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.
