And Your Little Dog, Too
It made no sense to be jealous of Sue. Betsy was just suffering from basic, everyday insecurity, and her housemate was just…an easy target for them. Low-hanging fruit, so to speak.
Not that anything about Sue was low-hanging.
The young woman had one of the firmest, fittest bodies that Betsy had ever seen. Her breasts almost seemed to defy gravity—Betsy had seen her housemate walk around without a bra on countless occasions, and her breasts had never showed even the slightest hint of sagging.
And her ass…empires could have been built upon that ass, and Betsy swore it would never have budged.
But Sue’s body wasn’t why Betsy was jealous. It was her boyfriend, Dan.
He and Sue seemed to have some kind of…special relationship. Nothing sexual, of course—Betsy knew that Dan would never, ever cheat on her. The idea simply wouldn’t occur to him.
No, that wasn’t the issue.
It was the way they…flirted. Well, flirted wasn’t quite the word for it. Flirting suggests intent, a deliberate action or attitude. It was the sexual tension.
A strange sexual tension seemed to crackle between Betsy’s boyfriend and her housemate. Dan would get home from work, and if Sue was around, the room would be filled with an energy.
They’d never even done anything wrong. Betsy had never seen so much as a suggestive glance between them. She had no reason to be suspicious, nothing concrete to be annoyed about.
But here she was, jealous of her housemate.
The sexual tension wasn’t the only reason, of course. Sue just seemed to have a blessed life. She was independently wealthy, and so she never had to go to work—Dan and Betsy, meanwhile, were struggling just to cover their monthly rent. Sue was always happy, and everyone loved her—she had a natural charm, which seduced even the grumpiest of folk.
Betsy probably would have loved her as well…if she hadn’t hated her so much.
Her hatred even extended to Sue’s little dog, too. Atwood. Every time she entered or exited a room, there it was, staring at her.
God she hated that dog.
Sometimes she’d be masturbating (something she found herself doing more and more recently) and she’d look up to find Atwood sitting there, looking at her.
As if to teach the mutt who was boss, Betsy wouldn’t stop. She’d just lay there, rubbing herself, staring into the dog’s big brown eyes.
“I hate you,” she’d hiss as she came, again and again. Her most powerful orgasms were always when she was angrily glaring at it.
Sue probably never even needed to masturbate. She probably had a stream of buff guys, ready to pleasure her at a moment’s notice.
Betsy was lucky to even get so much as a kiss from her boyfriend.
Not that it his fault, of course—he was busy at work. As well as that, for extra cash, Sue had offered him some part-time work. Betsy wasn’t sure of the details, but Dan was out a lot, leaving Betsy bored, missing him, trapped in the house with Sue…and Atwood.
To make matters worse, Sue was kind. Supportive. Empathetic. When Betsy and her boyfriend weren’t able to cover their share of an electricity bill, she picked it up without question. She even offered to cover them in the future—in exchange, all she was for them to help her take care of Atwood—feeding him, taking him for walks.
Help. Not even do it all themselves. That’s how fucking kind she was.
And with Dan out of the house so frequently, Betsy found the responsibility falling on her shoulders. Walking the dumb dog, cleaning out its bowl.
She didn’t even like pets.
Betsy’s life seemed to just rotated between four states: sleeping, working, taking care of the dog, and getting off while staring into Atwood’s eyes and silently cursing him. The only times she saw her boyfriend was when they were asleep in bed, or hanging out with their housemate. She felt like she was constantly on edge—taking care of Atwood stressed her out, her sleep was regularly disrupted by her boyfriend getting in and out of bed, her performance at work was on a steady decline, and even masturbation wasn’t providing her with the release she so desperately needed.
Things came to a head during one of Sue’s poker nights. She’d begged her boyfriend not to play—he lost money as often as he won, and she wanted his rare night off to be spent with her, as a couple.
“I have to,” Dan had told her gently. “Sue’s our housemate; it would be rude not to. Plus, she’s sort of my boss. You know I can’t say no.”
Betsy reluctantly agreed.
She sat on the couch glumly as the house filled with strangers. Sue’s friends—she’d never really gotten to know them.
It wasn’t long before the house stank of cigarettes. Since she didn’t play poker, she’d somehow ended up in the role of impromptu waitress—bringing the players beer, cleaning up their empties. She used her time in the smoke-filled kitchen to keep an eye on the game. Dan, to her relief, seemed to be doing pretty well.
As the night continued, players dropped out and went home. Soon, it was just Dan and Sue…and Sue was winning.
“Call it now,” Betsy begged.
“Can’t,” her boyfriend replied shortly, shaking his head. “It’s winner takes all.”
“It’s okay,” Sue smiled. “We can stop whenever you like.”
Bitch, Betsy thought, completely unfairly. For some reason, her housemate’s words egged the young wife on.
“Keep playing,” she said, placing her hand firmly on her boyfriend’s shoulder. “Win.”
Without knowing Poker, the next hour didn’t make a lot of sense to Betsy. At one point, her boyfriend was extremely happy to have a lot of fives. A little later, he seemed happy to have no fives at all.
The game continued, Dan and Sue removing clothes as they played. It wasn’t long before Sue was completely naked—Betsy had thought her body looked good within clothes. Without them, she was simply flawless. Her breasts sat high and proud, her nipples pointed forward. She’d occasionally get up to go around the table and look at Dan’s cards; each time she got up, Betsy found herself unable to remove her eyes from the younger woman’s ass. Her pussy was perfectly shaved, and her skin didn’t have so much as a blemish.
Betsy was relieved to see that Dan didn’t give Sue’s naked body so much as a glance. The sexual charge that normally filled the room when they were together was somehow gone, replaced with the intense focus that poker brought.
Standing beside her boyfriend, Betsy reached down to give his penis a supportive tug. It was hard as a rock, and she was tempted to crawl under the table and blow him. Partially for luck, but mostly because it had been so long since she’d tasted her boyfriend’s cock.
God she missed the taste
In the end, Betsy decided not to distract him. The stakes were too high. Instead, she sat beside him, and fondled his balls as he played.
“Three threes,” Sue beamed.
“Two twos,” Dan replied. The two of them could have been reciting Latin for all Betsy understood, but her boyfriend’s tone told her all she needed to know.
Sue reached out and raked the night’s winnings to her side of the table. Betsy felt completely deflated.
Great. How could this night possibly get any worse?
“Honey,” Dan said, a waver in his voice. “I…”
“I have some bad news.”
Betsy narrowed her eyes. As Sue counted the money she’d won that night, she clued into what had happened.
“Our rent. I swear, I thought the next card was going to be a five.”
Betsy’s voice went up a full octave in pitch as she processed what her boyfriend had said. Not only had he played—and lost—but the stakes had inexplicably been ten times higher than normal.
They were already swimming in debt. They’d borrowed money from anyone who would lend it to them. What were they meant to do now??
“That was your rent?”
Sue’s voice was always so high, so sickly-sweet. It made Betsy’s skin crawl.
“Dan, honey, I had no idea. I never would have let you…—“
“I wanted to,” Dan said firmly, cutting the much younger woman off. “I wanted to play.”
“I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Betsy said flatly. She was still struggling to deal with the reality of the situation.
There was a long pause. The seconds turned into minutes as Betsy tried to calculate their possibilities. She’d already gotten an advance on her paycheque—twice. Her parents were even more broke than she was, AND she’d borrowed several thousand dollars from them in the last few months. Their landlord wasn’t the kind to offer an extension.
They were screwed.
She was just about to close her eyes and let a single, silent tear fall out of her eye…when the silence was broken by Sue’s lilting voice.
“Well…” she said, a kind smile on her face. “If you wanted, I could cover your rent.”
“You’d do that?” Dan asked, hope in his eyes. Betsy wanted to tear them out with a claw-hammer.
“Of course,” Sue smoldered. “I mean, you two are my best friends. I’d hate to have to find new housemates.”
“Thank you so much,” Dan said. “That’s amazing. Seriously, Sue—it means so much to us!”
Betsy’s eyes narrowed. The sing-song voice was back.
“What?” she spat.
“I mean, I’d need some more help taking care of Atwood.”
“Help? We’re already helping.”
“No,” Sue said, her big blue eyes turning to Betsy. “I mean you’d need to…take care of Atwood.”
It took a moment for the innuendo to sink in. Betsy’s eyes widened.
“He gets so lonely,” she explained. “There’s no other dogs around here, and…he has needs.”
“You want me to…”
“Yes,” Sue replied, staring straight into Betsy’s eyes.
Betsy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She turned to her boyfriend.
“Dan, you can’t…”
Her boyfriend was staring at Sue, a familiar look in his eyes. Betsy’s heart sank. She knew that she’d find no help here.
“Sue,” she said, turning back to her housemate. “Please. You can’t really expect me to…”
She trailed off, not even able to say it out loud.
The young woman just smiled at her. A kind, gentle smile.
The kind, gentle smile of a woman who was making her housemate have sex with her dog.
With a sigh, Betsy nodded.
“Fine,” she repeated. “I’ll do it.”
“Great!” Sue said, clapping her hands with joy. “Oh, Atwood will be so excited.”
Sue bustled out of the room to get her dog, and Betsy turned to her boyfriend.
“Honey, you can’t seriously be okay with this…”
Dan shrugged, and reached up to stroke his goatee.
“It’s really quite a generous offer, if you think about it.”
“I’m just saying—Sue would be well within her rights to boot us out. She does own the place, after all. But this way, we all get to keep living together. You, me, Sue. Atwood. Do you know what the rental market is like these days? ”
Betsy didn’t. They’d all been living in the same house for as long as she could remember.
“You’re right,” she reluctantly admitted. “It could be a lot worse.”
“Exactly,” Dan beamed. “Chin up. I love you, honey.”
“I love you too,” Betsy sighed.
“Sit,” Sue instructed, and the dog sat in front of Betsy, staring up at her expectantly.
“Good luck,” Sue said, grabbing Dan’s hand and pulling him out of the room. “We’re going to bed.”
Betsy’s shoulders slumped, and she turned to Atwood.
It seemed this was her life now.