The Favor My Flatmates Asked Me For

It was the end of August in Valencia, that sticky heat that forces you to sleep with the windows open and little more than your underwear on. I, Dani, an architecture student with two subjects hanging over me for September, had found a flat in Ruzafa for a more than reasonable price.

I shared it with two other university girls. Nora, an athletic blonde journalism student who always wore sports shorts, and Sara, a brunette with piercings and an artist vibe who studied fine arts. From the start everything was very cordial: cleaning shifts, improvised dinners, laughs about exams we’d already written off as lost. But that summer heat pressed down savagely, and I, single and surrounded by those two beauties, was horny all day long.

One Tuesday afternoon I found myself alone. Nora had gone out for a run and Sara was at the library. I flopped onto the sofa, channel surfing with the remote in one hand and a beer in the other. Bored, I left the TV on some ridiculous show: a bodybuilding contest, oiled-up guys posing with muscles gleaming under the spotlights. I don’t know why I didn’t change the channel; maybe the heat had me half-stupid.

Thinking about anything and nothing, I let my hand drift down to my pants. I closed my eyes, imagining the usual thing, and didn’t hear the door. Sara came in silently, headphones on, and froze in the doorway to the living room. I, oblivious to everything, kept going to the end. Only when I opened my eyes did I see her silhouette and I ran to my room, red as a tomato.

***

The next day, breakfast was weird. Nora and Sara were whispering between sips of coffee, shooting me quick looks and little giggles that cut off the second I raised my head. I tried to act normal, spreading butter on my toast like nothing had happened, but the atmosphere was charged with something I couldn’t quite make out.

“Hey, Dani,” Nora said suddenly, with that wicked smile she wore when she was plotting something, “it’s no big deal about yesterday, okay? We’re open-minded, you know that.”

I nodded, still red inside, mumbling a “thanks” while avoiding looking straight at them. Sara stretched in her chair, yawning theatrically.

“Fuck, it’s already so hot in the morning. Don’t you think it’s unbearable?”

Without waiting for an answer, she pulled her tank top over her head in one fluid motion and stayed topless, her firm breasts bare, her nipples already hard from the fabric rubbing them. Nora copied her a second later, letting her shirt fall over the back of the chair, and stayed in a white see-through bra that barely covered anything.

“Much better,” Nora sighed, fanning herself with her hand over her cleavage. “Anyway, we’re all comfortable here, right?”

I froze with my toast halfway to my mouth. I didn’t know what to say. Was it because of the heat or because of yesterday? I didn’t dare ask. I just swallowed, nodded like an idiot, and kept eating, trying not to look too much. But it was impossible: Sara’s breasts bouncing with every laugh, the sweat-sheened skin in Nora’s cleavage, the smell of shower gel mixed with coffee.

Breakfast felt eternal and too short at the same time. They chatted about classes and exams as if nothing were happening, but every time they moved their bodies brushed the table or brushed against each other, and I felt the air grow thick, charged with a tension that had me hard under the table.

***

From then on, things changed without anyone saying so out loud. They started leaving the bathroom door ajar when they showered — “it’s just that the steam builds up too much if I close it all the way” — and when I passed through the hallway, I caught glimpses: water sliding down their backs, the fogged-up mirror, a soft moan that could have been from the hot water or from something else. I never went in, of course, but the sound stuck in my head and my cock reacted instantly.

One afternoon Nora came out of the shower completely naked, with only a towel wrapped around her head like a turban. Water dripped all over the hallway, her tits swinging freely, her shaved cunt on display with no shame whatsoever. She flopped down on the living room sofa, where Sara and I were watching a series, and grabbed the remote like it was nothing.

“Fuck, that feels so refreshing,” she said, crossing her legs but not covering herself. “Put on whatever you want, I’ll dry off here.”

We just stared at her, me trying to hide the erection growing in my pants, Sara laughing under her breath. We watched the whole episode like that: her naked, water evaporating off her skin, and nobody said a word about it. Just normal conversation, laughter, but with that constant electricity.

In the afternoons, when the heat became unbearable and the flat felt like an oven, the routine slowly turned into something more natural, more naked. We started showering one after another, almost in turns, to wash off the day’s sweat. Nobody closed the door all the way, and when one of us came out, the next went in without waiting.

I was often the first one out. I dried off quickly, but instead of getting dressed I went straight to the living room just like that, naked, my hair still dripping. I threw myself down in the middle of the sofa and turned on the TV. A few minutes later Nora or Sara would arrive, also fresh out of the shower, with no towel or anything to cover them. They’d collapse beside me, their bodies still wet, droplets running down their tits, over their stomachs, over their thighs.

The three of us would stay packed together on the sofa, legs intertwined without shame, arms brushing, a breast pressing against my side whenever one of them leaned over to grab the remote. And if at any point I got hard — and I can assure you it happened often — they said absolutely nothing. Not a look of surprise, not a comment, not a sign of discomfort.

They kept watching the series as if nothing, commenting on the plot, laughing at the stupid jokes. My erection pulsing against the thigh of whoever was closest was simply part of the scenery, ignored with an almost studied indifference, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for us to be there naked and turned on. It was a delicious torture, a tension building up without exploding yet.

***

One night I came back late from the library. The flat was dark except for the bluish light from the TV in the living room. I thought they were asleep. I crept over to get some water and there was Sara, alone on the sofa, topless and in a transparent thong that showed everything. Her hand was tucked under the thin fabric, her finger sliding in and out with a steady rhythm.

She was moaning softly, eyes closed, her breasts rising and falling with every quick breath. I froze in the doorway.

“Sorry…” I whispered, taking a step back.

She opened her eyes slowly, without stopping.

“It’s fine, Dani, if you were going for water, go ahead. Don’t worry. Anyway, Nora caught you the other day too, same as me. We’re flatmates, this is normal.”

She kept going, moving her finger now in circles over her clit, speeding up, her moans getting louder until she arched her back and came with a muffled cry. Her body trembled. She looked at me, panting, licking her lips.

“Go get your water… and good night.”

I went to the kitchen shaking, but I couldn’t help glancing back for a second. She had yanked the thong off and was still touching herself softly, her body still lit up. When I came back with the glass, she’d already come again, and she winked at me before stretching out like a cat.

From that night on, it became routine. Each time we hid less when we masturbated in the living room. It was as if the barriers had dissolved in the summer heat.

***

One random afternoon, Nora and I were in the kitchen making sandwiches, chatting about nonsense. She was in shorts and no top, I was in bermuda shorts. When we went into the living room with the plates, we found Sara stretched out on the sofa with her legs spread wide and a suction toy buzzing against her exposed pussy. The toy droned loudly while she moaned, lost in pleasure.

Nora didn’t even blink. She kept talking to me about the series, handing me the mustard as if we were alone.

“Come on, Dani, sit down,” she said casually.

Sara sped up, the toy sinking deeper, and came with a long, guttural moan, her body convulsing. Nora and I watched her with broad smiles, a mix of complicity and shared joy, like we’d just won a match together.

“Good girl,” Nora said, laughing, and I nodded, aroused to the limit.

Then, without a word, Nora picked up the still-wet suction toy, pulled down her shorts and thong in one yank, and sat down beside Sara, bringing the toy to her clit little by little.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” she gasped, switching on the vibration.

I couldn’t resist. I sat on Sara’s other side, pulled my already hard cock out of my pants, and started jerking off slowly, watching their bodies. Sara, as if it were nothing, stayed with her legs open, grabbed her phone, and started looking at Instagram while we touched ourselves. Her tits bounced with every laugh at a meme, and every so often she shot us a teasing look.

“You two are having a great time,” she commented without moving.

First Nora exploded, then I did, in a massive orgasm that left my chest splattered. A few more weeks passed in that new normal: shared masturbation in the living room, toys buzzing while we chatted about anything, everything out in the open without anyone batting an eye. The summer heat didn’t let up, and neither did we.

***

But one Friday afternoon, everything changed all at once. Nora caught me in the kitchen while I was making coffee. She came up behind me, wearing only a long T-shirt that barely covered her ass, and whispered in my ear:

“Hey, Dani… I need to ask you a favor. A big one.”

I looked at her, curious. She bit her lip, a little nervous for the first time in weeks.

“It’s just that my boyfriend has been pushing me about anal for a while. He says he loves it, but it scares me a bit. I’ve never done it and I don’t want the first time to be a disaster.”

She paused, staring right at me.

“I thought… what if we practice with you? You’re trustworthy, you’re not going to judge me, and well, we’ve already seen everything anyway. What do you say?”

I was left speechless. My cock got hard instantly just imagining it.

“Sure… if you want,” I stammered, trying to sound calm. “Whenever you like.”

She smiled, relieved, almost triumphant.

“Tonight. Sara’s coming too, if you don’t mind. She wants to be there in case I back out or, I don’t know, to cheer me on.”

***

I nodded like a dummy. I couldn’t believe it. At eleven at night, the living room was lit only by a dim lamp and the silent TV. The two of them came in in underwear: Nora in black panties and a top she took off as soon as she sat down, staying topless; Sara in a transparent red set that left nothing to the imagination. I was already in boxers, my erection standing out plainly.

Nora lay face down on the sofa, ass in the air, and looked back with a mix of nerves and excitement.

“Come on, slow at first, okay?”

Sara sat beside her, stroking her back.

“Relax, babe. Dani knows what he’s doing.”

I came over with the lube in my hand, which they had left ready on the little table. I lowered her thong slowly, exposing her ass, the tight pink hole. I started by massaging with my fingers, one first, then two, opening her up little by little while she moaned softly and pushed back. Sara kissed her on the mouth, pinched her nipples, encouraged her with whispers.

When she was ready, I put on the condom and placed the tip against her entrance.

“Take a deep breath…” I said, and pushed in slowly.

She let out a long moan when the head went in. I stopped, letting her get used to it.

“Fuck… it hurts a little, but… keep going,” she panted.

I pushed farther, centimeter by centimeter, until I was all the way in. Her ass clenched around me like a hot fist. I started moving gently, in and out, deeper each time. Nora moaned louder as the pain turned into pleasure.

“Yes… like that… harder…”

Sara was touching herself while she watched, her eyes bright.

“I told you,” Nora gasped at her. “There’s nothing like an expert to get you started.”

I stopped dead, with my cock still buried to the hilt.

“Expert? Why do you think I’m an expert?”

The two of them looked at each other, confused. Nora, with her face red and her ass impaled on my cock, said:

“Aren’t you… gay?”

Silence. Then I started laughing, a nervous laugh that turned into a guffaw.

“No, fuck. I’m not gay. Where did you get that ridiculous idea?”

Sara’s eyes went wide.

“Seriously? So all this time…? And that first handjob we caught you doing, watching ripped guys in thongs?”

Nora twisted a little, without taking me out, and looked at me with a mischievous smile that kept growing.

“Fuck… then… could you really fuck us both? Properly?”

***

No further explanation was needed. I pulled my cock out slowly, Nora turned around and knelt on the sofa. She sucked me off eagerly, tasting herself, while Sara took everything off and came up beside me. The two of them took turns sucking me: one on the tip, the other on my balls, their tongues crossing, saliva dripping. I grabbed their hair, guiding them, moaning like crazy.

Then I put them side by side, on all fours. First Nora, pounding into her hard while she screamed with pleasure. I switched to Sara, who was wetter than ever, and fucked her while Nora touched herself and licked my balls from underneath. I went back to Nora, now more open and eager, driving into her to the hilt while Sara sat on her face, letting herself be eaten out.

The threesome lasted for hours. I fucked both of them anally — Sara wanted to try too, bolder after seeing Nora — endless oral, and much more. We came over and over again. In the end, exhausted, we collapsed on the floor, sweaty, laughing between gasps.

Nora, with a hoarse voice, said:

“Fuck… if I’d known you weren’t gay, I would’ve fucked you from day one.”

Sara added, licking her lips:

“Well now there are no excuses. This is going to be the longest, hottest summer of our lives.”

And it was. The misunderstanding had been cleared up, but what came after was even better.