Room for One More Ch. 01

The first thing Natalie did was clear out the guest room closet. Not that it was overflowing--just a few suitcases, an old space heater, and a pile of boots she hadn't worn since before the divorce. But the act of folding, lifting, and tucking things away made it real. Her fingers paused on a soft knit throw, brushing it, unable to deny memories that came with it from her old home. A previous life.

The coming reality felt more real with every empty hanger. She didn't regret saying yes. Lisa had sounded so grateful, so relieved. "The dorms are just making the cost of college so much more expensive," she'd said. "He just needs somewhere stable to live and study." And Natalie could use the help. Sure, she didn't need a two bedroom, but it was originally supposed to be a home office-guestroom combo, but the office never really got used. Neither did it get used as a guest room. The only person that'd come to stay was Lisa, and those visits were few and far between. The new city, the rent, and the soft panic of watching her savings thin out while she waited for a promotion that may never come, meant the modest monthly payment they'd agreed on wasn't nothing.

But still. A 20-year-old. A boy. A man?

She leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, staring at the freshly made bed. The sheets were new. So were the towels. She'd even swapped out the nightstand lamp for something a little more masculine--not that she thought he'd care. But something about sharing space again made her suddenly, irrationally aware of the details. The angles. The proximity.

She hadn't lived with a young man since she was in her twenties--newly married, hopeful, trying to build something solid. That had been a long time ago. She was 32 now, divorced, and focused on work. Trying to rebuild in a new city, in a new apartment, with a new routine she was only just getting used to. Yoga before work, late nights at the office to show her commitment, finished up with wine and reruns until her brain slowed down.

She moved through the apartment like she was expecting a guest, even though it would be his home, too--at least for a little while. She scrubbed the stove, rearranged the contents of the fridge, bought an extra towel set. Not for him, exactly. Just... because.

But now? She wasn't sure what to expect.

She remembered the last time she saw him, barely seventeen, all awkward shoulders and posture, and shaggy hair. Lisa said he'd grown up, that he'd filled out. "You'll be impressed," she'd said with a wink, half-joking, not knowing how strange that would land. Natalie had laughed it off, but it lingered. She wasn't expecting him. She was expecting company, noise, a warm body in the hall. Someone to fill the silence she only recently realized was becoming overwhelming and a constant throughout the house. At first it was welcome, in contrast her to the fights her marriage had turned into. But lately, it seemed ever-present and lonely.

She walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, then shut it again without taking anything. She already felt the shift, and he hadn't even arrived yet. It would be nice to have someone around again. She told herself that. Repeated it. Just... she wouldn't have expected that someone to be a 20-year-old man.

Heading back to the guest room, more out of an anxious energy than anything else, she sat on the edge of the bed and let out a breath.

"I can handle this," she said aloud. "It's just someone to share the space."

But even as she said it, her eyes drifted to the hallway--where the closed door to her bedroom suddenly felt just a little too close to his.

This wasn't just a week or two. Lisa had said through college. Suddenly that felt so undefined. Did that mean? Two years? Would he be expecting to stay here if went for his masters? Aiden would come and go, sure--classes, internships--but the reality was he'd be living here. In her quiet, post-divorce space that she had finally, finally made her own.

She was used to hearing only her own footsteps. To dancing barefoot through the kitchen with wine and music. To not worrying about someone else hearing her cry in the shower. That life was starting to feel normal.

And now she was about to share it with the 20-year-old child of her best friend. One who, if she was honest, she barely ever knew in the first place.

Still... it would be nice to have someone around again. Even if it wasn't someone she would've expected.

"I can handle this," she said aloud. "It's temporary." Suddenly she wasn't sure if she believed that--especially not after her conversation with Lisa on the phone last night.

--------------

"Seriously, Nat, you're a lifesaver."

Lisa's voice crackled slightly through the speakerphone as Natalie placed a pair of folded towels at the foot of the bed.

"I owe you big time for this," Lisa said.

"You say that like I'm not still trying to convince myself it's a good idea," Natalie replied, smoothing the fabric unnecessarily.

Lisa chuckled. "He's not high-maintenance, I swear. You might even forget he's there."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Natalie muttered. "Then I'll walk into the kitchen in my robe, or less, and scare the hell out of both of us."

Lisa laughed. "You're going to get along better than you think."

Natalie paused. "I haven't lived with anyone in a while."

"Since the ex?"

"Yeah." She tugged at a loose thread on the comforter. "It's been kind of... nice. Quiet."

Lisa didn't say anything for a moment. "Well, it's not like Aiden's going to disrupt your whole world."

"Mm." Natalie made a noncommittal noise, then added, "I just didn't think the next person I'd live with would be your son."

"He's not a kid anymore," Lisa said, with a tone that was almost teasing. "You'll see."

"I'm not looking," Natalie shot back, more quickly than she meant to.

"Didn't say you were," Lisa replied, lightly. Then, after a moment: "He always thought you were kind of intimidating, you know."

Natalie raised an eyebrow. "I was twenty-five and working eighty-hour weeks when he met me. I think I barely looked up from my phone."

"He still remembers."

That made Natalie pause, but she kept her tone casual. "Well, I hope I don't scare him off this time."

"He's not that easily scared anymore."

There was something in Lisa's voice that Natalie couldn't quite pin down--pride, maybe, or something else.

"I'll keep him in line," Natalie said. "As long as you don't start calling me his second mom."

Lisa laughed again. "You? Please. Actually, now that you mention it, he'd probably listen to you more than he listens to me."

Another pause, just slightly too long.

"You sure this won't be weird?" Natalie asked.

There was a lightness in Lisa's reply. "Would it be the first time something was a little weird between us?"

Natalie didn't answer right away. She reached for her glass of wine and took a slow sip.

"I think we'll manage."

"I know you will," Lisa said, softer now. "You always do. You nervous?"

"A little."

"You excited?"

Natalie smirked. "Don't push it."

Lisa laughed. "Okay, okay. I'll stop. Just be nice to him, will you?"

"I will," Natalie said. "But I'm not making him muffins."

Lisa paused. "You're totally making muffins, aren't you?"

Natalie sighed. "They're banana nut. Don't judge me."

"Oh, I'm judging. But also--I'm touched."

Another small pause settled between them, quieter now.

Lisa paused. "Crazy, isn't it? When we met in that hot yoga class seven years ago, I never would've guessed my son would end up living with you."

Natalie let out a soft breath. "Yeah... that definitely wasn't on my bingo card."

Lisa's voice softened. "Honestly, I would've expected me to live with you before Aiden ever did."

Natalie blinked, caught off guard. She gave a small laugh, unsure how else to respond. "Well... you probably would've been better at folding the towels."

Lisa laughed with her--easily, but not without weight. "Maybe. But I definitely wouldn't stay out of your wine stash." A brief silence passed again--light, but not empty.

"Weird, huh?" Lisa said.

"Weirds one word for it." Another pause. Familiar. Not uncomfortable, but layered.

"Anyway," Lisa said, slipping back into her usual rhythm, "you'll be great."

"I'll manage," Natalie replied. "I usually do."

"I know," Lisa said, quieter now. "Night, Nat."

"Night, Lis."

--------------

The next morning, Natalie stood by the window with a cooling cup of coffee in her hand, watching as a silver sedan eased into the lot below. She hadn't slept much--not out of anxiety, exactly, but from a restless awareness that the quiet rhythm of her home was about to change.

She spotted Lisa as soon as the car parked. Her friend stepped out with a quick glance upward, giving a wave even though she couldn't possibly see Natalie through the tinted glass and reflection of the world outside. She knew Natalie well enough to know that she'd be watching for them though. A moment later, Aiden emerged from the passenger side, taller than she remembered and more filled out. He moved with the loose, casual energy of someone comfortable in his own skin, slinging a duffel bag over his shoulder and grabbing a suitcase from the back seat.

Natalie's stomach gave a small, involuntary twist.

That wasn't the awkward teen she remembered from holidays and backyard barbecues. That was... something else entirely. She wasn't sure what she'd expected--maybe someone younger-looking, more boyish--but the man stepping onto the curb looked completely at ease with himself in a way that made her suddenly feel off-balance.

She turned from the window and set her mug down, brushing her hands over her jeans as if that would settle her nerves. It was time to open the door, make polite conversation, and act like she hadn't spent the last twenty-four hours trying to convince herself this was a perfectly normal arrangement.

Before leaving the room, she took one last look around the guest room, smoothed the edge of the comforter, then moved to the kitchen to pour herself some water she didn't really want. The sun had shifted by the time she heard the buzz from the front door. She glanced at the clock--ten after four.

Showtime.

Natalie opened the door just as Lisa lifted her hand to knock.

"There she is," Lisa said with a grin, stepping in for a brief hug. "Told you we'd make it before dinner time."

Natalie returned the hug, then looked past her to Aiden. He lingered a step back, shoulders relaxed, duffel slung over one side.

Stepping aside to let them in, she said, "Well, come on in. Don't just stand there, come in."

He stepped through the doorway behind his mom with a polite nod and a quick glance around. The last time Natalie had seen him, he'd been all sharp elbows and shaggy hair, slouched in a hoodie two sizes too big. Now, his posture was straighter, movements calmer, like he'd settled into himself. Still quiet, but no longer unsure.

Natalie shut the door behind them and gestured toward the hallway. "Your room's the first on the right. Closet's cleared out and extra towels are on the bed."

"Thanks," Aiden said, offering a brief smile before heading down the hall with his duffel over one shoulder and his suitcase trailing behind him. His footsteps were light, almost cautious.

Lisa followed her into the kitchen like it was still familiar territory, opening a cabinet uninvited and grabbing two glasses. "You're not going to freak out and kick him out after a week, are you?"

Natalie raised an eyebrow. "Not unless he starts blasting music at 2 a. m. or leaves beard trimmings in the sink."

Lisa smirked. "He's not a slob. And he keeps to himself. Honestly, you'll probably forget he's here most of the time."

Natalie leaned against the counter, arms crossed loosely. "I doubt that. It already feels different."

"Good different or bad different?"

She didn't answer right away. "Just... not mine anymore. The space. The routine. It's going to take a minute."

Lisa nodded, surprisingly understanding. "I get it. You've been solo for what, a year now?"

"Just over."

"Well, he's not going to take over your world," Lisa said, grabbing her glass of water and giving Natalie a pointed look. "He just needs a place to sleep, study, and occasionally eat all your cereal."

Natalie huffed a soft laugh. "I don't even eat cereal."

"Then you're already that much safer from his never-ending hunger."

Before Natalie could respond, Aiden reemerged from the hallway. He'd dropped his bags off and was now taking in the apartment with more focus--his eyes scanning the layout, the framed prints on the walls, the neat stack of books on the console table.

"It looks really nice in here," he said.

Natalie gave a modest shrug. "It's still coming together."

"I like it," he added.

Natalie gave a small smile, brushing her hand down the side of her jeans. "Thanks. It's a work in progress."

Lisa looked between them, then clapped her hands together. "All right, troops. He's still got a few boxes in the trunk. Let's get it all in before the afternoon heat turns ugly."

Natalie grabbed her keys off the counter. "Lead the way."

They filed out together--Natalie locking the door behind her, Lisa chatting like always, and Aiden bringing up the rear, quietly scanning the hallway as they walked. The apartment was nicer than anything he was used to. Cleaner. More put together. Not like the dorms, where towels were always damp and your neighbors either slammed doors or played guitar badly at midnight.

This place had structure. It felt like someone actually lived here--and not in the half-hearted way college students pretended to. That made him feel... out of place. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to fit into that.

As they stepped outside, the midday heat rolled in fast. Lisa popped the trunk of her car and motioned toward the back.

"There's your last two," she said. "One of you grab the box, the other grab the bin."

"I got it," Aiden said quickly, reaching for both before Natalie could move.

"Don't throw your back out trying to impress me," she said.

"I'm not," he muttered, adjusting the grip on the awkward plastic bin. It wasn't heavy, just bulky.

Lisa opened the building door for them, and he followed Natalie in, trying not to focus too much on the scrape of her sandals on the tile or the fact that he was eyelevel with her ass, as they walked up the stairs.

This whole thing still felt strange. He'd spent the last two years crammed into shared spaces with guys who barely knew how to run a microwave, and now here he was--off campus, living with his mom's friend, a woman he barely even knew anything about. He didn't even know how old she actually was. Thirty... something? She didn't look it, but she acted like it. He was used to living with people he didn't know. That comes with dorm life. But he didn't know how to live with a woman--not a girl, but a woman--that wasn't his mom. This was new. All of it. And he wasn't sure yet how he was supposed to act.

It was already a different world, and he hadn't even unpacked yet.

When they got back to the apartment, he dropped his things by the wall in his room, then returned to find Natalie and his mom in the kitchen, already opening drawers and debating whether the mugs were too high up.

"It'll be fun staying the night, right?" Lisa asked, turning toward Natalie. "Just like old times! One last night of freedom for you before the kid takes over."

Natalie gave her a dry look. "You're staying in my bed. He's the one with the door. How is that my last night of freedom?"

Lisa waved her off. "Details."

Aiden hesitated just past the doorway, unsure whether to linger or leave them to whatever they were doing. They clearly had a rhythm--shared stories, inside jokes--and he wasn't part of that. Not yet. Probably not ever.

He cleared his throat lightly. "I'm gonna, uh... finish unpacking."

"Need help?" Lisa asked, half-turning.

"I'm good," he said, already backing down the hall.

He shut the door behind him, sat on the edge of the bed, and stared at the bin he'd just carried up. The room was nice. Too nice. Clean, quiet, and... adult. This wasn't going to feel like college. Not even close.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped. The bin sat unopened in front of him. He knew exactly what was in it--chargers, notebooks, a couple of extension cords, and a hoodie he hadn't worn since winter break--but suddenly, unpacking felt like something he needed to work up to.

Everything in the room felt intentional. The bed was already made, the towels folded, and there was even a small dish of spare toiletries on the dresser, like he was checking into some kind of Airbnb. It wasn't bad--far from it--but it felt foreign. Quiet in a way he wasn't used to. No background noise. No random yelling through paper-thin dorm walls. No roommate clomping around in flip-flops at midnight. Just... calm. And that made him realize how much he'd relied on noise to distract himself from actually thinking.

He stood, opened the bin, and started pulling things out one by one, placing them in drawers that were too empty and too clean. It didn't take long. He didn't have much. By the time he was zipping up the empty duffel bag, he could hear faint laughter coming from the kitchen--his mom's voice, then Natalie's. He couldn't make out the words, but the flow of it seemed like it was familiar between them. Comfortable. Like it was just a continuation of some past life they had together before he showed up. He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse.

Aiden sat back down on the edge of the bed, resting his forearms on his thighs. This wasn't going to be like dorm life. It wasn't going to be like anything he'd done before. Natalie wasn't just some stranger off a roommate board--she was his mom's friend. Sharp, professional, polite. And he was crashing in her home for the foreseeable future.

He exhaled through his nose, then stood again, mostly just to move. The idea of staying in here all evening felt weird, but barging into the kitchen mid-laughter felt weirder. After a moment, he opened the door and wandered toward the living room. At the very least, he figured he should pretend not to be hiding.

Natalie leaned against the kitchen island, half-listening as Lisa recounted the woman who came in mortified, asking for help removing a decorative wine stopper she'd mistaken for something sturdier during a moment of... experimentation. It was classic Lisa--half absurd, half hilarious--and Natalie found herself smiling, even though her attention drifted every few seconds.

She heard the soft click of the bedroom door down the hall. The sound barely registered, but it tugged her focus just the same. It was a sound she didn't cause. A sound from someone who was now going to be inhabiting her space. Aiden's room was across the hall from hers--close enough to matter, but not right on top of each other. It had seemed like a logical setup when she offered it. Now it just felt... noticeably close.

A moment later, he reappeared, pausing at the edge of the kitchen like he wasn't sure whether to come in or wait to be invited.

"Survived the unpacking?" Natalie asked, keeping her tone casual.

"Mostly," he said. "Still figuring out where to put stuff."

"You'll figure it out. The drawers aren't that deep--can't leave you with too many options."

He gave a quick smile and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. He wasn't hovering, exactly--but there was a quiet hesitation in how he held himself, like he was still finding his place in the room.

"Can't help it," he said after a beat. "I'm in school for architecture. Making things fit is kind of... hardwired."

Natalie raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed. "So, you're saying the junk drawer might be your greatest challenge?"

"Depends how chaotic it is," he replied with a smile. "Could be a decent design exercise."

Lisa turned from the fridge with a grin. "Don't encourage her. Next thing you know she'll be asking for a full rework of the spice cabinet."

"Only if it comes with extra credit," he said.

That drew a laugh from both women, and Natalie found herself relaxing a little. It wasn't effortless--nothing about this situation would be--but it wasn't stiff, either. Just new. He moved a little farther into the room, staying close to the edge but present. She noticed he didn't pull out his phone or try to fade into the background. He was just... taking it in. Not forcing anything.

Lisa clapped her hands together once. "Okay, we're voting on dinner. Thai or pizza?"

Aiden glanced between them. "I'm good with whatever."

Natalie grabbed the stack of takeout menus. "That's not how voting works."

Dinner had come and gone--takeout boxes half-collapsed on the coffee table, empty plates stacked nearby, and three glasses of wine making their way through the bottle Lisa had brought. The TV played low in the background, but no one was really paying attention. Lisa had made herself comfortable in the middle of the couch, legs tucked under her. Natalie was curled at one end, elbow on the armrest, glass balanced loosely in hand. Aiden had taken the accent chair across from them, sitting a little straighter than the others, one foot bouncing lightly as he listened.

"So," Lisa said, topping off Natalie's glass before offering the bottle toward Aiden. "Want some?"

Natalie glanced over. "He's not old enough."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Please. He's twenty. And we all know he's had a lot more than a glass of wine at those college parties."

Aiden let out a short laugh, glancing between them like he wasn't sure if he was in on the joke or the target of it. Lisa wasn't done. "I found him drunk on our front porch senior year. Tried to sneak in quiet, fell over taking off his shoes."

"I thought you didn't know about that," Aiden muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm a nurse, not an idiot," Lisa replied, smirking. "You were home safe. That's what mattered in that moment. At least this time he's drinking at home," she finished, looking at Natalie.

The word caught Natalie off guard. Home. She looked at Aiden again, glass paused just short of her lips. He didn't seem to notice the shift, or if he did, he didn't react. He just leaned forward and accepted the pour with a quiet, "Thanks."

He already saw this place that way--or at least didn't resist the idea of it. Natalie took a sip, letting the wine settle on her tongue while the thought settled somewhere deeper.

Lisa pressed on, cheerful and tireless as ever. "Okay, so no college horror stories yet, but let's shift gears. What's the worst living situation either of you have been in?"

Natalie raised an eyebrow. "That implies I've had more than one. I went straight from my parents' house to my ex's. Never had a roommate."

"Seriously?" Aiden asked, genuinely surprised.

She shrugged. "Lived with my husband until I didn't."

Lisa leaned in with a mock-conspiratorial grin. "And now she's making up for lost time by taking in strays."

"I'm not a stray," Aiden muttered, smirking as he swirled the wine in his glass.

"Tell that to the duffel bag you walked in with," Natalie replied, her tone dry but not unkind.

That drew a soft laugh from Aiden, and for the first time all evening, he seemed to ease into his seat a little more. He wasn't completely comfortable, but the edges of his caution had rounded off.

Lisa gave Natalie a look that said told you so without actually saying it. The conversation drifted on from there--classes, transit nightmares, whether pad see ew was better than drunken noodles. Lisa did most of the heavy lifting, pulling threads and nudging them into a conversation that felt--if not completely natural yet--at least possible.

By the time the food had gone cold and the last sip of wine had disappeared, Lisa stretched and groaned, arms overhead. "Okay, I'm officially done. My back says it's time to lie down."

Natalie stood and began gathering the plates, stacking the empties without much finesse. "You can use the bathroom in my room to get ready for bed."

Lisa waved her off with a lazy gesture, wine glass still in hand. "Door across from the guest bathroom. I remember where everything is."

"Mm-hmm," Natalie murmured, eyeing the wine stain on the edge of a napkin before tossing it into the trash. "Just don't make yourself too comfortable. It's still my bed and I need room to sleep in it too."

Lisa grinned as she rose, wobbling only slightly as she stepped into her flats. "No promises."

Aiden pushed himself up from the chair, still a little stiff but looser than earlier. "I'll head to bed too. Thanks again--for dinner. And, uh... all of it."

"You're welcome," Natalie said, offering a tired smile. "Hall closet has extra towels if you need a second set."

He nodded and lingered for half a second like he wasn't sure what to say next. Then, with a quiet "Goodnight," he disappeared down the hallway toward his room, the door closing gently behind him.

Lisa followed immediately after, heading towards the hall, then Natalie's room with a loose wave. "Don't take too long cleaning. I'm not above locking you out of your own bed."

"Noted," Natalie called after her.

Left alone in the quiet, Natalie turned back to the kitchen. She could've left the mess until morning--no one would've judged her--but something about the clutter rubbed against her nerves. She loaded the dishwasher on autopilot, wiped down the counters, straightened a pair of takeout menus that had slid halfway off the microwave. It wasn't about neatness. It was about reclaiming a little control before everything started again tomorrow.

By the time she turned off the lights and padded softly down the hallway, the apartment had fallen into the familiar late-night hush. She passed the closed guest room door and paused briefly, hearing nothing from inside. It struck her again that he was really here. That tomorrow and the next day and who knows how many after, he'd be behind that door. Eating at her table. Using her space. Sharing her air.

She reached her own bedroom and opened the door.

Lisa was sitting on the edge of the bed, makeup wiped clean, her hair twisted up haphazardly. She looked up as Natalie entered--with an expression that was far too casual for someone holding a bright pink silicone dildo in one hand.

"This was in your nightstand," Lisa said, deadpan. "You upgraded since I last visited."

Natalie froze halfway through closing the door. "Lisa!"

"What?" Lisa laughed, giving it an exaggerated little waggle. "I was looking for chapstick. This isn't it. But I mean... could be."

Natalie sighed and let her head thump lightly against the door. "Why are you like this?"

"Curious. Slightly tipsy. And, to be fair, it's not the worst thing I've found in someone's drawer."

"It's still my drawer."

Lisa grinned, completely unfazed. "You know, I always had you pegged for a traditional girl. This is a nice surprise. It's bigger than I expected you to have too. But I still think you need to try some of my recommendations. There are toys that can do amazing things!"

Natalie walked over and snatched it from her hand, tossing it into the nightstand drawer it came from, without ceremony. "Remind me why I let you sleep in here?"

"Because you love me," Lisa said, pulling back the blanket like nothing had happened. "And because, like I said, I've seen worse."

Natalie groaned and turned toward her dresser, rubbing the back of her neck. "That's not a challenge."

Behind her, Lisa was already under the covers, voice muffled by the pillow. "Maybe not. But it is nice to see you living a little."

Natalie didn't reply. She just stood there for a moment longer, then stepped toward the closet and slipped off her jeans, tossing them into the hamper inside. Her top followed, dropped in the same easy motion, leaving her in a simple black bra and matching panties. Normally, she would've stripped the rest of the way before pulling on the oversized T-shirt still hanging from the doorknob--the last thing left behind by a guy she'd briefly seen not long after moving here.

The relationship hadn't lasted. But for a little while, it had been exciting in a way she hadn't felt in years--new city, new body under hers, a different technique than the slow, predictable routines that filled her marriage toward the end. He was younger, more spontaneous. Eager in a way that made her want to rise to meet it, to prove something. To herself, maybe.

He was also the reason she'd bought the seven-and-a-half-inch dildo now tucked back in the nightstand--the one Lisa had just unearthed--thinking maybe she could train her body to handle him on the nights he wasn't around.

The toy had outlasted the fling. So had the shirt. The goodbye hadn't been dramatic. They just stopped calling each other. No real ending, just a fade-out. Still, on most nights, she slept in that shirt because it was comfortable and reminded her of a man that wasn't her ex-husband.

Tonight, with Lisa here, she left the bra and panties on. Not out of modesty, exactly--more like a courtesy. A quiet acknowledgment that someone else was in her bed.

She turned off the bedside lamp, and the room dipped into a gentle hush.

She slipped under the covers, the sheets cool against her legs. Lisa was already curled on her side, facing her. For a while, neither of them said anything. Just the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional creak of the settling apartment.

Then, Lisa's voice, low and slurred at the edges. "You remember that night in Scottsdale?"

Natalie blinked into the dark. "We agreed never to speak of Scottsdale."

Lisa laughed softly. "I'm not bringing up him. I'm bringing up us." A pause. "You were the one who kissed me first, if I remember right."

"That was a long time ago," Natalie said, voice quieter now. "We were--"

"Drunk. Like tonight."

Natalie rolled to her side, facing away. "It's different now."

Lisa didn't respond right away. She shifted behind her instead, the mattress giving just enough to signal closeness. Then fingers--slow and deliberate--brushed Natalie's bare shoulder, dragging the sheet slightly lower.

"It doesn't have to be," Lisa whispered. "Unless you're not curious anymore."

Natalie exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the far wall. Her body tensed--not in fear, but in conflicted awareness. "Aiden's down the hall."

Lisa's hand paused, resting warm and soft just under her collarbone. "He's asleep. I've done far worse with him two rooms away."

Natalie let out a short, nervous laugh. "I've never been one for an audience."

Lisa's lips brushed her ear, voice low and teasing. "He's not watching, Nat. He's passed out cold. You're not nervous--just making excuses."

Natalie didn't answer. Not right away. Her mind was racing, caught between the low burn Lisa always seemed to know how to stoke and the very real knowledge that this wasn't just a drunken night. There was a twenty-year-old man sleeping across the hall, under her roof, and this--whatever this was--wouldn't just disappear by morning.

But Lisa's hand had already slipped lower, fingertips dragging the edge of the sheet along Natalie's waistline, testing the boundary without fully crossing it.

"Tell me no," Lisa whispered.

Natalie didn't. She heard Lisa shift behind her, felt the faint pull of the covers as the other woman scooted closer.

For a few moments, it was quiet--too quiet. Just the sound of their breathing, slow and uneven, filling the space between them. Every inhale felt louder than it should've, every brush of skin magnified in the stillness of the house. Natalie's pulse thudded in her ears, but her thoughts were elsewhere--half-focused down the hall, where Aiden slept behind a closed door.

She didn't voice the concern. There was no point. Lisa clearly didn't share it. Then Lisa's fingers trailed lightly over the fabric stretched across Natalie's waist.

"You're wound up," she murmured, voice low and close.

Natalie didn't answer right away. Her eyes stayed open, fixed on the dark outline of her dresser. "I'm fine."

"You're not. You're buzzing like you always do when your brain won't let you rest."

Natalie let out a small breath, part laugh, part exhale. "I'm sharing a hallway with your son, remember?"

Lisa's hand slipped a little higher, warm against Natalie's stomach. "I used to live with him, Nat. You think I never had to be quiet?" She chuckled softly. "Trust me, he's not listening for anything."

"He's twenty," Natalie whispered. "He listens to everything."

Still, she didn't stop Lisa's hand as it swept up beneath the edge of her bra. Her body betrayed her first, arching slightly into the touch--slow, unsure, but wanting. Lisa had become part of her orbit in the last year and a half, a presence that blurred lines after too much wine or late-night honesty. It hadn't been like this before the divorce. Before the long stretch of cold nights and longer silences. Lisa had been a friend then, only a friend. But when the marriage ended and Natalie began to feel again--to want, to wonder--Lisa was the one who listened. The one who teased. The one who asked questions no one else dared to.

Lisa pressed in now, her lips brushing the back of Natalie's neck. "You told me the other week how long it's been since anyone touched you, right? Let me."

Natalie bit her lip. "I didn't mean you..."

"You didn't not mean me."

Lisa pressed in now, her lips brushing the back of Natalie's neck. "You told me last month how long it's been since anyone touched you right. Let me."

Natalie bit her lip. "I didn't mean you..."

"You didn't not mean me."

There was a pause--thick with nerves and the weight of knowing better. Lisa's hand skimmed up Natalie's side again, slow and sure, slipping beneath the edge of her bra with quiet confidence. Her palm was hot against bare skin, the touch firm and possessive, like she had every right to be there. Then her thumb found Natalie's nipple--brushing over it once, twice, the pressure light but deliberate. Back and forth, a slow tease, coaxing a response she already knew was coming. Natalie's breath caught, her body leaning ever so slightly into the touch before she could think to stop it. She wasn't just reacting anymore. She was yielding.

"You don't have to overthink it," Lisa whispered, her breath warm against the curve of Natalie's neck. "We're already here."

Natalie stayed still, her body caught between resistance and surrender. It wasn't the first time this had happened--this pull, this slow unpeeling between them--but it had never been quite like this. Not in her own bed. Not with Aiden asleep just across the hall.

Lisa seemed to sense the hesitation and shifted closer, her knee sliding between Natalie's under the sheets, opening her up just a little, hips pressing just enough to stir something low and unwelcome in Natalie's stomach: guilt. Excitement. The edges of fear that made it more real.

"We'll be quiet," Lisa said, barely audible now. "It's okay to want something, Nat. Just let yourself."

Down the hall, Aiden turned over in bed for what felt like the tenth time. The apartment was too quiet. Or maybe not quiet enough. He could hear the distant hum of the refrigerator, the soft buzz of street noise through the shut window... and something else. A voice.

No words--just the murmur of two people talking. It was low muffled and familiar.

At first, he figured they were just laughing again. Something from old times. Some inside joke. But the cadence was different. Slower, softer, uneven in a way that made him feel as though that was reminiscent of how he's heard his mom talk before.

He sat up, squinting toward his closed door. It was probably nothing. He told himself that, still, he didn't move. Just sat there, listening.

Natalie's bra had shifted, Lisa's hand slipping fully beneath now, fingers gently closing around her breast, thumb circling the peak with a familiarity that made Natalie gasp quietly into the pillow. Lisa kissed her shoulder, her mouth soft and lingering as she pressed closer from behind.

"You feel amazing," she whispered. "Always have."

Natalie's voice came out breathless. "Lisa..."

Lisa's hand slid lower, across Natalie's stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of her panties with a slowness that made Natalie tremble. She should've stopped her. Should've said no. But her hips moved instead, betraying her thoughts, tilting back just enough to say yes without speaking a word.

Down the hall, Aiden's brows drew together as he leaned slightly, trying to catch any clue in the pattern of sounds. It still didn't make sense--not quite. But something about it was gnawing at him now. A thread he couldn't let go of.

He laid back down, eyes wide open, heart ticking faster than it had any reason to.

Whatever was happening... he wasn't supposed to hear it.

Just down the hall, Natalie's fears were coming true as Aiden lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop--but once he noticed the sounds, they were hard to ignore. It wasn't talking anymore. Not really. Between the hum of the fridge cycling, something else crept in. A low noise--soft, breathy. Then another. A woman's voice, but not in conversation. More like a moan. Muffled, like it was being swallowed into a pillow.

He held his breath, trying to be still, trying to make sure he wasn't imagining it. But then it came again--quieter this time, followed by what sounded like a whispered word, too soft to make out. His chest tightened as a slow, uneasy recognition started to take hold.

He knew that sound. The tone of it. He'd heard it before--back when he and his mom shared a two-bedroom apartment with walls that didn't do much to keep secrets. Lisa had always tried to be discreet, waiting until late, keeping music on, closing her door--but every now and then, especially after a few drinks, there were moments when her quiet wasn't quiet enough. He'd learned not to think too hard about it. Half the time, he'd never seen the men his mom had brought home, and that fit perfectly with how he felt it should be. If men were going to come and go over the years, it was better if they remained nameless and faceless to him.

But this was different. There was no low hum of a man's voice. No sharp sounds skin on skin to their weight rhythmically shifting, or deep grunts making their way to his room. Just soft gasps, light and feminine, layered with something quieter--a voice coaxing, soothing, maybe even instructing. It was hard to tell through the walls, but it didn't sound unfamiliar. If anything, it sounded like his mother.

He sat up slowly, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, tension rising with every movement. For a few seconds he just sat there, elbows on his knees, listening--careful, uncertain. He didn't want to jump to conclusions. He didn't want to know. But the sounds kept threading through the silence, unmistakable now. Moans. A whispered hush. Movement. And nothing else.

Lisa and Natalie. His throat felt tight, and his mind suddenly crowded. This wasn't what he thought tonight would be. It wasn't what any of this was supposed to be.

And whatever was happening in that room, it definitely wasn't meant for him to hear.

Natalie's breath caught as Lisa's fingers slid lower, the pads of them slow and deliberate against skin that hadn't been touched like this in over a month. The room was dark, but not silent--filled with the quiet sounds of breath and sheets and the subtle shift of bodies pressed together. Lisa's hand moved with a kind of knowing patience, no urgency, no need to prove anything. Just insistent and unyielding.

Natalie stayed on her side, facing away, Lisa's body pressed firmly behind her, the warmth of her chest flush to Natalie's back. A thigh slipped between her legs, nudging gently, coaxing them apart just enough to make space. Lisa's lips brushed along the back of her neck, the words barely more than breath.

"You're so tense," she murmured. "Relax for me."

"I'm trying," Natalie whispered, the words shaky, her body already betraying her. "Just--he's across the hall."

"We're not loud," Lisa said, her voice low and calm, trailing feather light kisses along Natalie's shoulder, and her fingers traced the inside of Natalie's thigh, teasing lightly against her underwear, a single knuckle brushing the soft, damp center. It made Natalie inhale sharply, "I've been louder trying to open a bag of chips. You think I haven't done this before? He's not listening." And then Natalie rolled.

Slowly, carefully, she shifted onto her back, her eyes searching the dark as if it might offer reassurance, her face turning towards Lisa's. She didn't say stop. Didn't move away. Instead, she bent one leg and let her far knee fall to the side, opening herself more fully to Lisa's touch. She gave a soft sound that was half laugh, half groan. "He's not dumb either."

Lisa pulled her in closer, her fingers slipping beneath the last barrier of Natalie's panties, stroking gently until her breath stuttered again. "Then maybe he already knows," she murmured. "And maybe you don't care as much as you say."

Her fingers paused for just a second, then slipped lower, dragging through slick warmth. "God, Nat..." she breathed, almost like a secret. "You're soaked."

Natalie didn't answer. She couldn't--not with Lisa touching her like that, not with the heat building low and fast, not with her back arching and her hand gripping the sheet to keep from making a sound. Her mind flickered again--Aiden, behind that door, awake or asleep, maybe hearing this, maybe not--and it only made the tension coil tighter. But it was Lisa's words that stuck, more than the touch. Maybe he already knows. Maybe you don't care. Natalie wasn't sure what unsettled her more: the idea that it might be true, or the suspicion that Lisa had said it deliberately. Like she wanted the thought of her own son to be there. Like she was using it--to push her, to test her, or maybe even to turn her on.

Lisa's voice was barely audible. "Let it happen. You need this."

And she did. God, she did.

Natalie closed her eyes and let the tension go, letting her body sink into the mattress as Lisa's fingers continued their steady caress of slow circles over her clit that pulsed hotter with every pass. It wasn't rushed--Lisa knew better than to race the moment. Propped up on one elbow, Lisa leaned over her, lips brushing softly along Natalie's shoulder before trailing lower. Her mouth moved lazily across the top of her chest, tongue flicking over the dip between her collarbones, then grazing the upper swell of her breast. She took her time, kissing, tasting, letting her breath warm every patch of skin she passed.

All the while, her fingers never stopped.

They moved in slow, deliberate circles over Natalie's clit--firm, steady pressure with just enough variation to keep her guessing. She'd stroke high, then dip slightly, then circle again, adjusting angle and pace in a rhythm that sent shivers through Natalie's thighs. Every pass built on the last, coaxing her open, her hips rising to meet each stroke before sinking back into the mattress again.

Lisa knew exactly how to keep her just below the edge--right where every nerve was tight and buzzing. She pressed the heel of her palm down against the mound of Natalie's sex while her fingers worked with more precision, slipping slightly lower to tease the entrance before gliding back up, bringing her fluids with them, and with a gentle flick that made Natalie gasp.

A soft moan slipped past Natalie's lips before she could catch it.

Lisa didn't miss it. Her free hand slid under Natalie's head in one smooth motion, fingers threading into her hair. She gave a gentle but deliberate tug, pulling her in, and caught Natalie's mouth in a kiss that was hot and unhesitating. Their lips parted quickly, tongues brushing, the moan swallowed into Lisa's mouth as the constant movement of her hand never faltered.

Reaching back under herself, Natalie unclasped her bra with a practiced flick of her fingers, then wiggled it out one arm at a time while Lisa worked her hand over her slick vagina, never pausing. It hit the floor with a near silent rustle, the delicate fabric landing in a small pile, just as Lisa pushed the sheet aside and slipped down, gaze lingering as Natalie's full breasts were finally revealed.

They were stunning--generous D cups that swelled with each breath, the smooth skin taut and unmarked, nipples already peaked from arousal and anticipation. Lisa paused for just a second, eyes tracing the soft curves with a mixture of reverence and lust. There was a degree of youth there, yes--but also a kind of untouched elegance, unmarred by time or motherhood. Natalie's body still held the shape of someone in her prime, gravity not yet having fully taken root and claimed its toll.

Lisa's own breasts were smaller, more delicate. Years of nursing and age had softened them, though she'd never minded--until moments like this, when envy crept in uninvited and quiet. It wasn't resentment. Just the awareness of what had once been hers, mirrored now in Natalie.

She leaned in and took Natalie's nipple into her mouth--hot, wet, and eager. She sucked gently at first, then with firmer pressure, her tongue circling in slow, confident sweeps that sent heat straight through Natalie's core. Natalie let out a shaky breath, panting through clenched teeth. One hand gripped the sheet tight, anchoring herself. The other found Lisa's shoulder, fingers curling into muscle with every pulse of sensation that rolled through her.

"God," Natalie breathed.

Lisa smiled against her skin, nipped playfully at the nearest nipple, then murmured with wicked satisfaction, "I haven't even started making you see God yet."

And she was right. Lisa wasn't building her to the edge--she was holding her just beneath it, fingers working in slow, precise circles directly against Natalie's bare clit. She'd slipped under her panties long ago, warm skin on slick heat, teasing with maddening patience. Every so often she'd change the angle or pressure, just enough to make Natalie's breath catch--but never enough to push her over. The ache had grown unbearable, a deep, pulsing need that made her thighs tremble and her toes curl tightly into the sheets.

"Please," Natalie whispered, voice cracking around the word. "Take them off."

Lisa didn't answer. Her fingers kept moving, steady and unrelenting, gliding over her with an intimacy that was both tender and merciless. Natalie's hips rolled in response, her back arching, body straining toward more.

"Lisa, please," she gasped again. "Take them off. I need--"

Lisa pulled her hand away suddenly, leaving her empty and throbbing. She sat up slightly, eyes dark, lips parted, her fingers still glistening in the low light.

"Get your toy," she said, quiet but commanding, the words cutting off Natalie, through the haze in her head.

Natalie blinked at her in the dark. "Now?"

Lisa remained quiet. Instead, she leaned in and kissed her--soft at first, then deeper. Her tongue slipped between Natalie's lips with a slow, teasing press that made Natalie melt into the mattress all over again. It was a passionate kiss. One that was different from what any of the men had achieved, not that those kisses weren't good as well. But this was confident, and intentional as only Lisa has ever managed with her. By the time Lisa pulled back, both of them were breathless.

"I want it," she murmured against Natalie's mouth. "And I want you to use it."

Flushed and dazed, Natalie shifted up and leaned over the side of the bed, her fingers fumbling slightly as she opened the nightstand drawer. Her hand found the toy--solid and familiar--and she paused, just for a moment, feeling the weight of it in her palm. She'd used it on herself more times than she could count, but never on someone else. And never like this. The idea of where it had been--and where it was going--sent a dizzy rush through her chest and down between her legs.

When she turned back, Lisa was already pulling her pajama top over her head, revealing smooth, flushed skin and small, elegant breasts that rose with each breath. In the low light, she looked soft and wild all at once. Her shorts followed next, pushed down and off with one practiced motion. She was completely nude now, compact and lithe, her shorter frame glowing against the taller, broader lines of Natalie's.

Just outside the bedroom door, Aiden hovered barefoot in the darkened hallway, heart pounding like it was trying to shake loose from his ribs. At first, he hadn't meant to move. But then the sounds grew clearer. Not loud--but unmistakable. They were breathless and strained. A moan that didn't belong in laughter, followed by a hushed voice that was definitely his mother's. He couldn't hear words. But the tone... the tone said everything. There was no denying that the tone was the same he'd hear many times over the years. The difference was that this time he wasn't trying to block it out.

Back inside, Natalie was still in her panties--but not for long. Lisa straddled one of her legs, her slick warmth settling on the smooth skin of Natalie's shin as she leaned down, and hooked her thumbs into the waistband. She dragged the last piece of fabric down slowly, her eyes locked on Natalie's the entire time.

Lisa lingered just long enough to dip her head and kiss the slick center of Natalie's sex, the thin landing strip of pubic hair brushing her nose. Her tongue moved slowly, but deliberately, drawing a low, helpless sound from Natalie's throat.

"God, you're dripping for me," she murmured, voice husky against her skin. "You're going to ruin the sheets."

Natalie's thighs trembled, her hand tightening around the toy she still held. The idea of using it on someone else--on Lisa--landed with sudden force. She knew every inch of it, what it felt like inside her, how it stretched and filled. And now she was going to share that. Use it. She was going to press it inside someone else. Let Lisa feel something that had only ever touched her--something private, familiar, and hers alone until now.

It should've made her hesitate. Instead, it made her wetter.

Lisa sat back, lips glistening, eyes half-lidded with hunger. "I want to ride your mouth while you use it on me," she whispered, crawling forward until her knees framed Natalie's shoulders. "Like last time, but now I want you to fill me up with that lovely new toy of yours while you do it."

Outside, Aiden stood frozen, pulse thudding in his ears. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. And whatever shred of doubt he'd still been holding onto... was gone.

Lisa moved with fluid confidence, swinging her leg over Natalie and reversing her position with practiced ease. She settled over her, thighs tucked on either side of Natalie's head, her slick warmth hovering just inches from her mouth. Natalie slid down the bed slightly to make room, heart pounding, hands instinctively finding Lisa's hips as the petite woman began to lower herself.

Her scent hit Natalie instantly--intoxicating, warm, thick with arousal. It flooded her senses in the best way, grounding her in the moment even as the toy beside her rolled into the bend of her elbow with the shifting of the bed. A subtle nudge. A reminder that it was there. Waiting. Ready to serve its purpose as soon as she was.

Above her, Lisa shifted slightly, adjusting her balance as she settled into place. The smooth, pale skin of her thighs framed Natalie's face, the muscles soft but firm against her cheeks. Her legs were slender, leaving just enough space for Natalie's arms to wrap around them with ease--an invitation without a word.

Lisa leaned forward, bracing herself with one hand near Natalie's hip while the other slid down with practiced intent, parting her folds with her fingers and finding Natalie's slick center. She moaned again, this time with clear satisfaction, fingers stroking confidently--back into that relentless rhythm that had Natalie gasping into the space between her thighs.

Above, Lisa ground her hips slowly, her sex brushing Natalie's mouth with a needy, rhythmic pressure.

"You better use that toy soon," she breathed. "Because I'm not sure how long I'm going to last."

Outside the door, Aiden stood frozen, barely breathing. He'd been there for a while now, drawn by sounds that had started as soft, almost ignorable whispers--movement, a quiet moan, maybe laughter. But now they were unmistakable.

He hadn't moved since the last time he heard her cry out.

Another gasp followed, sharper this time, high and breathy. The bed creaked faintly, the rhythm behind it building, steady and physical. His pulse surged.

The voices were clearer now--still muffled, but layered in a way that left no room for doubt. One of them was Natalie, overriding the awkwardness of listening to his own mother.

He swallowed; he'd always thought she was beautiful. Not in a way that felt reachable--she'd always seemed too refined, too self-contained. Back when she'd visit their place, she'd breeze through in work clothes, her hair done, voice polite, but detached. She'd barely said more than a few words to him.

Now she was behind that door, moaning, breathless. Completely different than the version he'd ever known. And Aiden couldn't stop listening.

This wasn't just seeing her differently--it was learning something about her. Something unfiltered and private. The kind of erotic knowledge you weren't supposed to have about someone you knew. Much less about your mom. And yet, he didn't move. Didn't even want to.

Inside the room, Natalie took a shaky breath and lifted the toy from the mattress beside her. Her fingers trembled slightly as she adjusted her grip, slick with sweat and anticipation as she hefted its weight. The thick dildo was cool in her hand, heavy, and suddenly personal in a way it had never been before. It had always been hers. Something private. But now, it was going to bring her best friend pleasure, only she'd known from it.

She hesitated for only a moment, then slid her arms around Lisa's thighs--suddenly aware of how smooth her skin was, and her warmth radiating against her arms. Her frame was compact enough to draw close without effort. Natalie pulled her in, guiding Lisa's sex to hover just above her face as her own legs shifted apart, inviting the pressure of Lisa's mouth back onto her.

Lisa didn't resist. She leaned in eagerly, burying her face between Natalie's legs as if she needed it--her tongue finding her clit with practiced confidence, drawing a breathless moan from deep in Natalie's throat.

As she began to move her hips, Natalie reached between Lisa's parted thighs, guiding the toy slowly through her slick folds. The sensation of Lisa's body rocking above her, lips working harder now to match the pace, sent a jolt of heat all the way down her spine.

When Natalie eased the tip of the toy forward, nudging just inside, Lisa moaned--directly into her.

The vibration of that sound against her clit made Natalie cry out. Her fingers tightened around the base of the toy, pushing a little deeper. Lisa groaned again, the sound wetter, a sense of need rising, and redoubled her efforts. Her tongue circled faster as her hips began to roll back into the toy with greedy insistence.

Natalie could barely breathe. Every flick of Lisa's tongue, every flex of her hips, every slick pull of the toy as it pushed deeper made her feel like she was unraveling at both ends.

God, he shouldn't be listening. He knew that. But he couldn't stop. Instead, Aiden stood at the door, imaging everything he was hearing.

Inside, Natalie arched upward, caught up in the sensation of Lisa between her thighs. Lisa's mouth moved hungrily against her, tongue circling with firm, focused strokes that sent heat pouring through her. Every moan Lisa made was muffled but intense, rumbling against her clit like it was the only thing that mattered. Natalie's fingers gripped the toy tighter as she drove it deeper into Lisa's dripping core, the glide smoother now, her pace guided by the desperate pace Lisa set with her hips.

Then Lisa reached forward, still working Natalie with her mouth, and slipped two fingers deep inside her. Natalie cried out, her thighs trembling as she rocked her hips up into the touch. The feeling was overwhelming--Lisa's fingers curling, tongue flicking, the toy thrusting in her hand--it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

"Fuck," she gasped. "Lisa..."

Lisa groaned in response, the sound buzzing against her. And still, she didn't slow. She pressed her free hand lower, moving to cup her ass and pull Natalie into her mouth. It slipped back until her fingers accidently grazed the tight entrance Natalie had only ever touched alone. Then, quietly, Natalie gave voice to something new.

"Can you..." She hesitated, breath trembling. "Slip a finger in my ass?"

Outside the door, Aiden groaned hearing her desperate question. It wasn't planned. It wasn't even loud. But it slipped past his lips before he could stop it, a low, involuntary sound punched out of him by sheer tension. He froze, wide-eyed, heart hammering in his chest as he stared into the darkness of the hall before retreating to his own room for safety.

Unknown to him, neither woman reacted to his errant moan. Lisa paused for only a heartbeat. Her mouth stilled against Natalie's sex as her eyes widened, the words catching her off guard. That wasn't something Natalie would have asked before--not the version of her she knew. The one who often kept her voice low, and more often than not, waited to be led. But this version? She was bold. Open. Desperate in the most beautiful way.

Lisa lifted her head just enough to murmur, "The fuck did you just say?" her voice low and thick with arousal.

Natalie didn't answer right away. Her breath came in shallow bursts, her voice barely more than a whisper as she spoke into the warm, dark space between Lisa's thighs. "Don't judge me for that," she said, responding to Lisa's question. The words laced with vulnerability despite the hunger that still pulsed in every part of her.

Lisa's expression softened, unseen but felt in the way her body stilled for a beat, her next breath thick with desire. "Judge you?" she breathed. "I love you for it."

She adjusted her weight, one hand bracing, the other moving with practiced care--slick and sure--as her fingers pressed with slow intention. This wasn't a regular occurrence for her, slipping a finger inside someone's backdoor, but the way Natalie asked, made it sound like the sexiest idea in the world in that moment.

Natalie gasped, her body tightening in response to the combination of fullness, heat, and pressure, making her clamp down in waves. Her breath caught again--not just from the sensation, but from the sudden bloom of embarrassment in her chest. She hadn't meant to say it out loud--or maybe she had. But with everything Lisa already knew about her, about the things she wanted and the parts she tried to hide, who else could she have asked? If not her best friend--her sometime lover when convenience and desire aligned--then who?

Lisa shifted slightly, her breath catching as Natalie adjusted the angle of the dildo and drove it deeper with a smooth repetitive thrusting. Her slick walls clenched around it instinctively, her hips rolling to meet the steady invasion. She was full--deliciously, achingly full--and the stretch only made her grind harder, her thighs tightening around Natalie's head as she tried to stay in control. But it was slipping. Every movement pushed her closer.

Below, Natalie moaned into her, her mouth working in tandem with the slow thrusts of her hand. She felt every grind of Lisa's hips, every ripple of arousal, and it spurred her on. But her own body was no longer quiet. The pressure building inside her was different now--more intense, more vulnerable. She gasped sharply as Lisa's slick fingertip alternated circling her back entrance, then slipping back inside, teasing and unrelenting.

Then she pressed a second finger in.

Natalie's body tensed, breath catching as they both slid past that tight ring of muscle. Lisa didn't pull her hand away from Natalie's pussy--her fingers there kept moving, two buried to the knuckle, stroking in rhythm as her other hand now continued a second slow invasion. The dual sensation sent a shockwave through Natalie's entire body. She felt stretched, filled, pinned open in a way she'd never experienced--never allowed herself to before.

She moaned helplessly, thighs shaking, lips parting against Lisa's soaked flesh as she bucked into every flick of her tongue. Lisa matched her movement, eyes fluttering shut as she rode Natalie's mouth harder, her own breath turning ragged, her voice reduced to guttural, needy sounds between gasps.

They were completely tangled now--two halves of a pulse, wet and frenzied, their bodies responding like they'd done this a hundred times, and somehow, like it was completely new. Lisa was panting through clenched teeth, grinding with abandon as the toy filled her with every thrust, and Natalie writhed under her, lost in the overwhelming fullness of being taken in two places at once.

Her hands tightened around Lisa's thighs, her mouth frantic, her body stretched to its limit and trembling from the inside out. The pressure had built beyond control, coiled so tight it almost hurt. She didn't know which sensation was pushing her over--the fullness, the motion, the sheer audacity of being this open, this completely unraveled beneath someone who knew her so intimately. Maybe it was all of it. Maybe it didn't matter.

Lisa's breath broke into ragged pieces, her hips stuttering mid-grind as the wave caught her. She clenched hard around the toy, her thighs tightening around Natalie's head as a sharp cry escaped her lips. She buried her face deeper into Natalie's mound, her mouth locking onto her clit in a desperate attempt to muffle the sounds rising from her own throat. Her body shook, trembling from the depth of release--and still, Natalie didn't let up. Her hand stayed steady, driving the toy through every pulse, every ripple that tore through Lisa's core.

Natalie had held her own climax back, riding the edge as long as she could, caught in the intensity of Lisa's orgasm. But as Lisa's hips began to slow, her gasps softening, the wave easing, Natalie finally let go. Her orgasm surged forward like it had been waiting for permission--blinding to a pitch she hadn't experienced in several months. Not since the first time she experimented with that forbidden entrance herself. She cried out beneath Lisa, her legs locking, back arching, body clenching around the sudden flood of sensation.

Lisa felt it--the way Natalie's body seized up beneath her, the way her thighs trembled and breath shattered--and it pulled her back into focus. She realized she'd let herself drift, gone slack in the aftermath of her own pleasure. But not now. Not when Natalie was trembling beneath her.

Driven by a mix of instinct and raw need, Lisa latched on again, her mouth sealing over Natalie's clit as her fingers worked deeper inside her. She chased the movement of Natalie's hips, tongue circling fast and unrelenting, fingers curling hard against the spot that made her jerk and gasp. But Natalie's body was moving of its own accord now--wild, pulsing, unpredictable. Lisa wasn't guiding anymore--she was hanging on, trying to keep up as Natalie bucked beneath her, her body going over the edge in a rush that neither of them could stop.

Natalie was lost in it--completely overwhelmed. Every flick of Lisa's tongue, every deep stroke of her fingers pushed her further, until the orgasm tore through her. It came in waves, sharper each time, her body jolting with every pass. She couldn't catch her breath, or form words--only broken sounds from the back of her throat. Her hands gripped Lisa's ass, fingers digging in. Somewhere in the chaos, the toy had been pushed aside, forgotten and resting near her head, having been ejected by Lisa in the final surge of her own climax.

They moved through it together--one riding the aftershocks, the other giving all she had left to carry her through. And when it finally settled--when both of them were wrung out, breathless and still--it wasn't quiet from awkwardness, but a feeling of satisfaction neither had felt in months.

Lisa slowly eased herself off Natalie, her body slick and trembling, legs unsteady as she rolled to the side and collapsed beside her. Their skin slick where it met, but neither seemed to mind. Natalie shifted toward her, tucking her arm around Lisa's waist, letting her cheek rest against her shoulder. The silence between them was weighted, but soft, spent, and sated. Their breath fell into the same rhythm.

Lisa was the first to move. She pressed a kiss to Natalie's hairline, then slid carefully out of bed. "Water," she mumbled, her voice hoarse. "You stay. I'll get it."

She reached down, snagging Natalie's robe from the foot of the bed. It was oversized, well-worn, and smelled faintly like laundry detergent and skin. Lisa shrugged it on and padded quietly to the door, opening it just wide enough to slip into the hallway.

The apartment was dim, still holding onto its nighttime hush. She paused for a second outside Natalie's room, her hand resting against the doorframe, listening. Nothing. Aiden's room was totally silent. No creak of a floorboard, no rustle of movement. The kind of stillness that read as sleep.

Lisa smirked and turned her head back toward the bed. "See?" she called softly. "Fast asleep. Not a sound. Told you there was nothing to worry about."

Natalie let out a relieved breath from where she lay tangled in the sheets. She believed it. She wanted to believe it. "Good," she said, her voice still thick. "I'd die if he ever knew."

Lisa chuckled under her breath as she disappeared down the hall toward the kitchen.

But Aiden wasn't asleep. He'd heard everything. He lay frozen in bed, one hand still gripped around himself beneath the covers, the wet mess cooling on his stomach and chest. He hadn't dared move since the door creaked open, his breath caught so tight in his throat it had made him light-headed. He'd come to the mental image of them--Natalie's voice, her moans, the soft sound of bodies moving--and when he'd heard the door open, he'd gone completely still, afraid even the sound of his heartbeat might give him away.

Now, hearing his mom's voice--light, confident, completely unaware--something inside him twisted. It wasn't guilt, exactly. It was something murkier. Something heavier. Something that lurked just beneath the skin. There was no way of forgetting what he'd just heard his mom doing. And how she'd made Natalie beg and moan for more.

He let go of himself slowly, jaw tight, and wiped his hand on the edge of the sheet. The room was still thick with his own scent, the heat, the pressure, the shock of release. In the quiet room he could hear the sound of the fridge opening, the clink of a glass, and the soft return of footsteps barely registered before it all faded into silence again.

He stared at the ceiling, skin still flushed, heart slowly coming down from its high. None of it had been imagined. The sounds were real. His mom initiating sex with Natalie--real. The way Natalie had begged--real. The way his body had answered, with nothing but instinct and need--real. The internal visual of both women--unforgettable.

Slip a finger in my ass.

The memory of her voice made his chest tighten. Not just because of what she'd said, but also how she'd said it. A desperate and embarrassed need. And even after he'd rushed back to his room, his heart pounding after a moan escaped him, there was no question about what happened next. His mom had done as was requested. From there, neither of the women lasted much longer.

He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, the sheets twisted around his legs, his body still sensitive with the idea of what just happened. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring--whether she'd look at him differently, whether he would. He doubted they'd ever speak of it. There was no version of reality where it would be okay to admit he'd listened. That he'd invaded their privacy. That he couldn't stop himself from getting off to the sounds that drifted into his room, leaving no doubt about what was happening.

But that didn't mean he couldn't think about it. Didn't mean he wouldn't. It would probably stay what it was: a secret kept on the other side of a closed door.

Still, there were so many new thoughts to reconcile, so much to come to terms with. Things he never would've expected. Not from her. Not from himself. Not from his mom.