by Kate Messick
“No, it wouldn’t.” I press my hand on the table to emphasize my point. “One person can’t be your all-everything. It’s why we’re having issues, Steven. I’m not suddenly blind and deaf. And I have been acting like it for years. I deserve to feel beautiful. I used to love flirting; you did too.”
“I tell you that you’re beautiful all the time,” Steven declares.
“Yes, you say the words you have been trained to say. But I want to feel it.”
“Maybe we should head out,” Joe sticks in.
“Dillon, you know about this stuff. Help me.”
Dillon’s eyes go wide. “I can recommend a therapist.” I look at him pleadingly and he quickly continues. “I also believe that you can’t put all your eggs in one basket. That’s why we make friends and social connections. My mom has said that her marriage to Dad only survived because she was working and had things outside of her marriage to keep her happy. Not that she was unhappy in her marriage,” Dillon quickly back-peddles. “I really don’t want to get into the middle of this.”
“I’m not working. My only friends are in this room … except for some other parents that I’m not sure I would have met if we both didn’t have kids at the same park,” I say, my voice raised.
“We love you Mommy.” I feel Matilda’s arms wrap around my leg and realize that I have stood up. I take a deep breath and rub her head with my hand.
“I love you too Mati.” I look at Seven. He has also stood up and is looking uncomfortable. I continue in a calmer voice. “Steven, you don’t flirt with me. You have been amazing with the girls these last few weeks. But if I can’t be free to flirt with even imaginary men in a D&D game, and you don’t take the time to do it, then what do I have left?”
“They are not imaginary, they are Joe. And you don’t go out with the friends you do have,” Steven deflects.
“I don’t, you’re right,” I say prissily. “We have talked about this. And I’m working on it. Sandy, I would love to see your pictures of the formal. Do you want to go get a glass of wine after this?”
“Sandy has plans,” Steven points out.
“I would love to get a glass of wine,” Sandy interrupts. “Joe and Dillon can wait. And if you need more than just wine, you can join us after.”
I see Steven’s face go a little pale at the idea. I can just imagine his little brain putting together Sandy’s announcement of dating both Joe and Dillon, with some creative scenarios. I’m not interested in either of them, but let him sweat. I peel Matilda off me, pick her up with a kiss, and hand her to Steven.
“I’ll be back in a little bit,” I say to her. “You know how sometimes you and Jenny fight, and I send you to different corners of the house?”
Matilda nods, her big eyes wide.
“Mommy and Daddy need to do the same thing.” Zack chuckles and I walk over to Sandy and put out my arm. “Shall we?”
Sandy grins and looks right at Steven. “Just the wine? Or will you be joining us this evening?” Her voice is flirtatious.
I could kiss Sandy in this moment. Let Steven stew on that. “I’m not sure yet,” I say loudly as I pick up my purse and shove on a random pair of shoes. “Let’s see where the night takes us.”
Chapter Seventy-Six
Reality, Dillon’s Apartment, Solar Row
A small Nintendo Wii Console with some accessories sits below Dillon’s flat-screen TV, which is on top of his speaker system in the living room. His small collection of games and accessories for it are stacked neatly to one side. Un-shelved, it gives off the feeling that he is just not truly committed to his gaming choice.
Dillon Dempsy
A burst of cold air hits my face as my front door opens and shuts. I can’t pull my eyes away from the screen as our light-saber battle is in full swing. I hit my key combos perfectly and I can hear Joe’s mad button mashing as he dodges out of the way.
“It’s just me,” Sandy calls into the room. “Do you have any wine open?”
Neither of us answer and I hear footsteps walk further into my house.
“You slippery bastard,” Joe grumbles. “How do you even do that?”
I rattle off the sequence of squares and triangles, more to infuriate him than anything else. As I knew he would, Joe’s Jedi goes down just as Sandy comes into the room with a glass of wine.
“Where is my glass?” Joe asks.
“Men who answer questions get glasses of wine,” Sandy says smartly. She steps over my legs and makes herself comfortable between us.
Joe has brought up the menu of button combinations and is reading through them.
“How is Lynda?” I ask.
“Conflicted and upset,” she says. “I wish Steven was a more secure guy. Or Joe wasn’t so hot. Wait, no I like that part.”
“Steven doesn’t have anything to worry about with me,” Joe states. “I have my eyes on another man’s girl.”
“Who?” Sandy asks, scandalized.
“The man or the woman?” he asks the TV screen. Joe isn’t much of a multi-tasker.
“They will work through it,” I say. “Lynda needs to make Steven feel more secure by giving him more of her time and he needs to trust her more.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Sandy mutters.
“Da-da-dun dun-dun-da-da,” My doorbell has its own ringtone. I love it.
“That must be the pizza.” I look expectantly at Joe.
“I bought the Chinese,” Sandy says, in my arms.
Joe grumbles and goes to the door. I let my fingers drift under Sandy’s sweater, and she looks up at me. I lean down and steal a quick kiss as Joe comes in with several boxes.
“I figured we’re feeding Sandy for the week as usual, so I ordered extra,” I advise.
“You could have bloody paid for it too,” Joe grumbles.
“What did you get?” Sandy moves out of my arms to inspect the boxes.
We all dig in and after a slice, Sandy takes my controller from me and challenges Joe. I can still feel Sandy’s skin under my fingers as I watch the two button mashers duke it out on Yoda and General Grievous. The battle ends and Sandy picks up another piece of pizza, but doesn’t give up the controller, also exploring the game’s menu.
“Hey, there’s a capture-the flag mode,” she points out. “And a story line for three players. Do you have another controller?”
“No,” I say absently.
“Is there any reason to only have two?” she asks me.
I share a brief look with Joe. “I guess not. The system just comes with the two,” I reply with a shrug.
“Cool, I can get my own if it’s a big deal,” Sandy says.
I bite into my pizza and sit back as Joe and Sandy start another round. Why not have three controllers? It’s that simple, right?
Joe Smartin
We have played a few different games, though Dillon’s controller situation means just two people play at a time. I don’t mind too much. Dillon’s fancy futon goes flat so he has an extra bed and, on Sandy’s request, we have it lying flat. Sandy is stretched out across it on her stomach, her knees bent and ankles crossed. Her controller is in her hands, arms propped up on her elbows with a pillow under her chest for support. Dillon and I sit on the edges of the futon on either side of her.
As it’s not my turn with a controller, I happily move myself further back and let my hands wander over Sandy. Pretty innocently at first. But as they start up another car race, I feel the blood flow descend from my brain to below my belt and I let my hands wander over the back of her thighs, dipping my fingers into her tight crevice between her crossed legs. I moved each of my knees to either side of her and give her a proper lower back and butt massage.
Dillon kicks her ass and whoops as he crosses the finish line. I smirk, pretty sure Sandy isn’t aware that the race has ended. Her controller drops from her fingers as I move my hands up her back.
“What happened?” Dillon asks.
He turns to see Sandy literally melting betwe
en my legs. Well, it was my hands doing it. But I liked the idea that my dick could do the same thing.
“Joe cheated,” she moans.
I find a knot in her upper back and can hear it pop as I let my thumbs gently rub it away.
“Ouch. Did that hurt?” Dillon asks.
“No, haven’t you had a massage before?” she asks lazily.
“Actually, no.”
“What?” both Sandy and I ask at the same time.
“I’m not defending myself,” he states. “And Joe, you don’t look like a massage person either.”
“Every week, sometimes twice,” I answer. “They call them sports massages and they are specifically targeted for weightlifters. But I find it relieves a lot of work stress.”
“I had no idea that was a thing,” Dillon responds.
I move my elbow onto one of Sandy’s tighter knots and the moan she lets out has my dick twitching. I glance over at Dillon and he’s leaning back against the pillows we stacked up on the couch arm.
“Enjoying the show?” I ask, unsure if this is hot or not. Dillon seems perfectly happy to just watch me fondle Sandy. And Sandy seems pretty happy to just be fondled. Not a situation I ever expected to be in, and it has taken some time, but I’ve decided I’m curious enough.
“You have no idea,” Dillon answers quietly.
I hear another pop in Sandy’s back and she starts wriggling out from under me.
“I’m not done,” I growl, happily distracted from my own thoughts. I easily clamp my hands around her waist to keep her in place.
“Do Dillon first and then I’ll be your willing subject,” she says playfully.
I raise an eyebrow as Sandy finishes wriggling off the couch and starts pushing Dillon into the spot she just vacated.
“I like watching you,” he protests.
“Joe is amazing. I just remembered this. And you always tell me that knowledge is meant to be shared,” Sandy tells him.
I’m still kneeling on the futon, a little awkwardly, unsure what my role in this should be.
“Joe didn’t agree to this,” Dillon protests again, this time meeting my eyes.
“Maybe his first time should be with a professional,” I advise. Not that I’m uncomfortable giving another man a back rub, but it will be a little awkward, considering Sandy had started to give me a hard on.
“I guess I can’t make either of you.” Sandy pouts.
“But if Dillon is down, I guess I’m ok with it,” I say to make her smile return. It never hurts to test the limits of friendship, right? Sandy light ups and Dillon, grudgingly, lies down in front of me. I don’t straddle Dillon like I did Sandy, but I quickly find knots in his back. Lots of them. Dillon’s back is narrow for a man’s, his waist tapered. I lean into the points on either side of his spine and slowly drag down. I find it addictive, popping the little knots of stress, and Dillon has so many.
“Dude,” I say after a few minutes. So much stress. “What’s wrong with you?”
“This feels amazing,” he groans with pleasure.
I look up at Sandy she’s quietly watching, a faint glow to her cheeks.
I spend about fifteen minutes working Dillon’s back before gesturing Sandy to lie down next to him.
“Deal is a deal,” I point out.
Sandy Yuhi
“Deal is a deal,” Joe says.
He doesn’t have to say it twice. “Take off your sweater so I have better access.” I’m not sure if he really needs that, but I won’t complain.
Dillon’s head swings around to watch me pull off my sweater. The shifting menu screen of the game we had been playing lights my bare skin. My bra is lacy black with some extra black straps that accent my under-bust nicely. I make sure they both get an eyeful before I quickly lie down next to Dillon.
Joe moves across both of us to straddle my back again. His magic hands start at my lower back. The pressure of my bra is relieved as he unhooks it, kneading big circles as he moves up my backside. I try to stifle my moan of pleasure, but I can’t. His hands reach my shoulders and his hips drop, his erection pokes into my butt. I turn my head to find Dillon’s gleaming eyes watching us. I know Dillon likes to watch and I slowly grind my butt upward, my intentions clear.
Watching Joe’s hands all over Dillon has turned me on a lot more than I want to admit. As I deliberately move my butt up again, Joe grunts and his hands go from platonic masseuse to heated as he lightly runs them along my sides. He brushes the sides of my breasts before settling on my hips. I raise myself up on my knees, Joe joining me. My bra straps fall to the futon, displaying my naked front to Dillon.
My eyes don’t leave Dillon’s face as Joe runs his hands up the front of my body. They trace their way up my stomach and then across my chest before traveling down again. He gently nibbles at the back of my neck.
Dillon shifts, messing with his pants as Joe hooks his finger into my skirt. I move to help him remove it when he hesitates. “Don’t think too much, Joe,” I say quietly.
Joe’s eyes unfocus for a second and then I hear him breathe “fuck it” as he pulls off his shirt. I roll onto my back, undressing my legs. Joe’s muscled chest presses into my own as he lays back down, mostly on top of me, and his mouth nibbles my ear before he kisses his way down my neck. Large, warm hands run up my sides and pinch and rub my swollen nipples.
I bite my lower lip and look over at Dillon. He has moved more pillows behind his back and rotated his hips so he his seated against the arm of the futon, facing us, caressing his crotch. I move towards him, dragging Joe with me and help him unzip his pants. Dillon’s erection springs into his hand, his eyes taking us in with obvious pleasure.
Joe brings his chiseled chest along my back. “I’ve never done anything like this.” His voice is raspy in my ear as his hands leave fire where they lightly traced my curves. I can hear conflict in his voice.
“Me either,” I admit.
Joe must have taken care of his pants himself while I helped Dillon. I feel the soft skin of his rock-hard appendage poke between my legs. I’m a little ashamed of the amount of moisture already there, but not enough to hide it. I spread my legs and reach down, pressing his length against my clit. I rock myself, enjoying Joe’s hands and Dillon’s eyes before I fall forward onto all fours, and the tip of Joe’s erection teases my entrance.
I bite my lower lip as Joe’s large girth fills me slowly. Dillon’s pumps his cock in time with Joe’s thrusts. I relax my lower back as Joe’s hands guide my hips. The top of each stroke connecting with my clit.
“More,” I hear myself moan and Joe gestures for me to move onto my side, my front facing Dillon. One of my legs stays against the flat surface of the couch and Joe guides the other up onto his shoulder. He puts two fingers against my clit and presses his face into the top of my calf, kissing and rubbing.
“Fuck Sandy,” he groans as he pushes into me again and again. Faster and faster. Joe’s fingers find that magical nub, my clit.
“More,” I cry as I feel my orgasm coming. I bit my lip and tense as it hits. My eyes closed, I ride the wave my muscles tensing as Joe swell inside of me. I squirm from the intensity of it. When I open my eyes, I meet Dillon’s aroused gaze, his hand still working his own shaft. I see the question in his eyes. “Don’t you dare ask.” My voice is breathy from pleasure.
With a grunt, Dillon moves toward us and let’s himself go on my chest, the hot stream of cum mixing with the sweat between my breasts. His eyes briefly meet Joes. I feel Joe lay down behind me and kiss the back of my neck. I turn and lock his lips with mine. When I turn back Dillon has tucked in and zipped up but he sits cross legged in front of us. His hand moves to the cum he left on my chest and he puts his finger in it and swirls it around my nipples. I flinch, everything is always so over sensitive after I have had my own orgasm.
“Does that hurt?” Dillon asks.
“No, I’m just sensitive.”
“Sensitive is good,” Dillon grins, remembering our conversation abo
ut his personality weeks ago.
I laugh and my hand finds Joe’s to give it a squeeze. I will let him in on the joke later.
“So, this isn’t weird at all.” The sarcasm in Joe’s words is clear.
“I’ll put the pizza away,” Dillon offers. “My guest shower is on the second floor, second door on the right. Um, you’re welcome to use it or just the towels, or whatever. I didn’t really plan on this, so I don’t have anything on this floor.”
“Right,” Joe says.
As Dillon takes the pizza to the kitchen, Joe stands and pulls me up with him. I giggle as we go up the stairs. He turns on the small guest shower. “Wash my back?”
“If you wash mine,” I respond with a wink.
We start to clean each other. Joe inspects my chest like Dillon’s cum might have stained it.
“I don’t think it’s poisonous,” I state. “And I’m pretty sure it all washed off when I first came in.”
“Right,” he says.
I can tell he’s flustered. I really hope this doesn’t mess up what we have. I hear a knock on the door … and Dillon walks in as if his two best friends are not naked in the shower.
“You forgot your clothing.” He puts down the toilet lid and sets the pile on top and leaves, closing the bathroom door behind him.
“Right,” Joe says again.
“Right,” I mimic him and laugh. God, I hope we don’t start acting any weirder.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Reality, Bela Casa Construction, Home Development
By December all of the Front Range is lit up with holiday cheer. Lights decorate every major street and houses are outlined with colors. Although holiday cheer is easy to see during the day, it’s at night that the creativity with LEDs and music dazzles your senses.