Roommate's Revenge Blowjob

Friday evening in. No plans. No Bangalore traffic to battle, and absolutely no people hassling me. Just me, some vintage A.R. Rahman playing softly on the speakers, and a massive, heavy-bottomed pan of slow-cooking meat. After the absolute bullshit week I'd had at the tech park, it seemed like sheer perfection. All I wanted to do was sit in my room, watch old Tamil movies, and not have to utter a single word to anyone. The bubbling pot of rich red gravy seemed to gabble happily in agreement, each popping bubble of ghee a burst of encouragement. That, or the sheer exhaustion was catching up with me and I was finally going crazy. Who knew.

The kitchen door pushed open and I shared a casual, roomy nod with Nithya. There were five of us sharing this overpriced old townhouse in Indiranagar in total, but Nithya was one of only two flatmates that I actually liked or tolerated. She had her 'corporate boss-bitch' suit on, so she must have only just gotten out of an Uber from her office. I'd always thought that she worked way too hard for HR people who all sounded like greedy, dickhead clowns, but the long days did often mean she pranced around the house in her sharp work clothes all evening.

So, I got the pleasant surprise of watching her totter around the kitchen in one of those tailored black pencil skirts that always looked like they were on the verge of tearing at the seams due to her incredibly thick, South Indian hips and heavy ass. Not something I minded at all. Not even a little bit.

She dropped her laptop bag on the counter and sniffed the air curiously, her nose crinkling.

"Basic chicken curry, is it?" she asked, kicking off her heels.

I sighed dramatically and rolled my eyes at about forty percent authenticity.

"No. It's a slow-cooked Mutton Ghee Roast, and not some basic bitch meal for PG-dwelling plebs. If you don't go low and slow with the Byadagi chilies, then there's really no point in—"

"Yeah, yeah, MasterChef Sanjeev Kapoor at it again. Save the bullshit for someone who actually cares. Whatever it is, it smells damn good," she interrupted, leaning against the marble counter.

I turned to look at her properly, genuinely intrigued. She was usually much cattier after a long day of dealing with escalations, and usually much more teasing of my culinary efforts. A true philistine when it came to food, but at least she was broadly funny and self-aware about it.

Getting any compliment at all from her was definitely out of the ordinary. She did have heavy bags under her eyes, but those big, expressive brown eyes seemed bright and hyper-focused tonight. Beneath them, a light dusting of makeup didn't completely hide the natural flush of her cheeks. She was pretty when she smiled, and genuinely intimidating when she didn't. The rest of her body was pretty much all soft, deep curves. In her own words, she was "fully grown" and heavy in all the right places.

Face: Cute/10. Personality: Funny but mean/10. Body: Hell yeah/Fuckable.

"Listen, when you're done staring at my chest and trying to think of a witty comeback, I wanted to ask if you're free this evening," she said, crossing her arms.

"Um, yeah. I'm pretty burnt out, though. Just gonna head upstairs and blob about with my food. Probably not up for going to a pub or anything," I replied cautiously.

"Oh no, nothing like that."

It looked like she was chewing the inside of her lower lip, thinking intently as she looked at me. Looking me up and down. Something was definitely up with her; this was unheard of levels of shyness for Nithya. Or whatever it was.

I pointed my wooden ladle at the stovetop, breaking the weird tension.

"You want some? There's plenty of the roast."

The offer distracted her from her powerfully unknowable feminine musings. She stepped close, took the wooden spoon from my hand, and tasted the thick, spicy gravy she'd so rudely dismissed earlier. Her full lips latched onto the edge of the spoon for a few seconds, and she made a wet slurping noise that was incredibly sexy if you were the type of guy who was currently going through a massive dry spell. Which I absolutely, definitely was.

"Mmmm. Okay. Yeah, that's a fair deal," she murmured, her eyes widening slightly at the taste.

She waved the spoon at me energetically, like she was casting some sort of black magic spell on me, before handing it back. As she did, her warm hand slid down the handle and deliberately lingered on mine.

"What's a fair deal?" I asked, my voice suddenly a bit tight.

"You're gonna help me with something later in the living room. And in return, I'll let you pay me with a plate of this amazing Mutton Ghee Roast. It's a deal."

"That sounds like you're just taking advantage of me twice..."

"I think you'll enjoy it. Trust me."

I did a small, cartoonish gulp like I was a side character in an old sitcom. There was something overtly flirty and promising about her expression that was scrambling my tech-fried brain a little. It was a completely new side of her I'd not seen before. Or at least, not directed at me seriously. I liked it. And, not to sound like a simp or someone who was going through a long and arduous dry spell, which I probably wasn't, but I felt warm and excited that she was showing me this side. She was a gorgeous woman, fully grown; she could probably have dinner with any guy in Koramangala she wanted. I enjoyed the fact that she chose me.

About twenty minutes later, I was sprawled out on one of the dingy, mismatched sofas our shitheel landlord had so graciously provided for us. A few minutes after that, Nithya joined me. Disappointingly, she had swapped the tight work skirt for some baggy, faded pyjama bottoms, but she'd also apparently swapped her underwired work bra for absolutely no bra beneath her thin cotton t-shirt. Swings and roundabouts, then. I tried, and failed miserably, not to gape at the heavy, shifting outline of her nipples pressing through the fabric.

It took a monumental amount of self-control, but I somehow managed to wrestle my mind away from indulgent fantasies of grabbing those heavy breasts. I had a prior premonition that this chill evening in wouldn't be as relaxing and sleepy as I'd initially thought it'd be.

If my grandmothers were alive to taste it, they would have been very proud little pattis, because the ghee roast was divine. The meat melted, the spices were rich, I didn't have to log in for the next couple of days, and my hot roommate was hanging out with me. What more could a guy ask for?

"Wow, this is really good. Like, it's actually kind of incredible," she mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"I was just thinking that."

"You know I don't doubt your ego. You want a blanket? The AC is freezing."

"Um, sure."

I held out a hand to catch it, but Nithya picked the throw blanket up off the back of her sofa, stood up, and then boldly sat down right next to me on my cushion, nudging my thigh so she could fold her legs underneath her. And then she spread the woolly thing over both of our laps.

Neither of us said anything, and Nithya turned back to look at the TV, which let me quickly sneak a sideways glance down at her heavy, unsupported tits resting against her ribs. As smooth as James Bond. Powerfully perverted thoughts about sliding my hand under the blanket and feeling her warmth raced through my mind. I tried to dislodge the wicked ideas with a short, surreptitious shake of my head.

Nithya kept checking her phone. She settled in and got comfortable next to me, her hip pressing into mine. She seemed casually interested in the Netflix show, asking questions about the plot and adding snide little comments about the characters' silly dramas. And we made small talk about work and Bangalore traffic and nothing of any importance. I was nervous without knowing exactly why.

But every few minutes, she would have a quick peek at her glowing phone screen. I assumed she was expecting a text or a Swiggy delivery, and didn't comment. But then she flipped her phone towards her one last time and waited, just staring intently at the home screen. I watched curiously as the digital clock changed to 20:00.

With a sharp click of her thumb, she took the phone off silent mode, put it down on the armrest next to her, and then turned her entire body to face me. Her dark brown eyes were piercing, wide, and strangely bright with adrenaline.

"Hey. Can I suck your dick?"

Ten million nerve endings fired at the exact same time. My entire adrenaline reserves were dumped into my bloodstream in a microsecond. All the spirits of my ancestors converged upon the living room sofa to bear witness to the sheer absurdity of the question.

"Whhaat...?"

Nithya put one warm hand directly on my thigh, sliding it under the blanket.

"I'm being serious. It's not a joke or some weird prank. You want it or not?"

She squeezed my thigh firmly and moved her hand slowly upwards, her fingers brushing the fabric of my track pants near my crotch. Her face was getting closer to mine, too. The air in the room was suddenly thick and charged, like a monsoon storm was brewing right above the coffee table. And there was really only one thing my stunned brain could formulate to say.

"Yeah. Okay."

Shakespearean, in a way. Suave too.

Nithya's mouth curved up into a deeply satisfied, almost wicked grin.

"I thought you'd say that."

She threw the woolly blanket away dramatically and started to pull at the drawstring of my track pants, her slender fingers shaking almost imperceptibly with nervous energy. She shuffled closer, shifting to her knees on the cushions, and I could feel her breath hot on my cheek. Warm, quick, intoxicating.

"Have you ever thought about doing this with me? Had one of those famous dirty dreams about me?" she breathed, her voice dropping an octave.

"No," I lied smoothly. "Have you?"

"Eh. Maybe once or twice."

I was completely stunned. I had to know what that meant. Had to know if she was actually serious about this sudden seduction. But a chain reaction of why and how, and cause and effect, tumbled into the forefront of my mind, because there was something obvious and intrusive I needed to clarify first before I let this happen.

"Wait. Wait!" I said, grabbing her wrists gently as she tried to yank my pants down over my hips.

"Aren't you seeing someone? Karthik? Does he..."

"No. We broke up. Turns out he was fucking cheating on me with his coworker. I found out a couple of days ago."

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I immediately let go of her hands and arched my back to help her pull my pants down to my ankles. She didn't seem upset or tearful, so the guilt and sympathy functions of my brain were incredibly easy to override.

"Man, that sucks. He's a fucking idiot," I offered lamely.

"Yup."

Nithya hesitated for a split second, a flash of shame or nervousness or fear showing on her beautiful face. She looked almost apologetic and shy for a fleeting moment. And then she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of my underwear and pulled them down slowly. I was already half-hard, the sheer apprehension and surprise to blame for the delay. Nithya smiled, a wide, hungry thing, and practically purred as she unveiled my cock to the cool AC air.

"Oh, good."

"Good?"

"Yup. I can definitely work with this."

My cunning repartee stalled and then vanished entirely as her warm, soft hand took hold of my shaft.

She stroked the pad of her thumb right over the sensitive underside of my erection and held tight as it rapidly swelled thicker beneath her palm.

"Mmm, you have a really nice dick," she whispered.

The 'thank you' never even reached my lips. A low, gravelly groan barged past instead, as my hot roommate started to languidly pump her hand up and down my length. A violent shiver ran straight up my spine. I felt utterly powerless in her firm grip, and I didn't mind it in the slightest.

After a minute or two of dry stroking, she paused, licked her dark lips deliberately, and stared at me intently through her lashes.

"Should I put it in my mouth now?" she whispered teasingly.

I could only nod, not trusting myself to speak with an even voice.

She shifted her hips around so that she was fully positioned between my spread legs, her elbows digging into the sofa cushions supporting her weight, giving me a perfect, tantalizing view down the neck of her loose shirt to the heavy shadow of her braless cleavage. Her dark, painted lips parted slightly and inched closer to the pulsating purple head of my rod.

She stopped just short of touching me, her eyes flicking rapidly between the tip of my cock and my flushed face.

"Breathe in," she commanded softly.

I obeyed without thinking, drawing in a massive, deep lungful of oxygen.

I immediately gasped it all back out in a rush as her hot mouth completely engulfed the top half of my cock. My eyes went wide and I did half of an involuntary abdominal crunch. The scorching hot, wet pressure of her tongue wrapping around me was indescribable.

"Fuck. Nice trick," I wheezed out with genuine, breathless admiration.

Nithya winked at me with one eye, her cheek bulging slightly, and then slowly slid her pretty lips further down my throbbing cock. Rhythmically, she began her descent, inching forward and forcefully sucking on the shaft before retreating backward a tiny bit with a wet popping sound. And then again, and again. It was almost tidal in its steady ebb and flow. If the tide simultaneously squeezed the beach's balls perfectly as it came rolling in.

I groaned, encouraging her, but didn't push my hips up to force it. This miracle was happening for some bizarre reason, and I wasn't about to do something stupid to break the spell.

Once she'd painted her slick saliva most of the way down my thick shaft, she drew back slightly and took things slow. Almost excruciatingly, agonizingly slow. She watched my face the entire time, those bright, expressive brown irises locked dead onto mine, expertly gauging my physical reaction and using her swirling tongue and soft lips to tease me whenever I twitched or groaned at her ministrations. My heart was pumping hard and fast still, but it looked like she was going to take her sweet time, so after a few mind-melting minutes, I leaned my head back against the sofa cushions and settled in to enjoy the spectacular show.

Her phone, sitting on the armrest, buzzed a few times, and though it briefly distracted her attention away from my cock each time, she didn't seem bothered enough to actually stop sucking. But she abruptly pulled off with a loud smack when it started to legitimately ring. I was brushing a stray, sweat-damp strand of hair out of her face as she was bobbing up and down when a familiar iPhone marimba beat started to blast through the living room.

She stopped cold and gestured frantically for me to hand the vibrating phone over to her. I reached over and grabbed it, but my curiosity totally overruled my manners and I read the caller ID flashing on the screen.

"It's Karthik."

"Mmmm. Fuck, okay."

Nithya suddenly looked actively nervous, fidgeting on her knees and breathing in and out rapidly through pursed lips.

"Do you mind if I take this?"

I blinked down at her like a total idiot. Something wild was going on, but all the blood and the rational thinking juice were flowing heavily toward my groin at that precise moment.

"Er, sure. I guess."

Nithya seemed to physically steel herself before violently tapping the green accept icon and holding the phone up to her ear. With her other free hand, she reached back down and kept tightly wanking my wet cock, slow and steady. The bizarre idea of her answering a phone call from her recent cheating ex while handling my erection was confusing, but I certainly didn't hate what was physically happening to me.

"Oh, hey Karthik, what's up?" she answered, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

I could easily make out the general tone of the tinny voice on the other end (he sounded incredibly pissed off) but only about thirty percent of what he was actually yelling. Nithya didn't really react how I expected an angry ex-girlfriend to act: she didn't raise her voice, she didn't get defensive or cry. She was remarkably, terrifyingly calm, and she kept squeezing and stroking my slick cock with deliberate intent.

"Ohhhh. That's right, I did say I'd meet you at the Indiranagar Metro at 8. Oops! I guess I must have completely forgotten."

...

"Yeah, I did. You know I did."

...

"I got distracted. Yeah, really distracted."

...

"Hmm, probably not coming. I'm kinda right in the middle of something big."

...

"Hey, are you okay if I FaceTime this cheating, lying scumbag right now?"

It took an embarrassingly long, stupid amount of time for me to realize that the very last question was directed squarely at me, not the phone. It took even longer for me to mentally process what the hell that actually meant.

The tinny, irritating voice of her cheating scumbag ex carried on buzzing away indignantly through the earpiece the entire time. Nithya stopped pumping my dick, but she didn't let go of the base. I pulsed hotly in her tight grip, unsure but intensely excited in a very twisted, voyeuristic way.

"Are you serious?" I asked, though the manic gleam in her eyes told me her answer already.

"Yeah. I really fucking am. But you don't have to agree. It's... It's totally up to you."

My lingering reservations, my polite concern, and my moral indignation were entirely eclipsed by the sheer force of her vengeful conviction, and the trashy, primal mixture of immense lust and fascination with what might happen next.

"Fuck it. Go on then. Do it."

She grinned broadly and it was a feral, almost frightening thing to behold. I distinctly heard Karthik demanding to know what the fuck was going on and who the fuck she was talking to in the background. Nithya was busy tapping buttons, holding up her phone in front of her face, but she did bother to answer him, in a manner of speaking.

"Hey, Karthik, I'm gonna FaceTime you right now. Pick it up and you'll see exactly what I've been doing instead of meeting you."

And with that brutal declaration, she leaned down and started to make overly dramatic, sloppy sucking noises as she resumed the blowjob with aggressive enthusiasm. Obviously, she was heavily putting it on for this twisted digital show, but her stifled moans and wet, gagging slurps still turned me on to an insane degree. The back of her phone was pointed directly at my face, and I felt a massive flush of social anxiety for a few seconds as I stared blankly at the triple camera lenses, before rationality fully returned. It was still so strange that her arm was partially blocking my view of her face, and yet the situation felt so crystal clear and outrageously erotic as a scene.

It was painfully obvious when Karthik actually connected to the video call, because the audio immediately exploded in absolute outrage and foul curses. There was lots of frantic shouting, lots of calling Nithya a bitch and a randi and a whore, and plenty of outraged, pathetic demands for her to stop.

There was some small, logical part of my brain that agreed with his intense anger, because she was undeniably using me, and while I guess she hadn't actively lied to my face, she hadn't exactly told me about her deranged little revenge porn plot before tricking me halfway into it. I probably should have been annoyed or angry, or at the very least supremely uncomfortable with being a prop. But it was incredibly difficult to care about any of those morals when her hot mouth was working me over.

She might be a manipulative little vixen, but she was currently doing her absolute level best to force my entire thick cock down into her throat. You just can't argue with that kind of effort. I wasn't to blame for my actions! It felt fucking sinful and wickedly, darkly addictive.

Eventually, Nithya spat my soaking wet cock out of her mouth with a loud, messy gagging splutter. Her mascara-lined eyes were watering heavily.

"Holy shit, it's so fucking big, Karthik. Way bigger than yours," she taunted the screen.

I rolled my eyes at her overly dramatic, porn-star delivery of the cliché line, but I still felt a massive rush of heat bloom in my core at hearing her say the words out loud to another man. She took a firm hold of my cock, glistening thick with her own sticky saliva, and shamelessly slapped the head of it against her cheek. My whole body jerked violently at the wet smacking sensation. She let out a slutty, mocking little giggle at the camera, and then she started relentlessly shit-talking her ex.

I'm not sure exactly how she thought this whole revenge thing would go down when she planned it, but it did quickly devolve into a shouty, chaotic, drama-filled argument over the phone speaker. It was extremely messy. It certainly wasn't classy in the slightest.

I did deeply enjoy being referred to as a 'real man,' and I thoroughly enjoyed the way she kept absentmindedly wanking my hard-on with either her slick hands or dipping her mouth down for a quick suck as they loudly bickered. Again, I felt incredibly fucking trashy for enjoying the cuckolding dynamic as much as I did, and being such a willing participant.

It lasted way, way longer than I thought it would. In fact, it was Nithya explicitly expressing that exact sentiment that finally caused the whole chaotic circus to end.

She sucked the sensitive top of my cock deep into her mouth and forcefully jerked her whole head up and down on the shaft while Karthik shouted obscenities at her through the tiny speaker. Then he suddenly stopped yelling, and I assumed he'd finally had enough self-respect and had hung up, but Nithya kept staring fiercely at her phone screen. After a few more seconds of aggressively impaling herself on my length, she paused and then pulled back, her perfectly threaded eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What, are you just gonna sit there and silently watch me suck someone else's dick all night, you cheating little cuck?" she spat venomously.

Apparently, he really wasn't, because that's when the distinct *bloop* disconnecting sound finally came out of the iPhone, and it was suddenly dead quiet in the living room, just the two of us panting again.

Nithya looked incredibly triumphant, laughing in a harsh, ugly way at her victory over him.

She kept her phone tilted towards her face, and I was utterly flabbergasted when I heard the distinct digital shutter sound of her taking a few slutty selfies with my rock-hard cock pressed right up to, and then resting inside, her messy, spit-covered face. I was deeply annoyed at how much that filthy action turned me on still, and I was annoyed that she had used me as a prop. And most of all, I was annoyed that she had done all of that wild shit and was now stopping the action just to snap some vain digital mementos for her camera roll.

So I angrily grabbed her phone out of her hand and tossed it forcefully onto the carpeted floor beside the sofa.

Nithya at least had the basic decency to look slightly guilty, but that expression only spurred my dark mood on. She opened her mouth to say something, and to her credit, it sounded like it might have been the tentative start of an actual apology.

"Okay, look, that was— Oh, shit!"

Her sharp squeal as I firmly grabbed a thick fistful of her dark hair was deeply, immensely satisfying.

"I didn't tell you to stop sucking," I growled.

There was a tense, razor-thin moment when it all could have exploded in a very unpleasant, angry, and dangerous way. But I think I had the true measure of her in that instant, and I think we had the exact same filthy thing on our minds. We were both twisted, dirty perverts, and we both enjoyed that whole chaotic scenario far too much to be considered healthy, nice people. Theoretically, I was crossing a major boundary, but my primal gut instinct told me she desperately wanted it rough now. I gave a short, hard tug on the fistful of silky hair.

And she immediately followed the physical direction and enthusiastically attacked my cock once again.

She'd started slow before, probably to waste time and build tension until Karthik had lost patience waiting for her at the metro station. And then she'd done a loud, exaggerated, over-the-top pornstar performance for the camera. But now, she gave it her absolute all, earnestly and greedily sucking me off as deep and fast as she physically could manage.

Her throat made obscene, wet 'gluk gluk gluk' sounds as she took me in.

Her frantic fingers were tightly squeezing the base of my hard cock, doing her absolute best to pleasure the entire length of the shaft as she slobbered heavily over the rest. Her other hand clamped down hard onto my bare thigh, pressing her nails in urgently. Her dark eyes were unsteady, starting to glaze over and lose their sharp focus in the haze of lust. But the raw hunger inside her never dimmed. She didn't slow down the brutal pace, not even for a single second.

I became acutely, paranoidly aware that we hadn't fully closed the living room door, and that one of our other housemates might walk past the hallway at any given moment. They might have already done so, might have clearly heard her lurid provocations and shouting on the phone. I didn't care anymore, and clearly neither did Nithya.

Immense pressure built rapidly in my groin, and I didn't have a single shred of self-control left in my body. The dam was going to break very soon, and I purposefully didn't warn Nithya.

I didn't think she needed or wanted such a polite warning, and I definitely didn't think she deserved the courtesy after using me. The filthy idea and mental image of completely flooding her mouth and her throat with my hot cum only made me rush towards the edge even faster. I groaned loudly like a dying animal, and my hips thrust up hard off the sofa cushions to relentlessly ram my cock deep into her sloppy, velvety mouth again and again.

One last, guttural moan heralded my explosive climax and a massive, pulsing flood of thick cum shooting straight inside her throat. I let go of her hair as the very first hot blast left my cock, but she fiercely buried her face down onto my groin without being forced to. She kept frantically sucking and pushing her tongue against the head, expertly milking my shuddering body dry as a euphoric wave of static washed over my brain. Her muffled, frantic gulping noises were absolute music to my ears.

Best fucking blowjob of my entire life.

After finally catching my breath, I looked down at her.

I found she was staring right up at me, patiently waiting for my attention to land back on her face. The dim shadows of the living room and the lingering fog of ecstasy made it seem like her dark eyes were rimmed with an almost supernatural, Cleopatra-esque kohl. Like she could see right through my soul. Slowly, ever so slowly, she straightened her back up. With sensuous, dirty pride, she opened her mouth wide to show me her pink tongue and pale teeth coated in the wet remnants of my load. It was like the spirit of a filthy pornstar had fully possessed her again, and she had to show me absolute proof that she'd forcefully swallowed it all down. Every last heavy drop.

"Fuck," I whispered involuntarily, awestruck.

Nithya blinked three times in short, rapid succession. She put her sticky hands on my legs and used them to push herself up to a slumped, heavy sitting position next to me on the cushions. She didn't seem physically steady. We stayed exactly like that for tense seconds that stretched out into indistinct, heavy minutes.

The thick silence had some awkward tension to it, but immense exhaustion and deep physical satisfaction tinged it too. Or at least it did from my end of the couch. I had absolutely no idea what she was thinking at that specific moment.

Before I could start to think straight again, and start to actually worry that I—or we—had permanently ruined our shared living space dynamic, she looked sideways at me and laughed shyly. Or maybe manically. Her flushed expression was still sultry and incredibly hungry, but there was some other chaotic force in conflict within her then. One of her hands snaked its way underneath the waistband of her pyjamas. She was clearly rubbing her own clit, but she cleared her throat and started talking rapidly as if she hadn't noticed what her hand was doing.

"Okay. Okay. So that was fucking crazy. In a really good way. I'm sorry for kind of springing it all on you but... I don't know. Fuck. Anyway, I'm so fucking horny right now, so please don't move."

"I really want to fuck you properly, but I don't think that would be a very good idea. Maybe. I don't know. It's just complicated. You know, like really messy and complicated. And I just got out of a serious thing. So it's probably not a good idea to cross that line, you know what I mean?"

I absolutely did not know what she meant, but also I only had about four working brain cells left firing in my skull. Even if she wasn't gabbling nervously at lightning speed, I wouldn't have been able to process exactly what had just happened, and what more of it might mean for our lease. I did desperately want more. I wanted all of her thick curves, and I wanted to kneel before her on the rug and eat her out until she screamed just like she'd done for me. You know, feminism and equal rights and all that. And I fully, deeply understood just how 'really complicated' fucking your roommate actually was. So I just nodded dumbly. But I wasn't prepared to let her simply leave without at least trying my luck.

"Are you sure?" I rasped.

She firmly closed her eyes and groaned and hummed in frustration at the exact same time.

"No, I'm not sure at all."

"I can—"

"No. I know you can. But not today. I'm gonna go. To my room. Alone."

The wet, pouty way she declared it made it laughably, painfully obvious just how unenthusiastic she was about her own supposedly mature decision. I smirked knowingly at her, and her cheeks flushed dark red as she gave me the middle finger. This was a powerful woman who'd just sucked the very soul out of my body with supreme confidence and dark magnetism. And with a sudden snap of reality, the tables had turned completely. With absolute, crystal certainty, I knew she was going to go lock herself in her bedroom and use whatever buzzing toys she had hidden away in her nightstand to violently fuck herself silly thinking about this. We both knew it. What else was there left to say?

I swung myself up to a sitting position, pulled my crumpled track pants up over my hips, and tucked my rapidly softening cock away safely.

And then I gave Nithya a lazy, arrogant little wave from the sofa.

"Goodnight then. See you tomorrow in the kitchen."

She gave me the middle finger one more time, but this one glistened wetly with her own slick juices from under her pyjamas. And then, with one last smouldering, hungry stare that promised utter chaos in the near future, she turned and walked away down the hall.