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This is a question House Guests

"Last week," Ungersven confesses, "I vomited over almost everything in a friend's spare room. The only thing to escape the deluge was the rather attractive (alas engaged) French girl who was sharing the bed with me." Tell us about nightmare guests or Fred West-a-like hosts.

(, Thu 6 Jan 2011, 14:20)
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in her bed and all....
Way back in the late 90's, I was living with a girlfriend, we'd been together for a couple of years, and we shared with another fella (Dave) also. I wouldn't call the relationship a fantastic one, but we were both very *used* to it, and so it just sort of.....carried on. Now I'd been overseas for a few months recently, doing the touring musician sort of thing (not very successfully, but never mind, had tons of fun) and now it was the gf's turn to have a big trip abroad - I was financially tapped out and anyway, she rather fancied a bit of an adventure. We had a relatively 'adventurous' relationship in some respects anyway, and had a nice deal that "what happens on tour stays on tour". Lovely. Off she went and it was just Dave and I in the house. Quite peaceful actually.

Now what happens next had happened countless times before. I good friend of mine, we'll call her K for now (you'll see why later), also a mate of the gf's, simply landed at the door 'between houses' as it were, seeking a roof for a spell. Fantastic! Not your average couch-blagging freeloader at all was K, just a bit challenged when it came to organising stability in a domestic sense. Great company, good cook, a genuine sharer of comestibles and combustibles, and Dave was happy about it too. For now.

The little cultural pond that existed about us at that time was a most cosmopolitan, hippyish, new-agey, entrepeneurial, hedonistic and definitely promiscuous one; the sort of aesthetic mini Golden Age that can spring up and survive for a few years in any welfare state with great weather and a sea view before the yuppies move in, start renovating old houses and price all the interesting people out. So seeing as how K and I had been such great mates and shared houses and indeed beds for many a year, it was rather unusual that we'd never been er, actually intimate with each other. We looked alike, (both tall dark and skinny with good Northern European noses), hung out all the time, were physically affectionate and had a standing joke about so often being mistaken for lovers and/or siblings. Yet neither of us had ever felt or expressed any sexual attraction to each other. Which for me at least was especially odd as she quite frankly is a stunner.

It's winter time, and this is a two-bedroom house, so naturally K bunks in with me. Now it's your turn. You fill in the week or so of slowly building and slightly unsettling sexual tension that ensues. Moments upon waking of each ever-so-slightly leaning in as one might start to with a lover for a kiss, the unspoken jollity of finding ourselves giggly like schoolkids and increasingly cuddly on our trips down to the cafe and so on until....

....well, apparently I was "never going to do anything about it" so K made all the moves one morning and within a few short months K became Mrs Dadadali. Going on 14 years later we're still married, even if the whole world of us has changed incredibly.

What a shit thing to do to your gf, eh? I only saw her the once after that (she didn't come to the wedding) and during that attempt at some reconciliation I managed to stoically wear a couple of glasses of water, a large glass of (quite decent) red, and the closer was half a plate of pasta. Fair enough, but I had to walk then, it was getting dangerous.

Still, housemate result!
(, Sat 8 Jan 2011, 5:16, closed)
O
Why has a clicksome
(, Sat 8 Jan 2011, 17:22, closed)

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