The New Girlfriend

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Feigning continuing sleep I watched through slitted eyelids as a naked Monica slid out from under the duvet and began rummaging in my dresser. She selected a pair of my boxers and a worn tee and took them with her, I heard the shower running. She was wearing my boxers and tee when I followed the smell of coffee to the living room.


“Shower first” Monica said as she noticed me, I liked that bossiness, I took it as a sign that she thought of me as hers after just one night together. 

Monica was my first, not only my first girlfriend but the first girl I had kissed as well. Her wearing my clothes seemed strange, none of my friends mentioned their girlfriends wearing mens clothes and at 22 I was not going to reveal my inexperience by asking.


Monica was the opposite of me, she had sisters, brothers and several cast aside boyfriends, plus she was way more streetwise than me. I reasoned as she so casually helped herself to my underwear it must be what girlfriends did.

We alternated, one weekend at my place then the following at Monicas, when friends stopped by she would act as if nothing could be more natural than wearing my clothes around the apartment, changing just before we went out for lunch. Rather than being shocked my mates said, when we were alone, what a great couple we made, so comfortable together as if we had been Monica and David for years. And inside I felt the same, unable to remember a world without Monica.


Just as we gradually became one our closets began to mix, first one of my tees appeared at Monicas, then she would leave a dress in my closet ‘for next weekend’ and so on. I got into the habit of wearing the tee that Monica had changed out to wear home. On the metro my tee would give up memories of her body spray or shampoo, on good days the perfumes would last until I wore it to work next day. To my delight female coworkers sometimes asked ‘what is that you are wearing’ when they detected an alien femininelyness in the air around me. 


We were at Monicas apartment the morning her iPhone chimed, she slipped out from under the cover, said “Julie is coming for coffee” and walked into her shower room. Julie coming for coffee Sunday mornings was a routine that pre-dated us. Monica took clean boxers and tee from her dresser, both mine, of course they were, my boxers and tee are Monicas Sunday morning uniform.


I was in the shower when Julie buzzed the entry phone, that was when the idea came to me. Like all great ideas it was so obvious I could not think why it had taken me so long to think of it…relaxing on Sunday mornings in each others clothes we would be an even more onesome couple. I opened Monicas dresser and picked out a bra and matching panties then her favourite nightgown with little bears printed on it - so faded with time and washing that the underwear showed through. After quick check in the mirror I walked out into the living room…


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