by Tammy Goaren
“Riley,” Paul said, holding back a huge sigh from the tone of his voice, “I already told you. You can ask me anything you want. The worst that I can do is say no.”
“But I really, really, really, really do not want you to say no.” Abandoning her martini, Riley clasped her fiancé’s hands in hers. “I know it might seem a bit weird, but I think we should give it a try.”
One of Paul’s hands freed itself from hers to give her nose a tweak. “I just can’t believe you waited until we were out in public to ask. That’s not like you at all.”
“Believe me,” Riley said, “I needed to get a bit drunk before I’d believe it was even possible. But Mark is only going to be in town for a few days, and I wanted to be sure that I had your blessing before bothering to think about it any more seriously.”
“My blessing? Is this the forties?” Paul laughed. With a quick squeeze of Riley’s hand, he returned his attention to his beer and the game on behind the bar. “We can talk about it more when we get back home.”
Riley leaned back, placing a finger on the rim of her glass as she continued to blush and muse about the prospect of having sex with their childhood friend.
Riley and Paul had both been born in Rockport. They grew up there and went to school there. It’s where Riley buried her father’s mother and where she intended to raise any children that she might have. It’s where, a few months before, Paul had finally proposed to her. She looked over the profile of his face as he sipped his beer. It was a good face. Riley remembered, before she ever had feelings for the man, she loved the curve at the edge of his mouth, the small furrow between his brows. She could remember the wrinkles begin to appear at the corners of his brown eyes, laugh lines betraying the age of his otherwise youthful face. His dark hair had long since started showing scattered grays, but he dyed them away. She smiled into her martini at his vanity, endeared by it all over again.
In a town like Rockport, where no one comes or leaves, where nothing changes and nothing happens except the cattle passing through, Mark had been a welcome change for both Paul and Riley back in high school. His parents had come to town looking for work, and Mark had been their sullen child, pulled along with. He hadn’t opened up easily, but he and Paul became chem lab partners, and then friends without much added effort. By the time Riley and Paul had started dating, he and Mark were best friends, and almost inseparable. They had made many memories together in the short years that they got, a small relief from the goldfish bowl lifestyle that Rockport seemed to produce.
Time went on, though, as it tends to. Paul got a job with the local butcher, and Riley divided time working at the local paper and waiting tables at her father’s restaurant. Mark had long since been working for his parents’ ranch, wrangling the cattle and herding them to sell. During the few times he had been able to get together with his friends over the past few years, he had assured them that it was nothing like what the movies made out cowboys to be. They never believed him and kept cracking their jokes. Slowly, as it goes over time, they saw each other less and less. But Paul’s marriage proposal had changed things. Everyone had been getting in touch, offering their congratulations. For most, it meant a simple message over Facebook or a text, but Mark had actually called them both separately, insisting that they meet up for old times’ sake.
‘I guess it’s not like it’s out of the blue,’ Riley thought as she lazily ran her fingers up and down the stem of her martini glass. ‘Just a friend offering his time for some old friends. I shouldn’t be reading into it at all, but…’
Paul didn’t reject her suggestion outright; that was the biggest surprise. When she had asked to bring another man into the bedroom, he had been reluctant. When she suggested Mark, he shut down and just stared. She sighed as quietly as she could. Paul was right. She should have waited to bring it up until they got home. It was a lot to sit on, though. The idea hadn’t even crossed her mind until she had gotten the call earlier that day.
“Congrats, chica! You’re finally one step closer to being a real honest woman,” Mark had said, his voice carrying the same amount of warmth it always had. Even so, she was surprised that he hadn’t dropped even a bit of the northern accent from his childhood. He always had been stubborn.
“You ready to head home?” Paul asked, pulling Riley out of her memories. Remembering the conversation that waited for them back at the house, she downed the rest of her martini and grabbed her purse.
“So,” Paul said, once they got back to his truck. “Mark.”
Riley blushed all over again as he started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot. The bar wasn’t far from the house; she had hoped that they could at least spend the short drive in embarrassed silence. “Well, I mean…” she cleared her throat and started over, pulling her chestnut hair away from her face.
“You talked to him, right? Not about this, but like, he called to congratulate us, yeah?” She waited for his nod to continue. “Well, I don’t know. We’ve talked about what it would mean to be married instead of just being, you know, us, and I think this is something that I want to try. You know, before. Just a bit of fun. And we already know Mark, and he’s gonna be passing through on his cattle drive, and I mean, it just felt like good timing you know?” Riley studied her fiancé’s face and bit off her rambling train of thought. “You’re enjoying this, you ass!”
Paul replied by bursting into sharp laughter. “You got all flustered, and it’s just too cute. I couldn’t help it. Sorry darling.”
Riley folded her arms against her chest and said, “Don’t waste your fake apologies on me. Ass.”
Paul continued laughing until they got back to the house—a cozy two bedroom place that Paul’s mother had left him. The gravel driveway and weathered porch swing had always looked like home to Riley, even before Paul had first asked her out. It felt that way even more as she and Paul walked through the door holding hands, still stuck on the same conversation.
“But you’re really serious. You want a threesome.”
“Yes. I want to try it out. And it’s something you’d also like?”
Paul sighed. “I can’t say that I’m crazy about getting in bed with a guy, but if it’ll make you happy, that’s all I want. You know that.”
Riley’s mouth became a thin line. “And if it’s Mark? Does that make it…easier maybe?”
Paul scratched his neck and looked at the wall. “I might be more…comfortable if it’s someone I know. Mark would be a good choice.”
“Why? Because he’s never in town for long? Won’t have the time to tell anyone how much you like playing with my asshole,” Riley teased with a quick wink.
Paul snorted. “Only because you like it so much.” He dug his fingers into Riley’s ribs for a quick tickle. “But really. It feels like you’ve thought about this a lot.” He pulled her to the couch and into his lap. “Are there any other fantasies of yours I can address this lovely evening?”
Riley smiled wide as his hands slipped around to grip her lower back as she leaned down for a kiss. “I’m sure I can think of a few things,” she murmured before their lips met.
Chapter 2
Riley spent the next day in a daze. It was the day they would meet up with Mark for drinks. Riley routinely ended up staring off into space, running a finger over her bottom lip, anticipating an event that might not even come to pass. More than once, she had to ask her customers repeat very simple orders. It was so out of the ordinary that even her father left the kitchen to come talk to her.
“Now sweetheart, I know you’ve got your wedding coming up, but you’ve been wandering around like you ain’t got a single wit about you,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “What’s bothering you, my dear?”
Riley swallowed back an embarrassed giggle, and launched into a huge coughing fit. It wasn’t like she could admit to her father that she was playing over dozens of dirty scenarios involving her groom-to-be and their best friend from school. Her dad sat her down and brought her a glass
of water which she accepted with a nod and a thumbs up.
“Well daddy,” she said after she got her lungs back under control, “I guess I’m just thinking over the guest list, wondering who will come…” The double entendre turned her face a brand new shade of red, somewhere between crimson and vermilion. She shook her head vigorously and cleared her throat.
“Whoever you want to, darling. It’ll be your special day,” her father said. All of his good intentions about made Riley crack up, but she maintained her bright red composure. She made a mental note to replay this entire conversation for Paul at the end of the day.
“Daddy, I’m fine. Let me finish up my shift and I promise I’ll be bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow.”
“You got it, baby girl,” he said with a wink.
As he disappeared back into the kitchen, Riley finally allowed herself her giggle fit. It took a lot of effort to draw herself back up and return to the floor with table five’s drink order, but she managed to get her composure in order for the remainder of her shift.
She got back to the house before Paul and forced herself to relax. They were going to meet up with Mark for drinks in a few hours, and Riley wanted to get herself prepared. She was going to make herself irresistible. If they managed to ask the question—which still felt like a big “if”—Riley didn’t want to even entertain the possibility of Mark being able to refuse.
She started with a bath, stripping herself bare and drawing the water. As the tub filled, she looked at herself in the mirror, trying to picture herself as someone who would proposition a man for a threesome. The thought sent a current surging through her body, straight to her pussy. The slightest touch revealed how soaking wet she was.
‘Save it,’ she cautioned herself, savoring the feeling of her fingers tracing over her clit and labia. The face she saw in the mirror barely resembled her own. It was so peaceful, so lewd but so serene. Imagining another man’s hands on her body turned her cheeks bright, and staring into her blue eyes, she saw her pupils dilate as she imagined Paul there in the same room as he watched and shared the moment. Her fingers left her wet need to find her nipples.
“Ahh.” With an audible rejection, she rocked her head from side to side. She needed to get out of this train of thought. It would happen, and she shouldn’t rush it. She eased herself into the bathtub and washed herself, doing her best not to pretend that the hands on her body were anyone’s but hers.
By the time Paul got home, Riley was drying her hair. Her favorite red dress made her skin glow, brought out the blue of her eyes. She knew the effect it could have, as Paul reminded her as he entered the bathroom.
“Jesus,” he said, taking her in. She smiled, turning of the hair dryer.
“You approve?” she asked, knowing the answer as he pulled her in for a kiss, then immediately pushing her away to look at her all over again.
“Jesus,” he repeated, burying his face in her neck.
“Whoa, whoa,” Riley made herself say. Her entire body tingled at his touch, but it wasn’t the time. “We have a date, remember?”
Paul’s face took a few hard moments to settle into acceptance. The things that lingered there until then—lust, jealousy, affection, need, and a touch more lust—almost set Riley off, but she had also accepted what the night required. Her utmost desire. It was the only thing that could beat the naughty feelings that she knew she wasn’t supposed to want so bad, but she did. She couldn’t help it. Maybe, if Paul had said it would be impossible, then maybe she would have been able to let it go. But he hadn’t. And things had come this far.
“We have to ask him tonight,” she said, her hands coming to rest at the base of his neck. She spent a moment, just feeling the muscles of his shoulders and chest. For a moment, she was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to pull away, she was so mesmerized by the feeling of his body, but he was the one that pushed her back.
“So, all of this—,” he gestured to her dress, “—is for him?”
The jealousy in his tone made every bit of warmth drain out of Riley’s body.
“Paul,” she took a step closer to him, taking his hands in hers. “This is for me. For us. All three of us.”
The look on his face…Riley bit her lip and looked away.
“We don’t have to. We haven’t even asked yet. We don’t have to. We can just have drinks, share a few laughs, and be home by midnight.” The words didn’t feel like hers, but Riley knew that they were right. If Paul didn’t want to, she couldn’t blame him. And she knew that she didn’t want to be with anyone else. Nothing was worth ruining what they had.
“Hey,” Paul said, pulling Riley out of her thoughts. “Hey, you.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close enough to kiss her forehead. “This is something that I want, too.”
The assurance was enough of a surprise that Riley pulled away. “Really?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“Of course. Do you think that I’d go through with something like this without giving it serious thought first?” His voice became a growl as he yanked her back to him, pressing his body against hers. “I want to know what it’s like to share you,” he murmured, his lips against her ear. He backed her against a wall and pressed his whole body against hers. “I want someone else to feel the parts of you that I can have whenever I want. Want him to know how fucking precious you are. How lucky I am.”
She felt as he grew hard, knew he wasn’t lying. The jealousy was there, but it only built into the arousal that they both felt. She wanted that jealousy, wanted to show him what it meant for her to enjoy fucking another man. And she would definitely enjoy it. The thrill of a new lover, feeling Paul’s love and possessiveness, feeling him let her make someone else hers. She sighed loudly into his neck, giving him a gentle push.
“Easy, tiger,” she said, her voice a soft, husky tone. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
Paul pulled away slowly, hands slipping over Riley’s waist and hips. “Okay,” he said, “but wear something comfortable. You look like you’re about to lure your third husband to his untimely death.”
Riley laughed, tension spilling out of her body. He was right. She was being too calculated. Mark was an old friend, not some kind of target. She didn’t need to seduce him, just convince him. For that to happen, she didn’t need to be some kind of sex goddess, just the Riley that he knew from back in the day. She let herself relax, traded the red dress for her more familiar blue jeans and flannel, and took her nerves down a notch. Paul wouldn’t be jealous in the ways she had feared, and the prospect of him enjoying himself as much as she would amped her libido a few more notches. She threw a fresh thong in her purse in case the restaurant talk got her too aroused.
She couldn’t help but laugh at herself. She felt like she was sixteen again, going on a date with one of her brother’s older friends. She had no idea what to expect, what to prepare for. She pulled out her makeup, knowing that blush would be the least of her needs. But it was another step of her routine, another ingredient in the formula. With the wardrobe change, the makeup was simpler. A bit of eyeliner, mascara, and maybe some lip color. She never remembered being so calculated in the past as she smeared gloss over her lips. As her lips rubbed together, she tried to remember any first date in the past that she went into with sex as the only objective. None came to mind. She hadn’t dated since high school, and those dates had been fairly tame. This time, with the goal the complete opposite, she felt mildly guilty. Like she and Paul were luring Mark into a trap.
‘Calm down, girl,’ she told herself, staring at her reflection. Paul was ready to get in the car and go, and her time to prepare was all spent. ‘He can say no, and that’s completely fine. Or he could say yes…’ As her mind took off again, Riley rubbed her neck.
“You ready to go?” Paul asked. Riley blinked, and looked away from her reflection. Standing there in the door, Paul looked like himself, but he was wringing his hands. His feet were too close together.
Riley took a moment to
smile at him. “I love you,” she said. She crossed the room to kiss him. The small token evolved into a full-tongue endeavor. She buried her face in Paul’s neck, biting at his ear, caressing the line of his jaw with her tongue.
“Love you too,” he murmured back, “but we’re about to miss our table.”
“Ah,” Riley said, breaking off. She wiped her spit from Paul’s neck with her sleeve. “Let’s go, then.”
The drive wasn’t pleasant or unpleasant, but it was definitely awkward. Riley and Paul knew exactly what they were headed towards, but no amount of talk could take the edge off of the anticipation that they felt. It was intoxicating, it was intolerable, it was a new feeling that neither of them could accurately describe. They both knew what they wanted, but it was Mark’s reaction that they needed to know, the only thing they couldn’t know.
At the restaurant, Riley and Paul sat in their booth, making meaningless conversation. Riley kept fussing with her napkin and tearing up her straw wrapper and just plain fidgeting. Paul wasn’t faring much better. His eyes kept running over the menu even though he had said three times so far that he wasn’t hungry. Riley had smiled at the lie at the time, completely capable of hearing the growl of his stomach. One of her hands stopped fidgeting long enough to take one of his and hold it between them, underneath the table. Mark walked in, and it was like all of the air in the room left.
He hadn’t changed, but he had. He had the same face, same pinched mouth, same crooked nose. His hazel eyes had adopted a new kind of squint, a new kind of scrutinizing that Riley had never seen before. That was how he looked at the both of them before he joined them: as if he was trying to figure out what it was that they wanted from him. Riley’s first thought was that he knew, but as Paul stood to give his friend a hug, Riley felt it all melt away. She hugged Mark too, and they all sat and felt the warmth of each other’s company.