This is a copyrighted original work of fiction. All rights reserved.
All characters featured herein are at least eighteen years of age, even if not expressly stated. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Song lyrics contained herein remain the original artist's property.
Many thanks to editor Tom Graham of Girls_cum_first.
*
If I wasn't such an idiot I'd have had it all sorted out before. I needed a place to stay for my Junior year in the Math's program. I planned on staying with Ron but I screwed up and didn't act in time to get the room.
Donny had a room at his place, but it would have been party central, a crazy hashish Kasbah - 24/7. I'd never get any work done.
But then I talked to my friend Ana. She said there's a basement room in the house where she's staying and it was less money. Was I interested in seeing the room?
Five girls. It would be me and five girls.
Of course I was interested.
So I went to visit the house and check out the room with the intent of possibly staying there. Oh, I recognized that on the one hand I had the prospect of living with a bunch of girls running around in panties and bras, or less. On the other hand, I could be walking into an estrogen concentrated, cackling nightmare.
My tardiness led me to the best year of my life. I landed up staying with the girls.
I went to visit the house on a bright sunny Sunday morning, the day before classes started. Christa answered the door.
She was the mother of the house. She was a doll. Muscular, tight ass, nice boobs, beautiful creamy-pink colored skin, completely blemish free. Although she was fairly short, maybe five-five, she had this physical energy about her, a whirlwind dynamo. Christa's pretty face, grey eyes and a medium length brown ponytail, pulled tightly back, contrasted to the neck veins that had a tendency to pop out when she moved.
My friend Ana was there too.
And Angela.
I saw the room. It was small, in the basement, just at the bottom of the stairs. It had a tiny window, about 6" x 18". That was it, a stuffy little room with a closet.
Still, the prospect of panties running around had my mind rushing. Plus, let's face it, there was a really good possibility that I could land up screwing one or more of the girls during the course of the year.
Christa asserted herself. She broke down the rent money and landlord's rules Nothing much out of the ordinary there. Then she told me
her
rules.
Clean up after yourself. Contribute to the work. If we are going 'common' for dinner on any particular night, I'm expected to pay my fair cost and do my share of the prep and clean-up. Fair enough I figured.
Christa stuck a finger in my chest and said, "Your bathroom is downstairs. You are not using this bathroom," pointing down the hall, "even though this one is closer, even though you need to pee badly, you're still going downstairs. Got it?"
She continued, "No parties.
We
have parties and you can bring friends, but I'm not having a bunch of your dickhead nerds hanging around here drinking beer and playing video games.
I'm
not having? Shouldn't it have been
we're
not having?
She went on, "You can have friends over but they are not sleeping on the couch. Whoever stays over sleeps in your room, with you. Got it?"
What a bee-atch. The rules are reasonable but did she have to say it that way? Apparently that was her third year in the house and she had had taken some kind of leadership role in running the place. Whatever.
"I'm good with all that," I told all three girls.
Christa crossed her arms across her -- really nice -- pert tits and said, "Somehow I know I'm going to get crucified for asking this.....
so
, do you want to take the room?"
"Yeah. Are you ok with that?"
After a pause, "When are going to move in?" she answered.
"Shouldn't the other girls be asked if it's ok before you say ok?
I could tell I was blushing. Christa blushed too.
"Angela darling, will you be ok if Joey stays with us this year?"
Angela broke out laughing and couldn't answer before Christa continued, "Ana, do you have any objections?
"No, not at all," Ana answered with a grin on her face.
"What about the other two girls?"
Christa answered matter-of-factly with her head held high and mighty, "They've left it up to me. They trust my judgment in such matters and
we
are ok with you moving in."
"Ok, fine. I'll see you tomorrow," I said with a big grin on my face. "Bye," I walked out the door.
Just outside the door I stood for a moment thinking, what have I just done? Then I heard laughter inside the house and Ana's unmistakable Birmingham accent, "Ya I told you," and more laughter.
I'd known Ana - Anahita Chatervedi - for pretty well two years by then. She was in my Math's program at university. She was the smartest person I'd ever met and I was in total awe of her. On several occasions when I struggled with a math concept that the profs, the TA's and the textbooks combined couldn't get me to get my brain around, Ana would walk me through the most bizarre leaps of logic that math can be. Higher math is a queer thing. Either you get it or you don't. It's not just a visualization type of understanding either. We live in three dimensions. But we can't visualize four. We can rationalize it, with effort. How about five dimensions, or ten, or negative pi dimensions. It can get kooky. But not for Ana. That girl was amazing.
Not only was she brilliant at math, always at the top of the class, but on any subject. She was very well read and current, it didn't matter what subject was brought up...middle east politics, latest pop stars, endorphins in the brain, vampire stories, it didn't matter...she knew it all and she could come up with the most esoteric, bizarre stuff even beyond my normal. She could blow my mind. She was a true friend.
She was good looking too. Plus she had a Birmingham (UK ) accent that made her really exotic.
I would have loved to go out with Ana but didn't dare go after her, for a couple reasons. One, I wouldn't do that and risk losing a friendship. If I made a pass at her I'm pretty sure she'd bolt at my affront to her and that would be it. Secondly, she was in a different class altogether. She was already talking about going on and getting her Doctorate. I was sure she'll get it. I was also pretty sure I could see this girl's trajectory in life. No matter what she would land up doing, she was going straight up like a rocket.
I simply didn't have the metal capacity or the charm to keep up with Ana.
Sexy as she was, she had that typical Indian woman look, straight black hair, brown eyes. Maybe it's a cultural thing. I could see her getting old and what may be considered shapely today will become a short, stout Indian woman tomorrow. Plus, she had those wispy almost side burns that some Indian girls have and that faint little moustache thing -- a real turn off for me.
I was dearly fond of her, I was in awe of her, but I knew I wasn't going even going to try to go out with her. She was just not the soul-mate for me.
In those early days Angela turned out to be a great friend too. Angela Immaculatina Maria Delvecchio was hilarious, a natural comedienne. Whichever room she walked into immediately brightened up. With laughter! All Angela. She was a lovely, really nice, sweet person.
And she had massive breasts. Unfortunately, they were sitting on a big belly too and backed by a truly fat ass. She really should have been, like, forty or fifty pounds lighter. She had a pretty face though, sparkling brown eyes, wavy dark brown hair and a lovely smile, albeit with chubby cheeks and a bit of a hooked nose, although that gave her character.
Not only was she funny, she had a twisted mind too.
Angela was a bit of a sad case though. Because she was heavy...she didn't get dates. She'd get all dolled up and go out to clubs with her equally fat Italian heritage friends all smeared with make-up and wearing clothes that they really shouldn't have been wearing. Inevitably she would come home pissed up and disappointed. I felt sad for her. She was trying.
I know she was eager to have me, but there was no way. Sympathy sex just wasn't my bag.
Ah, but then there was Bubbles. Lisa St. James, but I preferred to think of her as Bubbles. She was a walking wet dream. I didn't actually meet her until about a week after I'd moved in. I nearly pissed my pants when I did. She was about five four, blonde... natural blonde...straight hair to just below her shoulders and the cutest face with big, dark blue eyes and a sexy, devilish smile that immediately got my cock twitching every time I saw it. She had a tight, little ass and smallish pert titties which suited her thin frame. All in all she was a blonde, pink, adorable piece of girl candy.
The harsh reality, which I was fully cognizant of, was that girls that cute simply don't go out with guys like me. Not that I'm bad looking. Bubble's could get any guy she wanted and I knew it wasn't going to be me.
I couldn't keep my eyes of Bubbles whenever she was anywhere near me. It didn't matter who else was in the room, the girl drove me nuts. She was always giggling and just bubbling. From the moment I laid my eyes on her I really wanted to have her.
Bubbles had though, not surprisingly, all these 'boyfriends' chasing her all the time.
I actually knew Eve before I moved in. Or rather, I knew who she was. She'd been in a couple of Computer Sci classes with me. I knew her name -- Eve Daniels, but that was about it. Well actually, I knew her body, fully clothed unfortunately. Naturally, I'd been checking her out in class and in the hallways.
Eve, or as I preferred to think of her after moving in...Church Girl -- she actually went to church on Sundays...was a sexy babe. Tall, thin. Almost lanky, but not quite. More cat-like in her movements than anything gangly. But tall -- I'm six-two, she was not a lot shorter than me, maybe five-eleven? And she had wide hips that wiggled...oh so sexily when she walked...plus, that inch wide gap at the top of her thighs that drives me just out of my mind. Prime camel-toe material, if she wore the right clothes. Nice breasts too, maybe a bit small for her wide shoulders, but definitely more than a handful. She had a beautiful - a classically beautiful, face. And a pearly white smile...oh! Clearly a lot of expensive dental care invested in that smile. She had a lovely white complexion and the cutest tiny, tiny, beauty spot mole on the top left of her full lips, a Marilyn Monroe thing, but on the other side and much smaller. She also had a little cleft to her chin that just sealed the deal for me.
I'm pretty sure it was love on first sight. Well maybe not love...but lust for sure. And that was a year before when she was in my Comp Sci classes and hanging out in the hall.
I don't think I ever saw her with make-up, though, or jewelry for that matter. Maybe a watch.
Eve was a frumpy dresser though. That and her mousy, straggly brown hair that always seemed to be a little bit greasy...set her apart from the other girls. She wore glasses with....black frames. She was B-list material
in other people's minds
, not mine.
If she did something with her hair, maybe put on some make-up once in a while and wore some nice clothes, she could be the hottest thing around, I thought. Had she ever considered contacts?
Nevertheless, I thought she was....well, definitely not
hot
