Boy in a Band (A Morgan Mallory story)

by Lisa Loomis

  “You look hot, kid,” he said roughly, pulling me to him.

  Our naked bodies pressed together as he kissed me hard and took my hand, shoving it down to feel his cock. My breath caught, and my heart raced, as I took his rock hard penis in my hand. I opened my eyes to see Gayle lying on the bed, still in her bikini, watching the two of us with an amused grin. I dropped down to the floor and took him in my mouth sucking, licking, moving him in and out slowly.

  “Hmmm,” he moaned.

  Of course I’d never given a blowjob, but I’d heard enough to guess at what he’d like. Similar to how I’d sucked and teased his finger in Tahoe. I gave him just enough then let his cock go and slithered up his body and pulled him towards the bed.

  “Gayle?” I asked.

  She smiled and stripped from her suit while Mathew and I watched. Our relationship was finally going to come full circle, as a threesome. I started to laugh.

  “This is crazy,” I chuckled.

  “After you,” Gayle teased.

  Nothing had ever made sense with Mathew, why start now. I climbed onto the bed and Mathew lay down beside me running his hand down my neck over my breasts and then between my legs. It was so nice to be able to move unobstructed by clothing. He pushed his fingers into me, in and out slowly, then circling my clitoris. My head was spinning, and not from the alcohol, but from desire.

  “Fuck me, Mathew,” I begged.

  He rolled on top of me and entered me hungrily, his hard cock spreading me, sending shivers through my body. I felt like I’d been hit by an electrical shock. He pumped his hard member in and out of me, and then harder at times making me reel. Intense feelings spread through my body like fire. Thrusting himself in and out of me, I couldn’t take my eyes off his face as I writhed in pure pleasure beneath him. I didn’t want it to end. Gayle ran her hand down his back reminding me she was there.

  I pushed him away reluctantly towards her, I didn’t want to be fair, but felt that I should. After all, it was her decision that got us here. I watched as Mathew pleasured Gayle and surprisingly I wasn’t jealous. Mathew tried subtly to encourage some girl on girl action, but I wasn’t going that far. After Gayle had her fill she pushed him back towards me. I was so turned on from him, and watching them, that I pushed Mathew onto his back and mounted his cock. Rocking my body hard on to him, feeling his hardness press further into me each time.

  “Uh,” he growled.

  I sat up slightly and he covered my breasts with his hands squeezing them. I could feel my desire building and rocked faster and harder. He grabbed my hips and ground me onto him, his face was taut, his breathing hard. When I climaxed I screamed out in pleasure.

  “Uh,” he moaned and then relaxed, as I fell back onto his chest, completely spent.

  Mathew had us both several times that night and into the early morning hours. Each time he was able to bring me to a delightful intense orgasm. I was surprised his being with Gayle didn’t bother me more. I think being high had given us both the courage, to be wild. Gayle wasn’t hot for Mathew like most of the girls. She thought he was a looker, but half the time she was mad at him for the way he treated me. Maybe that was the difference; I knew our night was a one-time thing. I didn’t have to worry about anything going on there. The three of us lay in the bed, Mathew in the middle, and talked afterwards. I didn’t remember saying goodnight, or falling asleep.

  I woke to find Mathew spooned around me. I lifted my head to look at Gayle, but we were alone in the bed. I rubbed my temples. Nice headache. I lay still listening, but there was no sound in the house. What the hell had I done? It seemed like such a good idea last night. Where was Gayle? I moved Mathew’s arm and slipped out of the bed. I went in Ann’s closet and found a robe and quietly left the room with him still sleeping.

  I knew Gayle wouldn’t go home that late, or that drunk. She was still here somewhere. I found her in Sara’s room in the free twin bed. Mathew’s room and the guest room had some of the guys sleeping in them. I tapped her, and she woke easily. I motioned for her to follow. We went to the living room and sat down on the white sofa. I tucked my feet up under the robe. She looked into my face searching my eyes.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  I shook my head.

  “I was going to say the same thing to you. Mathew suggesting such a thing and us crazy and high enough to go along,” I said smiling. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, not concerning me anyway. Now if you’re sorry you had sex with him, that’s another story. He sucked, don’t you think?”

  “He was loaded,” she said.

  I grinned at her and she smiled.

  “He didn’t suck, and you know it.”

  “No, he didn’t suck. I rather enjoyed it actually,” she said.

  “Okay, you don’t have to go that far.”

  I could feel a flutter in my heart.

  “Where is he?” she asked.

  “Still asleep, two girls wore him out last night,” I said, trying to make it light.

  Gayle smiled at me. It wasn’t pity, but something like it. Her knowing my feelings for him I took it as more of an Oh, Morgan look.

  “Go back, Morgan, make love to him like you want to. Like you’ve wanted to for frickin' ever.”

  I looked at her and sighed as tears welled in my eyes.

  “What made you say yes last night? What happened when I went to make drinks?” I asked.

  “I asked him if he was really serious. He said yes, almost daring me. I thought about you. How much you’ve wanted him. How often I’ve listened to your pain. How much I’ve wanted to kill him for hurting you. I was high enough to have it make perfect sense. Not sure if I was sober, and in the light of day, I would have felt the same. If you were willing, I figured we’d have fun. When I told him I would do it, I could tell he was shocked.”

  “I was shocked. I’m sure he was throwing it out there, thinking that it would never happen,” I said.

  “I couldn’t not take his dare. I felt like it was you and me having the upper hand. After I said yes, he didn’t have a choice but to go. Game on,” she smiled.

  I kissed her cheek.

  “Go back to bed. I’ll need you later,” I said.

  “I need the sleep,” she said, getting up to leave.

  I dropped the robe by the side of the bed and silently crept in beside Mathew. As I slid in, he stirred.

  “Morgan, it is you. I was wondering if I was dreaming.”

  Oh, brother!

  “No, you don’t, Mathew,” I whispered. “Don’t pretend you don’t remember the whole thing, every thrust of it. I don’t care how high you were. You know.”

  He opened his eyes cautiously, first one and then the other.

  “Are you pissed at me?”

  I stared into his face as his eyes searched mine.

  “Hmmm. How do I answer that exactly? I think, in one way or another, I’ve been pissed off at you since I met you.”

  He pushed into me.

  “Where’s Gayle?” he asked, closing his eyes.

  “She left saying something about the worst sex she’d ever had,” I said.

  He opened his eyes in surprise and I laughed.

  “She all right about it?”

  “She’s fine. Tired. She moved to Sara’s other bed,” I said. “Maybe the real question should be if I’m all right with it.”

  He grinned at me and I reached out to run my finger over his lips.

  “What do they call that?”

  “What do they call what?”

  “Three? There’s a word for it.”

  “Ménage a trois. And now that you know the term, forget it, because it’s not happening again. With me anyway.”

  “Can I make love to you? Can I do it right, Morgan?”

  His look was sincere and I felt the butterflies flipping wildly in my stomach.

  “It’s about time,” I answered, pulling myself close to him.

  He kissed me gingerly at first and then not so. We w
ere able to take our time. Exploring each other’s bodies completely. No worrying about being caught, no clothes binding us, no rules binding us, spoken or unspoken. We made love and then fell back asleep. I woke to his kisses, and we made love again. We showered together, touching, lathering, and touching some more. I made him go get both of us clothes. When we came out of the bedroom, Sara, Sam, and Pat were out by the pool. Gayle and the other guys had gone.

  “Just missed Jack,” Sara volunteered. “No party tonight, Mathew.”

  It wasn’t a question but an order.

  “No, no party tonight,” Mathew answered her.

  They knew we were in the bedroom together, but nothing was said. That night we cooked a noodle casserole Ann had left us and I made a salad. Mathew played his guitar for us. A truce was reached between our siblings and us. Seeing it was Mathew's and my butts on the line, it was a good thing. No one was going to say anything. Mathew and I sat up late, talking. He opened a bottle of wine. When he thought it was safe, he took my hand and led me to the bedroom.

  “This must be what a date feels like,” I teased.

  “Better,” he said.

  “How so?”

  The carpet felt nice on my bare feet as he took me into his arms close to the bed.

  “I’m comfortable with you,” he said.

  “That’s taken what? Over three years or so of torturing me?”

  I pushed him away onto the bed and climbed on top of him. He grinned up at me as my hair fell towards his face. He smelled like Mathew again instead of chlorine.

  “Mathew, you freak me out by what a dick you can be,” I said and then smiled.

  “I don’t mean to be.”

  “I wonder?” I said, unbuttoning his shirt. “Have wondered more than a time or two.”

  He reached up and rested his hands on my hips.

  “Should I remind you of a few of the times?”

  “No.”

  He smiled, knowing I was going to anyway.

  “Let’s see,” I said, putting my finger to my chin. “Tahoe, Mammoth, Rio del Mar, your bathroom, last night, anything ringing a bell? That doesn’t even account for all the times in your room.”

  He reached up under my shirt, his hands warm against my skin, he felt my stomach and then went up towards my breasts, which were harnessed by a bra. He waited for me to continue. I took my shirt off over my head and he stared. I liked the look in his eyes, a longing, something I hadn’t seen. I’d seen lust, and a lot of other things, but not longing. I didn’t think the look would stay or change our status.

  “Last night?” he questioned.

  “Mathew, leave Gayle out of this, now and forever. What she did last night was for me, not for you.”

  He gave me a questioning look.

  “She knew I wanted you, so she agreed to your suggestion. Shocked the shit out of me, I might add. If you don’t believe me, ask her. I feel guilty she went along with it. So don’t go getting some big guy ego that you had two girls at the same time. So I’m perfectly clear, only one of them actually wanted you.”

  He listened without interrupting me. I knew I was stretching it a bit, but Gayle wouldn’t mind. I paused, taking my bra off as I wiggled a little lower so I was more on his crotch. He sucked in his breath and I took his hands, putting them on my breasts. I think he knew better than to talk.

  “Mathew, you have made me crazy with wanting you. Tell me you didn’t know that?”

  He reached for me, trying to pull me to him with a look of denial.

  “Fuck me, Morgan,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  His words made my crotch tingle and ache.

  “No, tell me otherwise, tell me you had no clue,” I said, resisting.

  He grinned his lazy sexy grin and I wondered if he really could make me orgasm just by kissing me.

  “Maybe a little,” he said holding up his fingers with a small gap between them.

  I poked him hard in the chest and he grunted, caught off guard. I could tell he wasn’t sure where to go from here. Where did we go from here? There hadn’t been talk of a relationship because I was just happy in the moment, and he didn’t bring it up.

  “This doesn’t change a thing ‘friend’,” I said, finally bending down to kiss him.

  I kissed his lips with little butterfly kisses. I teased around his lips with my tongue, then kissed across his face then bit and kissed his ear gently. I put my hand over his heart and felt it beating rapidly.

  “Do you ever feel a connection between us?” I asked boldly.

  “Of course I do,” he said, running his hands down my body.

  I’d asked the wrong question. I meant emotional and he took it as physical. I knew we had that. He slowly took the rest of my clothes off, laying me back on the bed. He stood and took his clothes off as I watched. Seeing him naked made my loins ache and I squeezed my legs together in anticipation as he climbed on the bed next to me.

  “I don’t have much experience in this area,” I said suddenly feeling shy.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s new between the two of us, we’ll learn.”

  He taught me things I didn’t know. He made me feel things I had only heard of and doubted to be true. He was patient, teaching me as we went along. He never made me feel like a novice. I had no doubt he was trying to make up for some of his past behavior. Between our lovemaking, we talked. The bed was like an island with just the two of us, no other influences. I didn’t want to leave it.

  “Morgan,” I heard him whisper, pulling me up from sleep.

  I felt him shaking me gently. I tried to grasp where I was. I remembered when I opened my eyes and saw his face. I rolled my body into his; hugging into his side and he wrapped his arm around me. It felt so cozy; sometime in the night we’d gotten in the covers.

  “Um,” I sighed.

  He stroked my hair lightly as he held me. I could tell by the opening in the curtain that it was starting to get light.

  “What time is it?” I asked softly.

  “Early,” he said. “We should get back to our rooms before everyone gets up. I don’t want to piss any of them off again.”

  I squished into him a little harder.

  “Can we do it one more time?” I asked sleepily.

  “Man, get you started, kid,” he chuckled, rolling onto me.

  Later, when I crawled in the guest bed alone, the smell of him lingered on me. I liked it. My crotch ached from all our lovemaking, but in a wonderful way. I would be foolish to expect this would push us into anything more than what we were, but I hoped. I finally fell into a deep sleep. I slept late. Everyone was up when I walked into the kitchen in my sweatpants and T-shirt. Mathew smiled at me.

  “Any chance I can get some coffee?” I asked no one in particular as I pulled my hair back, figuring it must look wild.

  “None made,” he said, getting up from the counter. “Your hair looks fine.”

  He pulled the pot out and filled it part way with water. I watched him as he moved, watched his hands in particular. The magic they could do. He turned the machine on.

  "I can’t believe you drink the stuff.”

  “I started about thirteen. My mom called it cowboy coffee, lots of sugar and milk, made me feel grown up. Less sugar and milk now,” I said.

  He laughed.

  “Would think cowboy coffee was the opposite, black and full of grounds.”

  “I don’t know, maybe she never had cowboy coffee, just liked the expression.”

  When the coffee had brewed, I poured myself a cup. I sat listening to the TV as I drank it. I couldn’t get last night out of my head. I wanted to ask what now, but stuffed it down instead. I knew it would just be what it was, he was either going to change things or not, and I guessed not, especially now that we were moving.

  “Mathew, we’ve got to finish getting the house cleaned up before they get back,” I said, referring to our parents.

  “I know,” he said.

  There was to be no help from Sam, Sara, or
Pat, which is what scored us their silence. Mathew and I had agreed to clean up the whole house.

  “One more cup of coffee first,” I said.

  Chapter 28

  Christmas was approaching and the weather had gotten cooler. My dad was still commuting and trying desperately to find a job in San Jose so we didn’t have to move. The house still wasn’t sold, so they lowered the price. Pat and I prayed he would find something else before it did sell.

  It was my turn to lean on Mathew, voicing my discomfort and resentment. Since Thanksgiving we had not had sex. I had not asked for any type of commitment or promise after our nights together. If I left the emotional part out, it seemed to work. One big reason was we hadn’t had any good opportunities. The physical exchanges in his room hadn’t stopped however. When I learned through Keri that he was on the trail of another girl, I decided to give up. The potential move, and his inability to see me as anything but comfortable, was too heavy a burden right now.

  “We’re friends, back to friends,” I answered Gayle when she asked me what was going on.

  “After all the shit that’s gone down, you’re friends? Friends don’t behave that way. You don’t fuck your friends, Morgan, excuse my French. You don’t expect your ‘friend's’ best friend to join in. You’re not friends,” she said, annoyed.

  I felt my face get hot and then a tightening in my throat, as the tears burned at the back of my eyes.

  “What are we then?” I lashed out as I started to cry.

  She gave me the oh, Morgan look.

  “I don’t know what you are. How can I define it?” she said calmly. “You start, you stop. You love, he doesn’t; you hate, he wants; you give in to him. Morgan, it’s crazy.”

  This wasn’t anything we hadn’t talked about or that I didn’t know. I’d had my self-loathing regarding my feelings.

  “So fucking what? So crazy is what I get with him,” I said raising my voice, the tears running down my face. “It’s all too much, besides I already told you I’m giving up. Drop it already.”