“Hey Poncho!” I called as Alex walked in to my second floor apartment.

“Hello Miss Rebecca, and just ‘Alex’ is fine.” He shrugged off his jacket, folding it carefully before setting it over the chair.

“Ok Poncho” I said, trying not to smile. Sometimes I’d call him Mr Alex or Mr Poncho, or Mr Alex Poncho but usually not just ‘Alex.’

“It was like two times that I wore a poncho,” he said lightheartedly. In his defense he had just gotten back from Peru probably searching for a spiritual awakening.

I asked him what tea he would like, as was custom with us. We’d just finished Philosophy class and he would come over for tea and further discussion.

It was a nice place to have a cup of tea. ‘Bohemian Oasis’ was what I was going for with lots of plants, art, and prayer flags. I’d answer the door in little slips sometimes, no bra underneath just to see his reaction, but he was always just as gentlemanly as his trim beard, saying that I looked nice or something like that. His eyes though, told a different story, one where being polite had no place.

I led him into the kitchen. The kitchen was extremely narrow. So narrow that if two people were to stand next to each other, their shoulders could feasibly brush. In this case, I was leafing through the tea boxes and he was standing behind me, so close I thought I could just barely feel him against my ass. But just barely. If I moved back just slightly or arched my back I could feel if he was hard. Yup, he was. I could pretend it was an accident.

“The lemon ginger?” I asked.

“Green tea. That one.” He remained very composed.

I turned around to hand him the teabag but instead of reaching for it, he placed his hand on the counter behind me, leaning forward. Grip my face, kiss me, do it, I thought. He didn’t. Our faces were close and we just stood there breathing for a moment.

“Taylor’s a very lucky guy, you know that?” He said softly.

I didn’t say anything just maybe nodding because I wasn’t sure if it was rhetorical.

Just then, my boyfriend opened the door.

“Rebecca?” He was in the habit of dropping by in the evenings to sleep over unannounced.

“Hey, how was your day? Alex is here,” I answered.

“What are you guys doing?” he asked, trying to sound casual but I could sense something tense in his words.

“We’re just having tea.” I said, coming into view.

“Hi Alex,” he said, taking in the bunched slip.

“Hey Taylor.”

Taylor was my boyfriend. He was a theater geek and played sad songs from the seventies at open mics. A tortured soul and a repressed bisexual, he had similar long hair to Alex and perhaps if things had gone differently we could have all been lovers. But that’s not how things went.

The night I met Poncho we were going to a party. We went to school in a small art town in upstate New York, so parties where people rolled around in the floor to Grimes were common. This was one such party.

I met him through this girl I was sort of friends with, Connie. She was cute but not sexy, just edgy hippie Asian. She knew of all the cool parties and had lots of “sort of” friends.  We met at her apartment so we could head over together. The men came soon after. They were both worldly city types with their slim cut pants and long hair. Alex was a little more tough looking and less of a baby face than the other guy. But his eyes were kind. As we were walking she whispered to me,

“You can go home with any guy tonight except Alex. He’s mine. Don’t touch him. Don’t even look at him.”

Just then I decided I didn’t want to be her friend after all. And that I was definitely going to get as far as I could with Alex no matter how long it took.

When we got there the party was in full swing. It was dark and people were dancing. I walked through to the back room where the door was ajar. I peeked in but quickly retreated after seeing a mattress on the floor and some students rolling around, partially clothed. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to join in or that I was shy, but that I didn’t know the group and felt awkward.

Connie followed Alex around all night. He’d talk with her but he seemed distracted.

The next year I moved in with my friend Alyssa. We’d throw parties with weird themes like “babushka party” and “seance” and “possum party.”

He was always there, quietly talking to someone on the couch or sipping some wine watching the mosh pit my friends would start in the living room. Whenever we’d catch each other’s eyes there was a certain twinkle or mischievous look there that I couldn’t quite discern. Was it just the weed? What was he thinking about?

After graduation I stayed at the same apartment for a bit. I’d gotten a job at a social work office nearby and I could afford the place as long as I had a roommate. One night he asked to sleep over. He said he was passing through town and could stay on the couch. Stay on the couch my ass, I thought.

Taylor turned up, the cockblock. We’d fucked plenty of women together but there was something about other men that he didn’t want to. I think he felt possessive of me.

When we retired to my room to “sleep” the door barely shut before Taylor was undressing me. I think he got off on thinking another man wanted me but that I was “his.” He backed me up to the bed and kissed me, lifting me up behind my knees so that he could have full access to my pussy. I gasped and smiled at my back hitting the bed. He knelt on the floor and licked me, alternating with his fingers.

As lost in the moment as I was, I still wondered what it would feel like if it were Alex.

I wanted him to hear. I wanted him to wish it was him fucking me. I moaned loudly and while Taylor tried to cover my mouth there was no stopping the torrent coming out of me.

~~~

Taylor and I had recently broken up. Alex was over but so was my roommate’s annoying friend.

“We could go to my room?” I offered.

We’d been alone together in my room before watching YouTube clips of Curb your Enthusiasm but this felt different. We sat on the bed because it was the only seating aside from the floor.

“Do you want to snuggle?” I asked.

“Snuggle?”

“Friends can snuggle.”

“Ok yeah.”

I began slowly, almost imperceptibly bucking my hips back against him. He responded by wrapping his arm around me to grab hold of a breast. I let out a little moan.

I turned my head around to look at him and he kissed me, allowing his hands to roam freely over my hips. His fingers were dangerously close to my pussy. This was not just snuggling.

I moved over him, lowering myself to remove his pants.

But then he spoke. He seemed troubled.

“I must stop you. According to my principles I will only engage in this activity if I am in a committed relationship.” Him and his stupid principles, I thought.

Being rejected by him stung, but I was always one to see a loophole. When one door closes there’s another door down the hall. Maybe the same guy’s there behind that door but you can reason with him.

“Mutual masturbation then?” I asked.

He agreed without hesitation, whipping out a surprisingly large cock for his slim frame. Our eyes bored into each other as we furiously moved our hands over ourselves, trying to be quiet so the roommates wouldn’t hear.

He couldn’t take it any longer and moved over me, coming to kiss me more and down my body to where I wanted it. It became harder to stay quiet and I stopped caring if my roommate heard.

Alex was amazing. It was as if he were making up for all the moments he held back. How many times had he thought about it? He was still just a man, albeit one with great restraint. I came quickly and hurried to reciprocate.

I sucked like a girl with something to prove. I wanted to show him what he’d been missing all these years. When he came I gulped it down, making sure there was no extra cum on my face. I lay down next to him.

“Pizza?” He asked.

“Yes.”