This is the story of breaking up with my girlfriend, moving cities, and starting a university degree during which I would entangle my life with two beautiful girls living in a small, intimate share-house.
This is the story of my life at Lamington Avenue.
After I finished high school, I remained in my hometown after getting serious with my high school girlfriend. We went backpacking and travelled and led a idealistic life of two blissful 18 year old with non-existent responsibility. We worked when we wanted and travelled as we liked. Money didn’t bother us as wherever we stopped we worked in exchanged for free board and food, spending very little. In a way, it was pure; the essence of adventure of two free spirits.
But we were volatile.
It fell apart when my girlfriend fell ill. We returned home so she could heal but during this time she slept with an acquaintance within my friend circle. So, it ended.
Harsh. And hard.
But we weren’t meant for each other. We were just to young to realise.
I was not hugely emotionally healthy looking back; I moved away to study – something my parent had always wanted me to do – and was homeless and looking for a place to live.
Now, this makes my move sound braver or scarier than it actually was; but in reality, the internet made finding a place easy and the Australian government gives degenerates like me more social welfare than there is rice in china. So I was okay.
My search led me find Claire.
Now, obviously her online post didn’t contain photos of herself, merely photos of the house and a description which was in a great location and very cheap. So we organised to meet at the house, have a guided tour and then go out to dinner to see if we were compatible as roommates.
And that when I first saw Claire… And Kerri.
Claire was blonde, adorably cute and looked like the girl next door. Kerri was a Kiwi; dark hair, dark eyes and tan skin. And just the best body; toned frame with great size breasts considering her size. They were both gorgeous.
At one point during that dinner, the girls burst out laughing when Claire got her phone out. I thought I must have said something lame or the girls had an in-joke that I was clearly unaware about. But they were both staring at me with incredulous faces. Not knowing what I’d said, I took a bite out of my burger and reached for my beer. It turns out Claire had stalked me on Facebook and had found a photo of me topless which she had accidentally kept open on her screen. They’d thought I’d seen it.
Fast forward two weeks and the girls had invited me to live with them. As was typically young and gleeful then, I told all my mates how I was living with the two most beautiful girls. We would argue of who we thought was prettier. Typically the outcome was always a mixed result; both Claire and Kerri were as gorgeous as they were different.
Claire and I fast become inseparable. We had the same sense of humour, liked doing the same young and stupid things like stealing street signs, day time drinking and making up living room games which often ended up with us drinking and jumping all over the furniture pretending the ground was lava. Kerri worked full-time in hospitality and was more much serious – or, arguably, sensible – and would sometimes act like a mother to Claire and I.
We all just clicked.
The girls were super keen to throw me a moving-in party so belatedly after about two months we decided to officially host a shindig instead of the usual drunken weekend debauchery we would regularly host.
Claire got uncharacteristically drunk – as opposed to her typical level of happy rowdiness – and I ended up putting her to bed relatively early. As I put a sick-bucket beside her bed and pulled her sheets up over her, she grabbed at my arm pulling me to sit rather awkwardly on the edge of the bed. Without thinking I leaned down to give her a good night kiss but instead of her cheek my lips brushed against her lips. As our lips touched, her lips parted happily and pressed firmly into mine.
I was shocked. It seemed to happen so quickly and ended just as suddenly. I remember whispering “good night” to her as I shut her door and left.
And that was it. Neither Claire, nor I acknowledged our drunken kiss the next morning. I was surprised that I’d kissed her, however seemingly innocently, and I assumed that she had not remembered it considering her state.
I carried this belief for weeks, until one night when Claire proved me wrong. She had remembered it.
It was afternoon. Claire and I were home alone as Kerri had gone to work as normal. We planned to hit the seedier pub area of the city for a uni mixer event, but neither of us seemed content to wait until the night arrived to kick-off the festivities. So in our impatience, we decided to go to the local pub – a fairly rough ‘tradie’ pub on the street corner – which sold very cheap booze.
It began immediately, with the conversion steering toward sex and the list of “initiation tasks” the girls had set for me since I had moved in. Claire teased me that I had yet “christened” the house by bringing any girls home yet. I teased her that I hadn’t exactly seen any boys doing the post-coital morning walk of shame coming out her door either.
Tonight there was a chemistry between us. An intangible magnetism that neither of us attempted to discourage.
But after about eight drinks each and as the time grew later and later, neither of had mentioned leaving to join our friends. Drunkenly we left the pub and stumbled back in the direction of our house. We found opportunities to touch each other whenever pseudo-appropriately possible. I remember stumbling and gently tripping into her and instead of righting myself, I lingered, touching her. She laughed, a smile in a her eyes.
She looked up at me with blue eyes, her lips turning from a smile into a pout.
“You didn’t stay after you kissed me the other night,” she said, more quietly than normal. “You could have stayed.”
Even after so many drinks, I didn’t know how to respond. I knew right then that I could kiss her. As close as I already was to her, I would only have to slightly lean closer…
But I holding myself back. This was my roommate. Everything would change. I liked my new life with the girls. Goofing off with Claire, creating new games together, Kerri telling us to make less noise but then joining in herself.
Claire stood silently looking up at me. She was so beautiful in the half darkness of the tree lined street. I wanted her so bad.
I stopped thinking. And kissed her.
The moment my lips touched her, Claire gently parted her lips. She let out a soft moan of approval. Her lips were warm and open to me as our tongue gently touched. Within a instant, all semblance of my previous self-control was gone.
I pulled Claire into me, the curves of her body fitting perfectly against me. I wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her tight as my other hand reached up to stroked her hair. With our bodies pressed against each other and our kissing growing faster and faster, I could feel my penis growing rock hard within my pants. The long-held desire I’d felt inside of me for Claire became raw and I needed her more than I needed anything. Surely she could feel the length of my cock pressing against her naval?
Claire ground her hips into me, pressing exactly it the right spot.
I pulled my lips away, holding her body close with my arms. “We need to go home,” I said looking her straight in the eye.
She pressed her hips into mine, again grinding herself against my hard penis. She smiled. Even in the poor light of the street lamps I could see the glint in her eye.
“Claire, I want you.”
“Lucky we are close by…”
She turned and quickly started towing me by the arm back towards our house.
The moment the front door closed we were on each other in a frenzy. First Claire’s top came off, then mine. My pants were next and then Claire’s. We stood in the living room, pressed tightly against each other with nothing but our underwear on. My left hand came up to Claire’s bra clasp; my thumb pressing as my index finger lifted and pulled slightly. Her bra burst open. She took a half step back and eased the straps from either shoulder.
Claire stood in front of me. She had C-cup breast with smallish, pink nipples. The were perkier than most breasts I’d seen. They were perfect.
I stepped closer, pressing myself into her. My lips moved against her lips, hungrily moving down her cheek to her neck. The way her body responded to my touch I knew that she was eager for whatever I was doing. I used my free hand to trace the curves of her abdomen, running my fingers up until they were just shy of the underside of her breast. I lingered before using the palm to gently fill up my hand with her breast, using my fingers to softly tweak her nipple.
Claire let out a soft moan.
The soft fabric of her panties felt so thin against her skin. I could feel like the heat from her pussy as I flitted past it with my hands. Claire was gently pressing her hips against my hand whenever I ventured south, allowing me to feel the wet dampness of her panties.
I continued to kiss her until I felt her squirm underneath me.
“ChoiceBrew, I need you.”
In a rush I pulled her panties off, followed by mine leaving them discarded. I grabbed Claire’s hand. Her room was closer. We were almost running.
At her door, I turned, grabbing her tightly. She seemed to pull into me, groaning as I kissed her deeply. I pushed her down into bed, allowing my weight to press into her. Even on her back, her boobs stood tall. I bent my head to tease her hard pink nipples with my tongue.
“ChoiceBrew… I need you now,” she said with an even mixture of pleading and force.
I swept some loose hair across her face, kissing her suddenly gentle. Claire parted her legs, allowing me passage. The tip of my hard cock found her blissfully saturated hole. I paused, letting her feel the tip of my shaft press against her threshold.
She looked up at me with doe-eyes. I edged in, pulsating, feeling myself slide into her.
Claire squirmed underneath me. “ChoiceBrew…” she complained as I continue to slide an inch inside her before removing myself back to her entrance. Her arms reached behind me, pressing her hands against my low back trying to pull me inside of her. Claire moaned softly with each pulse…
I plunged in.
Claire cried out, throwing her head up toward to bed head. I tightly wrapped my arms around her to enclose her within me. I begun circularly grinding my hips, in and out. Claire moaned as if her breath was escaping her. With her eyes closed and her mouth open, it was as perfect an imagine as I had seen with my own two eyes. Her lips opened to mine and another little gasp escaped from her mouth. She copied my rhythm, our bodies grinding against each other.
“Oh god,” she breathed. “Fuck me.”
Her breathing started to rise as I increased the cadence. I pulled a hand underneath her hips, lifting her legs to wrap around me, her hips now angling upward so that I sunk even deeper into her.
“Oh fuck,” she whispered into my neck. “Don’t stop.”
Her breathing gradually reached a crescendo. Her eyes clenched closed. Her moaning turned from a pant into more of a scream. With her arms, she clawed at my back. She threw her head back.
All of a sudden a rush of warm liquid squirted from Claire’s vagina and hit me in the naval. I stopped, shocked, the length of my dick still half buried within her. Another stream quickly followed, slashing off me onto the sheets.
I quickly recovered and continued my rhythm to help maximise her orgasm. But my head was whirling. Claire, my beautiful roommate who I had so quickly grown so close to, was a squirter. And I was covered in her juice. I got a wave of euphoric life-appreciation and started to fuck her. This time hard.
I flipped her over onto her stomach, pulling her by the hips up so that she was on her hands and knees. I quickly went to work, holding her tightly around the waist as I pounded in and out of her. Again, her breathing started to shorten; the moans becoming shrieks. I was allowing the full length of my dick to slide almost all the way out of her before ramming it back in.
Claire came with another stream of warm liquid covering her sheets.
Despite all the drinks I’d drunk that night, I could feel myself wanting and needing to come; especially as I love seeing a girl bent over in front of me so that her hips and waist are exaggerated by their contrast to each other. I was drenched in a combination of salty sweat and Claire’s cum.
I pushed Claire down into the wet mattress, her ass still pointed into the air.
“Do you want me to cum?” I panted, probably sounding as sexy as a 20-pack per day smoker trying to run a marathon.
“Yes,” she cried. “I want it…” She was panting, getting the word out in fragments as I fucked her. “…All over me.”
That was enough for me.
With one last time effort, I pulled myself out of her as she flipped over. Her pink nipples were hard as I came all over perky breasts. There seemed to be so much cum, her boobs looked entirely covered.
As I shot the last cumshot with a groan, Claire reached down to rub three fingers across her covered breasts. She smiled up at me, looking me in the eye as she put one cum-covered finger into her mouth licking it clean before repeating the process…
I fell down next to her. Exhausted and happy.
That night, Claire and I fell asleep on her saturated bed, her blonde hair a mess as she lay on my chest.
At one point, I must have rolled off the wet bed onto the floor, because as the sun came through Claire’s open curtains the next morning I woke up from using a stuffed bear she owned as a pillow on the carpet.
I quickly got to my feet, my mind focusing on the events of last night. Claire was naked lying diagonally across the bed. I could see my dried cum still coating her tits.
Claire woke as I bend down to kiss her. She smiled up at me, with that same tinkle in her eyes – the smile I’d seen in the street lamp light outside the pub. Her phone buzzed as I lay down next to her. She reached to get it.
Her eyes popped.
“Oh no…” she said with wide eyes. I looked at her questioningly, trying to see the phone screen.
“Kerri,” Claire said. “Our clothes and underwear are still on the living room floor.”
My heart sunk a little. My only hesitation about Claire had been not wanting things to change. But now it seemed Kerri knew about us, meaning that the dynamic would change.
“She knows?” I asked, trying to be fairly calm but stating the obvious.
Claire nodded. “Hold on, she is still typing…”
Her phone gave a half buzz and her mouth half fell open.
“She said she is jealous,” Claire said. “She wants to know the details. Like, very specific details…”
This story was originally written here.
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