The break-up with my college girlfriend Beth was amicable enough: she began to realize she was attracted to women rather than men, assuring me this was no reflection on me personally. We lost touch for a couple of years and then reconnected on Facebook as one does, and after a while we became pretty good friends (as opposed to just Facebook "friends"). Enough so that when my job transferred me to her city, and I needed to be there a month before the apartment I was renting would be available, she invited me to stay with her and her wife Ronni.
I won't say there wasn't a bit of awkwardness when I got there: we hugged tentatively. I hadn't seen her in ten years, we'd lived together for a year and a half, and her wife was standing next to her. There's no guidebook for that sort of thing.
Ronni was a few years younger than we were, and... perky. And, well, kind of hot in a girl-next-door sort of way. There's definitely no guidebook for dealing with your ex-girlfriend's hot wife.
I shook her hand.
We went back to their house, and I was shown to my room. It was somewhat small, probably designed to be a nursery, but it was certainly enough for my purposes. I changed, and we all got back in the car to go to dinner.
It was a warm, muggy night -- I was going to have to get used to that -- and the girls had changed into sun dresses. Nothing flashy, but I'm sure there were men who envied me walking into the restaurant between two hot women. Little did they know they only had eyes for each other (on the drive over, Ronni had cracked "We're going to be like Three's Company, except you'll be the only one who
isn't
gay!"
Mostly, dinner conversation consisted of Ronni asking about what Beth was like ten years ago. By the time the meal was done, I felt as if the years Beth and I had been apart had melted away, and that Ronni and I were friends: and why not? Beth and I had always gotten along great, and why shouldn't her old and new Significant Others be compatible?
And Ronni had the same quirky sense of humor I'd always loved in Beth.
That night, though, I realized one thing that could result in some discomfort: the girls' room and the guest room shared a wall and, while Beth and Ronni were no doubt trying to be quiet, I was kept awake for a while by the sound of moans. Two really hot woman, one of whom I'd had sex with for over two years.
I wanted so hard to jerk off, I felt as if I would explode. But I wasn't sure
I
could remain quiet about it, and I'd never be able to face them if they heard me.
Not only because that would be embarrassing, but it would tell them I'd been listening to
them
.
Somehow I managed to get to sleep -- on my back -- and my phone's alarm woke me at eight. Normally
I sleep later on Saturdays, but Beth had told me the night before that they had breakfast at eight, and it seemed rude not to get up for it. I decided that living as a house guest would be a bit awkward until I got used to their rhythms.
I dressed and went down to the kitchen. Beth was scrambling eggs at the stove, and Ronni was rummaging through the refrigerator. Both of them were dressed in t-shirts -- Beth's barely coming down to her waist and Ronni's not even -- and panties. Just normal stuff, not Victoria Secret or anything, but I hadn't expected to find them down here in their underwear.
Beth noticed my surprise. "Oh, this isn't a problem, is it? On weekends we usually just roll out of bed and have breakfast before getting dressed. We can--"
Well, maybe a bit of a problem, especially since I'd never taken care of my
listening to sex in the next room and not being able to do anything about it
problem
.
It's a good thing I was wearing jeans that held everything securely in place. "No," I said. "I mean... um... look, I'm a guest here, I don't want you changing your routines because of me, okay?"
"Great," Beth said, going back to what she'd been doing. "Okay, but if anything becomes a problem, you just let us know, okay?"
"Will do, thanks.
A moment later, as Ronni was passing me, she stopped and whispered in my ear "Tell me, when you guys were together, on warm nights, did Beth wear a t-shirt or anything on top?" Before I could respond that she hadn't, Ronni brushed her hand against her own t-shirt and continued, with a wink, "Maybe we
did
change our routine a bit because you're here. Just saying."
Great. Now I couldn't get the thought out of mind: of Beth and Ronni, on any other summer Saturday, coming down to breakfast wearing only their panties. I wondered whether Beth's breasts looked the same as they had ten years earlier. I wondered what Ronni's looked like. I shouldn't be wondering about any of these things for any number of reasons, but it was a bit too late for that.
A couple of hours later we were downtown, shopping for my apartment. We looked at a number of beds, and then Beth and Ronni crawled onto one of them and cuddled together. "How about this one, sir?" Beth said in a very deep voice. "It comes with free installation, two pillows, and a pair of hot women."
I laughed. "Can I get free sheets instead? I'm not sure what I could do with lesbians."
"We're decorative." Ronni said. "That's why we come in a pair."
Maybe thinking about the two of them in bed together wasn't the best idea just now, especially since the way they were positioned, I could see right up the legs of Beth's shorts. True, she'd been pantsless all through breakfast, but seeing her panties like this was somehow more indecent.
These unproductive thoughts were broken up when the salesman showed up, with a disapproving expression on his face, and the girls scampered to their feet. When he said the bed comes with free installation, the three of us went into a fit of hysterical laughter.
When we passed a clothing store in the mall, Beth offered to buy me a pair of shorts. "I have shorts," I said.
"You need short shorts, like we're wearing. So we can stare at your ass the way you've been looking at ours all day."
"I have not," I lied. "Besides, why would you stare anyway? You're still gay, aren't you?"
"Sure, it's not as if we're
interested
," Ronni said, "you'd just be... decorative."
(Just as an aside, I didn't get the shorts; though thinking about it afterward I should have at least tried them on, just to be a good sport)
I made dinner that night, and then we all settled down in the living room to watch some movie on Netflix, me on a surprisingly comfortable reclining chair, and the ladies on a couch, where Ronni stretched out with her head on Beth's lap. Midway through the movie, I looked over and noticed Ronni had dropped her shorts to the floor. She'd been wearing boyfriend panties at breakfast this morning (a bit of irony there), and bikini panties tonight.
Well, there are worse things than living in a house with women who casually hang out in their underwear. Even if they have no interest in your gender.
When the movie ended, Beth and Ronni said they might watch an episode of some series they were binging. I said my goodnights and went upstairs: I really needed a shower (and an opportunity to jerk off, especially after trying to ignore Ronni's little panties for the past hour, though of course I didn't mention that part).
I stopped off at "my" room, grabbed a pair of sleep shorts (not something I normally wore to bed, but I'd picked up half a dozen pair because I was going to be a house guest), then went to the bathroom, stripped down, started the shower going, tossed my clothing into the hamper, and stepped into the shower.
I don't think I'd ever needed to jerk off this badly in my life.
As I soaped myself up I thought about the girls in their underwear this morning, then of what they must have looked like a few minutes earlier, wearing only heir panties. I pictured them the way they were on the bed in the mattress store, just goofing around, but this time wearing almost no clothing.
Oh God...
