Female Housemate Wanted

by Pan

I never really understood why we decided to take Phillip as a housemate. After Elle said she was moving out, Marie and I agreed that we wanted to live with another girl—just for little stuff—so that we could walk around in our underwear without having to worry about someone perving on us, that kind of thing. I've never lived with a guy before, but I can tell you from experience—living with girls is easy. Why mess with a good thing?

Phillip worked with Elle at the video store. When he found out that we were looking for someone, he rocked up at the interviews. He was cool about it—we told him that we were looking for another girl, and he said that was fine. We didn't have another interview for half an hour, so we just hung out for the rest of the time, talking about movies. (he's really into film)

The rest of the interviews went well, and we'd pretty much decided on this girl called Abby. Elle came home the next day with this movie that we'd been talking about—Primer. You can't find it anywhere, but Phillip had a copy, so the three of us sat down and watched it.

It's the most confusing film I've ever seen, but that's sort of meant to be the appeal of it. You watch it and you've got no idea what's happening, not until you go online and read up about what actually happened. I think I get it now, but it's complex as hell, I'll tell you that.

Anyway, the next morning, Marie and I were chatting about how nice it was for Phillip to lend us his personal copy of the film, and we agreed to give him a try as a housemate. Sorry, Abby! He just seemed like a cool guy, and we both wanted him—we actually came to tell each other at the exact same time, believe it or not.

Elle let him know, and he moved in about a week later.

I should tell you a bit about us, I guess. Marie and I have known each other since high school—we were never ‘best friends’ or anything like that, but when we discovered we were both moving to the same city, we decided to stick together. We've gotten a lot closer over the last two years, living together. Elle was a friend of Marie's cousin or something like that—she's fun. A bit on the heavy side, but that's fine—having her around made me feel thin!

My name's Trish—I'm twenty years old, and I moved to Brisbane to study architecture. I'm a bigger girl—not overweight or anything like that, just curvy. Marie is, like, the exact opposite of me in every way—she's five foot, thin as a rake, and more full of energy than anyone I’ve ever met. I'll come home, maybe have a beer and watch some TV; she comes home and bounces around the apartment cleaning, then goes for an hour-long bike ride. Yeah. Every day.

We get along pretty well, so on the day that Phillip moved in, I started to get a bit worried about him changing up the house dynamic. It's always like that with a new housemate, though, and as he was moving in, he joked that there was no need to change anything. He said that we could still walk around in our underwear if we liked. (I guess Elle must have mentioned that was a concern, haha.)

Coolest thing about Phillip moving in is his massive TV. It's fifty inches—it's almost too big for the room! He doesn't have many DVDs, just a hard drive that he's connected to the back. He said that we were welcome to use it whenever we wanted—he's got literally every single movie you could want on it. He showed me like 1% of the list, and I already made a mental note of stuff I wanted to check out. It's crazy. I think he borrows DVDs from work and then copies them onto the hard drive. A little bit naughty, but hey—you won’t hear any complaints from me!

The first night he got there, he insisted that we all sit down and watch a film together. It was nice! He let us choose, so I picked 27 Dresses—it’s been on my list for years.

(Huge disappointment.)

The next night, he was at school—he's studying film on the other side of town, so he leaves early and gets home late, if at all—so me and Marie sat down to watch a film. Normally she's too full of energy to sit down and concentrate on a flick, but I guess she enjoyed it enough last night to settle down and do it again. I could get used to this!

It pretty quickly became part of the routine. Me and Marie would get home from work, have some food, and then watch a film together each night. We alternated who got to choose, which on the one hand, meant that I had to sit through some real crap, but I also got to see some great stuff that I would never have watched otherwise. We barely saw Phillip at all—maybe for a few hours on the weekend. We figured he must have a girlfriend whose place he stayed at or something like that—I kept forgetting to ask him.

He brought this big chair with him—he called it his ‘throne.’ Marie and I laughed, but he didn't really join in, which was a bit weird. It's comfortable as hell, and for the first few movie nights, I sat in it (cos he was out), but after a while, it just felt wrong. I didn't want to sit on Phillip's throne. Phillip's throne should be empty.

I dunno, I guess it was just a politeness thing. He was letting us watch his massive TV, after all. So after that, we just left it, and just sat on the couch.

It must have been two weeks after he moved in that Marie and I just spontaneously had this chat—we'd wanted a female housemate so that we could walk around in our underwear. I mean, we never really did, but we didn't want to give up that freedom by getting a man in.

Phillip, though… he was cool. He'd said that he didn't mind, and besides—he was never home. So one day, in the kitchen, Marie and I were making breakfast and chatting about stuff when I brought it up. She agreed, and so to really cement the idea, we both stripped off then and there and made the rest of our breakfast just in bra and panties.

Like I said, it wasn't really something that we normally did, so this was actually the first time that I'd seen Marie in her knickers. Or maybe I'd seen her before, but never really noticed. Like I said, he's super thin, but not in a gross way (like when you see models in their underpants)—just slender. It was interesting.

No boobs, but she had the ass to make up for it. Normally, I’d be super self-conscious, especially in front of someone as slim as Marie, but on that first day, I just felt super comfortable in my body. It just felt… right.

The differences between Marie and myself were interesting from an aesthetic point of view. We were both really attractive and sexy in our own ways. The fullness of my bust compared to her athletic chest, my curves compared to her flat stomach… we both had great asses, but even they were completely different. Mine was generous and matched really well with the rest of my body, whereas hers was hot because it contrasted so beautifully with the rest of her body.

We stood there for ages, just staring at each other, and when I finally made my way up to her face—which was also gorgeous, I should add—I could tell by the expression on her face that she was thinking the same as me. She just appreciated my body like I appreciated hers. We were just appreciating the female form. Appreciating the contrast between the two of us.

It was really beautiful.

We stood there and stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds, when suddenly I noticed that Phillip was in the kitchen as well, smiling and staring at us. I jumped, startled, and it was weird—it was like it took Marie a few seconds to notice him, but when she did, she jumped in shock as well.

Phillip got this weird, embarrassed… almost annoyed… look on his face and left the room. Marie and I looked at each other, and when she laughed, it really broke the tension. Suddenly, I was laughing as well, at what Phillip must have thought, finding us staring at each other like that.

We talked briefly about getting dressed again, but it never ended up happening. I just felt so comfortable in front of Marie that there was really no need for it. And the fact that I lived in a house where I could wear nothing but underpants if I wanted just really made me feel free—free and sexy.

That night, during the film (Shutter Island, with Leo—not something I would normally have watched, but I'm glad I did) I kept glancing over at Phillip's throne. It seemed… I dunno, empty, somehow. I mean, it's normally empty, but I'm just not normally so aware of it. But it was definitely empty. There was no one there. Phillip's throne was empty.

After that, it became pretty standard for me and Marie to hang out around the house in our underwear. It was never quite like that first time, but I continued to appreciate her body, and I know that she appreciated mine. If Phillip was around, we'd generally put on a T-shirt or something, just for modesty's sake, but he was hardly ever there, so we didn't bother very often.

We kept watching a movie every night—aside from Phillip's throne, there was just the couch, and Marie would sit up at one end with me at the other. The weeks went on, and it started to get colder, and it just felt a little ridiculous, that the two of us were sitting so far away from each other when we could have been sharing body warmth. The thought popped into my head while we were watching How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days (dreadful) and for the next few nights, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

I was just about to suggest that we snuggle up for the film… just for the warmth, of course, when Marie got to it first. It's almost weird how often we think the same thing—I guess that's just what happens when you live with someone for so long.

That first night, we were cuddled up together and watching a horror film. I can’t even remember which one, but I remember every time Marie jumped, I’d just hold onto her a little bit tighter. It was really nice—her tiny body fit into mine so comfortably, and I really enjoyed the feeling of her skin on my skin. It was so smooth and so warm.

So if you came into our house, most nights that's how you'd find us. Sitting there, mostly naked, cuddled up tightly, watching a film. Not, of course, that anyone would come in. We were alone in the room. There was no one else in the room while we watched films.

Everything was nice and comfortable, super normal… until one night when I had this dream about Marie. I don't know what it was—it wasn't even a particularly sexual dream, it was just… nice. It was almost embarrassingly sappy, to be honest: I dreamt that we were sitting on the couch, cuddled up, watching a romantic comedy, and after the film ended, I leaned in and gave her a kiss.

That's it. Like I said, not even super sexual. If I remember correctly, after the dream, we even went to our separate beds, but it was just like we were a couple. It didn't turn me on; I didn’t wake up all sweaty and wet; it was just a simple moment in a dream.

But somehow, it changed everything.

The next day, when I got up and saw Marie in the kitchen, I checked her out as normal (she even did a little spin so I could properly appreciate the sexy panties she was wearing), but for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about her in a sexual light.

Like, Marie has these lovely full, plump lips. She has for as long as I've known them—the girl never needs lipstick. And the second I saw them, I remembered the dream—I remembered kissing her and wondered what it would be like to feel those lips against mine.

Obviously, I didn’t want to be thinking about my housemate like that, so I tore my eyes away from her lips and checked out her boobs instead. I don't know if you've noticed this, but girls with smaller breasts have almost constantly hard nipples. I don't know why it is, but it's something that I've noticed before. So Marie's nipples were hard—nothing weird about that, right?

But immediately, my brain was like, "That means she's turned on," which got me thinking about whether she liked having her nipples sucked on (like I do… I go crazy for it. Ask any of my ex-boyfriends!) and what they would feel like in my mouth. Then I started imagining touching them while I made out with her and…

Well, I tried to distract myself by checking out her legs. But my eyes were just automatically drawn to between her legs, and I noticed just the tiniest, smallest amount of… wetness.

Yeah.

My mind went into overdrive. Was she turned on? Did I turn her on? Was it because I was checking her out? Maybe she was attracted to me! Perhaps she'd just been waiting for me to make a move, and that was why she liked hanging out in her underpants; maybe that was why she liked me hanging out in my underpants; what if that was even why she suggested cuddling…

For like a second, I went nuts. I don't know where Marie was looking. Still, I feel like no matter what part of me she was looking at, my thought process would have been obvious: my knees went weak, my eyes practically boggled out of my head, and, embarrassingly, my nipples got hard, and my pussy got a little bit wet.

I squeaked an "Excuse me!" and fled the room.

Back in my bedroom, I was breathing super heavily. For a second, I thought I saw my bedroom door open and wondered if Marie had followed me, but there was no one there. Phillip wasn't there. Phillip wasn't in my room.

My brain was buzzing, I had all these thoughts, and I had just embarrassed myself in front of my best friend. No, worse than that—I'd just been turned on by my best friend.

I don't think I've mentioned this before, but I am not a lesbian. I've never even been curious about it. I like boys—I've always liked boys, and you know what? I like liking boys. It's simple. I mean, yay, gay rights, but if I meet someone I like, I can hold hands with them in public, no questions asked.

Marie's the same way—straight as an arrow, always has been. There's even a running joke about the fact that she goes through boys faster than most people go through toilet paper. So why had I suddenly started imagining that she was into me? And why had the thought turned me on?

It was the dream. That's all it was, I told myself. I had a weird half-sex dream, and when I woke up, I was still sort of in that state.

That was it. That was all it was. Just the dream.

I told myself that for the next ten minutes, breathing deeply the whole time. At one point, I thought I heard a disappointed sigh, but perhaps I was just projecting—perhaps a small part of me wanted to… but no, that's not a thought process I wanted to go down.

Finally, I left the room and tried to act as normal as possible. Marie didn't bring it up, and neither did I. We just ate our breakfasts and gave each other a long hug, as per usual, before getting dressed and leaving for the day.

That night, we sat down to watch a movie. As always, I sat down first, and Marie sat between my legs, resting her beautiful head on my chest. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Phillip's throne had been rotated to face the couch, but as the movie started, I realized what a stupid thought that was. Phillip's throne has always faced the couch. Phillip’s throne is empty. There is no one sitting there.

I'd hoped that by acting normally, the feelings would go away, but all day long I hadn't been able to stop thinking about Marie—her perfect little body, how much I liked the touch of her skin against mine, how much I enjoyed the underwear she wore around the house, how much I looked forward to our hug each morning, when I could run my hands up and down her body, feeling every inch of her exposed skin…

And so feeling so much of her body against mine was paramount to torture. I couldn't do anything—I was trying to act as normally as possible, after all—so we just sat there silently while the movie played.

I honestly couldn't tell you what movie we watched. All I was aware of, the entire film, was Marie. Marie's breathing, her leg casually draped upon my leg, her ass snuggled in between my legs, her cheek resting on my arm, which was wrapped around her, holding her…

Though it was most likely my imagination, I wanted it so desperately to be true—as the movie went on, although it wasn't a horror film, I felt as though Marie's rate of breathing was increasing. It was like she was as excited to be held by me as I was to hold her, and I wanted nothing more than to run my hands up and down her body, to stroke her white skin, and see if she'd tremble or shiver or cry out in pleasure… or push me away.

Of course, I didn't do any of that. I just sat and stared at the screen, as George Clooney and whoever he was with got up to adventures—none of it sunk into my brain. Even as my eyes stared at the screen, my mind was with Marie.

When the film ended, we each went to our own rooms, and I did two things that I'm embarrassed about. First, I masturbated, and then I cried.

---

The next morning, I dragged my feet as I got out of bed. I'd had a series of increasingly erotic dreams; weirdly enough, none of them were specifically about Marie, but she was there for each of them. I was with men—strangers, at first, and then ex-boyfriends. I lay there, motionless, as they fucked me, one after another. Like a starfish, I just lay there as the men took me, one at a time—I didn't get any pleasure out of it, but there was no pain, either.

Standing next to the bed was Marie—too far away to touch, but close enough that I could see her beautiful green eyes. I just lay there, making eye contact with her as the men came in me, one after another. After the strangers and the exes, a stream of men from my life came and had their turn—boys from high school, men from my course, even Phillip. I stared at Marie, and then I noticed that she wasn't just watching, she was playing with herself. She thought I was sexy.

That was all I needed—suddenly, I wasn’t just having sex with men; I was putting on a show for Marie. I got more and more turned on by the men fucking me—I still didn't move, just lay there completely still, but as each man filled me up and let the next take his place, I got more and more turned on. I felt like I was about to cum, when suddenly there weren’t any men left. The line had dried up… and so instead, I started having sex with women.

The cum of the dozens of men disappeared, and instead, I was being eaten out by girls I’d never seen before or women I’d seen at the bus stop. I've never been with a woman, so I don't really know what it would be like, but in the dream, it was amazing… but incredibly frustrating. For some reason, I just couldn't cum—no matter how talented the women were, they'd eat me out, finger me, play with my nipples—I'd just lie there, so close to an orgasm, but unable to get there.

Instead of strangers, it started being women that I knew—lecturers, other students, girls I'd worked with… but regardless of who they were or what they did, I couldn't cum, despite being more turned on than I'd ever been before.

Finally, the line ended, and Marie stood up. She pulled her fingers from her cunt, and I could see how wet and sticky they were. She was wearing a dress, so I couldn't see her pussy, but I knew that she wasn't wearing panties.

She stood up and started walking toward me. I knew that the second her fingers touched my pussy, I'd finally be able to cum. I wanted it so much, but just as she reached forward…

I woke up.

Looking at the clock, I didn't have time for the masturbation session I would have ideally liked, so I reluctantly got up, and went into the kitchen.

As usual, Marie did a little spin for me, and I sat up on the kitchen bench and pulled a pose so she could check me out. Unusually, she gave me a wink once she had, and it wasn't until we'd finished breakfast and I'd gone back into my room to get dressed that I realized why she'd winked:

My panties were completely soaked.

The sexy dream… I'd been so aroused that even wetting myself would have left my panties less drenched. I couldn't believe it—I'd never done anything so embarrassing in my life. These dreams were getting to me.

And Marie had winked.

Another glance at the clock and I realized that I had no time to think about what that meant—I put my clothes on and raced for the bus.

I spent the rest of the day thinking about what Marie's wink meant, and by the time I got home, I'd convinced myself that it just meant she didn't care. If she'd wanted to make a move, she could have made a move… but of course, she didn’t want to; that would be crazy. Marie is straight.

As am I.

That night, as we sat down to watch another of Phillip's endless collection of movies, I was determined not to do anything out of the ordinary. We were going to sit and watch a film; when the film was done, we'd go to our separate beds, and I'd have a nice, normal sleep with no erotic dreams.

I sat down, Marie settled in for a cuddle, and then completely ruined my ability to pay attention to the film.

Again, it wasn't anything significant—I’m sure she didn't even know what she was doing. You know how some people can't help but doodle? You give them a piece of paper and a pen, and without even noticing, they'll pick up the pen and start drawing random shapes while you talk. Well, this was just like that.

Marie spent the whole film running her hand up and down my leg. Not even in a sexual way—I've seen people do it to dogs or cats. Just stroking, up and down, running her perfectly manicured fingernail from my ankle to my knee and back again, over and over.

It almost drove me mad. (In a good way.)

At one point, I was so turned on that I really thought that the smell and heat of my pussy were going to fill the room. I don't know why I found the innocent action so sexy, but I did—it got to the point where I coughed loudly and readjusted, hoping that she'd stop… and equally hoping she'd keep on going.

And she did stop. For a few seconds. And then, when she started again, it wasn't my calf that she was stroking. The readjustment had moved her slightly, and now the target of her doodling was my thigh.

She drew lines, loops, and little circles, all with her fingernail or sometimes the tip of her finger. Each time, she got closer and closer to my panty-line… I'd started trimming my pubic hair, ever since our lingerie shows had become a daily occurrence, but if I hadn't, I swear she'd have been close enough to touch my fuzz.

At one point, my eyes rolled back in pleasure. I still hadn't had a chance to get myself off after my incredibly erotic dream that morning. Now it was like it was being mirrored in reality—it felt like I was so frustratingly close to cumming, and each time Marie's finger came closer to touching my pussy, I was reminded of that feeling from last night, that as soon as she touched me, I'd be able to cum…

An explosion on the screen made me open my eyes again and watch the film. It was important that I watch the film. My mind, however, was elsewhere: I swear every inch of my skin was covered in goosebumps, and I was super sensitive to my gorgeous young housemate’s touch.

Finally, the opening credits appeared. Marie got up and turned the light on, and a cheeky grin appeared on her face when she turned back to face me. I must have been a sight—laying on the couch, spread-eagled, my eyes fixated on the TV, wearing nothing but a bra and a pair of incredibly soaked panties.

Her smile snapped me out of it, and I forced myself to get up.

I crossed the room to her and, without thinking, leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.

Our eyes were wide open as we stood there, frozen, mouths touching, just staring at each other. Neither of us moved, both of us acutely aware of the softness of the other's lips on our own…

After what must have been at least a minute, her lips parted slightly, her tongue came out and playfully licked my lips, and then she pulled back, wished me a good night's sleep, and skipped off to bed.

I swear, I stood there for half the night before pulling myself together, going to bed, and falling immediately into a deep, deep slumber.

The next morning, I avoided the kitchen until I knew my housemates had left. As much as I wanted things to be normal, I just couldn't face Marie… I couldn't even imagine what I'd say if I ran into Phillip. I called in sick for work, and when I finally got up and left my room, I heard a slight humming sound coming from Marie's room.

I knew that she'd left—I'd heard the sound of her car leaving the driveway—so I assumed that she must have left something on in her room.

I’m just being a good housemate, I told myself as I pushed her door open.

I'd been in Marie's room before, of course, thousands of times… but not since these strange feelings had started. There was something strangely intimate about standing there, surrounded by her posters and clothes, by the bed she sleeps in every night.

The humming sound was coming from her bed, and I saw it when I moved her bedspread to the side.

Her vibrator.

I knew that she had a vibrator—we'd talked about it, years ago. I might have even recommended a brand, a thought that filled me with a dirty thrill now that I thought about it. I'd suggested a vibrator to Marie. I'd contributed to her getting off. I'd helped Marie get off, night after night…

She must have been using it this morning and forgotten to turn it off before she left.

One part of my brain obsessively wondered what she'd been thinking, whether she’d been thinking about kissing me, how my lips had left, and how my mouth had tasted. Most of my brain, however, was fixated on the small, humming bullet vibrator in front of me.

This piece of plastic, this small, battery-powered device had, in the past few hours… been inside Marie. Or at least been pressed against her clit.

I mentally noted the size and shape of it—it wasn't for penetration, it was for clitoral pressure. Was that what she liked? I could remember that. Not, of course, that anything would ever happen between us, but if it did, I could know exactly what kind of stimulation she liked. I could know exactly how to get her off.

Without even thinking, I raised it toward me and sniffed it. My eyes fluttered, and I almost collapsed in pleasure. This was what Marie smelled like; this was what her most intimate fluids smelled like, what her cunt would be like to put my nose to. This was the scent of her womanhood… the only thing that could have been hotter would be if I were smelling it straight from the source.

For a moment I thought I saw Phillip entering the room and watching me, but that didn't make any sense. Phillip was at film school. Phillip spends all day at film school. Phillip goes to film school and is rarely at home. Unless he speaks to me, I don't see Phillip at home.

What a silly thought, I told myself, casting it from my mind and sticking my tongue out to lick Marie's vibrator.

That first taste will stick in my mind forever. It was like my brain was being rewired: like all my favorite flavors were being erased and replaced with the taste of Marie's juices. Like a lollipop, I licked it again and again, and when I'd licked all the flavor off, I inserted the whole thing into my mouth, wrapping my lips around it and desperately sucking, trying to get just another hint of the flavor.

My other hand, without me even being aware of it, had pushed my panties to the side and started pushing two fingers in and out of my wet cunt, but no matter what I did, I couldn't cum.

I thought I'd just been there for a few minutes, but when Marie came home from work a few hours later, that's how she found me—desperately masturbating on her bed, trying as hard as I could to get more flavor from her vibrator.

After all that, I still hadn't reached an orgasm, and so my mind wasn't working at full capacity. I should have been embarrassed, but I didn't have the mental energy. I wish I remembered what expression she had on her face when she found me, but all I could think about was her perfect legs, her magnificent ass, her flat stomach, her tits, her back, her hands… and her cunt.

More than I'd ever wanted anything, I wanted to see her cunt. More than I even wanted to cum, I wanted to feel it, smell it, taste it…

She told me to get up, and I did—I would have done anything she asked. She told me to follow her into the loungeroom, which I did. We sat on the couch, but Phillip didn’t follow us and sit on his throne. Phillip was at film school.

She turned the TV on, picked a movie from Phillip's hard drive, and pressed play.

We just sat next to each other as the movie played. She was fully dressed from work, and I was in my unbelievably wet panties and bra. The movie played from start to finish, and we just sat, held hands, and watched it.

When it was over, she turned to me, leaned in, and kissed me.

It was everything I'd dreamed it would be. Her tongue explored my mouth, and her hands explored my body. At first, I was too stunned to move, but as we kissed, she reached down and undid her skirt.

For some reason, that was all that I needed to take me from my stupor, and I immediately leaned over her and kissed her back. I reached down and literally ripped her shirt off—buttons went everywhere, but neither of us cared. For some reason, she wasn't wearing a bra, and it didn't take long for me to get my hands on her breasts—just like I'd fantasized, I started tugging and pulling at her nipples… which, just like I'd hoped, drove her wild.

She wrapped her stocking-clad legs around me and pulled my mouth to hers so hard I was afraid she was going to chip a tooth. We made out until I grabbed her hair and dragged her away from me, reaching down and taking her panties off.

I looked up at her—her face was flushed, her hair was messy, and for once, she didn't have a cheeky smile. Her mouth was partly open, and she was looking at me with such lust I couldn't believe it.

"Do it," she whispered. "Please…"

Even though I wasn't watching the TV, I could hear the credits’ music rolling. It had this weird sound effect, like a male panting. I have no idea what the movie was—it probably made sense in context, but I remember thinking it was a little weird at the time.

Without any further hesitation, I did what I'd been dreaming about for so long and tasted Marie's sweet pussy. I used one hand to part her lips, so I could better taste her, and the other hand slowly inserted a pair of fingers into her cunt. As I slowly pumped my fingers in and out, I remembered what I'd learned and used my tongue to apply pressure to her clit.

Within no time, she was cumming, and her juices were flooding my mouth.

I was in heaven. The taste I suddenly knew I’d craved since meeting Marie… it was amazing, almost overwhelming—I could taste it in every corner of my mouth, and I never wanted to brush my teeth again.

I thought that Marie would have returned the favor, but she wasn’t super into it for some reason. The movie's credits ended, it went to the menu, and another film started playing a few seconds later—I'd never seen it do that before, but I guess we usually turn it off before the credits finish.

We sat there—Marie nude except for her stockings, me in my bra and panties—and watched another film. Again, I really can't tell you what it was—the whole time, I had one hand in Marie's pussy, playing and tweaking and fooling around, while my eyes never left the screen. I was just so excited to finally do everything I'd dreamed of doing for so long.

While watching the film, I realized that, on some level, I must have had a crush on Marie for years. That was why I'd wanted to move in with her in the first place. I guess I've always subconsciously been a lesbian—that's why I'm not at all threatened by letting Phillip see me in my underpants. I want Phillip to see me in my panties. I don't mind what Phillip watches me do.

I don't know how Marie feels about the whole thing—she spent the entire film bucking under my fingers (I just did what I knew I'd want done to myself) and staring at the film. When it was over, she leaned in for another kiss and, without prompting, removed my underwear, knelt in front of me and tentatively started licking my pussy.

Several days of arousal came to a head—the tiniest bit of contact from Marie was all that I needed. I came, and came, and came, and came. Marie got really into it—she didn't let up, even as I thrashed around, screaming her name, cumming harder than I've ever come in my life. She just kept on playing with my pussy; one hand came up and played with my tits, which set me off again.

I couldn't believe it. We spent the rest of that night playing with each other on the couch. I don't remember either of us getting up at all, but at some point, Marie’s vibrator appeared with fresh batteries, and we spent a few hours playing with that as well.

Even when the TV switched off, that weird panting sound never disappeared, but I figured it wasn't worth worrying about. I had much, much better things to focus on.

Finally, when we ran out of energy, we went into Marie's room to sleep. We just spooned and in the morning, sort of continued where we left off.

It's been about three months since then—so far, we show absolutely no signs of getting sick of each other, I'll tell you that! We're so lucky that Phillip is so cool about things—he's home a lot more these days, for some reason, and at first, we used to wait until he was gone before we started fooling around, but one day, when the three of us were watching a movie, he explained that he doesn't mind.

Since then, even when he’s around, we’ll go around nude or in sexy lingerie and hook up if we feel like hooking up. It’s so freeing—Marie and I are so into each other that you can never tell what will set us off next. I might be making breakfast with Phillip and see her walk in wearing her favorite corset. We don’t even have to leave the room; we can just get up on the kitchen counter and make love right there.

Phillip was showing us a documentary on lesbians and mentioned that he was considering making something similar. Marie and each other almost spoke over ourselves in our rush to volunteer—ever since I discovered my true sexuality, I've been keen to share it with the world, and being filmed just seemed like such a natural first step. He's got about 50 hours of footage so far—he hasn't edited it together yet, but he says he'll probably release it online when he does. At first, it bothered me that he'd film us making love. Still, he showed us a similar documentary—"Lesbian Strap-ons 5", and after we'd watched it for a bit, I had to agree that it's essential to show the whole relationship, not just the family-friendly parts.

Anyway, since Marie and I are spending every night together in her room, mine is pretty much going to waste, so we've decided to rent it out. Phillip says he knows someone who might be interested, so we're letting him take care of it.

I only have two criteria—for them to fit into the house, they must be gay-friendly and really, really into film!