And even now, as she and Jack stepped into the dimly lit restaurant where she knew Ty awaited them, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Would she allow herself this ultimate forbidden liaison? Or would this be the one thing to which she’d say no?
After Jack informed the host that they were meeting a friend, they entered the plush dining room to find Ty in a small half-round booth. He was as ruggedly handsome as Liz remembered, a lock of dark blonde hair falling over his forehead, a darker stubble on his chin. He waved and smiled when he spotted them.
Jack led her across the big, high-ceilinged room where each table glowed with candlelight and a jazz trio played in one corner. As they approached the table, a little of the nervousness Liz had expected to feel came back to her.
Ty got up to greet them. He wore dark pants and a sports coat, a white shirt underneath with a few buttons undone. “Great to see you again,” he said to Liz, holding out his hand. She offered her own and he bestowed a delicate kiss upon it. Despite her nervousness, a tingling awareness skittered through her body.
She sat down between the two men and instantly felt them there, surrounding her. That quickly, it was as if sex were a palpable, living thing and as if it were squeezed into the small booth along with them. The sensation reminded Liz vaguely of what she’d felt that very first day, meeting both of them in Jack’s office—together, they’d seemed to fill the room with heat and testosterone. Only now did she realize that somehow these two men, together, were truly a sexual force to be reckoned with. No wonder they’d gone after the same women in college; no wonder they wanted to share one. It was almost as if the two of them gave off an accelerated, amped-up sexual energy that was much greater than the sum of its parts.
Somehow, as the day had gone on, as she’d both feared and anticipated this event, she’d envisioned Ty coming on strong, being blatant and blunt, making her uncomfortable. But now, as he drew her easily into conversation, she was instantly reminded he was a pleasant, smooth-talking man. “Have you eaten here before, Liz?”
She shook her head. “No, but Jack tells me it’s wonderful.”
Ty nodded reassuringly. “This is one of my favorite restaurants in the Quarter. You can’t go wrong with anything on the menu. The Italian entrees are especially good, but they make nice Creole dishes, too.”
Liz took the initiative to change the conversation to something a little more personal. “You know, I can’t help noticing you don’t possess the same Cajun accent as Jack, but he hasn’t mentioned where you’re from.”
He smiled. “Unlike Jack, I’m a transplant. I came down on a scholarship to Tulane and never left. I grew up in Lansing, Michigan, but I’m a Cajun at heart.” He concluded with a friendly wink. “Jack says you’re from Maryland?”
She nodded and wondered if Jack had told his friend why she’d moved to the Big Easy, and what he’d investigated for her. She decided to steer clear of that unpleasant topic. “I’ve been here for six months, but before meeting Jack I really hadn’t had the opportunity to get out and enjoy the town very much.”
“And do you like it?”
“More and more all the time,” she said, again wondering exactly how much Jack had told Ty about their recent string of evenings together.
But that didn’t matter, she reminded herself. Because she regretted nothing she’d done with Jack and she wasn’t ashamed of it, either. And if she and Jack were going to invite Ty into their bed tonight, it was probably better that he knew a little of her recent sexual history.
She bit her lip, realizing with amazement that she was truly considering a threesome with Jack and his best friend. The very thought made her nipples pucker against the gathered fabric of her dress.
After they ordered dinner and a bottle of wine had arrived, Ty excused himself to the restroom, and Jack took the opportunity to place his hand on Liz’s thigh. He leaned nearer. “What do you think of Ty?”
She smiled at her sexy lover in the shadowy room. “He’s nice. Friendly.”
Jack nodded.
“How much did you tell him? About me, I mean. About us.”
He shrugged. “Enough for him to know what kind of entertainment we’ve been enjoyin’ together. Not enough that we don’t have any secrets.”
Secrets. She liked that, the idea of Jack and her having secrets from the rest of the world, the idea that Jack wanted them to have things that remained just between them. Somehow the thought put her more at ease with the concept of a three-way.
“Like I told you earlier, though, chere, it’s all up to you. No pressure. Whatever you want to do. I want to make you happy, want to make you feel good, want to do whatever will leave you the most pleasured in the end.” He concluded with a sexy smile and a caress to her thigh that shot straight to her pussy.
He lowered a soft kiss to her lips just as Ty returned from the bathroom.
As Ty scooted back into the booth, Liz thought perhaps he situated himself a little closer to her than he’d been before. It was probably a matter of centimeters, but his knee touched hers now, his thigh brushed against hers on the leather seat. On her other side, Jack sat close, his fingers still gingerly stroking her leg, just above her knee. The thought made her look down, made her see the dress that had risen more than halfway up her thighs upon sitting, so that the lace edges of her stockings were almost visible. She considered pulling it down, but as a ribbon of excitement wove through her cunt, she changed her mind.
That ribbon of excitement and awareness stretched taut over the course of their meal. It was nothing anyone said or did—conversation flowed normally as the men discussed sports, friends they had in common, their work, and Liz talked about her job a bit, too. No, it was how close each man sat on either side of her, the way her legs touched both of them beneath the table, making her sensitive and ultra-aware of each shift or movement anyone made. Adding to that was the way they did discuss normal things, acting as if a subtle form of foreplay weren’t slowly beginning to take place beneath the tablecloth.
The very act of eating became sensuous, given the sexual tension pulling at Liz from both sides. Her entire body began to feel overly-sensitized. Each soft, warm bite she took of the lasagna she’d ordered, each time she closed her lips around one of the garlic sticks that came along with it, made her more aware of her mouth, her tongue, the movements of her hands. Each drink of wine seemed to slither down through her body. Even the smooth stem of the wine glass in her hand turned into something sensual, so that she found herself running her fingers up and down its length. She felt both men watching her throughout the meal, perhaps becoming as aware of these things as she was.
After they’d eaten and their plates were taken away, Jack returned his hand to her inner thigh, higher this time, his fingers delivering a maddeningly soft caress through her stocking. When she attempted to place her napkin on the table and instead accidentally dropped it underneath, Ty reached down to retrieve it. As he rose back up, he let both his hand and the napkin graze her calf all the way past her knee.
“Thank you,” she said, sounding a bit breathy as he returned it to the tabletop. At that precise moment, Jack’s silky touch rose slightly higher. She parted her legs a little, unwittingly pressing her other thigh more directly against Ty’s. The contact made her look up at him—his eyes held a hint of awareness, a hint of fire. But they also reminded her of what Jack kept saying—this was up to her. The men would follow her lead, she supposed. So even as she lowered her gaze, not quite able to maintain the intensely close contact with Ty, she licked her upper lip and made no move to shift her body away, and hoped that told him she was interested in at least a little more of this experience.
“So, what’s your pleasure, darlin’?” Jack asked with a hint of raw sensuality that made it impossible not to hear the double meaning of the question.
Let’s go back to your place. All three of us. I want this, want both of you on me, in me. But Liz couldn’t say those things, not yet. She still wasn’t completely sure. “L
et’s stroll Bourbon Street,” she said instead, thinking a little more time with both of them would help her decide.
“Sounds good,” Ty said.
“Let’s hit Café duMonde on the way,” Jack suggested, “and pick up some beignets for dessert. We can eat ‘em on the walk up to Bourbon. Might get some to save for later, too. You know how I like my carbs,” he added with a wink in Liz’s direction.
Beignets from Café duMonde were one New Orleans treat Liz had learned to love very soon after her arrival in town. Although she’d never ventured too deep into the French Quarter before meeting Jack, she’d come to the Café duMonde with girls from work from the start.
As she and her two escorts ate the sweet, sugar-covered confections on the stroll to the party district, they soon found their clothing dusted and streaked with the heavy powdered sugar, and all three of them broke into easy laughter. “As my grandemaman used to say, you can dress us up, but you can’t take us out,” Jack imparted, and Liz found herself loving his easy-going manner. Even as he escorted her to an elegant dinner, he was not as proper and stodgy as Todd, not afraid to eat a messy dessert and laugh about it.
Once the beignets were gone, they dusted themselves off, and Jack kindly licked Liz’s fingers clean, sending a lovely little tingle to her already sensitized cunt. A part of her was almost tempted to playfully offer the same service to Ty, but it was still too soon—despite how much fun she was having with both of them, she still wasn’t ready to take that next step.
By the time they reached Bourbon Street, it was hopping. Crowds of people roamed the streets, neon lights lit the night, and music of all kinds—Cajun, blues, jazz, and rock—blared from open doors and windows. People wore cheap beads of purple, green, and gold, and held brightly-colored drinks or bottles of beer. Mardi Gras had been last month, but Liz thought the place still seemed wild and charged with an invisible sexual energy, an energy which she was beginning to realize was always here, part and parcel of the French Quarter.
When the trio stopped at a small, open air daiquiri bar for drinks, Liz’s attention was drawn to a group of four or five thirty-something men smoking cigars and whistling when a group of sexy, scantily-clad college-aged girls meandered past.
One of the girls looked back with a bold, saucy smile. “I want your beads,” she said to the men, who were wearing a variety of them.
“You know what you have to do,” one of them replied, laughing.
“Show ‘em to us, baby,” another guy said.
The girl came back to where the men stood, reaching down to the hem of her skimpy top and pulling it up to reveal a pair of large, pretty breasts with smallish nipples of dark mauve.
“Nice,” one of the men said in a lecherous voice.
“Beautiful tits, sweetheart,” another offered.
She smiled, obviously pleased to show off her assets, and kept her top raised as each of the men surrendered some of their beads, placing them around her neck.
“A pleasure doing business with you,” she said, finally lowering her top and turning to catch up with her friends.
Liz couldn’t help watching the scene with a strange, unbidden fascination. Even as intimate as she’d been with Jack and as she might soon be with Ty, she couldn’t relate to the desire to flash your breasts for fifty-cent beads. Although she might not have realized it at first, the things she’d done with Jack had always been about more than sex between strangers. Even so, watching the girl lift her top for the men’s pleasure had added subtly to her arousal. Clearly, like everything so hedonistic about this city, flashing for beads was not restricted only to Mardi Gras.
“I don’t know about you guys,” one of the men said to his buddies as Liz continued watching, “but I’m ready to hit a strip joint.”
The others laughingly agreed and they wasted no time heading into Club Venus, just across the street.
Just then, Ty approached, handing her a drink, their fingers brushing during the exchange. Jack was still at the bar, paying. “Thanks,” she said softly. She met Ty’s brown eyes briefly, but again, it was too intense for her, so she shifted her gaze away, back across the street, where a lovely young girl in a micro-mini dress and sexy high heels stood next to the doorman, saying, “Come on in, gentlemen.”
“Are you a dancer?” one of them asked, sounding drunker than the rest.
She nodded. “I’ll be on the main stage in about twenty minutes, so you’d better get a good seat so you can give me lots of tips.” She giggled in conclusion.
“You bet we will, sugar,” the drunk guy said. “I want to see your tits.”
“What next?”
Liz flinched at Jack’s voice in her ear. She’d become entranced by the happenings across the street—by the open sexuality displayed here. No one was shy or reticent; no one was anything but eager and honest about it. Perhaps, Liz reasoned, it had been this erotic atmosphere that had first opened her mind to the things she’d done over the last few days. Perhaps it was so intoxicating that anyone would respond as she had, opening herself up for all these new sexual experiences. But one look at Jack reminded her again—no, this was more than that. He treated her with so much more respect than those guys going into the bar showed the women willing to bare it all for them. He was so good and sweet to her, so committed to pleasuring her as much or more than himself. And she wanted to pleasure him just as much in return.
She knew in that moment she wouldn’t say no to his desire for a threesome. In fact, she would embrace it, would love sharing it with him, would dive into it with the same eager honesty about sex that was all around her on naughty Bourbon Street.
“What do you want to do now, chere?” Jack asked again when she didn’t answer.
She flicked her gaze to Ty, then back to Jack. “Let’s stop into Club Venus for a little while.”
The fresh heat in Jack’s gaze was unmistakable. “Sure thing, darlin’.”
Jack placed his hand at the small of her back and the three of them proceeded across the street.
The only seats available were a couple of small plush chairs in front of the main stage. Ty took one, and Liz sat across Jack’s lap in the other. On the stage, the Britney Spears look-alike she’d seen here before gyrated around a pole. Her blonde hair hung in two braids and the blouse tied at her waist was sheer enough to provide a good view of her dark nipples.
As the stripper teased the audience by pulling up her short plaid skirt just enough to show the tops of her lace stockings and garter belt, Ty leaned over and spoke softly. “Jack tells me you have excellent taste in women.”
Don’t blush, she commanded herself. “Yes, he seems to think so.”
“So, if I wanted a lap dance, who would you pick for me?”
Liz’s pussy went warm beneath her dress.
She scanned the room—the strippers on the various stages, and the girls already naked and giving lap dances. Her eyes were drawn to a girl she hadn’t seen there on her previous visits—an exotic looking brunette with long, dark, straight hair, pert medium-sized breasts, and a sexy dark tan. She currently danced on one of the smaller stages in a black leather mini-skirt and high black boots. Tan lines outlined her breasts and drew attention to them.
“Her,” Liz said, pointing.
Both guys looked and Ty offered a heated little smile. “Jack was right. Nice choice.”
They returned to silence then, all of them watching the schoolgirl shed her blouse and caress her breasts as she shimmied and swayed for them. Jack’s cock grew against Liz’s thigh, and the combined visual and physical sensations made her wet. Her nipples felt like little bullets against the snug dress and she almost wished she hadn’t suggested they come here, that she’d simply had the courage to go back to Jack’s place where she could be with them both—now.
Instead, though, she shifted her gaze to the girl she’d selected for Ty, who was sensually wiggling out of her leather skirt, leaving her in another of the flesh-colored g-strings utilized by Club Venus. As the p
retty stripper continued her sensual dance, tweaking her nipples, running long, slender fingers around her barely-concealed pussy, she noticed Ty was watching, too. Jack’s eyes remained on the main stage, and strangely, Liz had the sensation that watching the other girl was something she and Ty were sharing.
The moment the girl’s number came to a close, Ty calmly raised a finger, as if he were signaling a waiter, and despite the crowd, the stripper saw him immediately. Still in high-heeled boots and g-string, she made her way over to where they sat.
“How much?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with a slow heat.
Although he’d not specified a lap dance, the girl seemed to know what he meant. “Twenty.”
He curled his index finger toward him, as if saying, Come here.
The pretty girl smiled, wasting no time straddling Ty in the small chair.
* * * * *
Jack watched as the hot brunette Liz had selected writhed sensually in Ty’s lap. His friend leaned back, looking drunk on her, his eyes roaming her face, her breasts, her thighs spread across his with only a miniscule g-string covering her cunt.
Liz watched, too, and he knew all three of them were getting hotter and hotter, primed for what was to come. And even as entranced as Ty appeared to be with the stripper in his lap, Jack knew his friend was anticipating sharing Liz with him in a little while. And Liz would say yes—he knew that, too. He’d seen an anxious little light in her eye when she’d suggested they come into the strip bar.
When he’d told Ty about what might happen between them and Liz, his friend had at first been disbelieving, and then awed. Not only because of the long-time fantasy they’d harbored, but also because Jack was willing to share her.
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