We never sat down and discussed house rules--not even when we first moved in together. Our friendship had blossomed so naturally, an unlikely trio of clerks, selling used books out of a tiny shop in the South End. It began with deep conversations about whatever books we were currently obsessed with. Then the conversations turned to life; sometimes love, sometimes sex, sometimes silly, occasionally raunchy. We started socializing outside of work, always hunting for free fun, and cheap drinks. Getting an apartment together after graduation had been Ellie's idea. She being the most extroverted of the three of us, we tended to follow her lead. Men and women (who weren't romantically attached) living together was more common than you might think among people in their early twenties. Perpetually broke, right out of college, cohabitation (and often the sharing of a single, tiny bathroom) was more a financial decision than anything else.
When our relationship became a ménage à trois, we didn't discuss any house rules either. As usual, Isabella and I looked to Ellie for our cues, although there were subtle and not-so-subtle changes in each of our behaviors that revealed themselves gradually. Isabella, for her part, started hanging around braless and in nothing but an oversized T-shirt and panties, her preferred state of dress. Ellie, who had never been terribly concerned about shutting the bathroom door completely anyway, now peed with the door wide open, something that Isabella and I quickly adopted ourselves. Bedroom doors became perpetually open as well, and all three of us were much more likely to enter any room stark naked, if that's the state we happened to be in. I, for one, stopped inviting women over. I think I found the idea of sleeping with someone else greedy, in some way, given the two incredibly attractive young women with whom I was having sex almost daily. I don't think any of us would have minded if someone brought home a potential partner--we were having a very sex positive summer, after all--but no one did at first, seemingly by one in a series of many unspoken agreements.
I was sitting in Ellie's bedroom. She was reclining on her bed, completely nude and reading a Stephen King novel. I was sitting in her rolling chair, also naked, looking at the posters above the desk. Liz Phair. 'Fuck for Peace'. A tacked up bumper sticker from some West Coast Environmental Organization with the rather cheeky slogan 'Save water...pee in the shower.' I could tell Ellie had had that one for a while. Perhaps her propensity for giving and receiving Golden Showers went back further than she'd ever let on. Ellie was incredibly open about sex, even when we were just casual friends in the early bookstore days. But now I wondered if her habitual peeing with the bathroom door cracked (or sometimes open) was, all along, subtle telegraphing. The first time we'd all had sex together was after Ellie had peed outside in front of us. An act for which her motivation, at the time, was unclear. But, given how much it had aroused all of us, maybe her intentional had been to open the proverbial floodgates.
Isabella strode into the room, back from her morning workout, sweaty in her gym clothes. She looked at the two of us and laughed. "Isn't this where I left you two?"
Ellie fanned the book open on her chest, covering her nipples. "The next Dark Tower book comes out in two weeks...I'm doing a reread," she said languidly. She stretched her arms above her head and arched her back, like a cat. The book fell lazily onto her comforter. Isabella, black hair tied back in a sensible pony tail, was removing her sports bra. No doubt it was constricting considering her breasts, far more than a handful, could barely be contained by a D-cup. No wonder she preferred to walk around unencumbered.
"I gotta go pee," she said. By now all three of us knew that this was a potential invitation for some daytime fun. Before this summer, Isabella had not been in the habit of announcing her bathroom visits. Ellie perked right up. I did too, though less visibly for the time being.
"Let's play a game," said Ellie, coquettishly.
Isabella gave her a knowing smile. "Oh yeah? Which one?"
"Target practice," Ellie said as she raised herself up to her elbows and swung her legs off the bed.
"Target practice," Isabella said, considering. Her naked, brown torso was shiny with sweat, it had the effect of making her glow in the late morning sunlight. "I don't think I'm familiar with..."
Ellie stood up. "I've been practicing peeing standing up. In the shower--less mess that way, but I think I'm ready to try it for real."
