Nothing To Prove

6 It Might Be More Than Physical

Ashton

It didn't really hit me that Samantha was officially my roommate until two hours after leaving Malibu, when we ate lunch at a restaurant and I gave her the apartment keys.

No big deal, though. She was just a girl. It'd be the same thing as living with Kevin. If Kevin was a beautiful girl with a cute little face, a stamackable ass, and set of perfect tits.

But those were just human body parts. I wasn't a horny teenager anymore. I was a man, and I could control my body when I had to.

We talked about the bills, our work schedules, any hard rules. The one part that sucked was that she could only afford six hundred dollars. It was supposed to be thirteen. I didn't tell her though.

Then she offered to clean and make extra food since we paid unequally (she thought it was a few hundred dollar difference). It was sweet of her, but the answer was no. First of all, I didn't want to live with my mother and second, my cleaning lady already cleaned exactly how I wanted.

And I wasn't eating fucking tofu.

So anyway. Kev moved out and took most of his shit. Just left his bed and dresser. Sam was supposed to move in on Saturday, because I worked on Friday and couldn't help her.

Except Friday around midnight, she texted me that her friend had already helped her move in.

"What friend? I didn't know you had any," I said into the phone.

She just chuckled, which was not good. Not good at ALL.

So, some guy from work wanted to fuck her and was pretending to be nice by helping her move in? Interesting. Very interesting. Oh, I hope to run into this fella soon for a little chat.

"Should I come back tomorrow?" She asked on the other line. "Sorry, I didn't want to bug you with helping me, but if you wanted to be alone tonight, I can leave and come back tomorrow?"

"Are you crazy? No."

Work ended around 3 and for the first time, I was careful unlocking my door. Her lights were still on behind her closed bedroom door.

Right. Scared of the dark.

I looked around for any changes, expecting fuzzy blankets on the couch and sculptures that looked like a two-year-old could doodle, but people called art.

But no, the living room was untouched. Did she not feel comfortable?

In the kitchen, she'd added a yellow toaster-oven, a blue blender, and pink teacups behind the glass shelves. I checked the cabinets, finding more colorful things. Knives, pots, cutting boards. It was definitely odd to see in comparison to my stainless steel tea kettle and white everything.

I padded to the bathroom and stripped down to my briefs when I noticed the new bathmat.

SHOWER. It said over a rainbow. Thank God for the reminder, otherwise I would eat here.

My gray bottles had girly neighbors now. I uncapped each one. Vanilla milk and papaya shampoo? I thought she was vegan. Hypocrite.

I also found a yellow fluffy ball hanging on the faucet handle. Did she use this to wash herself? Naked Sam with water running down her breasts, as she lathered with this fluffy ball. Tilting her head back, mouth open, touching herself—

I turned the water off and glared at my stiffening cock.

Thankfully exhaustion saved me from jerking off. I woke up in the morning from the locking sound on the front door. She already left for work?