Monday
Expectations are a big part of politics. Making them, setting them, preparing for when they are broken, breaking the right ones, even using other people's expectations to your own advantage. Expectation is the biggest power broker available to a politician, for if you can adroitly manipulate the expectations of others, while never allowing your own ones to cause you surprise, then you will have the world at your feet.
I woke up the next morning in virtually the same position I had fallen asleep in: one girl in the crook of each arm. Keisha had turned around in her sleep, but was still molded to my right hand side. Cindy was snuggled in close to me, her left arm splayed across my chest.
I'd been having a good dream about.... something, I cannot rightly remember what, though I think the face-less Angel Cindy had described to me twice now was in it. Regardless, because it had been a good dream I closed my eyes again, attempted to regulate my breathing and slow down my brain in an attempt to return to sleep.
Before I succeeded, however, Keisha stretched out, yawning her way awake. It took her a moment to get her bearings, and when she did, she turned around to regard me and Cindy with a studied gaze. I closed my eyes quickly, trying to appear asleep. It was easier than having to talk to her without Cindy as an intermediary for the moment.
After a moment's pause, Keisha began to clamber over me and Cindy to get out of bed, when Cindy's hand shot out to stop her flatmate. "Stay." My girlfriend mumbled against my chest. "It's nice and warm."
"I should leave you two alone." Keisha whispered. "It's a new day, and I..." She trailed off.
"Stay," Cindy insisted, "we can talk."
Keisha eventually sank back down to the mattress, my arm still beneath her shoulders, but only her hip otherwise touching mine by necessity of the small bed.
"What do you want to talk about?" She asked with another yawn.
"Anything. We haven't talked since you got back from Dennis'."
"Uff. Please don't. That guy still makes me mad."
"You were going to stay at his the whole weekend, what happened?"
Keisha sighed heavily, preparing herself to explain: "I got there, expecting him to pick me up at the train station, like any good boyfriend would, right? But of course he wasn't there. So I figured he was just late, so I waited around for half an hour for the asshole to arrive. He did, eventually. Gave me some lame excuse about his friend's house being farther away than he thought, which I knew was bollocks because he's over at that friend's place every day playing some stupid video game."
I felt Cindy nod encouragingly, her head resting on my chest and her golden hair cascading down my belly. Keisha continued.
"So anyway, I decided to ignore that, and give him the benefit of the doubt. We got to his place, and the first thing he did was leap into his bed, drop his shorts, get out his little pecker, and then told me to: 'pucker up babe', which I just found grossly inappropriate as I obviously wasn't in the mood. But I figured he hadn't seen me in 2 weeks, and him being a guy he'd need some action soon, right? So I went over, and began sucking him off, doing my magic, and I notice he isn't really getting hard. I mean he's stiffening up a bit, but not really stiff, you know? I get to wondering if I've lost my touch, so I ask him if everything is ok, doing my best innocent Marilyn Monroe impression and he just kind of grunts and says, 'I don't know babe. You must be doing something different.'
"Anyways, I go back to giving him head, and I'm licking down the underside of his dick towards his balls, and when I pull his balls into my mouth I notice a weird taste there, like a sort of waxy taste, but not from a conditioner or something. I spit out his balls and take a closer look and there's this bright pink smudge of lipstick there, with glitter in it! You know me, I don't like that stuff, so I reach the logical conclusion: he's got at least a blowjob earlier that day."
"Shit." Cindy commiserated. "Then what?"
"What do you think, 'then what'? I confronted the asshole, and he had the audacity to deny it for a while until I threatened to go offer his friend a blowjob if he would tell me the truth. Dennis tried to call my bluff. Even followed me all the way over and watched me get down on my knees before his friend and undo his belt before letting up. Apparently he's been fucking this stripper chick from his block for kicks. I've seen her, she's fucking hot too, but I really couldn't take the lying. He tried to plead with me, but I told him to fuck off."
"So you came back home." Cindy concluded.
"Not straight away." Keisha admitted. "I was a wreck, and Dennis' friend was a nice enough guy to let me cry myself out. I felt kind of bad for having almost promised him a blowjob but not delivering and I kind of still wanted to get back at Dennis, so once I got myself sorted out somewhat I offered another one in return for a ride to the train station. He agreed. So I sucked him off. He got a little too fresh though, started grabbing my tits, so I slapped him, told him no, and continued the blowjob. Just after he came though he got really handsy again, so I slapped him hard enough to throw him to the couch and stalked out. Had a long walk back to the train station, and got back here really freaking late."
Keisha sighed.
"Which is when you saw us?"
"Yeah, again: sorry about that. But you two looked so good, and so happy, and after the day I'd just had... well, let's just say that I needed a release. You know how much of a sex-crazed nymphomaniac I am!" Keisha attempted to defend herself.
Cindy laughed gently. "I do. And though he won't admit it, you've been driving my man," - she patted my chest here - "a little bit crazy with your teasing."
Keisha snuggled in close. "Just your man?"
Cindy was confused. "What do you mean?"
In response Keisha stroked Cindy's hair. Then leaned in to kiss her. Cindy pulled back. "Keisha, I... I'm flattered but...."
Keisha laughed. "Don't worry. I'm not in love with you or with him." She rammed me in my side a bit, and made me grunt. I figured it was time to give up the charade of sleeping.