I had a good friend, Colin, who, like me, lived at home. He lived quite a bit further away from the college than I did. Because most of the guys we mixed with were in halls of residence, we found ourselves stuck together. Towards the end of October, I asked Dad and Sophie if they minded him crashing at the apartment. I had put it off because I was worried about what they might say, but I was overthinking it.
Dad did ask that until Colin had stayed a few more times, he didn't come around when he stayed away. This seemed perfectly sensible to me, and we kept this in place until Christmas when it was thought we could relax this. Overall, Colin stayed over seven times in the first term, which helped me get a reality check on my life up to that point. All those stays were on a Friday night. Colin came around with me after our last lecture at two.
We played on the Xbox all afternoon, and Sophie came home at six, as usual. Dad arrived with a takeaway an hour later, and then after eating that, Colin and I went to the college function that evening. Generally, those evenings were spent watching a band in the main bar, having a few beers and a good laugh with the guys we both knew. Sometimes, we stayed on for an after-party in the halls, but mostly, we wandered back around eleven.
Once, Dad and Sophie were still watching a film, but mostly, we quietly went to bed before Colin left the following day. I hadn't realised the effect on Colin until Sophie came home and performed her regular bra trick. His chin dropped down on his chest for the first time, and he was silent for around ten minutes after that; he kept looking at Sophie's tits, then at me and shaking his head.
Of course, I was used to this from Sophie; it was probably the twentieth time I had seen it. One didn't tire of it, but the effect diminished over time. I may have overstated the transparency of Sophie's blouses; often, they had ruffles or pockets, which made them not quite so in your face. You could always see her breasts sway as she moved through, and the nipples were always present.
Colin, I should explain, watched way too much porn; he was noted for it and the ability to recall plot lines from a lot of movies. He always seemed to think porn was like real life, but Sophie's bra trick convinced him that I was living in a porn paradise. I didn't tell him everything, but he thought previously the odd things I said were exaggerated. Now he realised I wasn't telling lies, and he switched up into his porn persona.
Over those seven Friday evenings, for the hour until Dad came home and spoiled it, Colin and Sophie were full-on flirting. There was a sort of dance where Colin tried to shock her, but Sophie responded with something to counter it and raise the bar for the next time. I can't remember the flirty compliment Colin paid her, but the next time Sophie went to top up her wine, she moved behind Colin, thanked him for it and pressed her breasts on his back.
It was game on, and Colin asked Sophie if she considered herself a MILF. I was shocked and almost spurted out my sip of beer, but Sophie countered that although she was a stepmom to me, she had no children, so the title wasn't appropriate. The unsaid part of the conversation that hung in the air was that Colin had declared he wanted to fuck her, which Sophie seemed to find inoffensive.
After a little more banter, cut short by Dad's arrival, Colin had convinced Sophie that SMURF might be more appropriate. As he spelt it out to her, Step Mother Up (for) Repeated Fucking. This word was a smiling competition between them, with Sophie purchasing a blue Smurf hat for the following Friday as a present for Colin. For the rest of that year, he also addressed her and Dad as Mr and Mrs M. My surname did start with M, but when Dad was about, Colin was calling my stepmother a MILF in plain sight.
She made a little smiling, mewing sound when he said it. When we went out that Friday night and every Friday night afterwards, Colin convinced me repeatedly that one day he would fuck Sophie. She was definitely up for it, in his opinion, and he might be suitable, judging from her responses. Only the fact that my father was there stopped it. It had nothing to do with me being there as well, because there was no way I was letting that happen to Dad.
The reason I thought there might be something in it was that Sophie managed to contrive reasons where Colin and I needed to take off our tops to compare biceps or flatness of the stomach or general all-around physique. Unfortunately for Colin, I beat him in all the straight comparisons. This generally involved Sophie standing in the middle while rubbing Colin and me more than a few times and eventually giving a verdict.
Sophie would then announce to Colin that if it came to a competition, and she was going to cheat on my father, then it would be with me. The last weekend before Christmas, Colin insisted on us stripping down to our boxers whilst Sophie checked us out. What was true, though, was that as the weeks passed, Sophie chose noticeably more adventurous clothing. Colin's infatuation with her was a topic of conversation between us on the nights when Dad was away.
Sophie went through a phase of ordering new black skirts for work online and then modelling them for me before dinner. She would buy three, the first a straight replacement for her work one and then two shorter versions. The first was borderline okay for work, and the second almost showed off her stocking tops or had a split that did. Did I think that Colin would get turned on by the shorter versions?
I already knew the answer to that. After a while, Sophie confessed she was taking a shorter skirt to work on a Friday and changing into it as she left to come home. The shorter version was supposedly for visiting a bar, so nobody at work commented when they saw her, but the effect on Colin was to turn his porn button up to the maximum. The next evening, she wore one, which was very noticeable.
Colin went through a long set of questions and answers about sexual positions. Sophie answered all his questions, which turned both him and me on. On the last Friday that Colin stayed before Christmas, Sophie excelled. She had gone to work in a skirt suit with a matching waistcoat. She returned in a very short black skirt that wasn't the original. She removed the jacket, pulled off her bra, and walked around in the short skirt and waistcoat.