Life of Anne Pt. 04 - Rebuilding

Dear reader,

Welcome to the fourth installment of Life of Anne. And wow, what a life Anne's been living. Nothing's ever smooth sailing, just like in real life, right?

This part includes some scenes with a man, which I know might not be everyone's cup of tea. So, consider yourself warned. But try to look past that, because at its heart, this story is about Anne and her journey of self-discovery.

To really get the full picture, you'll want to read parts one through three first, they're all on my author page. I hope you'll enjoy Anne's journey of discovery just as much as I have.

NightAelf

******

Rebuilding

Rotterdam felt like a new beginning. A city of chances. Of possibilities. The only thing it shared with the other places I'd lived the past years was the sound of the trams. In the village where I grew up, there was only a bus. Once an hour. And if you missed it, well, too bad.

Living on my own took some getting used to. I had my own room, a new school, a whole new rhythm. But I liked it. More than I expected. I had started the new year of my program and threw myself into the work. The technical classes, the smell of ink in the print shop, the feeling of doing something real with my hands. It grounded me. It gave me purpose. I was good at it, too. My supervisor saw it, and gave me space to grow. There was something about taking charge that came naturally to me.

Marley and I weren't together anymore, but I'd still visit her when she wasn't drowning in her internship. We knew how to enjoy each other. That hadn't changed.

The room I rented wasn't far from school, and my landlady, Sarah, was kind enough. My dad had insisted I find a place with a landlady because he worried I'd be completely alone and maybe slip back into another breakdown.

Sarah was twenty eight, renting out a few rooms in the old house that had once belonged to her grandparents. The house had been passed down to her parents, who moved to France a couple of years before. Sometimes Sarah thought about selling it when the bills piled up, but the house was bound by family agreements to remain in their possession.

The house stood in the Oude Binnenhaven, a part of town barely spared by the Second World War. In just twenty minutes, the heart of Rotterdam had been almost completely destroyed, bombs reduced grand mansions and bustling streets to rubble and silence. Most of the area was rebuilt in the years that followed, but Sarah's house, and a few others nearby, were among the rare survivors from before the bombing. These old buildings carried their own stories, their own scars and imperfections, standing as living witnesses to a past that refused to be erased.

For Sarah, the house was more than shelter. It was a legacy, a living memory of family and history. Every floorboard whispered secrets, every window held a past she wasn't ready to forget. The neighborhood changed, ships disappeared, but this old house stayed, a quiet witness to all that had been.

Therapy had taught me that a tidy space helped keep my mind clear. I wasn't naturally messy, but my need for order turned almost military. Everything had to be put away before I left the room. If I thought I forgot something, I'd turn back to fix it. Maybe it was obsessive, but it kept me grounded here, in this strange new city. And right then, that mattered more than anything.

I stood by the window, eyes drifting to the water in the harbor. Gentle waves lapped at the quay, steady and constant like a heartbeat I didn't have to make myself. Here, in this quiet rhythm, I could breathe. Outside, the world spun wild and unpredictable. Inside, I held the reins tight.

There were only girls living in the house. I shared the kitchen and bathroom with Gabrielle. And I hated it. She left dishes to rot in the sink, took clean plates from my cupboard when she ran out of her own, turned the shower into a disaster zone. The toilet wasn't much better.

I tried to shrug it off. Maybe a normal person wouldn't care that much, but the stress building up inside me was too loud to ignore.

My parents had talked to Sarah before I moved in. They explained everything that had happened and made me promise to speak up if things got too heavy again. I really tried to get better, but the breakdown was still fresh. I couldn't just flip a switch and change overnight. Sometimes the medication kept me standing but dulled my senses at the same time. I wasn't always aware of how bad things were or when I was slipping. It wasn't that I was pretending nothing was wrong, sometimes I simply didn't realize it. That's why I was still in therapy, still working on myself. It wasn't an easy road.

I had discovered that cooking calmed me down. The steady rhythm of peeling potatoes, chopping vegetables, marinating meat, I loved every bit of it. It helped me unwind after a long day.

But that evening, when I got home from school and headed to the kitchen to start prepping dinner, I found a war zone. Pans and plates stacked haphazardly, dirty glasses jammed together, sticky leftovers clinging to everything. Nothing had been cleaned. Nothing was usable.

Something in me snapped.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I swept everything off the counter. The crash of glass and ceramic hitting the floor echoed off the walls. Sarah came rushing upstairs and found me sitting on the kitchen floor, surrounded by shards and sauce and bits of food. I hadn't even noticed the cut on my arm until I saw her face pale. She carefully stepped over the broken pieces and knelt beside me, speaking softly, coaxing me to my feet.

She wrapped an arm around my waist and helped me back to my room. The contrast between the disaster in the kitchen and the sterile neatness of my bedroom was almost ridiculous.

I stood there, frozen. Unable to think, unable to breathe properly. The panic was rising in my chest and I began to hyperventilate.

Sarah didn't flinch. She grabbed a clean sweater and joggers from my dresser and gently coaxed me toward the bathroom.

"Come on," she said kindly. "Let's get you into a hot shower."

She led me there, but when she flipped on the light, something made her hesitate. A moment later, she switched it off again and said, "You can use mine instead."

Still dazed and trembling, I followed her down to her floor. Her hand stayed warm in mine until we reached the bathroom. She gently helped me out of my clothes and guided me into the shower. I didn't resist. I didn't need to.

She left the door slightly open.

The heat calmed me. Steam wrapped around me like a soft blanket. I let the water run over my body and tried not to think about what I'd done.

But of course, I did.

Why did I always let things escalate? Why couldn't I just stay level?

When I finally turned off the water, a soft towel was waiting for me. I dried off and pulled on the clean clothes Sarah had given me.

Only then did I really look around her bathroom. Pretty little Provençal sachets lined the shelves, delicate jars and soft-smelling soaps everywhere. As I bent to toss the towel into the laundry hamper, I noticed something, my underwear was already in there. I hesitated for a second. Should I take it back? Or just leave it?

I reached in, feeling slightly embarrassed. But as I grabbed my bra, a soft black pair of panties came with it. I held them for a second, longer than I meant to. There was something intimate in the fabric, in the scent. A flicker ran down my spine.

Startled by my own reaction, I let go quickly, tossed everything back, and stepped into the hallway.

Sarah was in the kitchen and called out, "Coffee's ready!"

I padded into her living room, cheeks still warm, and muttered an apology about the kitchen.

"Anne," she said, cutting me off mid-sentence. "Stop. Sit down and drink your coffee. We'll sort it out in a minute."

I sat down beside her. Tried to calm my thoughts. Tried not to think about the black lace or how close she'd been just minutes ago. She was beautiful, I suddenly realized. I don't know why I hadn't seen it before. The soft curls in her dark blond hair, the grey-green of her eyes, the shape of her mouth.

She'd argued with Gabrielle before, she told me. About the mess. She knew it wasn't me. In fact, she had quietly suspected I might be a bit obsessive. Not unkindly. Just observant.

She'd already decided Gabrielle needed to go. Said she'd look for someone else to take the room. Someone calmer. I asked, quietly, what we'd do about the damage.

"We'll clean it up," she said. "Together. And if anything's broken, we'll sort it with insurance. No big deal."

I exhaled, deeply. The weight on my chest lifted, just a little.

Later, we tackled the kitchen together. The damage was less than I feared. And it went quickly. When my hand started bleeding again, Sarah walked with me to my room, opened my first aid kit, and cleaned the wound. Then, with a small smile, she kissed the bandage like you would a child's scraped knee.

Something in me fluttered. Her eyes met mine for a second too long, and I had to look away. She touched my cheek and kissed it lightly, then went back downstairs.

Two days later, I came home to find a plastic bag hanging on my doorknob. My underwear. Washed and folded. Inside, tucked neatly between the fabric, was a note and, a black pair of panties.

The note said only:

"Dear Anne, almost everything's been washed."

My cheeks flushed as I read it. Had she noticed? How did she know?

I couldn't tell. But I wasn't sure I wanted the answer just yet.

Things settled down for a while, and Gabrielle moved out. Christy moved in.

Christy was a breath of fresh air. Fun, laid-back, and allergic to mess. Compared to my last housemate, she was an absolute relief. She had a boyfriend too, and even though overnight male guests weren't allowed, she still managed to get her fill during the day and evening.

Sometimes, when her moans and breathy giggles slipped through the walls, I'd get so turned on I couldn't help myself.

Sarah's black panties had found a permanent spot under my pillow. When I touched myself, I'd press my face into them, breathing in a scent that had long faded but still lived somewhere in my memory.

I found myself going out of my way to bump into Sarah. Literally. If she was heading downstairs and I was coming up, I'd time it so we'd meet on the narrow part of the stairs. We'd pause there for just a moment, bodies close, eyes locking. And something flickered in that space between us.

I started wondering what would happen if I tested the waters. Just a little.

That morning, I had slipped into my nicest purple panties. Later, instead of tossing them in the laundry, I tucked them into the little plastic bag Sarah hung on my doorknob with a note.

"Dear Sarah, this one hasn't been washed either."

I hung it on her doorknob and scurried back to my room, heart pounding.

I hoped I hadn't misread the signals, but honestly, the thrill was worth it. The boldness. The risk. The wicked little grin that lingered on my lips the rest of the night.

Studying for my exam was practically impossible with how wet I was

The next day, just as I walked in, Sarah was coming down the stairs. She was already near the bottom, but I was just quick enough to land next to her on the last few steps.

This time, we stood a little longer than usual. Close. Closer than necessary. I noticed a flush on her cheeks, that soft pink that gives everything away. Then, without a word, she leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before disappearing down the last few steps.

I floated up the stairs. Two flights, barely feeling the effort. And there it was. That familiar little plastic bag, hanging from my doorknob like a secret.

I almost ripped it open on the spot, but made myself slow down. I took off my coat, flopped down on the couch, and only then reached for the bag.

Inside was a deep burgundy pair of panties. Soft lace. Elegant. With a note pinned on top:

"If I wash yours, will you wash mine?"

My breath caught. I lifted the fabric to my face and, God. That smell. Warm, sweet, unmistakably hers. The fabric was still damp.

I tucked it under my pillow, right next to the black one, and felt a shiver go through me. The signals were no longer subtle. Sarah was playing, and she was playing well.

Still, I didn't want to rush it. I wanted to see how bold she really was.

So I said nothing. For two whole days. We didn't run into each other on the stairs, and I made no move to reach out. But every time I passed my door, I glanced at the handle, hoping for something.

On the third day, I made my move. I took the purple bra I'd been wearing all day and slipped it into a new bag. I added a note:

"A set's better when it's complete."

I tiptoed downstairs, heart pounding, and hung it on her doorknob. Just as I was heading back up, I heard the front door swing open. Sarah's voice. Christy's laughter.

I had been just in time. The adrenaline made me giddy. I could hardly focus. An hour or two later, there was a soft knock at my door. I jumped up from the couch and opened it.

"Can I come in?" Sarah asked. I opened the door all the way and stepped aside to let her in.

"Want something to drink?" "A Coke would be nice," she said, settling into my couch like it was hers.

She was in her joggers and a loose hoodie, but the mischief in her eyes told me she hadn't come up just for soda. I sat down next to her, close enough to touch, and she immediately wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

Her body was warm and soft against mine. My head found its place on her shoulder, and I nuzzled lightly into her neck. She smelled faintly of perfume and something else, something more raw and real. I felt the heat bloom in my belly. My hand moved without much thought, fingers finding the zipper of her hoodie. I pulled it down just a little, and the soft curve of her chest appeared, framed perfectly by lavender lace. My lavender lace. My breath hitched.

She was wearing my bra.

It fit her so perfectly I almost forgot how to breathe. My hand hovered, then lightly traced the edge of the fabric. I could feel the warmth of her skin through the smooth material. Her breath hitched too.

I leaned closer, brushed my lips near her collarbone. Her skin trembled. When I finally looked up, her eyes were already on me. Something passed between us, wordless and electric. I reached for her face and pulled her into a kiss, soft, slow, but hungry. Her tongue twisted around mine, licking and biting my lips. I got even hornier than usual from kissing, hips pressing forward, hungry for more. I jumped up from the couch, peeling off my shirt as I crossed the two meters to my bed. Sarah followed, pushing me down onto the mattress. I slid back a little and she settled between my legs. Our mouths found each other again, eager and hungry. After that brief pause, the fire inside me flared up again, hotter than before.

I felt a huge spasm in my pussy and when Sarah pinched my nipple I suddenly orgasmed spontaneously. Quickly I got rid of my last clothes and when I wanted to undress Sarah quickly pushed me back. I sat completely naked with a soaking wet pussy watching Sarah taking off her clothes for me like a true striptease dancer.

Besides my purple bra, she was also wearing my purple panties, and she swayed her hips teasingly right in front of my face. I placed my hands on her stomach and pulled her closer, pressing her hips against my face. She smelled amazing, and faintly I caught my own scent too. So she hadn't washed my panties before putting them on.

I drew her up onto my lap and let my hands roam over her entire body. Her breasts got the most attention. Eventually, I slipped the purple set off her and threw her back onto my bed. I felt incredible, soaking in the sight of her slim, radiant body.

I knew the scent of her arousal well by now, but with her legs spread before me, dripping with white desire, she smelled even better than I'd imagined. It had been a while since I'd had another woman in my bed besides Marley, but from the sounds she made, I must have been doing something right.

My body relaxed into a quiet calm after my spontaneous release, but my hands and mouth kept exploring every inch of her glowing skin. I teased around her, careful to avoid the most sensitive places, at least for a while, licking the delicate lines of her thighs and the soft curves behind her knees.

"Anne," she moaned softly, "you have the kind of touch that drives any woman wild."

Beneath my tongue, she writhed and gasped, pressing herself closer each time I neared her most intimate place. Finally, I let myself drift slowly between her legs, circling with gentle, teasing movements. It was almost too much for her, but I wasn't about to let her come just yet.

I traced the damp heat with my tongue, savoring every moment, every sigh. My fingers joined the dance, moving slowly inside her, discovering the tightness I hadn't expected. Yet her eagerness made every touch easy, every movement natural.

She twisted beneath me, eyes fluttering, murmurs slipping from her lips, caught between pleasure and surprise. I found a steady rhythm, my tongue and fingers working in harmony, keeping her right on the edge.

When her orgasm finally swept through her, it was intense, breathtaking. I paused, startled by the force of it, but she urged me on with a whispered command. Slowly, her body settled, shivers rippling down her legs. I couldn't resist tracing a finger lightly over her, watching her reaction, knowing the game wasn't quite over yet.

My bed was soaked with the wet traces of our desire. Her warmth lingered beneath me and I quickly became aroused again. I slid down to sit on her belly, careful not to overwhelm her, and let the gentle friction between us slowly build. My body moved in gentle circles, my clit gently against her skin, teasing myself closer and closer to the edge. And over.

Sarah lay beneath me, spent but still holding onto my legs. Exhausted, I collapsed beside her, but the narrow bed left little room for us both. She whispered in my ear, a mischievous invitation, "Come to my bed?"

I smiled, grateful for the escape, and after gathering a few things and turning off the lights, I followed her quietly. On the way, we bumped into Christy, who caught the tone without a word. She winked knowingly and laughed, "Sounds like you two had a good time."

Relieved, I let out a breath and followed Sarah down the stairs, ready for whatever came next.

Sarah and I saw each other almost every day now, but I was clear about one thing: school came first, everything else second. We agreed it wasn't a relationship. We liked each other a lot and had a great time together, but I wasn't ready to tie myself down again. With Sarah, I could share everything, and it became easier to talk about my past.

She'd had relationships with both women and men, and one day she asked me what I thought about men. That question caught me off guard. The truth was, I didn't think much about men. Or women, really. I told her that for me, it was about people, that gender didn't really matter.

Generally, I wasn't focused on men or women. Whatever came my way, came my way. That's just how I'd always seen it. From the moment I discovered sex, it was just sex. I never worried about whether it was with a man or a woman, or anything else. I didn't label myself, I was simply Anne.

More and more, Sarah started sharing her fantasies with me, and things between us got pretty intense. Often, her stories involved threesomes with a man. Honestly, the idea intrigued me too. I had one condition: I had to feel good about the guy. Sarah was totally fine with that.

Sarah also struggled a bit with jealousy about my first time being a threesome. It had never been planned, and that blew her mind. Yeah, I'd realized it wasn't exactly typical, the way things had happened. But I didn't feel like I was ahead or behind anyone else. It was just how it was. Still, for Sarah, having a threesome remained a real dream she wanted to experience someday.

She started searching through personal ads to find a man who'd fit with us. I left that part entirely to her and made it clear I didn't want anything to do with it.

Sarah's search took her down all kinds of roads, and I let her go. I didn't need to know every detail, but she told me anyway, sometimes with a grin, sometimes with a sigh. Her stories were full of men, casual, messy, intense and from what I could tell, she wasn't exactly picky. She liked to be wanted. It didn't shock me. It was just her way of feeling alive.

She always said that sex with men was physical, straightforward. It scratched an itch. But with women, with me, it was different. That's where she found softness. Safety. The kind of touch that stayed in your body long after it was over.

She was still searching, though. Still unsure if she'd ever be able to truly love a man, to build something lasting. And maybe she never would. But that didn't matter then. What mattered was us. The way we fit, even without a label. The way we kept showing up for each other in this strange, beautiful thing we had.

And for me, that was more than enough.

I often stayed over at Sarah's place, and one day when I came home from work, she nearly threw herself at me right by the door.

"I think I found him," she said, eyes shining.

His name was David, twenty-eight, from Friesland. He was temporarily working in Rotterdam's harbor area as a financial consultant for a big company and he was living in the city for a while. She'd already gone on a date with him once, and surprisingly, he was the only one she hadn't slept with. Something about him just felt right. She had this gut feeling if there was anyone she wanted to explore together with me, it was him. That's how David entered our lives.

I told Sarah I'd like to meet him sometime. She kissed me wild and hungry, and before long, we ended up in bed, wrapped up in a fireworks display of passion.

Sarah had made plans to meet David the following Saturday at 8 p. m. We were going out for drinks somewhere in De Oude Binnenhaven, known for its charming old buildings, narrow streets, and quays along the water. Sarah thought it was perfect for a night out. Close to home for us, but David didn't need to know that.

I felt incredibly tense and out of my comfort zone. It had been years since I'd been with a guy and that was my only experience. Sarah tried to calm me down, and I tried to focus on the excitement and fun of the night ahead. I couldn't help but think of Marley and wondered what she'd do in my place. In my mind, I heard her say, "Just enjoy it."

David was a friendly, smooth guy with a strong Frisian accent. As the evening went on and the drinks kept coming, my own Gronings dialect started slipping out more and more. Sarah chimed in with her unmistakably flat Rotterdam accent. Honestly, half the time we couldn't really understand each other, but somehow, that made it even more fun.

At one point, David joked that he wasn't speaking a dialect at all, but a language, unlike me. "Frisian is officially recognized as a Dutch language," he said, "Gronings is just a dialect." I teased him right back, of course, but he wasn't wrong. So we had our own little running joke: David spoke a different language, I spoke a dialect, and Sarah? Sarah just had a loud accent.

Around midnight, we said goodbye to David with promises to stay in touch. Giggling and wobbling on our feet, we made our way home. I needed something from my room, so I headed upstairs, Sarah right behind me. She pushed me down onto my small bed. The alcohol and David's company had left her visibly turned on. She quickly stripped my clothes off, and then hers followed. She was wearing my purple set again, and it touched me.

"Come lie in my arms, Saar," I whispered in her ear. I was exhausted, and even though we were both aroused, tiredness took over.

We decided to call David and set a date for the next Saturday. He was into the idea but said he'd be heading to apartment in Drachten that weekend. Sarah didn't mind one bit, she said she wanted to check out the stubborn north part of the country herself. I gave her a pointed look. After all, I was from the north too. In thick Gronings, I tossed a curse her way and threw a pillow. She laughed, ducking just in time. "This weekend, we're going to Friesland, girl," Sarah said, buzzing with excitement. "Noted," I replied, trying to keep my cool.

The whole week, a nervous flutter settled deep in my belly. Sarah and I had agreed to save all our horniness for the weekend. It was tough, but I stuck to it. Didn't even finger myself once.

David's apartment in Drachten was small, mostly lived in by his younger sister, but she was away with her boyfriend in the Ardennes for the weekend.

I could tell David was a bit jittery, and honestly, I wasn't sure how to act either. Sarah was as cool as ever. She plopped down on the couch, lifted her ass just enough to pull a pair of panties from between the cushions, gave them a quick sniff, then tossed them into a corner.

David scooted close to Sarah. I sank back into the chair opposite them.

It was Sarah's fantasy, so I figured she should lead. Her hand slid slowly over David's thigh. Through her tight shirt, I saw her nipples harden. David's bulge grew. Little sparks tingled down my neck as I watched them play.

She straddled his lap, her pussy grinding over his pants. Their lips crashed together, wild and hungry. David's hands slipped under her shirt, grabbing her breasts, making her ride him harder. I saw him thrust deep and fast, then freeze.

Sarah laughed, stood up, leaving David panting on the couch. "1-0," she said with a grin, climbing onto my lap.

I slid my fingers under her skirt and felt her panties soaked through. Without hesitation, I yanked off her shirt and my throat tightened again when I saw my purple bra underneath. Was this Sarah's way of showing our connection? Movement came from the couch too, David stripped off his clothes with a casual grace. Using his boxer, he wiped the cum off his stomach and cock. "Sarah's a real troublemaker," he laughed.

He dropped to his knees behind Sarah and unclasped her bra. Her beautiful breasts swayed teasingly, and I took her nipple into my mouth. "You're the only one still fully dressed," David said to me, "Let's fix that."

Sarah stood up from my lap and pulled me to my feet. Between Sarah and David, four hands slowly and sensually undressed me. I was wearing a lovely black and red lingerie set, and as I stepped out of my panties, Sarah couldn't resist taking a quick sniff.

Naked, I leaned back against Sarah's body, and David stood close to my belly. His pulsing manhood brushed softly along my stomach. Sarah licked my neck and ear while running her hands through my hair. David teased my nipples with his tongue, letting his hands wander over my body. Every nerve in me sparked alive, and my legs were slick with the wetness dripping from my pussy.

I turned to kiss Sarah, but David dropped to his knees and started gently nibbling on my pussy lips. My legs nearly gave out, and I slowly sank down to the floor. Sarah knelt above my head, offering me her dripping wet pussy. I licked her slowly, savoring every inch, teasing her clit with quick flicks of my tongue before pulling her lips into my mouth.

Meanwhile, David was busy between my legs, his fingers and tongue working magic. I felt an orgasm building. Sarah's pussy clenched around my mouth, and she came hard. She slid off me, and I sat up straight. David gave me a mischievous look, and I leaned in close to give him a deep, intense kiss. Tasting my own wetness on someone else's tongue was absolutely delicious.

Like a true gentleman, David led us to the bedroom. The big, inviting bed looked downright tempting, and Sarah spread her legs wide. With a teasing flick of her finger, she beckoned David, who crawled over the bed like a desperate tiger. Just as he was about to mount her, she pushed him back onto his spine and slid down between his legs.

His thick cock had a slight curve, and I watched, fascinated, from the edge of the bed. Sarah playfully nibbled at his tip, taking the curved shaft a little deeper with every move. She clearly loved giving head to a man, and honestly, I was relieved she took care of that part with David. I much preferred licking a juicy pussy.

When David tried to place his hands on her head, Sarah made it clear she wasn't having any of it and pulled his cock out of her mouth. He let out a low protest, but I crawled up to the headboard, took his hands, and held them gently on his stomach. His head rested on my lap, and together we enjoyed watching Sarah's oral performance.

David warned he couldn't last much longer, but Sarah kept licking. Only when he was near climax did she stop, leaning in to give him a deep, lingering kiss. Then she turned to me, sharing a long, wet tongue kiss. "I want that delicious cock inside my pussy," she whispered, dripping with desire, "where are the condoms?"

David blinked, dazed at first, then panicked. He'd forgotten to grab condoms, and as soon as he realized, the hardness in his cock faded fast. Sarah jumped off the bed and went to her bag in the hallway. She returned laughing brightly with a pack of Durex. "Well, if the gentleman can't do it..."

Quickly she pulled David's cock back to full size and rolled the condom down. Straddling him, she guided his curved shaft into her dripping pussy. She fumbled for the perfect rhythm for a moment but soon rode the Friese stallion like an experienced amazon.

I still had David's head resting on my lap, mesmerized by the view before me. Watching Sarah's face tighten in ecstasy was intoxicating, and she rode herself up to a fierce climax with a rapid rhythm. David couldn't hold out much longer either and blasted the condom full with thick spurts. Exhausted, she collapsed on top of him, and I let my fingers drift through her hair.

Together, we sprawled out across the bed, slowly drifting toward sleep. I jolted awake when two sets of hands began stroking me. Eyes closed, it felt like hands were everywhere, a delicious sensation. Sarah slid a pillow under my hips and crawled in behind me. She gently cradled my head in her lap, just like I'd done with David earlier.

"I want to enjoy it just like you did," she whispered. Her finger softly brushed the hair away from my eyes.

David was playing with my clit, his cock tip tracing circles over it. I was so turned on I lifted my hips up, pressing into him. Teasing, he slid his shaft between my lips, and I couldn't hold back a loud moan. From the nightstand, he grabbed a fresh condom and rolled it down his cock. Carefully, he pushed himself inside me. What a delicious feeling it was, his crooked rod sliding into my tight pussy. We searched for the perfect position, me twisting a little so the curve hit my cervix just right. Soft and slow, he slipped in and out, making me wetter by the second.

"Faster," I gasped, and David picked up the pace. The pent-up heat inside me started to surge, the steady thrusts pushing me closer and closer to an explosive release.

David had already come once and could last longer now. Grabbing my hips, he pulled me up onto my knees. Without missing a beat, he plunged back in, and after a few fierce strokes, I came again.

Sarah was fingering herself, eyes full of lust as I kissed her deeply while David kept pounding into my dripping wet pussy. Just after my third orgasm hit, I felt David's cock thicken and the condom fill. Satisfied, I collapsed onto the bed, and Sarah didn't miss her chance, pressing my head firmly against her slick pussy.

I wrapped my arms around her hips and licked her juicy pussy until she came hard too. Kissing my way up her belly and breasts, my lips finally found hers, and we tangled in a soft, tender kiss.

"Thank you, dear Anne, for making my fantasy come true," she whispered in my ear.

I nestled between her legs, my back against her breasts, hands gliding over her thighs. Sarah's arms wrapped around me, her hands resting gently on my belly. David settled beside us on the bed, asking if we wanted anything.

"Coffee," Sarah and I said in unison. "And then I want a nice, long shower," I added.

Cleaned up and with a vague promise to call David soon, we got back in the car. We'd already decided long before that we weren't going to stay the night at his place. It was Sarah's fantasy, not mine, and I needed the freedom to leave whenever I wanted, no expectations, no strings. So we'd called around earlier that week and booked a small hotel nearby. Two and a half hours back home after a night like this just didn't seem smart, and this way, we had our own place to retreat to if things didn't click. Or even if they did.

It turned out to be a perfect call. Quietly, almost without talking, we drove the short distance to the hotel and checked in. One room, one bed, and just the two of us again.

Sarah and I kept seeing each other regularly. Our experience with David was a nice memory, but for me, it was a one-time thing. Honestly, I could tell David was pretty into me and that made me uneasy. I wasn't comfortable with that at all.

The sex had been really good, no denying it. But it was what it was, and I did it for Sarah. That felt right. It was enough. What Sarah and I had was something special, something way beyond any one night with David.

David and Sarah kept seeing each other now and then, usually at his apartment in Rotterdam, sometimes at Sarahs 'place. Still, David kept dropping hints about wanting a threesome. But once it became very clear that a threesome with me was never happening again, their contact slowly faded.

Meanwhile, I noticed something changing in Sarah.

Sarah told me the happy news in our own playful way. On my door handle hung the familiar little plastic bag, this time holding a tiny baby onesie. Attached with a safety pin was a note that read:

"More laundry coming soon."

I raced down the stairs and burst into Sarah's living room. "We're going to be moms!" I shouted, pulling her into a tight hug. She laughed, pushed me away gently, and kissed my cheek. "You goof," she said, looking at me with love in her eyes.

We cuddled up close on the couch, my hand resting on her belly. I'd never really thought about what it would be like to have a child. I'd never even wanted one before. But now, sitting there with Sarah, feeling that little life growing inside her, a warm, unfamiliar happiness washed over me.

"Do you know who the father is?" I asked, remembering how careful Sarah had always been.

Her smile faltered and she looked sad. She told me it had to be David. They'd slept together a few more times after our threesome, and once they'd forgotten to use a condom. Before I could say anything, she added quietly, "And I wasn't so careful with the pill."

I kissed her gently. No matter how it happened, there was a little person growing inside Sarah. That was all that mattered. "I called David," she said, "but he wants nothing to do with it." I understood that it probably wasn't part of his plans, but I still thought it was weak.

I knew this baby was Sarah's. Still, I felt deeply connected to this tiny life growing inside her and asked if I could be part of it. She looked at me, beaming, and no words were needed. I would be the sweetest godmother this little one could wish for.

I didn't know if Sarah planned to talk to David about financial support, or if he'd even wanted her to get rid of it. But one thing was crystal clear: Sarah wanted to keep this baby. And honestly, so did I. I told her, "We'll figure this out together. There are plenty of people out there raising kids without tons of money. We'll manage." And I meant it. We weren't rich and I was still an apprentice, but this child was already loved, and that had to count for something.

Life was taking a different turn than I'd planned, but I felt free and happy. I worked hard on my studies and was pregnant together with Sarah in a way. I kept living in my own room, and neither of us wanted to put a label on what we had. But I helped pick out baby things and did most of the work setting up the nursery.

Sarah's belly grew rounder by the day. When I stayed over, I loved massaging that soft, warm bump. Her whole belly seemed like an erogenous zone, every touch making her wildly turned on. Sex with Sarah became even more electric. Her body was hypersensitive, and the desire practically radiated off her.

Deep down, I was glad David wasn't stepping up. If he had, I never would have had this experience. Sure, Sarah dealt with all the usual pregnancy annoyances, but the joy far outweighed any discomfort.

Even though we did a lot together, we both treasured our freedom. Most days I still headed back to my own room to work on assignments or study for tests.

The little plastic bag was our private joke, our way of sending messages. Whenever I saw it hanging on my door handle, a delicious thrill ran through me.

So when I climbed the stairs and saw it there, I barely made it up the last steps fast enough. Christy came out of her room, bursting out laughing. "I don't know what it is with that bag, but you two act like teenagers." I laughed back, "Yeah, we basically are."

I didn't think it wise to share the secrets behind our bag. But Christy wasn't born yesterday. She knew all about our relationship.

I quickly grabbed the little bag, but inside I only found some kind of remote control. The note said to stand halfway down the stairs and press button 1. I peeked around the doorframe, not wanting Christy wandering the hallway. When coast was clear, I headed down and pressed a button.

A loud scream echoed through the house, and I rushed straight to Sarah's room. "TURN IT OFF" she shouted. I quickly hit the off switch on the device in my hand. "Are you okay? Did you fall? Is the baby alright?" I asked, a little panicked. Sarah just laughed, staggering over to me. "No, you idiot, I bought a new toy."

I looked at her confused until she pointed at the remote. "You were supposed to press 1, not 4," she grinned. Suddenly I got it, the scream was because I'd hit the wrong button. Relieved, I pressed 1 this time.

"Hmmmmm," Sarah moaned contentedly. "Want to see?" She quickly opened her robe and revealed a lacy little strap-on thing with a tiny rubber gadget attached. She dropped back on the couch, legs spread wide, and I saw a little butterfly-shaped vibrator nestled just right against her clit, with a small tail slipping gently inside.

She'd been startled when it suddenly went to max power, that explained the scream. Curious, I sat down in front of her, and she draped her legs over my shoulders. The intoxicating scent of her arousal filled the air as I let my fingers glide over the toy's contours. The buzzing felt amazing, and I pressed it a little closer.

Holding the remote gave me a bit of power over Sarah, so I switched it up to level two. "Oooohhhh," she groaned, her breathing getting uneven and a flush blooming across her neck. I moistened my finger with some spit and gently pressed it against her asshole. We'd never really paid much attention to each other's backdoors before, but I knew Sarah had been curious, and now with the pregnancy, everything felt even more sensitive.

I wanted her to decide what she was comfortable with, but soon she pressed her ass a little harder onto my finger. Her wetness dripped down her thighs and the little vibrator gleamed with moisture. Her full breasts were tight with tension, and I wanted to take them in my mouth, but the awkward position made it impossible.

I stood up and pulled Sarah off the couch, supporting her as we moved to the bedroom. The buzzing toy between her legs made walking a bit tricky.

Once there, she slipped her robe off her shoulders, and in the soft light, I admired my pregnant girlfriend's body. Playfully, she twirled around, the light catching the shimmer between her legs. I carefully laid her down on the bed and lifted her feet up to rest alongside her.

I wanted nothing more than to crawl between her legs, my pussy pressed to hers with the buzzing butterfly still nestled in place, but her belly made that tricky. She didn't like lying on her back for long either, so I gently rolled her onto her side and curled up behind her. The little vibrator was still buzzing against her clit and pussy, and her juices had made her whole asshole wet.

Sarah moaned, rocking back and forth on the bed, her hips grinding against me, driving me wild with desire. I slid my finger back to her ass and gently pushed the tip of my index finger inside. It was tricky to get past her tight ring muscle at first, but once she relaxed a little, it got easier. I moved my finger slowly in and out, and with her wild movements, it slipped deeper each time. "Want me to add another?" I whispered in her ear. A simple nod was all the confirmation I needed. Carefully, I pulled my finger out and slid in two at once. Sarah squeezed her cheeks tight for a moment, then relaxed her muscle, letting my fingers glide smoothly inside. I fingered her at a delicious pace, and she couldn't hold back a few loud moans.

I switched off her little vibrator and took it away, then Sarah sat up against the headboard, legs spread wide. I wanted to savor her creamy wetness, so I ran my tongue along her dripping slit. Her clit was still too sensitive to touch directly, so I avoided it. I enjoyed the generous flow pouring from her pussy as Sarah tenderly stroked my hair. When I slipped two fingers inside her again, I noticed her excitement building once more. I fingered her slowly, loving the chance to spoil her, not caring that my own pleasure took a backseat. Seeing Sarah edge closer to another orgasm was enough. It wasn't as intense as before, but she melted back into the pillows with total relaxation.

I kissed her belly and breasts softly, then lifted my head to press a long, gentle kiss on her lips. "Honey, I'm exhausted," Sarah said. Pregnancy was draining her energy, and after a long session of sex, she was spent. That didn't bother me one bit. I went to the bathroom to grab a basin of warm water and a washcloth. When I returned, Sarah had already fallen asleep. Quietly, so as not to wake her, I washed her. I glided the cloth from her breasts down to her belly, then cleaned between her legs and her ass. I dried her gently with a soft towel and tucked her in.

I hesitated about whether to go back to my own room or stay on the couch with her. I wanted to be close, so I stayed.

Near midnight, Sarah got up to pee. The show I'd been watching was almost over, and she asked if I'd come lie down next to her. She was already deep asleep when I climbed into bed beside her. With my belly pressed to her ass and my hand on her bump, I fell asleep.

I woke to a tickling feeling on my belly. When I opened my eyes slowly, I saw Sarah had turned around and was stroking my belly and pussy with her fingers. I pretended to be asleep, but I couldn't hide my reaction. She increased the pressure and worked my clit just right. She knew how much I loved this and how quickly it made me wet. I spread my legs wider and closed my eyes, savoring every touch. She alternated between gentle strokes on my clit and deeper finger thrusts inside me. Soon, I felt my orgasm wash over me. My pussy clenched around her fingers, and my juices spilled out. She scooped them up with two fingers and popped them into her mouth. "That was amazing, love," I murmured, and we both drifted off to sleep, tangled together.

Months passed, and Sarah's belly grew rounder and rounder. She was almost ready for maternity leave, and she was more than ready for the baby to arrive. She called herself an ugly walrus, eager to be done with the pregnancy. It was leaving its marks on her body, but I thought she should be proud. No matter how many times I told her she was beautiful and how sweetly I treated her, she got more stubborn about it. The baby kicked hard and often, and her body ached. My gentle belly massages and sexual attention still helped. When she relaxed, so did the baby.

I was also looking forward to holding our little one. In the last weeks of her pregnancy, I barely made it back to my own room. I studied at her kitchen table and slept beside her every night. Concentrating on lessons was tough, but I didn't want to miss a moment of the pregnancy.

When she woke me in the middle of the night with her water broken, I stayed calm and focused, making sure everything was ready. I carefully drove us to the hospital. The labor took a while, but once she had enough dilation, everything progressed quickly. I struggled with the amount of blood and felt helpless, like a father watching the birth of his child, our child. And then she was here: Amy Charlaine Louise. Finally, I held her tiny body in my arms.

Life changed dramatically. Studying became harder with this little miracle around, and I found myself spending more time in my own room. The days were full of visitors coming and going.

The maternity nurse, who wasn't really fond of modern parenting and found our situation unusual, had a hard time involving me. She basically saw Sarah as a single mom and didn't hide that. I told my mom about all this, and after the nurse left, she decided to stay with us for a few days to help out. Both Sarah and I still felt a bit overwhelmed by everything new, caring for the baby and all the uncertainties that come with being new parents. Meanwhile, Sarah's parents, living in France, also came to meet their granddaughter. I also felt my bond with my mom grow stronger because, finally, she felt like her daughter had found her place, that this girl, this new life, had finally given me a direction in life.

I was glad summer break arrived because I often got up at night to help place Amy at Sarah's breast and make sure Sarah could get a good night's sleep. We were happy, but Sarah and I weren't in love, nor officially a couple. I was indeed the sweetest godmother Amy could wish for, but Sarah was missing a life partner.

It was hard for me that Sarah kept in contact with David, Amy's father, but I understood she wanted him involved in their daughter's life. Amy looked exactly like him, and when he came to visit after six months, he instantly fell in love with his daughter.

He visited more often, and the bond between Sarah and David, built around Amy, grew stronger. Sarah never denied me anything, and we still had sex now and then, but I noticed she wanted a different path. David kept hoping for a threesome, so I decided my role was to be the best godmother to my little girl and a loving friend to Sarah. I slept in my own bed every night, and sometimes Marley stopped by, always ending in a passionate night.

Sarah and David married a year after Amy was born. I was Sarah's witness, and signing the marriage certificate wasn't easy. I didn't want to stand in her way; she could never have had this with me.

My studies went smoothly, and all my free time went to Amy. She was an incredibly calm baby, only really fussy when her dad got a bit too involved. Whenever she heard my voice, she'd settle down instantly. David didn't always love that, but Sarah was firm, it was just how things were. My place in Amy's life was right there beside her, just like David's was, and well, he managed to live with that. Amy was simply a sweet baby and a wonderful child. Honestly, I couldn't have wished for more.

Sarah made it clear to David that some decisions had to be made by the three of us together. I kept a bit of distance from that because I didn't want to get in his way. But honestly, I got the feeling David mostly wanted to be part of the fun moments with his daughter. The tough calls? He left those to Sarah and me without much hesitation. My heart was really invested in all of them. That was the dynamic as it was, and we just had to work with it.

At my graduation, I proudly stood for photos with almost two-year-old Amy by my side. At 30, I had finally become officially certified as a Graphic Engineer and Multimedia Media Management.

After graduating, I started looking for a new job because the company where I did my training was really focused on apprentice-level positions. Over time, it became clear that my skills on the work floor were excellent, but they really came into their own at a management level. Unfortunately, there was no room for an account manager position there. I wasn't immediately let go, though. They gave me some time to find something new, but I knew there was a sort of expiration date on my time there. The company wanted to make space for a new apprentice, someone like I once was, who deserved a chance. So, while I wasn't unemployed right away, it was clear I needed to move on.

Originally, I was supposed to look for my own place, but Sarah had a different idea. Christy had also finished her studies and was searching for a flat, and I had the chance to rent the entire floor. After talking it over with my mom and dad and aunt Helena, I decided it was a fantastic plan.

By then, I had also started exploring the lesbian scene a bit, having occasional one-night stands. That felt like all I had room for, because my focus was on building a career and being there for my daughter. There was simply no space in my life for anyone else but my sweet little Amy.