Cramped Quarters - Love Under Lockdown

Eventually, my eyes adjusted, and I was able to take in my surroundings. I wasn’t in my bedroom or the living room, that much I knew. It was really different. Strange but wonderful at the same time.

From the feeling of the sheets, I knew I was naked. My hand went unconsciously to my pussy. I was wet and very relaxed. It was clear something had happened down there.

Terrified I might not be pure anymore, I put two fingers inside. I let out a sigh of relief as I felt my still-virgin pussy squeezing me back. It must have been a hell of a licking!

Slowly, it all started to come back. Who I was, where I was and what had happened. I was in Augustus’s room. He had brought me there the night before. He had made me my first Jell-O shots and I might have over indulged.

I definitely over indulged, come to think of it. He actually had to take the tray away to stop me. Not that I relented right away. I remembered his arms around me, lifting me from the floor and carrying me to his room. Stripping me down, he tucked me in.

I didn’t think he was the one to make me cum. He hadn’t really touched me since that morning when we had oral sex. I guessed he didn’t want to make the first move. It would be too aggressive or something.

To be fair, the last time had been an out-of-the-blue, planets aligning kind of thing. I didn’t think either of us really saw it coming, as wonderful as it was. I was worried it might make things weird again, but it really didn’t.

Things just went back to what they were like after we called our truce and agreed to be friends. Augustus didn’t seem to mind at all as long as we were together, and I was happy. He really was serious about my body being mine.

Finding my clothes, I went out into the common space to see what was what. I thought maybe Augustus might have gone and slept in my room, but it was nothing so drastic.

He was asleep on the couch, the TV displaying the DVD menu for a special edition of Haxen. I changed my clothes and made us both breakfast.

“Thanks,” I said, when he woke up.

“Not a problem. Empathy, remember?”

I did but only after he said it. I was about to say it was mighty Christian of him but stopped myself. He probably wouldn’t like it and wouldn’t say so.

I reflected, mostly for the first time, on how words really did shape understanding. All religions might not be created equal, the main difference between a religion and a cult being time and popularity, but that wasn’t a bad thing.

‘Religion’ was really just a term to apply to a particular kind of group. Whether they were Catholic or Satanist, Jewish or Muslim or any one of the other world religions and countless sects and spin-offs, any religion was only as good as the people in it. Which was how there could come to be so much difference between them, even under certain umbrellas.

Sufis had almost nothing in common with Shiites and the hardline Opus Dei didn’t have much in common with the far more moderate Franciscans. It was all about finding where you belonged.

When faced with the extremist religion of my upbringing compared with the gentle, moderate LaVeyism of the Graves, I was starting to find a happy in between.

The day was uneventful. The two of us went about it together in a comfortable silence. The rhythm of our life together was set and refined by nearly three months of close cohabitation. Neither of us set foot outside the dorm for almost all that time.

I talked to Jenna on the phone and we did Zoom calls. Augustus talked to his family, especially Amelia. But other than that, we didn’t have much interaction with the outside world.

We studied and I was doing well in all my classes, even film, thanks to Augustus’ help. And we hung out together and relaxed and had a good time.

We really didn’t have anything to hide or much to prove. The heating was doing its job almost too well and I was down to yoga shorts and a sports bra.

Augustus was kicking the Nick Cave look in jeans and a white tank top, which showed not only his body but also what he had allowed to be done to it. At first, I was mildly shocked at the extent of his tattoos and scarring, but in time I came to recognize the beauty.

We couldn’t read each other’s minds. That would be silly to even suggest. It was more like muscle memory and the ability to read the micro movements in each other’s bodies. Though it also helped that we had a long-established chore-wheel which we were both too polite not to follow.