Chapter 3: Learning Together

Fran and Sheila nodded, agreeing that we should talk about where our relationship would wander from that morning.

To get things started and out in the open, I speculated, “I gathered from a few of the scenes I took in last night that the two of you have been intimate with each other before, right?”

Fran nodded, “Since we were fifteen. We experimented then, and liked the result so we continued. We don’t do it too often, but I love our physical contact and the pleasure we bring each other. We’re very close.” She paused, “Last night, however, was the first time I’d ever gone down on her after she had cum in her pussy.”

Sheila said, “More than what you saw, we love each other.” She reached across and stroked Fran’s hand. “Sure, we get pissed off at each other, but underneath the day-to-day crap that might bother us, we have a base of love. We share nothing genetically because we came from different marriages, so it really is sapphic love.”

Fran jumped in, “But we really love men. Don’t think we’re hard-over lesbians or man haters. Far from it. We’ve always liked guys and dated and tried to build special relationships. You’re the first man who knows about our feelings for each other, and that ... I guess we’re going to share. Ally doesn’t know any of this stuff about us.”

I asked, “Do you want to share or is this going to damage the relationship the two of you have? I don’t want to see that happen. I’d never forgive myself if I caused a rift between you two.”

Fran said, “I think this is a grand experiment that we started last night. I’d like to see where we go from here.”

Sheila nodded.

“I have a rather bold proposal for the two of you.” I watched to be sure I had their undivided attention. “Why don’t you both move in with me? This place is bigger than either of your apartments, and living together would put this threesome to a test.”

“A test?”

I said, “Well, we proved our sexual compatibility last night, but how do we do at sharing living space together, or household chores, or me? How do we react to the way we are when we’re not on a date, when we’re less glamorous than at our best? We’d start to form an identity as a triad, and we could see how people respond to that and whether we want to tolerate that for a longer time period. If we argue, we’ll be here face to face, and have to deal with the issue in a constructive way instead of not answering a text or the telephone; we’d build communication skills. We’d have to share things we wouldn’t think about, for instance who gets control of the TV remote or incoming mail or what not?”

Sheila said with a laugh, “If we get more serious with each other, living together means that there isn’t much of a jump to a marriage or any of the traditions that go with it. I mean what would the proposal look like, and to whom, both of us?”

I said in an equal tone but a smile, “I just did propose. I’ve already stopped all other dating. I’d concentrate on my relationship with each of you – with both of you – maybe forever. If it’s not working for one of us, I think we’ll all know because we’ll be so close to each other. We’ll feel each other’s subtle vibes. We won’t be able to hide in this place.

“Maybe we build in certain decision points where we have to vote to continue or break apart for some reason, but we do it then with less hurt or resentment. For instance, if we start today, we sit like this in two weeks and again a month from today and say where we are, what we’re feeling, and whether we want to continue. We do it again a month after that, and so on.”

“So, we’d keep our apartments for a while?”

“At least for a couple of months to see where we are and whether we can stand each other,” I posited.

Sheila turned to her sister and said, “What will Mom and Dad say, or Allison?”

Fran grimaced briefly. “Well, they did sort of encourage us to keep dating, although I think they were figuring Steve would decide to get serious with one of us after a while. On the other hand, maybe we just don’t tell them.”

Sheila spoke, “No, I think they should know. We’re almost thirty, so it’s not like we’re not thinking this through, right? We just explain that we’re experimenting.”

Fran said with a hint of sarcasm, “Yeah, experimenting with our emotions and sexuality.”

I added, “Well, I would hope we don’t have to share our sex life with them.”

Sheila said, “Sooner or later, one or both of us will have to say a few words about some of what goes on in the bedroom to our mom. She won’t let that topic pass unaddressed.”

“How will you tell her about your own sexual interactions?”

Fran burst out laughing. “Good question. I have no idea, but we’ll have to think about that. In fact, I want to think about all of this for at least a few hours. Can we make the decision over dinner instead of breakfast when I’m still clouded over by the great sex we had last night.”

“Sure.”

“And after the great sex we’re going to have right now?” Sheila speculated.

Three smiles broke out around the table. After dumping the dishes in the sink to soak, we went back to the bedroom.

Sex in the daytime is completely different from sex at night. At night there is some mystery in the dim lighting, romance in the candles that dot the bedroom, and increased passion knowing you’ll end up cuddled up with someone you love after mind-blowing sex. The body fluids can be ignored until the following morning, even enjoyed as you fade to sleep and blissful dreams.

In the daytime, even with a blind drawn, the light is more revealing and more conducive to playing and taking it slow, particularly on a Sunday late morning into early afternoon. This time around the sisters were more engaged, and we were more of a sexual threesome than the night before when I was the focal point. I think we were all aware of each other more, and the effect each of our actions had – the responses, the jerks and twists and writhing and facial looks of joy. We were more handsy and oral. Sheila and Fran actually kissed a couple of times.

Many orgasms later, I held the two girls to my naked body and we panted our way back to earth after a blissful celestial journey.

Sheila said, “This feels so comfortable, and so right.”

Fran agreed, adding, “This is the first time I ever had sex in the daytime. Wow, and Steve, you give the nicest climaxes to a girl.” She kissed my chest.

Sheila said, “There is one thing that bothers me though.”

“What’s that?” Fran and I asked in unison and in worried tones.

“I’m on the wet spot.”

We adjusted position, and then started a second round of showers. It would have been romantic to shower with each of the girls, however, my shower runs into a tub, there is little water flow, and only one person can get wet at a time. Realism prevailed.

In the afternoon, we went to the girl’s apartments so they could change into casual clothes and then walked down to the waterfront and prowled into some of the boutique stores doing early Christmas shopping despite the fact that the holiday was five months away. We held hands. We held each other. We smooched back and forth without caring if people saw me kissing two women. We were giddy. We were in love.

We stopped on the way home and picked up Chinese takeout dinners. We gathered around my kitchen table again, and started our meal.

I turned to Fran, “So what did you think about the past twenty-four hours?”

She smiled. “Well, we could have foregone the drama when we all discovered we were dating each other. That said, you need a bigger bed, a better shower, and a place we can do laundry inside the apartment. If we keep this up we’re going to have soiled sheets every day for a while.”

Sheila joined in, “I’ve been thinking too. My epiphany this afternoon involved the word commitment. By moving in with Steve, we’re talking about trying on our commitment to one another. Now, Fran and I are committed because we were raised together, so really what we’re trying, in parallel, is our commitment to Steve and his commitment to each of us. We each have needs that are different, and we commit to each other to help meet those needs – both the feminine needs we sisters will have and Steve’s male needs. When we live together with commitment that means we start to consult each other about our schedules, our careers, our other friends and when we see them, and other choices we make, even as simple as which takeout food to bring home.”

Fran and I were nodding as Sheila talked.

Sheila continued, “Steve, this morning I said I love you, but you didn’t reply in kind. I don’t know what to make of that. For me, living together is a commitment to unconditional love. You’d never say, ‘I’ll love you if... ‘ You just love me the way I am, warts and all. This doesn’t mean we won’t nudge each other to be better people in every way we can, but I want those nudges to be seen as the result of my love for each of you and not as me being a nag over petty things.”

I wanted to explain my thoughts about love that morning, but Sheila held her hand up.

She went on, “I have spent most of my life with Fran, and all added together about a hundred hours with you Steve. In that time, you have become my favoritest man in the world. Right now, I don’t need the words, I want the actions from each of you that signal that you love me. The words can come later. My vote is that, yes, we move in together.”

I saw a tear in the corner of her eye. I got up and knelt by her chair and hugged her. I kissed away the tear.

Fran said softly, “You two are so beautiful together.”

I held my arm out. Fran got up and knelt beside me and we did a group hug. After a few seconds, Fran said, “I vote to be with you guys. I can’t imagine a happier situation than to live together. I buy into everything my sister just said.”

The rest of dinner addressed the logistics of moving two women with full closets into my small apartment. We solved the immediate problem by me removing my winter clothing, some seldom used sports equipment, and piling it up in a corner of the living room. We figured we’d store that at one of girls’ apartments as a temporary measure.

After dinner, we drove to each girl’s apartment, dropped my stuff off at Sheila’s, and picked up enough clothes and cosmetics to last a few days. I left it to Fran and Sheila as to how they wanted to divvy up the remaining space in the apartment between them. I was curious about how they’d work it out. Almost immediately there was a need for more shelf space in the bathroom and table space for makeup. We started a list of things to get.