The Third Date 01: Clueless of Cotham - Sex Stories

The Third Date 01: Clueless of Cotham

... it was Emma!) Call me old-fashioned, but I still loved reading, mostly historical fiction if not the classics themselves. Minette Walters, Ken Follett, the Bröntes, George Eliot, Phillippa Gregory. I loved them. Shame men like that only seem to exist in books, and in the past at that. Reading the students' essays was nowhere near as rewarding, but I did get a little thrill on my friend's behalf as I corrected and annotated, seeing how Jenny had been able to guide them to an understanding of Austen's craft and themes. She was a good teacher and I was proud of her.

I'd nearly finished, just two books left, when the front door opened and voices came in. It was 11:30.

"What's up babes!" Nadine came in from the hallway carrying her guitar case, "what's going down, a marking party?" Her almond eyes flashed with humour from behind her springy dark fringe.

"Yeah, you missed all the fun! How was the gig?"

"She was fucking brilliant, as usual," chimed in Melissa, throwing her jacket onto the back of a chair. "Had them eating out of her hand."

"Aw, stop it....but yeah, for real, it was good. Would have loved some cello and harmonies up there with me fam..." she looked at me meaningfully and I frowned, so she immediately backed off, "...but it was all good. Solid. Sold 11 CDs and got paid, so I can definitely pay rent this month."

"Shut up! Keep it, you earned it," said Jenny.

"Don't you fucking dare," growled Melissa, wagging a finger mockingly.

Nadine was ...

... trying to make it as a singer-songwriter. She'd been on my course, and had met Jenny through me. Melissa, who I'd gone to school with and had known since we were 11, had been Nadine's flatmate in Halls. We'd all met up in the first term at a gig and all hit it off straight away, then had moved in together in our second year and had never left. That was 4 years ago now. Melissa, a junior solicitor, Jenny and I all earned enough to be able to get our own places if we wanted to, but we had no motivation to do so. We liked living together and could afford to live in trendy, central Cotham by pooling our resources. Plus, it meant we could support Nadine. She had been working in retail until last June, but then we'd encouraged her to quit to focus on her music full time, forcing her to accept our support. Between the three of us, we could easily cover her share of the rent. She was brilliant, a soulful singer with a captivating stage presence and tender, hooky lyrics, kind of like a modern day Joan Armatrading or Tracy Chapman. She was building a following online and live, but getting a record deal these days was so hard. She'd self-released 2 albums (both of which I'd played and sung on), but Spotify's stupid payment system meant she got nothing from streaming, though she had a few Patreon supporters. The bookings, however, were coming in, and Melissa often drove her to gigs - they'd been in Bath that night. We didn't want her money. She was our friend and we believed in her. That ...