by Jules Jones
“Because it feels good. A nice tight body around my cock, and a human body feels different to a dolphin body. And Patrick says that for someone who likes being fucked, it feels good to the human body as well, if you’re careful.” George looked behind him, to where Patrick was, then looked back, totally focused on him. “But it’s different with Patrick, because he can tell if I’m about to come, and he can change shape if he has to. You can’t.”
Safe, sane, consensual. There was no doubt that it would be consensual if it happened at all, but was it safe or sane to be even thinking about doing this?
George cupped his face between those big hands. “You’d have to trust me absolutely. I’m a changer; I can keep control like a human, even when I look like a dolphin. But if you panicked, or I got it wrong -- I could literally fuck you to death.”
He could see the fear in George’s eyes. A shudder ran through him. He’d never played at that level. Dangerous games didn’t appeal to him. He didn’t see the point of doing something just because it was dangerous.
And that was what made the difference. If they did this, it wouldn’t be for the thrill of the danger, but in spite of it, with all the precautions they could muster. The thrill would be in the trust.
“We’ll have to think about it.”
“I know. But if you’re willing ...” George hugged him and kissed him.
They were both hard, their cocks bumping together. Both turned on by the idea, even if they were both scared of what could go wrong. George pulled back a little and stared at him with that utterly focused look he sometimes got.
Then George picked him up and carried him out of the water. He didn’t protest, but let George take control. Let George lay him down on the beach and lie on top of him. Held George tight in his arms as George thrust against him.
Cock against cock again, but this time it was the familiar body above him, the familiar weight pinning him down. A big but human cock pressed tightly against his own. They strained against each other, cocks slipping and sliding together. He was already aroused, needed nothing more. He knew it would take only one or two more thrusts against his cock. No need to hold back, not when both his lovers had already had their turn. Not when George was on the brink again himself.
“Want you,” he said and pressed up against George -- and felt himself go over. George, too, that intense gaze softened now.
They clung to each other, their bodies tense with coming. They still clung to each other even as it slowly ebbed away. Eventually George let go of him and rolled off, but still kept one arm across his chest.
Patrick was standing next to them, holding a towel in each hand. “Here. You two had better dry off before you get chilled.” His cock was erect, but he didn’t seem in urgent need.
Martin sat up and took one of the towels. He did feel a bit cold now and was glad to wrap the towel around himself. Gladder still to have George hug him. “Are we done for now?”
Patrick grinned at him. “I enjoyed the show, but I can always go and have a quiet wank by myself if I need something.” Patrick glanced down at himself. “Ignore that. You know it can never remember which species it is.” He sat down beside them and snagged another towel from where he must have dropped it nearby. “Are we staying here all afternoon?”
“At least until it gets a bit cooler outside,” George said. “Or we could go out and read in the garden. It’s the weekend -- we might as well have a holiday from working on the house.”
That sounded like a nice idea. They didn’t have a real garden yet, but they could always put a blanket or two down on the scrubby grass and rig something for shade. “Swim a bit more, and then sit around in the garden,” he suggested. “We put in a good morning’s work, and I don’t have to go anywhere tomorrow.”
George ruffled his hair. “Not unless you check your email tonight and find another urgent demand for your services. As a geologist, I mean.”
“You two don’t leave me the energy to provide any other sort of services to anyone else.”
Patrick said, “Good,” and kissed him.
He didn’t have the sexual appetite to keep up with them, but it didn’t matter. With three of them, they all got enough to feel satisfied. Right now all Martin wanted was a kiss and a cuddle, and he knew Patrick was perfectly happy to keep it at that. So he kissed Patrick back and hugged him. Then he suggested, “Back to the water?”
They followed him back into their little private bit of sea.
* * * * *
As it turned out, there was email waiting for him that evening, but it wasn’t a job. It was an invitation to write a book review for a journal. There was even the offer of an honorarium along with the review copy of the book. “I’m going up in the world.”
“What?” Simon asked.
He explained about the invitation. “The honorarium isn’t much, given how long it will take to read the book and write a decent long review of it, but being asked to do it is good.”
Simon peered over his shoulder. “Gets your name in front of people and says your name has already been in front of people.”
“Does it mean you can work at home for a few days?” Patrick asked.
“Yes.” He turned around to face them. “Though if an actual contract comes in, I’ll still have to go out and earn a living. Just means that I’ve got a little bit of work that’s low paid but will fit around site contracts.”
“You’re going to do it, then?” George asked.
“Yes. Simon, can I give them this address to send the review copy to? I’m probably going to be here as much as anywhere for a while.”
“Of course.” Simon patted him on the shoulder. “Though you really ought to go back to your flat occasionally to pick up the post.”
“I do. But if I do get a contract offer, I might not get back to the flat for a couple of weeks, and a book won’t fit through the letter box. At least here there’s a reasonable chance that someone will find the note telling us to pick it up from the post office before they send it back.” He turned back to the computer to send a reply. It wouldn’t be a lot of money, but he’d enjoy doing it, and even a small payment would be worth having at the moment.
Then he settled down to doing his accounts. Doug always paid promptly and accurately, and the last job had come through the agency, but there were still receipts to be sent and covering letters to be written. It was the least interesting part of the job, but it was the penalty one paid for working as a consultant rather than as an employee. As he wrote to the agency to say that he was currently free for any new jobs, he idly wondered whether George or Patrick would be interested in learning to do some of the office admin. It would be something useful they could do if they felt that they should contribute something besides fresh fish to the household once the work on the house was done.
He was disturbed by the sound of the doorbell ringing, but didn’t pay much attention. Simon said, “I’ll get it,” and went to the front door, so he turned his attention back to the computer.
Even Simon saying, “What the fuck are you doing here?” drew only part of his attention. It was only when he heard Barry say, “I need to see Martin,” that he sat bolt upright and hit the save button.
Chapter Twenty-Three
He hadn’t imagined it. When he got to the door, it was Barry standing in the doorway, looking distressed. Martin was tempted to repeat what Simon had said, but the look on Barry’s face stopped him. Something had happened to Barry, and whatever might have gone wrong between them, Martin was past the point of wishing hurt upon him. “What’s wrong?”
“Margaret’s left me.”
The dead tone of Barry’s voice stopped any retort he might have had along the lines of “Serves you right.” There was more to this than Barry thinking that he was just going to pick up with Martin where he’d left off. “So why come here?” he asked, as gently as he could.
Barry stared at him. “Didn’t think you’d take me back. I’m not that stupid. But I needed to talk to s
omeone.” He sniffled a little. “Sorry, Martin, but I couldn’t think of anyone else. The man she left me for -- he’d already tried it on with me.”
Martin looked Barry over, taking in the details. The man was distraught, even if he was in control of himself for now. He looked as if he hadn’t slept much last night. His wife had left him for another bi man. He must have tossed and turned, unable to sleep, and been too scared, too repressed, to talk to anyone about it. And finally he’d become desperate enough to come to the one man he trusted not to tell the world that he was bi.
Martin sighed and said, “You’d better come in.”
“Martin ...” Simon said.
But before Martin could say anything, Barry looked at something behind him. Someone behind him. Someone several inches taller than him.
“Martin?” George said.
It would have to be George and not Patrick. If George took exception to Barry and showed it, he’d scare the living daylights out of the man without ever making an overt threat.
Barry said, “I’m sorry ... I didn’t think ...” He started to turn away. “I’ll go.”
Martin grabbed him without even thinking about it. “You’re in no state to drive safely. Come in and sit down for a few minutes; then I’ll drive you to a hotel.” Barry had by some miracle made it down here intact, but Martin didn’t want to rely on two miracles in one evening.
“Are you sure?” Barry glanced behind him again.
“Are you sure?” George asked, in the sort of tone that suggested that he would be very happy to bodily remove Barry if asked to do so.
He turned around to look at George. “Yes. Whatever I may think of his behaviour, I don’t want him involved in an accident. Go back inside. No, go and put the kettle on.”
George flicked a glance over Barry again, and his expression changed from hostile to concerned. “Don’t worry about us. It’s Martin’s decision whether you stay.” He turned and went.
Barry stared after him. “I thought he must be a ... well, what you like.”
“He is,” Simon said. “As I gather Martin has tried to explain to you, some people do it as a lifestyle, but most keep it in the bedroom. And George is shy around strangers. I doubt you’d have seen him if he wasn’t so protective of Martin and guessed who you are.” Simon sighed and shook his head. “All right. You’d better come inside and have a rest. We’ll never hear the end of it if we throw you out and anything happens to you.”
Barry finally came in and followed Simon to the living room. Martin followed behind, ready for fireworks.
Barry stopped and stared at Patrick, who was just getting out of his chair.
“Patrick, this is Barry,” Simon said. And as Patrick started to react, Simon added with a touch of malicious pleasure, “Barry, this is Patrick. Yes, there are two of them.”
Barry staggered to the sofa and sat down. Martin gave Simon a promissory glare and went to check that Barry was all right. “Barry?”
Barry stared up at him. “I always thought you were faithful.”
“I am. It’s just that I’m being faithful to two people.” He sat down next to Barry. “It’s a long story.”
Barry looked over at Patrick. “Would you have stayed with me if I’d been honest about Margaret?”
“No. But I wouldn’t have been angry with you.” He could understand what Barry was thinking. “Look. I’m in a relationship with both of them. It’s not that any of us is the bit on the side.”
“I didn’t want you to be. But I was scared of losing either of you. And now ...” Barry started crying.
Three months ago, he might have taken pleasure in Barry’s distress. But he’d had time to heal, and he had two loving partners and a new life. He didn’t need revenge any more. So he put his arm around Barry and held him until Barry got control of himself again.
“What’s happened?” Patrick asked quietly.
“His wife’s left him, only it’s got complicated.”
Barry wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “And I didn’t know anyone else I could talk to about it. I’m sorry I barged in on you like this.”
George came in. He obviously noticed that Martin was holding Barry, but didn’t comment. All he said was, “What would you like to drink?”
“Tea, milk, no sugar,” Martin said. “And bring him some biscuits. I bet you haven’t eaten for hours, have you?”
Barry shook his head. He seemed calmer now. “Couldn’t eat.”
Martin heard a very faint, very high-pitched sound. Someone was surreptitiously scanning Barry. If he hadn’t known what it was, he’d have either not noticed it or assumed that it was a mosquito.
George asked, “Simon, do you want a cup of tea while I’m making it?”
“Not at this time of night, thanks. But he looks as if it won’t make much difference keeping him awake, and he probably needs a hot drink.”
“Mmm.” George went out again. Martin was tempted to follow him and ask what the scanning was about, but didn’t want to leave Barry. It was probably just George being suspicious and checking to see if he was as upset as he looked.
Patrick sat down on the sofa on the other side of Barry, and Simon took one of the armchairs. They sat quietly until George brought a tray of mugs and food in a few minutes later. Not just biscuits. There was some bread and cheese as well. “See if you can eat something,” George said. “You’ll probably feel better if you can.”
Barry looked up at him and said, “Thanks,” before taking some of the food. His hands were trembling slightly.
After he’d had a couple of mouthfuls, Simon said, “Are you up to telling us about it?”
“I wasn’t the only one having an affair.” Barry looked down at his plate. “Yes, I know, I’ve no right to complain. But ...” He paused, then went on. “When I got home on Friday night, Margaret told me that she knew I’d been seeing someone else. Now she’d met someone else and she wanted to be with him while she thought about what to do next. He was there. Because she wanted me to know she wasn’t just making it up to get at me.”
“Ah,” Simon said. “That’s how you knew it was the same man.”
“Yes.” The next bit came out in a rapid burst. “I recognised him, because I’ve seen him in the bar I’d started going to. He tried to pull me a couple of weeks ago. I’d told him to get lost.”
“Ouch,” Patrick said.
“Did you tell her?” Martin asked.
“What could I tell her? That I’d been sitting in a gay bar, trying to work out what I was?” Barry shook his head. “She suspected I’d been seeing someone else. She told me that if I got to play around, so did she. But I don’t think she knew ...”
... that Barry had been playing around with a man, or that it had been rather more serious than just playing around. He hadn’t been just a casual fuck to Barry.
“Was it just a coincidence?” Simon asked. “Or did he already know who you were when he approached you?”
I don’t know.” Barry sighed. “I don’t know anything anymore. That’s why I needed to talk to Martin.” He looked around at them all. “I like men. But I’m not gay. I like women more. I’d had a few flings before I married Margaret, but it was never any more than that until I met Martin. I don’t know how things work, what’s considered acceptable behaviour if you’re bi. Never mind gay.” He picked up his cup of tea and hunched over it. “I don’t know if it was all just a coincidence, or if this man was after me and is just using Margaret --” He swallowed a sob. “-- or if he wants both of us. And I don’t know what to do about it, but I’m scared for Margaret if she doesn’t know he cruises. At least I always used a condom.”
That explained a lot about Barry’s current state of mind. He might be a two-timing bastard, but he was a careful two-timing bastard who loved his wife and was afraid of what could happen to her. And he felt guilty because he knew his own behaviour might have pushed her into it.
Simon was looking a lot more sympathetic. “You’ll have to tell her, Barry.
I know it might mean she chucks you out for good if he tells her where he met you, but you can’t let her go on without knowing. If it was only a couple of weeks ago that he tried it on with you, it was almost certainly after your wife got involved with him.”
“I know.” Another mouthful of bread and cheese, a sip of tea. “But I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if she’ll believe me. And even if she does -- what if she already knows?”
“Then you’ll just have to think about what you’re going to do,” Simon said. “Look -- why did you turn this man down?”
“I’d already fucked things up with Martin. I wasn’t looking for sex; I just wanted to get a better idea of what I really wanted. He actually asked me what I was doing there if I wasn’t looking for a pick-up. He’d been watching, and he’d seen me turning people away.” Barry stopped to eat a little more and drink some more tea. It seemed to do him some good, because his voice was steadier as he went on, “I told him the truth -- that I’m bi, and I think I’m kinky, and I’m trying to work out exactly what else I might be and what and whether to tell my wife. I need people to talk to, to watch -- not to have sex with them.”
Simon sat back in his chair and chewed on his lip for a moment. Finally he said, “Listen. I think he knew who you were. He might be just a private detective your wife hired.” He paused for a few seconds, then went on, “But it’s just possible that this man was trying to sound out whether you’d be interested in a three-way relationship, without giving Margaret away. It’s not likely, but it’s worth trying to find out.”
It wasn’t impossible. It could be that Barry’s wife knew more than he realised about his sexuality. Or her new boyfriend was a regular in the bar simply because it was a gay bar, with no particular thought of cruising, and at some point had realised who Barry was. He could have been just testing, looking for something he could use to undermine Barry in his wife’s eyes -- or he could have been fishing for the prospect of a threesome. “If he wasn’t cruising, if he was only in that bar because it’s his local, and he tried it on to feel you out ... would you consider a threesome if that’s what it took to keep Margaret?” God knew what Barry’s wife made of the whole thing, but Martin felt sorry enough for Barry that he wanted to help if he could. “Either her having a lover, or all three of you together?”