When I first moved in with Natalie, I didn’t expect my life to unravel in the way it did. She was the kind of girl who filled a room—tall, brunette, with wild energy and a laugh that made you want to chase after it. I found our place on Craigslist. I was fresh out of grad school, broke, and desperate, and she needed a roommate who could cover half the rent in a two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. On paper, it was purely practical. The reality: I had no idea what I was signing up for.
The first couple of weeks passed uneventfully. We’d cross paths in the kitchen, me making coffee, her heating up leftovers, the usual awkward small talk layered over pop music coming from her phone. But when I’d catch a glimpse of her leaning against the counter in a hoodie and nothing but underwear, something inside me started to stir. I tried to tell myself it was nothing—she was just confident with her body, and I didn’t want to make things weird.
After all, I wasn’t looking for anything. I dated here and there, but never saw myself as particularly enticing. Natalie, on the other hand—she had options. I’d hear her getting ready for a date, humming along to a playlist, makeup bag spread out. She’d prance back into the living room afterward, heels in hand, cheeks flushed and hair tossed, while I fought not to stare.
One Thursday night, she found me curled up on the couch with a beer and Netflix. “Long week?” she asked, flopping beside me. There was the faintest brush of her thigh against mine—bare skin. She wore an oversized t-shirt with a faded logo, nothing else. I told myself not to look, but in the blue glow of the TV, I couldn’t help it.
“Wanna join?” I said, trying to play it cool, offering her the other half of my blanket.
She grinned, pulling her legs up beside me. “I always forget you’re a cuddler,” she teased, nudging closer. Something shifted in her tone, a teasing edge I hadn’t noticed before.
I sipped my beer a little too quickly. “Only with the right company.”
We sat like that for half the movie, and I started to relax. Her bare legs pressed against mine, and I tried not to think about how my sweatpants didn’t do much to hide what was happening beneath. At one point, she laid her head on my shoulder. I froze.
She didn’t move. Didn’t say anything else. Her hand slid absently along my forearm, her nails dragging lightly. The air shifted. I felt myself react, tried to fight it, but my heart spun. Was she flirting, or was this just Natalie being Natalie? My mind buzzed with a hundred anxious thoughts.
I excused myself to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face, my body a mess of adrenaline and confusion.
—
Things seemed normal the next day. We made coffee side by side, kept the conversation light—if anything, Natalie seemed even more relaxed. But something had changed for me. I couldn’t get the feeling of her hand on my arm, her body pressed close, out of my head. It started to drive me insane. At work, I kept replaying it, wondering if I’d imagined the whole thing.
That Friday, Natalie came home late, crashing into the apartment while I was half-asleep on the couch. I heard the door slam, keys drop, shoes tossed. She wandered toward the kitchen for a glass of water, then leaned against the island in the dark.
There was something different in her eyes—tired, but a little wild. “Did you wait up?” she teased quietly.
I shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep anyway.”
She padded over and sank down beside me again, curling her legs underneath herself. The silence felt thick. She glanced at me, and I swear she saw right through me.
“Hey, Ian. Can I ask you something?” she whispered.
“Sure.”
She hesitated, toying with the edge of her sleeve. “Have you… ever thought about us? Like, more than roommates?”
My stomach dropped. The words felt dangerous, a cliff over which everything might change. She didn’t look away. I couldn’t lie; she would see through me.
“Yeah,” I said after a minute, voice barely above a whisper. “I have.”
She smiled, shy for the first time since I’d met her. “Me too.”
She scooted closer, our knees touching. I could feel the heat of her skin, every inch humming. She leaned in, just a breath away. For a split second, I panicked—was this okay? Would we ruin everything? Did she really want me, or was this just another Natalie impulse?
She touched my jaw, gentle but certain. “You overthink everything,” she murmured.
“Sorry,” I breathed.
She kissed me, slow and searching, and I gave in. Her lips were soft and her tongue snuck past mine, hungry and hot. I couldn’t help but gasp. The tension of weeks snapped all at once, desire crashing over me. We kissed like we were starving. I slid my hands beneath her t-shirt, feeling her bare waist, the curve of her ass. Her body pressed against mine—warm, insistent.
Natalie tugged at my waistband, fingers slipping under the elastic to graze my skin. I caught her wrist, hesitating for a heartbeat, searching her eyes.
“This is okay?” I asked, voice rough.
She nodded, hair falling around her face. “God, yes.”
Clothes vanished in hurried bursts. She laughed, breathless and beautiful, as she straddled my lap, her thighs hugging my hips. She gripped my hair, kissing my neck, grinding against me until I groaned. I gripped her hips, guiding her closer, lost in her scent, the heat of her skin, her needy sounds.
“I want you,” she whispered, biting my earlobe.
I pulled her to me, our bodies moving in a clumsy, desperate rhythm—messy kisses, hands exploring, my cock aching, her pussy slick and hot as she rocked herself against me. She moaned into my mouth, her voice vibrating through my chest.
She sank down onto me, slow at first, gasping as she took me in. Her eyes locked on mine. We moved together, rocking hard and deep on the sofa, the city lights pouring through the window. I gripped her ass tight, feeling her body tense and shudder as she rode me, her nails raking down my back.
Natalie threw her head back, hair wild, breasts bouncing as she fucked herself on my cock. She choked out my name, low and feral, and I lost my mind. I thrust up into her, meeting her every grind, the heat and slickness of her gripping me. She came first, clenching around me, trembling and cursing, her legs shaking with pleasure. I followed, buried deep inside her, emptying myself with a groan.
Afterwards, she collapsed against me, heart hammering against my chest. We were a tangle of sweat and limbs and laughter. Neither of us said a word for a long time.
Later, in the hush between breaths, she whispered, “I think we just broke the roommate code.”
I only smiled and pulled her closer, hoping we’d never have to go back.