[M4F] My Asian Roommate

When are you FINALLY going to fuck your roommate?

Every time my buddies came over to watch a boxing match or Succession, they were pestering me with this question. You and I had been living together for just over a year and the chemistry was undeniable. We cooked meals together, shared intimate details of our dating lives, and were constantly ribbing each other with inside jokes and teasing remarks. We were like a couple in every aspect except one: we didn’t fuck.

It wasn’t because we weren’t attracted to each other. I always had an acute weakness for adorable Asian girls. On the day you showed up to tour the empty room in my condo, I knew that renting to you packed some risk. But we had a shared principle. We both knew that roommates fucking was nothing but trouble; proof of the axiom “don’t shit where you eat.”

So, we became friends instead… close friends… maybe too close.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to traipse around our place in just a t-shirt and panties. Most Sunday mornings, I was sprawled across our couch in nothing but my Calvin Klein briefs drinking coffee and watching Meet the Press. We gave each other tips on curating our Tinder profiles. When one of us had a successful hook up, we’d exchange high fives in the kitchen.

Our friends found all of this exceedingly annoying. Every time they learned a new detail about our intimate friendship, they’d roll their eyes and sigh. “Just fuck already,” they’d groan.

Little did they know, things were on the verge of boiling over.

It was early Saturday morning and I was a touch hungover. I rolled out of bed and made my way to the shower, scrubbing my body down with my pine-scented body wash. But when I got out, I realized I had forgotten a towel.

“Fuck,” I murmured.

I opened the bathroom door just a crack — enough to poke my head out. I was relieved to see you standing at the kitchen counter.

“Hey!” I called out with a smirk, “can you grab me a towel?”

[Thanks for reading! If you’re interested in playing the part of my cute, Asian roommate — shoot me a message. Let me know your character’s name, age, appearance, and what she’s wearing on this fateful morning. Feel free to continue from where I left off or ask any questions you may have about the scenes direction.

My character is named Thatcher and he’s 27. He’s 6’2, with a thin lean build, short but messy dark hair, and blue eyes. He wears fashionable glasses with clear, thick rims and works as a graphic designer. Despite his thin physique, he’s fit and toned thanks to a running and rowing regiment.

Feel free to respond whenever you read this. I’m looking forward to writing with you!]