I thought leaving this up would cause a conflict with my publisher. Turns out, IT DOESN'T! So here's St Andrews Place in all of it's original typo filled glory. Give me some time to post the whole thing, but I will.
The A/Ns are the same. Sorry if they don't make sense.
Chapter 1: More Than Friends
Disclaimer: Versions of these characters belong to Stephenie Meyer in another time and place. I am making them have lesbian sex with each other.
The only epic A/N: So here's the deal. This is my last story. Life is actually happening to me and I sorta have to tend to it. Here are some things you should know.
- I will not be finishing my other stories (I don't think), but they all had HEAs with the suspected couplings. Reread Breaking Dawn if you were curious about the end of Baby Steps.
- My Jake and Nessie will live on forever in my heart, my imagination and frequently during private meetings I have with my crotch.
- This story is finished. I will not divert from what is already down in the doc, no matter what reviews or comments I get, assuming I get any.
- This story is entirely Femslash. If you are not okay with that then turn right back around.
- I use the word "pussy" gratuitously. Yeah.
- I will post two chapters every week.
- And yes, there is music, porn and pics that go along with each chapter.
Thank you so much to the ladies of the PP, Irene, Jenny, Roro, Tig, Yos, Christina, Lili (wherever the fuck you are), and Mila. You ladies have been nothing short of amazing. I also need to thank my bf T for not kicking me out of the house after I my have let my Twi obsession get a little out of control.
And Finally a HUGE thank you to Erica/Acireamos, the best beta and shit talker in the world. This story wouldn't have happened if it without your help.
Em, Steph, Aiden and ERICA (you cry baby!)... this is for you.
Chapter 1: More Than Friends
why must we pretend… let's be more than friends…
The house was gorgeous. Not too far from my new teaching gig. How could I not send them an email?
For a month I had been searching for the perfect place and something about this house felt so right.
In two weeks time, I would pack up all my stuff here in Phoenix and start my new position, my life, in Los Angeles. My mom worried about me moving to a strange city with no friends or family nearby, but she had faith in me. Yeah, I was a little shy, but I knew how to make friends and keep them. She had nothing to worry about. This was the right move and everything would be just fine. If I could only settle on a place to live.
I had two requirements. No psychos and... my roommates had to be cool or at least not question my sexuality. I was - openly bi-sexual, for a lack of a better term. My parents knew. Mom and my step-dad, Phil were cool with it. Mom was a total hippie and I wouldn't doubt for a moment if she'd given females a try once or twice. My dad, Charlie was fine with the fact that I played for both teams, but I think he was more confused about what that all meant. Either way I wanted to have roommates that wouldn't be weirded out if I brought a girl home at any point.
I had replied to several posts online, but there was one in particular that had me anxious for an answer. The post on CraigsList was short and simple. Three girls around my age looking for another roommate for their four bedroom craftsman near Hancock Park, a gorgeous neighborhood placed a perfect distance between Downtown Los Angeles and Beverly Hills. All three were non-smokers, social drinkers. They didn't have any pets, but they were open to cats and friendly dogs. I had neither, just a collection of books and kitchen gadgets.
One of the roommates had included pictures of the exterior of the house, one of the kitchen, the living room and the available bedroom and bathroom. I would be sharing a bathroom, but I didn't care. The house was perfect. I just hoped that the girls were all normal, or at least if they weren't, I hoped they were busy enough that we wouldn't get in each others way.
In my email I told them a little bit about myself, about my new position teaching ninth grade English at the Loyola High School, about my sleeping and lack of partying habits, when I expected to move in and about my sexual orientation. I kept it relatively short and sweet, only divulging the necessary information. After a thorough proof reading I hit send.
I was anxious. I hoped to hear back from them soon. I wanted this part of it to be over with. I still had so much to do and only two weeks to do it. I made lunch. I let my mom's dog, Ty out. I took my truck for an oil change. And throughout the day I only checked my email six times. I had gotten a few replies, but they were all from people that just weren't sitting right with me. The three med school students who had quiet hours every night, the two girls who actually turned out to be two guys and of course the one girl who admitted to being on her fifth roommate in three months. Maybe I could have dealt with the med students, but something told me their neurotic habits would do little for my mental health. I wanted to live in that house. I wanted to live with the girls on St. Andrews Place.
Around eight that night, while I was cleaning the dinner dishes, my blackberry chirped at me.
Her reply was kind of long and there was a large file attached. I pulled out my MacBook to thoroughly investigate.
My roommates and I were pleased to see your reply. I will cut right to the chase. The three of us have a very particular living arrangement. Alice, Leah and I are lovers. Our fourth roommate Emily was also involved in a sexual relationship with the three of us. She had to leave to return to Washington State to care for her ailing grandmother. We miss her dearly and are searching for someone to not only pick up her part of the rent, but also assume her position in our relationship.
I understand this is an interesting proposition and in spite of your sexual orientation, I also fully understand if you feel this is something you do not want to be a part of.
Attached is a picture of the three of us. I am the blond, Alice is the little one and Leah is the one in black. Sleep on it please, and if this is something you are interested in, do email me back with a photo of yourself. We are both on a tight schedule, and I would love to get this sorted out as soon as possible. If you want to pass, the both of us clearly have more searching to do. I look forward to hearing from you.
Best, Rosalie Hale
I looked at the picture of three gorgeous girls. With her bright blue eyes, Rosalie was a tall blond, suitable for nothing less than a life on the runway. Alice was small and beautiful with black hair in an adorable pixie cut, bright hazel eyes and a contagious smile. And then there was Leah, a Native American beauty, almost as tall as Rosalie with high cheek bones, full lips and tough exterior. I stared at the picture for while, but my gaze lingered on her face the longest. There was something more in her dark brown eyes.
I could tell the the photo had been cropped. There was another arm of a fourth person looped around Leah's waist. I could only guess that the mystery arm belonged to their last roommate, Emily.
I sunk back in my chair, my mind racing. Was I really considering this? Apparently, but could I go through with it? Could I really sleep with my roommates no questions asked? Of course I'd enjoyed the time I'd spent women, but it never occurred to me to seek out the sexual company of women… on a permanent basis. And of course it would be permanent, but I liked guys. A few of them had even liked me back. Something in the tone of Rosalie's email told me that this relationship was based on a "monogamous" agreement, that I would probably be restrict to sleeping with them and only them.
Could I really agree to living with the these girls and everything that went along with it?
I stared at the picture. There was something about them. They were all so beautiful and even through a photograph they exuded this confident, alluring sexuality. It was like some weird fantasy come to life. Images of them naked and wet, bodies covering mine, flashed through my head. The idea of kissing any of them, having them touch me, possibly all at the same time, was incredibly erotic.
I stood quickly and started pacing around my bedroom. The hours passed. I drank some tea. I took a shower. I paced some more just staring at the screen. Staring at the three girls.
I dug up the cutest photo I could find: me, on the beach in Mexico with Mom. I attached it and hit send. Fifteen minutes later my blackberry chirped with a reply.
So it begins. I have a friend who lives in a craftsmen house on St. Andrews, and yes his house was inspiration for the setting. that i know of he does not hold lesbian orgies there. that i know of.
Like most of my stories it will be porn with a plot, girl on girl porn with a plot and lots of making out, tribbing and yes sandwiches.