by Troy Storm
Lucy caught her breath. “Oh, no. This isn’t…you haven’t decided?…I mean, we’ve hardly had a chance to…”
“You two dames will be the death of me,” Matt bellowed. “Please sit down, clothed or not. I’ve got something to say.”
“There’s no reason to yell at her,” Dorothy snapped, sitting up and adjusting her hips in Matt’s lap, while stretching her legs to either side. “There. That’s better. Lucy, dear one, since I’m not about to leave my current position until forced, take off your clothes and join us while we learn our fate.”
Hesitantly, demurely turning her back, the young woman slipped out of her business suit. She peeked over her shoulders.
“Stop watching. You’re embarrassing me.”
Suddenly they all erupted in laughter at the absurdity of the situation as the naked Lucy settled onto the sofa.
“Okay, Dot, up and off,” Matt commanded. “Nobody gets a free ride here. We’re in this thing together, and unfortunately I haven’t figured out how to do you both at the same time. Yet.”
Glumly, she crawled off him and plopped herself on one side with Lucy on the other.
“Oh, my.” Lucy smiled broadly at the rampant upright revealed erection.
“Yeah, oh…yours.” Dorothy was near tears again. She grabbed his bobbing manhood as Lucy instinctively reached out also.
Matt grabbed the women and pulled them close. “No. No more yours…mine…hers…his. I want this to be…us, from now on. Okay? Do you think we can pull it off? Do you think…? What do you think?”
All the arguments and propositions, suggestions and wheedling, all went out of his head. He had two of the most beautiful and beloved creatures in the world on either side of him, both holding possessively onto his dick. What more could a man ask?
He had just asked it.
“You mean like…the three of us?” Lucy asked.
“That’s what you were asking me?” Dorothy added.
“He asked you first?”
“No! No more of that. No first, second, third, any of that crap. We’re in this together. Uh…I mean, that’s what I want…would like. I could never choose between you. You’re both…perfect. Nobody’s second best. I want to keep you both. We’re all right…for each other.”
Lucy began to sniffle. Dorothy took a deep breath, quivering.
Around Matt’s dick, their fingers intertwined.
Matt beamed. “Then we’ll give it a try?”
“Ye—ah.” Dorothy eyed Lucy. “One for all and all for one. Right, Lucy?”
Lucy squealed. They both crawled onto Matt.
“You want his dick?” Dorothy magnanimously offered. “I’ve had it all afternoon.”
Squealing with delight, a wet and ready Lucy clambered onto Matt, tantalizingly rubbing her primed pussy over his upright organ as she straddled his hips.
“Okay, Matt,” Dorothy announced, joining them on the sofa. “I’m gonna sit on your face. And you know what to do with that. While Lucy sits on your dick and we lip lock.”
Matt slid prone under their weight. He felt Lucy’s tight sheath slide over him settling her pubis against his, accompanied by a fulfilling squeak of delight. Dorothy’s inner thigh arced across his vision as her crotch nestled against his mouth and nose. He could feel the women’s upper bodies adjusting for the lip lock.
His mouth opened to encompass the moist velvet lips as the velvet lips around his dick tightened. He was a very happy man.
Until…
Chapter Nine
“Matt, get in here!”
Leo swung the door of his barbershop wide and reached out to grab Bartholomew as he approached. Pulling the startled man inside, where waiting customers were watching with interest, the proprietor hustled him toward one of the barber chairs, already occupied by a patron with a hot towel over his face. Unwinding the damp terry cloth, Leo yanked the young man out of the chair.
“Jerry, I’ll get to you later. Now skedaddle, go getcha self a couple of coffees at Mable’s up the street and come back in about half hour. Matt, get in the chair.”
As the other men watched the annoyed Jerry launch himself out the front door, Leo swirled the damp towel over the seated Matt’s face. “Don’t you say a word now. Just listen. This is a good one.” He chuckled, beside himself, containing his glee. “An’ the rest of you keep quiet.”
His sight suddenly cut off under the steaming towel, Matt wondered what the hell was going on. Leo had called him at the auto shop and told him to hustle his ass over.
“There’s plenty coming down about you and the way you’re carrying on”, he had urgently whispered over the phone, “and I want you to hear it from one of the horse’s ass’s mouths.”
“Hey, there, Marcus,” Matt heard Leo speak up loudly. “What’d’ja think about what my young colleague has got going back there?”
Marcus Danbury must have come out of Clay’s massage room in back. “Thanks for taking a look, Mr. Danbury,” the young masseur said. “Would any of you other gentlemen like the ten-cent tour? I’ll pay you the ten cents, that is,” he chuckled, obligingly.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Matt heard a deep male voice say. It could have been Sullivan or Mankewitz, he hadn’t had a good look at the other guys before Leo slapped the towel over his face. “Heard you’ve got a right nice business going on back there, young man. Nice to get a chance to see what all the fuss is about.” It was Mankewitz. The door to the back room closed.
He heard the snickering proprietor of the barbershop take up the leather strap hanging nearby and begin to strop a straightedge razor.
“Have a seat, Marcus, now that you’ve had the tour. I need to give this beard here a few more minutes to soften. What was that you were saying about Matt Bartholomew and his women? I appreciate your keeping your mouth shut about him when Clay popped out and offered you to come in and take a look around.”
“Yeah, I heard they’re pretty close. Thick as thieves. Which seems a little strange too, Matt being older and all. But he seems like an okay kid, and he sure looks like he can take care of himself, so I guess that’s just rumors, too.”
“About them other rumors,” Leo prompted, stropping away, “you were telling us…?”
“Don’t put a lot of store in them, the man never struck me as much of a ladies’ man. But, hell, you never can tell who does what with what’s in his pants. Right, boys?”
The two other customers in the shop answered with noncommittal grunts.
“I hear he’s only seeing half-a-dozen women and he’s probably not bedding them all,” Leo offered nonchalantly, the slap of a razor honing its edge ever more sharply growing louder to the toweled Matt. “A man can only do so much to keep his ha-reem happy.”
“The word is he’s got a few other gals in the next town over, maybe even farther away. Seems to meet up with them at that fancy wine bar place. Ever been there? Kinda arty, I hear, and since some of them arty types have been known to treat our women like…like…what’s the word, Leo?”
“Well, the word is crap, Marcus. He treats our women liked crap.”
Matt felt a hand tightly grip his left arm. What the hell was that? Sweat from the steaming towel ran into his eyes. He began to shift uneasily in the barber chair.
Another tight grip locked his right arm down. What? Who was that? Leo?
“Tell me, now…” It wasn’t Leo. Leo was across the room. “How’d you hear about all this?” Matt began to struggle. Two hands grabbed his feet. How many of them were there? He was shoved firmly back into place in the barber chair.
“Womenfolk. And the kids, of course. I never was much into that social meeting-up computer stuff, anyhow. Word of mouth is good enough for me.”
Somebody else was stropping another razor in Matt’s other ear.
“So you don’t think a man’s got a right to put his mark on as many womenfolk as he can?”
Was that Leo or Marcus? Matt wasn’t even sure who was talking anymore. He began to shake his h
ead, but other hands held the blinding damp cloth firmly in place.
“’Pears he’s not messin’ with marrieds and no kids, either. Which is a good thing, or there’d be a bunch of us ready to step in. Step in with those straight razors you’re stropping and do a little excising, if you know what I mean?”
Under the hot, sweat-drenched towel, Matt’s jaw dropped in utter shock. He gasped, feeling sharpened steel laid firmly on his forearm and more sharpened steel on his other arm.
“Don’t know what the board of ed folk might be thinking. He ought to be cut out of that job. Cut right out. Think of him being a sex-crazed role model to all them innocent high school kids and them with no sex education classes. Ought to be cut right out of that.”
“Aaagh!” Some one grabbed his crotch. Matt’s dick and balls shrank from the clutch. This couldn’t be happening!
“Cut them balls of his right off and then, by golly, he’d be a better man for it.” The shouts and threats were coming from all sides.
“He can fuck his head clean off, but nothin’ll come of it if he’s got no balls. He can still get it up, but nothing will come of it. That’ll fix him.”
“They got the word at the beauty parlor. Seems he’s even on to Amelia and Dorothy—”
Matt exploded. Arms and legs flailed, fighting off the men holding him down. He ripped off the hated towel.
“Amelia! For God’s sake, Marcus. You and I have known Amelia since…she’s like our sister!” Matt roared out of the chair, flinging the grappling men aside. “You sons of bitches are sick in the head! Get those goddamned razors out of my face! Who the hell grabbed my crotch? Clay! Not you too!”
Leo, slapping the worn leather arm of the barber chair, doubled over in guffaws, joined by the whoops of the other two customers who had been roped into holding Matt down.
Marcus, snickering and snorting hysterically, cowered behind the old-fashioned coat rack near the door.
Clay ducked an angry swat as his head, his broad shoulders giving a deprecating shrug. “I was the only one Leo figured had the guts to grab your nuts.” Grinning, he stumbled back out of reach, big hands up in protection from the swinging Matt.
“And Dorothy. Not one word about Dorothy.” Matt’s spun on the group of men. “I don’t give a shit what you’ve heard. That woman’s reputation is impeccable. And whether I date her or not, she will always do the right thing! God! What must it be like for her working in that rat’s nest of petty intrigue. Don’t any of you people have lives?”
“Damn you, why’d you let me carry on like that?” Red-faced and totally in a quandry as to how to react, Marcus bent over clinch-fisted and stuttering, throttling the coat rack.
Matt shoved his face into the face of the older man. “Marcus, we’ve known each other since your family dragged you down river from upstate to get away from those godawful winters. That’s what? Twenty, thirty years? How can you be a part of something stupid like this? It’s me, for God’s sake. I kept that old rusted out truck of yours going until you totaled her last winter.”
“Aw, come on, Matt.” Leo grabbed the bellowing man’s arms, just in case the excitement of the moment might lead inadvertently to blows. “Everybody knows it’s just talk. We got nothing else to keep us occupied. You’re a good-looking man, and finally available, why wouldn’t you be taking advantage of the situation. We just want to be sure the situation isn’t taking advantage of you.”
“I’m not taking advantage of anybody.” That doesn’t want to be taken advantage of, he added to himself, simmering down. “You’re just frickin’ jealous, is what you all are. My ha-reem seems very happy with the way I handle them. And we’re talking two very beautiful and willing women, not twenty.”
“Two? You’re bedding down two? Which two?” Marcus was a determined cuss.
“I didn’t say a word about bedding down.” Matt looked as shocked as he could manage, though the absurdity of the grisly joke the guys had pulled was swamping his anger. “That certainly is a thought. Thank you, Marcus. I just might suggest that to them. Don’t know’s I’d be man enough, but it sure sounds like it might be worth the effort.”
“Wait a minute,” Marcus hooted, sending the coat rack spinning away. “I didn’t suggest any such sort of a thing.” He looked around at the snickering men. “Damn, don’t let that word get spread around. Things just take off before you ever get a chance to do anything about them. Marcus is pimping one of CoveHaven’s finest. Matt, I didn’t suggest a thing you hadn’t already thought of. Did I, men? Leo?”
“Well…it sure sounded to me like—”
“No! No. Dammit. No. I just repeated what my missus…uh, well, that is…well, maybe I misconstrued…some things.” He sat down, clutching his head in fake bereavement, his shoulders shaking with dry sobs—or repressed amusement. “No offence, Matt.”
“A hell of a lot taken,” Matt snorted, grinning. “But maybe because I’m kinda new at getting back into this dating game, joking around with razors and my balls is a little…unsettling. I forget that everybody in this town seems to think my balls are their business as well as my own.”
“Okay, ladies?” Jerry barked, standing in the front doorway, large container in hand. “Everybody finished with their gossip session? Can you take me now, Leo? I’ve got a hot date tonight too. Anybody want to take down my name and number? Maybe spread the word around. I could use a few more ready and willings. Matt shouldn’t be the only one getting it in this town. By the way, razor man, I bought you a little something. A nice big saltpeter shake!”
The men erupted in howls and hoots of laughter. Grinning, Matt started to protest, then giving up, slapped Marcus on the back, shot Jerry a thumbs up, and headed toward the back room dragging Clay by an ear.
He had heard the rumors, but it hadn’t really hit him until now that whatever he and Dorothy and Lucy decided, what the town decided too would have an impact on their lives.
Which could be a good thing…
…or a bad thing.
* * * *
Amelia was stricken.
“Dorothy, I’m just so sorry you had to hear that. She didn’t know you were…”
Dorothy nodded to Amelia and finished off the cut and blow-dry she was working on in a cloud of hair spray, determined to maintain her pleasant demeanor. “How’s that, Sally Mae?” she enquired quietly of her customer. I hope you’re pleased.”
Sally Mae beamed into the mirror. “Oh, yes.” A distressed look replaced her beaming. “I didn’t know what to say, Dorothy. I mean, when she came in and just started blabbing away. I think she gets her hair done at the mall. She really didn’t know it was you they’re all talking about.”
“Me and Matt and Lucy and…” Dorothy began to enumerate. “At least Christy got out while the getting was good.”
“Where is she?” Amelia tried to change the subject or at least deflect it as her co-worker removed the styling cape from around SallyMae and ushered her from the chair.
“In Florida,” Dorothy said flatly. “She took a few days. Wanted to get her feet wet in the Gulf, she said. Left me an email.” Dorothy knew more than that, but saw no reason to share it. Certainly not now.
Marta, lounging in the waiting area alongside Brunnie—the two of whom had become very unlikely peas in the same odd pod—put down the current issue of the glossy home magazine she was thumbing through.
“Well, I always assume Dorothy is more than capable of taking care of herself as far as gossip is concerned. Which is why none of us said a word and just let the woman talk, Dorothy,” she emphasized, unctuously. “You may as well know what the town’s thinking. What kind of gossip is going around. Goodness knows, you’ve been through it before. So it can’t come as too much of a surprise that some people around town are a little concerned about your current affair. He doesn’t seem to have your best interest at heart. That’s what bothers us all. Much as we love Matt and the good care he takes of our automobiles, we care more about how he’s taking care of you
. Or not.”
Brunnie looked over her reading glasses from flipping through a current copy of a fashion spread. “We care about you going off the deep end again, Dot. Might as well say it out plain. You took Matt’s picking Alice over you hard. Now I know that was years ago and, sure enough, everything seemed to be right when you and Beau hit it off. He was such a sweet man. And then…” Her words caught in her throat. She bit her lips. “And then that terrible accident, and there you were alone again. I know you had Alice. It’s wonderful that you two got back together, having been best friends for so long. But…well, when Alice…”
“Frankly, Dorothy,” Marta interjected, truly concerned. “We all feared for your mental health. Those are awful burdens to bear. We certainly wouldn’t want you to go through anything like that again.”
Dorothy slumped into her recently vacated styling chair. The roller coaster ride was getting to be too much. To go from the euphoria of Matt and Lucy to the exhaustion of fielding the town gossip was beginning to prove more than she wanted to deal with.
“Yeah, it did get pretty much to where I was afraid if anybody got anywhere near me, they were in for it. Or out, as the case may be. I wasn’t much noted for keeping my feelings to myself. And I haven’t been good at clearing the air all these years either. If I owe anyone an apology, please accept it…even at this late date.”
Now would be the time to pull out a cigarette. If she smoked. Or a drink. Like Bette Davis in one of those black and white tear jerkers. Brunnie would know which one.
How would Julianne Moore handle a scene like this? First of all, Dorothy thought, I don’t have the hair to pull it off. And me a hairdresser. God, she slumped even lower in the chair. Just a dead beat.
“We care about you, Dot. You know that. We don’t want an apology, for heaven sake. Certainly not for something that happened years ago.” The concerned women voiced their agreement. Marta sighed. “We just hope things can be resolved without you getting too hurt.”
“Too hurt? So, you’re all pretty much sure it’s not going to work out?”