My Roommate’s Slavegirl

deeperforme:

meltinggoldanddippingthingsinit:

meltinggoldanddippingthingsinit:

There wasn’t much sense in trying to get anything done before I’d had coffee. I put on my slippers and shuffled into the kitchen. I stopped in the doorway. There was a girl at the stove in white, thigh-high socks, white cotton panties, and a wife-beater poaching eggs. She’s definitely not usually there.

“Erm, hello.”

“Good morning.” She turned around and smiled at me. “Would you like some eggs?”

“Ah… Sure. But, erm, who are you? And how did you get here.”

“Oh! Of course.” She put down the two eggs she had just pulled from the refrigerator and extended a hand “My name is Amethyst. I’m Rick’s slavegirl.”

“Martin.” I shook her hand. Well, this was certainly odd; I knew my roommate had some unusual proclivities, but I never expected him to keep young women as slaves. Amethyst handed me a cup of coffee and returned to the eggs. “I-if you don’t mind my asking, what exactly do you do as a slavegirl.”

Amethyst leaned back against the counter “oh, nothing particularly exciting. I cook for him, clean up around the house a little bit, fix things when they break – I actually fixed your computer last week, so it didn’t just mysteriously fix itself –” she winked “– iron his shirts, massage his back, suck his cock, act as his fuck-toy…” Her eyes were starting to glaze over and she had a dreamy expression on her face.

I had to admit, even though it went against most of what I believe about relationships and gender roles, that was kind of hot. “But why do you do this?” I asked. She looked confused. “I mean, what do you get out of being a slavegirl.”

“Well, not very much, to be completely honest. Rick doesn’t get all that much out of it either; I’m not here often enough to do all of his housework. It’s mostly about the act of service. He receives my service, and in return, I get the pleasure of being of service. After all, servicing him” she giggled “is pleasure.”

She leaned back against the counter, a girlish smile spreading across her face. Then she jumped up “Oh! Did you want your eggs soft or hard?”

“Soft.”

She lifted the eggs out of the pan and on to a plate. I wondered where Rick found this girl, and if there were more like her. As wrong as it felt to admit it to myself, I wouldn’t mind having a slavegirl.

Amethyst set a plate of toast, eggs, and cut up banana down on the table. “Here you are. If you’d like to take care of something that is hard, you’re welcome to fuck me while I make Rick’s eggs.”

“I… Err, what?!” I spluttered.

She pointed at my crotch. I felt my cheeks turning red. “Yes, I’m aware of that! I just, I mean, that’s hardly your responsibility.”

“I’m here to be of service.” She cracked an egg into the pan.

“But isn’t that dangerous?”

“I have a condom.”

“No! I meant, sex while cooking.”

“I’m good at staying focused while being fucked,” she flashed a lascivious smile “I’ve had lots of practice.”

“Well… alright then.” I almost couldn’t believe what I was saying.

The words were hardly out of my mouth before she was untying the front of my bathrobe. It opened to reveal she was right, I was hard. She ran her hand up and down my shaft a couple times, before tearing open the condom wrapper and sticking the tip of the condom itself in between her lips.

She knelt down, moved her hands to my balls, and pressed her lips to the tip of my cock. She opened her mouth and slid her lips down the length of my cock, unrolling the condom onto it as she went. Once she’d fit almost the whole length down her throat, she pulled her mouth off, giving my head am extra little tease with her tongue as she went.

She stood up, grabbed my hand, and led me over to the oven. She bent over invitingly and turned her attention back to cooking eggs. I pulled her little, cotton panties aside and pushed into her. I put my hands on her hips and started thrusting. She moaned, but stayed focused on cooking. I pushed into her over and over, harder and harder. Her moans grew louder and turned into screams, but her hands never left the pan’s handle and spatula. There was no way my roommate couldn’t hear us, she was too loud. He must have known what we were up to, in fact, he probably told her to do it. That idea was so unbelievably hot – being able to just order a woman to go fuck someone else. I felt myself start to cum inside her, and I guessed from the way she tightened around me that she was cumming too.

I pulled out of her, then sat down at the table. She plated the eggs, and added toast and cut up banana, just like my plate had, then balanced the plate on her hand. She poured a cup of orange juice and picked it up with her free hand. Before she left the kitchen, she leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. She bumped the door open with an easy swing of her hips, and walked off to bring Rick his breakfast, bumping the door closed behind her.

Man, I am *so great* at writing sex scenes. </sarcasm>

This is like a classic mcstory from when I read the site every day!