The Singles, Chapter 5

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***Please note: this chapter is a continuation of The Singles, Chapter 4, and is not intended to stand on its on. Reading the preceding chapter first is strongly recommended.***


I woke up in the morning half-certain that it had been a dream. Imogen attacking me in the hot tub, followed by Melissa sneaking into my bedroom to finish me off with a wonderfully slow and intimate fuck? No one's that lucky.

I winced as the scratches on my back scraped against the sheets. Imogen really happened, at least, I thought to myself. It had been quite a surprise. After Melissa had headed to bed, my curvy redheaded housemate had suddenly become quiet and uncertain, which was itself highly unusual; her mouth was usually on autopilot when it came to small talk. Still, there we sat, my arm around her shoulders, her head resting against me, one hand gently stroking my thigh, creating an almost painful hardness between my legs. It had been at least fifteen minutes before she spoke.

"Melissa told me I was free to make use of you as I pleased," she had finally said, half to me, half to herself. "With no commitments or complications." She raised her head and our eyes met. "The phrase 'helluva good fuck' came up as well. I'm tired of playing with myself every other night; fingers and toys just can't replace the real thing." My cock had twitched and I'd almost lost it right there at the way she talked about toys. Her hand had finally found my shaft at that point, and she stroked it carefully, as if she barely remembered what to do with it. "It's been three years since a man has taken me properly," she said boldly. I want you. Now."

Imogen had been unbelievable. Sexy. Sensual. Aggressive. Passionate. As her arousal built, she made the most amazing sounds, a moan reaching almost a siren pitch, and when she came, her movements were violent enough to potentially cause injury. Luckily I had survived with my manhood still attached, and gouges on my back as a reminder. I definitely hoped it wouldn't be a one-time thing; a guy like me could get used to a steady diet of Imogen.

Melissa was the dream. I had just settled in and was starting to doze when the door had opened and I'd heard someone enter. My first thought had been that it was Imogen coming for another round. The last person I had expected was Melissa; we hadn't slept together in almost three weeks, ever since our argument about living arrangements. Something incredibly special followed. I only hoped it had actually happened.

Turns out that whatever pleasant dreams I'd had that night, Melissa hadn't been one of them. When I wandered into the kitchen in my robe, Melissa was already there, dressed in only an apron, making pancakes. I'm not sure which looked and smelled better. A lingering hug and kiss from her settled any doubts about what had actually happened that night.

"You look pleased with yourself this morning," she told me with a wink. "I think someone had a good night last night."

"I did indeed," I answered her. "Wait, I thought you had a lot to do today."

"Well, yeah," she confessed. "But someone kept me up late last night, and I overslept. So I skipped my yoga class and postponed all my morning stuff, so we have the morning to ourselves. Imogen was especially cheerful this morning too, in case you were wondering."

"Glad to hear it," I answered. "Last night you said something about..."

She blushed crimson. "I couldn't sleep, so I was going to hop back into the tub for a bit longer. But you guys were...busy. God, how that turned me on though. Made me realize how much I missed being with you like that too, which is why I went to visit you after you guys went back to your own rooms. I don't know what I'd have done if you'd both gone back to the same room."

"Well, I'm glad you stopped by," I told her, giving her another squeeze.

"Oh, one more thing," she added as she loaded up my plate. "I got a response to our roommate ad." We had placed a classified ad when we closed the deal on the house, after realizing we had space for way more than just three people. A couple more would make the house feel more lived-in.

"That's great," I answered, sitting down with my plate. Pancakes were a wonderful surprise first thing in the morning.

"Her name's Audrey," Melissa continued, putting away the apron and joining me at the table. I couldn't help admiring the way her perky tits jiggled as she ate. "She's coming by tomorrow to see the place."

"Tomorrow? We're supposed to be going to the beach tomorrow, remember?"

"She's coming early. We'll still be out of here in good time. Hopefully she'll be a good fit for the house."

The ad had specified that we were looking for "mature housemates, must be single and open-minded". We didn't want couples or people with committed partners spoiling the "singles" experience we were trying to build. We also didn't want a bunch of college-age kids either; we had outgrown the teen/tween silliness that seemed so prevalent with so-called "adults" nowadays. Or some boring prude who would stifle our attempts at fun.

"Well, she didn't say anything about the stated requirements, but at least she doesn't talk like a teenager. We'll see when she gets here I guess."

The conversation turned to more general topics as we finished our pancakes. A discussion of what was next in terms of renovations
(Melissa had discussed some ideas with Imogen earlier, which she now shared with me). I was going to be spending a few days with my kids, so she would be in charge of directing the contractors. All too soon, she had to leave to get in at least a half day at work, and I had volunteered to run a number of household errands that afternoon, so we got dressed and went our separate ways.

The following morning was bright and sunny, promising another hot, beautiful day at the beach. A flurry of activity ensued as we scr

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Written by drunkenhunk
Uploaded February 12, 2021
Notes A new potential housemate drops by to check out the house; a trip to the beach has an unexpected ending.
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