In the early 1990s, I was roommates with a nerdy friend named, Steven. He managed a local print shop in Seattle and his girlfriend, Ariadne (pronounced: Air-Eee-Add-Knee), worked at a small repertory theater, both in the Queen Anne neighborhood. One evening I got off work a few hours early and as I parked my car at our apartment building, I looked up and noticed a quick burst of light illuminating the closed curtains of my roommate's bedroom. Steven was an amateur photographer and I thought he was testing his strobes. He was always snapping photos and I didn't find it unusual to walk into our apartment to find Steven testing his camera gear. Well, I didn't find it unusual...until I opened the door to our apartment that evening.
As I stepped through the doorway, the only light that radiated beyond the darkness of our living room was a faint glow coming from Steven's bedroom down the hallway; his door was cracked open about three or four inches and I could hear music playing (synthesizer-driven, new wave stuff). Suddenly, FLASH, the hallway lit up for a split-second and returned to darkness just as quickly. I heard giggling and I knew he was in there with Ariadne.
Ariadne was an attractive eighteen-year-old blonde who recently graduated from high school; she worked at the theater after school but, she was promoted to full-time manager upon graduating. I thought she was really cute but I couldn't believe my roommate, who was kind of a geek, could be dating someone, so young and good-looking. I always made a point to check out her firm ass when she wore tight jeans and I tried to image what her small braless tits looked like under her tee-shirts. Unbeknownst to me, I was about to find out. FLASH! Another burst of light filled the hallway.