My old roommate asked his girlfriend to move in, so bang, I was homeless. Pissed me off! I only made so much money, working at a major chain selling computers and electronics. I didn't even get a commission! I was in a bad place.
I was in the break room bitching with a couple of the guys, when Marilee chimes in from over by the microwave. "My roommate just moved out too! I don't know how I'm going to make it." Well! I had just the idea. I suggested that I move in with Marilee, and the guys looked at each other, trying hard to not laugh. Let me explain the humor.
My name is Roger Devereux, I was 23 years old, and I'm into computers, hardware and software. I'm also into UFC (that's Ultimate Fighting), and I have three brothers who are too, so I may not look dangerous, but I can take care of myself. I'm five foot seven and weigh about 145, so I am pretty skinny. I have brown hair that's kind of oily, no matter what I do, and what has lovingly been called shit-brown eyes. My face is thin, and at one point I had a problem with acne, so I have some old scars on my cheeks.
Marilee Herman, on the other hand, was 24 years old, and into sex, drugs, and rock n' roll. She's five-two, but you'd never know it unless she's at work, because she's always wearing killer high heels that put her almost up on her toes, or right at about my eye level. She's thin but not skinny. When she wears her tight little skirts her hips kind of, what do they call it, muffin-top? But D-A-M-N he is so freakin' hot because of it.
She's got a little meat on those bones, especially when her D cup tits are jammed into C cup bras. I know, how does a geek know? There was a bet. I lost, but we all learned the numbers. She has butch-short black hair, too black to be natural, with a bright pink stripe that runs up the side of her head, eyes that change color regularly (contacts, I'm betting), piercings in her eyebrow, nose, several in each ear, and her belly button, and last but not least, three tattoos; a Celtic band on her upper arm, a standard tramp stamp, and one she only smiles about, usually saying, "Don't you wish you knew."
The only things, besides her killer body and pretty face, that keep me hot for her are her genuine intelligence, and the fact that nobody I am aware of knows what that third tattoo really is. Also for all of her intelligence and interest in self-mutilation, Marilee has absolutely no idea that she's hot.
"When could I move in?" I asked, going over to her. "What's the rent?"
She told me the rent and I almost dropped. It was nearly a hundred less that I had been paying! "You can move in this weekend," Marilee said, smiling at me. Strangely, with all of her other grunge/goth characteristics, Marilee's teeth are freakin' perfect. Better than mine, and I do all the brushing and regular dental visits.
"Sure!" I said, "This weekend will be great!"
"You don't have pets, right?" Marilee asked, and I was glad all of a sudden that I hadn't gotten that dog I'd wanted a month before. I shook my head, and she asked, "And you won't mind if I have guys stay over with me?"
My heart sank, but I think I covered it well. I just said, "As long as you don't mind when I have girls over for the night." She gave me one of those smiles that I hate, the kind that says I'm smarter than you, and I can see right through you. And then she nodded and we shook on it. I probably went too far by pulling her in for a shoulder bump, but god her tit felt good when it mashed against me.
I moved in that weekend, and Marilee was working for most of it, so I hardly got to see her. But as soon as I was settled we learned how to be roommates for each other. She learned that I watch a lot of UFC, and I learned that she listened to speed metal really loud. She learned that I demand privacy in the bathroom, and I learned that she mostly ran around in tight t-shirts that showed her middle (and nipples) and tighter little low-rise panties. She learned that I like Mexican and Mandarin Chinese food, and I learned that when she ran around in her underwear I was physically capable of whacking off up to eight times a day. It wasn't easy, but she inspired me.
The scary thing is, even in her underwear, I never saw the third tattoo.
We'd been living together for about a month, and I was about to put in one of the movies I'd rented for the night. Marilee was going out, and she had on a too-tight black bra under a long sleeved fishnet shirt, a tight black miniskirt with straps that hung down and were fastened to the top of her fishnet stockings, and black leather ankle boots with heels that looked like you needed to register them as deadly weapons with the police. Her eye makeup was black and thick, and so was her lipstick. She looked like an absolute slut, and my dick was so hard it hurt.
"What are you doing tonight?" Marilee asked me as she was packing her purse. I was crashed out on the couch in tight black jeans and a t-shirt and socks.
"I rented a movie," I said, at that moment pressing the play button on the remote. I'm a nut for old movies, and I'd been feeling the need for a little "Casablanca". As soon as the music started, Marilee drifted over and started to watch. When they were singing La Marseillaise she sat down, and when Rick was drinking himself into a stupor she was sitting close to me. When Rick was telling Ilsa to get on the plane, Marilee had her head on my shoulder. I was completely chillaxed, but my cock was standing at full attention, and I was starting to wonder if that "See a doctor if an erection lasts more than 4 hours" thing only mattered if you took a pill.
The movie ended and Marilee had black streaks running down her cheeks. She smiled at me, and she said, "That was a great movie. Do you have anymore like that?" The other movie I'd rented was The Big Sleep, also with Bogart, and I said she might like it. She was pretty excited and said, "Let me go get changed. Don't start it without me."
So I sat there for about twenty minutes, watching the menu screen of the DVD, and when she came out I about shot my load in my pants. She'd washed her face, and she was wearing a big white t-shirt that hung really loose because her tits pushed the front out so far, and it went down to her thighs. I really wanted to know what she had on under that shirt. I would have let her bite off my right nut and spit it in the toilet, to see the wonders under that t-shirt.
She smiled at me, looking so damn sweet, and she not only sat right up next to me, not only laid her head on my shoulder, but she put her hand on my leg - dangerously close to my throbbing cock. I started the movie. She didn't move hardly at all, but she laughed at some things I had known but hadn't paid attention to. I knew Carmen had been stoned and taken dirty pictures at Geiger's place, but Marilee thought it was totally cool to see that in an old movie, and when Marlow was leaving the bookstore after the rain, after the cut where he bantered with the shop girl, Marilee squealed, "They did it! They didn't even know each other and he fucked her!" I said I didn't believe it, and we replayed the scene, and holy shit!
We watched the movie right up to the end, and in the time it took for the screen to go dark and the credits to start rolling, I was kissing Marilee, and she was kissing me back. I put my arms around her and pulled her close, and she shoved me down and crawled on top of me. We were laying on the couch together, Marilee on top of me, kissing. I don't know who started it, and I don't care. I like to think we both started at the same time.
I don't know what I expected from her. She's such a wild child, you know? But the girl I was kissing was just a nice, soft girl. I ran my hands over her back, enough to tell me she wasn't wearing a bra, and she just held on to me, her arms around my middle. We kissed like that for a while, like over an hour, and I wasn't planning on going anywhere soon. I had already given up on the hope that she didn't feel my cock pressing into her thigh.
She moved a little, and her hand pressed down on my bulge. I gasped because it really kind of hurt, but I kept right on kissing her. Her hand rubbed softly, and then harder, and I could feel her start to breathe funny, like she was really getting into me - which meant I would probably be getting into her soon. I felt her pulling my zipper down on my jeans, and then she sat up. "Oh shit!" Marilee said, and her face looked like I'd caught her frigging herself. "I'm sorry!" She said, all hoarse and breathy, and she jumped up and ran into her bedroom and slammed the door. Before I could say, "What the fuck?" her stereo came on and speed metal shook her door.
I wanted to kick in her door and finish what we'd started, but that shit doesn't cut it anymore. Bogey's dead. I settled for going into my own room and whacked out two before falling asleep.
For the next two months we were strangers. She didn't care what movies I was watching, and we never brought up what happened. We barely spoke to each other, not because I was avoiding her, but she was just never around when I was, and when she was she'd be in her room.
Then one night Steve showed up. Steve was a big guy, a bad boy through and through. He was a speed metal freak, about six-one, maybe 210 pounds. He had hair kind of like mine, but black, and he had muscles like you wouldn't believe. This guy looked like a picture in a comic book, or maybe like Henry Rollins, you know? Totally buffed out and cut. He had tattoos all over his arms and neck, but his tight black t-shirt and jeans covered everything else.
Steve treated me the way all guys like him do, like dog shit, not even worthy of notice. I tried to talk to him, but all I got out of it was that his name was Steve and that he was taking Marilee out. She must have had 50 or even 100 I.Q. points on the numskull, and he was taking her out.
She came out of her room, dressed in the same outfit she'd worn on Casablanca night, and she hurried out the door without looking at me. I was starting to get a complex when Steve sneered at me on his way out after her. I mean, she was obviously getting into me, so why snub me and go after the Neanderthal man?
I watched T.V. until about three in the morning, and I was dozing when I heard a key in the lock. Twice. I was home and hadn't locked it, so she locked it first, and then had to unlock it. The door flew open and they crab walked through the living room, joined at the tongue. Steve kicked the door shut and they went right on past me and into Marilee's bedroom, and then her door closed too.
I got up, wearing my jeans and socks, not even a shirt, and my scrawny body wouldn't impress many people. I went to her door and heard them creaking around on her bed. I raised my fist above the door's surface, and then I dropped my arm and turned toward my bedroom. I turned around immediately and put my face close to the door, about to shout at them to be quiet, but I shook with fury and moved back out into the living room.
When I kicked in the door, I heard myself shout, "Bogey Lives!" Steve looked back over his shoulder at me, his face a mask of rage, his entire back covered by colorful tattoos. He was only wearing his jeans. Marilee was under him, and I saw that he had both of her wrists in one of his big hands, and the other hand was out of sight, up under her skirt. "Get the fuck out of here!" Steve shouted at me.
