Shelly’s Disbelief
Sometimes I do wonder about the situations I find myself in. But it’s not all bad. Four years in the Air Force paid my way through college, and now I was a grad student with great job prospects and a good bit more maturity than most of my classmates. At 28 I was more financially stable, and I had a good deal more life experience than most college students. I still retained a lot of the habits that I had acquired in the military such as keeping myself in good shape and eating right, plus treating people in general with respect, and this too had served me well. It also explained why I had acquired a 22-year-old roommate. A 22-year-old female roommate that could make a dead man hard. And it explained why I hadn’t laid a hand on her.
I was about to start my third year of graduate school. I had been quite content living on my own. I had been in a pretty serious relationship up until last spring, but that hadn’t ended on the best of terms and I had spent the summer pretty much lying low and licking my wounds. There had been a few casual hook-ups here and there but nothing serious. Once burned, twice shy, they say. Anyway, it had been a quiet summer and I was looking forward to getting started on my final year working toward my Master’s Degree. We were down to the last few days before semester started and the apartment building was bustling with move-ins, mostly fellow grad students. Some I knew, some were newcomers. Most were happy, excited, sharing my eagerness to start the semester. This made the cute pixie-cut blonde in the lobby seem out of place, because she was clearly not happy. She was sobbing.
I have a wicked damsel-in-distress reflex; I couldn’t help myself. I stopped and introduced myself. “I’m Kevin. Can I help you with something?” For a second she froze, staring up at me, tears tracking down her cheeks. She sniffed, then just buried her face in her hands and cried more. As answers go, it was less than ideal. I could either go on about my business or wait her out. I ended up sliding down the wall and getting comfortable sitting on the floor next to her. This gave me the chance to check her out a bit. She looked to be early 20’s, fit, nice figure, at least B-cups under an old T=shirt, and cut-off shorts. It was hard to tell how tall she was, given the near-fetal position she was in, but I was guessing about 5-foot-6 or so. After a few minutes she wound down and noticed me still sitting there. “What are you still doing here?”, she sniffed.
“I’m still waiting on you to answer my question. Can I help you with something? And I gave you my name…..”
“Oh, god, I’m sorry. I’m Shelly. I’m just so upset. I just got here today, ready to move in with my new roommate. We’d set this up online, and my classes start in 3 days. But she’s not here! She cancelled the lease!”
“Didn’t she tell you about this? A call, an email or text?”
“I was driving for the last 2 days from Southern California. She sent me an email but I didn’t notice it until just now.” She brushed her bangs out of her eyes and sniffed again. “She got pregnant. She’s dropping out of her grad program and moving in with her boyfriend.” She tilted her head back and gave a little humorless laugh. “She’s pregnant, and I’m screwed.”
That got a chuckle out of me, and I got to see her smile for the first time. Down, boy, I told myself. She’s six years younger than you and might not even be around here next week. I stood up and offered her my hand. “Let’s go see what we can work out with the manager. I know these people pretty well.”
Good intentions are great, but reality can sometimes suck. The demand for student housing was so high that in just the two days since her now-defunct roommate had released the apartment; it had been snatched up. There was a waiting list over a dozen names long, in case anything else opened up. Calls to neighboring complexes showed the same story. As this went on, Shelly got more and more depressed. She could see the writing on the wall here. We had moved down the street to one of the local lunch spots and grabbed a table. I was nearly as frustrated as she was; I was strongly motivated to try to help this young woman. Who says chivalry is dead? But we weren’t making any progress. “So what now?” she asked.
“Do you have any friends or family in town?” I asked.
“I’m afraid not. I don’t know anyone here. I finished undergrad in San Diego, over a thousand miles from here.” She didn’t look up, just kept chasing the ice around her glass with her straw. “You’re the only person here that I know.”
And that, in a nutshell, is how Shelly ended up moving in with me. I had a nice, comfortable 2 bedroom/2 bath unit and had turned the second bedroom into a study, but it had a futon that would do until we could get Shelly some decent furniture. It was awkward as hell at first given this was all completely unplanned. But we managed. I could have complained at several points but something always stopped me. I moved all my computer gaziantep rus escort and school stuff into my bedroom and let her set up in hers. I tried to help her out with telling her how things worked in the grad department, where to go to get things she needed, etc, but otherwise tried to stay out of the way and let her settle in. She did a decent job of not stepping on my toes or encroaching too much on my turf. I actually had to point out to her a couple of times that the kitchen was half hers and she could actually put at least a coffee mug in the cupboard. After that she started to loosen up. We started to develop our routines, between classes and other activities. We started to get to know each other better. I was always careful to keep things respectful, treating her more like a younger sister than anything else. I was not sure it would be a good idea for me to come on to her, although she was starting to play a role in my private fantasies and masturbation sessions. I had kind of closed that part of me off for several months after Tina had left, but Shelly was reawakening my hormones and libido. She was also very different. She was younger and seemed much more innocent. That surprised me a bit, given that she was a California girl, but that just shows you how far stereotypes will get you. We had talked several times in the evenings and I knew she had had several relationships but nothing really serious. She knew about my military years, and about my two-year relationship with Tina. She also knew that when I talked about Tina, the closer to the end of that relationship I got, the more reluctant I was to discuss it. I could tell she wanted to know more but was willing to respect the fact that I didn’t want to go there. By this point Shelly was getting more socially active, developing a circle of friends of her own and even going out with a few guys she had met. Again, nothing serious, and she promised she wouldn’t be bringing any guys over. “I mean, it would be kinda weird, wouldn’t it? I haven’t told anyone I’m rooming with a guy, let alone an ex-Marine!”, she snorted. “That would kill the mood in a hurry.”
“Air Force, Shell. I was no jarhead.”
“Whatever. You LOOK like a Marine to any nerd in grad school.” She giggled into her wine glass. We had developed a habit of relaxing and talking on the couch with a beer or wine on weekends, if we were both home. I think the alcohol helped loosen up both of us and allowed us to get more personal. We’d been living together for several months by this time.
“That’s because I still work out. Some of these grad school nerds have never seen the inside of a gym before. What do you expect?” Truth was, I’d been working out a lot more since Shelly moved in. I needed the distraction, and there was a little bit of motivation there to keep myself fit. Was I subconsciously preening for her? Maybe. “Anyway, if you need me to I can always make myself scarce. Just give me some advance warning.” I smirked at her. “Especially if it’s going to be all night.”
She choked on her sip of wine at that point. “Yeah, right. Like that’s likely.” Then she got thoughtful. “What about you? I should give you the same consideration, shouldn’t I? I don’t want to, um, interfere in your life either.”
“That’s not a problem right now, Shelly. If it gets there, I’ll let you know.” I hadn’t really thought about it, but could suddenly see how having an attractive female roommate could be a hinderance to a future love life.
“I haven’t seen you go out on a date since I moved in here.” She was staring into her glass, swirling the last bit of wine around gently.
“I know. It really doesn’t have anything to do with you, Shell. I’m just taking some time off from all that. Focusing on my thesis, classes, stuff like that.”
“Did Tina hurt you that badly?” she asked in what was almost a whisper, not looking at me.
Ouch. Where the hell had that come from? It was like a sucker punch in combat training, one you never saw coming. For several seconds I couldn’t think, let alone respond. Finally I got my wits back. “In a way, yes. I guess so.” I took a long pull of my stout.
“I’m sorry, that was prying. I didn’t mean to…”
“No. It’s ok. It’s the truth. Just because I don’t talk about it doesn’t make it not so. And it’s not your fault for being perceptive,” I tried to reassure her.
“I want you to know you can talk about it with me if you need to. God knows I owe you at least that much, after you saved me when I got here.” She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. “I’ve been a little worried about you. I’ve gotten to know a lot of the other women here in the complex. They all drool over you, even the ones in relationships. And yet you’ve never dated any of them. I’ve never seen you go out with a woman. I’m starting to wonder if you’re gay.”
My turn to choke on my drink. “Gay? Hardly! No pun intended.” She giggled at that. “Not that I have a problem with gay guys, I know several. Just not my preference off the menu, so to speak.” We both chuckled. “In the military you end up seeing a lot of naked guys. Ever been in a barracks shower? No, of course not, what am I saying. Let’s just say, lots of shower heads and no dividers. And a whole bunch of 18-24 year old hard bodies. I’ll let you fill in your own blanks.” A funny little squeak made me glance over at her. Shelly had a shocked sort of look to her, and maybe it was my imagination but her nipples seemed to suddenly be a lot more prominent under her thin top. “intrigued?” I asked, then chuckled. “No, you’ve never been in a barracks shower. Something tells me if you had, you’d never have left.”
“Uh… um, wow,” she managed, sounding a little breathless. “I feel like I should be offended by that, but you might have a point.” We laughed even harder at that. “Did any of the guys get a little frisky in there?”
That got her a quick look from me. “That was an unwritten rule. No contact. Nothing that could be misinterpreted. We still operate under the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ doctrine for the most part. If any of them were gay or bi, they knew better than to flaunt it.”
“Pity,” I heard her say under her breath. That told me she was getting tipsy and maybe we should pack it in for the night. But before I could get up off the couch she hit me with another shot. “Kevin, have you ever been with a guy?” I had just been getting up, and it stopped me so that I just ended up dropping back down on the cushion, my jaw practically in my lap. “I know you said you’re not gay, but that doesn’t mean you’re not bi, or maybe experimented a little.”
Suddenly I started getting all the clues, put the pieces together. It was turning her on. She was looking right at me, her voice lower, more breathy. And yes, her nipples were definitely more noticeable. And for my part, I was in serious danger of tenting my gym shorts. Dammit, how did she do that? How did she manage to pounce on the one topic that was simultaneously the most erotic, and the most emotionally painful, of my life? Just like Tina, in a way. Part of me wanted to open up to her and share those experiences with her, experiences that had started out amazing and erotic. But Tina, who had initiated those experiences, had also ruined them. This made me hesitate. I could say nothing. I just sat there looking stupid. Shelly got up and as she passed in front of me she leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the top of my head, then whispered in my ear, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. But just thinking about two guys is so hot…” And with that she retreated to her room.
Well, shit. That had skittered off in an unexpected direction. And now what was I supposed to do? I had been trying to keep this platonic but that sure wasn’t how tonight’s chat had ended. I realized that my reaction had answered Shelly’s question loud and clear, and that she had openly confessed that it turned her on. I knew I was going to be jerking off at least twice before getting any sleep that night. I wondered if she was doing the same in her room.
The next morning I headed off to the gym early; Shelly usually slept in on weekends. I needed the exercise to clear my head. When I got back she was up, still in pajamas, making coffee. “look, I’m sorry about last night. I was out of line,” she started.
“No, you weren’t out of line, Shelly. When did I ever tell you that asking me about my personal life was out of line? I’m the one who should apologize, here. I didn’t handle the question very well.” She didn’t say anything, just kept stirring her coffee. “Do you still want me to answer it?” At that, her eyes snapped up to meet mine, surprised.
“You don’t have to.”
“I KNOW I don’t have to. That’s not what I asked. I asked if you still wanted me to.”
Shelly stood there for a moment, biting her lower lip, looking adorable and vulnerable. Finally, in a soft voice, she spoke. “Yes.”
I nodded, rubbing my sweat towel through my hair. “Okay. I’ll answer your question under one condition. Why do you want to know?” She looked at me, puzzled. “I just want to know why you’re curious. I want to make sure I’m not going to get hurt again. Telling me why you want to know is sort of like, ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’, y’know? You want to know something personal about me. In return, you tell me something personal about yourself.”
Shelly considered that for only a moment, then nodded. “That’s fair. Go grab a shower first.” She wrinkled her nose at me, which made me laugh.
“Wait, the thought of two guys getting hot and sweaty turns you on, but you don’t like a little sweat?”
She just rolled her eyes at me. “Git. And don’t take too long, or I’ll know what you’re doing in there.”
I made it a quick shower, and made sure to put on some briefs under my gym shorts. Something told me tenting was likely and I was still trying to be a gentleman here. Why, I honestly couldn’t have said at that point. When I came out, Shelly was sitting on her end of the couch, her feet tucked up under her, still sipping her coffee. As I sat down I noticed she had made me a cup, too. “Thanks,” I saluted her with my coffee cup, a signal for her to begin.
“You know from last night that I find the idea of two guys together very sexy, and the question of you being possibly gay or bi kinda played into that.” She sipped her coffee and I nodded. That much was obvious. “But I’ve found that image erotic for years, since long before I came here. I’m no virgin, those are rare at my age and especially in California, but my sex life hasn’t been the greatest and it left me with a lot of questions. My longest relationship was with this guy early in college, during my freshman and sophomore years. I had a roommate and he still lived at home with his parents, so having sex was challenging and often quick and unsatisfying, at least from my point of view.”
“You mean he didn’t take care of you? I didn’t think there were still guys like that left out there,” I said, shaking my head.
“Yeah, it was mostly about him. It took me awhile to figure it out. I wasn’t all that experienced, and he had pretty conservative parents and all that. But that wasn’t the main issue for me.” At this point Shelly was squirming a bit, obviously approaching an uncomfortable topic. “Since we often had to be quick, we often didn’t fuck. It’d be a quick hand job or blow job, or if we really had to hurry, sometimes I’d just let him jack off on my tits.” Damn good thing I’d put on those briefs. She was staring down at her own tits at this point, and I honestly don’t think she realized she was circling her right nipple with her forefinger; she was just re-living a memory. “No, what was most upsetting to me was his reaction to his own cum. He acted like he was deathly allergic to his own semen, like it was the grossest thing in existence. He wouldn’t kiss me if I’d sucked him, wouldn’t touch me after a hand job… I mean Jesus, he expected me to take it without complaint but he wouldn’t even hand me a fucking tissue. I mean, really?”
I just nodded in understanding but said nothing, not wanting to interrupt. She continued. “So I put up with it for a good while, because he was a decent guy otherwise and it beat not having a date on weekends, but I just got more and more frustrated as time went on. I started investigating online, and started learning about all kinds of things I had never even heard of. Things that showed me how unevolved my boyfriend was, sexually.”
“What kinds of things?” I gulped. Some of it was even coffee.
Shelly pondered for a moment, then launched into a surprising catalogue of porn topics that didn’t match her sweet innocent demeanor at all. “Cum kissing, cum swapping, cum play, kissing after facial, snowballing, cum massage, that led into oral bisexual play and MMF threesomes, friendly fire, fucklicking, cuckolding, cream pie eating… my god, I had no idea what all was out there. And in NONE of that were the guys avoiding each other’s, or their own, cum.”
I just sat there in shocked silence for a moment. Shelly was actually a little out of breath, like she’d held all of this pent up for a long time and finally it all came out in a rush. She was flushed, and her nipples… hell, she might as well not have bothered with that T-shirt. As for me, even the briefs weren’t much help by this point. In fact they were becoming downright uncomfortable, forcing me to shift positions. Which, of course, she noticed.
“Sorry if that bothered you,” she smirked, clearly not sorry. “But you did ask”.
Phew! Man, it had gotten warm in here. I had to laugh a bit to lighten the mood. “At least now I know what you’re surfing on your computer at night. In fact, I’m willing to bet you watch more porn than I do.”
That got a laugh out of her. “You’re probably right. I could watch that stuff all day. Even running out of batteries wouldn’t stop me.” She sipped her coffee again. “Okay, there’s your answer. I’m turned on by guy-on-guy combinations, at least the oral stuff. I can’t say anal does anything for me. And it all stems from having a jerk boyfriend years back who treated his own cum as toxic waste. I therefore get turned on by guys who aren’t afraid of their own cum, or someone else’s. Does that fulfill your condition?”
“To be honest, it’s a lot more than I expected. And yes, it does.” I took a gulp of my own coffee, which was starting to cool. “So. Your question to me last night was, had I ever been with another guy?” Shelly was rapt at this point, leaning forward slightly, eyes partially closed but looking right at me. “I think you already know the answer to that, Shell. Of course I have.”
I hadn’t even noticed she’d been holding her breath, until she let it out in a rush. “Oh, wow. I mean, just… wow.” The effect this was having on her was astonishing. If there’s anything more beautiful than a beautiful woman, it’s a beautiful woman aroused. There was no way I was stopping now. She was practically pleading with me with her eyes, desperately wanting to hear details but terrified to ask.