The Phases of One's Life
Copyright© 2026 by N.D.Tomes
Chapter 7: Janice Meets Bud, Lou, and Problem Solved – Janice I .2 – Multiple Days
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 7: Janice Meets Bud, Lou, and Problem Solved – Janice I .2 – Multiple Days - A controlled corporate attorney wakes tied to her own bed by a naked stranger who knows her name and claims it’s “for your own good.” The young woman has been quietly tangled in her life for months—leaving signs, steering events, and creating a strange current between them. What follows is a tense night of revelations about the firm, the last six months, and unsettling supernatural abilities. Dry, first-person, focused on the emotional shift more than explicit detail.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Fa/ft Consensual Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Humor Group Sex Interracial Black Female White Male White Female Oriental Female Hispanic Female First Masturbation Oral Sex
The months since we viewed the apartment flew by. My thoughts on Kate and Daphne were overshadowed by pressing financial issues. My rental agreement was expiring, and with my finances in their current state, I couldn’t afford to stay. The options for new accommodations were limited to places I wouldn’t describe as appealing.
Over those months I went on several shopping excursions with Kate and Daphne. Even Rachel came along on a few. These outings were enjoyable, filled with laughter and camaraderie — a much-needed distraction.
It was so relaxing being around Kate and Daphne. Over that time I felt myself changing. Even Rachel seemed to be changing. The shopping trips were fun. I was really drawn to these women. When we walked or sat talking Daphne would constantly touch whoever she was talking to. On your arm, on your leg. Nothing sexual, or I should say, overtly sexual. She would not hesitate to take your hand or wrap her arm in yours and lead you away to look at something. Then keep hold while discussing the item. I’d done that with other women. It felt different with this group.
I knew I was changing when on one of the final trips, Rachel was with us. She had a thing for really fine leather wing chairs. We were all at a shop when I spotted a red leather wing chair with fancy carved legs. Instinctively grabbing Rachel’s arm in mine I led her over to the chair. Normally another woman’s breast pressing into my arm would not register. But since Kate and Daphne things have changed. As we examined the chair I actually started leaning into her. By that I mean pressing my arm into her breast. In my head I start to compare to what Kate’s ample breasts might feel like. Rachel was rather busty in herself. She was a fuller figured woman, not on the slender side like Kate. Kate’s breasts would be more prominent on her body type.
At that last thought I froze and stared straight ahead. The thought of what’s wrong with me ran through my head when I realized I was comparing other women’s bodies the same way a man would. More than that I realized I’m a ‘boob man’ or ‘boob woman’. Rachel saw my blank stare “You okay” she asked. That snapped me out of it. “I’m fine, just remember something at work I forgot to do.”
Pressing herself against me harder “It’s the weekend. Forget about work.” She then released me, put her arm around my waist and led us back to Daphne and Kate examining lamps. Her breast was again pressed against my arm.
During those months, there was a change in Kate. It was gradual, but noticeable. She really hid her figure at work, especially her bust. Blouses were always buttoned up, only the topmost button undone. Her blazers were always loose-fitting and they never came off. We started having lunch together most days. When we ordered in, we would eat in her office. Over the next couple of months, first the blazer came off, then one button, then two were undone. There was more than just a hint of cleavage and a bra when she reached across the desk for another spring roll, or whatever we were having that day.
I came to enjoy those lunches — they helped take my mind off my financial troubles. I’m not sure what she thought we were doing, but I found myself more and more drawn to them, and her. I would bend over her desk to retrieve a condiment, letting my blouse fall forward. I actually spent money I didn’t have on some very nice bras and panties sets. In the back of my mind I knew why they needed to match.
The last few weeks — or even a month — before Kate and Daphne actually moved in, I was at a desperate low. I was so distracted Kate could have been naked during one of our later lunches and I probably wouldn’t have noticed. I was frantically looking for a new place I actually liked, having given up on finding a roommate.
Then, one Monday, Kate cornered me in the break room and announced they had moved into their new place, insisting I come over for dinner. I started to make excuses — I was in the midst of packing up my apartment, unsure where I’d store the boxes, contemplating a small rundown unit I’d scouted, delaying signing any agreements as long as possible. Kate sensed my hesitation and cut me off before I could elaborate. “No excuses, you’re coming. I’ll come find you when I leave, or you come get me.”
I picked Kate up a couple of minutes after five. When I knocked on her office door, she seemed surprised to see me, then checked her watch and said, “We’d better get going. If I’m late, Daphne will whine all evening. This is the first dinner she’s cooked in the new place.”
I asked if Daphne was expecting me. Kate merely shrugged and said, “She invited you to the first home-cooked dinner.”
“That’s not answering my question,” I pressed.
Kate just smiled as we headed to the elevator. She seemed a little distracted. On the walk to her new place, I asked if work was going okay. She groaned, saying the BlueForge Maritime acquisition of TideCore Systems had some unintended consequences. I said I hadn’t heard rumors of problems — only that the deal had fallen through and the higher-ups seemed happy about it. Kate nodded, saying she couldn’t share details, but it was a good thing. The issue was that Jason Dahl, BlueForge’s CEO, had been impressed with her work and was talking her up to other companies. Now they were all calling. Jason always mentioned her name, so she kept getting invited to new client meetings — exhausting when she still had her regular work to get done. Plus her responsibilities were changing. “We’ll talk later,” she said, rubbing her temple, as we reached the building entrance.
She pulled out her phone to hold it by a scanner, but a doorman opened the door first. “Good evening, Miss Daniels,” he said. Kate replied, “How is your evening, William?” He escorted us to the concierge desk, where I showed another man my driver’s license. He greeted Kate as “Miss Daniels” too; Kate greeted him as Robert. After a moment at his computer, he handed my license back. As we walked away, he called, “Tell Miss Daphne thank you for the cookies.” Kate laughed. “She’ll have you all weighing three hundred pounds if you’re not careful.” Both men chuckled.
On the way to the elevator, Kate broke out her phone again, but Robert called out, “That’s okay, Miss Daniels, you’re all set.” Kate called back over her shoulder with a smile, “Thank you!”
On the ride up, Kate explained the building was nearly complete now and they were activating all the security. “You get used to it quickly,” she added.
When we reached the apartment, Kate pushed the door open — it wasn’t locked or even fully closed. Before I could say anything, Kate called out, “I’m home, and I brought Janice.” Suddenly Daphne appeared, panic-stricken, hands covering her backside as she backed against the wall. “I said I was sorry! Really, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!” she pleaded.
I fought back a smile. Kate looked puzzled for a second, then caught on, frowning at Daphne. “Stop it,” she snapped.
Still pressed against the wall, Daphne turned to me, mock fear in her eyes. “She’s always threatening me every time she doesn’t get her way. ‘You want me to invite Janice over?’”
“I do not,” Kate shot back, shaking her head.
I joined in, teasing. “Kate is always complaining at work, saying she should invite me over to introduce me to your backside.”
Daphne, vindicated, pointed at Kate. “I knew it!”
“Great, gang up on me,” Kate grumbled, heading toward the master bedroom saying she was going to change. “I only promised never to spank Daphne...”
That sent Daphne and me into peals of laughter. All my problems melted away in their company. Daphne approached with a mischievous grin. “You lucky girl,” she said, pulling me into a long hug, her lips brushing the corner of my mouth in a kiss that felt both friendly and intimate. Unfazed, she asked if I’d help in the kitchen. I smiled. “Lead on.” She took my hand, guiding me toward the kitchen.
It was then I noticed how youthful Daphne seemed without her usual makeup, her hair tied back in a simple ponytail. Despite the casual look, she exuded a vibe somehow at odds with her youthfuln appearing. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. What ever it was it didn’t bother me, it made me comfortable and drawn to her. I told myself her tight shorts and sheer — yet not transparent — top had nothing to do with it.
Kate, on the other hand, dressed conservatively at work, hiding her figure, but our hugs had revealed her ample bust, letting my imagination run wild. Why was I thinking this way? Ever since that evening when we’d looked at this place, I frequently found my thoughts drifting toward Kate, then Daphne, then both. I like men — I had a boyfriend, or rather an ex-boyfriend, a cheating, lowlife scumbag. Perhaps my recent lack of companionship was making me appreciate the company of Kate and Daphne. Though new friends, I felt an unexpected comfort around them — welcoming and kind. Plus, it had been a while since I’d had sex...
While assigned to cut vegetables, my mind wandered between thoughts of the two women — one woman and one girl, as I hadn’t quite decided about Daphne. My reverie was interrupted when Kate sauntered into the kitchen wearing low-slung sweatpants and a zip-front hoodie that was doing a wonderful job of accenting her ample bosom — displaying almost as much as it covered. I’d suspected she was fit, but her flat stomach hinting at a six-pack caught me off guard. Her arms and shoulders seemed well-toned. You could never tell any of this from her conservative office dress. Even her walk seemed different — her hips were really swaying and her rock-hard butt was moving, nothing like the clipped, no-nonsense efficiency of her office gait. Gone was the tight bun; her hair was now in a loose braid with strands surrounding her face. I caught myself staring, almost open-mouthed, and quickly turned back to the vegetables.
My thoughts scattered, I mechanically continued chopping, not really engaging in conversation. The first coherent thought that returned was: I’m not a lesbian. I started repeating it like a mantra.
Daphne’s slightly annoyed tone snapped me out of it. She was telling Kate not to worry about something. Kate was about to reply when I interrupted, “What are you talking about?”
Daphne explained that Kate was worrying about her old apartment. She didn’t want to sell it and worried about renting it because all her furniture was still there — furniture she didn’t want to put in storage because a lot of it had been in the family for years. Kate jumped in, saying she’d originally planned to bring the furniture here, but Daphne — her tone dripping sarcasm — had decided to furnish the entire place without telling her. They started bickering about the furniture and Kate’s old place. It was something to see Kate like this. The Kate I’d known when I first started at the firm had been all prim and proper. Even now, glimpses of that version showed up at the office. But this — bickering with Daphne about furniture, hands on her hips, hair loose — this was someone else entirely. Not to mention she looked like the bombshell lead in a campy cult classic. Listening to her bicker with Daphne — all very good-natured — was quite the show. I had the impression the winner would be whoever made the other laugh first. Then they would hug and kiss ... and what was wrong with me? Why was I thinking like that? Every time I’d seen them together they acted like the most platonic of friends. It was me, I thought. I really needed to get laid.
I had to interrupt — I was ready to break out laughing. Daphne was as sharp as Kate, and I knew Kate was damn smart. I started laughing at the two of them and yelled, “STOP!” They stopped and looked at me with matching puzzled expressions. Before I could say anything, Daphne said, “I’ve got it. Janice can take your place.”
Kate replied, “She already has a place.”
“She’s moving soon — you need to pay attention when other people talk,” Daphne said. Kate was about to reply when Daphne cut across her, asking me, “Have you signed anything yet?”
I replied, “No,” getting excited about the direction of the conversation.
Kate scoffed and asked Daphne, “What’s she going to do with her furniture?”
I immediately jumped in — I was moving from a furnished place and didn’t have any furniture. I didn’t say anything about the dump I’d planned on moving to.
Daphne declared, “It’s settled. Janice can move into your old place.”
I asked, “How much?”
Kate was about to respond when Daphne interrupted, sarcastically saying, “Please — she’ll pay you, if you promise to take care of her precious furniture and priceless artwork.” Kate gave her a scathing look and was about to say something when Daphne interrupted again. “If she doesn’t pay you, I’ll pay you. It’ll be worth it to not hear her whining about that place anymore.”
It was unusual to see Kate deferring to anyone — especially someone as young as Daphne.
Kate looked sternly at Daphne, then turned to me. “The place is an investment. So if you take care of the place, the association fees, taxes, utilities, and such it yours. Take care of the furniture — you can move in. Just remember to use coasters.”
Daphne waved her hands in the air, drawing out the words. “Coasters — don’t forget COASTERS.”
Kate continued, ignoring Daphne, “But if a certain person drives me too nuts” — nodding at Daphne — “I’m moving back in.
I knew, depending on the building, those taxes and fees could run more than rent on a decent place. And I couldn’t afford a decent place in a decent location. Kate told me the number. Then she told me the location. Then I told her the number was BS. I knew the location.
She rolled her eyes at me and told me the number were accurate. If I wanted she could produce the paperwork. She told me the building was one of the older buildings in the area, but perfectly maintained. There were zero amenities. No pool or spa or gym, just excellent apartments. At the time she bought it the price was a steal.
I felt she was being entirely sincere. Relenting, I shrugged and said that would actually work for me. I didn’t like the other place I’d been looking at anyway—the imaginary dump, I thought to myself.
Kate asked when I could move in. I said, “Immediately. Tomorrow.” She let out a sigh. “Great.” Then added she’d just remembered earlier she’d left food in the place.
Daphne declared it a done deal, opening a bottle of wine. She poured three glasses and we toasted.
I was relieved. Kate seemed happy. Daphne was her usual self. Kate and I finished the kitchen tasks Daphne had assigned us. Daphne finished the cooking while Kate and I chatted. I was in a much better mood than I’d been in for months.
Dinner was wonderful. We didn’t sit at the dining room table—we sat at the kitchen island counter, chatting and laughing. It was nothing fancy, but very delicious. We started with a salad loaded with a generous assortment of toppings. When Daphne asked what dressing I’d like, I asked, “What kinds do you have?” Kate groaned, interrupting. Shaking her head, she said it would be quicker if I just asked for something. I asked for blue cheese.
Daphne replied, “Chunky or creamy?”
Kate let out a moan. “See what I mean...”
Smiling, I told Daphne, “Chunky.”
Daphne brought over a bottle and placed it in front of me with a spoon. She placed another in front of Kate, knowing her preference. Smiling at me, she said, “We only have chunky — I just like messing with her.” Kate groaned and I laughed.
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