[M]y life after moving into a share house with two beautiful women...

This is the story of breaking up with my girlfriend, moving cities, and starting a university degree during which I would entangle my life with two beautiful girls living in a small, intimate share-house.

This is the story of my life at Lamington Avenue.

After I finished high school, I remained in my hometown after getting serious with my high school girlfriend. We went backpacking and travelled and led a idealistic life of two blissful 18 year old with non-existent responsibility. We worked when we wanted and travelled as we liked. Money didn't bother us as wherever we stopped we worked in exchanged for free board and food, spending very little. In a way, it was pure; the essence of adventure of two free spirits.

But we were volatile.

It fell apart when my girlfriend fell ill. We returned home so she could heal but during this time she slept with an acquaintance within my friend circle. So, it ended.

Harsh. And hard.

But we weren't meant for each other. We were just to young to realise.

I was not hugely emotionally healthy looking back; I moved away to study - something my parent had always wanted me to do - and was homeless and looking for a place to live.

Now, this makes my move sound braver or scarier than it actually was; but in reality, the internet made finding a place easy and the Australian government gives degenerates like me more social welfare than there is rice in china. So I was okay.

My search led me find Claire.

Now, obviously her online post didn't contain photos of herself, merely photos of the house and a description which was in a great location and very cheap. So we organised to meet at the house, have a guided tour and then go out to dinner to see if we were compatible as roommates.

And that when I first saw Claire... And Kerri.

Claire was blonde, adorably cute and looked like the girl next door. Kerri was a Kiwi; dark hair, dark eyes and tan skin. And just the best body; toned frame with great size breasts considering her size. They were both gorgeous.

At one point during that dinner, the girls burst out laughing when Claire got her phone out. I thought I must have said something lame or the girls had an in-joke that I was clearly unaware about. But they were both staring at me with incredulous faces. Not knowing what I'd said, I took a bite out of my burger and reached for my beer. It turns out Claire had stalked me on Facebook and had found a photo of me topless which she had accidentally kept open on her screen. They'd thought I'd seen it.

Fast forward two weeks and the girls had invited me to live with them. As was typically young and gleeful then, I told all my mates how I was living with the two most beautiful girls. We would argue of who we thought was prettier. Typically the outcome was always a mixed result; both Claire and Kerri were as gorgeous as they were different.

Claire and I fast become inseparable. We had the same sense of humour, liked doing the same young and stupid things like stealing street signs, day time drinking and making up living room games which often ended up with us drinking and jumping all over the furniture pretending the ground was lava. Kerri worked full-time in hospitality and was more much serious - or, arguably, sensible - and would sometimes act like a mother to Claire and I.

We all just clicked.

The girls were super keen to throw me a moving-in party so belatedly after about two months we decided to officially host a shindig instead of the usual drunken weekend debauchery we would regularly host.

Claire got uncharacteristically drunk - as opposed to her typical level of happy rowdiness - and I ended up putting her to bed relatively early. As I put a sick-bucket beside her bed and pulled her sheets up over her, she grabbed at my arm pulling me to sit rather awkwardly on the edge of the bed. Without thinking I leaned down to give her a good night kiss but instead of her cheek my lips brushed against her lips. As our lips touched, her lips parted happily and pressed firmly into mine.

I was shocked. It seemed to happen so quickly and ended just as suddenly. I remember whispering "good night" to her as I shut her door and left.

And that was it. Neither Claire, nor I acknowledged our drunken kiss the next morning. I was surprised that I'd kissed her, however seemingly innocently, and I assumed that she had not remembered it considering her state.

I carried this belief for weeks, until one night when Claire proved me wrong. She had remembered it.

It was afternoon. Claire and I were home alone as Kerri had gone to work as normal. We planned to hit the seedier pub area of the city for a uni mixer event, but neither of us seemed content to wait until the night arrived to kick-off the festivities. So in our impatience, we decided to go to the local pub - a fairly rough 'tradie' pub on the street corner - which sold very cheap booze.

It began immediately, with the conversion steering toward sex and the list of "initiation tasks" the girls had set for me since I had moved in. Claire teased me that I had yet "christened" the house by bringing any girls home yet. I teased her that I hadn't exactly seen any boys doing the post-coital morning walk of shame coming out her door either.

Tonight there was a chemistry between us. An intangible magnetism that neither of us attempted to discourage.

But after about eight drinks each and as the time grew later and later, neither of had mentioned leaving to join our friends. Drunkenly we left the pub and stumbled back in the direction of our house. We found opportunities to touch each other whenever pseudo-appropriately possible. I remember stumbling and gently tripping into her and instead of righting myself, I lingered, touching her. She laughed, a smile in a her eyes.

She looked up at me with blue eyes, her lips turning from a smile into a pout.

"You didn't stay after you kissed me the other night," she said, more quietly than normal. "You could have stayed."

Even after so many drinks, I didn't know how to respond. I knew right then that I could kiss her. As close as I already was to her, I would only have to slightly lean closer…

But I holding myself back. This was my roommate. Everything would change. I liked my new life with the girls. Goofing off with Claire, creating new games together, Kerri telling us to make less noise but then joining in herself.

Claire stood silently looking up at me. She was so beautiful in the half darkness of the tree lined street. I wanted her so bad.

I stopped thinking. And kissed her.

The moment my lips touched her, Claire gently parted her lips. She let out a soft moan of approval. Her lips were warm and open to me as our tongue gently touched. Within a instant, all semblance of my previous self-control was gone.

I pulled Claire into me, the curves of her body fitting perfectly against me. I wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her tight as my other hand reached up to stroked her hair. With our bodies pressed against each other and our kissing growing faster and faster, I could feel my penis growing rock hard within my pants. The long-held desire I'd felt inside of me for Claire became raw and I needed her more than I needed anything. Surely she could feel the length of my cock pressing against her naval?

Claire ground her hips into me, pressing exactly it the right spot.

I pulled my lips away, holding her body close with my arms. "We need to go home," I said looking her straight in the eye.

She pressed her hips into mine, again grinding herself against my hard penis. She smiled. Even in the poor light of the street lamps I could see the glint in her eye.