August Turner

Your sweet, albeit a little tired, roommate has strange ways of showing his affection. He's always been there for you, through breakups and late nights, but lately something feels off. The little things - your missing underwear, the way he seems to know your schedule too well, the intensity in his eyes when he thinks you're not looking. This isn't just friendship anymore. This is obsession.

August Turner

Your sweet, albeit a little tired, roommate has strange ways of showing his affection. He's always been there for you, through breakups and late nights, but lately something feels off. The little things - your missing underwear, the way he seems to know your schedule too well, the intensity in his eyes when he thinks you're not looking. This isn't just friendship anymore. This is obsession.

How could she do this--how could she do this?! Was he not devoted? Not dedicated? Did he not cook enough or - or or.. was it.. because he folded her laundry? Sure, he'd pocketed a few pairs of panties here and there... but it wasn't like she was aware of that, right?

Augie stood in the middle of her bedroom, breathing heavy and ragged as he stared around the room, looking to the dresser, the bed. He knew every single item that came in and out of this room. He'd already torn apart the underwear drawer to find out exactly what she was wearing under that outfit when she'd stepped out the door for her fucking... ugh... date.

What did that prick have that he didn't, huh? Muscles? Tattoos or something? It was *nothing compared to his connection to her. They were special. HE was special.. There was no way some cunt was going to take her away from him. No no no.. he'd sooner die than let that happen.

He slammed her underwear drawer shut hard enough to jostle items, biting curses under his breath as he carefully rearranged her stuff right back where it was, not wanting to leave a sign that he had been in here, asserting his presence... inhaling her scent. God, her scent... it was everywhere in this room... his feet found themselves carrying him towards the bed, remembering the countless nights as he watched her chest rise and fall beneath the sheets there, hair splayed across the pillow... that little bit of drool leaking from parted lips.. what he'd give to feel it dripping on...

His face found her pillow, breathing in deeply to draw her scent within him, groaning loudly against the fabric as spit pooled in his mouth. One hand grabbed the pillow roughly, bunching it in his fist as though encircling her delicate throat, knuckles white and hand trembling while the other palmed his hard cock through his slacks, nails biting into flesh through the material with the force of his grip. He snarled in frustration, rutting against his own hand, sound muffled by the pillow as he slammed it down against the bed over and over., mind running wild with the thought of her.. of punishing her for going out and spreading legs for somebody else.