My Roommate Thought I Was Sleeping

Renata and I had shared a small apartment near the university for almost two years. The trust between us was the kind that doesn’t need permission: we walked into each other’s rooms without knocking, lent each other clothes, slept in the same bed when one of us had a bad night. There had never been anything strange about it. That’s why what happened that afternoon still seems unbelievable to me, even now as I write it.

I got home exhausted from university. I had had two exams back to back and the only thing I wanted was to collapse and sleep until the next day. I opened my bedroom door and found her curled up on my blanket, breathing slowly. I didn’t think anything of it. I took off my jeans and blouse, stayed in my underwear, and slid in beside her, trying not to wake her.

I fell asleep almost instantly. I don’t know how long passed before a sound pulled me out of sleep. A sigh. Then another, longer one, deeper.

Is she dreaming?, I thought at first, still with my eyes half-closed.

But it wasn’t a dream. Renata was no longer beside me in bed. She had gotten down onto the floor, onto the rug, and from where I was, my cheek pressed to the pillow, I could see her perfectly silhouetted against the window.

She had her hand inside her panties and was stroking herself very slowly, with a softness that took my breath away. I froze, not knowing what to do. The sensible thing would have been to clear my throat, pretend I was waking up then, give her the chance to stop. I did none of that.

I just kept watching her.

I felt my own body respond almost without permission. A warm pulse between my legs, heat rising slowly. I closed my eyes a little so she would think I was still asleep, but left them half-open, just enough not to miss anything.

It was strange to see her like that. I knew her in a thousand different ways: studying with her hair tied up and a pencil between her teeth, laughing her head off on the sofa, crying over some boy who didn’t deserve her. But I had never seen her like this, completely surrendered, with no audience, believing she was alone. There was something deeply intimate about witnessing what she didn’t even know she was showing.

I noticed every detail as if I would have to remember it for the rest of my life. The way she bit her lip. Her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. The way her free hand moved up to squeeze one breast over her T-shirt. And worst of all: how beautiful she was in that abandonment, much more than in any of the thousand other versions of her I knew.

Her movements grew more intense. She spread her legs wider and wider, her hips lifting to meet her own hand, and the sighs escaped between her clenched teeth, as if she were trying to hold them back so as not to wake me. At one point she pushed the fabric aside and I saw everything, completely shaved, shining, the swollen clit between her wet lips.

I had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t moan too.

I wanted to touch myself. I needed it with an urgency I had never felt before. But if I moved my hand, if the bed creaked, she would realize I was spying on her and it would all be over. And I didn’t want it to be over. I wanted to see her go all the way.

My underwear was so soaked it clung to my skin. I felt every beat down there, thick, insistent. I pressed my thighs together seeking some relief, making no noise, holding my breath every time she sighed.

Then Renata stopped dead.

She sat up, came over to the bed, and before I could react, gave me a soft kiss at the corner of my lips. I didn’t move. I kept my eyes closed, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I was sure she could hear it. She drew back slowly.

It’s over, I thought, with both relief and a disappointment I hadn’t expected to feel.

But it wasn’t over.

I heard her open the drawer of her nightstand, which she had brought into my room who knows when. When I opened my eyes halfway again, she had a dildo in her hand and was slipping a condom over it with a calm that seemed obscene and fascinating at the same time.

***

She got back down on the floor, this time on her knees, pressing her chest to the rug and lifting her hips. From where I was I could see her arched back, the curve of her ass in the air, and how she began to insert the toy into herself very slowly, centimeter by centimeter.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The tension had my whole body raw, every muscle tight, my skin burning. Without thinking, I shifted in bed to see better and my knee hit the headboard. The sound was tiny, but in that silence it rang out like a gunshot.

Renata jumped to her feet, still with one hand between her legs.

—Cami —she said, her voice hoarse—. Did you see everything?

I couldn’t speak. I nodded, my cheeks burning.

She laughed softly, without a trace of shame. She came to the edge of the bed and sat beside me.

—And are you wetter from watching me? —she asked.

She didn’t give me time to answer. Her hand slid over my underwear and pressed exactly where I had been wanting someone to touch me for so long. I let out a moan I had been holding back for too long. It was like uncorking something.

—You’re soaked —she murmured against my ear—. Do you want me to help you?

Her breath brushed my neck and my whole body prickled. I had spent two years sleeping a wall away from this woman and never, not once, imagined her voice could sound like that, so low and so sure. I turned my head to look at her. Her eyes were shining, and she had a half-smile I had never seen on her before.

I said nothing. I only opened my legs. That was all the answer she needed.

She pulled my thong aside and lowered her head. When her tongue touched me for the first time, I arched my back against the mattress. I had been on the edge for so long that the first contact nearly made me come. She noticed and deliberately went slow, licking without hurry, stretching out every stroke, while I caressed my breasts over my bra and felt my nipples harden under my own fingers.

—Don’t stop —I begged in a whisper—. Please, don’t stop.

But she did stop, only to look at me with a smile.

—Get on your knees on the sofa —she told me, pointing to the little armchair under the window.

I obeyed without thinking. I pressed my breasts against the backrest and opened my legs for her.

—I’m going to eat you up whole —she said behind me, and her voice ran down my spine like a current.

I felt her hands spread my ass cheeks and her tongue begin to work its way over me from bottom to top, not skipping a single spot. I hid my face against the backrest to muffle my moans, but it didn’t do any good: they escaped anyway, louder and louder. It had never even crossed my mind that something like this could happen between us, and yet there we were, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

Then I noticed something different. The dildo that a little while earlier had been inside her was now beginning to make its way into me, slowly, while her fingers kept working my clit in slow circles. The combination left me breathless. I gripped the sofa back with both hands and pushed my hips back, asking for more without words.

—That’s it, Cami —she said—. Look at you, all this time living a meter away from me.

***

When I thought I couldn’t hold on any longer, she stopped and made me turn around.

—Sit down and open your legs —she ordered me, and there was something in the way she said it that turned me on even more.

I did it. Renata climbed on top of me, tangling one of her legs with mine until we were pressed together, her sex against mine. She began to move slowly, rubbing herself, and the friction was so intense that we both let out a moan at the same time. We looked into each other’s eyes for the first time all afternoon, and that, more than anything else, was what finished melting me.

We moved faster and faster, searching for each other, holding each other’s gaze, our moans mixing in the air of the room. I dug my nails into her hip, she held me by the nape of the neck. The heat between our bodies was unbearable and delicious at the same time.

—I’m not going to last —I panted.

—Neither am I —she answered—. Finish me off.

And we did it together, trembling against each other, both of us clinging on as if we were about to fall. I felt the orgasm sweep through me, long and deep, while she shuddered on top of me, repeating my name.

We stayed like that for a good while, catching our breath, her forehead resting against mine. Neither of us said anything. There was no need.

—I’d been wanting to do this for months —she finally confessed, almost in a whisper—. Today I thought you were asleep. I thought it would be my only chance.

I smiled at her and moved a damp strand of hair off her face.

—Well, good thing I woke up —I told her.

That afternoon changed everything between us. We kept sharing the apartment, kept walking into each other’s rooms without knocking. Only, from then on, we almost never slept in separate beds.