My Roommate’s Big Problem

When she rushed out of our apartment giggling and left him unsatisfied I knew I had to do something.

My roommate is a good guy who’s had a string of bad luck. Every woman he brings home leaves his bedroom and leaves him hanging. None of them say why, but I can put together the pieces and I know what he needs.

So I become her. I become a woman who can charm and disarm him. I let him take me to his bed and I do it to give him the confidence he’ll really need.

But I was so wrong about everything and I can see it now. They’re not leaving because he’s too small to satisfy. They’re leaving because he’s too much to take.

The man is big with big appetites and I’m the woman who is supposed to satisfy him. He doesn’t know who I really am and I can’t begin to tell him. I can’t let him know that this is way more than I signed up for.

But maybe not more than I can take, because I know what my body wants. I know my body thrills when I think about taking in every last inch of him. I know the question that’s burning in my belly.

Am I woman enough to satisfy him?

Excerpt

Aftershock after aftershock rocking over me. Leaving me gasping, leaving me senseless. Making my world defined by the light and the heat and the overwhelming satisfaction, a sensation and a thought tinted and altered and supplanted by only one other need.

I need to pay back the favor.

I’d nearly forgotten my purpose here in the wake of his ministrations. I’d given myself to him and I’d let myself received but I was here for a reason. I was here for him.

So that meant I couldn’t let him go unsatisfied. I couldn’t forget that I was here to provide a needed boost of confidence for him.

And in that moment I recognized his little problem and I didn’t see any problem with it at all. After all when his finger had been inside of me it had pressed me to my limits and while his hands were big his fingers were smaller than my own cock. So if he was smaller than that, well it just might be welcome after all. It might just be a good thing.

When I felt that burst of energy, of purpose, and I rushed forward to meet him I was driven. I reached for him, a broad grin spreading across my face as my words spilled forward with honesty.

“I want to make you feel good now.”

And he protested, as he would have considering his little problem. His eyes went wide as my hands slipped down to the space between our bodies and my fingers twitched as I reached for his belt, for his zipper, for his pants. An inch away from my destination and his little problem I heard him speak.

“Wait.”

But I didn’t wait. I slipped down and did what I should have done regardless of his size. What I’d intended to do all along. I slid my hand palm up over the place his bulge would be and when I did I realized how wrong I’d been.

My hands might be small, but touch still didn’t lie. A furrow in my brow. A moment of pause. A freeze in my hands and then a reach for more and finding more and more and more and more than I could imagine. And it took so long for my brain to catch up with my senses and for me to forget my assumptions and realize that I’d read the whole situation entirely wrong.

Dan didn’t have a little problem, in fact he had the opposite. He had a problem alright. He had a really big problem.

I didn’t really know how to react. All of my efforts had been focused on a single purpose only to find that I had completely misjudged the situation. Now that I was faced with it, well I understood why it was a problem. I understood why those women left him so unsatisfied.

Because Dan was big. He was big enough to be intimidating. He was big enough to be downright terrifying.

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