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I Love Lesbians
by Captainrat
My years working in Hollywood, though it was indeed in the entertainment industry, were not so financially rewarding. My employer was a prosperous enterprise called Le Sex Shoppe on Hollywood Boulevard., where I worked the evening shift as the sales clerk. It was both enjoyable and educational, a store full of books, magazines, erotic appliances, 8-mm films, and several coin-operated movie viewing booths where customers could enjoy watching in private. These were the days well before videotapes and the internet.
Those movie booths were popular. The most frequent transaction was changing dollars into quarters, several of which were needed to watch an entire 15-minute movie. Though there was supposed to be only one person per booth, they were often shared by two.
Aside from the reading material, I learned a lot by observing the customers, noting what literature and merchandise they bought, revealing a wide variety of kinks one would never have guessed so many people had.
My pay wasn't bad for the time, but I was still on a budget; my tiny apartment cost more than I liked. When I happened to see a classified ad to share a 2-bedroom house, I was immediately interested. I called the number. The woman who answered sounded pleasant, and she invited me to come see it. I was met by two women, Eileen and Catrina, who explained that they were a couple, sharing one of the bedrooms, and I could rent the other one. It was cheaper yet nicer than the little apartment I was renting. I moved in at the end of the month.
With my evening schedule, I seldom saw my housemates, who worked mornings. When I did, they were friendly and polite though I kept in mind they weren't interested in men, and I respected that. Both were quite attractive in a natural, unadorned way.
When I got home from work, usually around 2:30 AM, the women were presumably asleep, since the house was usually quiet. I went to my room and perused the books and magazines I had borrowed from work. The store was my library. I was careful to aim my semen spurts elsewhere, so I could return the erotica unstained in a day or two. One night, though, I began hearing giggles, squeals, and moans coming from their room, gradually increasing in intensity and volume. Instantly I started imagining the two of them nakedly together, writhing in pleasure, kissing, licking, and rubbing. The sounds ended in satisfied sighs. I didn't need the erotic pictures that night.
I didn't tell them what I'd heard; I didn't want to inhibit any future performances. When saw them next, I began to see them more as sensual women, noticing how they moved and looked at one another, and observed the shape of their bodies. I still assumed they were unavailable, but my imagination provided vivid erotic thoughts that would pop up even on silent nights.
It was a Saturday, my day off. I woke up about noon, as I usually did, and decided to go out for a leisurely breakfast. I stopped on the way home for a 6-pack, figuring I'd like a beer later on. When I walked in the house, the women were sitting on the couch watching TV, casually snuggled together. "Hi, Owen," Eileen said. "Off work today?"
I walked to the kitchen to put the beer in the Fridge. "Yes, it's my evening off." "Come have a seat", Catrina invited. I sat in a comfortable-looking upholstered chair a few feet from the couch. Catrina smiled and said, "We just wanted to let you know that we're happy to have you here. Of course, it helps our budget, but also we appreciate that you respect our sexual preference."
"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?" I replied. Eileen said, "Lots of men don't. When we go out in the evening, to a bar or a concert or a movie, men often try to pick us up, and even when we make it clear that we're a couple, they keep trying, get pushy or sometimes insulting when we say "No." It gets annoying." "I know, some guys are like that. They're assholes. Just because you're both attractive women, they act as if you owe them something," I said. "You think we're attractive?"
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