I love my life. With a devoted husband and two beautiful children I live happily and comfortably enough. People always comment about how we are the ideal family. Yet I always find myself yearning to go back in time. Back to another lifetime. When things were oh so simpler, when life was not so complicated. Back when pleasure could be had for pleasure’s sake and not carry any baggage with it.
When I was away in my second year at college I decided to live off-campus. It was cheaper than staying at the dorm where I spent my freshman year and also promised to be a better environment for studying without all the distractions that came with dorm life. The place where I eventually stayed was a small two-bedroom house fifteen minutes away from the school. It was owned by relatives of my sole roommate and the rent was unbelievably cheap, amounting to little more than covering the utility bills and real estate tax. My roommate was a guy, by the way.
Mark was not my boyfriend. In fact, I did not even know him before we roomed together. He was just some random guy who had posted an ad on a campus bulletin board. But when we moved into the house we became close friends almost overnight. We discovered that we had similar tastes in music, movies, and wine, among other things, and I almost began to think of him as the brother that I never had. In spite of our new-found closeness, or perhaps, in some way because of it, we each kept our own separate circle of friends. Our social lives never intersected.
Mark also attended the University. He was a conscientious a student, as was I, and that, I believe, had been the deciding factor in his choosing me over other potential roommates. Our study habits complemented each other. On any given weekday night you could find either one of us at the kitchen table studying while the other was hunched over the coffee table in the living room doing the same. During the weekends we both kicked back and generally went our separate ways, out and about with our friends. There were, however, nights when we both stayed home without any plans.
Those nights when Mark and I were home together with nothing to do, our common tastes of music, movies and wine kept us entertained. If HBO did not have any movies that interested us, we would pop in a few CDs, open a bottle of wine and simply talk all night. We had discussions that were hours long. No topic was off limits. Our talks morphed from one subject into another. We would spend a typical night talking about everything from the existence of God and the Devil to the funniest cartoons of our childhood. One particular night, while we were well into the second bottle of wine, our conversation drifted to the concept of fuck buddies, popularly known today as friends with benefits.
I do not know who actually brought the subject up but quickly we both became equally enthused about it. The whole idea of sex without commitment or emotional involvement was compelling. The advantages were endless and neither of us could come up with any downside. The more we discussed it, the more intrigued we were and we both began to envision each other as our own fuck buddy. At least, I did and I simply cannot imagine Mark not having the same thoughts.
Since it was the first day of my period, I knew that I would not allow things to go any further than mere discussion, no matter how horny our talk was making me. Tactfully I shifted our chat to another subject and after another glass of wine or two we started to nod out.
The next day neither one of us rekindled that hot conversation. Mark must have thought that maybe I had too much wine last night and the opinions that I expressed about friends with benefits had only been the wine talking. Like the gentleman that he was he never brought up the subject again.
The following Saturday I awoke early. Very early. This was part of the plan that I was hatching all week. Mark was an early riser and that he took a shower at 6:30 every day, whether he had somewhere to go or not. That day I was determined to take my shower and be out of the bathroom before Mark got out of bed.
After the fuck buddy conversation that I had with Mark last week I could not help but think about what it would be like to be intimate with him. Each morning after my alarm woke me, I lingered in bed and let carnal thoughts of Mark flood my mind, picturing him naked, visualizing him on top of me and wondering if he had any quirks and what kind of appetite he had.
That Saturday morning after my shower I laid on my bed once again thinking those naughty thoughts about Mark. The telltale squeak of mattress springs in the room nextdoor told me that he had just gotten out of bed. Now the hiss of water rushing through the pipes that passed above me in my bedroom ceiling told me that he was in the bathroom. By now he must be in the shower and I could envision him lathering up his muscular body. Naked under my robe, I opened it while fantasizing about my roommate.
My nipples were already firm and I squeezed them thinking about how Mark might be rubbing the bar of soap down his hard chest. My hand slid down my body copying my image of Mark. When I pictured him soaping up his cock and balls, I slipped my hand into my own sex where I was expectedly wet and I worked my natural lubricants up onto my eager clit. In no time at all a mini orgasm took me. Working my fingers faster I yearned for more. Then suddenly the sound of the water gushing through the pipes ceased. The waiting was torturous. Anxiously I strained my ears to pick up any sound that would tell me what Mark was doing. When I heard the click of his bedroom door I made my move.
Barefoot in the hallway outside Mark’s bedroom, I heard the squeaks of those mattress springs. He was on his bed. Carefully I turned the doorknob. It was unlocked. When I pushed the door inward I saw Mark sitting on the edge of his bed. He was clad only in white jockeys and it looked like he was just about to put his socks on when I came in. Looking up at me he had a shy smile. It was a smile of surprise, not embarrassment. We had lived together several months at that point but never saw one another in their underwear. Right now Mark was not the slightest bit self-conscious about me seeing him in his tightie-whiteys.
Before Mark was able to say a word I was standing in front of him and I pushed his shoulders with both my hands knocking him backward onto the bed. Grabbing the elastic waistband of his underwear I pulled them down. No one spoke. Mark helped me by lifting his feet out of his jockeys as I knelt down in front of him.
Moving between Mark’s legs, I positioned my face before his sex and inhaled his virile muskiness beneath the fresh fragrant scent of bath soap. My tongue lifted the warm soft skin of his sack as I licked his balls. His fine curly hairs tickled my face. Progressing upward with my licks I caressed his hard member all the way to its tip. Mark moaned the whole time. After circling his cap a few times with my tongue I descended onto his hard cock.
My mouth slid down on Mark’s erection. My tongue encircling it. Bobbing up and down I sucked it tenderly. I squeezed his balls while I blew him. Aware of their sensitiveness I made sure that my caresses were gently. When the muscles in Mark’s thighs tightened and became very hard I knew he was getting close so I sucked him harder and faster. He began to shake, almost vibrating. Then he came. His load shot into my mouth so fast and so fully that my cheeks swelled before I could completely swallow it. Sliding up and down on his cock I sucked it until I pulled out the last drop of his warm cum.
Standing up I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Mark laid there on the bed with a dazed smile spread across his face while I opened my robe. It was my turn now. My robe slid off my shoulders and fell to the floor. Climbing quickly onto the bed I straddled Mark’s chest. His jaw dropped as if he were about to speak but I put a finger on his lips to hush him. Inching forward on his hard chest I could feel my juices smearing on his skin. When I positioned myself onto his face his tongue met me there. He knew what he had to do. He knew what I wanted.
As I rocked forward and backward on Mark’s face, his chin pressed against my ass and his tongue ravished my pussy. Pushing firmly down on him, I forced my clit against his upper lip and I grinded it there. His tongue poked and explored and touched every sensitive spot that needed touching. I rode his face as if it were a bareback stallion. Oh my God it felt so good!
A tiny burst of heat exploded deep within the core of my pussy. It faded as quick as it appeared and then ignited again and lingered. It began to grow slowly at first and then quickly the heat radiated outward spreading throughout my body. The sounds of Mark’s mouth and tongue working at my wet pussy filled the room. My nipples tingled and I squeezed them between my fingers. They felt as though they were leaking. Not milk, but warm bolts of electric. I moaned at the sensation. Suddenly another pulse of pleasure overcame me. It emanated from my clit and washed over me like a wave smashing on the beach. It was so powerful and wonderful that I gasped and then screamed out. Riding this sweet orgasm to its end, I slid back and forth on Mark’s face the entire time.
When I lifted myself off Mark, his face was drenched from my pussy and his cock was standing at attention. Both of these sights kept me turned on and I wanted more. Up until now Mark still had his legs draped over the edge of the bed. Now he wiggled on his back until his body was completely on the bed with his head resting on the pillow. We talked and laughed and we joked about how nice it was to finally have our very own fuck buddies. While Mark spoke I playfully cleaned his face with my tongue like a cat. This distracted him somewhat but not as much as when I started to stroke his cock.
Mark’s cock was hard and ready for me and I was consumed by the urge to ride his it the same wild enthusiastic way I had ridden his face. But Mark had that same itch and, as I was getting ready to swing my leg over his hip to mount him, he took charge. With a quick sweep of his muscled arm he pushed me down onto the mattress. Before I could object (not that I would) he was on top of me. Opening my legs I welcomed him and he poked at my sopping pussy with his cock. In an instant he slid inside me. When I locked my legs around his hips he pushed in deep. The mattress creaked. The bedframe collided with the wall again and again. Mark pounded his body into mine. It was heaven! I hadn’t been laid in I could not remember how long and I was relishing every pump of Mark’s cock inside my hungry pussy.
Grabbing Mark’s ass I pulled him into me each time he pushed and I released him when he withdrew. My tugs on him were in unison with his pumps and it almost felt like I was masturbating myself with a human dildo. But it was better than that. So much better. My muscles and nerves held the memory of the orgasms that rocked me only minutes ago and yet my body was begging for more.
Just one more! Oh please, my dear buddy, just one more! Those words raged in my mind but never passed my lips.
Mark ever the gentleman granted my wish and I came like I never came before. Convulsing and screaming I clamped my legs so tight around him and clawed at his body. Then before I completely calmed Mark erupted inside me. The pulse of heat when he shot his cum into me felt so wonderful. When he finished he remained on top of me and the room grew eerily silent.
The collisions of the bed against the wall had ceased and the mattress squeaked no longer. Our heavy breathing calmed to inaudible rhythms and neither of us spoke. Then, when Mark raised his head and his eyes met mine, we both burst out laughing.
My fuck buddy relationship with Mark continued for another year and a half. We fucked vigorously and often. When we were bored, we fucked. When we were stressed, we fucked. When we wanted to celebrate some occasion, we fucked. Before and after big tests. Holidays when we were homesick. Groundhog Day. Any excuse was good enough. It was an ideal relationship. The sex was fantastic. We were never left wanting. We liked each other but never allowed ourselves to get emotionally involved. It was a beautiful thing.
When Mark graduated (the year before I did) we parted ways (after one final celebratory fuck). With him gone, his family allowed me to continue to rent the house during my final year at the university. My new roommate was also a guy but there was no chemistry between us and I never entertained the idea of having recreational sex with him. A good fuck buddy is a once in a lifetime thing, I suppose.
Mark and I haven’t kept in touch and I have absolutely no idea about what he did with his life since our time together. I often think about him and wonder if he ever reminisces about our fuck buddy days the way that I do. As I said before, today I have a wonderful family and a happy life and I would love to say that I would never consider trading my present life for any other. But if I am honest, I have to admit that if Mark knocked on my door today I would probably leap into his arms and fuck his brains out.
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