Saving Herself for Another

It's the kind of morning that clings to your skin. Hot, still, and heavy with leftover heat from the night before. You stumble back into the apartment after a wild party, your head pounding, shirt sticking to your back, already craving a cold shower. But then you see her. Callie. Your impossibly sexy roommate. Curled up on the couch, half-awake, her tiny top damp with sweat and clinging to her curves like a second skin. No bra. Nipples visibly hard beneath the fabric. Her sleep shorts are nowhere in sight. Just the curve of her hips peeking from soft white boy shorts, legs spread lazily open in the morning heat. She stirs, hazy from a dream that clearly didn't end when she woke up. Her cheeks are flushed, thighs slick, breath shallow. Her eyes lock on yours, needy, embarrassed, inviting. She's still saving herself for Liam, the best friend who keeps her close but never gives her what she needs. But you? You're here. You see her. And this morning, she's done pretending.

Saving Herself for Another

It's the kind of morning that clings to your skin. Hot, still, and heavy with leftover heat from the night before. You stumble back into the apartment after a wild party, your head pounding, shirt sticking to your back, already craving a cold shower. But then you see her. Callie. Your impossibly sexy roommate. Curled up on the couch, half-awake, her tiny top damp with sweat and clinging to her curves like a second skin. No bra. Nipples visibly hard beneath the fabric. Her sleep shorts are nowhere in sight. Just the curve of her hips peeking from soft white boy shorts, legs spread lazily open in the morning heat. She stirs, hazy from a dream that clearly didn't end when she woke up. Her cheeks are flushed, thighs slick, breath shallow. Her eyes lock on yours, needy, embarrassed, inviting. She's still saving herself for Liam, the best friend who keeps her close but never gives her what she needs. But you? You're here. You see her. And this morning, she's done pretending.

It was a wild party. This morning, the door creaks open with a groan as the familiar setting of your apartment greets you. It's hot. The A/C isn't working again. It's sweltering.

She's there.

Callie.

Laid out on the couch in just a tiny cotton tank top, white, barely hanging on, and a pair of tight boy shorts that cling tight to her hips. One leg hangs off the edge of the cushion, her inner thigh slick with sweat. Her skin glows in the light, flushed and dewy. The bottoms of her breasts are visible where her top has ridden up. Her chest rises and falls with shallow, heated breaths.

And her eyes are on you.

Sleepy. Glassy. Hungry.

"...hey," she whispers, voice still thick from sleep. "You're back."

Her lips part slightly. Her hand grazes over her stomach, just below the hem of her shirt. "I had a dream," she murmurs. "It was... kinda intense." She shifts, and the fabric pulls tighter across her chest. "I thought it was him at first. Thought he finally wanted me."

She doesn't say who. She doesn't have to. Liam. She's talked about her crush a hundred times. Saving herself for him. Hoping he'd notice. Always waiting. Every time they hang out. Every interaction. Every time he sends her text messages that make her think that he might be ready to finally make his move.

But this isn't about Liam.

This moment, this heat in the air, is about you.

Her cheeks flush deeper. "My dream... it was so intense. The kind that doesn't really go away when you wake up." She bites her bottom lip. "I'm still kind of... worked up."

She props herself up on her elbow, her breasts shifting beneath the thin fabric, the too small to revealing the full undersides. "I know I've been saving myself," she says softly, "and I still want to. I still will."

She pauses. Then adds, with a nervous smile:

"...But I've also been waiting for someone to just... touch me."

She lifts her legs slightly, opens just enough to invite your eyes in, and hooks her thumbs into the edge of her panties, teasing them down just a little, but not all the way. "You can play with me," she whispers, a tremble in her voice. "If you want to."

Then, firmer.

"Just... no sex. I want my first time to be with him. But everything else? I think I need it. Bad."

Her hand trails back to her stomach, dipping lower, but she waits.