The Sofa Ch. 03

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Author’s note: This is Chapter 3 of a multi-part story. It won’t make complete sense without reading Chapters 1 and 2 first.

All good things must to come to an end, as they say. With no advance warning, at least that I ever heard, Wendy moved out.

: : : Single girl

: : :

The apartment was only vacant for a couple of days. The next renter, Angie, was bright and witty. On the rare occasions she had people around, she had an easy, friendly way of engaging them and making them feel interesting. Unfortunately, she was a loner. Her great personality was negated by body shame: she considered herself overweight. I thought she was very pretty, just in a curvy, ‘plus’ way rather than model-thin. She spent a lot of time in the apartment naked, watching TV, vacuuming, doing the dishes, sorting laundry, but only when nobody else was around.

Interestingly, she wore very sexy bras and panties, extroverted pink, gold, and purple hues, lacy and revealing. She covered those up, though, with very plain, baggy, dark clothing, as if she was trying to be invisible. She would sit naked on me and rub herself to orgasm, or use a toy, mumbling to herself, “Here you are again, girl, all by yourself, pretending to be pretty.” My heart broke for her. I considered her a swan, disguising herself as a plain (but not ugly) duckling.

It was a sad time for me. She went through three boyfriends in the time she lived in my apartment, but she was too ashamed of herself to be sexually active with any of them. I was used to people openly enjoying their sexuality, so I was disappointed at the lack of action. But I was also sad for her. She had an innate beauty, inner and outer, and she clearly had strong sensual feelings, but her negative self-image kept her from sharing any of it with another person.

She moved away after what was for me a very long year. I hope she learned to accept herself the way she was, she had so much potential.

: : : The lead singer : : :

This time the apartment was empty for six weeks. That’s a long time with no activity of any sort. The maintenance man did a bit of work, touching up the paint, fixing a dripping faucet, and replacing the toilet, but that was all. No wild blonde and her many friends, no babysitter and her eager boyfriend, no unhappy lady with self-esteem issues, not even a sexually repressed married couple. I missed them all. Time goes really,

r e a l l y

s l o w l y

b y

y o u r s e l f

i – n

a – n

e – m – p – t – y

a – p – a – r – t – m – e – n – t.

Finally someone moved in. He was a rock star, in his own mind anyway. His name was Edwin, and he was, in fact, the lead singer of a local band. They had some regular gigs, but not every weekend, and never Friday and Saturday of the same week. They had some fans, and had self-released a couple of CDs, but nobody was getting rich by any measure.

Until then, I had only ever experienced two kinds of people: those I like, and those I like a lot. Edwin was neither. I disliked him from the first hour of that first day. He was self-absorbed and lazy, but always acted superior to everyone around him. He ruled his tiny domain with an iron fist, bossing everyone around for his pleasure, banishing anyone who didn’t actively please him. Everyone within his realm was required to stay completely at his beck and call at all times. Sure, he deigned to grant other people some enjoyment, sometimes lots of it, but it was always his idea and on his terms. Frankly, I thought the ones he kicked out were the lucky ones.

He must have had some sort of charisma that I never saw — he always had girls hanging around. That’s girls with an s, all of them heart-stoppingly lovely. I felt bad for them; it’s the only time in my entire being I wished I could actively do something. I would love to have been able to prank him in some way that would make him look like an idiot in front of his harem.

On the day he moved in, the apartment manager let him in, gave him the keys, and glanced around the room before he left the place to Edwin. When his eyes fell on me, he said, “Oh, I didn’t realize this unit hadn’t been completely upgraded. I’ll get the maintenance guy to replace this with a newer one.”

Four girls were in the process of carrying in boxes of Edwin’s stuff. One of them sat on me, snuggled her sweet butt into my cushions, and said, “No, don’t, leave it. I like it.”

“It’s no trouble, I’ll get it out of here.”

She said, “No, seriously, it’s nice. I like the color.”

“Are you sure? The newer ones are better.”

Another one sat on me. Her tiny short shorts rode way up the crack of her ass. I was so distracted I barely heard her respond, “No, I like this one. It goes with Edwin’s stuff.” She wiggled her butt deeper into my cushion. “It feels good.” I thought, ‘You do too, baby, you do too.’

When the girls were through lugging all of Edwin’s stuff in while he ‘supervised,’ one of the four had ulus escort to leave. She said she’d see him in a day or two. I can’t say if she was ever back or not, it quickly got to where so many girls were coming and going, and they were all so good-looking, I couldn’t tell them apart.

I don’t think I ever heard Edwin call any of these girls by name. Come to think of it, I can’t remember that he called any of the girls by their name, ever; maybe that would have shown them too much respect. One of these three looked like Natalie Portman, except bigger breasts. Since I don’t know what her real name was I’ll call her Natalie. The next one looked like Taylor Swift, I’ll call her Taylor. The other looked like Jennifer Anniston, she’ll be Jennifer.

In hindsight, that first night they didn’t do much. The girls lounged around topless in their panties, exhausted I guess. They certainly had the right to be worn out, they had spent the day carrying boxes, moving furniture, unpacking and arranging things. Edwin acted tired, too, although I couldn’t imagine why. Maybe barking orders without actually lifting or moving anything is more strenuous than it looks.

The first stirring the next morning was Natalie and Jennifer leaving the apartment. I was sad to see them go, they were gorgeous and I had hoped to see more of them. They were back in a little over an hour, though, with bags and bags of groceries. I assume they paid, I certainly didn’t see Edwin give them any money.

They put the food away and got busy making brunch: French toast, bacon, and some sliced fresh fruit. Edwin himself didn’t emerge from the bedroom until the food was ready, and this is when I got my first taste of what life in his world was going to be like. He and Taylor appeared, Edwin completely naked, Taylor only wearing a black lace thong. Edwin sat at the table and gestured at Taylor to stand in front of him, which she did without hesitating. He hooked his fingers in the sides of her thong and pulled it to the floor. He said to the other two, “Feel over-dressed at all?”

Neither one of them responded. He pointed at the floor between his feet, and barked, “Get over here!” Natalie dutifully stood where he had pointed, holding a plate of food. She casually ate while Edwin unbuttoned her shirt, unbuckled her belt, and unzipped her pants. He slid the pants down her legs, followed by her panties. He took her plate out of her hands and set it on the table, helping himself to some of her food. He spun her around and planted a wet kiss on one of the prettiest hineys I ever saw. She mumbled “Edwin, dammit!” around a mouthful of half-chewed food, picked up a napkin, and wiped away the mouth-shaped blob of maple syrup he left behind.

He pulled her shirt off her shoulders and went to work on her bra. It took him a moment to discover it was a front-clasp, but it soon joined her other clothes on the floor. He turned to Taylor and Jennifer, gestured at Jennifer’s clothes, and sneered, “What are you waiting for?” Taylor knelt at Jennifer’s feet and promptly undressed her. Edwin leered at Taylor’s naughty bits as she knelt, and Jennifer’s as they emerged from her clothes.

When they were nearly finished with their food, Edwin took the bottle of syrup and poured some over Natalie’s tits. “Hey,” Jennifer said, “that shit’s expensive.” He mumbled something I couldn’t understand because his mouth was busy licking the syrup off her.

He draped a towel across me, sat on it, drizzled syrup on his hard-on, and gestured at Jennifer to lick it off. He told Natalie to lie on the coffee table. She already had syrup residue on her tits; he poured more on her tummy and below. He motioned at Taylor to get busy licking it off.

“Edwin, you moron, I told you I don’t ‘do’ girls,” she said.

“You do now,” he replied, “unless you want to leave.” She glared at him a moment; he scowled back. She was the first to break eye contact. He grinned. She shrugged, knelt between Natalie’s knees, and started licking.

Jennifer was sucking Edwin seriously deep, but he pulled her up from his crotch, kissed her, and raised her even further to where her tits were even with his mouth. He went back and forth, sucking and licking one nipple then the other. His cock wiggled and squirmed in the open air for a moment, looking for a pussy or a mouth to disappear into. Taylor was immediately there with her mouth, leaving Natalie by herself.

Edwin spread his knees farther apart, pointed at the floor beside Taylor, and snapped his fingers. Natalie knelt where he pointed, shoulder-to-shoulder with Taylor. Edwin pulled his dick out of Taylor’s mouth and aimed it at Natalie, who took it in tonsil-deep. She sucked hard, based on how her cheeks collapsed. He let her go five or six strokes, then he pointed his finger at Taylor and snapped his fingers again. Natalie released his dick and Taylor took it in. They kept that pattern, five or six strokes in one yenimahalle escort mouth then trade, without him having to direct them any more. The only variation was occasionally one of them would go slower and deeper, only giving him two or three extra-intense strokes in her turn. He was gracious enough to allow that.

While the two of them attended to his dick, he kept busy on Jennifer’s tits. He cupped them in his hands, squeezing them from underneath. He went back and forth with his mouth, giving each nipple big, sloppy, wet open-mouth kisses, sometimes sucking, sometimes simply rubbing his lips from side to side. He massaged whichever boob he wasn’t sucking; Jennifer seemed to be enjoying herself.

He released his grip on one of her tits and buried a finger in her pussy. She came almost immediately, mashing her chest onto his face, pinching his finger with the contractions inside her channel. He pulled his dick out of Natalie’s mouth and began shooting his load onto her face, then swiveled over to squirt an equal amount onto Taylor. He directed Natalie and Jennifer to lick and slurp all the cum off of Taylor’s face. He had them show the gathered goo on their tongues, then swallow it. Then he had Taylor and Jennifer clean off Natalie’s face, also showing and swallowing.

He had Jennifer go down on Taylor. Taylor was so energized by everything that had already happened that she came almost instantly. She and Natalie collapsed on me, and Edwin disappeared into the bedroom, after ordering Jennifer into the kitchen to fix some drinks and snacks. Taylor and Natalie leaned back on my arms and curled their legs in front of them, intertwining them. Their asses were soft and luscious on my cushions, and the view of their spent pussies, as well as their tits and asses, was spectacular. Jennifer placed a plate and a couple of glasses on the coffee table on front of them, but they had already dozed off.

That evening, around nine, Edwin called a nearby Indian restaurant and ordered delivery. Forty-five minutes later the doorbell rang. He gestured at Taylor and Natalie to answer it. They scrambled for some clothes, but he barked at them to answer it now. “We’re naked!” they both said. He replied, “Then you won’t have to give him any cash for a tip.” They scowled, but did nothing until he barked, “Go on! Our food’s getting cold!”

The delivery guy’s eyes bugged out when he saw the girls; they squealed like teenagers but didn’t cover any part of themselves. When they realized that neither one had brought her purse, Edwin sent Jennifer, also naked, to pay. That deliver guy must have thought that seeing naked girls was a generous tip. Edwin frequently ordered food from that restaurant; that guy obviously carefully watched for Edwin’s address — he made the delivery every time.

That day turned out to be typical; decadence and debauchery were the rule going forward. There were never less than two girls at a time, usually three or four, sometimes as many as five or six. They all had swimsuit-model-caliber figures, some with bodacious ta-tas, some with smaller but lovely perkies.

He was quite a tyrant, but the ever-changing cast of girls never seemed to mind. He kept them naked most of the time, including answering the door for food delivery. He would direct girls to suck his cock, to lie on their back or bend over for him to fuck, and to climb on him to cowgirl him while he lay on his back. He directed girls to kiss each other, and to lick and suck each other’s tits and clits, whether they wanted to or not. He demanded — and to my amazement, received — instant and unquestioning compliance to his commands.

I had decided that he was nothing but a crude, arrogant bully and a self-indulgent asshole, but then he did something that I found surprisingly tender. I’m not saying it was saintly, or selfless; it was after all to help a girl overcome her inhibitions to become one of his ‘full-service’ groupies. But it did require some human empathy, which, honestly, I didn’t think he had.

It began with a new girl. She was visibly uncomfortable doing what the others were blasé about, starting with Edwin’s preferred state of dress, completely naked. Of course she stood out from the start, being the only one with any clothes on. When he reached over to start unbuttoning her shirt, she pulled back from him, wrapped her arms protectively around her chest, and whispered, “No, I don’t think so…”

He held out his hand to her, and she timidly took it. He led her to the coffee table and gestured upward. After a long moment’s hesitation, she stepped up onto it. I expected him to bully her into stripping, and by her defensive posture, she did too. She looked like she was one harsh word away from bolting out the door, and I hoped she would. Edwin clearly liked her, and I wanted him to feel supremely awful when she rejected him.

Instead, to my surprise, he was gentle. “Let’s start easy,” he cooed. “Take your shoes off.”

“No,” she whispered.

It amazed me that he didn’t explode in anger, but I guess even he realized that if he did, she would be gone. He paused a long moment and gestured at her feet.

She stood still for an uncomfortably long time, then she seemed to realize that her choices were to do what he said or leave. I couldn’t understand why she wanted to stay there, but she did, and she forced herself to comply. She lowered her eyes and slipped off her shoes.

“See?” he said, his voice a soothing, kind tone I had never heard him use before. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She shook her head. “Good job.”

He paused until she smiled. It was a little one, and it looked like she tried to hide it, but she couldn’t. “Are you wearing a bra?” She nodded. “Good. This next step should also be easy, then.” He paused until she raised her eyes to his face.

She mumbled, “What should be easy?”

He said, softly, gently, “Let’s get that shirt off you.”

It looked like she started to say, “No,” but he smiled at her and shifted his posture so his body language was soft and non-threatening. She lowered her eyes to the floor. He reached for the bottom button, but she held up her hand, the universal ‘Stop!’ gesture, and slowly started unbuttoning it herself. She hesitated multiple times, but never long enough to trigger Edwin intervening. She froze a long moment after the last button, but then continued, timidly shrugging the garment off her shoulders.

So far, he hadn’t done much more than guide her toward conforming with the in-house standard of displaying her naked body, which would be a giant step toward submitting to him sexually. Here is where he rose to the occasion and showed her kindness, a little anyway. He gripped her hips and squared her to where she faced him directly. She was looking straight down. He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up to where she made eye contact with him. He said, softly, “Look at you, you’re gorgeous, just gorgeous.”

She shook her head, mumbled, “No I’m not,” and her eyes dived to the floor again.

He lifted her face back up to his and said, “Yes you are. You’re beautiful.” He held eye contact with her, smiling gently, until she nodded.

“Unbuckle your belt,” he said, softly. After a long pause, she did.

He gently added, almost a whisper, “Zipper.” With another delay, although shorter, she unzipped. He only gestured at her pants. Visibly trembling, she lowered them to mid-thigh, then let the weight of her belt buckle pull them to her ankles. He helped her step out of them, and she kicked them to the floor with her shirt.

She clearly wanted to curl her arms protectively around her undies and hide them, but she forced herself to overcome that urge. He wrapped his arms around her waist in a gentle, kind hug, rested the side of his face against her chest, and whispered, “You’re amazing, you’re doing great.” He stepped back, kissed her tummy just above her navel, and stepped back further. He gazed at her body, slowly scanning it from her shoulders to her knees and back. He raised his eyes up to meet hers, gave her a tender smile, and nodded his approval. Her posture visibly straightened as she gained a grain of confidence.

He nodded at her bra, and she shook her head, but after a long moment, reached behind her back and unclipped it. She let it fall from her shoulders, and dropped it to the floor. She cupped her boobs with her hands, completely hiding them.

He pantomimed dropping his hands to his sides. She did nothing for a long moment. I think we all assumed she had reached her limit, and would be putting her clothes back on and leaving. To my amazement, though, after another long pause, she slowly lowered her hands. She seemed painfully aware that her boobs were far from the biggest in the room, but they also were not the smallest. She saw him admiring them, and heard him say, “Lovely.” The compliment didn’t keep her from looking terrified; she silently pled with him, with her eyes, not to make her go any further. He normally would have unceremoniously yanked her panties down and off, but he actually gave her a break, the only time I ever saw him treat anyone so tenderly.

He placed his hands together behind his back, and she copied him. He reached up and cupped her tits in his hands. She shut her eyes, I think expecting him to think they were ugly, but I also think there may have been a trace of pleasure in there as she couldn’t help noticing that he didn’t appear to be disgusted. He cupped them, wiggled them from side to side, massaged them, then released them and stepped back. He blatantly stared at them and said, softly and soothingly, “These are wonderful, absolutely wonderful. So full, so soft, so sweet. I love how they jiggle. They’re just perfect.” He kissed the nipples, barely grazing them with his lips. They hardened even more into impressive little bullets.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, her hands still clasped behind her back. She was obviously afraid of what was going to happen next, but maybe not as much as a minute ago. He stepped up to her and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties. She visibly flinched when she felt his touch.

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