- I’ve had a wonderful helper who has been reading and correcting all my Daydreams and Distractions. She’s close to half way through and has asked me to finish Innocent Mistake, among the first stories I wrote, and so I have. I’ve completely edited the original portion and have given it the ending which, I think, many readers had hoped for. Enjoy.
“Have you been on the pill long enough?” Sheila asked.
“As of today,” Lisa answered, “we can, any time we want.”
Sheila pushed aside her long brown hair. “We’re always in sync, aren’t we? I stopped a month ago!”
“Are you trying then?”
“Maybe…” Sheila giggled. “We can, you know, any time we want.”
“I hope Paul isn’t anything like Larry,” she grinned. “ Larry won’t stop pawing me. All he does is talk about sex.”
“Maybe we should have a party tonight, you know? – a little orgy?”
“Oh God, you know I’m not like that, Sheila. I’m not like you and Paul. I could never do the things you do.”
Two men walked into the hotel lobby. They shook the snow from their parkas. Paul looked glum. He rubbed the snow out of his short blond hair. “The road’s closed,” he said. “They’re not letting anybody through. We have to stay here or head back.”
“Do they have a room?” Larry shook the snow from his glasses.
“One,” Sheila answered.
“Ah,” both men answered.
“Twin beds,” Lisa added, “and we have to decide now.”
Larry and Paul glanced at each other. They shrugged. “Why not?”
Paul and Sheila had gone to park the car. With key in hand, Lisa went straight to their room and to the bathroom. Larry lingered in the doorway and sighed
“You can stand to go another night.” Lisa stood, lowered her skirt and pulled up her tights. She leaned against the bathroom counter, fixed her makeup with a finger’s tip. Larry moved behind her and pushed his crotch against her ass.
“I don’t want to go another night.” He licked her ear. “I want my cock in your pussy, baby.”
Lisa stared at Larry’s reflection, bit her lip, grinned and put her hands against the mirror. “Quick!”
Larry pulled her tights down, lifted her skirt.
A key-card slipped into the hotel room door. “Fuck!” Larry stiffly zipped and Lisa pushed down her skirt.
Paul and Sheila carried their backpacks into the room. “”Get some drinks?” asked Paul.
“We’ll be right back.”
The door closed. Paul shook his head. “Figures, doesn’t it?”
Sheila bent over the backpacks, getting lighter clothes. “What’s that?”
Paul grabbed her waist. “Christ, when you bend over like that.” He pushed his hardening cock against her ass. “You know exactly what you do.”
“I have no idea,” Sheila straightened and leaned against him.
He cupped her breasts, pinched her nipples through her top. “Tonight, baby,” he growled. “Tonight.”
“In front of Larry and Lisa?”
“Fuck that!” Paul bent her over the foot of the bed, hands on the mattress, knees against the edge.
“Now?” She was nervous. He yanked down her pants, exposing her pussy. “Wait till tonight!” Then one well-placed thrust made her accommodate. She groaned, then yanked up her pants. The bedroom door opened.
“Hello?” It was Lisa. “We found the bar. Larry is— Are you okay? Did I interrupt something?”
All Sheila could feel was the emptiness between her legs. “No,” she volunteered. “Just changing.”
The three met Larry at the bar. With nothing to do and nowhere to go, they kept an open tab. They played pool and talked. The more they drank, the more they flirted. Larry lifted the back of Lisa’s skirt. His fingers curled down and under. She exhaled, arched, and her ankles parted.
Then it was Larry’s turn at the table. His fingers wet to their knuckles. Lisa followed and her hips moved languorously. She bent over. Her skirt rode up the backs of her thighs and Larry took a long swig of beer.
He knew what he wanted.
Maybe Paul and Sheila would see them go together. He didn’t care. He meant to follow her to the bathroom a few minutes later. She could wait to pee. But Lisa tugged at Sheila on the way and Larry went to the bar instead.
The couple had a last game.
They stumbled drunkenly back to their rooms. Lisa threw up. Sheila cleaned the bathroom. Larry was already asleep when Sheila finally lay down. Paul spooned but Sheila pushed him away. “No,” she whispered. “Not tonight.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Then masturbate,” she answered, falling asleep.
But Sheila didn’t stay asleep. There was no light in the room, not even the bedside clock. Power must have gone out. She stood slowly and the room spun. She made her way blindly to the bathroom, stepping over clothes and backpacks. She heard Paul get up and follow her.
‘Me first!’ she thought to herself and she sat on the toilet.
A hand felt for her shoulder, then cupped the nape of her neck. “Just a min—” she started say before the head of a cock parted her lips.
The heavy width slid into her mouth until it pressed at the back of her throat. If he could have seen her: eyes wide, surprised, lips stretched. Then his fingers tightened in her hair and he slid in and out of her mouth.
She pushed at this thighs but he rolled her nipple with his other hand. She grunted and twisted on the toilet.
Her pussy pulsed.
She clasped the hand in her hair, but his cock didn’t stop. He sharply tugged her nipple and her bladder let go. Just as she groaned with relief and panic, his thick cum flowed into her mouth. She twisted. She peed. She swallowed. And then, finally, he pulled the slick cock from her mouth.
Was it being off the pill? Was this the woman he wanted her to be? — she wanted to be? He put a finger to her lips and pulled her from the toilet. Her pussy melted. He tugged her out of the bathroom and she tried not to make any noise. The room was pitch black. She prayed that Larry and Lisa wouldn’t wake. Paul tugged at something in the room’s darkness.
She wished she wasn’t so drunk.
He moved behind her and pushed her feet apart. She felt back of the room’s desk chair against her stomach. She knew what was expected. She bent over. She had imagined an afternoon of lovemaking, but there was something animal and feral about the way he mounted her. She stifled a gasp as she was filled with one hard thrust. Their friends were almost within reach!
Paul’s thrusts weren’t quick, but deep. Go ahead! — she thought to herself. She bit her hand. She gripped the chair with the other. His thrusts slapped her ass. The pang of an orgasm was stirring in her thighs.
She heard a gasp.
She heard it again. It was Lisa! She reached behind her but Paul pushed her back down. Drunk or not, she was embarrassed. Her excitement almost sputtered before she heard Lisa’s quiet moan and rhythmic panting. Lisa was being fucked!
Were they spooning? Was she being fucked from behind? Sheila grunted. She was going to come! Paul moved her from the chair to the edge of a bed. Sheila put out her hand and touched Lisa’s. She meant to pull it back but Lisa held on to her. Then Lisa’s fingers moved up Sheila’s arm and up until they found her lips.
She couldn’t stop the unraveling knot in her hips.
The women kissed, their lips pressed together by their lovers’ thrusts. “I’m coming,” Lisa whispered in a long drone as Sheila convulsed with her own orgasm. They came together and licked each others shoulder as each of their bellies were filled with come. “He’s making me pregnant,” Sheila whispered and her thighs fluttered with another orgasm.
The sunlight seared Sheila’s eyes. Her head and nipples ached. Her mouth was dry. She glanced at the other bed, almost too embarrassed to look. Lisa was still asleep. She turned to kiss Paul and swallowed a sharp cry. It was Larry! Her stomach turned and as quietly as she could, she backed off the bed.
She glanced to see if Lisa still slept before hurrying to the bathroom.
Her pussy was soaked – Larry’s cum!
She almost screamed when Lisa shuffled into the bathroom behind her, thighs as damp and streaked as her own. They stared at each other.
Lisa wanted to say something.
Sheila lowered her eyes and quickly sat on the toilet.
“I’m so sorry!” Lisa whispered.
Sheila didn’t answer. Pee and sperm dripped out of her. She was angry at her own stupidity. She was angry at Lisa. She was angry at Larry. She had sucked him and swallowed his cum. She was full of another man’s orgasm and felt helpless. Was she pregnant? She spun around and threw up in the toilet.
“O my God!” Lisa whispered.
Sheila pushed Lisa’s hands away, still bent over the toilet.
“O my God—”
Morning sickness? Lisa moved behind her and turned on the shower. She helped Sheila to stand and guided her. Sheila slipped. Lisa caught her.
“I had no idea—”
“Please,” Lisa placed her hand Sheila’s arm. “I didn’t know.”
“And I did?”
“No! That’s not what I meant.”
“I’m the swinger,” Sheila shook. “Yeah, my husband’s the wife swapper. I got what was coming to me.”
“No, no, no,” Lisa begged. “I just— I thought it was Larry, you know?—when we were having sex.”
Sheila turned on her, glaring and trying not to sob. “What if I’m pregnant? I can’t— I don’t believe in— I can’t have an abortion.”
“It’s just a pill, Lisa. We’ll go to the drugstore just in case.”
“What will I tell Paul?”
Lisa bit her lip. “Maybe he doesn’t need to know. Maybe neither of them need to know.”
Sheila disappeared into the cascading water. Lisa leaned against the counter top, pushing her hands through her hair. She desperately wanted to turn back the clock. When Sheila finally finished, stopping the water, Lisa blurted: “Are you going to tell him?”
Sheila paused. “I don’t know.”
“Tell me first, please. If you do. Before you do.”
“Okay,” Sheila answered quietly. “And you?”
“I don’t know.”
Sheila glanced at the ceiling, nodded and hurried out the door.
Lisa restarted the shower. She stepped over the lip of the tub and Paul’s come dripped out of her. Larry was supposed to have been the first, but even so the warm and sticky reminder aroused her. This is what it was supposed to be like.
It was Larry. Lisa forced herself to smile. Larry was gazing at her as he peed. His cock was hardening. A moment later he took off his shirt and stepped into the shower. She bit her lip. This was the man who might have impregnated her best friend. He seemed all the more masculine and all the more worth having.
She should have pushed him away.
Instead, when he stepped behind her, she leaned back and arched. He slipped easily inside, gliding on Paul’s cum. His full length smoothly lifted her to her toes. Yes, she wanted his cum now.
Larry didn’t waste time.
His strokes were silken. Lisa kept her eyes closed, head back, allowing the warm water to cascade over her abdomen before another warmth spurted inside her. She felt beautiful and feminine. The sensation of liquid warmth surrounding and flooding her brought on her own orgasm.
“My God,” Larry whispered. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
“Did you—” she hesitated. “Did you like what happened last night?”
“I loved it.”
“I mean—” she said nervously. “Doing it with them?”
He softly bit her shoulder.
“Really?” she asked.
“Didn’t it turn you on?”
“Yes—” she answered with a breathy relief and pressed against the cock still inside her.
“You thought I wouldn’t like it?”
“I didn’t know. I mean, I thought I wouldn’t like it.”
Lisa and Larry left Sheila and Paul alone.
They went to find breakfast. Sheila was dressed in tights, a skirt, short sleeves over a long sleeved top. Paul was still in bed, flannels on, and gently squeezing the tip of his cock under the sheets. “Still want to wait until tonight?”
“Lisa and Larry are coming back,” Sheila answered without turning. “They’re bringing breakfast.”
“Since when has a little exhibitionism bothered you?”
“I just showered.”
“I’ll make sure it goes cleanly inside.”
Sheila laughed, despite herself. “Jesus, Paul.”
“Let’s put something in that hard little belly of yours.”
“Paul—” but she stopped herself. Why not? She had other reasons to throw up besides being pregnant.
Paul threw off the bed sheets and drew back the soft skin of his cock.
Sheila licked her lips. She ran her hands over her hips before abruptly pushing down her tights. She climbed onto the bed. She straddling him. She aimed his cock and lowered herself. She groaned. “Fuck me!” His cock pushed against her cervix. “Fuck me, Paul. Fuck me.”
He pinched her nipples under the fabric of her top. She ground against him.
He was quick to feel his come rising, drawn out by her ceaseless motion.
“Do it, Paul! Do it.”
The door to the bedroom opened with the smell of eggs and bacon. Sheila didn’t stop. Larry quietly closed the door and Lisa sat beside them, leaning and kissing Sheila just as Paul gripped Sheila’s hips. His hips rose from the bed and he held his orgasm inside her.
“Are you coming too.” Lisa asked, whispering.
Sheila leaned back and shuddered.
Both men wondered if there was more going on than they knew. The women held each other tightly and with more than just the drowsiness of orgasm. Whatever the secret, Larry and Paul wanted more.
The next day the roads were cleared. They had lost a night at the time-share but they wasted no time taking to the slopes. The skied together and apart, and when they were apart and riding the chairlift, Larry brought up the morning.
“That was pretty hot.”
“I don’t know—” Lisa gazed straight ahead. “It just— It wasn’t like a sexual thing.”
“No, I mean—”
“They were fucking.’
“It was— I don’t know, Larry. It wasn’t about the sex.”
“Okay,” Larry answered, dubiously. “Is there something else going on?”
Larry didn’t respond at first. “I just meant: if you ever wanted to, you know, do something all together with Sheila and Paul, sort of like last night—”
“Oh yeah, sure,” Lisa blurted sarcastically.
“So—” He hesitated. “What?”
“No,” Lisa exhaled. “I just meant— Not drunk. Okay? Not drunk off our asses.”
“Yeah. Okay. Not drunk.”
Both were momentarily silent.
“So you’re okay with— maybe—”
“I don’t now,” she answered flatly.
The couples returned to the time share at nightfall. A warm day had turned the snow to a soaking slush. Paul lit the small wood stove. Larry volunteered to buy more wood at the lodge. Sheila sprawled on a couch, removing ski boots and lifting her blistered feet onto the coffee table. “Just turn up the thermostat,” she grunted.
“What? And miss out on a wood stove?” said Larry.
Sheila closed her eyes and blissfully lifted her feet on the coffee table. “I’m not budging.”
“You’re getting the couch wet,” Lisa tugged Shiela back to her feet, picking up her bag on the way to the bedroom.
“We’re having a good time,” said Lisa once the door was shut.
“I don’t know.”
“No,” Lisa spread dry clothes on the foot of the bed. “Nothing crazy. We’re just going to relax. We’ve got a pregnancy test and if you can’t wait—we’ve got morning-after pills.”
“What if I am?” Sheila tossed her wet clothes on the dresser and collapsed on the bed. “How do I know who’s it is? What if it’s Paul’s? What if I take the pill and it was Paul’s?” She exhaled. “I never should have made love to Paul.”
“Maybe you’re not.”
“I can’t believe I just said that.”
“Maybe you’re not pregnant.”
“This is going to be the longest week of my life.”
“So, what do you want to do?” Lisa sat next to her.
“Be scared? A nervous wreck? Tell Paul? Be scared?”
Lisa flopped beside her. They gazed at the skylight. “Maybe we should deal with this.”
“All four of us, locked up in a cabin for a week. One car. No escape. What could possibly go wrong?”
“What if it were Paul’s?”
Sheila half laughed and shook her head. “We’re so screwed.”
“No, but really.”
“Okay. What if it were. And what about you?”
“I don’t know.”
“What if he wants to be the father? Then what? A week with me? A week with him? And what when you have your own children?”
“You can forget about that.”
“About me and children. I don’t want children. Not having children. Visit children? Great. My own? No.”
“What about Larry?”
“Yeah,” Lisa spoke thoughtfully. “I think he’d be okay with having children. When we married we both said, no. We had the discussion; but Larry sees other families and I know. He thinks about it. He’s not going to change his mind but he thinks about what it would be like. And Paul?”
“Paul?” Sheila sighs. “The truth? We’ve been trying for a year. Sometimes I almost think Paul’s relieved. It’s not like either one of us are financially stable.”
“I thought you guys just started!”
“I know. I lied. Paul didn’t want it to be a topic of conversation.”
“I don’t think that’s true. I know Paul. I think he wants a child, and with you.”
“What am I going to do?”
“Maybe you’re not pregnant.”
“I know. We’ve been trying for a year. Why now? It’s a feeling. I felt awful this morning.”
“So did I.”
“I thew up.”
“I wanted to.”
“I now. I just know.”
“Intuition? Seriously? You’re going there?”
“I’m going there. And God as my witness, if I get out of this, I’m so done drinking.”
“That’s crazy talk.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“So,” Paul leaned back. “No beer? No wine? No sangria? What gives?”
Half a loaf of roast ham remained on the table, scalloped sweet potato sacks, and a roasted baby beet salad. The table was a dishevelment of ingredients, napkins, silverware, scraped plates and wine glasses topped with mineral water and a lemon wedge. Lisa and Sheila sat next to each other. Lisa briefly squeezed Sheila’s hand, but waited for Sheila to answer.
“You know last night?”
“Yeah,” Paul smiled and glanced at Larry.
Sheila bit her lip and momentarily looked away, looked at the floor, looked at the ceiling.
Paul straightened. “What?”
“You—” Sheila laughed despite herself and glanced at Lisa, “How do I say this?”
Lisa took her hand again and spoke. “Paul, you had sex with me, not Sheila. We were drunk off our asses. We were horny as fuck. The power was off and we made a mistake.”
Both Paul and Larry laughed nervously, glancing at each other, then the women. Paul formed words that didn’t come and finally said: “You’re serious.”
Sheila nodded, wiping at tears.
“Well,” said Larry, “I mean. How do you know?”
“We know,” Sheila blurted. “We know.”
“Okay,” said Larry. “I mean, but when did you know?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake—” Lisa glared. “What the fuck does that mean, Larry?”
“I don’t know,” said Larry defensively, glancing at Paul, “am I—are we—supposed to be upset? I mean, I guess, okay.”
“It was a mistake,” she added firmly. “An innocent mistake.”
“I just meant, even if it wasn’t. Maybe it’s okay. I’m okay with it. I am. Paul?”
“It’s okay, babe,” Paul managed a nervous smile. “Didn’t we think something like this was gonna’ happen? Not like that—but you know what I mean. How long have we been friends, babe? We’ve known each other—”
“Paul!” Sheila glared with an expression of disbelief. She waited for the realization. None came. “Pregnant. I might be pregnant. What. If. I’m. Pregnant?”
Sheila stared, waiting.
“Oh.” he said again, and then a long, “Oh—”
Larry knocked over the water he’d reached for. He scrambled to blot the spill with a napkin and clumsily straightened the glass.
They had been lying on the floor since dinner. They were in the living room. The food was cold. The sparkling water was flat. But they were in each other’s arms and now they gazed at the living room skylight, half snow and half the dark of another storm.
“So,” said Paul, “seriously? No more drinking?”
“I know I’m supposed to say congratulations,” said Larry. “But who am I congratulating, me?”
Sheila laid the crook of her arm over her eyes and exhaled. “There’s never gong to be a day I look back at this and laugh.”
“Hey.” Lisa rolled onto one elbow and traced a finger’s tip over Sheila’s arm. “We’re all in this together.”
“The fire’s going out.”
Paul sat up, stoked the little woodstove, then leaned over Sheila. He kissed her elbow. He kissed the back of her hand and she slowly lower her arm. He kissed her eyebrows, her cheeks and then her lips.
Lisa held Sheila’s other hand and Larry watched.
Sheila threw up the next morning.
Lisa shooed Paul and Larry out the door, stoked the fire, put on the softest socks she could find, put on a pot of water for tea and sat with Sheila on the couch.
“So,” she said, “I found some old National Geographics.”
“I want Oprah,” Sheila said miserably.
“No. Seriously. Oprah’s good..”
“I’m not getting Oprah.”
“I need Oprah.”
“Look,” Lisa held up the magazine. “Haven’t you always wanted to go to the Amazon?”
“Okay, here’s an article on the Wari Tribe. They live in Rondônia. They— oh—”
“I’m going to get Oprah.”
“No. Wait. What? I want to know. Give it to me.”
“Read it then.”
Lisa stood. “The water’s boiling.”
Sheila wrapped her ankles around Lisa’s leg. “Tell me. I’m not letting you go till you tell me.”
Sheila let go. Lisa went to the kitchen. “What’s that?” Sheila called after her.
Lisa returned with two steaming cups of tea. “Guess what. There was cream in the fridge and honey in the cabinet.”
“What’s particle paternity?”
“Partable. Fine. Partable.”
“Oh for God’s sake!”
“I want to know. I take it all back. I love National Geographic.”
“Alright. Hold on.” Lisa scans the article, then perfunctorily lowers the magazine. “The Wari Tribe. It’s about the Wari tribe and how they believe that a child can have more than one father.”
“So, it’s about women having multiple partners.” Lisa reads. “In the Wari tribe, if a mother has sexual relations with multiple men, the tribe believes that each man is, in part, the child’s biological father. A children with multiple fathers is not only socially acceptable, but each father may contribute to a child’s upbringing and welfare. A Bari tribe, a child with multiple fathers is 16% more likely than a single-fathered child to survive to the age of 15. Among some Amazonian tribes, a husband’s jealousy of a wife’s extramarital partner is considered bad manners. Women who choose not to have multiple sexual partners may be considered strange.”
“Let me see that.”
“Oh, and look. It says: In ancient Hawaii, partible paternity was called poʻolua. Wasn’t your grandmother Hawaiian?”
“Give me.” Sheila quietly reads, quickly turning from one page to the next. “The women are so beautiful! And listen to this,” she finally says. “In the west, the scientific evidence for singular paternity is only a little over a century old. Only in 1870 did Gregor Mendel obtain experimental evidence that a single pollen grain introduced into an ovule could produce a fully developed seed. Prior to the end of the 19th century, the premise that a child had a single biological father rested solely on folk belief.” Then she paused. “Jesus. What’s that tell you about monogamy?”
Their second night’s dinner was over. There was a touch of wine in their glasses and a fire glowed warmly in the wood stove. They sat on the floor, backs to the couch, this time with pillows and a shared blanket. Sheila snuggled until she lay on her back.
“What is?” asked Paul.
“If I’m pregnant.”
“Is it okay with you,” she quickly asked.
“Yeah. Of course! Baby. Fuck yes!”
Shiela twirled her hair round her fingers and gazed at the flickering fire.
“Whoa!” Paul flipped through the National Geographic. “Have you read this article?”
“Yes,” said both women.
“In these cultures,” said Paul, reading, “if the mother had sexual relations with multiple men, people believed that each of the men was, in part, the child’s biological father. Sexual promiscuity is considered normal and acceptable—”
“What I’m saying,” interrupted Sheila, “is that even I’m not pregnant. It’s okay. I want to be pregnant. And what I’m saying is: I love you all. It doesn’t matter. It’s okay.” She turned just enough to push the magazine out of Paul’s hands. She tugged at the shoulder of his shirt until their lips met. She tugged Lisa’s arm until Lisa was close enough too.
Sheila exchanged kisses, then pushed her jammy bottoms down and over her hips.
Lisa moved down, kissing her breasts, belly, then pulled the jammies over Sheila’s feet. Larry watched until Sheila tugged at him too. All three touched, kissed and embraced Shiela. Paul, above her, unbuckled his pants. Lisa pulled them off.
Sheila lifted her knees and opened her thighs. Paul’s floated above her, suspended for just a moment, then Sheila’s eyes rolled and her back arched. Paul’s thrust were firm. Lisa stroked Sheila’s hair and Larry leaned on an elbow holding her hand.
Paul’s thrusts quickened and Shiela’s silent exhalations became cries.
When the pulsing convulsions shook Paul, when he held himself hard inside Sheila, Lisa leaned over him on her knees, holding him, licking his neck and back. She rode his muscular contractions until they ended with a hoarse groan.
Then, as she gently pushed Paul away, Shiela pulled Larry toward her.
Lisa tugged him too, kissing him and almost hurrying as pulled his flannels over his hips. His cock sprung upright and filled her mouth. Even as Sheila continued to pull Larry over her, Lisa sucked him.
Sheila once more lifted her knees and opened her thighs. She thrust her fingers through Lisa’s hair and her mouth parted. She guided Lisa’s mouth. Larry cried out and his muscles clenched. Lisa released him, licking her lips. She had tasted him. He was ready. Now she quickly moved behind him, pressing her tits against his back, hips against his, holding his cock and aiming.
Sheila groaned once more.
Her feet straightened and her fingers spread and dug into Larry’s back. He was larger than Paul.
Now she grunted with each thrust. Lisa’s hips thrust with Larry’s, as if her motion guided his. She was sweating. So was he. Paul was behind them both. He held Lisa by the hair with one hand and plunged his fingers in and out of her pussy with the other.
“Please!” Sheila cried.
When Larry thrust his orgasm into hers, when her nipples burst, when he spread her with the breadth of his hips and she curled her feet into tight spasms, she uttered a fluttering ‘Yes,’ and ‘Yes,’ again and “Yes, both of you—Yes!’
“Hey,” Sheila lightly shook Lisa. They had all fallen asleep in the same bed.
Lisa groggily answered with a moan.
“I just wanted—“ Sheila whispered. “I just wanted to make sure— I don’t know. It’s all a little scary, you know?”
“Come here,” Lisa tugged Sheila into an embrace.
“I mean, it’s all kind of crazy, especially for you, isn’t it?”
“Know what you need?”
“A subscription. National Geographic. I’m subscribing you.”
“I’m being serious.”
“Can I tell you a fantasy?” Sheila asked, her whispers a little bolder.
“That someday I’ll share everything I love in life with my two best friends—everything.”
‘Just a few secrets.”
“Well, how about this: Its the middle of the night. And something really special happens, someday we all live in the same house and sleep in the same bed. I’m so excited that I wake my best friend up, who I love very much. I’m whispering so close that I kiss her, and then I feel another lovers hand on my hip. And then—is it my lover’s cock? And then, just before I kiss you again, I remember it doesn’t—” She inhales and holds tightly to Lisa. “—matter.”
William Crimson | September 15 2016