Third Wheel Renter

I want to thank cadmandu for helping to edit this piece.

Third Wheel Renter

It was a warm late summer day in San Jose, California. In the kitchen of a cozy blue Victorian-style house, two women were looking over a pile of bills and past due invoices on their round kitchen counter. A petite blonde woman with sun-kissed skin was on her laptop crunching numbers. Her hair tied back, with two pencils as she typed away. Her partner with braided raven black hair, was reading off the charges and their level of urgency. A general sense of distress and uncertainty clouded both their minds.

The economy had shit the bed after the pandemic hit. Overnight tens of millions of people were out of work. Which in turn, caused a ripple effect in every aspect of life. People that once thought they had secure stable jobs were now scrambling to stay afloat. Many were draining their savings to get by. Though not entirely screwed, the young lesbian couple was definitely on a sinking ship.

The blonde woman, Stacy Miller was an accountant for one of the big tech firms in Silicon Valley. When their industry had to work from home things transitioned relatively smoothly. Her spouse, Monica Garcia was not as fortunate. She was a chef and baker at a high-end restaurant. When the state shutdown, Monica was among the first wave of workers to be furloughed indefinitely. Although she was eventually able to get unemployment, the bills that were coming in far outweighed the revenue the two were making.

Putting down the last piece of paper Monica asked, "So how bad is the damage?"

Stacy shakes her head, "It's not good. At this rate, we are hemorrhaging money like crazy. We've cut every unnecessary expense but it has barely made a dent. If it was not for the Governor declaring a state of emergency, we would not have any power or water right now." Stacy took her small hand and wiped her sweaty forehead.

Monica replies, "So what are our options moving forward?" While biting her index fingernail.

Stacy stands up using the wooden chair to stretch her back. With her head resting on the brown lacquer headrest, she says, "Our options are not great. One, we can do nothing and lose the house and all are equity. Our credit will get nuked. Two, we could sell the house now and rent. Considering the current market, I doubt we would break even after expenses and we would still be homeless. Which only leaves one real viable option and you are not going to like it."

Monica tilting her head says, "What could be worse than homeless and poverty?"

Stacy continued, "We could rent out the guest room. It has a full bath attached that neither of us uses. Considering how desirable this area is because of Silicon Valley, it would not be hard to rent. It is the best option considering the situation. At the least, we could break even until this mess normalizes."

Monica had always been an independent person. At 5' 8'', she had a very athletic body with small C-cups and slightly toned abs. It was a miracle considering her job involved being surrounded by great smelling, high-calorie food 40 hours a week. Monica tried to stay active by going to the gym, which had been closed down for months. Monica and Stacy enjoyed biking, yoga, and calisthenics and many other hobbies only single adults could enjoy. It helped that neither of them had kids. Although weeks before the pandemic broke out, they had a conversation about adoption, somewhere down the line. The thought still freaked Monica out.

Her years of sharing a single room with her three siblings had traumatized her. Growing up in her parents' small suburban home did not help. It got weird, sleeping 10 feet away from your teenaged brothers as a teenager yourself. Even when she was in culinary school, she had to share a shitty apartment with three other college kids. They had not had any sense of common decency or respect for privacy. After graduating and finding a job, Monica met Stacy and had finally felt like she could breathe. After a few years of cohabitating in an apartment, they got married and bought this house a little over a year ago.

Monica, now in her late twenties, realized they had no other reasonable options. Reluctantly she swallowed her pride and agreed. That afternoon they signed up for one of those sub-rental sites and posted their advertisement for a room to rent. They had taken many pictures of the room, bathroom, the shared kitchen, and the exterior of the home. They had a small list of reasonable demands like no pets, a month down payment, references, etc. Within a week, Monica and Stacy had a dozen applications.

After filtering through several sketchy and equally broke and desperate people, they narrowed it down to one candidate, Rick Hammond. He worked in Silicon Valley at an up and coming startup company. He was lean with brown eyes and dark-rimmed glasses. Rick had coarse brown hair that looked like an early-career Beatle. It was unclear if that was his normal style or the lack of getting a proper haircut for months. He dressed in a comfortable zip-up sweater with his company logo embroidered on the breast. A normal pair of blue jeans and white Nike sneakers completed the ensemble. As a sign of goodwill, Rick had gotten a recent antibody test, and brought a cashier's check as payment for the first two months rent upfront. He showed them his last pay stub and bank statement as to proof he was not broke.

Stacy and Monica were more than satisfied and accepted him. Rick did have a small request. He wanted hang out, watch movies and play games when they were free on the weekends. A lack of real human contact was starting to get to everyone by now, so it seemed reasonable. With everyone agreed, they signed a one-year lease.

Two days later, a small moving truck arrived and offloaded his stuff. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. A queen-sized mattress and metal bed frame ,wood dresser, clothes, personal effects, fancy desk, and a leather office chair along with tons of computer stuff. His bicycle went into the garage. After a long day of moving and setup, Rick ordered some pizza and beer for everyone. For being a Silicon Valley worker, they were surprised he didn't have the usual arrogant and aggressive tech bro personality. Instead, he was a pretty mellow guy with a few quirks. Stacy and Monica felt they had lucked out on this renter.

As it started to get late they all retired to their rooms. Monica and Stacy showered and changed into their pajamas and drifted off to sleep. Rick was still up, quietly clicking away at his computer. Looking at his Casio watch. He swivels around to look at a box of wired and wireless mini speakers sitting on his bed.

They were linked to his computer and gave off sounds that were barely audible. Although each had a short range, when combined they worked in tandem forming a network covering the house. The plugins were the size of a wall air freshener. The wireless ones were the size of a wireless headphone case and required recharging every two days.

Rick snuck out of his room and strategically placed them around the house. Hiding them in inconspicuous outlets or out of reach places. Holding his breath, he opened Stacy and Monica's bedroom door. After placing a wireless microphone on the wall behind their dresser, he gently closed the door and went back to his room. After hitting a few keystrokes on his computer the speakers let out a low pitched hissing sound. As Rick got on his bed and drifted off, Stacy and Monica were tossing and turning in bed until morning.

The next morning things were normal for Stacy and Monica. Monica was making her famous frittatas on the gas stovetop. Rick came out of his room and cracked open a SOYLENT Bar and had a glass of grapefruit juice. Monica a seasoned chef shook her head. For a guy that had some money, she was surprised he ate that yoga babble, food 2.0 garbage. It was his body. After a calm breakfast, he went back to his bedroom/office to work.

The next few days went by relatively fast. Rick would come out and eat something pre-packaged and go back to his room. Sometimes making small talk if Stacy or Monica were around before returning to his bedroom/office to keep plugging away at his job. In the afternoon he would watch TV in the living room until they all retired for the evening

As the nights went on, Monica and Stacy began getting hornier and decided to make out. With all the stress they had been under, sex had been the furthest thing from their minds for the last few months. Now that they were not financially free falling, they started to relax and cut loose. Before the pandemic they had active sex lives, generally one or two nights a per week. Suddenly, it was every other night and slowly escalating.

At first, it was gentle kisses and light caressing, followed by some standard, run of the mill, cunnilingus. As the nights continued, things started getting hotter and heavier. Monica even brought out her strap-on and gave Stacy some rough doggy style. Their moan could be heard through the old paper-thin walls. Rick stopped working on his computer for a minute and smirked.

On Friday, almost a week after Rick moved in, the normal pattern for breakfast played out. Monica flipped some hash browns in a pan while Stacy set the table. Rick walked in and went to the cabinet and pulled out one of his Silicon Valley breakfast bars.

Monica watching him, sighed. "Rick I can not let you eat that thing. As a chief with way too much time on her hands, I cannot stand by and watch you eat garbage. Let me make you something while I am here." Pulling out an extra plate she divvied out some hash browns and seasoned eggs. Rick was grateful and put down his opened breakfast bar to enjoy Monica's food. Monica took the open SOYLENT bar from the table and started walking it to the trash. Out of curiosity, she broke off a piece and popped it in her mouth. She immediately started to gag and spit the remainder into a rag.

Wiping the taste off her tongue, Monica blurted out "Oh my god. That was like eating an old gym sock. I will make you a deal if we increase your rent by $120 a week, I will make your breakfast from now on." Monica took a large gulp of water to wash the terrible taste out of her mouth.

Rick used her offer as an opportunity to test his device. "That would be great. My coworker pushed those things onto me, said I would bulk up without getting fat. I cannot deny your cooking smells and tastes delicious. You did say $60 a week right?"

Monica and Stacy thought for a second and agreed. Rick smiled. His program had allowed him to slip new information into the conversation which would be accepted as truth. The bigger the alteration, the more conditioning would be required for it to be accepted. For Monica, it was an excuse to do what she loved and make some money again doing it. In reality, the money Rick offered barely covered the increased grocery bill. Monica would need to do some more shopping to account for feeding another person.

As the weekend began, they played a few games of Settlers of Catan while eating Monica's homemade chicken wings. Rick sometimes cheated by double-dipping his wing, trying to see if Stacy or Monica would catch on. They did not. After Rick won 3 of the 4 games, Stacy picked out a movie to watch. After cleaning up, they watched an old comedy movie from the 1990s. Stacy and Monica cuddled on one end of the couch. Rick enjoyed being in their presence, occasionally looking over to admire the ravishing couple. All while silently planning how he would up the stakes.

On Saturday morning after breakfast, Monica kissed her wife goodbye and left to do some weekly shopping at the farmers market and grocery store. Stacy had some chores to catch up on and decided to hang back. Fifteen minutes after Monica left, Rick pretended to have neck pain. A concerned and compassionate Stacy asked if anything was wrong. Rick replied, "Oh I think I slept on it wrong and pinched a nerve. It happens a lot. Would you do me a favor and give it a little massage?"

Stacy smiled, "Sure no problem. Take a seat."

Rick sat in a dining room chair, Stacy got behind Rick. She had to stand on her tippy toes to be at the right height.

Stacy was a short and petite woman. At 5' 1'', she was technically just tall enough to not be considered a little person. Not that it mattered to most people that met her. People joked she had to buy clothes made for middle school kids at places like Kids GAP. A statement that was only partially true. A good chunk of her work clothes had to be tailored to accommodate her short stature. Today she was wearing a dark purple long-sleeved button-down dress shirt with khaki pants.

Her petite hands started working the muscles in Rick's shoulder. Her nimble fingers dug into his flesh in circular motions. Rick lets out a pleasant hum of pleasure. After a few minutes, he thanked Stacy, jokingly adding that he wished he had a girlfriend like her.

Stacy giggled. "Well, I am sure once this mess calms down, you will have no problem finding someone to take care of your needs."

"Speaking of needs, could you do me one more favor?" Rick said, as his heart started racing.

"Sure what can I do?" asked Stacy inquisitively.

Rick turned in the chair, revealing a growing boner in his pants. Rick continued, "I was hoping you would finish off my massage with a happy ending."

For Rick, this was the "do or die" moment. At his job before the pandemic, they were testing out their sound behavior modification program and device on chimpanzees and humans. Potential applications included training domestic pets, treating people with psychological needs and controlling prison populations. The human tests had been limited in scale and length of exposure. Only going as far as cheating at board games and making very small lies believed to be true. On the test primates, they were able to change core behaviors like the food they ate, toys they liked, even switching mating partners using the devices and positive reinforcement. All of which would be unethical in human trials. Rick had a theory that it would work on Homo sapiens.

Stacy made a small laugh, "Come on Rick. Don't joke around. You know I am a married woman and a lesbian. Why would I do that?"

Rick had prepared for this response, replying. "Well massages between a man and woman do tend to end with happy endings. As I said, I don't have a girlfriend to assist my needs. You did say you would help. Besides, it is not like you are cheating. It's just a massage."

Stacy scrunched her brows for a few seconds. Her brain re-ordering itself to agree with what Rick had said. It had seemed unusual at first but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

In a slightly confused voice, she said, "I guess you are right. Let me get a paper towel and lotion." Stacy walked to the sink and ripped off a paper towel from roll.

Rick and Stacy walked to his bedroom and Rick asked, "Have you ever done this before?"

Stacy replies "I gave my high school and college boyfriends hand jobs before I came out. I think I understand the basics."

Rick smirked. "So you don't know how a happy ending works then?"

Stacy looked confused.

Rick pulled his pants and boxers down saying, "Yes, a hand job is one component, but both parties tend to get off to it." He reached over and rubbed Stacy's thigh. " ideally, when I ejaculate my tzatziki, you cum as well. Hence a happy ending for both of us."

Rick was now trying to recreate what they had done for the chimpanzee trials. Using his program when where limited past information was known was unique. It wrote in the blanks, made acceptance easier with positive reinforcement like a spike in dopamine. He wanted to test to see if he could replace the association of sperm with tzatziki, both being white with a tangy flavor.

Once again, Stacy's mind takes a few moments to process and she agrees. She pulled off her khaki pants and plain white panties, revealing her soft blond expanse of pubic hair. Which ran up under her purple top Rick thought, how lesbians love their carpets. Stacy pumped out some lotion and started rubbing his cock. Rick wets his middle and ring fingers before entering Stacy's hairy pussy. He starts to curl his fingers inside Stacy trying to find her sweet spot. After a minute her pussy starts to weep and her hips involuntarily buck from time to time. Stacy being a little rusty working a live dick falls behind Rick's skilled movements. After about 10 minutes they both start to grunt and moan as they near orgasm. When the moment arrives, Stacy orgasms hard, falling forward over Rick's lap. A second later, Rick also blows, covering her purple top in a few stings of his thick sticky essence.

Once Stacy recovers, she looks down at her shirt, miffed. "You covered my shirt in your tzatziki."

Rick replied "Next time you should take off the top. Did you enjoy your happy ending?" He said with a smirk.

Stacy tried to choose her words carefully. "It was ... pleasurable, but it is not something I would like to do every day."

Rick says, "So, would you give me another massage if I asked?"

Stacy said, "I would have to think about it."

Putting on his pants, Rick went for his wallet and pulled out $30. "This is for you. It is customary for a man to give some monetary compensation after a happy ending." Giving Stacy the money was creating another positive reinforcement.

Stacy pulled her pants over her wet sex and took the money, saying "Thanks." Shoving the money into her pocket, she left the room to change into a new top.

When Monica returned with a car full of groceries, Rick and Stacy helped her bring everything into the house. Monica noticed that Stacy had changed her top. When questioned, Stacy replied that she spilled some tzatziki on it. They had had Mediterranean a few days ago, so Monica thought no more about it.

Rick spent that night thinking of new ways to develop his two subjects further. Stacy and Monica were by no means garden-variety test subjects and he knew he had to have them both of them for himself. In a lot of ways, They checked a lot of the boxes for what he wanted in a woman. It would just take time to set up. Pulling out some recording equipment he began the next phase of his plan.

* * * * *

On Sunday, Monica was once again making breakfast crepes for everyone. As Rick drank his juice, he was watching Monica work her magic at the stove. He especially admired her thick hips and juicy ass as they swayed. After Monica plated their raspberry crepes with a dash of cream Rick started his plan.

He knew Monica was an out of work baker and chef. Outside of feeding her wife and now Rick, she mostly exercised and read books since no one was hiring. He asked Monica if she had ever considered doing a virtual cooking show. It had become popular online since most network television had abandoned the format. The networks were programming junk cooking game show competitions as replacements. Being a solo chef, Monica thought she could make whatever she wanted and express her culinary creativity. It was just what she needed. Monica hesitated, because she knew nothing about technology or being an online personality.

Rick smiled and said, "Don't worry about it. I have some recording equipment and editing software that has been collecting dust. Pick out a simple dish to prepare as a test run. Just follow my lead and I will take care of the rest. Who knows, maybe you could make some money on the side. There are many non-traditional internet personalities that make some big bucks doing this."

Monica's eyes went wide for a second. She wanted to cook, but if she could make some money while doing it during this pandemic it would be even better. She agreed and they started putting their plan into motion.

An hour later Rick had his camera and tripod set up in the kitchen. The kitchen was semi-modern with granite countertops and an island. The appliances were stainless steel. The previous owners made some upgrades a few years before Stacy and Monica bought the house. Monica picked a simple berry dessert appetizer that would take less than 15 minutes to shoot. Like most baking shows of the past, the small cake base was cooked in advance to make the scene seamless. Stacy wanted to give them some space, so she decided to go out for a bicycle ride.