by P. R. Paige
"I'm Thursday."
"I like you, Thursday," Momma Nicki says. "You look like you have clean hands."
Momma Nicki guzzles down her water and I drop my head in amusement. She then eases into a standing position and smooths her dress down in front of her.
"Momma is going to go on home now. After you girls finish your good clean and wholesome lunch, I assume you'll be taking your asses' home afterwards."
The room goes silent as all eyes are on Momma Nicki.
Did Rome's mother just utter the word asses'?
Momma Nicki's eyes swing towards Rome. "I'm going to continue to pray for you."
With Rome's arm wrapped around his mother's back, he escorts her out, but she stops him.
"Before I leave, Momma needs your help. One of your beloved relatives, whose name I can't mention has gotten herself into a heap of trouble again. Momma has to post bail."
"Why can't you tell me who it is?" Rome asks her.
"You don't need to know all of that, Son. One must maintain a certain amount of privacy."
Rome's eyes glance upwards. He's thinking. "Wait, does this have anything to do with bingo chips and strawberry pudding?"
"Yes, it does, but I didn't say that. You did."
"So Grandma Robbie has gotten herself into trouble again," Rome realizes.
"I cannot admit or deny that. Now, momma needs some money."
"How much do you need?"
"About $100,000."
"What?"
"Son, we're talking about family here. Besides, it's not like you can't afford it."
"Can I get a check to you tomorrow?"
"First thing?" Momma Nicki asks him.
"Yes, first thing."
I can't even imagine what Rome's grandmother must have done to cause her to be held on $100,000 bond, but then again, maybe I can. After all, Rome's grandmother is the mother of Momma Nicki. Enough said.
Once I know for sure that Momma Nicki has left the building, I say to the girls, "What the…?"
We all share a monstrous laugh and await Rome's return to the dining area.
As soon as I set eyes on Rome who appears equally as amused as the rest of us, I say to him, "So, how does this work? She told us to take our asses' home. What happens if she comes back tomorrow, and we're all still here?"
"She's not coming back tomorrow," Rome insists.
"But what if she does," India asks.
"Will you let me worry about her," Rome says. "You ever hear the saying, she's all bark and no bite? Well, that's my mother."
The only one who appears unconcerned about Rome's mother possibly returning is Storm, which causes me to wonder why.
How is it that Rome's mother seems to know Storm, but not India?
My curious mind would like to know.
The story that I am planning to write is proving to be more interesting, more complicated and more outrageous than I ever imagined.
Episode Eight
On the second level of the House of Rome, in the confines of my private room, I sip my white iced tea. I like this room. Though small, it's bright, it's clean, and I like the way that I feel when I'm in it. I relax with my back against the headboard of my twin-sized bed while I jot down notes about my story in progress.
So far, I am having a great time. The girls are great, Rome is awesome and his mother, how shall I say, is off the chart, but in a very amusing and fun sort of way. I am rather curious about the sleeping arrangements for Rome and the girls. I already know that they all sleep in the same bed. What I don't know is how it works when Rome wants to be intimate with one of them. I mean, do they do it all together, or does one watch while they go at it? My curious mind wants to know, needs to know, and will eventually find out.
While I jar my memory about my first impressions of the House of Rome, there is a knock on my door. I crawl off my bed. Upon opening the door, I see before me, a tall and proud Rome standing in between Storm and India. His arms are wrapped around them, their heads buried into his forearms, violating ever sense of his personal space. They wear thick, lily white bathrobes, the ones that you only see at the five-star hotels.
I absorb the unorthodox and intriguing vision before me. It is definitely a sight to see as it is straight out of the playboy mansion handbook.
"Care to join us for a hot shower?" Rome asks me, still wearing his signature Fedora hat. He enjoys flaunting his women in front of me, it seems, and I can't say I'm not taking pleasure in the show.
I laugh, but I do not speak.
Storm glosses her hand over the side of Rome's face and then down his neck. "Don't you want something interesting for your book?"
My eyes zero in on Storm's ocean blue hair as it shapes her face perfectly. "That I do, however..." I am at a loss for words, not sure what to say, "showering together might be a tad bit too kinky for me."
"There's no such thing as too kinky," India explains.
"There's kinky, and then there's kinky and this, what you guys are doing is definitely on the side of the later," I say.
"You did say that you wanted to write a story about all of us, and how we live," Rome reminds me. "Well, this is how we live."
"Yes, I did say that, but..."
"But nothing," India interjects, "Grab a towel and bring that sexy body of yours in with us."
A part of me wants to say yes and do it, but the other part of me is screaming noooooo!
"How about I catch you guys on the next one?" I suggest.
"That would be tomorrow then," Rome adds.
And the three of them are gone.
I'm not sure I will be any more ready tomorrow than I am today, but right now, I just need to buy a little time. My brain spins as I recall the three of them standing in my doorway, inviting me to shower with them.
Am I really ready for all of this?
Will I be able to keep up with the many adventures happening in this house?
I just don't know.
Yes, I did say I wanted to know how they lived, but somehow I didn't expect it to involve taking a shower with three other people.
It's been more than forty-five minutes since Rome and the ladies stepped away from my bedroom door, and all I can think about is what if?
What if I'd accepted their offer and joined them in the shower?
I can only imagine and imagine I will.
Lights out, and I slip into bed, but sleep is not on my mind.
I am thinking about Rome.
I'm thinking about the girls, and I'm thinking about sex.
It's obvious that there is much sex going on in this house, and what I can't quite understand is how it is that I am not a part of it.
How did that happen?
How did I end up in a sex house, but me not having any of the sex?
Since I have agreed to a strictly platonic relationship, what recourse do I have?
Will I remain a woman of my word and keep this arrangement strictly platonic?
Or will I fold miserably?
With my pen and notepad still in hand, I am half asleep when there is a knock on my bedroom door. Again. It has to be the entourage, or perhaps, maybe it's just Rome.
I swing the door open and standing before me for the second time tonight, is Rome, India, and Storm, but this time they are not wearing matching white bathrobes. Instead, Rome wears white pajama pants, no shirt and his signature Fedora hat while Storm and India both wear matching pink and white pajama shorts and t-shirts which are engraved: The House of Rome.
Rome's arms are wrapped around his two ladyloves as if they are primed for a Christmas photo.
They are hell-bent on flaunting their lifestyle before me, and I am hell-bent on witnessing it.
"We just wanted to wish you a good night," Rome says to me.
"Thank you," I say.
"Are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable joining us in our room?" Storm asks me.
"I'm sure," I say, "but thanks for the offer."
When I close the doo
r, the three of them laugh and carry on, and I can't help but feel a little left out. No, I feel a lot left out. I want to be a part of the party, too as I have already had a taste of how much fun we are all together. Unable to ignore what I am missing, I place my ear against the door and continue to listen until their laughter fades into silence.
I have been trying to sleep for two hours now with no success.
Maybe it's because it's my first night sleeping in the House of Rome.
Maybe it's because I am in heat.
Or, maybe it's because I am curious as to what Rome and the girls are doing?
Maybe this living arrangement is just too much for me.
Exhausted from trying to fall asleep, I fling the covers off me and scramble out of bed. Down the corridor, I creep my way towards the master bedroom, what Rome refers to as the family sleeping room. As I inch my way closer, I am besieged by loud sexual moans trailing from inside the room directly across from the family sleeping room, which I believe is Storm's room. I can't be for certain if the sounds are emanating from Storm's room or the family sleeping room. It's doesn't take me long to figure out that it's definitely Storm's room, but is it Storm on the other side of that door or India.
As I continue listening with a perfect ear, the sexual whispers escalate, louder and louder, and I am now a big ball of intrigue.
What the heck is happening in there?
Is it the three of them?
Is it Rome and India?
Is it Rome and Storm?
I don't know what exactly is happening, but whatever it is, it is something wonderful, and I want in.
My breathing slows and the perspiration crinkles down my forehead. My body is overheating, and I swallow hard. With my eyes wide and gaping and my mouth open, I gently ease my ear against the door. Hypnotized by the sounds of ecstasy coming from the other side, I fan myself. I still don't know if it's Storm or India, but what I do know is that all kinds of ideas are rummaging through my mind:
Are they having oral sex?
Is it anal sex?
Something in between?
What is it?
The moans continue to echo louder and louder, so much I want to break down the door like a crazy person and see for myself what the hell is happening in there. Sure, I have had great sex before, but I have never made those kinds of sounds or even witnessed those kinds of wails before.
There are sexual noises, and then there are sounds of ecstasy, and what I am hearing are sounds of utter ecstasy. At this moment, all I can do is breathe softly and smile, and wish that one day I might be on the other side of that door.
How do you know when you are fantasizing too much?
You wake up with a splitting headache.
This is my situation when I awaken the next morning after my long hours of theorizing about the late-night goings-on in the House of Rome. My mind is still searching for answers as I step into the shower, the warm water pouring down onto my face.
What exactly was happening on the other side of that door last night?
My curious mind wants to know, has to know. After my fifteen-minute shower, I towel dry myself off and from the opened bathroom door, I see a set of female legs on the side of my bed. I stroll from the bathroom, into my adjoining bedroom and quickly learn that it is Storm sitting on my bed, apparently waiting for me.
"Do you have any vitamin C?" Storm asks me as I approach her. "I'm all out."
"No, I sure don't. How long have you been in here," I ask her, puzzled.
"Not long," Storm says, flapping her leg back and forth. "Rome wanted me to find out if you were going to join us for breakfast? He's making his world-class French toast."
"You can definitely count me in because I have never met a piece of toast that I didn't like."
Storm stares down at my feet as my toenails are decorated with clear nail polish. "You have beautiful feet. Who does your feet?"
"I do them myself."
"Let me see," Storm says, "Place your foot up here," pointing to her lap.
I move in her direction and lift my foot onto her lap. I watch her lovingly touch each one of my polished toenails, admiration in her eyes. "You have the prettiest toes. Anybody ever tell you that?"
"Never," I say. After several seconds, I ask, "May I put my foot down now?"
"Yes, of course. I'll see you downstairs."
Storm eases up from the bed and is about to disappear. Her back is to me.
I open my mouth to speak, but I hesitate. I have something I want to ask her, and damn it, I'm going to do it.
"Storm," I say, hesitantly, as I tighten the towel around my body.
When Storm turns to face me, my mouth opens, but no words come out, then the courage to speak erupts in me. "Can I ask you something?"
Storm stops in her tracks and swivels in my direction. "Only if it's something interesting."
"Oh, it's interesting," I assure her.
Storm then flops down on the bed and honors me with her full attention. "Well, in that case, I'm all ears."
I stand with my back against the chest of drawers, toss my shame aside, and just come right out and ask her what is gnawing away at me. "I was up late last night," I say, "and I happened to hear a little of what was going on in the room directly across from the family sleeping room, which I believe is your room."
"And?" Storm asks with a delightful smile.
I don't speak right away. I am embarrassed, speaking about such private and personal happenings. "I heard some unusual noises, sexual noises that is, noises that I have not heard before and was wondering exactly what was happening in there. I mean, I'm sure it was sex. I'm just wondering, exactly, what kind of sex was it?"
All the while I am speaking, I am witnessing what looks like intense amusement on Storm's face. "Interesting," Storm says. "You were eavesdropping, weren't you?"
I fold my hands in front of me, wanting to appear naïve, yet inquisitive. "I wouldn't say eavesdropping per se. It was more like overhearing."
"Sounds like eavesdropping to me." Storm smiles and exhales a long breath. "Did the sounds turn you on?"
"Turn me on, you ask," I say. "That's one way of looking at it."
"What's the other way of looking at it," Storm asks me.
"Okay, it turned me on. I admit it."
Storm scales her finger down her cheek as if pondering what she might say to me next, but she says nothing.
"So, are you going to tell me?" I ask Storm. "Was it you and Rome or Rome and India or all three of you?"
"What you're thinking about right now is in the porn section of the video store. We don't do that around here," Storm explains.
"Is there a video store around here?" I ask her as I am overcome by an overwhelming desire to watch an adult movie.
"No, there isn't," Storm says. "I know you might find this hard to believe, but it's never the three of us, not like that."
"Never?" I question.
"We haven't yet. Let's just say that." Storm rises to a standing position, looks as if she is about to leave, then turns to me. "I'll tell you what I'll do for you since you're so curious and everything. Here's what I'll do. If you join us this evening in the family sleeping room, I'll tell you what Rome did to me last night that caused me to make all… of… those… noises."
I swallow hard as her words halt my breathing. "So it was you and Rome."
"It was me and Rome," Storm confirms.
"If I join you in the family bedroom, what exactly will I have to do?"
"Nothing, just join in on the fun. That is all. You know you are dying to find out how we spend our nights anyway."
"Tell me, Storm. Why is it so important for you, Rome and India to have me sleep in that bed with you guys?"
"Can I be honest?" Storm asks me.
"Please," I say, readying myself for what she is about to say.
Storm steps close to me, overtaking every ounce of my personal space. "We like you, Thursday. We've liked you since we met you."
<
br /> "Really?" I say.
"Yes, really, and the other reason we want you in the family sleeping room with us, is because it's fun. We have a good time in everything we do, and we want you to be a part of it."
Her words are so sweet, and suddenly I have no more questions.
Storm winks her eye at me. "I'll see you downstairs." She is almost out the room, then double backs in my direction. "Besides, you're going to need this information for your book. You are still writing a book, right?"
"That's the plan."
"Good, then it's settled."
And Storm is gone.
I change into my cream-colored leggings which I purchased online two weeks ago and slip on my flip flops. I ponder Storm's proposal with favor. It could be fun, and more importantly, I might actually learn something, specifically, what was the genesis of those magnificent noises last night.
Freshly squeezed orange juice greets me warmly when I embark on the all-white kitchen. Several windows sit open with lots of natural light pouring in. While Rome stands at the stove preparing French toast, Storm sits at the table steeping her lips in lip gloss, which I find odd as we are about to eat breakfast, but then again, this is the House of Rome, and nothing makes much sense around here.
"Good morning, Sexy," Rome says to me.
"Good morning," I say in return.
I slump down in the chair next to Storm. The layout is the same as before: Three chairs on one side for the three of us and one chair on the other side for Yours Truly. It comes as no surprise to me that there is a small lavender elephant statuette in the center of the long oak table, apparently representing some type of symbolic message in this house.
Rome prepares a cup of black Argo tea and sets it in front of me.
"So, what's with all of the elephants?" I ask Rome.
"They're powerful creatures, sweet, smart and loyal," Rome says. "And a few weeks out of every year, they go a little crazy."
"A little like you, Rome, right?" Storm says.
"Absolutely," Rome agrees.
Storm hands me a bottle of black fingernail polish. "Here, check this out. Put this on your thumb, and tell me what you think."