It was almost dark by the time I got home. As soon as I let myself inside the apartment, I caught a whiff of Devon's homemade spaghetti sauce. He was sitting on the couch, his laptop in front of him. "Hey, Heidi," he greeted me with a smile. "There are leftovers in the kitchen if you're hungry."
After setting my purse and keys on an end table, I strode toward my roommate so I could plant a kiss on the top of his head. "You're the best."
Devon's smile widened as he returned his attention to the laptop. "I know."
In the kitchen, I helped myself to a plate of spaghetti. Rather than sit at the table to eat alone, I went back into the living room. Folding my legs beneath me in a roomy chair, I studied Devon while he typed away. Like me, he often brought work home. Unlike me, he didn't normally get stressed out about it. Though we were both in our late twenties, I suspected I was a little more ambitious than my roommate. Or maybe I just needed to work harder on my way up the corporate ladder.
Devon looked over at me as I wiped my mouth with a napkin. "How did your therapy session go?"
"Hypnotherapy session," I corrected. "I think it went well. I guess I'll find out how effective it was soon enough." Part of me wished I hadn't told Devon about the appointment. It felt like a weakness, needing to seek help for something so trivial. But I worried the problem would only worsen over time.
"So, did the hypnotherapist put you in a trance or something?" Devon's smile was faint but amused.
I scowled at him. "We just went through some relaxation techniques to help me manage my stress levels better." I hated how defensive I sounded.
Now, my roommate appeared confused. "Wait, so she didn't hypnotize you?"
"No, she did." I could feel my face growing hot. "When I told her that I'd recently started waking up in the middle of the night and binge eating, she recommended that I replace the unhealthy activity with a positive one." Unable to meet Devon's gaze, I looked at the plate I held. "And she used hypnosis to make me more receptive to implementing the positive behavior."
"What positive behavior did she recommend?"
Did he notice me squirming in my chair? "Meditation," I finally blurted out.
That was a lie, for meditation wasn't the positive activity I chose to replace my destructive binge eating. Instead, when the hypnotherapist had asked me to name a healthy, pleasurable, and relaxing activity I could enjoy by myself, I shyly suggested masturbation. "Numerous other clients of mine chose the same thing and have had great results," she assured me. "So the next time you're majorly stressed from work and have trouble sleeping through the night, instead of battling food cravings, you'll have the urge to masturbate. Now, you mentioned you have a roommate."
"He usually sleeps through the night," I told her. "He never hears me get up and rummage through the kitchen, so I doubt he'll hear me, um, you know..."
She smiled and nodded. "I understand. If you decide you're interested in hypnosis, I'll guide you into a very relaxed, suggestible state. Then, I'll instruct you to masturbate whenever you wake up at night and feel stressed. You might initially experience the temptation to binge eat, but the urge for self-pleasure should override it. And I'll also give the instruction that you are to stop masturbating if you become aware that your roommate has awoken. That way, you can feel safe and in control throughout the entire process."
That sounded wonderful to me, and I readily allowed myself to be hypnotized. Once I was deep in that relaxed state, I remembered very little of what the hypnotherapist suggested. Her soothing voice lulled me into the realm of oblivion, and when she brought me out of it, I saw her pleased smile. "You're extremely receptive to hypnosis, Heidi. I think you'll see amazing results."
As I now tried to avoid my roommate's curious stare, I told myself he didn't need to know every intimate detail about the session. After all, the hypnotherapist assured me that Devon would never catch me masturbating. He and I had lived together for over a year now, and the last thing I wanted to do was make things awkward between us.
We'd first met through a mutual friend. At that time, Devon was sharing the apartment with his girlfriend, but when she fell in love with someone else and abruptly moved out, he found himself in need of a roommate. Meanwhile, I was paying a fortune to rent a tiny studio apartment on my own. During my first conversation with Devon, I sensed he was a good guy whom I'd get along with, and my intuition proved correct.
Along with his easygoing nature, Devon was also gorgeous. Of course, I didn't allow myself to dwell on that fact much, but there was no denying it. Almost every morning, he got up to run an ungodly number of miles, and his lean, strong physique bore the results of his efforts. He had short dark hair, and his brown eyes were full of expression. But it was his smile I loved the most.
I considered myself an attractive woman, with brown hair that fell past my shoulders. My large blue eyes had earned me many compliments. And I also had a nice body, mostly due to my age and high metabolism rather than a lot of work on my part. But I'd already gained a few pounds from binge eating, so I wanted to ditch that bad habit immediately. Not since college had I allowed stress to drive me to the point that I was stuffing my face in the middle of the night. It was this upcoming presentation for my job that had me so on edge. If I nailed it, the resulting promotion would put me into a higher tax bracket. If I blew it, I'd end up languishing in the same underpaid position.
"Meditation sounds good," Devon said, drawing me from my thoughts. "I hope it works for you, Heidi."
"Me, too." Climbing to my feet, I started out of the room. "Thanks again for dinner. I'll cook tomorrow night, okay?"
"Don't worry about it." He was already focused on his work again, so I headed to the kitchen, where I washed the dishes and wiped down the counters. Once everything was tidy, I retreated to my bedroom. I wanted to review my notes for tomorrow's presentation, though I had them practically memorized by this point.
For hours, I diligently worked at my desk, stopping only to change into a T-shirt and lounge pants. I kept my coral-red bra on, as I didn't feel comfortable walking around the apartment with nothing underneath my shirt. My boobs weren't huge, but they were large enough to draw notice, especially if they were freely bouncing around.
At a little after eleven, I heard Devon getting ready for bed. He'd soon be out like a light. I knew I needed to get some sleep as well. Still, I sprawled out on my bed with a stack of papers. After making myself more comfortable, I continued reading and reviewing my notes until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer.
When I woke, I knew it was late—or rather, very early—before I looked at the clock. Upon discovering it was half past two in the morning, I swore under my breath. Immediately, my mind took a mental inventory of the kitchen cabinet's contents. There were a few chocolate chip cookies that had escaped my previous binge episodes. Climbing from the bed, I left my room and walked through the darkness, past Devon's closed door.
The kitchen light's painful glare couldn't stop me from going to the cabinet. Yet as soon as I reached to open it, my craving subsided, only to be replaced by a desperate horniness. The impulse to touch myself was so strong that it made me gasp. Slipping a hand beneath my shirt, I teased my right nipple through my bra. Between my thighs, an insistent aching demanded my attention. I was already getting wet!
Out of my mind with need, I yanked the shirt over my head and tossed it aside. Then, I removed my pants. Sitting half-naked at the kitchen table, I rested my foot on its edge. I didn't bother with teasing myself and building the anticipation. No, I instantly slid a hand down my panties and between my smooth folds. A relieved moan escaped my lips at that first caress.
My fingers grew slick as I rubbed my clit with a circular motion. Ooh, it felt so good! I wanted to moan from the pleasure of it, but I still possessed enough restraint to stay quiet. With my other hand, I started finger-fucking my pussy. Breathing harder, I writhed in the chair. My clit was now swollen, readily responding to my touch. Shamelessly, I buried three fingers inside my cunt, thrusting them in and out with a force that made my thighs begin to shake. I was going to make myself come right here in the kitchen!
At that moment, I heard the unmistakable sound of Devon's bedroom door opening. "Fuck!" I mouthed. Keeping my hands in my panties, I tried to discern where he was in the apartment. I guessed he was on his way to the bathroom; maybe I had time to make myself orgasm. As these thoughts raced through my head, I realized the hypnotherapist's safeguard had worked; I'd come out of my aroused trance as soon as I knew Devon was awake, and there was no chance of him catching me.
Not unless I wanted to be caught.
Instead of heading toward the bathroom, Devon approached the kitchen. My eyes widened at the sound of his footsteps, yet I made no move to cover myself. When he appeared in the doorway, wearing a pair of boxers, all the drowsiness vanished from his expression, only to be replaced by shock. "Heidi!"
I knew I should get up and gather my clothes. I should apologize to Devon and then flee to my bedroom. But I was so fucking horny! I couldn't remember a time when I'd needed to come so desperately. A devious plan began to form in my mind. "Hi, Devon," I said in a casual tone.
His stare moved to my hands, for I'd begun playing with my pussy again. "Heidi..." His own voice was strained. "Why are you, uh, doing this in the kitchen?"
"I'm meditating," I replied breezily.
Devon's mouth dropped open. "This is your idea of meditating?"
I had to fight back a grin. "Yeah, it's really... mmm, it's really relaxing!" My fingertips began furiously rubbing my clit again. Could he hear how wet I was? "Ooh, Devon, I need to come!"
Looking over at him, I saw that he was breathing faster. A fresh surge of lust traveled through my entire body at the sight of his erection, which was starting to tent his boxers. He was getting as excited as I was! Yet when he spoke, it was in a calm manner, utterly devoid of passion. "When you had your session with the hypnotherapist, did she tell you what would bring you out of this..." He gestured toward me helplessly. "This state?"
