Fmf Menage

by Amber Ward

  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 neighbours. 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 your 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 draped 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 co-workers, 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, T
ami stepped out into the hallway, towelling 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 towelled 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 girlfriends 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 lasagne I smell cooking?

  Turns out, Claire could cook a mean lasagne. 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 pyjamas."

  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 pyjamas.

  "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."