Right after high school, my friends and I didn't have much direction. I couldn't afford any college courses, and my parents didn't want to help; and neither of my friends were interested in school. We decided to get an apartment together and just chill until we had a plan.

I had met Matt and Jordan separately, and made easy friends with them. It was a great coincidence to find out they were friends already. We bonded over music and being weird; Jordan was a little bit of a redneck, Matt was mostly into heavy metal, and I was fairly goth. Our intersections were strange, but we had fun hanging out.

One evening, Matt went to a concert a few cities away, and Jordan and I had to work. The band was one of our collective favorites, a hard-hitting metal band that just melted our faces off, so Jordan and I were really disappointed when Matt first brought up going. Now it just felt like salt in a wound.

Work was exhausting, and I was getting ready for bed when Matt came home. Jordan was spending the night with other friends, so I felt like I had to muster the energy to at least ask how the show was since I was home. Right as I got to the door, though, I heard another voice - a girl's voice - and figured I'd leave him to it. I happily went to sleep.

I got up to piss at some point, and overheard Matt going at it with his guest, and she sounded wild. Whatever he was doing was working, anyway. I thought about eavesdropping and getting myself off, but just felt too weird about that. I ended up putting some music on to muffle the moaning and grunting, and went back to sleep.

The next morning, I brewed some coffee and put on a stoner movie I'd seen too many times. My morning routine on days off was to let the caffeine hit, then get high while watching one of our few movies. I rolled up a joint for later and sipped my cup. It was a little after 10 before I heard anything from Matt's room, and closer to noon before anyone came out. I was not at all prepared for Lizzy.

She wore a baggy shirt, and I had to do a double-take because I thought she was bottomless. She was wearing tiny shorts, though. Her hair was in tight cornrows up the sides, but her mid-length curls spilled out in a really cool, punk-style look. She was obviously still half-asleep, but looked stunning. And while none of us were racist, I still didn't expect Matt to bring home a black girl at all.

I watched as she opened cabinets, grabbed a mug, and poured herself some coffee. I think my jaw was on the floor the whole time. She came and sat on the couch with me (it was the only seat). After a few sips, she asked what I was watching; and whether there was another joint. We chatted for a bit before I introduced myself, and that's when I found out her name.

She was probably the coolest person I had met up to then, and she had a razor-sharp wit, too. Even when she got high with me, she could talk about movies, bands, and anything else without missing a beat. I didn't even think she was high, except that she said it a few times.

When Matt finally got up, she was all over him; I couldn't help but feel a little jealous when she dragged him back to the bedroom for another loud session. It made sense, though - Matt was in shape and had great hair and a great personality; I was too thin, gangly and awkward.

Months went by where we'd chat while Matt was asleep or out, but I never got the impression we'd ever be more than friends. She was so cool, and I always felt awkward, even though I could hold my own during our talks. She really fit in well with Matt, Jordan, and me.

We were all kind of shocked when Matt was caught going down on Jordan's girl one day. I started hanging out outside while everyone fought in the apartment. It felt like the beginning of the end. Then Matt moved out.

Without a third to keep up the rent, Jordan and I had to work more. We didn't have a lot of coincidental days off, and he was still messed up about everything. It was like we were moons orbiting the planet at different speeds, very rarely occupying the same space. And the couch felt extra empty without Lizzy there.

I thought about her a lot. I'd catch a movie we had talked about, or hear a song we liked, and I'd get mad at Matt all over again. Not only had he hurt two of my friends at once, but he basically cost me both friendships.

I was so surprised when she knocked on the door one day. She asked if she could come in, but I'm such a way that seemed she was scared of the answer. I had never seen her so meek. She asked if Jordan was home, and I explained the work situation. Then she seemed to gather herself before she asked if it was cool if she came by sometimes.

I told her that, as far as I knew, there was no bitter blood between Jordan and her, and that I'd missed chatting with her. We spent that day together until Jordan was back, and then she had the same talk with him. It turned out that we had become her closest friends while she was with Matt; and she really wanted us around, but was worried to come around.

Jordan was the first to think of it, really. I didn't know why it never occurred to me, either. Jordan said that the room was open, as long as she could cover the rent, and just like that, we were whole again.

We were still working long hours when she moved in, and until we could adjust to a third roommate again. We couldn't even celebrate her move properly for a few weeks. By then, the pool had opened up, and we decided to celebrate with drinks and a late-night dip.

I could barely swim, but loved being in the water, so I was the first to get to the pool. Jordan was next, lugging a small Styrofoam cooler with him. When Lizzy showed up, I was smitten instantly all over again. She cautiously asked if we were going to get in trouble, but Jordan and I had done this enough times that we were confident we wouldn't be caught.

I couldn't really contribute to the conversation, though. Lizzy was wearing a baggy white band shirt over a two-piece bathing suit, and I hadn't seen her anywhere close to that since that first morning. Her skin was radiant, and I was staring.

She jumped in and splashed around with us, but she stayed covered up by that band shirt. We drank, splashed each other, and just hung out for a bit before one of the other tenants got too close for our liking and scared us back to the apartment.

Jordan had to work in a few hours, so he went to bed... But I felt like I had electric fire running in my bloodstream. I threw a towel onto the couch, sat on it and rolled myself a joint. Lizzy went and got in the shower, but I hoped she'd smell the weed and join me. I was a wreck of nerves, but tried to play it cool.

She poked her head out and asked if we were still partying. I told her it was up to her. She came out, wearing another baggy shirt and her tiny shorts, but I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra. She wasn't "blessed in the chest," but she was proportionate, and anyway, the sway of unbound breasts was sexy no matter what size they were.

We smoked and joked, and at one point, I was high and drunk enough to tell her that I thought she was the coolest person I'd ever met. She punched me in the shoulder and took my drink. She took a swift and said, "if you're getting sappy, I'm cutting you off."

I slurred a hasty, "I'm not sappy, but you are..." then started listing everything about her I liked. How smart she was, how almost nothing bothered her, how she was the type of cool you only see in movies, how awesome her hairstyle was. Oh, how I'd hate myself when I sobered up, but I was on a roll.

She just sat there and laughed at how drunk and high I was. Then I started listing things like how her dark eyes were hypnotic, how the opalescent sheen that played across her skin in the light made her look magical, how she smelled intoxicating. She patted my arm and said, "drink some water and head to bed. You're drunk, and I'm dead on my feet," then she got up, tossed the empty bottle and went to bed.

I felt so stupid, and stayed up for a little bit to kick myself before succumbing to sleep.

When I got up in the morning, I smelled coffee. I was still young and immortal, so didn't really feel hung over. I threw on clothes and headed out. Jordan was already at work, and Lizzy was smoking a joint and reading a book on the couch.

"Morning, Sunshine," she said without looking up. "Morning, Lizard-breath," I said back. I got my coffee and sat on the couch, hoping she was drunk enough last night not to remember what I said.

She kept rubbing her neck and making quiet pained sounds, but kept reading. I realized that I hadn't heard a page turn in a while, though.

"Do you know anything about giving a neck massage? I think I slept wrong," she said. "Not really," I said awkwardly. "If I sit in front of you, could you rub my neck a little," she asked. "I can try, but I can't promise anything." I shifted so she could get in front of me.

My hands were sweating before I even touched her skin, and after an embarrassing, fumbling start, she grabbed my hand and moved it to where she said she was in the most pain. To my surprise, the muscle felt different under her skin; harder, tighter. I applied a little more pressure and became very focused on the task. After a bit, she was making some very distracting sounds of pleasure before we both decided that I had successfully worked out the knot.

I was red from being turned on, and hoping she wouldn't notice as she returned to her spot. She went back to reading, and I went back to sipping my coffee and dying inside.

"Hey," she said surprisingly softly. "Do you remember talking with me last night?"

It felt like all the blood in my body rushed to my cheeks so fast that it made me dizzy. I think my heart stopped. "Um... Yeah, I do," I admitted.

"Why did you say all that stuff?" Her question sounded more curious than accusatory. I still shrunk away and tried to bury my face.

"It just, sorta, spilled out." I let the awkwardness of the situation prop up the silence. I could feel my pulse throbbing in my neck and at my temples, and I was sure you could melt steel on my face.

I got up and went to my room. I crawled back in bed and pulled the blanket up over my head. I was too embarrassed to cry, to be mad for saying anything, or to really feel anything. It was like I was in stasis.

I heard a tap on the door, but I didn't answer. Then I heard the doorknob turn and the hinges creak slightly as it opened. I didn't hear anything for a few minutes, but I didn't want to move. Then I heard padding across the carpet and felt the weight of her sitting at the end of the bed.

After a couple silent minutes, I felt her shift. Then I felt the cool air as she pulled the blanket, followed by the warmth as she crawled into bed behind me. She wrapped an arm over me and I felt even more shame that she would pity me like this.

"It was really nice," she said, finally. Her hug became a caress as she moved her hand up and down my bird-like chest. "Nobody has ever described me that way."

I didn't say anything. I was still trying to figure out what was happening.

Her smell was invading the air under the blanket. I rolled onto my back, but she didn't move, aside from stroking my chest.

She moved close, and I found myself kissing the softest, most pillowy lips I've ever kissed. They were so sensual, but there was a hunger in that kiss. She was gentle at first, but more forceful as we continued to kiss.

I rolled to face her, pulling the blanket off as I went. I was stroking the skin of her arm, but felt her grab my hand and place it on her breast. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her breast filled my hand and spilled over. I'd never felt a boob before, so didn't know how this one compared, but it felt heavenly. I ventured to the hem of her shirt and caressed up her soft but firm stomach back to her breasts. She made a noise that sounded like a cross between surprise, pleasure, and excitement.

She put a hand to my shoulder and started pushing me. I thought that was her way of saying, "okay; fun's over," but once I pulled my hand back and rolled back onto my back, she straddled me. I became very aware of my own arousal as she pulled off her shirt.

The light of day, even with the blinds down and closed, played across her skin. Her dark nipples contrasted from her chocolate skin in such a beautiful way. I'd only seen boobs in porn, and was limited to only white girls there, but Lizzy's were spectacular... And IRL.

I reached up before she even finished taking her shirt off; this time with both hands. I didn't know how to touch them, but I wanted to only touch these boobs the rest of my life. She tossed her shirt and placed her hands on mine as she ground her shorts against me. I felt like I could cum any minute.

"I've, uh... I've never done this before," I said, weakly.

"Oh, fuck," she said. "You're a virgin?!"

I didn't think I could get any redder. Everything froze. Here I was, being straddled by my crush, her hands pushing my hands into her gorgeous, naked chest.

She smirked down at me as her eyes shifted; hinting that the gearwheels of her mind were changing gears. "Oh, I'm going to have to change that."

She came down off of me to lay next to me while pulling the shorts off of herself and tossing them onto the floor. She grabbed a hand and placed it between her legs. I didn't know what to expect, but I wasn't expecting the warm, wet feeling at my fingertips.

"I think I'm gonna..." And yep. I came in my pants.

She didn't even laugh. "That's okay, just keep going. Please."

The way she said it, if only that "please" at the end, spurred me on. I craned my neck and took a nipple into my mouth, and I felt a hand run through my hair and hold me to her. With the other hand, I pushed into her. There was a point where her breath caught in a whimper and her other hand moved to my wrist.

I moved my finger into and out of her, enjoying the sounds she made and sucking on her nipple. I felt myself growing hard again, if only because of the cool spots where my cum touched my dick. I moved down her body so I could take off my pants and got my first glimpse of her womanhood.

Her pubic hair was short-cropped, and she had these cute, dark lips that protruded from her bush like the wings of a resting butterfly. A trail of wetness could be traced from where my fingers left her.

I moved my face between her legs, kissing along her pubic hair as I removed my pants and tried to discreetly wipe the cum from my penis. She gently pushed my head back, and used three fingers to pull open her sex. She tapped the point where her butterfly lips met and said, "Here. Lick here. And finger me, too."

I did as I was instructed, and she turned up the volume. I thought she was trying to crush my head between her thighs at one point. I was a little worried, because she seemed to stop breathing, but she was convulsing a little.

Then she took a deep breath in and panted out what I thought sounded like, "that was so good." She pulled my hair and pulled me up to her, breathlessly kissing me. I was acutely aware of both the wetness on my face and the proximity of my naked cock to her naked pussy. As she rolled against me, I couldn't help but pull away a bit.

She was grinding against me and pulling me closer to her and I was vacillating between the instinct to fuck her and the concern of getting her pregnant. At some point, though, the decision was made for me when I felt the warmth and wetness meet the tip of my penis.

She pulled away from kissing me, and gave me a look of unbridled hunger. She wrapped her legs around me and I slid into her. I couldn't stop my hips from moving as I asked, "shouldn't we use a condom?" She smiled in this way that was half smirk and all sex and asked if I even had one. I admitted that I didn't, still lightly thrusting into her.

"It's okay, I'm on birth control," she said. That was too much. I didn't last long after that before I was cumming again, this time right into her. I buried my head between her breasts and profusely apologized. She just held me and laughed, sending pulses of tightness along my shrinking, spent dick. "It's ok... The first time is never what you expect. We'll have plenty of time to practice."

The end?