by Kenze, Kyle
“What's up?” She was being brave, preparing herself to hear me say we'd had a night of fun and now it was over.
So far from what I was thinking. So fucking far.
“I was wondering how serious you are about that poly thing,” I said. “I mean, do you party pretty often, or is it more a fantasy that happens once a year when you go on vacation, or what?”
Her cheeks were pink. “Do you have a right to ask that?”
“Maybe. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner, but you know. Work. The new job. And bullshit trying to play it cool, trying to pretend it wasn't as strong as it was.”
She smiled at that. “Yeah. Me too.”
A pause. Not an uncomfortable pause. More a, “Let me think how to phrase this” pause. At last, she nodded. “And, in answer to your question, yeah, you got me. Parties happen a lot less often than I would like.”
Deep breaths, Clayton. Always be closing.
“What would you say if I said I had some friends I wanted you to meet? Female friends?”
She tilted her head, considering. “I'd say you were probably fucking with me. When have you had time to set up a party with all the crap happening with your new job? I heard the general kept you all hours the other night.”
“I have definitely been in a crunch for time, I won't lie about that, but I wouldn't bullshit you about my friends. They're a little out there, but they're healthy and open-minded.”
A long, long pause while she read whatever women read in the silences between people.
At last, she nodded.
“You know, I always had a feeling you might be a secret swinger, Clayton. Something inside me... I just knew.”
It was my turn to go pink. I'd never considered myself all that swinging, but my life had taken a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn over the last week. “We could meet them tonight if you wanted. I mean, hell, it is Friday night.”
She was trying not to smile, but the outer corners of her lips curled up. “How many of them are there?”
“Just two. Not too many for a girl like you to handle.”
Her smile became feral. “You interest me strangely, Clayton Parks.”
Should I have been more honest, or was I as honest as I could be under the circumstances? After the general's reaction, I simply didn't have the strength to tell anybody else about space aliens from Andromeda poisoning humanity's DNA. Trying to convince somebody of something that ridiculous wasn't going to help anyone. The best I could do was bring her home, let her meet the girls, let her figure out for herself there was something different about them.
Then we could put our heads together and take things from there.
There had to be a way to save the human race.
There just had to be. Destiny, fate, karma. Whatever you like to call it.
I'd been pulled between times for a reason. There's no such thing as coincidence.
“Have you ever heard of a drink that's a mix of chocolate and red wine?”
“Oh sure.” Her smile was electric. “We can stop at the liquor store and pick some up on the way. You'll love it. Maybe not for yourself, but you'll love how women thank you for it. And it's not expensive at all. You could pick up two or three bottles if you wanted.”
She slipped her hand between my thigh, the better to massage the bulge she found there.
One party at the end of time coming right up.
☼☼☼
Clayton's adventures continue in Psych, Book #3 of the Harem at the End of the Galaxy series. Fighting the alien menace might be a one-man battle, but he'll need to gather an entire team of beautiful women both from our time and the future.
About Kyle Kenze
I'm a regular guy from Texas who used to work in a cube in a well-known space center in Houston. It was less thrilling than you might think, but I got pretty good at filling in the slow parts of the day with my own private sci-fi fantasies. Now it's time to share my twisted stories with the world at large.
If you found a minor typo or want to join my mailing list, please feel free to email me at [email protected].
Visit my page at Kyle's Harem to find out where you can buy or borrow all my books.