Unconventional

by Isabel Love

  With Charlie in my mouth, I feel her slit with my index finger. It’s hot and slippery with her arousal. The warmth seeps into my skin and I trail my finger up and down, almost shyly, comparing what she feels like to what my pussy feels like. It’s kind of the same, yet different. She’s entirely hairless, the skin soft and smooth. Her lips are smaller than mine, and it seems to make her clit more accessible. She gasps when I circle the hard nub, spreading her wetness around to make her slippery. I like slippery friction, so I thought maybe she’d like it too.

  “Is she wet, Red?”

  My lips pop off of Charlie’s cock and I angle it back to Tallah. Looking up at him, I say, “She’s soaked.”

  “Fuuuuck.” He stands up, squeezing the base of his cock again. Tallah and I kneel up, raising our butts off the ground, to follow his movement. I keep my finger where it is, exploring, while she inches closer to me. Charlie’s dick is in our faces, right in between our mouths. Tallah opens her mouth and Charlie glides in slowly, forcing her to open her mouth wider. Fuck, her lips are stretched around him.

  “Tallah, I want you to touch Quinn. Show me how wet she is.” My eyes fly up to his. He nods again, telling me he wants this so much, that he wants to see her touch me, too. Tallah watches me, her mouth stuffed full of that thick cock, and she touches my hips with her hands. I startle slightly, and she smooths her hands back and forth, petting me. Then she reaches my breasts, weighing them and pulling them so I have to move my body forward, and lines my nipples up with hers. She closes her eyes, slurping softly around Charlie’s cock, and sways her upper body so our nipples touch and catch, moving them back and forth.

  Fuck, that feels good. Charlie’s hand is on my face, fingers tangling in my hair, and he pulls out of Tallah’s mouth and pushes into mine. I stare up at him, licking and sucking while my finger is on another woman’s cunt, and feel her glide one hand down to my pussy. She hesitates right on the verge of cupping me then skips over to touch my inner thigh. My pussy clenches, aching to be touched, to be filled, anything that might get me closer to an orgasm.

  I look at Tallah, pleading with her to touch me, and pinch her clit.

  “Ah,” she gasps, and Charlie takes the opportunity to slip back into her mouth.

  I feel her fingers hover over my sex again, so I widen my legs and tilt my pelvis up like she did. Then I feel it, her fingers touching my lips, spreading them apart to touch my entrance and collect my arousal. Mmm. Her touch is bolder than mine.

  She rubs her fingers up and down, coating them in my arousal, then holds them up to Charlie.

  The scent of sex fills the air.

  “God, Red, you’re completely soaked. I think you should clean up Tallah’s fingers.”

  Lick my own juices off her finger?

  It’s like he can hear my question because he nods. “That’s right, open your mouth and lick her fingers clean.”

  So, I do, and my pussy throbs as I taste myself, musky and salty.

  She puts them back on me as soon as I’m done, circling my clit and rubbing my slit. I mimic her movements, feeling my orgasm start to approach.

  Charlie pulls out of Tallah’s mouth and leaves his dick in between us then gently nudges our faces together so my mouth is touching one side of his shaft and Tallah’s is touching the opposite side. I can see where he’s going with this, so I open my mouth wide, as does Tallah, and he starts to thrust between us, using both of our mouths at the same time. He curses and mutters about how perfect we are, how good this feels, how lucky he is. We slurp around him, coating his dick with our saliva so he can glide between our lips easily.

  I moan, feeling drunk with arousal. Maybe I feel Tallah’s tongue and lips touch mine, but I could care less at this point.

  She starts rocking into my hand, and when I start to do the same, grinding my pussy on her finger, she pushes two fingers inside me and flicks my clit with her thumb. My eyes widen, and I’m unable to control the sounds that escape me now. I do the same to her, feeling her heat surround my fingers as I push them in and out.

  It all becomes too much—Charlie’s cock sliding between our lips, Tallah’s nipples nudging mine, her fingers deep inside me, scissoring and stroking, her thumb on my clit, teasing me, my fingers inside of her, making her gasp and moan.

  Charlie starts to grunt louder and I can feel his cock pulse and jump against my lips. That precipice of pleasure nears, and I strain, reaching for it, desperate to come.

  Tallah finds her orgasm first, her pussy fluttering around my fingers, her soft cries filling my ears.

  “Fuuuuck, I’m going to come. I need your mouth, Red. Swallow me.”

  I open wide, too uncoordinated to do anything but let him thrust in and out of my mouth while Tallah continues to work my pussy.

  Intense pleasure consumes me, stealing my vision and making me scream. The sound is muffled by the cock coming in my mouth as hot jets of semen flood me, making me gag and tear up, which somehow intensifies my orgasm.

  I tremble and shake while gentle fingers pet my clit, soothing and milking every last spasm.

  When I can open my eyes again, Charlie is kneeling with us, grinning at me. We all look at each other and laugh, content and sated.

  “That was one hell of a show,” he tells Tallah.

  We fall into a big heap on the floor, limbs tangled as our heart rates normalize.

  I close my eyes and smile. We had a threesome as a couple and if anything, I feel closer to Charlie than ever. Never once did he make me feel like he wanted Tallah more than he wanted me.

  Maybe we really can do this.

  Doubly lucky, it would seem.

  WHAT IS THAT? I contemplate as I stare at an abstract piece of art. I see swirls and patterns, but mostly it just looks like a two-year-old made it. I check the price tag and grimace. $1500? Sheesh. What a rip-off.

  Quinn and I are at the open house at Art Redefined. She had to take care of something in the back, so I’m wandering the gallery, champagne glass in hand. Jazz music plays in the background and servers circle the room with trays full of fancy finger food and cocktails.

  The art on display is an eclectic mix of different styles and different media. I can pick Quinn’s pieces out from all the rest, my eye in tune with her style. Now that I’ve watched her work so many times, seeing her pieces makes me think of what she looks like when she’s painting.

  A sculpture in the center of the room catches my eye. Wow. It’s a tree with different branches intertwining together and breaking off into smaller ones. It’s large and imposing, probably twice as tall as I am. As I get closer, I notice all the detail carved into it. It’s impressive, so much so that my fingers itch for my camera to capture its beauty. I check out the tag and find the name Tobias Renolds. My eyebrows rise in surprise. I knew Tobias sold pieces here, too, but I had completely forgotten until this very moment.

  “What do you think?” a deep voice rumbles beside me. Speak of the devil. I turn to find Tobias in a sharp navy blue suit, cocktail in hand.

  “It’s amazing,” I tell him honestly.

  His green eyes take me in. “This old thing.” He smirks.

  “How long did it take you?”

  “Six months.”

  “Holy shit.” My response is louder than I wanted it to be, causing a couple people to turn around and look at me. I hold up my hand in apology.

  Tobias chuckles. “Can’t take you anywhere.”

  I tug at the collar of my dress shirt. “I’m not a shirt-and-tie kind of guy.”

  “Me either,” he agrees. We stand in comfortable silence, assessing the crowd. My family should be here any minute. When Quinn told Suzanne I was coming with her, she gave us a few extra tickets. Feeling poorly about my last conversation with my mom, I thought this might be a nice olive branch.

  “So you and Quinn?” He raises his eyebrows in question.

  I smile and nod. “Me and Quinn.”

  “I knew it,” he says, eyes twinkling at me, lips smiling. “She
kept trying to tell me there was nothing more between you guys, but I could feel it. Even when I was inside her that night, I could tell she was yours.”

  “We both tried to fight it, but after that night, I didn’t want to stop it from happening anymore. It just feels, right. I feel like she gets me, and I get her.” I shrug, not quite sure why I’m explaining this to Tobias.

  “I’m happy for you guys, but I can’t say I’m not disappointed.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Completely selfish reasons, of course. That night gave me a lot of material to jerk off to.”

  I chuckle. “Me too,” I admit. “It was a lot of fun.” I choose not to tell him that Quinn and I still partake in threesomes. Not because I don’t want to have a repeat of that first night with Tobias, but because I want it to be up to Quinn. If she wants to invite him to play with us again, I’d love it, but not if she doesn’t want it too. It’s like my desire is directly proportional to hers.

  He flashes me a wolfish grin, showing me his straight, white teeth. “It most definitely was. You’re a lucky man.”

  “I am.” I still can’t believe I get to call her mine.

  “There you are, sorry it took me so long.” Quinn’s arms wrap around my waist from behind, then I pull her to my side, admiring the view of her all dressed up in an emerald green dress. The shiny satin fabric reflects the light and contrasts beautifully with her pale skin and red hair. The back is my favorite, as there isn’t much to it, plunging down to her lower back, putting her beautiful skin on display. I can’t stop touching her, laying a hand on her bare back.

  “Hey Quinn.” Tobias nods to her.

  “Tobias.” She smiles at him with a nod of her own.

  My mind flashes back to that night, to Tobias pounding into her while she sucked my cock, and now we’re just standing here, talking like causal friends. I look for a trace of awkwardness, but all I find is arousal.

  Quinn turns to me. “Did you see this piece?” She nods to the tree we’re standing in front of.

  “Kind of hard to miss,” I joke.

  “It’s Tobias’s show-off piece. I mean, seriously? Do you have to be so talented?” she complains.

  “Oh fuck off. You have more pieces in here than any other artist. When do you find the time to make all of them?” he asks her.

  “Well, when you don’t spend six months of your life dedicated to only one piece, you have the time to make more.” She chuckles. “Hey, did Charlie tell you about his pieces?”

  Surprised green eyes meet mine. “You paint?”

  I grimace, uncomfortable with the attention. “No, not really. Quinn just convinced me to try it. I’m sure they’ll end up in the garbage at the end of the night.”

  “Ha! Have you talked to Suzanne yet?” Quinn smiles up at me knowingly.

  “No.”

  “There seems to be a bit of a bidding war going on with your work.”

  “What? I don’t believe you.” No way does anyone want my art, let alone more than one person. “You must be mistaken.”

  She beams up at me. “I’m not. I told you they would sell. Let’s go talk to her, she’s dying to meet you.” She tugs on my hand, pulling me behind her. I wave to Tobias and reluctantly follow Quinn. We stop next to a pretty woman with an asymmetric haircut, bold makeup, and chunky jewelry.

  “Suzanne, this is Charlie.”

  “Hey there, Charlie!” She holds out her hand and shakes mine vigorously.

  “Nice to meet you, Suzanne.”

  “I’m so excited you decided to come tonight. Your pieces are garnering the most attention of any new artist on display.”

  I laugh. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll believe me when I pay you. Speaking of which, I need you to fill out a form with your bank information before you go.”

  “No problem.”

  “Now, tell me you’ll make more.” She bats her eyelashes, smiling wide.

  “Honestly, I’m not much of a painter. My passion is photography. I don’t see any photographs for sale here, though.”

  She taps her finger against her lip. “The owner isn’t crazy about photography, but I’ve been trying to convince him otherwise. Why don’t you email me five of your favorite images and I’ll matte them, frame them, and put them on display at our next open house? We can test the waters with our customers, see if they sell.”

  “That I can do.”

  “Excellent.” She beams at me. “I have to go greet some more guests, but don’t forget to stop and see me about that paperwork before you go.”

  “Okay.”

  “That went well.” I smile down at Quinn. “I never thought of selling photography outside of my job.”

  “Suzanne is wonderful to work with. I have a great feeling about this.”

  I think of the pictures I took of her while she was painting in her studio, and an idea forms in the back of my mind; I’ll have to talk with Suzanne about it later. “Me too.” I pull her in close, smoothing my hands down her back again, breathing her in.

  “Charles, is that you?” I hear my mom’s voice ring out. Quinn tries to move away, but I hold on tight, keeping her at my side. This could either go really well or really poorly. I take a deep breath for fortification and Quinn squeezes my hand.

  “Hi Mom, Dad.” I nod to my parents. “You remember Quinn.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Nelson, I’m so glad you could make it.”

  “Thank you for the tickets, Quinn.” My mom smiles stiffly at us.

  “You’re welcome. My boss, Suzanne, may approach you about becoming members, just be warned. She’s quite the saleswoman,” Quinn says, folding her hands together awkwardly.

  “Have you had a chance to look around?” I ask them.

  “No, we just got here,” my dad tells us.

  “I’m going to go look for Patricia.” My mom excuses herself.

  “Dom and Tabby are on their way.”

  “I’m glad they’re coming, too.”

  My dad stares at me a beat, hesitating. Quinn must be able to tell because she excuses herself, stating that she needs to check on something.

  I stare back at my dad, waiting for him to rip into me.

  “Your mother told me about your conversation.”

  I nod and look away. “Figured she would.”

  “Well I just want to say that I’m sorry.”

  What? I look at him in surprise. “Come again?”

  “I’m sorry you feel like we’re disappointed in you, Charlie. I admit that I wished you would’ve become a lawyer when you were younger, but I’m happy you’re doing something that makes you happy. I just don’t know how to talk about much else.”

  Shock fills me—and doubt.

  “I know I’ve done a poor job of showing you, but hearing the way you feel…it made me realize what a bad father I’ve been.”

  I clench my jaw. “You and Mom haven’t been very inclusive.”

  “Valid point. Duly noted.” He still sounds like a lawyer, but I guess it’s because he is a lawyer. “Will you give me a chance to do better?”

  My face heats and my mouth gapes, unsure how to respond. Maybe I could say it’s too little too late, tell him to fuck off, tell him he has been a bad father by always making me feel like I was never good enough.

  But what good would that do? Staring into his blue eyes, so much like my own, I see sincerity and regret.

  “I’d like that, but I want to make this clear: Quinn is important to me. Please tell Mom to treat her with respect.”

  His eyes widen and he nods slowly, knowing I’ve never told him a woman is important to me—not since Anna anyway. “She suits you, I think.”

  This makes me smile. “She does.”

  “BABE, YOU READY YET?” Charlie shouts from the living room. Max and Monica’s bridal shower is today, but instead of having an elaborate fancy affair at a party center, we turned it into an informal cookout at my place. Oh, and men are invited, too.

>   “Be right out!” I holler back at him. Everyone is due to arrive in 20 minutes and I still need to set out the appetizers and drinks on the bar. I stare at my reflection, making sure I haven’t forgotten anything major. Sundress on with strapless bra—check. Teeth brushed, makeup on, hair wrangled into a somewhat presentable style—check, check, check.

  Then I meet my eyes and take a deep breath. This is a happy day. Monica is my best friend, and I’m beyond thrilled that she found Max. I will not think of my own bridal shower. No. I don’t know why it lingers in the back of my mind, anyway. I’m happy I divorced that cheating prick, and I’m happy with Charlie.

  Really happy, like start-daydreaming-in-the-middle-of-getting-food-out-of-the-refrigerator kind of happy.

  He gets me. He makes me feel more alive and desired and cherished than I ever have before, and things are still going strong two months in. We practically live together at this point, always ending up at each other’s place every night, and I’ve had more orgasms in the last two months than most people have in their lifetime.

  So, I’m not jealous or upset that my friend is getting married. I’m not.

  I’m just…a bit nostalgic, I guess. Monica was my maid of honor and threw me a bridal shower, and it’s hard not to think about it when I’m now doing the same for her.

  I square my shoulders, stick out my chest, lift my chin, and tell myself, “You got this. You are going to have fun and not think about that asswipe for one more second.”

  “Who are you talking to, Red?” Charlie opens the door and pokes his head inside the bathroom.

  I laugh, caught off guard. “No one.”

  “I heard something.” He studies my face with a small smile. “You okay?” He wraps his arms around me and I lean my head against his chest, absorbing his strength.

  “I’m perfect,” I tell him.

  “You definitely look perfect. I like this dress, is it new?” He steps back so he can ogle me properly. It’s electric blue with straps that crisscross down my back, fun and flirty, and it reminds me of Tallah’s belly dancing costume.