Penny

I hear a key in the lock and the door swings open. Slowly the guitar case enters first and then Clay’s tousled, dark hair as he carefully, quietly looks inside. His head swivels from side to side, from the still-untouched kitchen table to me on the couch with my heels tucked under my thighs. His eyes open wider.

“Hey…” He starts carefully, his voice lowered. “Sorry to interrupt your date. We got done early and I can still catch Mike downstairs…”

“Don’t bother,” I sigh.

He enters the rest of the way, almost funny as he carefully tiptoes into the middle of the room.

“So… I don’t get it? Is the date still in progress or…?”

“We broke up,” I blurt out, startling myself.

Instantly the corners of my mouth tug down and my hand flies up to cover my chin.

“Oh! Don’t cry!” he barks out as he dives toward the couch.

Before I know it, his arms are draped over my shoulders, gathering me in a heartfelt but somewhat scrawny embrace. Still, it feels pretty nice.

“I’m not crying!” I insist as I sniffle. “I don’t even know what I was thinking! He was a jerk!”

“A total jerk,” Clay repeats as he pats my hair. “Who names their kid Brian anyway?”

“It was Ryan.”

“Even worse,” he mumbles consolingly.

I wish I could say this is the first time that I have sniffled into Clay’s sweaty shoulder in my life. But since we have been best friends since registration day, it’s definitely been at least four or five times. I’ve given him a shoulder to cry on too, just for the record. It’s even.

“What did the bastard do this time?” Clay asks gently when I’ve stopped sniffling and slumped into a slightly more relaxed position.

“Do?” I repeat stupidly. “I guess… Nothing?”

Clay shifts backward and removes the bottle of wine from my hands where I forgot I had been holding it. I can see the tattered edge of the label. I must have been picking at that thing for kind of a while.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks as he stands and walks to the kitchen, then unfolds the corkscrew and begins to open the bottle. The popping sound of the cork is music to my ears and he pours us a couple of glasses and comes back to the sofa before I start.

“Oh, this wine is terrible!” I whimper as I sip it. It’s sweet and sour at the same time. Kind of smells like feet.

“It’ll get better. Just keep drinking,” he advises me.

Obediently, I force myself to take a gulp. Thankfully it is pretty strong and I think it is numbing the inside of my mouth.

“So, do I need to kick his ass? I mean, do I need to have Mike go and kick his ass?”

“No…” I sigh in defeat. “He’s just a jerk. Not a jerk who deserves an ass-kicking. Perhaps in a universal karma way he does. But not for his actions today.”

“Good to know,” Clay smirks.

I smile up at him, taking a deep breath. It’s amazing how different I feel now that he’s here. Just twenty minutes ago, I felt absolutely desolate. Now, it almost seems funny.

“First, he was two hours late for dinner.”

“No way!” Clay scoffs. “This was your big date! What a jerk!”

“I know, right? I worked on this!”

“You did! I can tell! Because you are terrible cook.”

The image of the charcoal-briquette skis that are currently hidden away in the oven flashes through my mind, but I decide not to tell him about that right now.

“Actually? I think I have potential. Dinner was completely edible. In fact, are you hungry?”

His eyebrows go up. His blue eyes glitter.

“Am I hungry? Is that seriously a question?”

“Okay, okay,” I sigh as I heave myself off the couch. “I should not let this go to waste. This is my entire food budget for the rest of the month.”

“Oh, come on, Penny,” he scolds me gently. “You didn’t really, did you?”

I just shrug as I turn on the hot tap water, shaking the pasta underneath it to try to warm it up. He doesn’t really need me to admit it, and I don’t really need to say it out loud again.

“So… I guess he just forgot,” I say into the sink.

Clay brings over a couple of plates and sets them gently on the counter next to me. After a couple of minutes I can untangle some decent-sized portions of spaghetti noodles and wrangle them onto the plates. They slide around wetly as I spoon sauce over them.

“I don’t know if we should eat this,” I mumble uncertainly as I squint at the cold sauce and slightly-less-cold pasta.

“Oh, we are definitely eating this,” Clay asserts as he takes the plates from me and deposits them on the table. “Looks really delicious! I didn’t even realize you could cook like this!”

I want to giggle as he makes a big show of stabbing his fork right into the middle of the pile of rubbery pasta and twisting out a mouthful out of it. He stuffs it into his face and grins happily.

“Seriously delicious!” he mumbles over a mouthful of food. “Have some! I insist!”

Relieved, I sit across from him and manage to get a couple of noodles into my mouth. Once I adjust to the strange temperature, the texture isn’t terrible. The sauce is good, anyway. Those guys at Prego really know what they are doing.

“That jerk doesn’t realize what he’s missing!” Clay continues as he eats with gusto.

He was right, too, the wine isn’t as terrible as I thought it was. It’s really the perfect complement to icy, gluey pasta.

“And he was stoned!” I blurt out. “I mean, not like I care, but isn’t that rude? Like he stood me up and then I couldn’t even yell at him because he was too high to understand anything I was even saying.”

“That is unbelievable!” Clay scoffs. “Is that why he was late?”

“Who even knows? Maybe? But then he just said he was leaving, and ‘we knew it was coming.’ Just like that!”

Clay pauses in mid-chew. “Wait… Is that how you broke up? He just left?”

I shrug. It seems silly to admit that I didn’t even throw a fit or anything. I feel like such a wimp. I just let him walk on out the door like some shitty R&B song.

He sets his fork down gently on his plate and reaches his hand across the table to cover mine around my wine glass.

“Penny, you deserve a million times better. I can find Mike and ask him to—”

I laugh, not wanting to draw my fingers away.

“I already told you! I don’t want to put a hit out on him or anything!”

“Because I absolutely would! I absolutely would get Mike to do it!”

“I believe you!” I giggle, catching his fingers between my fingers.

“Nobody should ever make you feel that way,” he says, suddenly serious.

His lips twist slightly to the side, a pout that I’ve seen him reserve for puppies and basketball finals.

“I’m fine, Clay,” I assure him, squeezing his fingers between mine. “I really am.”

He squeezes my fingers back.

“You really are,” he smiles sheepishly. “You’re definitely the prettiest girl in this apartment.”

“Oh, why, thank you!” I smile, flipping my hair back flirtatiously.

He flips his hair back over his shoulder too, mimicking me.

“Irresistible!” he exclaims. “A beauty for the ages! And I know this, because I have an art history final coming up on Wednesday, and I have been studying.”

“Oh, you have?” I smile, taking my wine glass up with my other hand so that I don’t have to stop touching his fingers. “You have a final on beauty ages?”

He leans forward conspiratorially. His fingers tug against mine and his thumb brushes against the tip of my index finger, tracing a circle.

“Standard of beauty, baby,” he murmurs. “You’re it. Couple thousand years of Venuses? Aphrodites?”

“Aren’t they the same thing?” I chuckle.

“Whatever. They don’t hold a candle to you, Penny.”

I laugh, pulling my hand back and rolling my eyes.

“Okay, okay… You’ve made me feel better, Clay. Mission accomplished.”

He reaches forward and snatches my fingers back again, pulling me to standing.

“You’re not a mission, Penny,” he smiles as he strokes my hair behind my ear. “You never were. I mean it. I mean every word.”

As he leans in, I automatically stand up on my tiptoes. It’s just a natural reaction, not even something that I meant to do on purpose. He leans down toward me and I lean up toward him and suddenly we are kissing.

Like, really kissing. To my surprise, he tastes delicious. He tastes like something I’m hungry for, and my whole body reacts. I sway forward, letting him catch me against his frame, pushing up closer to him. He holds me under my elbows, lifting me slightly as his lips slip over mine, wet and wine-flavored.

Something comes over me, some reckless inclination. I wrap my arms over his shoulders and lock my fingers behind his neck, pushing my tongue into his mouth, tasting his strangely familiar flavor. Like I have always known what his kisses would be like, even though we have never kissed.

His hands wander all over my body, stroking me from my shoulders down to my ass cheeks, as though he’s trying to read me in braille. My nipples harden against his chest, pressing urgently as I try to feel him all at once. I am a live wire, looking for a circuit.

Taking his hand, I start walking backward toward my room. His eyebrows go up.

“Are you sure?” he asks me gently, his lower lip still glistening with the moisture from our kiss.

“Absolutely, positively sure,” I smile.

As though he had been waiting for permission, Clay suddenly changes. He dips his chin and stares at me intently before striding forward to take me in his arms again. His mouth covers mine as his fingers slide underneath my dress, starting at the knee, gliding over my thighs, and lingering at the lace fringe of my panties.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he moans into my mouth, pulling my lower lip between his teeth as he maneuvers me back toward the bed.

I don’t have to do anything, just relax and follow his guidance as he gently pushes me down, leaving my lower half almost hanging off the side. I quickly realize why when he kneels suddenly, hooking my legs over his shoulders so that he can bury his face between my legs.

I can barely catch my breath as his hot, slippery tongue spears the border between my panties and thigh. I’m sopping wet, swollen and pulsing with desire for him.

“Yes, Penny,” he groans, the vibration of his low voice echoing through my pussy.

My breath hitches when he slips a finger inside me, smoothly sliding it in and out as his tongue runs circles around my clit. Every move he makes is perfect for me, sending sparks of pleasure ricocheting off my borders.

I’m helpless to do anything but ride it out. I’m totally at his mercy. He plays me like an instrument that he knows so well.

Working together, his mouth and his fingers unlock some secret combination of my body, sending me subtly over the edge of a cliff, spiraling in midair, weightless and dizzy. I hear my voice in the room, and feel everything go blinding white.

Waves crash through me, almost overwhelmingly then gradually subsiding. After a little while I realize that Clay is climbing into bed next to me, a satisfied smile on his face, his eyes keen in the dim light.

He settles in close, sliding my dress the rest of the way off as my body continues to throb under his fingers. I catch his eye, curious to see if it’s still just the same man I’ve always known. My roommate? Can this really be him?

“Is everything okay in there?” he smirks, taking my hand and guiding it to his thick, throbbing manhood. I can feel the wetness at the tip and run my thumb over it, pleased to see how he shivers in response.

“That was… Amazing,” I breathe. “Right? Wasn’t it?”

“You were expecting something else?” he whispers, quickly rolling out a condom then closing his large hands over mine, guiding me to stroke him from tip to the base, over and over again.

I wasn’t expecting this, I admit to myself, but I don’t say it out loud.

He is thick and veiny, and I can feel how velvety his skin is. I want to turn the lights on, but he’s already angling the tip between us, pulling my leg over his hip, guiding that thick head toward my entrance.

“You feel so good,” he moans as he presses against me, urging my legs open wider.

His hands slip over my hips, positioning me like a steering wheel, holding me steady as he enters me in one long, slow, unstoppable motion. I hold my breath, letting him fill me completely.

With my arms over his shoulders, we move together in unison, rocking perfectly on my narrow bed. We break into a sweat, holding each other close until he pulls back suddenly to stare into my eyes before his expression changes. I feel his cock lurch inside me. I hold him tight between my thighs, never wanting to let go, startled and amazed by what we have just found.