Page 9 of Loud Hot Roomie
My dick jolts, calling me out for that lie. I ignore it.
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” I grumble, skirting past him as fast as I can. “Bye, Riko.”
“Bye, Derek. I hate oatmeal. Love snickerdoodle. But for blow jobs, I enjoy a side of ass fingering. Get your finger nice and wet first, though, because that shit hurts otherwise—”
I slam the front door behind me, thankfully endingthatconversation.
But, the entire way to work, I can’t erase his words from my head no matter how much I try to focus on the music blasting from the speakers.
Flashes of his firm, muscular ass assault my mind against my will.
And why do I like the idea of my hand smacking it?
Riko has finally infiltrated my mind.
I am so fucked.
Riko
Sometimes I act before I think. I sure as shit speak before I consider the ramifications. I’ve fucked up and I know it. The look on Derek’s face before he stormed out of the house this morning has remained etched in my brain.
He hates me.
Can’t say I blame him.
After the thrill of riling him up passed, I was overcome with guilt and shame. There’s no reason to torment the poor guy. Sure, he’s hot. Would I love to make good on all the teasing? Hell yeah. But, I enjoyed the thrill of poking the bear for no other reason than my sole entertainment.
I’m a shitty roommate.
And, if I keep up my antics, I’ll have to run my ass back home with my tail between my legs.
That can’t happen which is why I’ve spent the whole damn day cleaning the house. Plus, I literally have nothing else to do. When you decide to quit college, it frees up quite a bit of time.
After bagging up an embarrassing amount of trash in my bedroom, I make my second trip to the dumpster for the day. It’s not exactly close, but not far enough to drive either, so I make the trek past a couple of other units on foot. Having been on my feet all day, my hamstring is aching. Unfortunately, ibuprofen isn’t cutting it.
One of the units directly across from the dumpsters has a neat and tidy front porch. However, their neighbors are ridiculous. There are lawn chairs all over the grass and emptybeer cans overflow from a trashcan in the middle. Hanging from two trees is a barrel painted to look like a bull. These neighbor seem fun. Too bad I didn’t get set up with them instead.
And miss the hottie in his brown uniform?
I just need to make peace with my roomie. It’s all good. Doesn’t mean I can’t come introduce myself later to these people.
On my way back, I pass the tidy unit, another unit, and stop in front of the third unit when a soccer ball rolls right over to me. I whip my head up to see two school age kids grinning at me.
“Want to play with us?” the boy asks. He’s missing a tooth.
“We saw your shirt said Ronaldo on the back,” the girl chimes in. “We know you like soccer too.”
I’m not sure the girl is old enough to read.
“I play college soccer,” I say with a nod. “I’m Riko.”
“This is Eloise,” the boy tells me. “She’s five. I’m Topher and I’m seven.”
I pick up the soccer ball and then toss it in the air. The kids shriek with excitement when I show them my skill as I keep the ball in the air using my feet, shins, chest, shoulders, and head.
“Keepie uppie,” I tell them with a grin. “I started doing this when I was Eloise’s age.”
She rushes over to us her curly red pigtails bouncing. “Will you teach me how?”
