*** Authors Note: Part 4 obviously picks up where Part 3 left off. While I make the suggestion to read from the beginning, a couple of refresher notes:

Characters previously introduced:

Phil – Main protagonist. Wealthy 40-something white male who reshaped his entire life following a workplace accident. Has had a lifelong tendency to act rather impulsively, sometimes with mixed results.

Stacy – Phil’s physical therapist and friend.

Karen – Stacy’s roommate.

Paul – Phil’s live-in personal assistant. A minor character at most.

Phil, Stacy and Karen just erased the boundaries of any sort of normal, platonic friendship.

———————-

I woke up in the middle of the night with a little bit of a chill. To my left and right I found that both Karen and Stacy had snuggled up under the blanket. It was a king size bed but, with 3 adults (and the one in the middle on top of the covers) I could see that each of the ladies was barely on the edge of the mattress; hardly comfortable. I inched my way off, careful not to disturb either of them, and made my way out into the main living area.

The microwave clock indicated that it was 4:47 in the morning. Though I have no idea what time it was that we finished our threesome and each collapsed into a deep slumber I know it wasn’t possible for me to have gotten more than 2-3 hours of sleep. Hardly the makings of a restful night. That said, I felt oddly refreshed. Cold… but refreshed.

I went out onto the back patio and, as quietly as possible, opened up the hot tub and slid into the water, instantly I was enveloped in a warm bath that relaxed me and took that shiver away. Thankfully we had turned down the thermostat when we were in earlier and the water was the absolute perfect temperature. In my previous life I had an outdoor spa and had semi-frequently enjoyed its soothing powers when I couldn’t sleep at night and, in my humble opinion, there was nothing better. Sure, there were some biologics making themselves known: a dog bark far in the distance, some bugs skittering along window screens; but otherwise it was deathly silent and peaceful. A perfect place to relax and think… or just relax without thinking.

Of course, my mind went almost immediately to activities of just a couple of hours past. I wanted to remember every single moment, every sensation, but I quickly got flustered with trying to juggle a barrage of imagery at the same time. It was too much to try and remember at once. I took a deep breath and allowed my mind to filter down to smaller specifics. The taste of Karen’s wetness… the folds of Stacy’s labia… the sensation of a warm mouth of my cock.

My mind drifted and my body continued to relax before I was surprised by the sound of a door slamming shut a couple of houses away. Looking into the distance the sky was starting to get brighter. Before I knew it, it would be morning.

I pondered what my next move should be. Go back to bed with both of them? Sleep on the couch? Make them breakfast? In the end I decided the best move was to “pull a Costanza” and leave on a high note. I retrieved and put my clothes back on, left a note on the kitchen counter and snuck out into the cool morning air.

Honestly, after warming up, the bike ride was just as enjoyable as the hot tub. There was very little traffic on the roads and it was smooth sailing all the way home.

… except when I got home it was not so smooth sailing after all.

To make a long story short, I had been robbed blind.

—————-

To this day I am almost positive that it was Paul. A couple of things led me to that conclusion. First, there was no sign of forced entry and I was pretty sure I locked the door the previous evening when I left. Second, it had to have been the neatest robbery I had ever imagined. It was more like it was being scrubbed for a new owner. Nothing was left in the apartment from what I could tell. Finally, the couple of most damning bits of evidence. Security in the video shows bits and pieces of someone who had the same basic shape and size of Paul directing a group of guys in loading the material onto a truck in the underground garage. My apartment has almost direct access to the freight elevator which made it extremely easy to utilize. Also, the only thing left in the apartment was the key to the car that I had “given” to Paul and it was sitting on the kitchen counter. Finally, and probably most important, I never saw or heard from Paul again. Totally in my life one day, totally out the next.

When I spoke to the police and they did their investigation they found tons of prints around the house. All of them were for either myself, Stacy or Paul, all of them were expected. It was amazing to me that someone could orchestrate the packaging and moving of literally “every” item in my apartment in such a short period of time, but here I was, witnessing that it had happened. Had I not known better, Ashton Kutcher would have popped out of the shadows and I would have been the star of the first non-celebrity episode of Punk’d. They had taken items that had absolutely escort kocaeli no easy “street” value at all, it made no sense really.

The police were up-front with me and told me that honestly, there was very little chance that I would get most, if anything, back. They were under-staffed and up to their teeth in violence, drugs or “revenue generating” activities (ie, traffic tickets) and had very little time or resources to spare for a case like mine, even with how all-encompassing and somewhat bizarre it was. Their experience had led them to believe that my belongings had most likely already been split into different carrier trucks and vans and were now headed for flea-markets, chop-shops and Craigslist/eBay listings all around the American southeast. Of course it was a pain, I had to immediately get on the phone and put all of my banks and credit cards on notice for additional activity. I was pretty careful with things like cyber-security but one never knew ways that information could be pulled. In the end though, after all the paperwork was completed, all the police work was done, all insurance money paid out, I just had to start over with new stuff. The biggest benefit of being wealthy is really not ever having to start completely over, there are plenty of safety nets for us.

As I had felt I was mostly settled into my new community and also wasn’t planning on having anyone living in my apartment, I went out and got what I considered to be the basic essentials: A bed, some clothes, a couch, a TV and a new massage table. I figured I could pick up other items as I needed them and was in no rush to “fill” the space. To be honest, there was somewhat of a liberating feel with the entire process. It was like I was starting over yet again, this time with a functioning body.

Stacy did not quite have the same “whatever” attitude that I did. She could not believe that I left an empty house as a reminder that I had been totally ripped off. She said that she would either move or have filled it as quickly as possible in an attempt to help herself forget. She found it weird that I really didn’t care.

In the few weeks after the robbery I found that I was spending less and less time in the apartment. First, I was riding my bike more than ever, enjoying the outdoors as much as possible. Second, I was spending more and more time with Stacy and Karen at their house. Unfortunately not in the same sexual way as we had that first night, but as friends, just generally hanging out. This is not to say that I had not had sex with either one of them. Stacy and I had enjoyed our status as “friends with benefits” on a few different occasions. It had all been pretty vanilla though each encounter had been as pleasurable as one could expect with a beautiful partner you have a physical and emotional connection to.

It was after one of these sessions that Stacy first made her proposal: she wanted both herself and Karen to move in with me.

For her it made perfect sense, her schedule was almost full with clients at the gym in the building. While she did worry that always being in the building would be a bit of a drag, she figured if she could save more time it would actually give her more opportunity to get out.

For Karen it was a little different as she owned the house they lived in. But, she hated it. She hated being tied to it. She wanted to have a bit more freedom with what she was going to be doing with her time and resources. While owning was a better investment long term, she figured she could invest the money she was putting into her house and come out on top anyhow.

This posed a bit of a dilemma for me. I had a decent sized 3-bedroom apartment, obviously enough room for all of us. However, only one was a master and the other two shared a bathroom. While I know the girls were currently doing that exact thing I didn’t know how they would react to my bathroom being so much larger than theirs. I also didn’t know if I wanted to give up my free space and my freedom.

IMPULSE: Though the concerns were bounding around in my head, I still answered “yes” immediately. The girls were my two best friends. I had a lonely apartment that I was rarely at and a way to fill it up with happiness. I certainly knew that there would be potential hurdles, more opportunity for arguments and conflict given more time together… but I was willing to take those risks and believe they thought it through as well.

RESULT: Based on the ultra-fast process of Florida real estate, Karen had the house sold and both of the girls had moved into the apartment pretty much exactly 6 weeks later. I went from a totally empty home to one that was bursting at the seams with belongings. But, honestly, it was nice. It was a pleasure to continue my fresh start with my new family. Plus, one of the things that we figured out how to bring along was the hot tub. With the large glass wall in my living room it offered the perfect opportunity to keep it as well as have it indoors. After consulting with the building engineer and getting approval, it got a place of honor right in the living area and I can tell you that I was very kocaeli anal yapan escort much looking forward to relaxing in it while taking advantage of my ocean view and the TV at the same time.

There were certain things to get used to when it came to no longer having a personal assistant and adding roommates. The biggest was that there was someone in the apartment, seemingly all the time. Before there was peace, there was quiet. It was often the case that that was no longer the truth. This is not to say that I didn’t enjoy having Stacy and Karen around, I did. Though, while I loved the energy and warmth their presence brought to an otherwise empty space, it was also nice to be alone sometimes.

There was also the food in the house. Previously, I didn’t need to worry about it. Paul had a budget and kept the fridge (and me) filled. I never had to think about it. I thought about hiring a housekeeper and or assistant (a completely superfluous consideration as I had all the time and physical ability in the world) but the girls shot me down, saying that they didn’t feel comfortable with the prospect after what had happened with Paul.

The final thing was nudity.

So much exposure.

If I am being honest, in the back of my mind I had somewhat hoped it would be the case as there is nothing like the visual of a nude woman… but I never realistically expected it to actually happen. It seemed that Stacy had a tendency to walk around naked. Not to the mailbox, but most certainly in the house. Practically every day when she got back from the gym after her final session she dropped her clothing pretty much right at the front door and hopped into the hot-tub. From there she would maybe put on something extremely light afterwards, often nothing at all.

Karen did not quite have the same penchant for regular nudity that Stacy had but most certainly did not go out of her way to cover herself up either. It was a pretty regular morning to have her walk fully nude out of their shared bath and back into her room to change. Or, if Stacy happened to be using her bathroom it was a standing invitation that either one of them could use mine and obviously most people don’t shower clothed. In the evenings or her off hours she would also lounge around in loose clothing that made it quite obvious that she was not wearing any undergarments.

Of course just because someone is nude does not mean the situation is sexual. Disappointingly enough, my sexual encounters with Stacy seemed to decrease a bit after she moved in. She had made it clear in the build-up to her moving in that she did not see us as an exclusive couple either at that point or moving forward. Maybe she was moving on from me. Maybe she was worried about Karen’s reaction. I was not too concerned with it as her friendship meant far more to me than the sex.

As far as sex between me and Karen, well, there was none. Not any real sex at least. Certainly no penetration. She certainly was a tease though. Besides the nudity she would sometimes just “get up on me.” I might be just standing in the kitchen getting something out of the cupboard and she would give me a very tight hug and quite obviously press her breasts into me in a “more-than-a-friend” way. There had been circumstances where she would lean up against me from behind and rub my dick through my pants. Finally, there had been a couple of occasions where she had woken me up with soft massages and kissing. The common thread between every single one of the encounters was that she basically pushed herself away from me just before I reacted and things could have gone somewhere and mumbled “No, no, no… shouldn’t do it” as she walked away. I couldn’t quite tell if she was messing with me or if it was legitimate internal turmoil. I simply thought it was all good fun so I didn’t make a big deal out of it at all.

The good news is that none of it affected me in a blue-balls sense because I had started dating a bit. Granted, it was just a couple of short-term pairings, no more than 2 or 3 dates each time, but it was enough to remind me that there was still companionship out there to be had. The hard part in the back of my head is that I knew I didn’t want to have a steady relationship because I didn’t particularly have stability in my life. What I was going through, with Stacy and Karen and even my living situation, was a somewhat organic period of self discovery. That was probably the biggest reason I wasn’t getting frustrated with the on-again/off-again sex with Stacy. That was the reason I wasn’t getting my panties in a bunch with Karen’s teasing. If it happened, it happened. If it didn’t, oh well.

————–

It had been some time since I had been down to the beach and figured there was no time like the present to get out there. Karen was not in the apartment, Stacy was up in the gym, it was a perfect time to just head on down to relax and soak up some sun.

The beach itself was empty. While it was never shoulder-to-shoulder and there was usually about 50 meters in between occupants, there was always some activity izmit yabancı escort on the sand and the water but that day was completely different. I think in the couple miles of beach expanse I could see 3 people and they were all at the farthest end away.

I made my way to my “usual” spot. To call it my usual spot based on the limited times I had even gone was a bit silly, but it was the same location that I found Stacy in the very first day as well as the day that she and Karen played their “trick” on me. It offered an excellent selection of both sun and shade as well as normally offering a very nice view of the rest of the beach occupants, though that day only offered a very nice view of the fine, white sand. Very seriously, I couldn’t see a single person in any direction from where I was. Setting out my chair and my little bag, I plopped down and opened up my book.

Under normal circumstances I rarely got through more than a couple of absent-mindedly scanned pages because of all of the distractions though that day was a little different. The book was good, a typical big-name-author mystery thriller that normally kept me pretty entertained. Nothing highbrow or intellectual, just something that kept me turning pages and using my brain a little.

I was actually getting into a rhythm with the book when I was alerted to the first signs of life within my periphery. Looking up, wouldn’t you know it, was Karen. We caught eyes and she smiled.

“Hey!” I was honestly excited to see her.

She was not yet nude like I was but instead was wearing running shorts and a sports bra.

“Hey, yourself,” she replied. “I didn’t expect to see you here but have to admit that it is a very welcome surprise.”

I stood up to greet her and she somewhat indicated that I should hang on as she put down her things and got herself situated. I tried to put myself to good use in the meantime, helping her spread out her beach blanket and getting her bag set aside. Karen, for her own part, got down to the “nude” part of nude beach, peeling off her shoes and socks, shorts and bra. As always, she was a beauty. Though, it was a bit hard to tell as she seemed to be avoiding looking at me.

“All set?” I asked as we seemed to finish.

She was silent but turned around and I could see that she was crying.

“Whoa,” I questioned, “what’s this?”

Karen stepped into my and latched her arms around my chest pulling herself incredibly tight into me and buying her face into my neck. She was whimpering.

I held her for a while. Just petting her hair and offering consolation before I was able to get her face up and speak to her eye to eye.

“What’s going on here? What’s wrong?”

She let go of me and stepped back, wiping the tears away from her eyes.

“What the hell has happened to my life? How the hell did it get to this point? How did I get here?”

“Karen, you are going to have to step back a bit and tell me what is going on because I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”

“Oh. I figured that Stacy had filled you in with everything.”

Karen sat herself down on one side of her beach blanket and patted her hand down to have me sit as well. She composed herself and spoke.

“Everything seems to be falling apart. I thought that, after my divorce, it was going to take some time to get back on my feet and I was okay with that. It did take some time, but then the floor seemed to fall out.”

She was sitting indian-style, having fully composed herself, and was speaking to me in a calm, direct manner. Besides the fact that we were both nude, her skin glistening in the sun and her breasts fully on display, this could have been a professional interaction.

“You know about the issues with my job. Well, I got let go last week. The doctor’s wife told him I had to go and that was it. I can’t say the parting is totally bad, I left with a very nice letter of recommendation as well as a full year of severance but it never feels good to be out of a job.”

She was right, being out of work sucks if you want to be working.

“Then I found out that my ex just hit some very, very hard times and is basically bankrupt. We separated on good terms and I feel awful for him, but I feel more awful for our daughter who now needs to switch schools.”

“Wait, you have a daughter? How did I never know that you have a daughter?!” I was almost insulted by the revelation. While we were not as close as Stacy and I there was still enough of a bond that I figured I would know at least that.

Karen had a confused look on her face. “I guess I am not sure, to be quite honest. I certainly wasn’t hiding her from you. She’s great. Sometimes on the shy side, sometimes on the silly side but an overall great kid. 21-years-old and about to start her junior year of college. The problem is that she was going to an extremely expensive private school that we can simply no longer afford. She said that she would take out loans but there is zero chance I would let her try and get started in life with that type of debt. $125k for two years of school just isn’t worth it, especially since she is most likely going to have grad school on top of that. The good news is that our local state university actually offers a really great program but she has to have a year of residency. So, she is going to move down here for the next year, gain residency, and go back.”