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If you didn't know her, your first impression of Sonya would be that she'd descended from a long and particularly prestigious line of varsity cheerleaders. Tanned, blonde, and sporty—she struck that perfect balance between fit and curvy. But she didn't get her figure from shaking pom-poms at some football game, no sir. She got it from fencing. From stabbing people, competitively. She had a gift for it.
That's how we first met, actually—she joined the university fencing team with me during our second year of college after transferring from overseas. The guys and the girls competed separately but trained together, and I'm happy to say that I fell in love the very first time Sonya jabbed her foil into my breastbone. She beat me without giving up a single point, then tore off her mask and shook out her long, wavy hair.

"You're really good," she said, further charming me with her adorable Australian accent.

I was still trying to figure out how I'd been so thoroughly bested by an opponent six inches shorter than me. "I know I'm good. You're just much, much better."

Sonya scrunched up her face into a guilty smile.

"I'm Michael," I said, extending my hand. But instead of accepting the handshake, Sonya raised her blade, taunting me:

"You wanna try again? Who knows, you might get lucky."

I DID get lucky. Not in the next match, mind you (she kicked my ass again, just as thoroughly as she had before), no, I got lucky later that night, after she invited me back to her dorm room to watch the big swordfight from Scaramouche.

We hit it off so well, we wound up hardly paying any attention to the movie. I couldn't believe how compatible we were. We could practically finish each other's sentences.

She was like a wild, glowing ball of light. Feisty and earnest. Bouncy, flouncy fun. Filled to the brim with art and ideas and an endless supply of energy. And for whatever reason, she was every bit as smitten with me as I was with her. I had never been so happy to lose a fencing match.

By two in the morning, Sonya and I were busy practicing a very different type of thrusting. She was moaning incoherently while I plunged into her from behind, sheathing myself to the hilt inside her warm body. I scooped up those deliciously soft tits in my hands and squeezed...

Sonya cried out in sharp ecstasy—her voice so fucking sexy—that boiling hot body, trembling in my arms—

I pulled out, roaring like an a****l as I erupted all over her perfectly formed ass.

When Sonya and I both drifted back down to earth, we turned and saw her roommate standing awkwardly in the doorway, still clutching her keys. Eyes wide open...

At that moment, something snapped inside of us. Suddenly, having somebody else to watch became the biggest aphrodisiac imaginable. The following evening, right after fencing practice, Sonya dragged me into the girls' shower room, plopped me down on the bench inside, and promptly straddled my cock with her beautiful, naked body. Not a second later, all the other girls on the team strolled innocently inside and found Sonya riding me. Most of them ran off, giggling and shrieking, but two of the girls got such a kick out of our little exhibitionist display, they actually stayed to watch us finish.

After that, our little "shows" became commonplace around campus. We became minor celebrities at school, even had a few jokes written about us in the school newspaper.

Sonya was the love of my life, and we were inseparable for the remainder of our college years. We studied together, we ate together, we even tried to survive that awful P90X workout thing together—so it went without saying that we were gonna move in together after graduating.

But then, at the last minute, the school randomly changed its mind and determined that two of Sonya's transfer credits would no longer count towards her degree. Apparently "Semantic Linguistics" wasn't "real" science. Try taking THAT awesome little piece of irony out for a test drive.

We were kind of fucked. The news came so late in the semester, Sonya and I had already signed the year-long lease on our new apartment—across the country in CALIFORNIA. I had a job there, waiting for me to start in a matter of weeks.

So, much as it sucked, our only option was to date long-distance for the summer. Actually, it wasn't even the whole summer, just eight weeks. It was far from ideal, but we'd survive. How hard could it be?

Very, as it turns out. VERY hard. Like, throbbing, engorged, non-stop Viagra-type hard. I found that out on my very first day on the job.

CHAPTER 1 -- MY VERY FIRST DAY ON THE JOB

They called me the "Inter-Departmental Liaison," but really, my responsibilities were basically limited to hauling shit up and down the stairs and driving it back and forth across town, because the two guys who owned the company refused to work in the same building as one another.

Still, I couldn't complain. The pay was absurdly high for what I was doing, and for a guy just out of college it was a great entry-level opportunity to learn the business; meet the vendors, get the lay of the land, and get a sense for how things worked in the real world.

Like I said, I had two bosses, in two different offices, on opposite sides of town. My boss at Site A was Jerry—an older guy who actually made the effort to personally introduce me to everybody. Most of them acknowledged me with little more than a meager, monotone, "Hey." I wasn't particularly taken with any of them.

At least, that's how I felt until Jerry introduced me to—

"Mike, this is Claire, my assistant. She'll be your primary contact here at Site A."

Holy shit.

I tried to play it cool as the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen in my life rose from her desk to greet me. She swept back a few strands of short, copper-colored hair and smiled thinly, giving me a quick once-over with her piercing, ice-blue eyes. Maybe five or six years older than me, Claire had a cool sophistication that would have looked right at home on the cover of a Paris fashion magazine.

"Nice to meet you, Michael."

There was something cold about the way she smiled at me. Sure, it was polite—but it felt deliberately polite. As if she wanted me to know that it required actual effort for her to be nice to me.

Regardless of her frosty personality, there was no denying that the woman was a knockout. Tall, slim, immaculately dressed in a tight pencil skirt that showed off long, exquisitely toned legs. And—because Claire had apparently won the proverbial Puberty Super Lotto—she was top-heavy as well, filling out her designer blouse with a set of big, succulent tits, wholly undeserved on such an otherwise slender body.

The more I thought about it, I decided maybe it was a good thing Claire wasn't warmer towards me. Given that my girlfriend would be out of town for the next two months, the last thing I needed was some gorgeous woman flirting with me for four hours a day.

Which, of course, is exactly what I got with Tami.

She was my contact across town at Site B.

Having grown up in Seattle, Tami brought with her a fun-loving, rock and roll sense of style. She was about 22 years old and at least partially Japanese-American, but she was about as far from the cliché "demure, petite Asian flower" as you could possibly imagine: wild, friendly, and incorrigibly flirtatious.

She also had curves like you wouldn't believe. A soft, voluptuous body with a nicely plump ass and—

And... and...

Damn.

Her tits were huge. Like, same-size-as-her-entire-head huge. Tami had the sort of breasts that invited comparisons to the largest available items at your local produce department.

I silently reminded myself not to drool.

"Hi, I'm—"

"Mike, right?"

She jumped up from her desk and bounced across the room to meet me. I extended a hand to greet her, but Tami just swatted it aside and instead gave me a full-on hug—crushing the entirety of those unbearably soft tits against my body.

As she hugged me, Tami whispered, "I can't tell you how great it is to finally meet you! There are NO people my age at Site B, they're all like fifty or sixty. I have nobody to talk to. Imagine how stoked I was when I found out the new IDL was gonna be some cute, young guy!"

Aw crap. Did she really just say "cute?"

By the time I got home from that first day of work, I knew I was in trouble. My muscles ached from carrying boxes up stairs all day, and yet I was still sporting an erection that wouldn't go away. I couldn't believe my situation. Eight hours of each day—half my waking life—I was gonna be working alongside the two sexiest women I had ever laid eyes on.

And here I was, without my girlfriend for another TWO MONTHS. The sexual frustration was gonna be intolerable.

As I staggered up to my front door and fumbled to get my key in the lock, I consoled myself with the knowledge that I would only have to deal with Tami and Claire while I was at work. At least once I was off the clock, I wouldn't have to—

"Mike?"

It was Tami's voice. I looked up to see her and Claire standing in the hall, three doors down from my apartment.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked.

"We live here," Claire curtly replied. "We're roommates."

Tami shook her head in disbelief, laughing, "Is that really your apartment?"

"Yeah, I moved in last night..."

"I can't believe it! What are the odds? We're gonna be neighbors!"

Oh, great.

An hour later, I finally reconnected with Sonya via webcam, and even over the computer she could see how flustered I was.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"I just... I just REALLY wish you were here."

She grinned and told me how sweet I was. God, she was beautiful. I reminded myself that I really was a lucky bastard to have a woman like her in my life.

Then the building's electricity went out.

No lights, no computer, and no way to charge my cell phone's dead battery. But worst of all? No air-conditioning. It was the middle of summer, and the temperature in my apartment quickly rose to over 100 degrees.

Luckily—or unluckily, depending on how you look at it—our apartment complex had a pool. My swim trunks were still packed away god knows where, but I figured the black boxer-briefs I had on were modest enough to go out in public. So I stripped to my undies, headed down to the pool, and dove into the cool blue water as fast as I could.

It wasn't as crowded as you'd think, given the insane heat. All told, there were only six other people in the water when I went down there. There were two little k**s wearing floaties, their parents, an eighty-year-old woman in a mumu who just wanted to get her feet wet, and some creepy-looking older guy with a burgundy speedo and a big gold chain around his neck.

I tried my best not to think about the contributions those two little k**s were making to the chemical composition of the water as I floated on my back, enjoying the sensation of weightlessness. At last, a bit of relaxation after a long day of carrying heavy shit up and down flights of stairs.

One by one, the others got up and left the pool area, until only me and the old woman remained. Unbidden, my mind started conjuring up some predictably racy thoughts about my two beautiful coworkers/neighbors. Tami and Claire... I idly wondered what Sonya would think of the pair of them when she finally moved out here in a couple months. Would she be weirded-out when she realized I'd been in such close, constant proximity to two world-class specimens of sexy? Or even jealous?

No, that would be silly. Sonya wasn't the jealous type, anyway, and it's not like she expected me to spend the rest of my life with blinders on, not even noticing when another attractive women crossed my path. Hell, there's no crime in just LOOKING at the two of them, is there? Course not! Just so long as looking was all I did, and nothing else.

NOTHING else.

No matter how badly I wanted to.

Clang! The pool gate slammed shut. I lazily spun my head to see who was joining me at the pool—

And there they were, strolling towards me. My two gorgeous tormentors, their delicious bodies wrapped up in beach towels. I threw them a friendly smile and a casual wave of my hand, trying to play it cool and not let on that my heart was already doing somersaults in my chest in anticipation of what I was going to see when those towels came off.

Please be bikinis, please be bikinis, please be bikinis...

Don't be weird, brain.

"How's the water?" Claire asked politely.

"Wet," I grinned.

"Works for me!" Tami cheered, and she promptly dropped her towel.

Her suit wasn't a bikini, but I wasn't gonna complain about the view. Hot damn, those curves of hers were fantastic. She had on a blinding white one-piece that stretched across her luscious body like a second skin.

She took a running leap into the water, and my cock was already granite hard by the time she popped up for air and swiped the long, wet strands of hair off her smiling face.

"Whoo!" Tami cheered, then spun to face her still-dry friend. "Get in, it feels great!"

But Claire just circled along the edge of the pool, over to the shallow end, and dipped in her toe to test the temperature.

Tami turned to me with a conspiring grin, "She's kind of a chicken."

"I am not a chicken," Claire huffed impatiently. "I just don't like diving into ice cold water without checking the temperature first."

Tami burst out laughing, "How could the water be ice cold, girl? It's a million bajillion degrees in the shade. We're lucky this pool isn't boiling our pretty asses like lobsters."

Claire ignored her and went to strip off her beach towel—but she stopped at the last second, quickly giving me an appraising glance. From the look in her eyes, it was obvious why she was hesitant: Claire was wondering if it would make things awkward at work if I saw her in whatever skimpy outfit she had decided to wear to the pool.

I decided to make things easy on her and looked away, diving for fun down to the bottom of the pool and paddling around, hoping the exercise might do something to bring down my outrageous erection. No luck.

As I popped back up to the surface, I saw Claire's towel strewn across the side of the pool, and reflexively spun to catch a quick glimpse of her glorious, fair-skinned body as it slipped gracefully beneath the water.

Unlike Tami, Claire had decided to wear a two-piece; an itty-bitty little nothing of a suit. The top was gold, just a bit of string and a pair of positively immodest triangles to support the soft flesh of her tits. I didn't get a great look at the bottoms, but they were pink and pearlescent, and the way they were cut really did a great job of showing off Claire's incredibly tight ass and long, lithe legs.

As I tried to start a conversation with them, I silently wondered what they thought of me thus far. I consider myself a decently good-looking guy, and between the fencing team and my fairly active lifestyle, I've always kept in pretty good shape. Still, I didn't begin to approach these girls on the hotness scale, and I seriously doubted they'd been fantasizing about me all day the way I'd been fantasizing about them.

Still, what if one of them was interested in me? Okay, yeah, Claire definitely wasn't, with her icy smile and curt handshake—but what about Tami? She had called me "cute" at the office, and there was no mistaking all that flirting (and no way in hell was that girl unaware of the effect her "friendly" hugs had on me, rubbing those great big titties of hers all over my chest).

Maybe she was just a tease, but I figured it would probably be a good idea if I found a way to subtly drop the fact that I was in a serious relationship sooner rather than later. Who knows? It might even make Claire loosen up around me. Yeah. I should definitely slip my girlfriend's existence into the conversation.

"Does the power go out here often?" I asked instead.

"Oh my god, lately it's been happening all the time!" Tami answered.

Claire added, "Too many people running their air conditioners at once, we think. But we've only got one building manager who can fix stuff and he's only here in the morning."

Tami caught me checking her out, and shot me a naughty smile. "Good thing we have this pool to keep cool in the heat. I bet we'll be bumping into you down here a lot this summer."

She emphasized "bumping into" by literally bumping her body against mine.

Yeah, okay, she's definitely hitting on you, Mike. Better mention your girlfriend.

Tami continued treading water beside me, and I did my best to ignore the way her breasts were swaying beneath the water.

Her name's Sonya, remember? You've been dating for three years. Love of your life? Tell these girls you're off the market!

Was it just me, or had Tami's swimsuit turned just a touch more transparent than it had been before, when it was dry? In retrospect, I really wasn't doing a very good job of maintaining eye-contact.

Actually, I thought to myself, what's the hurry? So this girl is flirting with you, there's no harm in that. She's super hot and it's not every day a girl who looks like this makes a pass at you. Maybe you should just leave it be, for the moment. Tami's having fun, why put a damper on it? And Sonya's not even in the same state as you, she wouldn't get hurt if you flirted back a little, would she? It's not like you're gonna let anything ACTUALLY happen here.

You're not gonna ACTUALLY bring Tami back to your apartment and strip that wet bathing suit off of her body with your teeth. You're not gonna ACTUALLY slip a finger between her legs just so you can hear her moan while you spend hours licking and sucking on her heaving breasts. You're not gonna ACTUALLY fuck her senseless, in every possible position and on every available surface in your home.

Sure, you probably COULD do all that. If you really wanted to. I mean, she is clearly hitting on you...

"My girlfriend's gonna be so pissed when she finds out about these power outages," I hurriedly blurted out. The words sounded more forced and desperate than they probably should have. "She and I already signed a year lease."

Tami kept smiling, but I saw a bit of the wind go out of her sails. She quietly let herself drift a few feet further from me in the pool, for propriety's sake.

Claire, on the other hand, suddenly looked like a completely different person. She hadn't shown me a genuine smile even once, all day—but as soon as she heard me say the words "my girlfriend," she instantly relaxed. She started acting friendly—even silly. It made me wonder if her whole icy persona wasn't just some sort of subconscious defense mechanism she'd evolved to defend against constantly getting hit on at work.

The girls insisted I tell them about Sonya—she was going to be their neighbor too, after all—and so I laid out the facts of our whole frustrating, long-distance situation.

"Eight weeks without seeing each other? That's awful!" Tami said.

"Tell me about it."

"Do you even know anybody else out here?" Claire asked, frowning. "Or are you all by yourself until then?"

"Well, I don't exactly plan to spend the summer holed-up in my apartment with the curtains drawn—but no, I don't really know anybody out here. Not yet, anyway. Haven't quite figured out what I'm gonna do for a social life now that I'm officially a Californian."

My eyes travelled back and forth between the two women in the pool with me: Tami—short, curvy, and cute. Claire—tall, slender, and striking. Each of them ridiculously, impossibly beautiful in her own way.

I laughed, "Although, I suppose I could have had a worse first night here than meeting the two of you."

"Aww!" Tami giggled. "Don't worry, we'll be your friends. We might as well get to know each other, if we're all gonna be working together, right?"

And with that, she surprised me with another of her big-breasted hugs. The soft curve of her hip rubbed up against my still-raging erection, and Tami's eyes widened at the sensation. Then, with her back to Claire, Tami gave me a brief, secretive wink.

"Anyway, it's getting late, we've gotta make dinner soon," Claire sighed, pointing up at the now inky black sky above us.

They both headed off and I stayed behind in the pool for a few minutes, waiting for my penis to calm down before I hopped back on dry land with a boner in full view of my neighbors. When I finally did emerge from the water, I realized that the 80-year-old woman was still sitting at the side of the pool, serenely poking at the water with her toes.

She looked a bit lost, so I walked over to her and asked, "How are you doing? Everything okay?"

"Oh, I'm just thinking," she said.

"Thinking about what?"

She turned to me, her eyes glinting with knowing mischief: "Thinking about how nice it would be if I could still fill out a bathing suit as well as those two friends of yours. Once upon a time, you know."

I just nodded, having no idea how in hell I was gonna respond to that. She saw my discomfort and chuckled genially. "Well, well, well. Mister big handsome man spends all evening flirting with two beautiful girls, but he gets all tongue-tied trying to talk to an old woman."

"Seems to be the case," I smirked.

"Did I overhear you say you're girlfriend is out of town for a few weeks?"

"Yeah."

"Well then, son, I suggest you hurry home and rub one out before you do something incredibly stupid. I know how a young man's mind works, believe me."

Blushing all the way down to my most vestigial internal organs, I nodded my thanks and, still naked except for my wet boxer briefs, I hurried back to my apartment, fully intending to do just as she suggested. Thank god for jacking off; the world's single greatest vaccination against infidelity—

I'd locked myself out.

In my hurry to get downstairs to the pool, I had left my keys inside, with the doorknob bolt locked out of habit. Now I was stuck out here, in the dark, with no phone, no keys, no wallet, and no clothes.

With a sigh, I realized there was only one thing to do...

...

"Michael?" Claire greeted me at the door to her apartment, now dressed in a pair of tiny cotton shorts and a simple grey camisole with no bra. She reflexively d****d an arm across her swinging tits, soon as she saw me. Regardless, she was more covered-up at the moment than I was.

The girls had set up a few dozen candles around their apartment to combat the power outage, giving the space a soft, romantic feel. I heard the shower running and could only assume Tami was rinsing all the chlorine out of her hair.

Blushing, I said, "Hi, Claire. So, I'm really sorry about this, but it turns out I'm actually a huge idiot and... I locked myself out of my apartment."

Way to score points with your new coworkers, genius.

Claire moved aside and gestured for me to come in.

"Don't worry about it, it's happened to all of us at some point or another." She glanced down at my nearly naked body, and then added, "Albeit not in quite such a vulnerable state, I would imagine. Let me get you a towel or something to cover up."

She turned away and headed towards the bathroom, giving me a frustrating eye-full of her long legs and drum-tight butt. Just as she reached for the knob, the bathroom door swung open and, totally oblivious to my presence, Tami stepped out into the hallway, toweling off her long, black hair.

She was beautifully, utterly, naked.

For a split second, time froze. My jaw dropped open as I drank in the sight of her: Warm, smooth skin. Full, proud hips framing a tiny patch of pubic hair she had shaved into the shape of a heart. Her breasts—well, I almost fainted. I'd spent the better part of the past eight hours fantasizing about what Tami would look like topless, and I gotta admit my imagination didn't begin to do her justice.

As she toweled off her hair, the motion caused her entire chest to shake back and forth.

"Tami!" Claire shouted.

The beautiful, naked girl suddenly realized I was standing in her living room, gawking at her stupendous tits, and we both spun away at the same time, mortified.

There was nothing for it but to laugh. After I heard the door slam shut again, I called out, "Can I turn around now?"

"Yes, coast is clear!"

Claire was on-hand to pass me a large towel, which I gratefully accepted. As I went to cover myself up, I noticed her icy blue eyes dip south—just for an instant—checking out the way my cock was straining against the clinging damp fabric of my briefs.

Tami came out to join us a minute later, red in the face and fully dressed. She made a beeline for the freezer.

"Tamm, the power's out!" Claire cried. "You're gonna let out all the cold air."

"Would you please relax? I for one think we've all earned a sip or two of this."

She retrieved an ice-cold bottle of vodka from the freezer. "How about you, Michael? You look like you need a drink as badly as I do."

Bad idea, I told myself. Don't get drunk, not when your girlfriend's on the other side of the country and the only thing standing between you and the two hottest women on earth is a pair of boxer-briefs. DO NOT DRINK.

Before I could answer, Tami thrust a coffee mug into my hands, half-filled with neat, chilled vodka. The cold rush of air when she'd opened the freezer had perked up her nipples, which were now staring me in the face.

Yes, I should have politely declined the drink, but I was only 22 years old and the idea of turning down free booze was completely alien to me. Instead, I just thanked her and immediately downed about three shots of the stuff.

Tami plopped down beside me on the sofa and took a long sip from her own cup. "Sorry for, like, accidentally flashing you just now."

"I'm sorry for looking."

"Well then, here's to being sorry!" Tami raised her glass, and we both drowned the awkwardness with another swig of vodka.

The girls let me use their phones, but as expected the building manager couldn't be reached and wouldn't be on-site until the morning. I considered calling a locksmith, but Tami absolutely forbade me on the grounds that it was way too expensive.

"You can just crash here tonight," she said, earning a wary look from Claire.

"I can't impose on you guys that much, I only just met you."

Tami squinted comically at me, tapping her chin in thought. "Then we'll just have to find some way for you to make it up to us. You look like you're pretty strong, I'll bet you could barter a night on our couch in return for giving us back rubs."

Claire practically spat out her drink. "Tami! Come on, we work with him! Try to be a little more professional, would you?"

"He's seen my boobs, girl. I think it's a bit late for that. Besides, if you were really so concerned with being 'professional,' you would have gone into your room and put on a bra the second he walked in the door. Don't even pretend like you didn't realize."

Claire reflexively covered her chest and took a deep drink from her cup. "I guess a back rub would be okay," she said, meekly.

Okay, Mike. This is your brain. You've had a fun evening ogling and flirting with these two women, but I'm finally drawing a line in the fucking sand. You are not, under any circumstances, going to get drunk and spend the night giving Tami and Claire back massages. You are gonna pick up that phone, call a locksmith, and when he arrives you are gonna go inside your apartment, jerk off, and go to sleep. Okay?

Wait—is that lasagna I smell cooking?

Turns out, Claire could cook a mean lasagna. They offered me a piece if, in return, I agreed to throw in a foot massage for each of them before we all went to bed.

So we drank, and ate, and generally had a very nice evening cracking jokes about what had transpired.

"So Mike, has that ever happened to you?" Tami asked. "Like, a member of the opposite sex unexpectedly walks in on you naked?"

"Well... I probably shouldn't say."

They both egged me on to tell them the story, so, with the courage of alcohol flowing through my veins, I recounted for them my first time with Sonya, and how hot it had been when her roommate had accidentally walked in on us.

"Oh my god, how embarrassing!" Claire cried out.

"Actually, that's the weird part—it really wasn't. Sonya and I have no shame when it comes to that stuff. It just got us more excited than ever."

"Really?" Tami asked.

"Absolutely. I mean, think about it—obviously it was pretty awkward earlier today when I saw you walk out of the shower. But didn't it also give you like, at least a little bit of a charge? I mean it's not like you've got anything to be ashamed of."

Tami blushed an even deeper red, but she nodded.

"I guess... it was kind of fun."

She glanced nervously at Claire, then turned back to face me, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

"Michael, Claire and I need to discuss something in private for a moment, if you don't mind."

I nodded dumbly as the two of them got up and silently walked into one of the bedrooms. I heard urgent muffled whispers coming through the door, but I couldn't make out a single word.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Claire emerged, alone. Her blue eyes met mine, and with the same cold, detached expression she'd worn when we'd first met, she whispered, "I'd like to have my backrub now."

Without further explanation, Claire stretched out facedown across the couch cushions, her long legs and swimsuit-model butt just begging to be looked at.

"Where's Tami?" I asked.

"She's changing into her pajamas."

Casually as I could manage, I knelt beside her and slowly pressed my fingers into the muscles on Claire's back, rubbing through her camisole. I tried to convince myself that what I was doing wouldn't upset Sonya. It was just a back massage, after all. This was perfectly innocent. True, I was enjoying myself—growing more than a little excited at the feel of Claire's beautiful body in my hands—but what harm was there in enjoying myself?

Her muscles felt unbelievably tense beneath my touch, and I told her as much.

"Stress," she explained. "Had a lot on my mind lately."

"Like what?"

Instead of answering me, she just asked me to focus more on her shoulders. I silently obliged, wondering why Tami was taking such long time to put on those pajamas.

"I think she likes you," she said at last. The dejected tone in her voice was unmistakable.

"Who?"

"You know who. Tami. I think she's gonna try to make a move on you tonight."

My hands froze in the middle of her back.

Suddenly, my head was spinning, and not just from all the vodka I'd consumed. Since I'd started dating Sonya, I'd been hit on by other women plenty of times—but this was the first case where I felt like something might actually happen; the first time I actually, genuinely felt tempted to go for it. The memory of Tami's naked body flashed through my mind and I felt my gut tighten.

I honestly didn't know what I was going to do.

Claire rolled onto her side, her blue eyes imploring, "Listen, your personal life and what you choose to do are none of my business, but please just do me a favor."

"Sure."

"You wouldn't know it to look at her, but Tami just got through a really awkward breakup with her last boyfiend, and she's going through a pretty rough time right now. If you DO wind up like, doing stuff with her—please treat her well. Treat her like a princess. She deserves it, she's..." Claire looked away from me, her voice breaking as she finished her thought. "She's a special girl."

I nodded in agreement, and went back to kneading Claire's back. So Tami's on the rebound, I thought to myself. That explains why she's been so flirty and aggressive all day.

"Nothing's gonna happen between us," I assured Claire, though the words didn't sound particularly confident.

A huge sigh of relief poured out of Claire, and she finally let herself enjoy the massage. The soft moans of pleasure she kept making as I rubbed her body did nothing to slow my racing pulse.

"I'm sorry to get all serious on you like that, Michael. Please don't be offended, I just can't stand the thought of seeing her hurt anymore."

I decided to change the subject:

"So Tami's newly single, but how about you? What's your relationship status?"

Claire frowned, considering for a moment how best to phrase her answer. "Unrequited," she sighed at last.

"What, is he married or something?"

"No, there's nobody else in the picture right now."

"You mean, you've got feelings for some guy, but he's not interested in you? I have trouble believing that, Claire. You're about the most beautiful woman I've met in my entire life. Not to mention, you're smart, a good friend, and a good Samaritan to stupid people who lock themselves out of their apartments."

"Ha! Thank you, Michael. You're sweet. But sadly it is the way it is."

I looked at her in the candlelight, our eyes meeting for an instant.

"If it was me," I whispered, "and I was single, there's no way I would ever be able to turn you down."

She smiled, kissed me quickly on the cheek, and then got to her feet.

"I'm off to bed, see you in the morning. We'll have the building manager let you back into your apartment. Thanks for the back rub."

She strolled over to Tami's bedroom and opened the door:

"Okay, honey. He's all yours."

She threw me a final, inscrutable look, and disappeared into her own room, closing the door behind her.

For sixty unbearably long seconds, nothing happened. I just sat there on the floor, alone in the dim, flickering light, breathing nervously. Then Tami opened her bedroom door and walked into view.

My heart jumped into my throat. She had changed into her "pajamas" alright—though that word typically conjures up images of long-sleeved, button-down flannel tops—not the tiny, pink satin camisole she wore stretched over those massive tits. The scooping neckline was trimmed with white lace, and the whole affair hung limply from a pair of the dinkiest little spaghetti straps I'd ever seen. No support to speak of; her soft, round breasts bounced and swayed totally unsupported beneath the material.

Her bottoms looked like nothing more than a delicate ribbon of pink lace, doing nothing to deter my imagination.

"Wow," I moaned, provoking a big, self-satisfied smile on her adorable face.

"Just the sort of reaction a girl likes to get from a handsome man."

"You look... amazing."

My mouth hung open with arousal as she confidently crossed the room, closing the distance between us. Soon as she reached me, she leaned forward—giving me a torturous eyeful of her heavy, hanging cleavage—and yanked the towel off from around my waist.

I was too dumbstruck to move. We both looked down at my iron bar of a cock, jutting angrily out through the waistband of my boxers.

Her voice was sweet and sexy: "I think I'd like to take you up on that back rub now, if you don't mind."

I gestured for her to lay across the couch, as Claire had, but instead the voluptuous goddess just spun around and settled herself down on my lap. My cock was instantly squeezed between the warmth of her barely-covered asscheeks, which she wiggled for good measure.

Um, gulp? I'd expected her to be a bit forward, but I never in a billion years expected it to be like this. Keep it in your pants. Keep it in your pants. Keep it in your—crap, you're not wearing pants. Keep it in your underwear.

With every fiber of my being just aching to fuck this woman, I gently placed my hands on her shoulders and started the massage. Tami's head lolled to the side, revealing the feminine curve of her neck and giving me an unobstructed view down her shirt. She felt amazing in my hands, so smooth and yielding.

Absentmindedly, Tami dropped her fingernails to my naked thigh and began tracing random patterns in the skin.

"Just like that," she moaned. She closed her eyes, panting. A faint flush of color made its way down the swell of her bosom.

I honestly don't know if I did it intentionally or not, but as I rubbed her shoulders, the two spaghetti straps holding up her top gradually slipped down over the sides of her arms, taking Tami's neckline down with them.

Millimeter by millimeter, that lace neckline travelled down the slope of her breasts, revealing more and more skin until it finally came to an infuriating stop—held up by nothing more than the plumpness of her aroused nipples. If either of us had shifted even slightly, Tami's top would have fallen to her waist and those huge, naked tits would have swung free.

I couldn't help myself: Slowly but deliberately, I worked Tami's massage from the back of her shoulders to the top of her chest, just below her throat. Daringly, I reached forward, my heart racing from the naughty thrill as my fingertips brushed up against the upper curve of her breasts.

Tami leaned back against my chest, forcing my hands a few inches further in the process. Her head fell onto my shoulder and she moaned, encouragingly, into the side of my neck:

"That feels nice, too."

It was like I was in a trance, watching as another man's hands eagerly slid their way over the tops of Tami's breasts and SQUEEZED. The motion finally made her camisole slide all the way down, revealing her full, beautiful chest in all its glory.

My palms slid down, gently grazing across her erect nipples—

"Oh yeah..." Tami groaned.

What the hell am I doing?! The voice inside my head screamed. This isn't you! This is wrong!

Tami slid her ass off my lap and walked her fingertips up my bare thigh, slowing as she tentatively approached my crotch. I looked down at her, panting huskily, her eyes filled with desire—

Our mouths crashed hungrily together.

The second our lips touched, Tami's hand closed the final centimeter to my cock and gripped it hard, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. Our tongues teased along each other's lips—moaning, shaking in each other's embrace—

I was as horny as I'd ever been in my life. That nagging voice in my head sounded like he was shouting at me from the bottom of the ocean.

But nonetheless, I could still hear him.

"Tami, I'm sorry," I said, gently releasing her from my arms. "I can't do this. I've got a girlfriend."

Tami forced herself against me, kissing desperately.

"I won't tell her," she said.

"It's not that it's just—that's not the sort of relationship I want to have. That's not the sort of man I want to be."

God, she was so fucking gorgeous, looking at me wide-eyed like that. Her nude skin almost glowing in the soft, flickering light.

Tears welled-up in Tami's eyes. She quietly pulled her camisole back on and modestly crossed her arms in front of her braless chest.

I tried to place a reassuring arm around her shoulders, but she angrily shrugged me away.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"Don't fucking talk to me," she whispered. Before I could respond, Tami ran back into her bedroom and locked the door.

Fuck! I collapsed down onto the sofa, my cock still angrily throbbing against the fabric of my underwear. How the hell was I gonna fix this? What was I gonna tell Sonya? What was gonna happen at work tomorrow?

I still had eight weeks to go until Sonya moved out West. Fifty five more days of being around Tami and Claire. So far I'd only made it through one day—twenty four stinking hours!

This was going to be the longest summer of my life.

CHAPTER 2 - WHOOPS

When the sun came up, Claire shook me awake and curtly informed me that it was time I got the hell out of their apartment. I stumbled around my new apartment complex—still in my underwear—until I finally tracked down the building manager and got him to open my front door.

The power was back on and my cell phone was charged and staring right at me. Three missed calls from Sonya. I felt awful. For a moment, I considered picking it up and calling her back right then and there, but she was probably asleep and I still hadn't figured out how on earth I was going to explain things to her.

I hadn't let things go THAT far with Tami, but I had still betrayed my girlfriend's trust. I had, to whatever degree, been unfaithful for the first time in my life, and it was killing me inside.

I knew I needed to tell Sonya. No twisting things around to make me sound like the victim, either. But that would come later, when we could actually have a conversation. For the time being, I sent her a quick text explaining about the power outage and promised to call her after work.

Which sucked.

For the first half of the day, Claire barely acknowledged my existence, always finding something incredibly pressing to busy herself with whenever I tried to explain what had happened. She was professional, but dismissive.

Tami, on the other hand, just tried to avoid me altogether. I had hurt her more than I'd realized, and she seemed too embarrassed to even look me in the eye. Since I couldn't exactly talk to her with all the other people around the office, I had the bright idea of writing her a discreet letter of apology, explaining that I thought she was great, and I was so sorry that I had hurt her feelings.

She tossed it in the waste basket without even reading the thing.

I spent about 10 hours at the office that day, and every second of it was so awkward it felt more like 10 weeks. When I finally made it back home for the evening, I got out my phone and called Sonya.

"I love you," I started simply. Right off the bat, my tone of voice told her something was very wrong.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"No, I'm not. I... let something happen. Something really stupid. And I need to tell you about it."

"What are you talking about?"

Every word took tremendous effort for me to force out, like I was pushing a boulder up a mountain. "There's... these two women at my new job. Last night, I—"

"Last night you WHAT?"

"One of them kind of had a thing for me and—I didn't push her away when I should have."

There was a long, painful pause while Sonya gathered her thoughts.

Our relationship had been going great. She was supposed to move in with me in a couple months. A year from now, we both knew I was probably gonna start shopping for a ring. What if my behavior last night had put a wrench in all that?

"How far did things go?" Sonya finally asked.

"Second base."

"What the fuck is 'second base'? Is that like a blowjob or something?" she snapped.

"What? No! It's, you know, second base. First base is kissing, second base is feeling a girl up, third base is—"

"So you spent all night making out with some random girl and grabbing her boobs?"

"No, it was just for a couple of seconds, then I stopped it. I swear."

She made me sit through another of those horrible pauses.

"You promise that's all?"

"I promise. And I promise it will never happen again."

"This is so fucking lame, Michael."

"I know, babe, I'm so—"

She hung up.

"Sorry."

The rest of the week creaked by in pretty much the same miserable way, with Claire and Tami refusing to talk to me, and Sonya refusing to answer her phone or return any of my emails. I was so scared of losing her, I even considered flying back out east to see her in person—but ultimately accepted that she wasn't talking to me because she didn't want to. Maxing out my pathetic little credit limit to buy a plane ticket wasn't gonna change that.

I should have spent that first week going out, trying to get a feel for the city, making new friends and building a new life. But frankly, things were so weird I never felt like leaving my apartment. So instead, I cleaned and unpacked, organized all my shit, and then cleaned everything all over again. I filled what free time I did have discovering just how terrible most television shows really are when you watch them all by yourself.

When Saturday rolled around and I carted my dirty clothes downstairs to the community Laundromat, I stumbled upon Claire, just as she was cramming a load of wet clothes into the dryer. We both froze awkwardly at the sight of one another.

We were all alone. After four days of getting the brush-off from this woman, I finally had her cornered. Finally had an opportunity to explain myself:

"Claire, please just hear me out."

"No need, Tami told me what happened. Honestly, I kind of expected more from you."

"I know, I know, I'm so sorry things got out of hand. But I had to stop it before we went any further. I didn't want anybody getting hurt."

She frowned at me and shook her head. "No, you just didn't want YOU to get hurt. Look, I respect that you're not the kind of person who fucks around behind his girlfriend's back, but I told you—I TOLD YOU—that Tami was in a vulnerable place and you still took advantage of her."

"Whoa, whoa—I never took advantage of her! She was the one seducing me! I never did anything to lead her on!"

"You knew exactly what she wanted and you did nothing to discourage her. You let her keep coming onto you all night because it was stroking your ego to have some hot chick batting her eyelashes at you."

Claire walked right up to me, her icy blue eyes flashing with anger:

"And then, at the worst possible moment—when she was all excited and happy to have someone being affectionate with her for the first time since her breakup—you pushed her away. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

I looked down at my shoes. "I guess not," I sighed.

"And there are other people out there," she choked, fighting back tears. "People who would treat her so much better than you did. People who would love her and cherish her—but instead she set her sights on you."

And then it hit me, all of a sudden. Everything about Claire clicked into place. She wasn't just mad at me for hurting her friend—she was jealous of me. I looked into her eyes, realizing that Claire was hurting, too. Maybe worse than any of us.

"It's Tami, isn't it? That big, unrequited love you were telling me about the other night. It's your roommate."

"You don't know what you're talking about," she snapped.

But I did. There was a sudden, desperate fear in her eyes now that I'd brought it up. Fear of being found out.

"Claire, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. Does she know?"

She continued to glare at me, furious. But then, ever so slightly, her shoulders slumped, and all at once the steam went out of her. Claire's face fell and she just shook her head. She'd been holding back a tidal wave of a secret for god knows how long, and the pressure finally overwhelmed her.

The tears came back, more freely this time, and Claire slumped against one of the unused washing machines, trying desperately to force her sobbing under control. I sat down beside her, and when I went to wrap a reassuring arm across her shoulders, she didn't move away.

Halting words spilled out of her between breaths of air: "She's the best thing to ever happen to me. She's the best thing in my whole life. We do everything together! If I told her it would just scare her off."

"How long have you two been friends?"

"Less than a year, but—but I've never felt like this about anyone before. It's so great, but it hurts SO MUCH."

I hugged her, firmly as I could, trapping her inside the warmth of my arms.

"Does she even know you're gay?"

Again Claire shook her head.

"Look," I whispered soothingly, "under the circumstances I know I'm probably the last person in the world you'd even think about taking relationship advice from—but you need to tell her. If she's really your friend, she won't push you away. You need to trust her to do the right thing."

"What if everything changes?"

"Of course everything will change. There's no going back from an 'I love you.' But look at what's happening to you—This is tearing you up on the inside, and it's only gonna get worse."

After a few more deep breaths, Claire finally got herself together and withdrew from my arms, apologizing for the wet spots her tears had left on my shirt. She looked hard into my eyes and managed to quirk her lips up into a bittersweet, twisted smile.

"I don't get you, Michael. You're, like, a stupid asshole and a really nice guy all at the same time."

"I really am sorry I hurt her. And I'd really, REALLY like to be friends with you two."

"Please don't say anything to Tami."

"Hey, it wouldn't be my place."

That seemed to reassure her, and for the next forty five minutes the two of us waited for our laundry quite amicably. We chatted about nothing particularly important, just being friendly with each other. Neither of us mentioned Tami.

When Claire went about folding her clothes from the dryer, I caught an eyeful of several pairs of skimpy little thongs and panties, in all shapes and sizes.

"You have some sort of fascination with my underwear?" she teased.

I just shrugged my shoulders, caught:

"Honestly, I'm trying not to think about how they look when you're wearing them."

She rolled her eyes.

...

When I got back to my apartment, I saw that I'd missed a v-chat invitation from Sonya. She wanted to talk to me! Praying that it was good news that awaited me and not bad, I clicked respond and waited for her face to appear on my computer monitor. When it finally did, oh man did she look beautiful. She had just gotten back from a run was still all disheveled. A tiny band of sunburn ran across her cute little nose. Sonya was a knockout when she got all dressed-up, but there was something adorable about the way she looked when she was a sweaty mess that just melted my heart.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," I said.

"You're an idiot," she answered.

"I am, it's true."

Then, ever so slightly, she smiled at me, and my whole world lit up like a Christmas tree.

"I miss talking to you," she sighed.

I poured out my heart to her, telling her all the million things I'd wanted to over the past five days. Made sure she knew that she was the absolute, uncontested love of my life.

"Alright, alright!" she finally laughed, putting a stop to my gushy ramblings. "Listen, as long as it really was just a little harmless fooling around, and as long as you don't go making a habit of kissing other girls behind my back, then I forgive you."

"Thank you! When you get here I promise I am gonna make it up to you by sitting down with you and watching a dozen of those shitty old romantic comedies you love. In a row."

Sonya's beautiful lips curled up into a sinister smile.

"Actually, if you really want to make it up to me—take of your pants."

"Yeah?"

"Just shut up and do it," she ordered, "I've been super horny all week."

I was only too happy to oblige. Positioning myself in front of the camera to give her the best view possible, I slowly unbuckled my belt and unzipped my jeans. Then, without needing to be prompted, I teasingly slid my boxers down and stroked my cock until it was nice and hard for her.

We both did love to put on a show.

Sonya clapped in appreciation, her cheeks turning pink with desire at the sight of my exposed penis. "Aww, I missed him, too," she giggled.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable without all those sweaty workout clothes?" I asked.

In response, Sonya quickly stripped off her shirt and her horribly constrictive jogging bra, letting her big, soft tits bounce free. My cock gave a little lurch at the sight.

"Oh yeah, we're gonna have to do this more often," I moaned, clicking the "record" button on the video player.

The image on the screen only showed Sonya from the chest up, but from the motion of her arm it was clear that she was already starting to play with herself down below. She bit her lip and let out a little sigh of pleasure.

"Are you recording this?" she asked.

"Of course, are you?"

"Of course!"

My cock flexed even harder in my hand.

"I want—I want you to tell me what she looks like," she moaned.

"Who?"

"The girl you made out with. I bet she was really sexy."

Sonya was rubbing herself harder now, her breathing heavy and aroused. It was kind of an awkward question, and I honestly couldn't fathom what was going through her mind, but I decided to humor her, anyway:

"She's one of the hottest chicks I've ever seen. Adorable face, long black hair, tits out to here..."

"Even bigger than mine?"

"Way bigger."

"Oh, I'll bet she was all over you. Kissing you, groping you, rubbing those great big boobs in your face. I bet you loved every second of it.

"No, it wasn't like that—"

"Shut up," Sonya panted, continuing her story. "I bet you pulled her shirt off and sucked on her nipples like your life depended on it. Then she reached inside your underwear and stroked your cock until you were so hard you couldn't stand it anymore."

The dirty talk was really getting Sonya going. I watched the image on my computer as she raised her free hand to her beautifully aroused nipples and gave them a tug. My fist eagerly closed around my cock and kept stroking as she continued:

"Then I bet you bent her over the sofa, ripped off whatever slutty underwear she was wearing, and slowly buried every inch of yourself into her slit. How did it feel? How wet was she? What was it like feeling her ass bump up against you as you bottomed out? Did you grab her tits while you fucked her? Did you reach around and grab hold of those big boobs? Did you squeeze them as hard as you could? Did she moan for you? Did she shriek with pleasure?"

I grunted with arousal, my head spinning from the mental image my girlfriend was painting for me. Over my computer speakers, I heard the wet sounds as Sonya frantically rubbed her pussy offscreen. The motion vibrated her tits like crazy. Her words became practically incoherent with pleasure:

"I'll bet she—ooh—she came so hard with you inside her. I bet she woke the fucking neighbors with all her screaming. And then—oh my god—"

"Keep talking," I moaned, already feeling my climax approaching.

"Then I'll bet you pulled out and came all over her tits. Just everywhere. I bet you made a fucking mess of those things. And then—and then—"

I was boiling with arousal. Every muscle tightened, preparing for release—

"And then her sexy friend came over and licked it all off."

"Aah!" I screamed, spurting into the air in full view of the camera.

The visual of my orgasm finally pushed Sonya over the edge into her own euphoric oblivion. She sucked in powerful mouthfuls of air, shaking all over before finally—blissfully—collapsing in her desk chair.

"Sonya, holy shit!" I smiled, shaking my head in disbelief. "Where did that come from?"

"I don't know, I just—all week I've had this image in my head of you with that other girl, and as much as I hate to say it, it's been making me really horny! I've actually been fantasizing about it, can you believe that? It's crazy. Fantasizing about being there, I mean. About watching. Is that weird?"

"I don't know about 'weird,' but when you started talking about it—that was so damn sexy, honey. You saw me, I came in like thirty seconds."

"Come on, that wasn't all me. I'll bet you've been thinking about fucking those two ever since you met them."

"Well, yeah, but—just daydreaming. You know."

Sonya smiled, now more adorably disheveled than ever. "Mikey? How about next time you start daydreaming about those girls, you give me a call and... maybe we can daydream about it together."

When I woke up at 10AM the next day, I was already sweating from the intense heat. The weather forecast was predicting one of the hottest summers on record, and I believed it. I made a beeline for the swimming pool downstairs—this time remembering my keys and swimsuit.

Halfway inside the gate, I stopped in my tracks, utterly bowled over by the view of Tami climbing out of the pool. She'd worn a bikini this time—a skimpy one. Flimsy strips of dark blue fabric struggled to cover her bodacious body. Rivulets of water dripped down her curves as she crossed the patio area and took a seat next to Claire, who was soaking up the morning sun in yet another of the tiniest bikinis I'd ever seen.

I wasn't sure where I stood with them, at the moment. Things seemed to have chilled out between me and Claire, but would Tami still give me the evil eye if I said hi? Or would it be even worse if I ignored them?

Claire saw me first, and the fact that she actually smiled at the sight of me was a huge relief. I strolled over—

Tami was not so friendly. Her dark, lovely eyes met mine, silently ordering me to stay away. I stopped in my tracks, held up my hands in surrender, and simply told her, "You deserve someone better than me."

She looked down questioningly at Claire, who mouthed the words, "Talk to him."

Tami nodded, grabbed her towel, and grudgingly jogged over to me—throwing an inadvertent bounce into her steps.

"Tami, I just want to say I'm sorry for—"

"The pool's kind of a public place to have this conversation, don't you think? Mind if we go somewhere else?"

That little voice in the back of my head warned me that going someplace alone with this girl might, once again, not be the brightest idea. But we needed to mend things and I figured the odds of anything EVER happening between us was about as likely as me ever getting into a real life swordfight.

I opened the door to my apartment and led her inside.

"Geez, you settled in fast," she said. "The last time I moved, I took like four months to get everything unpacked."

"Yeah, well, I've had a lot on my mind the past few days and it's helped me think."

She sat down at my breakfast table, now wrapped in a fluffy beach towel that did nothing to disguise the shape of her chest... Focus, Michael! I distracted myself by pouring my guest a glass of orange juice. I spoke quietly:

"Look, what happened the other night—I handled that in pretty much the worst way possible. I swear I never meant to lead you on, it's just—I wasn't expecting you to look the way you did when you walked out in those 'pajamas.' Sorry, I'm making excuses again."

Tami looked down at her glass of juice, thinking.

"How long have you and Sonya been together?" she said at last.

"Three years, almost."

"Tom and I were together for four. I thought he was the one, you know? We were each others' first."

She looked up at me, her lip twitching down into a frown. "It wasn't all your fault, what happened the other night. You told me you had a girlfriend. You dropped it into the conversation a propos of nothing. That should have clued me in right there that you weren't interested, but I just—I just needed—"

"You don't have to explain," I said.

"Have you ever been dumped?"

"No."

"It fucks with your head! Things between me and Tom weren't even BAD. They were going well. Too well, it turns out. It started to feel inevitable that we were going to wind up together. Get married, k**s, happily ever after. And all of a sudden he started freaking out that he'd only ever had sex with one girl. Like he was entitled to some macho right of passage, fucking all kinds of women before he was forced to settle down."

"This guy dumped you because he liked you too much?"

"I know! What kind of sense does that make? And ever since then I've been going crazy trying to figure out what the hell is going on with me. I'm not even acting like myself! I mean, look at you—I was throwing myself at you, even after you said you were in a relationship. What kind of trampy bitch does that? I've never done that ever in my life."

"Hey, I wasn't exactly complaining."

Fifteen minutes later, we'd finished making our amends and were back at the pool with Claire, cooling down in the chlorinated water. Claire had forgiven me, Sonya had forgiven me, and now Tami had forgiven me. Everything was finally right in the world.

Well, everything except the fact that I couldn't take my eyes off those two girls as they splashed around in their itty-bitty bikinis.

"So, did you tell your girlfriend about it?" Claire asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, but—actually, could you guys do me a favor? Would you mind meeting her? Like on webcam?"

"Why?" Tami joked, "so she can hire an assassin to hunt me down?"

"Look, I know it's a weird request, but if she just saw how sexy the two of you are, I think it'd score me a lot of points in the forgiveness department. Let her know just what kind of temptation I was up against."

Both women rolled their eyes. They exchanged some sort of psychic communication between themselves, and then Claire turned to me and said, "Might be awkward, but why not? She's gonna be our neighbor in a few weeks, anyway. We may as well get this out of the way before we have to see her in the flesh."

That evening, I brought my laptop over to their apartment and set it down on the coffee table, so that Sonya could see all three of us sitting on the couch. We waited nervously while the computer started up, and then suddenly Sonya's beautiful face was filling the screen, her eyes bugging out in surprise. I quickly made the introductions:

"Hi Sonya. This is Tami and Claire, your future neighbors. Ladies—this is Sonya, my girlfriend."

The three women self-consciously waved at one another.

"You are REALLY pretty," Tami said at last, breaking the ice.

"Me?" Sonya cried, "You two are like, I mean damn. Michael's description did not do you guys justice."

Luckily, Sonya was so funny and energetic, she put the other girls quickly at ease. By the time we disconnected the session, everybody almost seemed like old friends. I guess it shouldn't have been that surprising—they were all terrific people, after all—but still, under the admittedly unusual circumstances...

"Fuck, Michael!" Tami elbowed me in the ribs. "That chick is, like, a world-class hottie! Last week I was all jealous of her, but now I'm more jealous of YOU."

Claire nodded in agreement, "Yeah, she seems—wait, Tami, what do you mean 'jealous?'"

"Oh, just ignore me. I'm lonely and horny and frustrated. I don't know what I'm saying."

I had to fight the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all—there was genuine lust in Tami's eyes! Some part of her actually found my girlfriend attractive, which meant that she probably found other women attractive, as well...

I secretly gave Claire a look that urged, "tell her!" but all I got in response was a quick shake of the head. That girl was never goi