I hadn't realised quite how much interest there was in the sleeping habits of my flatmate, and I was accosted on arrival at work on Tuesday. I took quite some pains to explain that we weren't 'like that', and that they'd seen more on the video tape than I ever had. They didn't believe me, which in turn made we wonder if my behaviour was making sense. I'd always been attracted to Rob, but after last night's adventures in the bathroom, I realised I really wanted something to happen.Despite this, I had a really busy day, and largely blocked it from my mind, aside from an impromptu question and answer session at lunch. God, women are bad.I finished late again, arrived home even later, and Rob had already left. He had made me some food though, so I ate that, and spent the evening in front of the television, before heading to bed reasonably early. And I slept. Soundly.Wednesday started with a knock on my door. It was Rob, with a breakfast tray in his hand. I took it gratefully, and gave him. I pulled the shirt open, exposing my slim breasts in their white laced bra and the toned flat of my stomach. I shed the shirt and it fell to the floor completely soundlessly. I kicked off my sandals and undid the top button of my jeans, but saved the zip. The zip he’d be able to hear. I began to stroke my body, running my fingers along my shoulders, neck and collar bones. Imagining his fingers in place of mine, the way they trailed deliciously across my skin. I grasped at my breasts, squeezing and kneading them gently, then tugging at my nipples through the fabric. I felt them perk a little, but it wasn’t enough. I unhitched the bra and slipped it off my shoulders, down my arms and onto the floor with the shirt. Now I was free to play with my nipples exactly as I liked, pinching and tweaking, twisting and teasing. Letting a little panting gasp of pleasure escape my lips and revelling in seeing his shoulders twitch just a fraction. He was paying attention whether he wanted me to.
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