Christy greeted me as I walked through the front door, “Welcome home, stranger; sticking around long, or just dropping off some laundry for me?”

“Good afternoon, both actually. I have to get ready for a big week at the steakhouse, starting with inventory early tomorrow, so I’m home for the night. I’ll set this back on the washing machine?” I replied, referring to the bag of dirty laundry in my right hand. My not-so-new relationship continued to develop and deepen, and I was spending much more time at her house these days; I had not seen Christy in almost a week. She looked sexy as hell, sitting on the couch in her boy shorts and, “Hey, are you wearing one of my t-shirts?”

Glancing down towards her chest, as we both noticed she was also not wearing a bra, she admitted, “Yes, sorry. I missed you being around, and I had to do something to make it feel like you were here. Do you want me to take it off?”

“Yes, immediately.”

“Oh, don’t you wish,” she fired back, beginning to rise from the couch and head to her room.

“I’m kidding, you’re fine. I wear your boy shorts whenever you go and stay with your mom for the same reason.” Heading back to the laundry I yell, “Hey, I’m going to cook a nice dinner, should I cook for two?”

“Please, I’ve missed your delicious food,” she hollered back, “we need to catch up anyway.”

We needed to do a little more than catch up, actually. My girlfriend and I had reached a pivotal point in our relationship, her lease was coming up at the end of the month, and she had to make a decision. I had offered her to take the next step in our romantic endeavor by asking her to move in with me. She agreed, and in four weeks, she would be calling this place home. Christy had to go.

The two of them got along fine, but the first time my girlfriend came to the house, it was Christy who greeted her at the door. Being immediately behind Christy, I was able to stop her as she backed off the porch, heading to her car.

“Whoa, whoa, where are you going?” I begged.

“It looks like you already have enough cute blondes here, I don’t need to get involved with any bullshit, Bo.”

After convincing her there was no bullshit by explaining our living arrangement, and confirming at least three times that there was no sex involved, she settled down, and I introduced her to Christy. Everything has been fine since, but her assessment then still rang true; my place was only big enough for one cute blonde at a time. Now, I had to break the news to the one currently sitting on my couch.

Christy not only understood but told me that she had been expecting this to happen. She had even been discussing this inevitability with her mother, who lives over in the valley. Her plan was to stay with her mom for a few months while she figured out a more permanent solution. She was genuinely happy for me, and as we finished our plates of shrimp scampi, she all but congratulated me.

“It’s nice to see you happy and content, Bo. I never thought you would stop chasing girls like it was some sort of sport. I’ll admit, if anyone had been keeping score, you would have been pretty high up on the leaderboard. She must be pretty special, and lucky as hell to have corralled a guy like you.”

“Thanks, Christy, she is. Let me take your plate, I’ll do the dishes tonight.”

That week was a busy one for me, but I still managed to spend as much time with the girlfriend as possible. She is still close with four friends from high school, and they get together once a year. The location rotated each year between their respective hometowns throughout the northwest. That coming weekend it was Seattle, and she would be gone for three nights. Still in the lovebird phase, we squeezed as much bedtime in as we could.

With the week now over, and her on her way to Washington, I had another Friday night to myself. I did stop by the bar for a couple of beers right after work but had no desire to stick around once the evening crowd began to trickle in. Two-point-two miles later, I was surprised to see Christy at home, not getting ready for her usual Friday night out.

“No plans for the night?” I asked walking in, seeing her on the couch in a pair of sweats and another one of my t-shirts.

“No, I need to start saving some money. I can’t believe they want first, last and deposit for rentals; that’s outrageous.” She bemoaned, “What about you? Aren’t you a free man this weekend?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to deal with the downtown scene. I was going to just grab a six-pack and take it easy here on the couch. Thought you would be out having fun. Should I grab two?”

“As long as one of them is six Pabst tall-boys, I’m game.”

When I got back from the store with the beers, Christy was no longer in the living room. Not thinking anything of it, I headed straight for the kitchen to put the six-packs in the fridge, sans one pale ale and one tall-boy. As I was closing the door, Christy appeared from her room looking more like she was ready for a Friday night. Her hair was now down, instead of in the lazy ponytail from earlier, and she seemed to have just a touch of make-up on - she never needs much. Replacing the sweats and t-shirt were a pair of black yoga pants and a red-floral button-down blouse. It didn’t quite match, but she looked great.

“You clean up well. Did you change your mind about going out or something?” I asked, handing her the Pabst.

“No, I had just been in those clothes all day, and thought I would put something nicer on for our living room date.”

“Well, you look great,” I meant, now looking into those sky-blue eyes of hers and noticing the fresh eyeliner. Accepting my compliment, the tinge of pink lipstick became evident when her lips closed into a subtle pucker expression. “Cheers,” I suggested lifting my bottle, “should we find a movie, or put on some music instead?”

“Music,” she opted for, “I’ll set up a playlist.”

Aside – now you might have seen this coming a few paragraphs back, but you also had a subtitle that I didn’t have then. This was honestly the first moment that I had even thought about, let alone realized, what the fuck was about to go down that night. Yes, I was involved in a blossoming relationship with a woman that I cared deeply about, and who was soon to be my live-in partner. But because of that, not in spite of it, this seed needed to be sown, the temptation conquered, and the list, ripped to pieces.

“Make sure you include some Marvin Gaye in there,” I requested, “I think you still owe me a slow dance from the last time.”

Christy and I have spent plenty of nights drinking at home together. More often than not, I would try to instigate something, like the backrub ploy or directing our conversation to blowjobs or anal sex. Besides the drunken night a couple of months ago, the tactic that has come the closest to working was getting her to slow dance. Her tits against my chest, my rock-hard dick rubbing her crotch as much as she wanted, my hands able to drift down to caress that perfect ass of hers. More than once, I thought it was in the bag before she would end the dance abruptly, not allowing herself to cross the point of no return. That night, three beers into the playlist, it was her suggestion.

“A few slow songs are next, shall we dance?”

Her forearms resting on my shoulders, my hands on her hips, we swayed side to side as Etta James euphoniously delivered ‘At Last’. Our chests still parted, we continued exchanging some memorable moments from the last couple of years. There were quite a few. She then pulled herself into me and wrapped her arms around my neck, and we became quiet. My dick began to rub against the thin layer of Lycra covering her crotch. Her C-cup breasts now revealing her increasing level of arousal as her nipples stiffened while buried against my chest. Feeling my cock do the same inside my jeans, she pressed her pussy into me firmly, subtlety raising her hips up and down as it grew between us. The event horizon had been reached.

Her doubt-removing song list advanced to my earlier artist request, and before the first verse of ‘Let’s Get it On’ had finished, I disengaged from our embrace, taking a half-step back. Our eyes quickly met, and as I began to reach for my belt, Christy dropped to her knees and beat me to it. Together, we released my semi-hard cock from confinement, where it was immediately and completely inhaled. I was finally between Christy’s lips, where it rapidly grew to full strength, leading me to grab the sides of her head with both hands and begin to lustfully fuck her mouth with it.

Christy's day chores were done. This night had just started. Hand me the remote…

[To be continued]