Dar White

I'm not a wild girl. My roommate, Kay, is, though, so naturally she was out at the clubs while I was in our apartment studying for a macroeconomics exam. I shouldn't have even been in the class in the first place, but I had a point to prove to my father, who didn't think women were capable of anything besides home economics. I admit, it was a struggle to keep the consumption and production functions straight in my mind, but I'd be damned if I was going to give up now.

So it was getting pretty late, and I was lying on the couch, deep in my textbook, trying to keep my eyes open, when I heard Kay come in. I could hear her babbling to herself before she made it to the living room; I thought maybe she had her headphones on or something and was singing. But she wasn't; she was just kind of muttering happily to herself. She looked flushed as if she had run up the stairs, but her breathing wasn't heavy; it just seemed deep and even.

"Hey, baby," she said when she came into the room, "You studying, you little book worm, baby? Put the book away, we got to have fun."

"I can see you've had fun," I said. What was she doing calling me baby? She was standing in front of the couch swaying slightly -- more undulating actually, as if she were slowly dancing to music in her head. Her short, dark hair was a little mussed, windblown; usually she was fastidious about how it looked, to the point of annoyingly looking for mirrors all the time, but now she just let alone.

"God I feel so good, so good, so good," she said. "So amazing!" She licked her lips and smiled sort of vacantly at me, seeming to look right past me. She looked a bit dewy with a film of sweat and her T-shirt clung tight to her swaying body. I could see her hard nipples poking against the fabric. "Take your glasses off! No more reading."

"Are you fucked up or something?" I asked.

"Yeah, I guess," she said. "I don't care." Her hips swiveled slowly and her ass was bouncing up and down, left and right; it almost seemed as if she were intentionally trying to stick it up in the air."

"What are you doing?" I asked. "You want to stand still for a second?"

"No, baby, I gotta move," she cooed. "It feels so good. I had the best time tonight, I can't even -- I don't even know what, how to explain it! We were at this club, and this guy hooked me up with something, you just gotta try it." Her eyes were wide and her pupils were slightly dilated, but more curious was her smile, which was almost lascivious, something I only saw on her when she was really drunk and flirting. She pretty much never looked at me like that, all leering. "Come on, sit up, Lena, come on," she cajoled. Kay's eyes were wide and almost glistening.

Grudgingly I closed the textbook and righted myself on the couch and ran my hands through my hair, which had gotten all tangled. Kay was still undulating, as if she were weathering slow waves that were passing over her. Her body seemed to be humming. She was still moving her hips and rubbing her thighs together, as if she were impatiently waiting for something.

"You want to sit down?" I asked her. Then she plopped right next to me on the sofa, bouncing me up on the cushion. She was way in my personal space, and she smelled musky. 'What are you doing, Kay?" I said, trying to push her away playfully, but to my surprise she grabbed my arm and stroked it for a moment. For a minute I let her and her eyes were looking out into the distance, past me again as if she didn't know what she was doing.

"You're warm," she said. "Feels good." Her eyes sharpened in focus again and she smiled that same satisfied smile at me. For a minute we were both mesmerized. I must have been a little sleepy or something, but I was just watching her wide eyes gleaming and her moistened lips and her chest heaving with deep, even breaths, her nipples still poking her T-shirt, which had pulled up a bit over her hips and showed a slash of her bare tan skin above her waist. Her hand stroking my arm in a slow, easy rhythm, the rhythm with which her hips had been undulating. "Oh, Lena," she said. Then she seemed to realize what she was doing and dropped my arm. "I'm sorry, baby, I'm all touchy-feely right now."

I could feel her squirming on the couch beside me. She literally couldn't sit still. Her hair was still a little mussed; I was so used to it looking perfect like a wig. "Where were you?" I asked her softly. I was used to her going out, getting into crazy situations, coming home all wasted, sometimes alone, sometimes not; but this night seemed different. I never saw her act quite like this. I felt like we were slowly slipping into a dream, and it occurred to me that I might have fallen asleep on the couch. But then I touched Kay's leg, and no, it was too real. It was no dream.

"You know," she said. "A club. Or a party. But you got to try this stuff," she said, nodding slowly. "This beautiful guy hooked me up with some, and it's amazing. I've never done anything like it. It's called dark white."

"Dark white?"

"You have to try it. Come on, you just gotta," she said. Her voice was eager and imploring, kind of like a little girl begging her parents for candy in the supermarket isle or something. It fit with her squirming, but made for a strange contrast with her lean, lithe body. It wasn't like her to be girly like this; usually she was sharp and sarcastic, a little haughty. Her lips were pursed and she batted her moist eyes at me a bit. "It's sooo good," she said, "I never did anything like it." That was saying something, because she liked to try everything.

"I never even heard of dark white," I said. "I should look it up on Erowid."

"No, no, no!" she said, grabbing my arm again. "Don't go and get on the Internet. I'll never get you away." Her fingers even seemed impatient, quivering, massaging the soft flesh of my forearm. "I want you to hang out with me, I want you to try it. It's sooo good, Lena, you got to believe me." She took my hand then and absently put it on her leg, just below where her short little skirt stopped. She had goosebumps. It gave me goosebumps too, thinking about it, as a sort of weightless feeling passed through my stomach.

"What is it?" I asked warily, trying to disguise the untoward excitement that was building in me, a feeling I wasn't sure I want to acknowledge even to myself. Why was I having these yearnings all of a sudden? Why did I suddenly feel attracted, almost sexually, even, to my roommate? I'd been living with her for more than a year now and never felt anything like this. I even shared her bed with her one night when we had a party and some freaky dude passed out in mine.

One time I even caught her masturbating -- I think -- when one of my classes was canceled one morning. I came home, and of course she was still in bed. She tends to sleep in until noon just about every day it seems. I wouldn't have paid any mind to her, but then I heard these sounds coming from her bedroom, bed squeaks and what sounded like some sort of scuffle. I had this panicked moment of thinking that maybe some intruder had broken into Kay's bedroom or something, because I knew she had come home alone the night before. So I grabbed the wooden baseball bat we kept by the door for just this sort of occasion and I crept up to her door, which was slightly ajar.

The squeaking of the springs was louder and there was a panting sound, the sort of thing you hear at the gym from the people working out on the nautilus machines. I peered in, and there was Kay, naked on top of her sheets, which were have tossed off the bed, and both her hands were between her legs. Her eyes were closed but her face was ecstatic. I felt a start and almost gasped out loud, but then I caught myself. It was so shocking I didn't even think to be embarrassed at first. I took another look and saw that she had some sort of dildo or vibrator in her hand, and she was working it in and out of her. It was the rawest thing I think I have ever seen, sheer carnality. I was transfixed for a moment, as it seemed like she was about to climax, judging by how she was thrashing herself around, her breasts heaving up and down as she bucked her hips against the phallus she was thrusting on.

Never before that moment did it ever occur to me that she might masturbate. It was a weird to have it dawn on me all of a sudden, watching her fuck herself silly like that.

Now she was beside me on the couch, and some of that carnality was back in her face. Her hand was on top of mine on her leg, which was pulsing beneath my palm. I could feel her thigh muscles going taut and then relax, taut and then relax, in an easy yet insistent rhythm. "Come on," she said. "Just try some. Don't even worry about it. Just do it for a change, do something. You know you never want to just do things with me. I always have to go out alone and I always invite you and you're always rejecting me."

She was smiling still, so I knew she was just teasing, but there was some truth to that. I did feel guilty about it sometimes. I took my hand off her leg and tried to collect my thoughts for a second. "You're sure about this?" I asked.

"Oh my God, Lena," she said laughing. "You don't even know. It only takes a little bit. It's like nothing, but baby it will make you go off. I never felt anything like this before. You are gonna love it, you of all people."

"Why do you say that?" I said.

"You're all hung up and everything," she said. "No offense. But this will blow right past all that, make you feel good and even you won't be able to psych yourself out of it. You just got to let go."

"Is this safe?" I asked. "What is it?"

"Dark white," she said, giggling. She reached for my hand again.

"Jesus, Kay, you are touchy-feely."

"But you're so warm," she said. "It feels good. My skin's all tingly. You'll see." She pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her purse, which she had set at her feet, and from inside the pack she fished out a little folded-up piece of paper. She started giggling again to herself. "This shit is unbelievable!" she said amid her laughter. She put the little paper on the coffee table and then stopped to pull her T-shirt back down over her hips. Her nipples were still as flagrantly hard as they were when she got home. I was suddenly strangely conscious of my own breasts for a minute; I wondered how it would feel to have hardened nipples for that long, and the thought of how good it feels when they are hard and a breeze of cool air passes over them, or the puff of a lover's breath, rushed through me with a chill that made me shudder. Kay had a perfect body, I always thought; she was long, lean, with small round breasts that were curvaceous without being ostentatious. They didn't cry out for notice, but when you noticed, you noticed how perfectly proportionate they were, and how pert and shapely. Her legs were slim, her ankles thin and well-turned.

I envied her all of that; I'm tall but a bit broad shouldered, and my breasts were big enough to be heavy to me, and attract me unwanted attention and be something of a nuisance. I don't always feel like I come across as very feminine, and it's hard to get clothes that flatter my sort of figure. I usually keep my hair long, like it is now, to compensate, and I love the way it feels, cascading down my back. I like nothing more than when I can convince someone to brush it for me, or at least run their fingers through it gently and slowly. It's sensory overflow for me; gets me hot and bothered in an instant.

I realized I was sitting there doing it to myself, unconsciously running my hand through the tresses that were slung over my shoulder. Kay was shaking out a tiny little bit of white powder from the paper she'd unfolded right onto the coffee table. Then she used the filter end of a cigarette to push the powder into two tiny piles.

So this was dark white. It was a fluffy looking substance, like baby powder, but it seemed almost fluorescent, even in the tiny quantity Kay had shaken out. "That's all you need?" I asked skeptically, still running a hand through my hair nervously.

Kay was still swaying slowly, licking her lips, contemplating the powder pyramids she'd made. "Oh, yeah, baby. That's all you need." She giggled. "Oh come on" she burst out. "Roll up a bill or something, let's do it!"

"I'm in my pajamas," I said. "It's not like I've got my wallet on me." It wasn't pajamas, literally, more what I always wore to bed -- a big oversize T-shirt I stole from my brother a long time ago and an old pair of flannel pants. Not the sexiest lingerie, I know, but I was too self-conscious for frilly, lacy things anyway. Of course, Kay wasn't. She went in for black bras and negligees, stuff like that. The bedroom's the best place to play dress-up, she would joke. Sometimes she'd walk around the apartment in these gauzy silk slips and I'd be like, God, Kay, the neighbors! She didn't care. Being watched wasn't about to make her embarrassed.

She ruffled through her purse again and pulled out her wallet. She didn't pull out a bill but instead got out someone's business card. "Wonder where I got this," she said as she delicately tried to scrape it under one of the piles. Her hand was tremoring slightly, so the whole operation was pretty precarious. "Fuck," she said finally. "You better do this."

She handed me the card, which from someone named Jean Lapollitte. No job title or anything, just the name, in a flattened all-caps font, and a few phone numbers embossed beneath it. "Who's Jean Lapollitte?" I asked.

"I don't know. Come on, let's do this, before you start getting cold feet." She was lean forward over the table, and then I look back and saw she was actually arching her back, grinding her ass against the edge of the sofa lewdly. Her shirt was coming up again, riding up her skin as she swiveled.

"I can see your eager," I said.

"I can't describe it, Lena, I can't stop rubbing," she said. "But it feels so good! Come on, come on, come on!" She was almost squealing like an excited little girl. It was so strange; I never thought of her as ever being a little girl before. But she was so excited, and her face was suffused with such unrestrained, unashamed pleasure, she looked almost innocent, like a child. "Here, come on, do me first," she said gesturing to the powder. "My hand's are just a little unsteady."

"I'll say." She was still eagerly on the edge of the sofa, slowly but surely grinding her hips. I feel her legs rolling back and forth beside me. Delicately I piled the powder on to the corner edge of Jean Lapollitte's card and then slowly, carefully I raised it toward Kay's moony, shining face. She licked at her lips quickly, her tongue darting out and around, and after a quick glance into my eyes, full of rapturous excitement, she dipped her head down and with a quick snort took the dark white up into her nostril.

"Ohhhh," she moaned. Immediately she stretched languidly backward against the couch cushion. "Ooooh," she said. "Yessssss." Her eyes rolled back a bit as if she were staring at the ceiling, but I'm guessing she wasn't seeing anything. What had been a slow undulation in the way she had been rocking and squirming became way more pronounced right away, a kind of thrusting took over her pelvis and torso, which twisted and revolved seductively, stretching her perfect little round breasts across her chest, tight against her shirt, nipples still hard, jutting out, almost seeming to throb.

"Wow, that must be some good stuff," I said.

"Mmmm hmmmm," she purred. "Do yours." She continued to writhe with herself on the sofa beside me and it was a bit distracting, I didn't quite want to turn away. I noticed that her hand was reaching between her thighs and was pressing desperately as reached down and pushed as far as she could go on the outside of her skirt.

I realized my heart was virtually racing. I didn't know why. I wasn't sure what this dark white was going to do to me, but if it did half as much to me as it seemed to do to Kay, there's no telling how I would feel. I am not really into feeling out of control, and if Kay was anything, she was totally disinhibited right now. She was rubbing herself was no shame as if she had altogether forgotten I was beside her, bucking her groin against her hand and mewling to herself little coos of pleasure and hunger.

"Lena," I heard her mumble. "Come on, it's sooo good! Mmmmmm." One hand was still between her legs, and the other one was running over her breasts, strumming on her pointy nipples.

I don't know what I was thinking, agreeing to this. But it had all gone too far to turn back, and what was the worst that could happen, anyway. I dipped the corner beneath the other little pile of dark white, and as Kay continued to softly moan and squirm aside of me, I lifted up to my nose, and then, one, two, three...

"Whoa," I said lowly, as the powder dripped back to my throat. Almost instantly I was on fire. It felt like every hair on my body was standing straight on end and a flush of heat ripped through me, from my toes, up and down my arms and legs and down through my stomach, and especially in my cunt, which was starting instantly to soak. I could feel my nipples stiffening under my T-shirt and getting acutely sensitive to the play of the fabric on them, so sensitive I let out a little "Ohh" which actually went on a lot longer than I meant it to, like a little moan. My voice sounded strange to me.

"Oh, yeah," Kay was saying, bucking against herself. "Oh, yeah. You feel it, right? You feel it. You feel it, it's so good. So good." She had started to work her one hand under her skirt so she could get at her clit, I guess, and I could see why, because I felt mine starting to become engorged, starting to poke through my nether lips, crying out for some kind of caressing contact.

"What is this shit," I gasped, as I caught my breath. I noticed I was squirming a little bit myself, and it was hard to make myself stop. Not that I tried. It felt so good to rub my skin on skin. I wish I wasn't wearing any clothes all of a sudden -- the thought shot through me, how delicious it would be to feel skin on skin all over my body. "Oh my God," I said, and it came out surprisingly like a squeak. "Kay?" I said. "Kay this is crazy. You did this stuff in public?"

"It was a hot club," she said. "I hit it on the dance floor and I almost fell over. Soon I was grinding with this total stranger. I don't know, male or female. It didn't matter. I was strapped on to them, grinding. Ohhh yeah." Her panties were pulled off now and her legs were open, one up on the couch the other spread against me, and she was working her clit with her darting fingers. I couldn't believe what was happening to me, what I was seeing, what I was feeling.

I tried to catch my breath but I couldn't, I was panting, my mouth open and dry, I kept licking but I couldn't make my mouth moist enough. I never felt my breasts so sensitive before, they felt heavy but full of this tingly electricity every time I shifted, and I could stop myself from shifting, in these slow languorous movements, ever second of which was unspeakably delicious. My eyes were open but I could hardly see as I was overloading with raw sensual pleasure.

In all my experiences, I never felt anything quite like this, even in the heaviest of encounters with a lover. I never felt this turned on, this abandoned to what sensation was flooding in on me through every nerve in my body. I couldn't have been more turned on if I were plugged into an electrical socket. It was like torture and ecstasy at once; the clothes on my body seemed incredibly unnatural all of a sudden and I was dying to shed them, and I couldn't believe that Kay didn't feel the same way.

Maybe she did. When I was able to fix my eyes on her, I saw she had lifted her shirt up above her breasts, and she was rolling her nipples in her fingers with her mouth hanging open, grunting audibly.