My Big Titty Goth Roommate

"Leaving? Like...actually leaving?"

"Yes, idiot, leaving! You!" Steph slammed a fistful of her clothes into a suitcase and wiped an angry tear off her cheek.

"But...you can't leave me now! What about the apartment? The lease? Our stuff?"

"Oh, real fucking nice," she scoffed indignantly, "I'm glad to know there really is something you give two fucking...FUCKS...about!"

With that, she slammed the case shut and struggled pathetically to wrestle the zipper around, laying across the oversized thing to squish her belongings down.

"But where will you go? What do I do?!" I pleaded desperately, following her down the hall, hoping beyond hope that I could still change her mind.

"Well," she spat as she yanked the door open, "it looks like you're gonna need to get yourself a fucking roommate. After that, you can go to fucking hell, asshole!"

And with a slam that shook the door in its frame, she was gone.

*******

"Fuck," I mumbled, deleting what I'd just typed. "Maybe, uhh..."

My fingers worked the keyboard again. Early twenties working professional seeking roommate to fill empty bedroom. $950, utilities split. Available for immediate...

Immediate what? Filling? That sounded wrong, and more than a little dirty.

"Occupancy! That's it," I muttered aloud, scanning my post before sending it off into the ether. It had been nearly three weeks since Steph had stormed out, and her forgiveness felt more and more unlikely as the days wore on. Unfortunately, landlords were never the patient type with silly little things like paying rent on time, and I needed a hand with mine.

I might not have been the best boyfriend of all time, but the theatrics still felt a little unwarranted. So what if I was happy with my lot in life? I didn't need more. Not like she did. Always, it had been "I need more from you, you need to put in the effort, when are you going to try for me?"

Whether she appreciated and loved me or not, I did miss the hell out of her.

An email notification interrupted my doomed scrolling through albums of her and I together on my phone. I hadn't even realized I was doing it again.

'Is the room still free? I'm VERY serious and can be there in an hour, cash in hand for first and last. Let me know, A'

Aside from the pleasant shock of realizing that my post had only been live for a matter of minutes, I recalled the disaster that my kitchen had become; scrambling to dump pots and pans into the dishwasher, I replied to 'A' and invited them to come see the place. My buzzer squawked less than half an hour later.

"Hello?" I said, holding down the intercom key.

"Hi?" came a woman's voice, "It's me, Alice. I'm here to see the apartment?"

"Right," I said, recovering from the mild surprise of having someone who wasn't a dude show up, "I'll buzz you in; unit 501."

The intercom screamed an ugly toneless noise, and I tugged open the apartment's door minutes later when she knocked.

"Hi there, how are..." I stammered, wholly unprepared for what greeted me there.

"Hi," she said, smiling nervously and offering her hand, "I'm Alice. It's nice to meet you...Dan, right?"

"Yup," I gulped, taking her hand and shaking it weakly. Easily as tall as me, if not taller, and pleasantly curvy, Alice dominated the space of the doorframe like a dark omen, clad all in black. Boots, fishnets, dark denim jeans, a black sweater with curiously trimmed holes at the shoulders that revealed sprawling tattoos, and a short shock of loose black hair that fell lightly about her face, she cut an imposing figure. Heavy thighs, visible between the bottom of her shorts and the tops of the dark thigh-high socks, matched the rest of her delightfully alluring body; if I hadn't been so intimidated, I might have wondered longer at what else the tight sweater might be hiding. If nothing else though, it was her pouty, full lips and rosy red cheeks that took my breath away. She was incomparably pretty, and I was completely caught off guard.

"Well, are you going to let me in?" she asked with a small smile.

"Fuck, sorry," I yammered, stepping out of the way to let her past me.

The apartment wasn't extravagant, but it was plenty spacious for what it needed to be. Opening into a large kitchen, dining room, and living room, generously large windows would have flooded the space with light if the blinds were up. A small den off the kitchen served as a little workspace for me, and a short hall led to a pair of bedrooms and shared washroom. I watched nervously as Alice paced through the place tentatively, pulling open closets, flipping lights on and off, and eventually poking her head into the room that would be hers.

"It looks good," she said after long minutes, "do you...mind living with a woman? I mean, obviously there's been one here pretty recently but...well..."

"Oh! Yeah, yeah of course, that's no problem. Not for me anyway. Is it okay with you? I'm not a woman, you're obviously the, uh, woman, but you...know what I mean."

She smiled, and I nearly died.

"I don't mind," she said, further seeking my imminent death by tucking her hair behind her ear with a hand half hidden by the tattered cuff of her cropped sweater. "Really. Can I just...is there anything to fill out? An application?"

Despite the dozen other emails that had rolled in to enquire after the room while we chatted, I took Alice's deposit and we sealed the deal with an over-long handshake. I told myself, after she had left, that I hadn't taken her in just because I was infatuated, but the only other excuse that had any merit to it was that the tall, amply-built woman had intimidated me into submission before she'd ever opened that perfect mouth to speak.

*******

"You didn't even ask for, like, a credit score or anything?"

"Honestly, it didn't really cross my mind. She seemed nice enough, so I just let her have it."

"Sheesh," Jeff whistled, "you sure know how to pick 'em."

"Well it hasn't backfired on me yet," I retorted.

"Yet! That's good I guess," he laughed. My brother seldom shared my sense of optimism.

"Seriously though, she's actually been really great. She made me cookies the other day!"

"Cookies? Like...she just whipped up a batch for you?"

"Well," I said, "kinda for me. I mean, she left them on the counter."

"You idiot," he laughed, finishing what I knew would be his last beer, "she probably thinks you're a fucking thief. At least Stephanie had you housebroken before she left; you are keeping the place clean, right? You can't be living like a pig again just because you're not dating the woman you live with."

"Honestly man, I haven't really had to do much. She just kinda...does it all."

"Oh Christ, Dan," he said, reaching for his jacket and slapping some cash on the table for his tab, "you gotta do your part, alright? She's your roommate, not your mom."

"Not like we'd know much about having one of those, eh?" I scoffed, rising to walk out of the bar with him. "How is Mom anyway?"

"Oh, you know," he chuckled as we strolled out, "just as incarcerated as the last time I checked."

Living with Alice really had been pretty unremarkable so far; she was quiet, kept to herself most of the time, and seemed to work at least twice as much as I did. Her daytime attire often consisted of oversized band hoodies with horrifically indecipherable letters scrawled across them, while her evening looks more than explained why her 2nd month's rent money had been paid entirely in cash; she bartended downtown most weekends, and seemed to have an unending supply of skirts, corseted tops, collars, and fishnets, all of which left precious little to the imagination. She obviously did very well with tips.

There were, however, several small curiosities about Alice that I hadn't worked my way around. For starters, she'd become fond of patting my head whenever I did almost anything at all, which was easy for her given that she towered over me in some of the boots she clomped around in. It was playful ribbing at first, just friendly teasing, but she did it with such frequency now that I was sure there must be *something* more to it.

Then had come the 'good boy's. Change a lightbulb? That's a good boy. Pay the electric bill on time? Good boy. Brushing my teeth in the morning while she was leaving for work? Good boy. Unloading the dishwasher? That was a good boy WITH a head pat. It never ended, and I'd be lying through my teeth if I told you I hadn't grown rather fond of it.

Of course, I'd left that all out when talking to Jeff. Some things didn't need to be repeated. Besides, things had really just gone completely off the rails from there.

*******

"I'm home!" I called, pushing through the door. "Are you still here?" It was after 7:00 on a Friday, so she really should have been gone already, but the hairdryer still hummed loudly from the bathroom.

"Hey, you!" she called from down the hall, poking a wet, bedraggled head around the corner with a warm smile. "I'm running late for work, but I left you some food on the counter!"

I turned to kick off my shoes, not wanting her to see my embarrassed smile; had I not, I would have seen her duck back into the bathroom to hide one of her own. I padded over to the counter to find that the 'some food' she'd left was a whole spread of potatoes and veggies and chicken; this was more than just a quick bite. She'd actively cooked for me, and cleaned the kitchen too.

"Did you happen to check the mail for me?" she shouted down the hall. The hairdryer powered down.

"Yeah, I put yours on the table," I replied, sitting on the couch and flipping the TV on.

"That's my good boy," she said, walking into the room and scrubbing a hand through my hair with a chuckle. She pulled some boots out of the closet and plopped down beside me to begin the arduous trial of lacing the things up her shin.

"Are you closing tonight?" I asked, scarfing down the heaping plate of homecooked food.

"Awh," she crooned, "is someone gonna miss me?"

I willed my cheeks not to blush. "Shut up," I muttered.

"Well," she grunted, tugging her laces into tight loops and slapping her hands to her thighs with a finality that suggested she was about to leave, "it's gonna be a late one, so don't you go trying to stay up for me, got it? There's beer in the fridge and some chips in the cabinet."

I knew where to find all all that, having bought and shelved it all myself.

"Thanks, mom," I joked as she rose to leave. I might have imagined it, but her head cocked toward me be fractions of a degree.

"Well," she said, clearing her throat, "make sure you get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

With that, she was gone, and I settled in for a night of half-watched TV while I scrolled endlessly on Reddit. I'm not sure when I finally dozed off, but I could be certain that the blanket pulled up around me when I awoke at 4:00am hadn't gotten there on its own.

*******

"Morning," I said, stumbling into the shared kitchen and living room the next day. Alice stood at the stove in a baggy, oversized shirt. I wondered absently where a woman over six feet tall found a shirt large enough to fall past her butt. It wasn't every day I got to see the tattooed bows on the backs of her thighs; her skirts and shorts were usually short, but not that short.

"Morning sleepy head," she said, half turning to smile at me. Last night's poorly removed makeup stained the areas around her eyes and her hair was a frazzled mess. She was gorgeous; it was my favorite look on her. "Pancakes?"

I laughed and slunk into the bar stool at the kitchen island. "What's the occasion? Thanks," I added as she slid a coffee cup my way.

"Aside from wanting to treat my good boy, you mean?" I failed to meet her eye as she gave a wicked little smirk, spatula in hand, "it's my birthday today!"

"Oh shit," I said, making to get up, "let me do that then; I'm not having you make me breakfast on your birthday!"

"Sit," she demanded brusquely, waving me away with the utensil. I did as I was told, and not only to continue enjoying the spectacular view.

"Fine," I grumbled. "How old are you today anyway?"

"Thirty three," she said matter-of-factly, continuing to quietly flip pancakes over in the pan.

I'd assumed she was a little older than I was, but doing the quick math to figure out that she was nearly a decade senior to me still came as a true shock. I failed to come up with anything more intelligent than "Right on."

"Mhm," she hummed, leaning forward ever so slightly to turn the burner down; I caught just the barest sliver of ass below the hem of the tee as she did so, and became all too aware of the flimsy sweatpants I wore. I tucked myself under the ledge of the island further to hide myself. "I told you not to stay up last night," she chided, turning at last to slide a plate of food at me. It became nearly impossible not to obsess over the way her body filled out the oversized shirt. I mumbled my thanks for the blanket.

She watched eagerly for me to take a few bites, glowing madly at the genuine compliments I gave her as I dug in. My heart had swelled near to bursting to see her light up, and something else threatened to burst in turn at the way her chest wobbled and bobbed when she moved about the kitchen.

"I was thinking," she said as she straightened from the fridge, "since it's my birthday and all..."

"Yes?"

"Well it's just..."

"Spit it out now, come on."

"Do you wanna fuck?"

I blasted a mouthful of lukewarm coffee through my nose.

"Oh god, okay, sorry!" Alice jumped into action to mop at my face with a tea towel, fussing over wiping it off my shirt and lap; it took longer than it should have for her to realize she was batting at half a hard-on through the sweats. "Oh, fuck," she sighed, staring into my lap curiously, "you're...you're kinda hard, huh?"

I wanted to die of embarrassment. She looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to make a move.

"I, uh...guess I am a little," I admitted, barely finding the wherewithal to look her in the face. "Fuck."

Before I could meaningfully protest, Alice grabbed me by the hand and led me away from the stool and over to the low sofa, shoving me backwards while she towered over me. Plucking an elastic from around her wrist, she superficially tied her short hair into a tiny sprout at the back of her head, leaving most of the dark mop falling around her face still. Without so much as a word of warning, she crossed her arms in front of her and peeled the old shirt over her head, shaking her black mane out as she dropped it beside her.

Pale, thick, and tall, Alice stood in brazen, unflinching nudity with hands on her wide hips; her blank stare made it hard to tell if she was contemplating fucking me or devouring me whole. She was nearly terrifying to look directly at, like I might go blind if I beheld her for too long; stout legs that seemed to stretch on forever like graffitied towers of firm muscle flamed out into wide, meaty hips that I desperately needed to get my hands on. Her torso, scrawled with some unreadable word in the same insanely illegible font that most of her shirts sported across her tummy, was the same blanched shade as most of the rest of her ghostly white skin, if not eminently more kissable. A draping facsimile of a cobwebbed chandelier was inscribed in black ink, daintily arching in pearled loops below her heavenly tits. A patchwork tapestry of other artwork quilted up and down her body, including a curiously runic thing that stretched symmetrically across her lower stomach, beneath her belly button but above her stubbly mound.

I gulped, hard.

"Well?" she asked, nearly impatiently. "Are we doing this then?"

Even if I hadn't wanted to, who the fuck was going to deny her? Not me, certainly. I nodded my assent.

"Be a good boy now; use your words," she demanded.

"Yes," I said feebly.

"That's better," she said, sinking to her knees before me. I lifted my butt up as she reached out to tug at my waistband; my now painfully hard cock sprung from it's cotton prison with a confidence that the rest of me hardly shared. Alice blew out through her nose, either in surprise or relief at what she saw; between a rail thin frame and a fortunate twist of genetics, I knew that I brought more than enough to the table for anyone who'd ever dined on me.

"Baby boy!" Alice said hungrily, slinging my pants to one side of the room before taking me in a firm grip. "What a beautiful cock you have for me!"

There was little for me to do but stretch my arms across the low back of the sofa and watch in wide-eyed wonderment as she unceremoniously leaned forward and took me into her open mouth. Her cheeks vacuumed in and filled back out repeatedly as she warmed herself into her bobbing routine, leaning in and out with eyes closed and a hand around the foot of my long, smooth cock. The couch, a cheap, low thing, forced Alice to steady herself with a hand on the ground; my vantage afforded me an indulgent view of her scrumptious ass, perfectly displayed thanks to the exquisite arch of her long, broad back.

She slurped along quietly, occasionally batting her long lashes at me in benevolent looks of selfless adoration, never letting her lips part completely from my blooming head. She turned this way and that, forcing her cheeks to bulge outwardly in a messy show that left streamers of wet saliva coursing out of her mouth to run down my length; with the spit pooling around the fist that she'd wrapped around me, she began stroking luxuriously as her mouth lavished me with undeserved attention.

I knew that it would be too much to hope for her to take more of me in, and wouldn't dare voice the impudent request anyway, but my body had no such reservations; my core tightened of its own accord and my hips rose up to met her as she continued slurping, sucking, and occasionally humming in appreciative gratitude. Remnants of her heavy eyeliner began to reactivate as her eyes welled with dewy tears, and her ass began to ripple subtly with the new dedication that she showed in forcing herself down onto me. The pleasant, softly burbling slurps were slowing crowded out by more insistent, blunt sounds; another minute of intensified bucking and Alice abruptly slammed herself down a little too hard.

"GAHHHK!" she coughed, leaning back away from my now ruinously slimy cock, never ceasing in her fist's pumping, pistoning strokes. Her own chin was painted in the same clear, viscous mess that thoroughly drenched everything between my legs, including the couch. "Such a perfect fucking cock!" She battered herself in the face with a half dozen wet slaps of my heavy meat in a spectacularly pornographic display. Capitulating forward again, too confidently, she punched herself in the back of the throat painfully; a wet burping heave bubbled up from within her and her back arched violently the wrong way - I was sure I'd be promptly reacquainted with her pancakes.

"Ohhhhh fuck," she gulped, gasping for breath as she sat back on her heels to recover, "it might be too...too big for that." She laughed with a disbelieving shake of her head, still generously stroking my painfully hard shaft in a messy hand while bobbing up and down where she sat like an impishly impatient child. She leaned in and smeared the thing across her face grotesquely, slopping the oozing drool across her firmly shut eyelids, forehead, lips, and cheeks. "Ahhh," she moaned, cracking the meaty fistful of cock across her tongue a few times, "look at me, baby boy, you've made me into such a messy little whore!"

I'd never thought I'd hear her speak like that at all, but was hardly going to disagree, especially with her blinking vacantly up at me with eyes nearly glued shut with bubbly mucus. "You look so beautiful!" I said truthfully. She beamed at me proudly, sitting all the way back up and smearing the mess off her face with both hands and wiping them on her heavy tear-drop tits. She struck demure little poses back and forth, blinking up into the corner of the room with her hands in her lap like an obscene editorial model before the pretend façade slipped and we both broke out laughing.