by Troy Storm
“But…we were supposed to wait…”
“Now.”
The waterworks burst forth from Lucy again. “Oh, Brunnie, you’ve saved our lives.”
“No, sweet thing, I’ve saved your ménage. How you live your lives is up to you.”
* * * *
A few miles distant, Matt was trying to save his position as boss, as Buddy and Waco glared, muscular arms folded stubbornly, confronting him in his office.
“You’ve been a fucking bastard these last few days and the men have appointed us to either ram a fucking tie rod up your ass or tell you to go fuck off and try and run the shop yourself.”
“Or both.” Waco added to the shop manager’s announcement.
Matt returned their glares, his face hot with anger. His men seldom if ever rebelled. He prided himself on being a good boss…a great boss. He wanted his reputation of fairness and decent pay to spread throughout CoveHaven without his making a fuss about it. Matt’s Motors was successful because he hired competent mechanics and paid them well. It wasn’t a success because he was a pussy when it came to standing up for his principals.
Which were…
“It’s ‘cause you’re not fucking enough and us and the guys want you back in action,” Waco laconically intoned.
“What the hell happened between you and the girls?” Buddy pressed for a response. “You were the dude, the boss. The whole town was excited for you.”
Matt gulped oxygen for a moment, then decided it was time to get the whole mess into the open. He truly hadn’t realized…okay, he had realized he was being a shit, but nobody had called him on it and he had to take his frustration out on somebody.
“It was my fault. I didn’t want to give either one of them up. That must have scared them. Dorothy suggested we take a break to think things over.”
“What things? You were fucking good, right?” Buddy did know how to lay it out.
Matt’s face flamed. “I suggested...well, we all suggested...and agreed that we all move in together. Maybe...maybe I wanted it too much. Maybe I pushed too hard.”
Buddy beamed. “The three of you? Whoa! That’s hot.”
“A ménage a troyis,” Waco announced proudly, pronouncing every syllable and consonant. “Man, that’s like…French. Cool.”
“Yeah, well. Maybe they don’t think so now that they’ve had the chance to think about it. Maybe they think I’m some kind of pervert or something. I mean, what would the town think if we did such a thing out in the open? How would they hold their heads up?”
“How’re you holding yours up?” Buddy asked.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“According to the town blogs and twits you’ve been happily screwing half the available dames around town anyway. And I haven’t noticed any falling off of our customers.”
Waco added, “In fact, we got guys stopping by and craning their necks while they’re pumping gas to catch a glimpse of the town Luthero.”
“Lothario,” Buddy corrected.
“Him too.”
“So, what are you gonna do? We’re not puttin’ up with your bullshit treating us like we don’t know the gas end of a car from its front axle. We’re the best damn mechanics in this area and we want you to go back to treatin’ us like you have been treatin’ us. Like you know it.”
Waco grinned. “Yeah, and thanks for the invite to try out Clayton’s massage parlor. That’s working out real well. He’s really good with his hands.”
“I don’t know how you can put up with all that pawing. I’m way too ticklish.” Buddy shivered. “Just the thought…”
Waco’s grin widened. “Yeah. Just the thought.” His hand moved toward his crotch and then swung away to hook into the side of his overalls. He cleared his throat and tried to look serious to cover his blush.
Damn, Matt thought. Clay and Waco. That was about as unlikely a combination as… well, wait, as he and Dorothy and Lucy were likely.
So what was the big deal about their moving in together? His memory of how the three of them had reacted to the suggestion was too vivid, too visceral, too immediate, too boner-inducing as he sat behind the desk, rolling closer so as not to reveal himself, to have changed in the space of a few days.
“You guys are right. I’m sorry you didn’t call me out on it sooner. I need to clear up some stuff right away.” He reached for his cell phone. It rang.
“Yeah? Sorry. Matt’s Motors. Yeah? Dorothy! Hey, babe, it’s great to hear from you. She’s right there, too? Give her a hug for me. I was just about to call you. Yeah. Right now. Wasn’t I, guys?” He shoved the phone at the two men.
“Right, Dot. He was just talking about calling you guys.”
“The both of you. And Clay says to say hello.”
Matt frowned a questioning look at Waco who shrugged. “Maybe they’d want a massage too,” he muttered. “It seems to loosen people up pretty good.” Buddy dragged him out of the office, closing the door behind him as he gave Matt a thumbs up.
As soon as the door closed, Matt’s tone turned urgent. “Dorothy, I know you two were concerned about this ménage thing working out, but I say we can worry about that later. I miss you both. I want you both. I need you both. Please, let’s—”
She cut him off. They wanted to get together right now.
“You do? The both of you? Right now?”
Amelia had shut the shop for the day and Lucy had taken the rest of the day off. They could meet him at his house in fifteen minutes. They thought the three of them living together was a great idea. They saw no reason to delay making it happen.
Matt sighed contentedly.
“Make it ten.”
* * * *
Two weeks later, in his office at Matt’s Motors, a puzzled Matt Bartholomew opened a newly delivered, surprisingly familiar package with no return address. Pulling out the contents and unwrapping its contents, a big grin spread across his face.
He read the enclosed card. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered, the grin spreading even more broadly. This deserved a special response, he thought.
He punched a number into his cell phone.
“Clay? I’ve a special favor to ask.”
A couple of days later the muscular masseur looked up smiling from behind the digital camera he was wielding and announced he thought they had gotten the picture they wanted. The group he had been photographing clustered around the small rear screen of the camera, admiringly.
“Whoa. That is hot!”
“Oh my goodness, Matt, you look fantastic. You are …out there.”
“You ladies are the boss. Who would have thought anybody in CoveHaven had such sexy skivies.”
“Well, if they didn’t have them. We know who would supply them. Right, Brunnie?”
Brunhilda Mendle grinned proudly at the camera screen.
“I’m going to blow this up and put it over my bed. Look at me, perched up there on the hood of my beloved Oldsmobile surrounded by three of the most beautiful people in the world and in the most beautiful underwear. I thought my pair of ‘secret admirer’ shorts might shake you up, Matt, but I had no idea it would yield such a bonanza of beauties. And local ones, at that. Come on into the house, all of you, I have champagne on ice. Come here, you handsome young photographer, give me your arm.”
Matt, Dorothy, and Lucy followed the smiling senior citizen, decked out in her best, tottering on her high heels and holding on securely to a grinning Clay, into her well-maintained, beautifully appointed old-fashioned mansion.
“Matt, you never had the slightest idea who might have sent you those shorts in the first place?” Dorothy asked, slightly unbelievingly, as she and Lucy strolled arm in arm on each side of the now much more trim and muscular owner of Matt’s Motors through the charmingly ancient living room to the dining area.
“As far as I was concerned, everybody had a reason to try and shake me up, and you all had pretty much tried everything and anything to get me up off my ass and out and about agai
n. And if a pair of sexy shorts didn’t jump start my stalled motor, then nothing would. Brunnie, your timing was perfect, as always. I guess I must have been ready.”
“Ms. Mendle, you sure know how to think outside of the box. You’re my hero,” Lucy happily announced. “I want to grow up to be you.”
Passing out the filled champagne flutes, the smiling head of her one-woman household turned to Clay.
“And why did he pick you to do the honors shooting his and the girls’ ‘thank you’ present, young man?”
“He said I was the only one he trusted not to sneak that picture onto the Internet for all of CoveHaven to see. And I gotta admit, I’m tempted. You ladies are sizzling. All of you, and Ms Mendle, you’re the most sizzling one of all.” The young man turned to Matt with a grin. “You give me hope that even in my advanced years I will still be able to get it all.” He raised his glass.
The group joined his gesture.
“Hear hear!”
“Cheers.”
“Should I be sitting on these beautiful chairs with my bare bottom?”
“Lucy, dear. I’m honored. I may never get these chairs cleaned.”
The room erupted in laughter.
Bracketed by his two beautiful companions, Matt beamed and sipped the sparkling brew contentedly.
Life was very, very good.
And destined to get even better.
*The End*
About the Author
Troy Storm has been making up stories all his life. Now he writes them down and shares them. He lives on the upper west side of Manhattan. You can follow him on Facebook at www.facebook.com/troy.storm.184 . His blog is at www.troystormwriter.blogspot.com.
Other Books by Troy
Having it All
Secret Cravings Publishingwww.secretcravingspublishing.com