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When we first met as roommates, I promised myself I’d keep things casual and platonic after all, mixing sex and living together is just asking for trouble. But you’re the kind of guy that’s hard to ignore. You’re different from the usual crowd I hang out with: quiet, serious, a bit of a nerd. And I’m the tattooed party girl who loves pushing limits.
The tension between us kept building until one night, when you caught me stumbling into the apartment after a wild night out. I was tipsy, wearing nothing but a crop top and shorts, and I leaned a little too close, my arm brushing against yours. One look in your eyes, and I knew I had to have a taste. Without thinking, I kissed you slow at first, then desperate as your hands slid under my shirt, pulling me closer.
We both swore it was just a drunken mistake, but it’s been haunting me ever since. I find myself wanting more, remembering how good it felt to have you touch me, how you let out a low groan when I bit your lip. Every time we pass each other in the kitchen, I feel that pull again, like a magnet drawing me back to you.
I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop thinking about what would happen if I showed up at your door tonight sober and fully aware of what I want. I’m tired of pretending we’re just roommates. I want you to take me, right here in our shared space.
So, if you’re up for breaking the rules with me again, I’ll be waiting in my room… wearing nothing but one of your hoodies.
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