Month: July 2020

The Roommate

July 24, 2020 — Leave a comment

The Lovers Diary Part II,

A number of my best friends used to number the guys I was fucking because there would be many at once. Too many stories. Too many cocks to keep track of. I love to be organized, I tried my best to have a reliable day for a guy and if i liked him, he would eventually outpace the rest and become my everyday sweetheart. I am a huge slut when single. Boredom maybe? I honestly don’t know. It is like an entire new person comes out, but she is me, and I am her.

When in a relationship, I am loyal.

Let’s look back to my very hot roommate many years ago…

I lived in a house when I was nineteen or twenty with two best friends and their friend. He was hot as hell. He could do backflips out of nowhere. I love a good show-off. I had to have him. My room was next to his. He had a girlfriend he constantly cheated on. My two best friends, who were together and are still married in this same house, I loved them and I love them still. We had threesome fun once or twice. A story for another post. It was a slutty household. I can’t remember if they banged him as well, I would have to ask.

I feel like when you are in your twenties, you don’t give a crap about some morals. Or maybe, for some people they never grow out of that immaturity or weak frequency of being. At the time, I was such a little shit. I wanted him, and I took him. He let me take him. I don’t remember how or when, but I would sneak into his room and just fuck him. Then finish up, after riding him, go back to my room and carry on with the day. His abs rock hard, such a sexy tan and a gorgeous cock. I remember feeling jealous of the girls he would cheat on his girlfriend with before I took him myself. After I took him, I stopped feeling jealous of the other girls. Ironically, his girlfriend ended up cheating on him and broke up with him. There was a great pleasure to hearing about that my two best friends and I reveled in.

I am the kind of girl who prefers to be riding on top majority of the time, unless being helped to stretch in missionary or it is just helpful for the guy to cum that way. Another best friend of mine at the time wanted to bang my roommate’s best friend, single, and they never did achieve that. She was a lovely, and timid virgin. The four of us would hang out all the time.

The household would drink often, do other extracurricular party favours, and play made-up improv games. I am surprisingly amazing at improv. We would dress the roommate up in my fake fur coat and make him walk down the hallway like a model. I remember when he fell. Isn’t there something sexy about a hot as hell person messing up? I can’t remember how often I fucked him. Probably twice. I have a strict rule to bang someone twice maximum, then I cannot get wet anymore for them. I am not sure why. Unless they are a long-term boyfriend or long-term lover with huge gaps in-between.

I remember riding my roommate, probably ten in the morning. I was in my room, I heard he was up, and I ran into his room, I shoved him to his bed and began kissing him. He slept on one of those crash pads from rock climbing. I’ve noticed over the years how many guys don’t have a bed frame. Just a mattress on the floor. His was the most unique in that it was not even a mattress or a futon. I rode him furiously and kissed him, he came and I flung off and ran into my bedroom. It was less than ten minutes. I always make sure to finish before I let the guy finish. However, I am determined to make sure he cums. I believe in being polite. I will take what I want, and throw you a bone in return. A delicious bone.

Overall, I am fairly shy, reserved, and blend into the background. Unless I see something or someone I want. Then it is full charge ahead. I always get what I want, and I will work for it.

I moved out of that house a couple months later when my best friend of the household became pregnant with her now first child. Today, she tells me she believes her darling daughter is a bit of a diva like me because I was around for part of the pregnancy. Little darling Sagittarius as I am.

After I moved out, I never spoke to the roommate I fucked again, but my two friends talk to him time to time.

xoxo,

Chloe

Camper Van

July 24, 2020 — 1 Comment

Part II, The Roommate

My Lovers Diary Part I,

I loved being in his house, beside the lake. He would rent it for several grand a month to tourists. He had a gardener. One of his many houses, of course. At the time, I played this interior design game religiously, daily. My anchor to mental stability at the time, I suppose. His interior design was gorgeous. Some done by himself.  I did not have press on or crafted nails from a salon the time. He watched me play my little game on my phone, and said to me, “You type like a girl who has had long nails.”

I pause, and think to myself, now that is an astute observation. Nobody had ever before noticed that or at least said it to me. Nobody has said it since. However, now-a-days I am quite the homebody. Yes, there is a very specific way girls with long nails type. Even after not having nails, it is still the way I type. What way is that? Using the flat padding on each finger. One at a time, as opposed to the top of the finger. Observe other peoples fingers after reading this, look at a woman with long fake nails. Now look at a woman with natural nails. Look at a woman with no manicure at all. What do you notice?

He is one of those serial entrepreneurs. Restaurant idea didn’t work out? Meh. Sold it for a cute penny. He travels often, investing in start-ups in San Francisco. Fucking me in his travel van, the kind you think of from Scooby Doo or hippies from Instagram. Perhaps, another money idea, but it was his way to keep stable.  After spending years in corporate boringness in Japan every week for years. Wearing those suits. Urgh, that van was the stability and balance. Licking my ass and fucking me raw in the back of that van, the one you saw rocking in the park, during daytime with muffled moans. That was me and him. Predator to predator escapism. I was his tiger, he was my panther. Curious about me, observing me. Letting his metaphorical teeth gleam from time to time. Never daring to cross me.

I always loved how he looked kind of hippie, this rich, rich, rich entrepreneur with such a slutty taste. I enjoyed his semi-loyalty to me. I enjoyed the van, and how he would steal my Netflix account, how he liked to use the community showers. He would bring me foods and drinks I asked for, as any polite gentlemen should when visiting a lady. How he knew pretty much every restaurant owner in the big city I resided in. I enjoyed how casual and easy our interactions were. Then suddenly, we would be fucking. Like a hungry bear, he would dive towards me. I loved how he is a vegan, yet, had this bad boy essence to him. Something ironic about being a vegan and a previous corporate entrepreneur got to me. The balance.

He loved when I was pregnant, he had never fucked a pregnant girl before. He wished to continue on as my trimester grew. I moved away. I kicked him off my Netflix account before that.

He is probably frolicking in San Francisco or Thailand as usual. 

xoxo,

Chloe

Speck

July 16, 2020 — Leave a comment

There is a vastness

Between you and I.

Further and further,

Until I see, not even a speck.

Out lay my hand

Cool beneath the breeze

Stiff in anticipation.

My eyes begin to blur,

Until I do not see, not even a speck.