Rummates Pt. 03

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


*Author’s Note: Any and all persons willingly engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microwave Spoil-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.


“No, no, sick of you treating this place like it’s a hotel; just come and go as you please,” Kyrie Summer’s mother snapped.

“I, but I didn’t, I just…” Kyrie argued, even though she knew it would do no good.

“So, you got one week, one week find yourself some other place to live,” Magda Kiedahl snapped.

Behind her mother, Kyrie could see Byron Kiedahl. Kyrie did not know why, but her step-father seemed to harbor some sort of animosity toward her. With a sigh, the portly nineteen year old girl nodded her head and tiredly made her way to her bedroom.

It had been her day off from her job at the Burns Tonya’s notice of her missing kitten was still up. Kyrie loved animals and could empathize with Tonya’s sadness over losing a kitten. Buford was still trying to sell his John Deere lawn tractor.

“Hey, Kyrie, what up girl?” Monica, another cashier asked, walking into the break room.

“Hey, Monica, you know if Luke’s still looking for a roommate?” Kyrie asked, reading what looked like a fairly new card stuck to the corkboard.

“No. Luke’s looking for a roommate? What happened to his boyfriend Milt?” Monica asked, looking at the small note with mild interest.

Kyrie pulled her cell phone out of her uniform blouse’s pocket and called the number. The rumor was that Luke was gay and his current roommate, Milton Overton and he were lovers. Kyrie didn’t care, as long as they didn’t have sex in front of her.

“Hello?” Luke’s deep, rich voice reverberated and Kyrie felt her insides turn to jelly at the sound of his strong, masculine voice.

“Hey, uh, Luke? Hi, uh, this, this is Kyrie. From work?” Kyrie stammered.

“Hmm? Hi, Kyrie from work,” Luke teased. “This is Luke from home. So, what’s up?”

“You know what I mean, goofball,” Kyrie laughed. “Hey, this thing says you looking for a roommate.”

Even though she would not get out of work until after the store closed, Luke agreed that Kyrie could come over and look at the duplex. Kyrie ended the call then hurried through her two peanut butter and banana sandwiches and her bag of pretzels. Then the chubby blonde hurried to clock in and get back to her register.

“Well, it’s about time y’all decided open another register,” an unhappy customer snapped as Kyrie logged into her cash register.

“Yes ma’am,” Kyrie agreed and rang up the woman’s groceries.

The duplex was in a nice middle-class neighborhood. From what Kyrie could see, the homes looked well maintained, there were no cars parked on the lawns, no cars on blocks. The air was too cold to have her window down, but Kyrie could not hear any booming, thudding music as she drove along the street.

“Hi, are you Kyrie from work?” Luke asked, opening the door to Kyrie’s knock.

“Cut it out,” Kyrie laughed, looking up at the handsome man.

Luke had claimed the front bedroom for himself; the closet was smaller, but it had a three-quarter bathroom. The second bedroom had a nice sized closet. Kyrie would have full and sole use of the hall bathroom.

“As you can see, Milt kept it pretty clean,” Luke said and Kyrie agreed.

Sitting down at his dining table, Luke and Kyrie went over the expenses. While they talked, Kyrie looked Luke over. He was handsome, in a slightly rough-hewn way. She didn’t know his age; she guessed he was in his late twenties, with shaggy brown hair, deep brown eyes, a nose that had been broken once or twice, and a strong square jaw. When he smiled, Kyrie could see a chipped upper tooth right in the front.

At six two, he was nearly a foot taller than she. His arms were muscled and his chest was broad. In his unbuttoned Henley crew shirt, Kyrie could see a few sprigs of chest hair and she clamped her thighs together.

“So, first and last month’s…” Kyrie verified.

“Half the cable; that comes with wi-fi, and don’t tell me ‘oh I never watch TV’ because that’s bullshit,” Luke said.

Kyrie did not find anything objectionable in the list of expenses or in the neatly typed list of rules so used her cell phone to make the transfers. After Luke verified that the transfer had gone through, Kyrie was given a key to the front and rear doors and the key to her bedroom’s lock.

“There’s a lock on my door?” Kyrie asked, surprised.

Mm hmm. Thank God, too. Roommate before Milt? Guy was a stone cold liar and a thief. Was so glad the landlord had put deadbolts on the doors,” Luke said. “Took to where I was locking everything in my room; even food.”

“I don’t see nothing Trabzon Escort about guests,” Kyrie suggested, blushing hotly. “I uh, suppose I uh, you know, uh, someone comes over and spends the night?”

“The night. The night. Not the week,” Luke said. They spend the night? That’s fine. Three four nights later and they still here? Then they need to fill out the application and pay their part of the rent and utilities and cable.”

“Where were you?” Kyrie’s mother demanded when Kyrie finally arrive home, an hour late from her shift.

“You told me I needed to find a place; I found a place,” Kyrie said.

“At ten o’clock at night, Kyrie? Really? Just how stupid do you think I am?” Magda snapped.

In answer, Kyrie showed her mother the two new keys on her Winnie the Pooh keychain. Two days later, Luke and Rodney, the mentally challenged bag boy that usually worked Kyrie’s station came and helped Kyrie move from her mother and step-father’s home to her new home.

Her third day of living in the duplex, Kyrie woke up and staggered from bedroom to bathroom. She wore her usual short flannel shift with matching bikini panties, not bothering with a robe. After all, it was two steps from bedroom to bathroom.

Wobbling from bathroom to kitchen, Kyrie forgot about putting a robe on over her skimpy sleepwear. She smiled a sleepy ‘good morning to Luke. She stretched up to fetch a coffee mug, again unmindful of her manner of dress. Her light pink panties were easily visible from Luke’s vantage point on the couch.

Kyrie dug out a cereal bowl and a box of Cocoa Puffs cereal. Luke pretended to watch television; Vee Aucoin of the Performance 12 morning news was predicting a rare snow for the bitterly cold February day. But instead of watching the attractive meteorologist bend and stretch, Luke was watching Kyrie’s pudgy thighs and the very snug crotch of her panties. When she carried bowl and spoon and coffee mug to the kitchen, Luke watched Kyrie’s ample buttocks shimmy and wobble. When she bent to put bowl and spoon into the bottom rack of the dishwasher, Luke almost lost the fight against groaning.

“If it snows, what happens to our shift?” Kyrie asked, now scratching her belly.

“We work,” Luke answered, now looking at her pretty face, her pretty, brilliant blue eyes. “But don’t worry; my truck’s got four wheel drive; I’ll get us there and home.”

“Good,” Kyrie beamed.

Luke drove them to work, then the assistant manager kept an eye on the conditions outside. Luke also kept checking his Weather Channel app on his phone. He was very relieved to hand off managerial duties to Donna Goodwin when the manager came in at four that afternoon.

Luke did not know if he’d reached down and taken Kyrie’s hand, or if Kyrie had reached up and taken his hand as they scurried from the ‘Employees’ door to his truck. But he did not release her hand until they reached his truck. He unlocked her door and then helped her up into the truck.

Kyrie did not know if she had grabbed onto Luke’s hand, or if he had grabbed onto her hand, but she had not minded the gentle, intimate contact. She also had not minded his large hand resting squarely on her chubby backside as he helped her into the truck.

“And…here it comes,” Luke said as the first flake of snow struck the windshield and melted almost immediately.

“It’s snowing!” Kyrie squealed excitedly.

“You’re off tomorrow,” Luke mused out loud.

“Uh huh,” Kyrie agreed, watching a few more flakes hit the windshield.

There was a fine dusting of snow covering the lawn and driveway when Luke pulled up to their duplex. Luke helped Kyrie down from the truck and the two scampered to get to their front door. The wind was bitterly cold and blew pellets of ice into their faces.

“Okay, you like rum?” Luke asked as they burst into the warm living room.

“Rum, I, I guess,” Kyrie said, unsure. “I guess; I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever had it but…”

“Oh, I bet you’ll like this rum,” Luke assured her. “Go get in your jammies and we’ll have some rum toddies.”

Kyrie did exactly that. She put on her short shift and matching panties, then pulled on her fuzzy socks and her thick robe.

Stepping into the kitchen, Kyrie saw that Luke wore a pair of sweat pants and a ULD Storm tee shirt. His feet were jammed into a pair of flannel lined moccasins.

“You look so cute like that,” Luke smiled as he poured her a hot rum toddy.

“What? It’s just an old…” Kyrie said, accepting the beverage.

“All snuggled up like that,” Luke went on and guided her to the large couch.

“Oh. Yeah, yeah I am all snuggled up, huh?” Kyrie agreed happily.

Luke put the Weather Channel on and muted the sound. The two roommates watched the forecast, Trabzon Escort Bayan watched the bands of snow that was predicted for their area.

“Want another?” Luke asked as Kyrie finished her drink.

“Hmm? Mm hmm,” Kyrie said, warm and content.

“See? Told you you’d like it,” Luke smiled.

Luke made them each another hot rum toddy and the two sat, cuddled together on the couch. Luke switched the television over to Performance 12 and Kyrie gasped, delighted as Meteorologist Vee Aucoin stood in the snow, showing a winter wonderland outside of the Channel 12 studio. Kyrie laughed out loud when Summer Duhon, a young reporter hurled a snowball at Vee, striking the beautiful meteorologist squarely on the buttocks of her far too snug ski pants.

“John? Cut to commercial while I kill Summer?” Vee cooed sweetly into the camera, then scooped up a snowball of her own.

“Another?” Luke asked as Kyrie emptied her second mug of rum toddy.

“I, no, no, I, I’m kind of starting to feel it,” Kyrie slurred slightly.

“What’s wrong with you? That’s the whole point,” Luke admitted and she giggled and slapped his muscled arm.

“By the way, how old are you?” Luke casually asked.

“Nineteen,” Kyrie said. Made nineteen right before Christmas. Why my Momma named me Kyrie; she was at Mass and heard them singing Kyrie’ and thought it sounded so cool, you know?”

“Nine, nineteen? Mean, I’m old, well, almost old enough to be your daddy?” Luke smiled and looped a casual arm around Kyrie’s pudgy shoulders.

“What? How old are you?” Kyrie asked, snuggling closer to Luke.

“Thirty four; fixing be thirty five either February twenty eighth or March first,” Luke said.

“Either…you you’re not sure?” Kyrie asked, smelling his manly scent.

“Born on Leap Day,” Luke smiled.

Kyrie attempted to do the math in her head. Luke smiled as he watched her draw in the air, trying to calculate it out.

“Nineteen eighty eight. Means I’m fifteen years, almost sixteen years older than you,” Luke finally said.

“OhmyGod, you ARE old enough to be my Daddy!” Kyrie giggled.

“Uh huh,” Luke chuckled, then adopted a deeper voice. “Does my little girl want to go outside a make a snowman? Or have a snowball fight?”

Kyrie shivered and burrowed against Luke. She shook her head ‘No.’

“Ew, no, Daddy; it’s too cold outside,” Kyrie squeaked.

“Oh? But then we could have hot chocolate when we get back in,” Luke suggested.

“Or more rum toddies,” Kyrie suggested.

“Hmm? Oh, oh of course, more rum toddies, warm Daddy’s little girl up. Get her all warm and toasty,” Luke agreed, rubbing Kyrie’s chubby arm.

They did not move from the couch, though. The last few moments of the Rodney Prejean Hour played out, then Channel 12 cut back to Vee Aucoin’s coverage of the heavy snowfall. Kyrie jerked, startled when she felt Luke’s lips at the top of her head. She’d nearly been asleep, huddled against him on the comfortable couch, his arm around her, his scent in her nostrils.

“I’m fixing to make some country fried steak and mashed potatoes; want some?” Luke asked.

“Mm!” Kyrie agreed. “Yes, please; that sounds so good.”

Even though they’d agreed from the start that each would be responsible for their own meals, Kyrie had only had to fix herself breakfast and one dinner when Luke had the evening shift and she’d worked the morning shift. Otherwise, Luke cooked and invited Kyrie to join him.

Again, Kyrie was nearly asleep when Luke roused her to come eat dinner. Sleepily she smiled as he helped her to her feet.

“This is yummy,” Kyrie complimented as she chewed through her meal.

“Yummy for my little girl’s tummy?” Luke smiled.

“Mm hmm! Yes, Daddy, yummy for my tummy,” Kyrie smiled happily.

After dinner, Luke fixed them each another rum toddy. Then, to Kyrie’s surprise, and delight, Luke kissed ‘his little girl’ goodnight. Her lips tingled where his five o’clock shadow rasped against her tender lips.

The moment his door clicked shut, Kyrie scampered to her own room. Inside of her room, she rooted around in her dresser drawer until she found her glass vibrator. The eight inch long Pyrex device had a satisfying girth to it, filled her deliciously. Kyrie slipped out of her panties, lay back on her bed, and switched the powerful motor on.

“Ooh,” Kyrie shivered when she brought the very cold bulbous head to the entrance of her pussy.

The device did warm as she plunged the firm dong in and out of herself. The hard, unyielding instrument hummed and buzzed and throbbed as she drove it in and out of her drooling pussy. She brought her other hand down, down from pinching and tugging her nipples, down to her sweaty anus.

Kyrie fucked Escort Trabzon her pussy with the dong, fucked her rectum with two, then three fingers until she crested in orgasm. Finally satiated, Kyrie turned the motor off. Bringing it to her mouth, she sucked the glass dildo clean, then stuffed it into the pocket of her robe. Kyrie felt quite naughty, tottering from bedroom to bathroom without any panties on. True, her robe was tightly cinched around her waist, but she could feel the material of her robe rubbing against her bare buttocks.

In the morning, Kyrie wiggled into her panties before leaving her bedroom. She scampered to the bathroom; she supposed rum was still driving her urgent need to urinate.

“Good morning; oatmeal. Nice and hot for a good start to the day,” Luke offered as Kyrie staggered into the kitchen.

“Ooh, Daddy, thank you,” Kyrie enthused, watching as Luke drizzled some honey into the bubbling porridge.

“Hmm? Oh, oh of course. Yummy for my little girl’s tummy,” Luke smiled.

His smile widened when Kyrie gave him a tight embrace. He bent and pressed his lips to hers and turned off the stove.

“Ew, Daddy, you need to shave,” Kyrie playfully complained.

They sat on the couch, bowls of oatmeal perched on the coffee table. They ate, watching the Performance 12 News broadcast. Of course, the record setting four inches of snow dominated the news and Vee Aucoin was in her element as she chattered on and on about cold fronts, arctic conditions, previous weather records.

“You going be able to make it to work?” Kyrie asked, resting heavily against Luke.

“Afraid so,” Luke said, casually resting his large hand on the bare thigh that stuck out of her robe.

“Be careful,” Kyrie said sincerely.

“Truck’s got four wheel drive,” Luke said casually.

“Uh huh. But then there’s all them idiots that don’t have four wheel drive,” Kyrie said.

To Kyrie’s delight, Luke gave her another kiss at the door. Then, she peered through the living room window as he drove away in the dark morning. When she could no longer see the silhouette of his truck, she scurried to her bedroom, to her trusty glass vibrator.

Kyrie busied herself, doing laundry and cleaning up the living room, kitchen, and her bedroom. While she worked, Channel 12 provided mindless background noise. At lunch time, she watched a rerun of ‘The Cast Iron Stomach’ cooking show, deciding that potato soup did sound good. Because it was a rerun, the recipe was already on the Channel 12 web site and Kyrie prepared the hearty soup. She then covered the pot and left it on the stove; it would make a good supper for her and ‘Daddy.’

Kyrie sent a text message to Luke, letting him know he had potato soup waiting for his dinner that evening. Luke replied, telling her he would bring some deli meat home; they’d have soup and sandwiches.

More snow fell onto St. Elizabeth and St. Ann Parishes throughout the day. Kyrie watched the street outside of the duplex, watched for Luke’s truck. The Rodney Prejean Hour was already wrapping up by the time Luke finally managed to pull into the driveway.

“Why are you so late?” a frantic Kyrie demanded, jerking the door open as Luke staggered up to the door.

“Little girl, you ever try to drive in snow?” Luke smiled tightly.

“I, no,” Kyrie admitted.

“And, you were right. Yeah, I got four wheel drive, but oh my God, the number of idiots out on the road,” Luke continued as he stamped his feet on the threshhold of the door, attempting to not track any snow into the house.

“Now, you make some rum toddies?” Kyrie asked when Luke came into the living room, wearing his lounging outfit of sweat pants and tee shirt.

“For a kiss,” Luke bargained.

With a smile, Kyrie pressed her lips against his. She held the kiss for a long moment, then playfully rubbed his cheek.

“Daddy, you need to shave,” she said, then stood on tip-toes and kissed him again.

According to Vee Aucoin, the temperature had warmed up to thirty six degrees. Some of the snow would melt in the warmer air.

“The problem is? The moment the sun goes down, the air temperature will drop to about twenty nine degrees,” Vee continued. “So, that melted snow will freeze again, but it will freeze into ice, making conditions very dangerous out there.”

“You and I work tomorrow morning,” Luke told Kyrie as they sipped their hot beverages. “Because of the ice? We need to leave here probably about thirty minutes early, okay?”

“Okay,” Kyrie agreed.

After their supper of soup and sandwiches, Kyrie gave Luke another kiss for another rum toddy. Again, they huddled on the couch, Luke’s arm draped around Kyrie’s shoulders.

“I used to be a cheerleader,” Kyrie confided as a local car dealership’s commercial flashed on the television.

“Oh yeah?” Luke asked, pulling his eyes from the attractive, large breasted ULD Storm cheerleader that proclaimed that Straughter’s Nissan was a proud supporter of the University of Louisiana at DeGarde’s cheerleaders.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32