On the Saturday evening after I arrived, the two supremely beautiful women retired to their bedroom and soon after, familiar moaning began to drift over into my hearing. Obviously, I hadn't had sex since Ellie, which was now almost four months ago. I'd barely even masturbated since then. For some reason, my magazines just didn't have the same appeal to me.

But now, hearing the two of them sent new thrills into my body. I'd been staring at the ceiling, wallowing in my misery when they started up. Unbidden, the images of both their naked bodies floated into my mind. I knew what they both looked like, having memorized their naked curves during that fateful Winter break and imprinted them into permanent storage.

My dick reacted before I did, and soon the urgent throbbing proved to be too much of a distraction. I grabbed the box of tissues and wrapped my hand around the shaft. And so closing my eyes, I surrendered myself to old fantasies half- remembered and listened to the aural sounds of feminine pleasure. And when relief finally came, it kept coming and coming until all the pent-up stress had gone away, at least for a little while. And then I got my first good night of sleep in a long while.

Fourth and finally, Danielle and Cherys were the primary reason I started to go out at interact with the world once again. Well, them and their hot friends.

Danielle and Cherys had quite the social clique orbiting around them.

Both were very outgoing girls and our off-campus apartment was a popular place to be, so I was treated to a steady flow of Lesbian and bisexual girls in our little living room. Many of them were pretty butch. Some even had biceps bigger than mine. But there were quite a few feminine ones among them, and some pretty ones even rivaled

Danielle and Cherys for sheer beauty.

One thing I've noticed throughout my Life is that gay guys frequently have straight female friends around. I'd heard the term “fag hag" quite a bit. But for some reason, lesbian girls very rarely have straight male friends. Maybe it's just that most straight guys can't handle being around girls they can't have.

So I was usually the only one with a Y-chromosome in the entire apartment. I wasn't gay. And yet, because of the depressive funk I was still in over Ellie, I wasn't even trying to flirt with the bevy of beautiful girls around.

The girls' friends found this odd at first. But once my tragic situation was explained to them, they quickly accepted me and my constant presence. Every hour I wasn't in classes I spent in the apartment.

While I stayed in my own room for the most part, I still had to go to the bathroom on occasion or venture to the kitchen to find food.

Danielle and Cherys' friends got used to my frequent comings and goings and even initiated general pleasantries with me.

“Hey David." “How are you feeling David?" “Good morning, David.”

My response usually consisted of “Hey Leslie (or other woman, insert her name here)" or "I'm fine" or "Good morning." Never more than a two word answer. Never a sentence that might lead to an actual conversation. I just looked at the floor and went back into my room to feel depressed. Quite a few of the girls, lesbian or not, adopted something of a mothering attitude over the poor young boy who'd lost his girlfriend in a tragic accident.

Eventually, some of them got through to me. Little by little, they would draw an extra word or two out of me. And after a while, I even began to Laugh again.

One girl, Nataliya, was a beautiful blonde with soft hazel eyes and happened to be a recent immigrant from Russia. I found her exotic and she never failed to cheer me up with her thickly-accented comments about this strange and wonderful America. She acted like another big sister around me and always stopped by my room whenever she visited.

Cherys even teased her, "You getting sweet on the kid? Or you just looking to marry your way into citizenship?”

I wasn't too worried. Nataliya had a girlfriend and was a lesbian, right? No point getting your hopes up. I'd learned that lesson with

Cherys.

And so as time went on, while Ellie's death had sucked the emotional life out of me, the social person inside started to breathe again. For one thing, the hormones surging inside me refused to let me stay in a completely vegetative state while all the pretty girls were around. I was still far from the outgoing big man on campus I used to portray, but at least the zombie days were over.

The first few days of the quarter, Danielle walked with me to campus, even when it was out of the way of her own classes. If convenient,

Cherys joined along as well. And so after a week or so, many of my new freshman classmates saw me hanging out with two of the most gorgeous women to ever grace the university. It didn't take long for the boys to start asking me about them. And when I started walking around campus with a few of Danielle and Cherys' hot friends, the males in my classes started pestering me with even more questions.

Some of my notoriety from the guys went away when the truth came out that Danielle was my sister and that I was not, in fact, banging any of the girls. But even then, many were asking me how they could get one girl or another to go out with them.

And then came the question I wasn't personally prepared for.

“Hey, if she's your sister, then do you have a girlfriend? What about the other hot chicks?"