My Roommate and What I Heard Every Night

Mariana and I had been friends with benefits ever since she moved into the apartment with me, in her second year of college. I was doing an underpaid internship at a marketing agency, and the half of the rent she covered was the only thing that let me breathe at the end of the month.

I came from a small town inland where Sunday mass was law and nobody talked about sex, not even in a whisper. The first time I brought a girl back to the apartment, I thought she’d pack her things and pray a rosary before running for the door. Instead, she stayed all night in her room with the door ajar. The next morning she asked me, with a slightly trembling voice, if it was always that intense. I told her it depended on the girl. She blushed scarlet.

The months went by and the chemistry between us grew like a plant nobody watered but that still managed not to die. Mariana laughed at my clumsy jokes; I lingered longer than necessary in the kitchen when she cooked in short shorts. Sometimes we’d stay up late drinking wine on the couch, and our knees would brush as if it were an accident.

It wasn’t an accident. It hadn’t been for months.

What finally snapped the cord was a rainy night in late September. I had plans to see Camila, a girl I’d been hooking up with casually since summer, and she canceled at the last minute with an excuse I didn’t even bother arguing with. I was left on the couch in an old T-shirt, a little frustrated, a little angry, listening to the rain hammer the windows.

And listening, too, to what was coming from the other side of the wall.

For weeks, when Mariana thought I was asleep, she had been touching herself. I knew because the walls in that apartment were practically cardboard and because, without meaning to, I’d learned to recognize the rhythm of her breathing when she started. First a short sigh, then a pause, then the soft rustle of sheets. Some nights it ended in a stifled moan that left me awake for an hour, staring at the ceiling.

That night, with the rain and the frustration, it was different. I didn’t want to hear Mariana anymore. I wanted to see her.

I went to my room and tried to masturbate thinking about anything else. I couldn’t do it. I was thinking about her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, the way she bit her lip when she studied, how she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t noticing. After ten minutes I gave up, sat on the bed, and then I heard footsteps in the hall.

The door to her room opened and I heard her cross to the kitchen.

I waited a second, took a breath, and followed her out.

She was barefoot, standing in front of the sink, filling a glass with water. She was wearing a white cotton nightdress, thin with wear, which turned translucent under the yellow light of the little night lamp. The outline of her back, her waist, her hips, stood out like an invitation she didn’t even know she was making.

I approached without making a sound. She straightened just a little when she felt me behind her, ready to turn her head, but I put my hands on her hips before she could move. I felt her body tense and, a second later, relax against mine.

—Were you going back to sleep? —I whispered near her ear.

—Y... yes —she answered, breathless.

I squeezed her waist. I slid my hands slowly up, over her ribs, until I covered her breasts through the nightdress. They were warm, firm, and her nipples hardened against my palms in a matter of seconds.

—Maybe tonight I can help you —I said, still whispering—. That way you won’t have to wait for me to fall asleep.

She froze. I felt her breath stop, then quicken, and very slowly she turned in my arms to look at me. Her eyes were huge, a mixture of fear and hunger I had never seen in her before.

—You were listening to me?

—I was listening to you —I told her, holding her gaze—. I was listening to you touch yourself and say my name. And I was touching myself on the other side of the wall, so I wouldn’t come in and show you what you were doing to me.

I didn’t let her answer. I kissed her.

Her reaction was immediate. She kissed me back with an urgency I hadn’t expected, opening her mouth and clutching my T-shirt as if she were afraid I’d change my mind. I slid one arm around her waist and pressed her against the counter. We were both breathing as if we’d run a race.

I dragged my mouth down her neck, bit her earlobe, kissed her collarbone. With my other hand I lifted the nightdress until it was bunched at her waist.

—Tell me one thing —I whispered—. Are you wet for me?

—Mmm... yes —she answered, eyes closed.

I moved the thin fabric of her panties aside and slid my hand down. She was soaked, hot, sliding over my fingers before I even had time to do anything. I traced a soft line between her folds and she clutched my shoulders, stifling a moan against my neck.

—Please, Lara... —she whispered.

I pulled my hand away. I took her wrist and guided her down the hallway to my room, without saying a word. She let herself be led as if she still couldn’t quite believe what was happening. I laid her on my bed carefully, and when her head touched the pillow I stood there for a second looking down at her, her blue eyes locked on mine.

I had to remind myself, at that moment, that Mariana had never been with anyone. That no matter how many months she’d spent listening to me and sneaking curious touches of her own at night, this was her first time. I was going to take my time. I was going to make sure she never forgot that night.

I slid off her panties slowly, letting them skim down her thighs. When my fingers brushed her ankles, her whole body trembled. I parted her legs gently and I nearly lost my breath when I saw her: pink, shining, perfectly exposed. My mouth watered before I even realized it.

—Fuck —I murmured.

I bent down without further ceremony and kissed her there, slowly at first, then with more hunger. I ran my tongue from bottom to top, stopped at her clit, kissed it as if it were her mouth, nipped it lightly. Her taste was warm and clean, slightly salty, and it stuck to my palate like a secret.

—Oh, oh, oh... —she started repeating, almost voiceless.

Her hands tangled in my hair. Her hips began to move on their own, searching for me, and I followed them. I matched my tongue to her rhythm, pressed harder when she pushed, softened when she held back.

—Please, please... —she said, and I couldn’t tell whether it was a plea or a command anymore.

I slipped one finger inside her. Just one, slowly, feeling how her body closed around it unwillingly and then opened again. I let out a groan against her without meaning to. I started moving it while I sucked her, slow, deep, listening to every sound that escaped her.

—Lara, Lara... —she murmured.

I sped up. I pressed a little harder with my lips, added a second finger when I knew she was ready, and felt her begin to tremble. Her legs went rigid at the sides of my head. One hand grabbed the sheet and the other my hair. She let out a short cry, muffled into the pillow, and came in my mouth with an intensity that even surprised me.

The spasms lasted what felt like hours. When she finally relaxed, I pulled my fingers out slowly, gave her one last soft kiss on her cunt, and climbed back up her body, leaving kisses on her navel, between her breasts, on her jaw. On the way I took off my T-shirt.

—That was... —she started, her forehead sweaty and a loose smile she couldn’t shake still on her face—. It was way better than in my head.

—There’s still more —I told her, and kissed her.

She moaned when she tasted herself in my mouth. I pulled the straps of the nightdress down, took the whole thing off, and finally saw her completely. Her breasts were a little smaller than I’d imagined, with dark nipples, and skin the color of creamy milk, blushing in patches all over her torso.

I bent down and took one nipple into my mouth. I heard her inhale through clenched teeth. I bit it carefully, let it go, blew on it, took it again. With my other hand I kneaded the other breast, playing with the tip between my thumb and forefinger. Her back began to arch.

I lifted her right leg, opening her up, and settled over her at a different angle. I pressed my cunt against hers, slowly, until our sex was skin against skin. When I started moving, we both let out the same moan.

—God... —she whispered.

I began with a slow friction, letting our wetness blend and lubricate the movement. Every time I slid against her, my clit found hers and the little sparks seemed to travel at the same time. I sped up just a little. Mariana closed her eyes, opened them again, rolled them back for a second, and grabbed my breasts with both hands, massaging them clumsily but with an intention that melted me.

—Please, Lara —she panted—. Please, I need to come again.

—Do you want to come against me, baby? —I asked, not stopping my movement—. Do you want your orgasm to mix with mine?

—Yes, yes, please, harder.

I lost control. My hips went wild, and hers started moving too, meeting me halfway. It was perfect. Sweat stuck our hair to our foreheads, the sheets tangled around our legs, and the wet sound of our sex against the silence of the room was the most obscene and the most intimate thing I had ever heard.

—Come with me, Mariana —I told her, looking into her eyes.

She did. She let out a scream she could no longer hold back, and I let myself fall with her. A white light flashed across my head, my thighs trembled, and the orgasm tore through my body from the nape of my neck to the tips of my toes. I collapsed beside her, lungs empty.

It took me a while to catch my breath. Mariana settled against me, rested her head on my chest, and stayed there, listening to my heartbeat find its place again. I ran my fingers through her hair, slowly.

—Tell me we can do this all the time —she murmured, without looking at me.

I laughed softly and kissed the top of her head.

—Oh, baby —I told her—. Don’t worry about that. Your pussy is addictive. You’re not getting rid of this roommate that easily.

I felt her smile against my skin. Outside, the rain kept hammering the windows and I, for the first time in months, no longer had anything to listen for through the wall.