I didn't get home until after 6AM. I'd been working with a buddy of mine all night as a temp at his job at a warehouse to pick up some extra cash, but I'd expected to be home by 2AM at the latest. And I'd started that job after getting off my regular job, meaning I'd been up and working for almost 24 hours straight. I wasn't in the greatest of moods, then, considering that not only had I given up my Friday night for the extra work, but now I was so tired that I'd probably sleep right through most of my Saturday.
I entered my apartment quietly. I lived with my girlfriend, Cheryl, and I knew she had gone out drinking with girlfriends the previous night. She didn't drink much except when she was with those friends, so I expected her to be still sleeping it all off. Nights out with her friends usually didn't end until around 4AM, so she probably needed her rest as much as I did.
The living room looked as expected. Orderly, but used. A few pillows and a couple blankets were strewn about. Two glasses of clear liquid sat on the coffee table, one empty, the other half full. When I went through the kitchen, various bottles of liquor were still out on the counter. Cheryl didn't leave messes like this before going out, so it looked like the night must have ended here.
I was immediately disappointed. I'm a stickler for drunk driving, and if the night had ended here, I doubted whoever Cheryl had been drinking with had been sober by the time they left. I always reminded her that her friends were welcome to stay on the couch if they needed to, but they never took up the offer. And this morning, once again, the couch was empty. They should've known better. They were all my age or near it, mid-twenties, and a few of the friends had had DUIs before. Sara, Cheryl's best friend, had had two.
When I walked into the bedroom, I saw that I was wrong in my assumption, but that was the least of what came before my eyes. Sara had been the one helping Cheryl with that booze on the counter, and I knew that because she was still here, on the bed--no, IN the bed. My bed. Laying sound asleep on my side.
Sara and I had never really gotten along. We were always nice to each other, but she didn't have much to say to me when Cheryl wasn't around. I thought she was immature for her age because of the excessive drinking, and I'm sure she understood that through the various hints and light jabs I'd given her over the years. Which was probably why she didn't like me.
But despite my feelings toward her rowdy personality, I had to admit I loved having her around. I love my girlfriend, and I think she's beautiful and sexy, and in fact, if it came down between her and Sara, Cheryl would be the one to get in the pages of Playboy. But Sara would be the one who always stirred men's imaginations first and most often. Blonde and pretty, she was shorter than Cheryl and almost twice as heavy, but she carried her weight well, especially her breasts, which were just fucking amazing, and I don't think she owned a top that didn't show them off. I'm talking Ds, probably double Ds, and they sat as high and were as pointy as physics allowed.
Since I met her, Sara had found her way into many of my fantasies. Cheryl was not the least bit bi, but of course I imagined scenarios where she and Sara had one drink too much, and one thing led to another, and, well, you get the idea. Helping that fantasy was that I knew Sara had kissed girls before when she was really drunk a few times, though it had never gotten farther than that.
But as I stepped further into the room, my cock jumped at the realization that that was no longer the case. Though she was laying face down, the blankets only covered half of Sara's back, and it was completely bare. I could see where a bra strap would've been if she'd been wearing one, but now there was only skin. Sara was, if not completely naked, then at least topless in my bed, next to my heavily dozing girlfriend.
Cheryl was too bundled under the sheets for me to see if she was also topless, but I could see clothes on the floor on her side of the bed, including a shirt that she often wore on nights out. And the t-shirt she'd worn to bed the night before was still on the dresser where she always left it in the morning after getting up.
Could this be real?
I looked down at my feet, where the laundry basket sat next to the closet. The clothes on top were not in it, but thrown across it, as if by accident. The jeans were too big for Cheryl's smaller body. As were the pink panties lying across them.
Oh God.
I wondered if this had been planned. Had it happened before? Did they even know what they'd done? And if not, upon waking to the realization, would they be horrified?
But my erection throbbed, and I also wondered what my chances were of jump-starting another session and joining in.
As I stood there, staring at Sara's smooth, naked back and the squashed side of one of her huge boobs peeking out beneath her, I tried calculating my chances. Deductive reasoning led me to believe that they hadn't been in total control of their functions. Even if they'd been aware of what they were doing at the time, they wouldn't have just fallen asleep like this for me to discover them. Ultimate male fantasy or not, Cheryl would've felt bad for cheating on me and would've wanted to tell me about it herself. And Sara wasn't close enough to me to let me in on this kind of a secret. So intentional night of lesbian sex or not, there was no way for me to become a part of the morning after.
But I wanted that possibility to exist, so I tried to find a way. Cheryl thought I would've been home at 2. They usually didn't get back from the bars until after that. So the whole time her and Sara were here, Cheryl would've expected me to come in at any moment. Unless she was so drunk it never entered her mind.
Besides that, I had caught them, whether they wanted it or not. It was their fault for falling asleep together. So even if I didn't wake them up now to see what was going on, I could still catch them off guard and put the ball in their court. I could just go into the bathroom, get in the shower, and the sound would wake them. They'd have time to discuss their situation, as well as how to deal with me. If I was allowed to take that shower, then come out and find them awake but still in bed, then I'd know if they cared that I was aware of all of this, and if I had a shot to join them. And if they were horrified, then it was still the polite thing to do.
But I had to add a little fire to the flames. I had to leave an indication that I had been in the bedroom, and that I had probably seen them. This way my expectations would be immediately discussed, and the topic of a threesome would be natural, if at all possible.
I decided to leave my clothes by the hamper so they'd be easily seen, but not advertising themselves. When the shower came on in the next room, one or both of them would wake, see my clothes, know I'd seen something and guessed something else, and the "what do we do now" discussion would begin. If Sara wanted to take off, she could, but hopefully, if she knew she'd been caught, she'd stay to deal with it. Somehow.
Quietly I undressed, thrilled at what might lie ahead, but also by the fact that I was going to be naked and just inches away from Sara's nude body. I watched her, hoping she'd roll over and give me a glimpse of those fabulous tits. I was so excited that I got dressed out of order, starting with my shirt and pants, but then realizing my shoes were still on, trapping my pants and boxers around my ankles. I bent down to slip them off.
There was a rustling that was very faint, but in my ears it was thunderous. And with it was movement in my peripheral vision. I snapped my head up and came face to face with Sara, now sitting up in the bed, wiping heavy sleep from her eyes. The sheets had fallen down to reveal her heavy breasts. I didn't want her to feel caught, but I couldn't look away. They truly were magnificent. A fortune in plastic surgery couldn't duplicate the gorgeous set of huge, natural milky white tits with their big, pink areolas and nipples. Surprising me was that Sara's pretty face, even after hard sleep and an obviously hard night, was as beautiful as ever, even with pillow creases on her cheek.
She looked at me without concern, as if she wasn't aware of what she was showing me, or even if she was actually awake. I slowly stood up straight, trying to find words to explain or put her at ease, but before I could say anything, my erection did for me.
Sara's neutral gaze suddenly registered shock. She looked from me, to her exposed breasts, and back to my erection before staring down at the sheets and gingerly covering herself. But surprised as she was, she didn't freak out. She looked over her shoulder to the lump under the covers that was my still sleeping girlfriend, then looked back to me with...what was that? A smile!
