it. Unless that something was either, "I need to cut your dick off because I'm making a necklace" or "I just need a quick minute to talk about the Lord." The mix of uncomfortableness, fear, and stimulation of my dick had seen to it that I was going to make a bad decision.

She had a hand on my arm next and she looked excited. She knew I wasn't going anywhere. "I haven't done anything with a guy in three years," she said. "And never with a guy as hot as you."

Side note: I'm not hot, I'm about as average as it could possibly get. Which told me all I needed to know about Creeper's dating history right in that moment.

She moved my hand to her tits and I squeezed one through her baggy t shirt. It was even bigger than I thought it was. I felt her fat nipple harden up under my palm.

She bit her lip and whispered, "I can do something Tink can't do. You'll like it."

I blinked and reflected on that for a minute. She was obviously going to suggest tit fucking. Or at least, I hoped she was, because it was the only thing I could think of while squeezing her enormous breast. I had one last moment where I eyed the exit but my face quickly turned right back to Creeper's chest. I felt her fingers work their way up to the head of my cock through my pants, gently caressing me. It was too late for me. The part of my brain capable of being rational had long since shut down in absolute protest. So I nodded.

She got off the couch and sank down to her knees, crawling over between my legs. She paused for a second and told me to wait, then she jumped up and ran over to turn out the lights. It's not my first rodeo where a partner would only fuck in pitch darkness, so I let it go. Whatever makes her comfortable.

She crawled back between my legs and started unfastening my pants, and I lifted my hips up so she could pull my jeans down to my ankles. I kicked off my shoes and she pulled my jeans all the way off and threw them to the side, then knocked my legs apart so she could position herself completely between my legs. I hadn't bothered to wear underwear because...well, I just don't always wear underwear. I don't know why and you don't care to explore my weird little idiosyncrasies that close.

She picked my cock up with both her hands and explored it. This is my favorite part of any kind of sex with a new person. That exploration phase. It's an amazing feeling, just having somebody handle my cock and look at it, trying to get to know all the bumps and ridges.

I felt her smile in the dark and heard her say, "Wow, you're even bigger than this one black guy I did it with."

Mmm. Yes. Good old casual racism. I was happy in that moment that the lights were out because I know I wasn't able to keep the look of disgust off my face. "Yeah...cool," I said. "So what is it you can do that Tink can't?" I wanted her to focus in on the action in the hopes that she wouldn't talk again.

She leaned in and started to lick my cock head. She gave me about a million tiny licks. Her technique was a little lacking so I gave her some small instruction. Told her to lick in broader strokes, to try sucking the head while working her hands on the shaft. She wasn't feeling it. "Just let me do it my way, baby," she said. "You're gonna love it."

I'm not going to lie. I didn't love it.

She continued in this manner for about ten minutes, to the point where I was preparing to just straight up tell her that I was never going to cum unless we changed things up a bit. I debated on offering up something for her, thinking if I made her cum that I could make up an excuse to leave. And if I sound like an asshole right now, I'm okay with that opinion because I was feeling like one. I was uncomfortable. The situation was awkward. And I wanted to leave.

Fortunately, she stopped. Pulling up from my cock, shiny with her eleventy billion hummingbird licks, she said, "Are you ready?"

I nodded. Then realized she couldn't see me. "Yes," I said.

That was when she pulled her shirt off. I knew she wasn't wearing a bra from earlier, when I'd felt her up through the shirt. I found myself wishing I had one of Tink's thousands of candles from her room because I really wanted to see those tits in all their glory. But alas, it was not to be.

Thankfully Creeper did me one better. I felt her naked breasts hoisted up to rest on my thighs and I silently thanked Jesus. I'm an atheist, but I still like to believe that JC exists and spends most of his time hooking dudes up with situations like this. Like, "Hey, you're probably never going to see my eternal heavenly palace because of all the sinning you do, but here's a little mortal taste of it."

When she pushed those tits together around my cock, and I felt the enormity of them completely envelop me, I had a singular, clear moment that I debated on making this more than a one-time arrangement. Her tits were awesome. I'm not going to lie and claim that her titfuck was the greatest I've ever had in my entire life, but I will say that it was the first time that entire evening that I let out a 100% genuine moan.

Creeper, I suspect, is not super great at sex. If that not-blowjob she gave is any indication, I think she is also not open to getting better at it. However, she knows exactly what she's doing with her tits. She moved on me with a plan and a purpose, her entire upper body sliding up and down rhythmically, causing me to completely disappear into her cleavage one moment, and just barely pop out the top the next. She dipped her head down like an angel (again, I'm really postulating on the absolute 24/7 fuckfest I suspect heaven is) and stuck her tongue out so that the head of my cock came to rest there on every single upstroke. It was fantastic.

So fantastic that I came in less than five minutes. Not joking. I don't know if it was the long and awkward build up to that moment or if she is some kind of savant at tit fucking but she got me there way earlier than I expected her to. I barely was able to choke out, "Oh, fuck, I'm cumming," before my cock started pulsing uncontrollably, my cum blasting out and hitting her face and then under her chin before pooling around her collarbone and in her cleavage.

She waited until I was done and then silently pulled back, keeping her tits pushed together so as not to spill anything, and then ran to the bathroom to clean up. I sat in a stupor on the couch, breathing heavy, wondering what the fuck had just happened.

She came back into the room, already wearing a new t shirt, and turned on the light. She sat on the opposite side of the couch and said, "Told you."

"You sure did," I said, picking up my jeans.

"I won't tell Tink," she said.

"Okay," I confirmed. "And this was fun, but it won't happen again."

She shrugged and said, "Not unless you want it to." Then she traced a finger around her hard nipple through her shirt.

I didn't acknowledge that last statement, once again reiterating that this was a one time thing, just as we'd said before. I felt that old familiar guilt, so I asked if she wanted me to return the favor to her in any way. She made a face and told me she doesn't let any guy put his face down there because it's dirty. Okay. I dropped the issue, and with a few quick goodbyes, I left.

That was the last time I had any kind of encounter with both Creeper OR Tink. I don't know if Tink found out somehow but she basically ghosted on me after that evening. I never heard anything further on the subject so I still don't know the reason she disappeared on me, but it's not the first time a FWB just ceased contact.

In a lot of ways I was relieved. The shades of vindictiveness in Tink I saw always made me nervous and the situation with Creeper made the whole thing look like a grenade. I saw that grenade for what it was in the moment and I still did something stupid, so I definitely can't claim to be a forward-thinking individual.

tl;dr The only sex that happens in this story is me eating out my FWB and getting a titfuck from her creepy roommate. The rest is just regretful details of the never-ending shame I feel.