[Fiction] A Bundle of Trials

[interesting]

Paola's never been to our place. There's never been any reason to invite her. While we're coming in, I rush to make sure the door to the play room is closed. Somehow, I don't need her to accidentally see the tools we have in there. I'm really nervous and I'm wondering how Claire is keeping her cool.

"So this is your little love nest," Paola says to us.
"Yep... been here for three years now, ever since we left high school," Claire takes charge of answering.
"It's nice. Love the decor."

We have pictures of each other all over the place, and a few of our friends too. Some are a bit racy but none are indecent. I have a few plants which I always forget to take care of. There's also a picture of my childhood cat. Paola peruses through them while Claire goes to the fridge and takes out a bottle of wine already opened. She pours the both of us a glass.

"Want one?" she asks Paola.
"Sure. But just one. I have to drive home later."
"Of course."

I retrieve the flash disk where the video is and return to the living room. Paola sits in our loveseat. I sit beside her and hand the flash disk to Claire. She wields it in front of Paola's eyes.

"Are you certain you want to see it?"
"No... but I'm here. Have you seen it?"
"I have," I reply. "I... needed to know what was on it."
"And you?" she asks Claire.
"Out of respect for you, no, not fully. Only saw the beginning where you still have clothes on."

Now Paola's blushing again. Claire pops the flash disk into the large screen television. I'm not sure what resolution is going to come out of it, given the quality of the spycam I used. She turns on the television and switches to the proper feed, where she starts loading the video. Paola's eyes widen as she spots the dimly lit office where she works on the screen. I think she wasn't certain she believed us until now. Claire forwards the feed up to the point where she enters her office and Kennedy follows her in. Claire presses pause.

"So... we weren't kidding, as you can see."
"Yeah. uh..."

Paola is uneasy. I chime in.

"I can see this is making you uncomfortable... we'll just delete it."
"Maybe you... no..."

Paola is confused. She gulps down her glass of wine. I want to tell her we should abort.

"I'm gonna need more wine," she tells us.
"Are you certain?" I ask.

Claire is back in the kitchen and returns with the bottle, filling up Paola's glass. She takes another long sip, and Claire fills it back again.

"Thanks."
"So you're certain you want to watch it?" I insist.
"Yes. Let's just do it and it will be done."
"Okay."

So Claire presses play. And then, things get really weird and awkward in the room. We are watching Paola and Kennedy have sex in her office. Paola is staring at the screen. Her wine glass is empty within two minutes of the streaming, and Claire finishes the bottle in her glass. There's sound too, so we're treated to the full vocal experience of Paola and her partner. My panties are soaking wet. I'm not even looking at the screen. I can't tear my eyes away from Paola or Claire. My girlfriend is gently kneading her breasts. Paola's hand is subsconsciously caressing along her thighs.

"My god..." I hear her whimper when she watches herself climax on her desk.

Her wine glass is empty again and I can tell she's tipsy. I want to lean in, kiss her, take advantage of that mood, of her... but my body is frozen.

Suddenly, Paola tells us to stop the tape, and Claire is on it like a hawk. It's about fitteen minutes in, and if I remember correctly, Kennedy is about to get his fun out of her. Paola, in the room with us, not on the screen, is breathing heavily. Even though she doesn't have anything restraining her neck, she seems to have a hard time taking in air. I move closer, less aroused, more concerned.

"Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry... I think I'm having a panic attack."
"Lie down."

I pull her down on the love seat, moving off it to give her the space. Claire is back within moments with a wet towel.

"You drank your wine too fast," I tell her.
"Maybe."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah... better."

She is calming down. My heart is still racing. There's so much that can go wrong tonight with all these chances we're taking. She's calmer now, breathing more regularly. I caress her forehead with the damp cloth. I move it away and plant a kiss on her forehead, then return to rubbing it with the cloth.

All of a sudden, there'a ring at the door. I hear Claire move about and I remember about Lavandra. It has to be her. What is Claire thinking asking her to join us on this night?

Paola is calmer now, and she's staring at me with a quiet smile. I want to kiss her. Desperately. Her lips are so inviting, she's tipsy, she would probably respond well to it, even if it lead nowhere else after. I'm biting my lower lip, holding it back.

"What's wrong?" Paola asks me.
"You're... so pretty. I'm sorry."

She smiles.

"Don't apologize for finding me pretty. That's a compliment coming from someone who likes girls, right?"
"Right."

Suddenly, my mind becomes clearer.

"Paola... can I kiss you?"
"Kiss me?"
"Yes. On the lips."

She marks a pause.

"Okay."

I lean in and lock lips. It's a chaste kiss, lip on lip, but it feels amazing. She's my boss. And mMy girlfriend is welcoming our other guest. I'm so confused right now. I pull back.

"You're a good kisser," I tell her.
"So are you..."

It has to be the wine. I'm not going to push my luck any further. In any case, I hear the footsteps coming in. I help Paola sit back up so we can greet the newcomer. It is Lavandra. My heart skips another beat, like yesterday. She is as gorgeous as in the nightclub. Her red hair towers over her face, a stern gaze in her eyes. She's wearing a one-piece dark blue dress open on each leg, matching stilettos, and a neck line that's almost too indecent to mention.

"Hello," I say.

Claire picks up the conversation.

"Cassie. You remember Leya, right?"
"Of course."

Her real name or the name she's going with tonight? Not that it matters.

"I'm sorry," Leya says, "I didn't know you had company or I would have called ahead."
"It's all right," Paola says, "I'm..."

As she tries to stand, she almost topples over. I'm there to catch her.

"...not going anywhere, apparently."

Her words cause giggles across the room.

"What brings you here?" Claire asks her.
"Well, I was actually hoping you two were available tonight, since I wasn't busy and in the neighborhood but... I see you were already involved in something."

She points to the television screen. The image is still frozen. We see Kennedy's backside as he's putting it inside Paola whose face, thanks to the angle, is not shown. I freak out and turn off the television screen. Suddenly, Claire bursts out in laughter, and Paola emulates her. Pretty soon, I'm laughing too, and only Leya seems lost.

"It's a complicated story," I tell her.
"Well, I have no plans... Should I go?" Leya asks us.
"No, you can stay... if it's all right with you, Paola?"
"Sure. No problem."

We have a relaxed atmosphere, everyone seems to be in good spirits. This is really nice. We shuffle about so everyone can sit down. Claire rushes to the pantry to open another bottle and she starts pouring. When I see Paola offering her glass for another refill, I have to step in.

"Paola, there's no way we can let you drive home if you keep drinking like this..."
"That's fine," she tells us. "I'm having a blast. Besides, I see you have a spare bedroom?"

I have to prevent myself from laughing. She would probably be mortified if she knew what was in that spare bedroom. Claire says nothing so I remain quiet too. Leya chimes into the conversation.

"So what's going on?"

I'm going to answer but Paola, whose inhibitions are now greatly lowered, spills the beans, and she tells most of it to Leya. Her husband's infindelity, their upcoming divorce, the situation with the kids... then, she moves on to her affair with Kennedy, how she tried to break it up, the almost-blackmail and how he finally let her go today, so she's celebrating the end of the old and the beginning of the new. Leya is too smart not to add up the equation.

"So that's me... on the television..." Paola finally admits.
"And you were watching it together?"
"I know!" Paola replies. "Crazy, huh!"
"Not so much," Leya says.

She suddenly seems to ponder all that's been said.

"Kennedy... Ken!"
"What?"
"I met him..."

Suddenly, Paola is exremely interested.

"Really? Where?"
"At this bar I go to... The Caress..."
"Never heard of it."
"It's for pick-ups," Leya admits.
"Oh!"
"Yeah, he's there every night of the week..."
"What? Picking up women?"
"Absolutely..."
"Oh my god that cheating bastard!"

With the alcohol helping, Paola is suddenly coming to grips with all the manipulation she's been under. She doesn't seem sad or angry about it, though. It looks more like a revelation that opens her eyes to things she couldn't articulate before.

"I'm sorry to say... I was with him last week. Didn't know he was stringing someone along," Leya admits.
"When?"
"Wednesday?"
"Shit!" Paola exclaims. "That's the same night as..."
"I'm so sorry," Leya says.
"Don't be. It's not your fault. You didn't know. God! Are all men pigs?"

I am doing my best ot stay quiet and not intrude. Paola is letting all this new information sink in and, in her inebriated state, it makes the processing and acceptance of the facts presented easier. I should feel bad for manipulating her as well, but aren't all relationships a form of manipulation? We are being sincere, as sincere as we can be, I feel. But how does that make us any different than Kennedy, in this case? The silence lingers on.

"So," Leya cuts back in, "it's good you're moving on."
"Thanks..."

Now, things are stalling. Claire chimes in to move the conversation along.

"So... what did you have in mind coming here?" Claire asks Leya.
"Well, to be honest... can I say it in front of her?"

She's looking at me. I need to answer. Paola's still paying attention to everything right now.

"Yeah," I reply. "I... have no secrets from Paola. I hope."
"Secrets?" Paola whispers. "Oooh..."
"Well," Leya continues, "I was hoping for some play..."
"Some play?" Paola chimes in.

She is getting very comfortable in this setting I find, and it's quite a turn-on, to be honest.

"Does she know about you two?" Leya asks us.
"Know what specifically?" I reply.
"No, she doesn't," Claire answers on our behalf. "Perhaps... we should tell her, just so she knows what we're talking about."

And then Claire looks at me and I realize, I'm going to be the one to explain it. And I have no idea where to start!

[interesting]

All eyes are on me. Paola's. Leya's. Claire's. They're all waiting for me to tell them why Leya is here tonight, and it involves explaining what she meant by 'some play'. Her words. Paola's drunk. Okay, maybe not drunk but surely intoxicated to a level that everything seems funny to her, she's talkative and open to conversation of any topic. I've been there so I know how it feels. I guess I have to take the plunge.

"Well, uh... as you know, Claire and me have been together for five years..."
"Five wonderful years," Claire interjects, smiling.
"Yes, and... uh... there's no simple way to say this but... we have a lot of games to keep things interesting."
"Games are nice..." Paola says, clearly not catching my meaning.

I'm sweating here. Then again, I've been drinking too so maybe I'm a little light-headed.

"I mean... uh... sexy games."

Paola is looking at me as if she doesn't understand my meaning.

"That room with the closed door," I finally say, "it has all our toys."
"Toys? Like... sex toys?"
"Yeah... we have a... playroom for... sex."
"Wow!"

Paola's still not getting the full picture I see. I point to Leya.

"So we play together, Claire and me... and sometimes, not often, but sometimes, we... play with other people."
"Oh."

And then it hits her.

"Oh!"
"Yeah... we met Leya at..."
"...at a bar," Leya cuts in, sensing my unease.
"So you two... are not... exclusive?"

It's Claire that answers this one.

"It's not as clear as that. It's about living out fantasies."
"I think I get it..." Paola mumbles.

I'm glad she does, and I'm glad her tone doesn't sound judgemental, even though it doesn't seem to be doing anything good for her either. Leya joins in the explanation.

"Anyway, I thought I would come here, surprise them and maybe we could have some fun together, but I didn't know they had company over."

She didn't. My text didn't mention it. It just told her to come over. Because Claire told me to do so. I wonder if she's pissed. If she had expectations and we blew them, she might be mad. And it seems like she wouldn't be someone you'd want to get mad, given what I recall from yesterday's conversation at the bar.

"Well," Paola says, "I would love to let your girls have your fun but... I can't leave yet, apparently. Unless I call a cab!"
"Nonsense!" Leya answers her. "Besides, you were here first. I should have called."

How Leya can blatantly lie and make it sound like the truth escapes me. She's even better at it than Claire. Maybe she has a lot of experience in that department.

"No, no... if you three want to have fun in that play room, you go have fun... I'll just lie here."

I can't believe what Paola is saying. It's not going to happen, but I still can't really believe it.

"No," I reply. "I'm not leaving you alone."

I turn to Claire and Leya.

"If you two want to have fun, I don't mind, but I need to take care of my boss."
"She's your boss?" Leya spits out, pleasantly surprised it seems.
"Yes."

Paola taps me on the cheek.

"That's sweet of you, Cassie, but don't hold out on my account. I'm fine. I'm quite content just sitting here..."
"Well, I'm not. Content in you staying here..."

Leya is casting a weird glance in my direction, as if she's peering straight into my soul. I feel naked under her stare.

"She really cares for you, Paola, you know that, right?" Leya tells her.
"Yeah, I know. She's the best..."
"And I guess you care for her a lot too."
"I do... she's my best employee and... since this week, maybe my best friend..."

Paola is looking at me while she's talking. I cast a look at Claire. She's smiling. How can she not feel jealous about all of this? I think I would.

"And you trust her?" Leya keeps pushing.
"I do."
"How much do you trust her?"

It has to be the alcohol that's making Paola so receptive to all that's happening.

"Implicitly..." Paola answers.

Her hand moves to my cheek, caressing it.

Leya gets up, stretching her neck and arms, and she moves about the room seductively. My eyes are following her curves, if only because Paola's eyes are locked on my face as she gently caresses my cheek and I don't dare look back. Claire gets up too and moves closer to me, beside me, her hand on my back. I'm feeling loved. I always find it weird when my girlfriend pushes me towards another woman. Like she did for Prissy. Doesn't mean I don't enjoy it, but it always feels a little strange. Leya has walked around the room, and she's looking at the three of us.

"Do you want to play a game, Paola?"
"What kind of game?"

She finally looks away from me and at Leya. Her hand is still on my cheek but it's no longer moving. Claire's hand is on my ass, caressing it over the dress and I'm feeling quite stimulated right now, my entire being challenged by my situation, somewhat caught between my permanent lover and my boss. Leya gets in a little closer, sitting on the edge of the loveseat. We can see her full legs in that position, almost all the way up to her waist. It's quite intoxicating too, as if I needed more stimulation.

"Let me say it because Cassie is too shy to say it. I've seen it before. Heck, I've been on the receiving end of it, like you, Paola."
"Say what?"
"Cassie will never say it because it's inappropriate for her to even think it. I mean, she's your employee, and she respects you too much to act on it. Especially given what you're going through. Given what Ken - Kennedy did to you."

I'm not quite seeing the realization in Paola's eyes, almost like her mind is refusing to accept what Leya is hinting at.

"Her interest in helping you is both selfless and selfish."
"Selfish? How?"

Now, Paola is looking at me, and it suddenly hits her. Finally, her brain is doing the math. Perhaps the alcohol is wearing off. She's staring at me, and she touches her lips with her fingers.

"Oh!"

I kissed her. She remembers. Leya doesn't give her time to say anything more.

"You understand, of course, how bad she feels about it."

If Paola was going to say anything, she doesn't. She stares at me and I see the wonder in her glance. I have to say something or else I'm going to lose it.

"I just... want you to be well. I really do. Anything else is... besides the point. Yeah... you're hot and gorgeous and I really like you and... well..."
"That's kind of you," Paola says.

I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. She's not interested in me. She's not interested in girls. I'm her employee. She's my boss. There's no way this is going to happen. Etc. All that jazz. And I keep waiting as silence demands an answer. Except she says nothing. Claire remains quiet, as does Leya, and I don't know what else to say. I'm about to apologize (one more time?) when Paola finally speaks up.

"What would you like from me, Cassie?"

I pause. This is not the answer (question?) I was looking for - or is it? Now, I'm thoroughly confused. The answer jumps from my lips.

"Nothing you don't want to give."

Paola smiles, almost laughing, casting a glance at Claire.

"Is she always like this?"
"She just cares too much," my girlfriend answers.

I can't look at either of them so I turn to Leya. She's getting a kick out of all this. I'm glad this trip and my humiliation is worth her time.

"Listen, Cassie... look at me."

Now I hear my boss talking. I look up. She seems to be laughing at me.

"Cassie, let me tell you something. In the past few months, I've gone from learning my husband was cheating on me, to indulging in an affair with an... intern out of spite and revenge... almost being blackmailed, almost losing my job, almost my family too... I'm waiting on a divorce. My only salvation was at work, doing what I like, running the company. And, I have to tell you, your presence is always a highlight. Now, did I ever have any interest in you in the past? Of course not. I wasn't there, obviously. But these past two weeks... you have done more for me than anyone has in years. And I sense you really care... and you don't even want to ask for anything in return, because you're so... you!"
"That's because I don't want anything other than for you to be well."
"And I am getting there... but I'm drunk - okay, only a little. We just watched porn together... and not just any porn... porn of me! Did it turn you on?"
"Yes."

My answer is quiet, almost shy. I'm having the same reaction to my boss that I had to Leya yesterday. I'm intimidated.

"Well, it didn't leave me indifferent either. So... we're here, the four of us... and I haven't done anything crazy in years. And I see how your girlfriend looks at you... and at me."

Paola stares at my girlfriend. I'm waiting on something.

"Claire, you want us to do something together, right?"
"I'd love you to see you and Cassie getting intimate, yes. Don't ask me why."
"But do you want to?" I ask my boss.

Again, laughter in the room.

"Cassie, if I wasn't intesrested, at least a little, I wouldn't even talk about it. You've made your intentions clear..."
"But what about work?" I ask.
"Screw work! I'm off the clock. So are you. We're friends."

Leya decides to jump into the conversation at that time.

"Paola, if I may...?"
"Sure. What's up?"
"You've never been in this kind of situation before, right?"
"Don't you try to talk me out of it too!"
"On the contrary. I'm just speaking from an experienced point of view... why don't you let me take the lead and you can follow along."
"Okay... What do you have in mind?"

I sense that Paola and Leya can relate. Both are women of authority, both have strong personalities and strong desires. Paola's just not used to acting them out. Perhaps Leya can help her in that department. Leya smiles at us.

It suddenly dawns on me that I'm no longer in control. Then again, perhaps I never was. And perhaps... it's what I've been looking for all this time.

[interesting]

Leya stands up from the edge of the couch and points to Claire and me. We look up at her, but I cast a quick glance at Paolo, my boss and friend, whose involvement here may have suddenly spiked. I don't understand exactly how it all came to be, but it has everything to do with my wonderful girlfriend's ability to think and plan outside the box. I don't know what Leya has in mind either. It makes it more interesting, I find.

"Cassie, Claire... stand up."

We comply, stepping away from the couch as we do. Leya has Paola slide away so she can sit beside her. They're staring at us now, and I already feel naked, exposed and vulnerable - even before we get started. I love it.

"Now, Paola, what you need to understand about all this," Leya explains, "is that they are in control."
"They are?"
"Absolutely. They relinquish that control, because they enjoy it, but they can reclaim it at any time."
"I think I get it."

Leya turns to us.

"I want you two to kiss like the first time..."

It's not difficult for Claire and me. Every kiss we have feels like that first one. We lock lips tenderly, feeling the warmth travel from one person to the other and back, opening our mouths, intertwining our tongues. The bliss is there, and it feels as wonderful as the first time.

"You see," Leya tells Paola, "it's about the raw emotion you get when you let go. People like us - career women - like to be in charge and in control... perhaps that's why things went sour with your husband."
"Maybe... we kept fighting over the silliest of things."

Leya's hand is on Paola's shoulder, supportive. Paola is smiling. Leya calls out to Claire.

"Refill our drinks, please."

Claire runs to the kitchen with the wine glasses. I stay in the living room while Leya instructs me further.

"Get on your knees and massage your boss' feet."

As I carry out the order, Paola speaks up.

"Actually, could we not call me her boss tonight...? I'd be more comfortable."
"Of course," Leya replies, "what would you prefer?"
"I don't know."

I intervene.

"May I call you 'mylady'?"
"Yes... I like that."
"Very good. Cassie, caress Mylady's feet."
"At once."

I begin work on her toes, and I feel Paola melt in my hands. As Claire returns to us with full glasses, I move up to the plant of the foot, then to the top, moving further to the ankle. Paola is practically purring. I switch foot and I get the same reaction. Paola takes a sip of wine while Leya turns to Cassie.

"I want you to strip out of that dress."
"Yes, mistress," I hear my girlfriend say.

It's impossible for me not to stare at my girlfriend undressing, given the rhythm and eroticism she puts into it, but I never once stop my work on Paola's feet. Soon enough, Claire is only clad in her bra and panties, her shape still the sexiest I have ever seen. Leya seems equally pleased. It's Paola's turn to surprise me.

"Cassie, do the same."
"Yes, Mylady."

I let go of her feet, stand up, and start removing my own clothing. I'm stripping for my boss... no, for Mylady's benefit. And she can't pull her stare away. In fact, she leans over to Leya, and I hear the whispered words.

"I don't get it... why is this turning me on? I'm not into women... or I've never been before..."
"It's not about that," Leya replied in the same hushed tone. "It's about being well, and being in control... and you love being in control. True, Cassie and Claire are beauties in their own right (I blush upon hearing this), but what really drives you forward is that feeling of power... that's what turns you on."
"I see... and it is true that they're easy on the eyes."

I think Claire is also blushing. We're standing in front of our guests, and I'm shivering, though it's not from the cold. Paola stares at me and nods her head quietly.

"I think... I want you on all fours, Cassie."

I drop to the ground and get on all fours, looking up at her.

"Don't look at me."

I look away, at the floor.

"Now look at my face."

Without hesitation, I stare into her eyes. I see the pleasure this game is giving her, and it's making me that much hornier myself. My ass is shaking with anticipation; the folds of my sex start to tingle from all the moistness currently waiting there.

"Cassie, will you do what I tell you to?"
"Yes, Mylady, I will."
"Anything?"
"Yes."

There's no holding back tonight. I am committed to whatever happens, no questions asked, no worries about the future. All the self-doubt is gone, now that she's fully in control.

"All right then... take off your panties."

I remain on all fours as I pull down the piece of garment covering my sex. I slide it off my legs.

"Toss it to me."

I toss it. She grabs it and looks at it in her hand. She lifts them up to her face and smells them. I see the shock in her eyes as she catches the smell of sex from them. She hands them to Leya who also smells them.

"Cassie, you must be so anxious right now..." Leya tells me.

I nod. I'm eager for something, a sensation, anything to touch my sex. Leya looks at Claire.

"Kiss your girlfriend's sex."

And so Claire gets down on all fours as well, placing her head near my behind, and she places her lips near my pussy. My legs slightly part on instinct and I feel the rush of energy drive up into me. I moan long after Claire's lips are gone from my sex.

"How does it make you feel?" Paola asks me.
"Incredible... like I want more."
"I want to give you more," Paola tells me. "I think you deserve more."
"Yes, please, Mylady, give me more..."

It's strange. I've never actually pleaded like this in any of our previous games. When we were with Prissy, I was in charge all the time. Here, I'm playing the dominated, and it's having a number on me.

"All right then... you say you have a playroom?"
"We do."
"Let's go there... but you two crawl," Leya tells us.

And so we crawl on all fours across the living room, down the hall and up to the door. It's Leya's hand that turns the handle and lets us in. I can't see Paola's gaze when she contemplates the toys we have in there. The bondage bed. The love swing. The various hooks and ropes. But I can imagine the effect it's having on her. I cast a quick look at my girlfriend, beside me. She is smiling. Then, I notice Paola is walking around the room.

"I would never have imagined..." she blatantly states.
"This is a very nice room indeed," Leya adds.
"Thank you."

My reply is shy. Suddenly, Paola leans down beside the bed and pulls out the box from under it. She opens it and her eyes widen. She turns to me and I look away.

"Cassie, look up."

I comply. She is holding one of our dildos. She points to the box.

"Have you used all of them?"
"Yes."

We have way too many. A few are actually gifts from Sarah and Jennifer (or maybe we borrowed them and never gave them back). Leya moves to join Paola in perusing the box's content. She immediately grabs the leather belt and waves it around. Paola stares at it.

"It's a strap-on belt," Leya tells her.
"A strap-on?"
"Yes... here... you slide the dildo inside here, wrap the belt around your waist and..."
"Oh! I see..."

I'm on all fours, my exposed sex is shivering in anticipation. I see Claire is equally turned on.

"Well," Leya comments, putting the belt down, "we can probably work our way up to this."

Leya has Paola and herself sit down on the edge of the bed, then have us crawl to them. I'm in front of Paola while Claire is before Leya. We're back to our submissive positions, waiting for the next command.

"So, mylady... what do you wish from our slaves?"

I see Paola has no idea how to proceed. She is turned on, more than she imagined she would be, I gather. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are full of sparkles. Leya understands this too, so she continues with the lead. She pulls down under her dress and removes her panties. She curls them up and leans towards Claire.

"Open your mouth, dear."

Claire complies and Leya stuffs her panties into my girlfriend's mouth. As Leya parts her legs before us, I see the neatly trimmed pubic hair; she is definitely a red-head. I also notice the crease between her legs and it makes me want to dive in - except it belongs to my girlfriend, it seems. Somewhat hesitantly, Paola imitates Leya. As she pulls her own panties off, I catch a glimpse of her sex. She is hairier than most partners I've been with, not that it really matters. It's as inviting as any I've been in front of. It takes a little more nerve for Paola to curl the panties in a bunch and present them to me. I open my mouth and she pushes it in. The taste isn't all that good, to be honest, given she's been wearing those panties all day, but I take it in stride. The rest is just so stimulating.

Paola suddenly moans uncontrollably. Leya has a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine... I have just... never felt like this. I'm feeling... dizzy."
"Lie down on your back."

Leya helps her lie down, then gives me a motion to caress her thighs. So I get to it, and I gently rub and squeeze my boss' hips, and I feel the tension in her body. I hope this helps her relax. The smell of her sex, exposed not far from me, is extremely distracting, but I keep my wits about me. I hear Paola pant as I touch her, but her breathing becomes more regular as I progress. I lose sight of what Claire and Leya are doing for several minutes, until Paola pulls back up and smiles at me.

"Thank you."
"A pleasure, mylady..."

She smiles even more, leaning further towards me, then locking lips. There's more passion in this kiss than in the one before. She is shivering.

"Are you..?" I start to ask.
"I'm fine... listen..."
"Yes?"

My eyes dart to Claire and Leya; my girlfriend is busy gently caressing around Leya's crotch (but never exactly on it). But my senses quickly go back to Paola as she keeps talking.

"I... really... want you to... eat me."
"I can do that," I reply, calmly.
"But only if you want to."

This time, she's the one holding back. She's afraid.

"Only if we both want to," I reply.

She gently nods her head. She wants me to proceed. Doing this, with her... it seems like a logical step in the direction we've been going, but it might also mean never going back, changing our relationship forever. It could be good. It could be bad. But there's no denying the moment. I gently push her back onto the bed and move my lips towards her sex.

It takes me less than a minute to get Paola in a frenzy of conflicted sensations, as I run my tongue and lips against her sex, gently licking and smothering it. Paola can barely keep her legs still; I have to pin her thighs so she doesn't wiggle. She's not saying a single word but I hear the panting from her mouth. She's desperate for me to continue now, and I no longer hesitate. My boss. My friend. She's under my spell and I want her to indulge in all I can offer.

"...Cassie..." she finally whimpers.

My name goads me on. She's coming. I feel it on the tip of my tongue. It's a silent orgasm, as she takes in as much air as she can. She's groping her breasts through the cloth of her dress. As the energy dies down, I pull away, and see that my girlfriend has been doing the same thing to Leya. I find it strange: somehow, I didn't think Leya would indulge so soon. But perhaps she is setting her pace at Paola's, helping her cope with this new experience.

Mylady is shivering now so I climb on top of her and cover her body with mine to keep her warm. Our lips meet and she tastes herself on my lips. The embrace is slow, passionate; my crotch is almost against hers, and the heat emanating from me is almost painful. I need release, so I start to rub myself against Paola's leg. She stops my motion so I hold back.

"You... I..."

Paola can't yet form full sentences.

"Did you like it?"
"I... loved it. I haven't been... I mean, had anyone down there in years and... oh..."

She's hugging me tight now. We hear the moans of pleasure echoing from Leya, so we cast a glance in that direction. Our friend has pulled off all her clothes, and she's lying naked in our bondage bed, with my girlfriend's face buried and held tight between her legs. Leya is humming and moaning with the rhythm of the orgasms that explode inside her, until they dull down and she relaxes, allowing Claire to pull her head out. Paola can't look away. The feel of her skin against mine is amazing, and my sex is still wet, eager to rub itself against anything.

Leya finally opens her eyes, looking down at Claire.

"That was very... efficient."

Claire smiles, and then she looks at me.

"But we can do much more," Leya adds, and it dawns on me that the night hasn't even begun!

[interesting]

Leya is at the top of her game as she recovers quickly from the pleasure Claire has just given her. She pulls my girlfriend up on the bed, beside me, laying her on her back. Claire settles herself on her elbows, looking at us, waiting for instructions. Leya pulls me off Paola and up, standing near the bed.

"You're both such great sports, letting us into your intimacy like that..."
"It's a pleasure," I reply, and Claire's eyes support my answer.
"And I think Paola would agree with me that we want to thank you profusely."

Paola has leaned on the side; her fingers are caressing Claire's side.

"I completely agree."

Leya pushes me back on my knees, to the floor, and moves me so my face is at Claire's crotch.

"Why don't you pleasure your girlfriend?" she tells me.

Like I need her to insist. My fingers slide against the crease of Claire's sex a moment later, ready to give everything I can to my girlfriend. I see Paola lean in, kiss her lips, then move her head to her chest so she can kiss her nipples. This time, Claire is the center of attention. This reminds me so much of the games we used to have with Jennifer and Sarah, and I realize how much I miss them since they're no longer together.

My mind gets distracted by fingers against my own pussy; Leya is gently prodding my insides and I moan under her touch. I keep working on Claire until I hear Paola whisper to my girlfriend.

"Can I... sit... on your face?"
"Of course," Claire answers.

Suddenly, we're even more involved than before. Paola climbs on top of Claire's face, facing me, and my girlfriend starts eating her up, like I did only a few minutes ago. Leya has two fingers in me now and I'm barely able to focus on my own pleasuring of my girlfriend. All of a sudden, it hits me - and then it hits her - and then, it hits Paola. We're all so turned on by the experience that every single attention drives us into bliss. My lips bury themselves on Claire's snatch and I let the pleasure ride both of us.

For the next two hours, our play room becomes a pleasure room. Leya is the first one to put the strap-on belt around her waist, and she uses it on me first. I love how a dildo, strapped like that onto a partner, makes me feel submissive. It's the closest to male penetration there is (barring the real thing) and it's always a very satisfying experience. Paola watches her take me hard while she and Claire huddle together. Then, I get the luxury of watching Leya do the same to my boss, lying on her back. Watching the dildo disappear inside her pussy is almost too much. While that's happening, I also use a second dildo on Claire.

Then Paola gets her hands on the strap-on belt, and I'm her first victim. She rides me (or I ride her, depending on the position) for way too long. My cunt is on fire by that point. I watch Leya and Claire eat each other up in the classic 69 position while Paola - mylady - pounds into me as if she were trying to tear me apart. And then, I watch her do the same to Claire, not for as long but still, while Leya gets up to ramming four fingers inside me, almost her full hand (I have to hold her back before she injures me).

Whether I pass out or I fall asleep from exhaustion, I can't really tell. The pleasure and emotion must have overwhelmed my senses. Regardless, I sleep soundly.

I wake up in the middle of the night with a desperate need to pee. I'm in the bondage bed, with Paola on one side and Claire on the other. I get up but neither of them stirs awake. I kiss Claire on the cheek, then Paola the same way, and I exit the bed. As I walk out, I see the light from the living room, so I walk over. The television is on, and Leya is watching it. There's porn on the screen, and it's not the one I filmed from Paola. It takes me a moment to recognize that the woman in the scene is Leya, and she seems to be enjoying the company of three male companions.

As I walk around the couch (I know she's noticed me but she hasn't moved from her spot), I realize she's masturbating with our small vibrator.

"Leya...?" I start.

She shushes me. I remember I need to pee so I head for the bathroom, get my business done, and return to the living room. By that time, the men on the screen are double-teaming her. They're hunks, young, not necessarily very handsome but very well-defined in their physique. From Leya's appearance in the video, this can't be very old. It's a still scene so it must have been a mounted camera.

"It was quite the night," Leya comments.
"It looks like it," I answer.

Leya is still pleasuring herself with the vibrator. I notice the strap-on belt and dildo are on the couch beside me. Im' wondering if I should put them on. Then, I check Leya's face. It's almost like she's been crying.

"What's wrong?" I ask.
"Nothing."

She's lying, of course, but do I have a right to insist? Then again, we did just make passionate love...

"Why are you watching this?"
"To remind myself of who I am."
"Who you are?"
"A whore..."

I want to slap her, and not for bondage purposes. I hate it when people think like that. She's so much more than that. She helped Paola and me out of our jam. She's smart, challenging, playful and so gorgeous.

"You are not a whore!"

She turns her head to me.

"Why would you say that?" I continue.
"Because.. I can't... Men, they just take advantage of me... women too."
"Then don't let them!"

By that time, in the video, one of the men is done. From the corner of my eye, I catch his cumshot in her face. I reach for the remote and hit pause. There'a still of Paola's face with the semen dribbling down her cheek.

"Is this all you see when you look at yourself?" I tell her, pointing to the screen.
"Sometimes... when I get really intimate and nice, I... and tonight was really intimate..."

I wrap my arm around her neck and pull her head against my shoulder.

"I'm not letting you despair alone. If we're gonna despair, let's do it together!"

She smiles. She pulls up and kisses me.

"I just want the sex to mean something," she whispers to me. "You know?"
"Oh! I know..."

We remain there for a time, silent, until the pause skips and the video resumes. But by then, Leya has calmed down and I have a pretty good idea of what comes next. Not that I mind. Not that Claire will mind.

Sometimes, things just fall into place.

The next morning, we start again. Mind you, not instantly. Most of us need to pee. But then, I tie Paola down on the bondage bed, and the three of us take turns with her sex. I return the favor with the strap-on and make her come hard, all the while providing much pleasure to myself.

"For the road," I say afterwards, as a joke.

But there are things unsaid. Things I need to speak about with Claire. So I indulge in that, hitting the shower with her while Leya and Paola entertain each other in my kitchen (and this time, I mean get to talking, not the other kind of entertaining). I share my ideas with Claire and she seems to agree. I can't do anything without her consent.

With everything said and done, it's time to see how the wheels turn.

[interesting]

It has been a little under a week since the party at our place. Claire and myself have done a lot of talking about it. Bringing in people into our relationship has always been an issue, even when we both wanted it. Prissy wasn't the first. We tend to forget about Sarah and Jennifer, or Bonnie, or a few other girls that have graced our bedroom with their presence. It may seem common, the way I talk about it, but it's not. In the five years we've been together, it's been mostly the two of us. Last year was somewhat more active, partly because of Jim. When he entered Sarah's life, it got us to thinking about some of the things we used to do and it made us more inclined to try things out, like when we were younger. We aren't old by any standard, of course, but we are no longer fifteen.

If Princess was planned, Paola was spur of the moment, and Leya was even more accidental. We like to plan. We can improvise, of course, but that only means the dialogue comes after. And it has.

I love watching girls orgasm. That look on their face, that gleam in their eyes... any girl, really. When a guy orgasms, it's all violence and power. But for a girl, it's all in the intensity of the emotion, the complete abandon. When I'm the one making the girl come, it's even better. Of course, I love being pleasured just as much. Of course, I wouldn't let just anyone do it to me. For Princess, it was a fantasy. For Paola and Leya, it was something different, and that novelty requires some adjustments. You can't have sex with someone you are close to, someone from work for example, and expect it not to affect your relationship with them. I have had a talk with Paola since then, but my first order of business was Claire. We agreed on how to proceed with Paola, which then allowed me to talk to my boss about the next step, if there was to be any.

Leya, however, is another ball game. She's a lawyer, as we suspected, and her life is complicated. She needed us for release and we helped her. But I'm not about catch-and-release when I'm fishing. I care about people. I care about my friends. And everyone I let into my bed is a friend. So I can't sit by and watch Leya self-destruct. She's smart, witty, powerful and so amazing, not to mention hot! Handling her requires a different approach than Paola, and I'm glad my girlfriend has decided to pick up that responsibility (even though I'll help). You see, when it comes to relationships, the reason why it works between Claire and myself is that we talk about everything, we share our ideas, hopes, dreams and fantasies - and we sometimes even act on them. But that same truth can apply beyond the two of us, to the people we care for, to the people we wish to help.

And so, we hatched a plan. It's a simple, almost silly plan, but it will work. People are alone. That's why it will work, because people don't want to be alone.

Thirty years ago, people believed that homosexuality was a disease. The thought of two people of the same sex being together was abhorrent to almost everyone. Times have changed. Paola is going through a divorce, but she doesn't have to go at it alone. She needs help dealing with the ramifications of her husband's infidelity. That's why we hooked her up with Leya. Our lawyer friend can definitely help her, and we've seen them together - we've seen them making love. That's why we know it works. They are both at a critical juncture in their lives. They both need purpose and guidance.

So the question remains: how do we bring them together? And the answer is plain as day.

So it's now Wednesday of the following week, and everyone in the office has gone home. I get up from my desk, walk across the hall and enter Paola's office. She's waiting for me there.

"That was a good day, Cassie," she tells me.
"Tell me about it. But now, it's done. TGIW or something."

She laughs as she stares at me from across the desk.

"Did you bring it?"
"I did. It was hard keeping it hidden all day... I so wanted to use it."
"Well... now's the time."

I reach into my purse and pull out the strap-on belt and the dildo and set them down on her desk. She stares at it with anticipation.

"When's the dinner reservation?" she asks me.
"It's at eight, so we have time. Leya doesn't get off until seven."
"All right... why don't you start stripping, then?"
"Very good, mylady."

I comply. I'm wearing very sexy pink undergarments, just for her. She walks around the desk and comes over to kiss me. Her hands slide across my skin. Her touch feels warm. Her fingers caress the crease between my mounds.

"Are you feeling better about it?" I ask her.

Last Friday, she had never been with a woman, let alone three. Today, she feels more confident.

"I am," she replies. "To be honest, I've been watching a little porn."
"How's the issue of custody going with the children?"

Maybe she doesn't want to talk about it, but I care for her, and I care for what happens in her life.

"No news so far. My husband is probably going to fight me for it still..."
"Leya will help. We'll get him."
"I hope so."

I kiss her, then give her a powerful hug. I then help her strip out of her dress, pulling off her underwear at the same time, exposing her pussy. She's shaved it almost fully: there's just a bit of stubble left.

"Do you like?" she asks me.
"I do... do you?"
"It itches..."
"You get used to it."

I help her tie the strap-on belt in place, locking the dildo she will be using on me in place. I retrieve the bottle of lubricant from my purse and I start applying some to the device.

"Do you want to do this?" she asks me.
"Mylady, I have been dying to get that thing up my... well, there... since I put in my purse this morning."
"So that's a yes?"
"That is most assuredly and without hesitation a yes."

And to prove my point, I lean against her desk, presenting my rear end to her. I pull at the cloth of my pink panties and slide it off my sex, exposing my nether lips. I'm already horny and wet, but the lubricant will help, of course.

"All right," she tells me. "If you really want it..."

She's making me beg. She likes it when I beg.

"Oh! I want it bad..." I reply.

She leans in, pressing the tip against my opening gently. I help get my labia open with my fingers and the rod gently pushes in. I moan, holding back the swear words. Before long, Paola is riding me hard, making me cum, and I can't help but think that, just about two weeks ago, it was someone else in the office with her. Perhaps I did all this out of jealousy, to spite him. Or perhaps, more likely, he has nothing to do with it, and I'm just a highly sexual creature who couldn't turn down such an irresistible challenge.

Either way, Paola is pounding me hard, and I know it's not the last time she will do it. For our plan to work, we need to have commitment. And so I promise myself, as Paola pleasures me with energy, that I shall commit to this path, alongside my girlfriend, for as long as it's needed. And I hope it takes a very long time.

====================================

This is the end of this chapter. There's only two more in this entire storyline. I hope everyone is enjoying.

It's all slowly coming together...

[interesting]

Don't give up!!! There's more to come!

[interesting]

Hello everyone,

Since people hardly ever comment (or commented) on this storyline, I was wondering if there was actually an interest for me to continue it.

There are theoretically still two parts to come: one involving Sarah and Jim, and the other bringing the characters of all the sections together. As long as I know one person is interested in reading it, then I'll post it.

Thanks for the feedback.

[bigbeard]

Hi, just to let you know some of us are more than interested in your writing. I have been waiting patiently for the next installment so please don't stop now. This is far to good to not finish it!!!!.

[interesting]

[We are moving ever forward in the story.
- We've witnessed Sarah and Jim (along with their friends, Bonnie and Barry and several others, get rather involved in and around a lodge.
- We saw how Prissy's life turned upside down after an incident of blackmail turns into one of the most sexual activities in her already intense life, and how she hooked up with her new girlfriend Suzy.
- Then, we had a quick stint of Jennifer doing her first porn shoot even as she wrestled with old family issues regarding her step-brother and step-sister.
- Finally, we saw how trying to save her employer Paolo from blackmail lead Cassie and Claire to an awesome new arrangement in their love life.

As all these events unfold and relationships are made and evolve, Jim and Sarah are in for the hardest ride of their short time together. Stay tuned for the drama (and the sex)!]

===============================================

It's been a little over a month since we had our big swinger activity. I must confess, I've been dreaming about it quite a bit. I remember it so vividly. So many pussies I got to fuck. Sarah, of course, but others too. Kim. Wendy. Katarina. Lindsey. Fleurette. I remember their naked forms. I remember how amazing it felt when I came inside them.

Of course, it's kind of hard to forget things like that when you have to apply ointment on your genitals for three weeks after that.

Apparently, one of the partners I was with (either Fleurette or Lindsey) brought something to the party and, because I didn't wear protection, I caught it, and then gave it to Sarah. It's been a few days since my prescription ran out and, luckily, I don't have to renew it. It's all better, but it did raise an interesting point. Sarah and I talked about it, and swore that from now on, however, we felt, we would use protection. Still, despite this small nuisance, it was worth it at the time. The main drawback is that, because we wanted the infection to go away, Sarah and I have been forced to refrain from having sex with each other (or anyone else, for that matter) since then. It's been difficult. We're normally so very active in that department.

I'm back to normal, but the infection is more agressive with Sarah, apparently. She still has a week to go. Applying ointment is a great way to get solitary pleasures. That's about it.

Things have a way of escalating quickly in my life. It all started less than a year ago, to be honest, around Christmas, when Sarah ambushed me after classes were over. It took us a few days to get together but we did, in the most unexpected way.

She played me. She made me believe I was fucking multiple women when I was really fucking only her. That was our first time.

You would think it would have been sufficient. Except... it wasn't. Or perhaps it was, but it didn't take very long before we somehow brought another girl - Jennifer, Sarah's best friend and ex - into the mix. And it seemed like it just escalated from there. Before Sarah, I had enjoyed sex with one girl, Kimmie. My first true love. We were were together for almost a year and we only broke up because she wanted to move to Seattle and I wanted to remain in California. How much I have come since then, pun intended. Sometimes, I can't recall how many women I've had sex with. Just a month ago...

I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I am not the same man that started going out with Sarah less than a year ago. For better or for worse, I am now a highly sexualized, highly active man. In hindsight, thinking back on the events that lead up to where I'm going with this (and I haven't spoiled it yet), it's not that surprising.

Sometimes, you get an itch you can't scratch. In the morning, a guy gets a hard-on, and the memory of that erection sticks with him through the day. You're just looking for that release. Sometimes, you can masturbate and it goes away. Sometimes, you masturbate and it sticks with you. Other times, and those are probably the worst, you can't even masturbate. That Monday was one of those.

I had just completed my first class of the day, and I was in the T.A. lounge, getting something to drink from the vending machine. Monday morning, there's barely anyone in this semester so I'm usually alone. My mind was wandering to my various sexual escapades, memories brought on by that unscratched itch I was speaking about earlier. I heard the door pop open and I looked to see one of my colleagues walking, a lovely dark hispanic young lady by the name of Miranda. She smiled at me, moving past the machines to get some coffee.

A word about her. Last February, in my confused state (it was when things started to go weird with Sarah and Jennifer), I actually propositioned Miranda. She asked, at the time, if I had a girlfriend, to which I had replied that she didn't mind. It had completely turned Miranda off at that time and had left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. I can't see her now and not think of that incident, so it makes me nervous around her.

I therefore gave her a wide berth, though I couldn't help but look at her. Feminine, athletic, a wry smile on her lips, she exuded a confidence which she carried well. She smiled at me so I returned the look.

"So, James," she started, "how are the students treating you?"
"Fine. Yourself."
"Same old."

I recovered my drink from the vending tray and moved towards the couch. I needed to catch up on some reading. I could tell she was staring at me, but it took me a moment to figure out that she was actually staring at my crotch. It was hard from those previous memories, my pants were tight and it clearly showed. As soon as I realized what was happening, I did the awkward shuffle, and it made her laugh.

"Don't hide it," she chided me. "It's kind of flattering."

She was much more playful than I remembered her. It was hard for me to remember who, initially, had come on to the other. I sat down and she moved closer to the couch, staring at my face.

"So, lots of work?"
"Ok."
"I'm loaded. Could really use a break..."
"Uh-huh."

There was barely any innuendo in her voice. I saw her cast a glance towards the door, then back to me. Her head tilted to the side.

"Listen, James..."
"Jim."
"So, Jim... a few months ago, you asked if I was interested in... you know..."
"Yeah...?"
"Well, you told me you had a girlfriend, but that she was ok with it."
"I did."
"Is that still true?"

I paused, starting at her. I couldn't help but notice her curves under her pants and shirt. I had been horny since the morning. In my mind, I began to replay every single sexual encounter I had lived since being with Sarah, and it was somehow frightening -

yet very intoxicating - to revisit these images. It didn't help me get any less hard. Miranda must have sensed my confusion, because she started changing the subject.

"Anyway, it's a big stress to..."
"...yes."

I interrupted her.

"Yes, she's fine with it... as long as I tell her. No secrets. That's the rule."
"Ok."

Her short answer seemed hesitant, but she added a question.

"Do you... need to ask her?"
"...no."

I thought: I don't think so, but I didn't say it. I just looked at her. She continued.

"Ok, so... how do we do this?"
"You want to do it?"
"Well, yeah..."

There was a moment's hesitation on my part now. My eyes wandered to the broom closet door.

"...do you want do it here... I mean now?"
"uh... yeah."
"Ok, but... I... don't have a condom with me."
"Let me guess... no sex without a condom."
"No."

I didn't want to tell her about my little infection that had just cleared. She was turning me on, but I wasn't about to do something too crazy. At least, Sarah deserved that I wear protection.

"What if... I just blow you?"
"uh... ok, but... what about you?"
"I'll be fine. I'll tease myself while I do it."
"...are you sure?"

The conversation was almost surreal. We were talking about having sex here, in the T.A. lounge, where anyone could come in - even if Mondays, generally, no one ever showed up but me and her.

"Yeah..."
"ok... but where?"

Was I trying to get out of it or to coax myself into it? I'm still not certain. A moment later, we were in the broom closet. It wasn't as cramped as we thought. We kissed, and I felt her hand rub over my pants. She eagerly unzipped them and pulled them down, exposing my shaft. She grabbed it with one hand, making me tremble.

"It's been weeks," she murmured, and I didn't inquire.

I started undoing her own pants, but she stopped me. Instead, she unbuttoned her shirt and took it off, revealing her bra-covered chest. She unclasped the hook and exposed herself, her beautiful colored mounds coming into view. She was smiling, and her hand barely left my hardness. She reached for a kleenex in her pants pocket, which she set beside us on the floor.

"Are you ok with this?" she asked again.

I wasn't going to say no. Sarah wouldn't want me to say no. I let her stroke me for a moment, the hot breath of her mouth making me even harder, until finally, her lips neared my cock. She downed it in one gulp, and I was in heaven, her moistness overpowering my defenses. I let her do her magic, wondering how much pleasure she could get from doing this, but perhaps this wasn't about her pleasure. In any case, I was too involved to be concerned with that at the moment.

She pulled away from it, to goad me on.

"You like that?"
"uh yeah..."
"You like for me to suck your cock?"
"Yeah!"

It was like a porn movie, except it was real. She returned her mouth to the task for another minute, making me want more, but I was not going to go further than this, not without protection. She pulled away and started stroking my dick between her breasts.

"You can come when you want..."
"Ok..."

It was more like I would come when I could. And I did, although it took another minute or so to get me to just the right spot so that I couldn't hold it in. All the tension evacuated my body along with the liquid that shot up to her neck. She let me indulge in the sensation before recovering the kleenex and wiping the fluids from her chest where they had dribbled. I pulled away, cleaning my own self, looking down on her. She was smiling, almost laughing.

"That was awesome," I told her, "but it couldn't have been the same for you."
"Oh! I'm good. I got what I wanted today."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah... although I might be up for more next time... if you'd like?"
"I would love to, just..."
"...not without protection, I got it."

She stood up and kissed me fleetingly. The contact made me feel warm inside, almost sweating. She recovered her bra and started putting it on.

"...are you into girls as well?" I asked.

My question seemed to surprise her.

"Why do you ask?"
"Oh... my... girlfriend is... into girls too. Just wondering if..."
"A threesome? Maybe. Never been with a girl. Two boys, but never a couple."

It was hard not to picture these images in my mind, but I tried to look cool about it.

"Do you mind if I ask Sarah?"
"Your girlfriend. No. Is she hot?"
"Very."
"Well... I guess I might... try it."

It wasn't a clear vote in favor of getting together, but it was definitely not a refusal. There was no way I was not telling Sarah about what had just transpired. After all, having a threesome with a fellow T.A. would be mild compared to some of the activities we'd had in the past.

[interesting]

Sometimes, life is hard to figure out. No, let me correct that. Life is hard to figure out most of the time. Or maybe it's just me that gets into complicated situations, but right now, I don't know what to do with what's happening in my life.

I have been extremely lucky in my life, sexually speaking. Multiple partners over the course of many years, friends with some awesome benefits, I'm into boys and girls so double the pleasure... still, with all of this, I had never caught a sex bug. Until now. To be blunt, it's Jim's fault. We're lucky. It's an infection. It's nothing serious, and nothing permanent. Nothing a good application of cream on my genitalia won't cure (and the application itself is not unpleasant). It came from of the girls we were with, either Fleurette or Lindsay, those wannabe-lesbian dancers. Lesbians who love dicks. Jim stuck it deep in their respective cunts and fucked them silly. Even gave the infection to Wendy. And all because he didn't use protection. We said we would. I did. When our host, Leonard, stuck his own dick up in me, he was wearing a rubber. I put it on him myself. And it felt amazing, and I'm sure Leonard enjoyed it as much as the next man, despite the rubber.

So I'm a little mad at Jim right now, for two reasons, the second one being that I can't have sex. I love sex. I crave sex. And because of that infection, I have to refrain from intercourse. Turns out my body takes more time to heal than Jim's... But that's not even the worst thing. I'll get back to that.

It's Friday now, and we have date tonight, with Miranda. It will be my first time having sex again (at least, I hope I don't get more symptoms - I've been symptom-free for a few days now). It will also be the first time I meet her (although Jim has already told me everything I supposedly need to know about her). It will also be the first official time my boyfriend brings someone entirely new in our little ménage. I'm not surprised it's a girl. He was extremely honest about her - how she 'ambushed' him at work, how she offered him services and he took her up on it, and how she seemed to the possibility of being with me as well. I'm nervous to meet this person. I shouldn't be.

Jim is getting ready in the bathroom. I'm already done. I just need to fix my hair, but my mind is elsewhere. At school, where I'm entering my third year of education to become a kindergarten teacher. I really want to make this work, but I can't seem to focus since the beginning of the semester. It doesn't look like I'm going to get good grades. I may even fail if things don't change. There's something off about me, and I can't quite put a finger on it, not yet.

The door to the bathroom is open. I see Jim, in front of the mirror, drying himself. My boyfriend. My eyes wander to his dick, limply hanging between his legs, and I can't help but imagine the girl we're going to meet - whom I have never seen - going down on him, gobbling him up, making him come. He told me she sprayed him across her chest. I want to do more. I walk towards the door, smiling. He turns his head towards me.

"Hey."
"Hello, you..."

There's a tone in my voice which he recognizes. I walk in, walk up to him. He smiles back.

"Now?"
"Well... can't have you going on a date with a loaded gun, can we?"
"I thought the whole point of the date was to unload..."

I give him a gentle slap on the nose, then I reach down and grab it. He doesn'f fight back.

"Let me worry about that," I tell him, dropping to my knees.

I don't often give blowjobs, not necesarily because I don't like them (although they are not my favorite sexual act, partly because I don't benefit from them) but because I generally go more towards the actual full-on intercourse. I like having a dick in my pussy. I guess I'm feeling generous today. Freshly clean, Jim tastes good in my mouth. I look up, see his glazed over look, and I know how much he enjoys this. My pussy is tingling... hopefully, it's not from the infection. No, it's wet. I want him inside me, deep in me, drilling me.

I'm wearing a skirt today, with no panties on. I often do that when I'm expecting pleasure between my legs. I pull my face away from Jim's crotch, and start moving it to the back of the bathroom, towards the toilet. I grab a washcloth, throw it on top of the closed lid so Jim won't sit on the cold porcelain. I set him down, pull up my skirt and face away from him. I try to lower myself onto his shaft, but the angle is wrong.

"Help me," I plead with him.

He does his best to hold it steady and I finally get his tip to touch my labia. It makes me shiver all over. I try to slide down on it, but it slips aside. I reach down between my own legs, trying to grab it, with no avail. I reach back behind me and, this time, I manage to secure it tighter. Finally, I am able to reposition myself and lower my ass onto Jim, while his cock pushes up inside my pussy.

"Aaaaahhhhh!"

About one month since I've had a dick inside me, and it feels amazing. I'm facing away from Jim. His hands reach around my front and he grabs my waist. He's in control now, and I certainly don't mind, as long as he keeps at it. And he does, to the best of his abilities. Inside me, our intercourse is hitting all the notes I've missed. It's not fast, because of our positions, so it gives me time to indulge in the great sensations building inside me.

"...Sarah... wow."
"So good.... right?"
"Uh-yeah."

One of his hands is now caressing my breast over my shirt, making me feel connected.

"Are you coming...?" he asks me.

Not yet. I'm getting there.

"...are you?" I reply.
"I'm okay... you feel so warm inside..."
"I love it when you take me like this..."

The words help get us even more in the mood. I have been craving this. I barely hear the slapping sound of our genitals together. It feels truly wonderful to be taken. That's it. It's going there. I need to tell him.

"Aaah... Jim... fuck... aaahhhh!"

He tries to go all in, tries to come at the same time as me, but that's not how biology works. I'm riding into the excesses while he's still struggling to hit his own mark. I come back down before he's done. I'm terribly satisfied, so I decide I'm going back to my original plan. I place my hands on his knees so he stops, then I pull away from him. His sex plops out of me. I quickly turn around, drop to my knees, burying my face on his crotch, smelling and tasting myself on his shaft as I go for the kill.

"Aaahh! Fuck!" he lets out.

This is the blowjob to end all blowjobs, I tell myself. He's twitching under my care, ready to go. I usually pull away around that time, to let him finish on my hand, on my breasts or in the air. But I don't, and it's so surreal to feel the warm fluid shoot into my mouth, his juices mixed with mine, and milking him for all that remains as I hurriedly swallow, mindful of the taste. Jim is livid, his face a mess of pleasure and desire. He stares down at me, bewildered, satisfied, and I know he can't believe what I just did, even after all this time.

The taste of his mess at the back of my throat suddenly hits me, and makes me want to vomit. Of course, I'm not going to do it on his crotch, so I gag on it, pulling away, leaning over the bath, coughing it out.

"Are you all right?" he asks me.

I don't answer. I don't feel okay. The back of my throat hurts. It will pass, I hope. I just need mouthwash, I tell myself. There'a slimy, almost salty feel in my entire mouth, mostly at the back, and it makes me quiver with disgust. Something about all of this just went south, and I'm not sure what exactly. I'm probably just not used to swallowing. Yeah, that's probably it.

[interesting]

There he is. My boyfriend. Face fucking Miranda, his T.A. colleague from school. It's divine to look at. She's on her back, on the bed, naked except for her long socks, her head tilted back. Jim is supporting himself with his hands on each side of her body, his head over her sex, in a 69 position. I see Jim's shaft pushing in and out of her and it looks amazing. I'm fairly certain he's going to come in her mouth, and I'm fairly certain she's going to let him.

And me? I'm hanging beside the bed, watching it go on, wondering what to do. That's right. Sarah, the all-out fun-loving bisexual nymph is just standing by, watching, waiting, staring at a cock disappearing into a mouth. I'm not even teasing myself as it's happening.

Earlier, around supper, we met up with Miranda. She is breath-taking. Of course, I'm not the best judge for appearance. I love all girls, from the too skinny to the plump, tall and short, and all colors of the skin rainbow (green and purple girls, I would probably like too if they actually existed). I watched them talking for a while, before the question came towards me. Yes, I am studying to become a kindergarten teacher. No, it's fine that Jim experiments with things outside of our relationship, so long as he's honest about it. Yes, I do like her shoes, and where did she get them. Small talk. They talked about courses and bureaucracy and administration, and I wasn't in the loop at all.

Then, she asked the awkward question.

"How does it work?"
"How does what work?" Jim replied.
"She means," and I intervened, "how do we get physical?"

So we talked about that. We explained that we would head back to our place, open beers and sit down in the living room. I suggested we would play a game, and we ended up playing strip blackjack, alternating as dealers. We would trade in our clothes for coins. I was the first to end up naked, although I got to see her pussy before she saw mine (the perks of not wearing underwear, she told us).

Eventually, we left the restaurant to go play that game, but we stopped at a pharmacy first. Jim had forgotten to buy condoms. Given what had transpired during our last romp, it was now mandatory to include one in all our supplemental external encounters. I remained in the car with Miranda while Jim ran in, and we talked a little more.

"What's your game with James?" I asked her.
"I'm just in for fun," she replied. "Don't worry. I'm not about to steal him from you."
"Earlier in the year, he told me you declined his offer."
"Two reasons," she answered. "One, he was creepy about it. And I mean, way creepy. I think you two had just started going out."
"Ok. And two?"
"At the time, honestly, I wasn't interested. I had things happening in my life. Now..."
"It's about his confidence, right?"
"Yeah. Pretty much. He looks so much more... in charge. I like that."
"And that blowjob on Monday?"
"I offered. He didn't say no."

Why would he say no, I told myself. I wouldn't say no to some nice pussy licking from someone I knew, someone I trusted, perhaps even an acquaintance... There was a time when I would have said yes to pretty much anything, when I first started daring. And then, the memory of the swinger party and Turko... it makes me queasy. He was inside me for no more than ten seconds before I had to eject him. It didn't feel right. It was different with our host. He was an amazing lover, despite his age. Or was this about me?

Back at our place, naked after the game, we started making out. I started out lucky. I got Jim to eat me out, then I got Miranda to do the same. Two mouths on my pussy will do it. It all escalated from there. Jim started banging me pretty hard after that while I slid fingers inside Miranda. I didn't come but I was pretty damn close. Miranda erupted on my fingers, then on my mouth. She got on all fours and Jim proceeded to mount her. Then I was on my back while she mounted my face and Jim pumped himself inside my pussy. Again, I didn't come but got damn close. Miranda's fluids covered my face as she squirted all over it. Jim also fucked her on her back before they swapped to their current position.

I counted them. Her orgasms, I mean. So far, she's had four. Three from me (my fingers once, my mouth twice) and one from Jim (while he was riding her last). I've had none. It's potentially an illusion, but it feels like Jim has spent more time with her than with me.

And now, she's ready to collect his seed, and I see the look on his face as his eyes close, as the powerful release hits him and all of him is spent inside her welcoming mouth. Her eyes are closed too, and she milks him until he's spent. Even if I was so inclined to lean it and kiss her, swapping fluids with her, she doesn't give me the chance. She swallows it all, and I'm somewhat left hanging, unsatisfied. Jim rolls over to the side, completely drained. It was one of those times where he just kept going and seemed to never come. Jim and Miranda are in our bed, thoroughly satisfied from their encounter, and I can't even complain about it. Somehow, I don't feel like I should.

"Wow... amazing..." Jim whispers.

I know what he's talking about. That last face-fuck. He never did that to me. He rarely ever came in my mouth, and it was always me driving the action. He got to be forceful with her, not violent, just aggressive enough to fulfill a basic need of dominance. I stare at Miranda's almost naked form (her socks are in the way) and I just want to throw her out. She's done. She's had her fun. She can leave. I don't do that. I try to crawl into bed with them, but it takes a moment for Miranda to scooch over and give me some room. She's between the two of us now.

I bury my head in my pillow. I don't want either of them to see the tears forming in my eyes. I recompose myself. There's something definitely wrong with me.

"That was something..." Jim eventually told me.

It was later that night, and Jim and I were in bed together, resting. Miranda had left about an hour before, thanking us for the wonderful time. I had barely acknowledged her departure. My mind was lost in my own memories. My first sexual experience came back to mind, with Mick and Rick, and Jody. It was odd for me to think that my first experience had been an almost foursome, that I had broken up with my then boyfriend to start hanging out with Jody. I loved her terribly, with passion and violence, the way only teenagers can love. When she left, I was heartbroken. I remembered that wonderful day spent in the park, naked... I remembered the visit to the club, where I had given a blowjob... and then later, after Jody had gone, calling that same guy up for him to fuck me on the hood of his car at makeout point...

"You're awfully quiet," Jim told me.
"Reminiscing."
"About what?"
"Everything."

There have been so many people that I have allowed into my intimacy. Good friends, Jennifer, Bonnie, Claire, Cassie... Barry and Brad, and Tom, to some extent. All friends. It occurred to me that, with very few exceptions, until I met Jim, it was all about my circle of friends and the intimacy I had with them. I had even officially dated two of them, Brad and Jennifer. And then, last year, around the same time, for whatever reason, Jim had caught my eye.

Truthfully, that was when the orgiastic behavior had started. Kamara. Marlene. Claudia. Julie. Suzy. And, even more recently, Kim, Brian, Dwayne, Leonard, Katarina, Lindsey, Fleurette, Wendy... and now, Miranda. In the past year, I have had more new partners than before I met Jim. Numbers don't lie. They meant something. I just couldn't figure out what.

"Can you be more specific?"
"...no. I'm sorry, Jim. I'm really tired."

I was tired. It wasn't really an excuse, except that it was, and I knew it, and Jim knew it, but he said nothing. We slept on it and, by the morning, those reflexions had returned to the quiet place at the back of my mind.

Except that they didn't stay there for very long. That Sunday, I was out grocery shopping, alone, when my eyes spotted a familiar face, and my world shattered in front of my very eyes. I could tell things were going to end badly, but I had no choice on the matter. It was already too late before it even started.

[interesting]

"When is that?" I inquired.
"In two weeks," my supervisor told me. "We need someone to go and frankly, you fit the bill."
"And it's the entire weekend?"
"Yes."

For months now, I had heard about the convention in Seattle. Teachers from across the Western United States getting together for a conference about teaching. It happened every so often. Of course, being a T.A., I wasn't really concerned about it. Mostly tenured professors went. Except that my supervisor had learned a spot had opened up, and was recommending me to go.

"Look, James, you want to get ahead in teaching, it's a good opportunity."
"Okay..."

I didn't have any official plans for that weekend so, coming home to Sarah, I told her. She seemed to take it in stride. She seemed quieter than usual.

"So you're gonna find a way to keep yourself busy while I'm gone?"
"Sure. No problem."

In hindsight, I should have understood the hidden words in that answer, but I was distracted by my own life, so the conversation stopped there.

That Friday, we met up with Barry and Bonnie for a couples night in. We hadn't been able to spend any time with them since the trip last summer. They welcomed us in their home, cooking a delicious supper for the both of us, chatting away as we ate. This being us, conversation quickly shifted to our last encounter.

"That was really a blast," Bonnie started on the topic. "Especially that last romp, with Alexei..."
"True. I've rarely had such an... interesting reaction during play," Barry added.

Neither Sarah nor I say anything. We recalled what we saw, peeking into the rooms.

"To be honest," Bonnie added, "we've had him over once."
"Who knew I enjoyed kissing guys," Barry said nonchalantly.
"I don't think it's guys in general," Bonnie corrected him. "I think it's him. We're all gay for someone..."
"...maybe."

I wish I'd had something insightful to say, but I didn't. I remembered my own romp with Bonnie, how good she felt, how awesome our foursome had been. There's an unspoken intent of a repeat in tonight's activity, and I wasn't the only one thinking it. I recalled Brian and Sarah going at it as well, powerful orgasms all around, pleasure to boot. That entire week (how many days was it again) was insane, with Kim, and Wendy, and Lindsey, and Fleurette... was I forgetting anyone?

"You seem distracted," Bonnie chimed in, focusing me back on the moment.
"School stuff. I have to go to Seattle in a week."
"What for?"
"Convention for teachers."

We kept talking about other stuff. Somehow, the fact that I would be away for two full days (leaving on Friday and coming back late Sunday evening) seemed to bother Sarah, or it didn't, I couldn't really tell. Barry went on about something and I couldn't focus on what he was saying, because my mind was still drifting to somewhere else... Miranda. I still couldn't believe how good her mouth had felt, how amazing it was to unload there, how eager she was to swallow me.

"You look distracted," Barry called me back.
"Yeah. Sorry."
"Still thinking about that awesome week..."
"Yeah."
"Was a dream come true for me. With Sarah, I mean. You still okay with it?"
"Of course. You still okay with me and Bonnie?"
"Absolutely. The look on her face was priceless... everybody got what they wanted."

Speaking of which, Bonnie and Sarah returned to us with a deck of cards. Strip poker it was. The game unfolded as expected (by now, it was almost routine, which I didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing) with everyone getting naked in the process, boobs and pussies, dicks. Last year, around the same time, I would never have been comfortable being naked in a room with another man. I was shy in the men's locker rooms. How much I have grown. I can stare at Barry's hard-on without a second thought. It's not where I was staring, but still...

The ultimate winner turned out to be Bonnie, keeping her large breasts contained in her bra (and nothing else on), so it was decided she would get to call the shots as to what happened next. Given the level of intimacy everyone has shared, there are practically no limits to this game. Sarah excused herself to go to the bathroom. Bonnie lowered her tone as she turned to me.

"What's wrong with her?"
"What do you mean, what's wrong?" I asked.
"You haven't noticed."
"Noticed what?"

Bonnie stared at me with an accusatory glance, which shifted to concern.

"So it's not something you did?"
"Did I do something?"
"I don't know. That's why I'm asking."
"Well, there's this oncoming trip, but..."
"...but what?"
"Well, I don't see how that would upset her."

Or perhaps I did know. Perhaps I did feel a strange gut feeling at that moment, brought on by Bonnie's question. I couldn't figure out what it meant, and Sarah returned, so the idea slipped out of my conscious mind once more. In fact, it seemed to leave the room as soon as Bonnie started taking charge of things. We essentially made her the director of the night's events. Bonnie decided that Sarah and herself would sit facing us, and then she became more daring. It's easy to forget that what got these people all involved together were their teenage daring games. Just because the games have matured and often lead to intense sexual play does not mean the daring has left them altogether.

"I want you guys to kiss..."

I might have been intimidated a year ago, but not anymore. Apparently, Barry was into kissing guys now. Or maybe he was into it because it turned Bonnie on. I was not really sure. I locked lips with him, nothing passionate, though we did trade a little tongue action. Bonnie squealed with glee, but Sarah remained quiet. As Bonnie turned to Sarah, they too exchanged a kiss. Theirs was passionate. They have been kissing for years, so they have it down to a science, and their naked forms embracing turns me on immensely. Of course, they noticed as soon as they step away.

"So, Jim... are you game to let Barry grab your cock?"

It was a dare. It's how these games worked. It's why they work. I gave my approval. Barry didn't seem bothered in the slightest as his hand wrapped around my cock. It was warm and it actually felt good. Bonnie laughed. Again, Sarah remained mostly stoic. My mind wandered for a brief moment to Bonnie's interrogation, but then Bonnie called me out again.

"Can you do the same to Barry?"

Letting him grab me was one thing. Touching him is another. Still, given the level of daring I've come to in the past year, there's no real challenge here. It's only something new, a little strange, oddly arousing. There's no real attraction between Barry and myself, but that doesn't mean the stimulation is any less apparent. He's hard too. Wrapping my hands around a dick other than my own makes me shiver. It almost feels forbidden.

"Wow!" Bonnie exclaims, turning to Sarah. "Isn't that amazing."
"Yeah."

One word. Little visible emotion. Sarah's staring at our respective dicks, her eyes alternating between them. She wants both of them. I can tell from the lust that's slowly creeping across her face.

"All right," Bonnie adds. "This is the real challenge. If you're game, I want you to jerk the other guy."
"Like a dutch rudder," Barry comments.
"Yeah. Like that... only don't come."
"So we have to tell the other guy when we're close?" Barry asks for precision.
"Yeah."

Barry turns to me, not looking straight at my face.

"You game?"
"Yeah... sure."

There's a bit of hesitation in my voice but, as Barry's hand starts stroking me, I moan loudly and return the favor. It's instinct. For whatever reason, his warm hand does feel amazing. Perhaps because he has a dick and he knows how to play with one. I'm not saying Sarah (or other girls) don't know, but a guy knows how a guy reacts intimately. Or it could be the angle at which he's holding me. We're not exactly facing each other, more halfway bent towards the middle, looking at our gorgeous naked partners on the couch in front of us.

"...fuck..." I hear him moan.

I'm wondering if it's a sign for stoppping so I slow down, but he goads on.

"No, man... it's cool. You can... uh... continue."

He laughs somewhat childishly, obviously as surprised as I am with the sensation. The feeling is intense, erotic almost. The girls are staring at us, eyes wide, completely silent and still. A hand is stroking my cock, and my own hands is stroking another. I'm shaking so much it's hard to keep hold. It's my turn to start swearing.

"f...fuck... stop..."

He does, letting go altogether. Over-stimulation does that sometimes. The game, the nudity, the awkwardness... all of it almost coalesced into a powerful release. I stop stroking him too, mindful of my mental state. If we're going to have more fun (and give more to the girls), I need to hold back.

"You liked that?" Sarah suddenly asked me.
"uh... yeah, maybe. I guess."
"You're not sure."
"It was... odd... not uninteresting."

Bonnie laughed.

"Our boys have earned a treat, don't you think?" she asks Sarah.
"I absolutely agree..."

They seem to roll off the couch, crawling their way towards us. No words are exchanged as their respective lips wrap around our cocks, Sarah on me, Bonnie on Barry. More bliss inundates my senses. I close my eyes.

"Do you want to blow in my mouth?" Sarah asks me, pulling away for a moment.
"Uh..."

I can't answer that. It feels too amazing. Sarah's right hands wraps around my sack, gently squeezing it.

"I want you to..." she whispers.

I want it too but, as eager as I was a minute ago, now I'm just riding high. My eyes are closed, so I don't notice the movement around me, but I do feel it when a second mouth starts playing with me down there. I stare and see Sarah and Bonnie trading tongue around my cock. Barry's stare is goading them on. He knows that, when they're done with me, they'll turn to him, and he can wait. The sight of their shared love over my manhood is hypnotic. I feel my balls swelling and my tip beginning to twitch.

"...ugh..."

I'm so close now. Sarah goes down on me, deep, as deep as I've ever seen her go. Bonnie places one hand on her head and pins her there, forcing her to practically gag on my cock.

"Fuck her mouth," Bonnie goads me on.

I comply. It's insanely erotic, and it blows me over the edge, as I empty myself into my girlfriend's warm opening, as she struggles to keep it down, to keep it gagged. She can't keep it up, though, because she backs off, pulls away and starts coughing out spit and semen. It's a hard, dry cough, from deep inside her lungs. I look away from her just as she looks away from me. Bonnie starts caressing her back, making sure she's okay.

It takes a moment for everyone to recover. I'm quite satisfied, so I let things happen. First, Bonnie goes back to work on her boyfriend. Then, recovered, Sarah joins her in the same double play that was given to me. But they don't give him his release. Instead, they get him to use his fingers on them, at the same time. I must admit, my mind is elsewhere, for a moment, back at my place, pumping my length down into Miranda's gullet. Maybe Sarah was trying to do the same (and failed). When I return to the moment, I see that things have switched to another gear. Apparently, Bonnie is riding Sarah with a strap-on. My girlfriend is on all fours, facing sideways, lost in the pleasure being given to her. And Barry is no simple witness; he's actually behind Bonnie, pounding into his own girlfriend, essentially controlling the rhythm driving the three of them. I crawl towards them and start kissing Bonnie. One hand goes to play with her breasts; the other caresses Sarah's buttocks. My body is reacting to the scene in the usual way, so Bonnie's hand wanders to me and starts stroking again.

Barry opens his eyes and notices the play. He slows down, pulling out of his girfriend, giving me his spot. My first instinct is to reach for a condom, but both Barry and Bonnie's eyes tell me it's not necessary. Not between the four of us. So I go in exposed, my dick burying itself deep inside Bonnie who is already so wet from all that prior stimulation. I see Barry move around so he's at the other end, facing Sarah. Her hands reach out to his cock and she starts stroking him. She doesn't dare put him in her mouth - her last experiment probably still bothers her. Bonnie starts chatting away her sensations as I pound inside her.

"oh fuck! Barry. Fuck... He's inside me... fucking me hard... fuck..."
"I see it, honey..."
"And Sarah, she's..."
"You're inside her..."
"She's taking care of you... oh fuck..."

It's all about the wordplay for them. I can't say it leaves me indifferent. Bonnie tilts her head back, whispering to me.

"You need to come inside Sarah..."
"Ok..."

I have to pull out of Bonnie so she can pull out of Sarah and I can take her place. As we're doing that, Barry leaves his position, helping Bonnie get out of the strap-on. He leans her on her back, spreads her legs wide and mounts her. She wraps her legs around him and they resume going at it. Meanwhile, I bury myself inside Sarah and let it ride hard.

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes... oh yes..."

Sarah's into it now, and I'm ready to unload again. I try to make it last, pacing myself, but I only last another minute until my body releases its orgasm and fluids. Luckily, it seems that my timing was good. Sarah's back is arched from the pleasure, and her body quivers with small aftershocks of delight. We remain like this for at least another minute, the time it takes for Bonnie and Barry to finish.

Perhaps the only problem, thinking back on that night, was the fact that, as lovers, Sarah and I worked beautifully. As communicators, however, there were issues that remained unresolved, and that no amount of sex or pleasure could resolve. And with my trip just a week away, there would not be any time to identify and address those issues before things went awry.

[interesting]

Something strange happened on the Friday before I left for the conference in Seattle. Since my plane was leaving in the afternoon (a 3-hour flight in the same time zone), I was excused from all obligations at school. I still went because I had a few things to finish in the morning.

But even before getting up that morning, I was woken by Sarah swallowing my cock. Apparently, she had taken it upon herself to give me a blowjob as a morning surprise. Confused as I was, I certainly didn't object to the treatment, and there was no stopping her. She pumped and sucked me empty, apparently indulging in my offering as she swallowed it all. She didn't even ask for anything in return after that, seemingly content at having pleased me. We talked very little that morning, other than me thanking her for the generous gift. She gave me a quick smile and went about her things, so I did the same.

Later that morning, around ten, I dropped by the T.A. offices, and I crossed path with Miranda. Since our romp at my place, we hadn't really had a chance to talk. Nor did we really get one that morning either, because she grabbed my hand, dragged me to the closet, removed her top, unzipped my pants, pulled out my dick and wrapped her breasts around my cock. Before long, her mouth was wrapped around my tip, and she goaded me into a second release, which she too swallowed. Again, I offered to return the favor, but she declined, claiming that she got off more on pleasing me than the reverse.

The plane ride was long. I kept looking back at the stewardess in her short skirt, imagining her going down on me as the other passengers were resting or sleeping (even though this was a day flight). A few times during the flight, I pictured us in the throes of wild passionate sex, hunched over a chair, in the toilet, in the baggage area... by the time we arrived, I was staring at her in a way that seemed to unsettle her. I was unsettled too. I kept thinking back to that summer lodge, with Kim and Brian, and meeting Dwayne and Wendy, and Lindsey and Fleurette, and it all seemed to get jumbled up with my recent adventures with Bonnie and Miranda, and somewhere in there, Sarah buzzed about. I practically forgot to pick up my luggage, realizing that it was still on the rolling tray as I was exiting the terminal. By the time I got to my hotel room (I was lodged in the same hotel as the convention, for convenience), it was past supper, so I dropped my suitcase, went out for a bite across the street and only returned to my room after eight. I tried to call Sarah but I just got her voicemail.

It was in that hotel room, alone, that I first asked myself what I was doing here. More importantly, I asked myself why I hadn't asked for Sarah to come along. So the school wouldn't pay for the flight for her? I could have paid for it myself. I had never even offered to do so. I had left her completely out of the loop. Then again, she hadn't even asked. I sat on the edge of the bed, pondering that question for a very long time, watching the weather on the television. I didn't even get undressed that night. I slept on top of the covers, in the same clothes I had worn that day. And my sleep was deep, full of quiet, no dreams that I could recall.

Around 6AM on Saturday morning, I stirred to consciousness, dragged myself into the bathroom, stripped, took a shower where I proceeded to unwind. I was in a haze until I went down to the cafeteria for breakfast. The conference opened at 9, and the the first speaker was scheduled for 9:30. There were maybe two hundred or so teachers roaming the halls, so I joined my colleagues, introducing myself, talking about nothing in particular.

It was only after the conference was over that I spotted her. I froze for an instant, then raced up the hall to catch up. She was walking briskly, headed towards the elevator. I caught up as she neared the door.

"Kimmie?" I asked.

She turned around. Long dark skirt, white blouse, auburn short hair, high cheek bones, and her smile. She recognized me instantly.

"...James?"
"How have you been?" I asked her.
"Fine. Fine. Yourself?"
"Good. I'm..."

Seattle. I was in Seattle. The place where she had moved after graduation, when we had parted ways, around four years ago. I stared into her eyes and it was like no time had passed. She gave me a big hug - we almost kissed, out of reflex, but I just grazed her cheek. The door to the elevator opened and we filed in with a few other people.

"So, still teaching," she said.
"Yes. Apparently so are you."
"Wouldn't do any other job!"
"Same... what's going on besides work?"

She looked at me, and I could tell how happy she was to see me. We hadn't parted under any conflict. She wanted to move back home to Seattle to teach, and I wanted to stay in San Francisco. We had agreed to part ways, and we had even kept in touch for six months after that, but life had gotten in the way of our communication. We were still friends on social media, but neither of us updated regularly. I hadn't updated mine for over a year.

"Nothing much. You know me," she answered, "I'm all business."

I laughed. She was never all-business. She was always willing to have some fun. We were together for almost a year. There had been some good times back then. I started to wonder how my life would have been had I decided to follow her to Seattle.

"I need to drop by my room," she told me, "but maybe we could hang out. Go have lunch?"
"Absolutely."

I followed her to the room door, but I stayed in the hall. As she disappeared inside, I checked my phone. For whatever reason, I thought of Sarah, and decided to call her up. We missed each other last night. It rang once before she answered.

"Hi Jim."
"Sarah. Hi. How are you?"
"Okay."

Her voice sounded tired.

"How was your trip?" she asked.
"Uneventful. Missed you last night."
"I was out. Came home late, not a good time to call."
"All right..."
"How is the conference?"
"Fine so far. Actually ran into an old friend."
"Really? Anyone I know?"

Sarah knew about my past relationships, so I simply conveyed the information.

"My former girlfriend, Kimmie..."
"Really?"
"Yeah. She lives in Seattle now, and she's also a teacher."
"That's nice."

There was a long pause.

"I can't talk long," Sarah told me. "But I want you to have fun up there."
"I will. You too."
"Thanks... this girl... Kimmie. Is she pretty?"
"Yes, she is."

There was another pause. I stared at Kimmie's room door.

"Do you want to fuck her?" Sarah asked me.
"What?"
"Well... do you?"

The question was not out of the blue, but it did stun me.

"uh... well.. maybe, uh. I don't... I haven't thought about it."

That was a lie. I had recalled some of our time together, and that included our sex life. I was getting a hard-on.

"Well," Sarah continued, "I want you to do it. If she wants, of course."
"Ok..."
"And don't tell her about me."
"...ok. Why?"
"Because. Not everyone would understand."
"All right."

Hindsight. I should have paid more attention to the words being said, or to the tone behind them. The conversation somewhat ended there, and I waited by Kimmie's door for a minute more before she came out, a new shirt on, two buttons undone, allowing me to almost see her bra and definitely grab some cleavage.

Roughly three hours later, in the afternoon, while we should have been attending the conference, I was in my hotel room, pounding away at Kimmie's sex, ready to burst inside of her, no protection. Her head was buried in the pillow, her ass up being drilled under my weight.

"Kimmie... fuck..."
"oh... James... fuck..."

We had been going at it for about half an hour and, already, I had given her quite the ride. We had spent almost two hours at the restaurant, reminiscing about our past lives. She confirmed that she had not significant other (her last boyfriend after me had dumped her over a year ago); I politely diverted the question because I didn't want to lie to her but, at the same time, I wanted to do what Sarah had asked. By the end of the meal, she was hot for me again, and we ended up making out in the elevator. She had started me up with a wonderful blowjob, and I had proceeded to use my rod to further her own pleasures.

"Sweet fuck... I'm gonna come..."
"I'm on the pill," she blurted out, signalling that it was fine for me to continue on my path, so I did.

She collapsed under my weight as I finished with her; I remained inside her for a long minute after that, content, until I finally pulled out and rolled to the side. She immediately rolled on top of me, my softening manhood resting against her lower stomach, and she kissed me.

"I missed you, Jim."
"...same."

Was my answer sincere? Had I really longed for her? I couldn't say anything more, so I just stared at the window looking outside.

"...what's next?" she asked me.
"I don't know. Do you mean, what's next right now, or what's next for us?"
"Both, maybe. Look, Jim, we just met after four years so... no commitment here but... I liked it. A lot."
"Me too."

That last sentence was sincere. I recalled a time when we had been together, and how efficient our communication had been. I recalled how good it had felt the first time we had kissed, the first time we had made love. I remembered moving in together. I also remembered our parting, and I read in her eyes that she remembered it too.

"I... couldn't go to Seattle."
"I know. And I couldn't stay in San Francisco."
"I know."

Her hand caressed my cheek. The feel of her skin, of her naked breasts on my chest, made me tingle all over.

"But... things are different now, aren't they?"
"Yes. They are."

I said nothing more and neither did she. I thought of Sarah, and then of Miranda, and Jennifer, and Bonnie, and Kim, and Wendy, and... the names dragged on in my mind, and Kimmie's form mingled with theirs, but she seemed to be struggling in the lot, almost like the image of her found it hard to breathe in that company. There was much confusion in my mind at that time, but Kimmie was blissful in our renewed physicality, and she obviously didn't see it, or things would have unfolded differently.

[interesting]

Twice in one day, then once again in the morning. We slept in the same room.

The first time in the afternoon was wild, passionate. The love-making of two people who were very close but lost themselves for several years. The second one, in the evening, after a conference, a dinner and another conference, was more intimate, loving. In the first bout, we changed positions every few minutes. For the second, she was on her back, in her bed, her legs wide, wrapped around me, while I swayed back and forth, reveling in the intimacy. It didn't last nearly as long but it was extremely fulfilling.

I got up before her and headed to the bathroom. When I returned to the room, she was awake, the linen off her naked body, gently stroking her sides. It was tender. We kissed quite a lot; my mouth wandered all over her body, down to between her legs, and I pleasured her with tongue and finger, and she came. She pushed me to my back, gobbled me up for a minute or so and then sat on top of me and rode herself to ecstasy again. Then, she went on all fours (my favorite position) and I ended it inside her once more.

And then...

"...I can't believe it."

I turned to Kim as we both lay naked in the bed, quite content in our affair.

"What, specifically?" I asked.
"All of this... you, me... hooking up after four years..."
"It is nice."
"Unexpected. Nice, yes..."

I looked into her eyes and I saw the same emotion from all those years ago. The love was still there. Distance and absence did not diminish its trace and I must admit to sharing some of the same emotions. In my case, they were conflicted, because when I looked past her, I saw Sarah. And I loved Sarah too. This adventure was just that, an adventure after all, but it did make me feel warm and connected - something which I had not recently felt with Sarah.

"...why didn't we stay in touch?" Kim asked.
"Maybe... maybe because we were afraid it would hurt too much."
"Maybe."

It didn't hurt now, but I sensed it would. This evening, I would be on the plane back to San Francisco, and she would still be here, somewhere in Seattle. Her current home. Part of me wanted to stay here, but I couldn't.

"It's a shame it's just for the weekend," she whispered, perfectly echoing my sentiment. "I could get used to this again..."

She smiled at me, a hint of mischievousness on her lips.

"Of course, I could always visit you down in San Francisco..."

My face instantly betrayed my uncertainty, and I saw hers change as well, from snarkiness to concern.

"What's wrong? Don't you want me to visit you in San Francisco?"
"I... it's complicated."

Few words can have the effect mine did on her. Her smile instantly disappeared, and the reflex to cover herself from me took over. She didn't get off the bed, but she did roll slightly away, her nudity lost to me.

"What's complicated? We had fun, I'd like more... I'm willing to pay for the trip... I'm willing to see if this can take us somewhere... You're not?"
"Well..."
"For fuck's sake, James, we just had sex three times in a row! It was fucking amazing! Don't tell me that doesn't mean something to you!... because it means a hell of a lot to me."

My mind was racing with ideas of what to say, but nothing came to mind. The words just remained stuck somewhere in limbo, outside of my ability to use them. I just stared at her as she ranted on, visibly frustrated by my lack of reaction, even though she was trying to keep things civil.

"...look, James, I'm spilling my guts here. The least you could do is acknowledge me."

I couldn't say it. I couldn't tell her. Yes, I wanted her to come back with me. Yes, I wanted more of her. But the words wouldn't escape my lips. I kept seeing the shadow of Sarah cast against the wall, dominating my will.

"...uh...I'm... uh well... uh.."
"Mumbling? You never mumbled before."

Her hard gaze softened, and she started looking concerned for me.

"What's wrong?"
"It's just... my situation in San Francisco is... I..."
"Is there someone?"

Of course there was, but I couldn't tell her. I didn't need to. Kimmie was always good at reading me. Her face betrayed the comprehension.

"There is... oh my God, no..."

That was when she stepped off the bed, pulling the sheet across her body to keep hiding her nudity, pulling away from me, almost to the window of the hotel.

"Fuck no!"

Her tone was angry, and she turned back to me after looking away for a moment.

"You cheated on her with me..."
"No! No, I didn't!"

Why was it that it was at that moment I decided to speak up? I got up, attempting to follow her, but she stepped away so I didn't press on. She maneuvered around the bed to keep some distance from me. She was clearly stunned by the revelation.

"But there is someone!"
"...yes."
"And you still slept with me?"
"Yes. But..."
"But what?"

Her eyes were ablaze with confusion and anger, and I could scarcely blame her. I felt a similar kind of haze blocking my thoughts, rendering me powerless to argue with her, unable to present my case in a coherent logical way. In hindsight, perhaps it was because none of it was logical, not anymore. She still waited for me to reply this time, and so I told her the truth.

"She... told me to do it."
"What?"
"Sarah... my... girlfriend in San Francisco..."
"I knew it! Sonnuva..."
""...she told me to do it. She told me to sleep with you if I wanted to."

There was a long moment of silence as Kimmie looked away. Her next sentence was only slightly louder than a whisper.

"Who the fuck would ask her boyfriend to do something like this...?"

I knew she didn't believe me. My first instinct was to call Sarah, to get her to corroborate my claim, but that didn't seem like it would change anything. And I was suddenly mad at Sarah, but I couldn't focus on that. Kimmie had all my attention.

"Dammit James! I thought... we were reconnecting, maybe..."

The disappointment was palpable in her voice and it hurt me. I could only imagine how she was feeling.

"We were. We are," I tried to reassure her.
"No we're not! You have a girlfriend in San Francisco and... you wanted a girlfriend in Seattle. Two-timing jerk!"
"I told you she told me to do it!"
"And you have no control over your own dick? You just follow along with what she says - supposing I buy your shit?"
"I..."

What could I say? She was right. I had completely played along with Sarah's suggestion, never once considering the impact this might have on Kimmie, a former love, someone who actually cared about me - perhaps someone I still deeply cared about. And then, I started to wonder if Sarah could have known all along this would happen? But that seemed unlikely. After all, how could she anticipate Kimmie's reactions? She knew her only from my stories of her.

"You need to call her, get your act together. And I... I need to go."

I could sense Kimmie was holding back tears. She had actually started falling back into love with me, allowing the defenses built by the distance to erode, and I had shattered that feeling completely. I was a bastard, I realized. I wandered towards the bed, sitting down on the edge, staring blindly at the wall. I heard the shuffling of clothing as Kimmie started getting dressed.

"I am so sorry, Kim," I said, hoping to sound sincere. "I... I'm a moron."
"Yes you are..."

A long pause slithered in. It took Kimmie's strength to break. The violence in her voice had mostly died down, and there was something else there. Something sincere and kind.

"Listen James... Jim."

She came back towards me, kneeling in front of me. Her bra and panties were back on, and she was holding her pants in her arms. She didn't let me look away, forcing my sight towards her.

"I think... you need help," she told me.
"I think I do..."

I could sense her sympathy for me, but I didn't really want it. I wanted her rage, her anger. It felt much easier to deal with. But I said nothing, also not wanting to aggravate my case. I still cared deeply for her.

"Promise me one thing, Jim."
"Anything."
"Don't... stick with a girl that's just gonna boss you around. You're better than that."

I think it was at that specific moment that I knew, for a fact, what was going to happen as soon as I got back from Seattle. Perhaps Sarah had already known. Perhaps it was why she had acted this way, encouraging me to indulge, pushing me away. I should have said other things to Kimmie, but I was lost in my own private little hell, and she didn't belong there at that time.

[interesting]

"Do you want to fuck her?" I asked Jim on the phone.
"What?"
"Well... do you?"

Obviously, the question left him pondering for a moment. He came up with this answer.

"uh... well.. maybe, uh. I don't... I haven't thought about it."

I knew he was lying. How could he not think about this, given everything that had transpired recently?

"Well," I added, "I want you to do it. If she wants, of course."
"Ok..."
"And don't tell her about me."
"...ok. Why?"
"Because. Not everyone would understand."
"All right."

I hung up after that. We didn't say goodbye. We didn't say I love you. I put the phone away.

"Who was that?" my partner asked.
"That was my boyfriend. Jim."
"From Seattle?"
"Yeah... he wanted to go fuck one of his exes."
"So?"
"So I gave him the go-ahead. I figure if I have the right to do it, so does he."
"And vice versa," she said, caressing my exposed breast.

Many years ago, I fell in love. My first time having sex, my first real love. Her name was Jody, and we had sex the first night we met (a foursome, actually). She was in a relationship with my then boyfriend's brother at the time. I was dating Mick. She was dating Rick. After that first time, I left Mick to his own devices (and she pretty much did the same to Rick) because we started hanging out together, daring each other, pushing the envelope. I was mad for her, but she never meant to stay. In fact, she left for years, going to do volunteer work in Africa. We never once kept in touch. I just wanted to forget her (even though I couldn't, not with the memories we had built together). She pre-dated my attraction to Jennifer, my daring days with the other girls (and few boys). She was my first. She was my one.

Three weeks ago, Jim brought Miranda to our home and we had a threesome. We'd had threesomes (and larger numbers of partners) before, but that encounter left me queasy. I did my best to ignore the feelings of disgust piling deep in my gut, but it always brought me back to last summer, the swinging party, and that blasted male... I can't even recall. He was inside me for less than five seconds, but it was the worst sensation in the world. For the first time in my life, I was with someone I had no interest in. Being fully honest, I've had sex with strangers I never cared about (not often, but it's happened). This man... was different. He was repulsive, not ugly, just a complete turn-off. I wanted nothing to do with him.

Now, thinking back on Miranda, I realize I wanted nothing to do with her either. And she was gorgeous, a body to die for, athletic, sensual, passionate. I had fun and pleasure to boot, but I didn't want it.

And then, she happened. Jody. The weekend after our date with Miranda, I was out strolling the grocery outlet alone, trying to think of anything but sex. I was in the fruit aisle, near the entrance, ready to get underway, when my eyes spotted a familiar movement on my right, only a few meters away. The scene unfolded in slow motion. I turned my head and stared at the back of a woman's head, dark hair, cut short, an exposed neck line. There seemed to be a lingering smell, something I couldn't quite perceive. I stared blankly for a moment, until the head titled sideways, and the features of the profile came into view. That mouth. That chin. That nose.

"..."

Air sifted through my teeth but no sound came out. The head kept turning to face me, not three metres away across the fruit stands. Her eyes, deep as any abyss. She looked past me at first, then at me, and the glow in her face ignited.

"Sarah?"
"Jody!"

I bumped into the stall trying to go through, then started going around left while she darted also left, sending us in opposite directions around the structure. I veered right and she did the same, and I burst out laughing, stopping on the spot. She came around and stopped a few inches from my face, locking her stare with mine.

"Oh my God, Sarah!... you've grown!"
"Six years..." I mumbled.

I was fourteen at the time. She was mature, eighteen or nineteen, I forget. Back then, it was a big deal. Now I'm twenty, so twenty-five or twenty-six doesn't challenge me anymore - not when I consider that Jim is twenty-nine now.

"That much... you look amazing."

I did, but she looked better. She wore a tight form-fitting top, and her chest seemed bigger than I remembered. Her hips were also wider, or perhaps it was my memory that was faulty. Her face was still perfection to me, and I was a teenager again, madly in love with her.

"You look... you look..."

I leaned in gently and kissed her lips, a chaste exchange, nothing intrusive. As I pulled away, smiling shyly, hoping to have done right, I saw her smile.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.
"Don't. It's nice."

Our hands touched and we held them together.

Of course, keeping her return secret from Jim took all of my effort, especially when we went and had that lovely foursome with Barry and Bonnie, but I was adamant that Jody was not someone I was going to share with anyone. In any event, at that time, nothing had happened much, other than hugs and kisses. That day, we did our grocery shopping together, catching up on a few things, but we didn't really talk about her trip to Africa or my daring adventures (of which she knew nothing) after she had left. I did tell her about Jim although, to be candid, I told her things weren't going so great, which was how I felt at the time. When we left the store, we traded numbers. She took mine down in her cell phone but I memorized hers. There was no way Jim was going to ask who Jody was if he ever picked up my cell phone and I had accidentally left it open.

Jim eventually told me about his trip to Seattle. He claimed he didn't want to go, but I felt like he just wanted to get away from me for a while. I encouraged him to go. I had my own plan forming in the back of my mind.

Is it possible to love and hate someone at the same time? I believe so. I have lived it so many times. The first time with Jody, way back when, then with my former boyfriend Brad, then with Jennifer, and now with Jim. I have loved every single one of them, and I still do, but there seems to come a point where love isn't sufficient anymore, where the best sex doesn't cut it.

That Friday in the morning, Jim left for work with a small suitcase. He wasn't coming back until late Sunday evening. I gave him a wonderful blowjob, as a parting gift. I still waited for him to be on his way into the sky before calling Jody up and asking her to come to our apartment. No. His apartment. We had talked about it earlier, so it was already planned. She arrived a little before supper. We were in bed, making love before five. And I came. Lord! I came! So hard! So much! Fingers. Hands. Toys. Tongue. Lips. Rubbing. Tribbing. To me, love is mainly expressed through sex.

Now, I need to be honest here. It wasn't all about sex. In fact, it was mostly about the conversations we had between bouts of intercourse, over the course of that evening. So that morning, when the phone rang, when Jim called, when the unexpected happened, I already knew what to say to him. I already had my way out. Jody simply smiled quietly throughout the conversation, knowing full well what was happening, not interfering, exactly like a friend would.

After that, we made love again.