tagErotic CouplingsA Passion Play Ch. 01

A Passion Play Ch. 01


This is a copyrighted original work of fiction. All rights reserved.

All characters featured herein are at least eighteen years of age, even if not expressly stated. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Song lyrics contained herein remain the original artist's property.

Many thanks to editor Tom Graham of Girls_cum_first.


If I wasn't such an idiot I'd have had it all sorted out before. I needed a place to stay for my Junior year in the Math's program. I planned on staying with Ron but I screwed up and didn't act in time to get the room.

Donny had a room at his place, but it would have been party central, a crazy hashish Kasbah - 24/7. I'd never get any work done.

But then I talked to my friend Ana. She said there's a basement room in the house where she's staying and it was less money. Was I interested in seeing the room?

Five girls. It would be me and five girls.

Of course I was interested.

So I went to visit the house and check out the room with the intent of possibly staying there. Oh, I recognized that on the one hand I had the prospect of living with a bunch of girls running around in panties and bras, or less. On the other hand, I could be walking into an estrogen concentrated, cackling nightmare.

My tardiness led me to the best year of my life. I landed up staying with the girls.

I went to visit the house on a bright sunny Sunday morning, the day before classes started. Christa answered the door.

She was the mother of the house. She was a doll. Muscular, tight ass, nice boobs, beautiful creamy-pink colored skin, completely blemish free. Although she was fairly short, maybe five-five, she had this physical energy about her, a whirlwind dynamo. Christa's pretty face, grey eyes and a medium length brown ponytail, pulled tightly back, contrasted to the neck veins that had a tendency to pop out when she moved.

My friend Ana was there too.

And Angela.

I saw the room. It was small, in the basement, just at the bottom of the stairs. It had a tiny window, about 6" x 18". That was it, a stuffy little room with a closet.

Still, the prospect of panties running around had my mind rushing. Plus, let's face it, there was a really good possibility that I could land up screwing one or more of the girls during the course of the year.

Christa asserted herself. She broke down the rent money and landlord's rules Nothing much out of the ordinary there. Then she told me her rules.

Clean up after yourself. Contribute to the work. If we are going 'common' for dinner on any particular night, I'm expected to pay my fair cost and do my share of the prep and clean-up. Fair enough I figured.

Christa stuck a finger in my chest and said, "Your bathroom is downstairs. You are not using this bathroom," pointing down the hall, "even though this one is closer, even though you need to pee badly, you're still going downstairs. Got it?"

She continued, "No parties. We have parties and you can bring friends, but I'm not having a bunch of your dickhead nerds hanging around here drinking beer and playing video games.

I'm not having? Shouldn't it have been we're not having?

She went on, "You can have friends over but they are not sleeping on the couch. Whoever stays over sleeps in your room, with you. Got it?"

What a bee-atch. The rules are reasonable but did she have to say it that way? Apparently that was her third year in the house and she had had taken some kind of leadership role in running the place. Whatever.

"I'm good with all that," I told all three girls.

Christa crossed her arms across her -- really nice -- pert tits and said, "Somehow I know I'm going to get crucified for asking this.....so, do you want to take the room?"

"Yeah. Are you ok with that?"

After a pause, "When are going to move in?" she answered.

"Shouldn't the other girls be asked if it's ok before you say ok?

I could tell I was blushing. Christa blushed too.

"Angela darling, will you be ok if Joey stays with us this year?"

Angela broke out laughing and couldn't answer before Christa continued, "Ana, do you have any objections?

"No, not at all," Ana answered with a grin on her face.

"What about the other two girls?"

Christa answered matter-of-factly with her head held high and mighty, "They've left it up to me. They trust my judgment in such matters and we are ok with you moving in."

"Ok, fine. I'll see you tomorrow," I said with a big grin on my face. "Bye," I walked out the door.

Just outside the door I stood for a moment thinking, what have I just done? Then I heard laughter inside the house and Ana's unmistakable Birmingham accent, "Ya I told you," and more laughter.

I'd known Ana - Anahita Chatervedi - for pretty well two years by then. She was in my Math's program at university. She was the smartest person I'd ever met and I was in total awe of her. On several occasions when I struggled with a math concept that the profs, the TA's and the textbooks combined couldn't get me to get my brain around, Ana would walk me through the most bizarre leaps of logic that math can be. Higher math is a queer thing. Either you get it or you don't. It's not just a visualization type of understanding either. We live in three dimensions. But we can't visualize four. We can rationalize it, with effort. How about five dimensions, or ten, or negative pi dimensions. It can get kooky. But not for Ana. That girl was amazing.

Not only was she brilliant at math, always at the top of the class, but on any subject. She was very well read and current, it didn't matter what subject was brought up...middle east politics, latest pop stars, endorphins in the brain, vampire stories, it didn't matter...she knew it all and she could come up with the most esoteric, bizarre stuff even beyond my normal. She could blow my mind. She was a true friend.

She was good looking too. Plus she had a Birmingham (UK ) accent that made her really exotic.

I would have loved to go out with Ana but didn't dare go after her, for a couple reasons. One, I wouldn't do that and risk losing a friendship. If I made a pass at her I'm pretty sure she'd bolt at my affront to her and that would be it. Secondly, she was in a different class altogether. She was already talking about going on and getting her Doctorate. I was sure she'll get it. I was also pretty sure I could see this girl's trajectory in life. No matter what she would land up doing, she was going straight up like a rocket.

I simply didn't have the metal capacity or the charm to keep up with Ana.

Sexy as she was, she had that typical Indian woman look, straight black hair, brown eyes. Maybe it's a cultural thing. I could see her getting old and what may be considered shapely today will become a short, stout Indian woman tomorrow. Plus, she had those wispy almost side burns that some Indian girls have and that faint little moustache thing -- a real turn off for me.

I was dearly fond of her, I was in awe of her, but I knew I wasn't going even going to try to go out with her. She was just not the soul-mate for me.

In those early days Angela turned out to be a great friend too. Angela Immaculatina Maria Delvecchio was hilarious, a natural comedienne. Whichever room she walked into immediately brightened up. With laughter! All Angela. She was a lovely, really nice, sweet person.

And she had massive breasts. Unfortunately, they were sitting on a big belly too and backed by a truly fat ass. She really should have been, like, forty or fifty pounds lighter. She had a pretty face though, sparkling brown eyes, wavy dark brown hair and a lovely smile, albeit with chubby cheeks and a bit of a hooked nose, although that gave her character.

Not only was she funny, she had a twisted mind too.

Angela was a bit of a sad case though. Because she was heavy...she didn't get dates. She'd get all dolled up and go out to clubs with her equally fat Italian heritage friends all smeared with make-up and wearing clothes that they really shouldn't have been wearing. Inevitably she would come home pissed up and disappointed. I felt sad for her. She was trying.

I know she was eager to have me, but there was no way. Sympathy sex just wasn't my bag.

Ah, but then there was Bubbles. Lisa St. James, but I preferred to think of her as Bubbles. She was a walking wet dream. I didn't actually meet her until about a week after I'd moved in. I nearly pissed my pants when I did. She was about five four, blonde... natural blonde...straight hair to just below her shoulders and the cutest face with big, dark blue eyes and a sexy, devilish smile that immediately got my cock twitching every time I saw it. She had a tight, little ass and smallish pert titties which suited her thin frame. All in all she was a blonde, pink, adorable piece of girl candy.

The harsh reality, which I was fully cognizant of, was that girls that cute simply don't go out with guys like me. Not that I'm bad looking. Bubble's could get any guy she wanted and I knew it wasn't going to be me.

I couldn't keep my eyes of Bubbles whenever she was anywhere near me. It didn't matter who else was in the room, the girl drove me nuts. She was always giggling and just bubbling. From the moment I laid my eyes on her I really wanted to have her.

Bubbles had though, not surprisingly, all these 'boyfriends' chasing her all the time.

I actually knew Eve before I moved in. Or rather, I knew who she was. She'd been in a couple of Computer Sci classes with me. I knew her name -- Eve Daniels, but that was about it. Well actually, I knew her body, fully clothed unfortunately. Naturally, I'd been checking her out in class and in the hallways.

Eve, or as I preferred to think of her after moving in...Church Girl -- she actually went to church on Sundays...was a sexy babe. Tall, thin. Almost lanky, but not quite. More cat-like in her movements than anything gangly. But tall -- I'm six-two, she was not a lot shorter than me, maybe five-eleven? And she had wide hips that wiggled...oh so sexily when she walked...plus, that inch wide gap at the top of her thighs that drives me just out of my mind. Prime camel-toe material, if she wore the right clothes. Nice breasts too, maybe a bit small for her wide shoulders, but definitely more than a handful. She had a beautiful - a classically beautiful, face. And a pearly white smile...oh! Clearly a lot of expensive dental care invested in that smile. She had a lovely white complexion and the cutest tiny, tiny, beauty spot mole on the top left of her full lips, a Marilyn Monroe thing, but on the other side and much smaller. She also had a little cleft to her chin that just sealed the deal for me.

I'm pretty sure it was love on first sight. Well maybe not love...but lust for sure. And that was a year before when she was in my Comp Sci classes and hanging out in the hall.

I don't think I ever saw her with make-up, though, or jewelry for that matter. Maybe a watch.

Eve was a frumpy dresser though. That and her mousy, straggly brown hair that always seemed to be a little bit greasy...set her apart from the other girls. She wore glasses with....black frames. She was B-list material in other people's minds, not mine.

If she did something with her hair, maybe put on some make-up once in a while and wore some nice clothes, she could be the hottest thing around, I thought. Had she ever considered contacts?

Nevertheless, I thought she was....well, definitely not hot like Bubbles hot...but someone I would definitely want to go out with. From the moment I first really met her in the house, Church Girl was my prime target. I wanted to her.

"Hey...I'm Joey." I reached out my hand.

"Eve." She took it. Her hand was elegant and soft.

"You were in my Comp Sci last year," I said.

"Two years ago, in Freshmen," she said, "yah, I remember you."

She was beaming at me. What a beautiful smile.

I lifted her hand up, turned her hand knuckles up, bowed slightly, while looking straight into her brown eyes I bent down...and I kissed her hand. I clicked my heels too.

Her jaw dropped and her face went pale. Perfect reaction...couldn't be better.

In the first few weeks, every time I saw Church Girl, she was so sweet, so friendly, and so damn sexy.

I asked her out. Although the whole date thing, coming back to my place, was going to be a bit absurd, seeing as we lived under the same roof.

It was about four o'clock on a Friday, "Do you want to go out tonight? Like dinner and a movie or something?" I asked coyly.

"Ohh... I'm sorry," she answered, looking down at her feet, " I've got a lot of homework to do," she said, "but thanks for asking," then looked up and smiled at me, kind of half hearted.


I mumbled something at her. It wasn't rude, it was polite and I headed off out the front door down to McDonald's on Fulham Road. As I walked along I realized that I'd never been refused a date before. There were girls I wouldn't dare ask out, like Bubbles. But every girl I kind of clicked with...I was never shut out. And the homework thing? Really? Yah, we all had a lot of work piled on, but we were two weeks into the year, Mid-terms weren't even close. On a Friday night?

Yeah, she shut me down.

After my pathetic Big Mac Combo dinner I went back home and did some homework, then landed up playing stupid video games in my room. At about seven I went upstairs to grab a beer.

Church Girl was sitting in front of the TV sipping a glass of white wine. What the hell?

"I thought you had homework to do?" I asked.

"All done...for now."

I looked at her incredulously. Am I that ugly? Do I have terrible bad breath? What the hell is wrong with me? This nerd girl won't go out with me and she clearly doesn't have another date tonight. Have I been an asshole? Did I say something wrong?

It couldn't have been me. I didn't mess up. And my hygiene was fine too.

Maybe the situation was salvageable.

"We can still go out, it's still early," I said.

"Naw...I don't think so."

"Eve this is crazy. We live under the same roof. I'm going to grab a beer, and if it's okay with you I'll sit and watch whatever you're watching on TV. Is it okay with you if I do?"

"Sure," Church Girl was beaming at me again. What a dream girl. She nearly threw me off my point.

"But you and I sitting in front of a big screen in a theater is not okay? I'll pay for the movie."

She looked at me all serious, "Joey. I don't do dates."


I don't understand women. I certainly don't understand this one. I just shook my head and headed to the kitchen to grab a beer. "Do you want anything from the fridge?"

"Grab the wine bottle."

A light bulb went off in my head. She's gay! She's a lesbo. How could I be so stupid? What an idiot I am...Again.

I grabbed her wine bottle and with my beer I headed back into the living room. I felt good. My head was clear. I love lezbos, especially the one's one the internet. I'm totally cool with the gay thing. I was going to be comfortable with Church Girl. But then, Church Girl -- lesbo? Church? I thought she was Catholic. Very strange.

I plopped the wine bottle on the coffee table.

"Thanks," she said and gazed at me.

"You're...welcome." It wasn't a big deal. Why was she looking at me like that?

It was only then that I noticed her t-shirt was inside out, I could make out the lettering lluT orhteJ. What a nut. I guess there was a reason she wore glasses.

"Umm, do you want to go to the football game tomorrow?" she asked, her half-smile fading away. It was the season home opener.

"Isn't that like a date?" I snapped back, perhaps a bit too sharply.

"No, it's a football game."

"You and me in a crowded stadium, watching entertainment in front of us and eating hot dogs and pretzels and drinking beer is not a date, yet you and me in a crowded theater watching entertainment after having pizza and a glass of wine is? What's up with that?" As soon as I said that I wished I'd just kept my mouth shut. I was being a jerk. I blew it.

She looked down and said "Sorry." And then after a moment she asked softly "So do you want to go? I'm sure Christa can get us tickets."

So she's asking me out? What the hell?

"I can't," I answered dryly.

After a moment she said, "Oh I guess you've got homework to do."

"No," I came back to her, "I've a commitment downtown tomorrow morning and I'm not gonna be back in time. I can make the second half, maybe, but not the whole game. It's just not worth the hassle."

She gazed at me with a puzzled look on her face. I knew what she was wondering. What kind of commitment do I have on a Saturday morning and is it as trivial as her 'homework'.

"I'm committed...to helping a bunch of little kids out in an exercise thing."

"Oh," she said her head snapping up, her eyes glistening, happy, "it's like a part time job?"

"Well no, I don't actually get paid," I said flatly.

She gazed forward to the TV which was on commercial then up to the ceiling. Then she said, more to herself than me, "That's so nice, you're volunteering with a bunch of kids."

After a moment she picked up the remote and asked "I'm not actually watching this, do you mind if I turn this off?"

Oh shit, now gay Church Girl wants to talk."Sure," I said.

She clicked off the TV, put down the remote and picked up her wine glass, took a sip and turned to me, smiling. Her arm reached out, her fingernails tickled my shoulder. "That was really sweet what you did, when I first met you here."

"What?" What was she on about? She wasn't acting lesbo all of a sudden.

"You kissed my hand. It was sweet." She was smiling at me.

Was Church Girl coming on to me? I was confused.

I just smiled back, I'm sure with a stupid look on my face and said "It was nothing..."

It was nothing? What a stupid thing to say.

"...It was my pleasure," I quickly added with a little flourish of my right hand to act up the moment, in hope of recovery. I don't think it worked.

Church Girl just looked at me. I couldn't read her face.

Ana came upstairs, "Am I interrupting something here?" she asked.

"No," I said, stood up, grabbed my beer and started walking out of the room. I turned slowly to face Church Girl. I gave her a big smile. I knew I was being a total letch. I grinned at her, very cognizant of the moment and simply said, "I'm off to my room. I'll see ya later."

I was sure she was going to tap at my door. I wondered...five minutes. Over or under?

If she was gay, she probably wasn't that committed. I didn't meet a girlfriend. It couldn't have been Christa or Bubbles. They both have boyfriends. And those two were about as far away from gay as you could get. Church Girl was definitely bi, at the very least. Hell, she came on to me. For sure.

But she was lonely too. Prime material. Five minutes. Over or under?

She didn't tap on my door. If she did, it was much later and I was asleep.

I was shut down again.

As I was getting back the next afternoon, I ran into Annie Bonneau from St. Angel's mission house. Annie was pretty well the first person I met in this forsaken paradise when I started my freshman year. I couldn't tell if she was half bag lady, half angel or half bag lady, half demon. She was scary looking. Almost witch-like with wild, flaming red hair and piercing, almost black eyes coupled with grotesque red lipstick. A very strange woman, yet friendly and compassionate and that counted for a lot. She ran the mission. Annie was struggling to get rid of a bunch of flowers left over from I guess either a wedding or a funeral. The mission house did both occasionally. She had a lot of flowers. Mainly, white tulips. I offered her twenty bucks to take them all off her hands. She was grateful for the help and the cash.

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