"Love (and Lust) is in the Air"
Ever get a feeling of intense guilt when you’re not sure exactly what it is that you’re supposed to be guilty of, a sense that an apology is demanded in a situation where you’re dead certain an apology would only make things worse? Oil on water, Jahn thought, gaping at the shrieking girl before him. Woman, he mentally corrected himself. Both of them, however small and slender they were, could not be mistaken for anything other than women. That had been a draw for him; so many of the girls he’d met made themselves up to look like that… girls who’d never moved beyond high school or college, trying to recapture their glory days by hanging out with younger friends, gossiping about fads they didn’t really care about, wearing clothes that didn’t really fit them. Some of the guys he knew from the U were the same. Sad. Like a refusal to accept adulthood and the responsibilities that came with it, a failure to understand that some of the greatest perks came with it too. Accomplishment. Respect. A sense that you were part of the world around you.
So here he was, cock out and philosophizing like a pretentious prick on the nature of adult behavior while the half-sister of his cowering and nude girlfriend screamed at him. Focus a little, he thought.
Not actually screaming at him, he realized… the ranting was directed entirely at Jenny. Largely incoherent, a tirade of invective and accusation that, with no little discomfort, called to mind his experience with Andrea a month back. Different, though. There was some anger in it, but when he looked at her face, at the creases of skin at the corner of her high, delicate cheekbones and expressive brown eyes, he saw what seemed to be a great deal of hurt in her face. Sense of betrayal, he wondered? Why? They hadn’t gone out much, and their last few dates had carried an uncomfortable level of distraction, as if she was anywhere but with him. Jahn had liked her a great deal, of course, but felt as if whatever small relationship they’d developed had no chance of going anywhere. Little wonder that he’d accepted Jenny’s overtures without a second thought…
Turning his attention back to his girlfriend, he saw that Jenny had retreated onto the bed, pulling up a sheet to cover her nude body, knuckled fist to her mouth, staring at Fiona with wide blue eyes. Pink blossomed on her cheeks, which was different – Jenny wasn’t prone to embarrassment. Shame? Why? Something Fiona was saying.. something about her father, he thought... hit home, and tears began brimming at the corner of the blonde’s eyes. He hadn’t the slightest idea of how to reconcile this situation peacefully, and it seemed to be reaching an ever nastier meltdown point. Reaching for his shirt, he ducked his head beneath it for a too-short time, and pulled it down, covering himself at least marginally.
Fiona’s yelling hardly abated, and she threw of something about “… supposed to be my first” that left him mystified, until she stopped cold, her lightly tanned skin going a dusky scarlet of mortification as her attention shifted to him, only now realizing that he was still in the room. Oh fuck, he thought, pieces of their conversation the first time he’d come to the Reed home flitting back to him. A lot of things about the way she’d acted on their dates suddenly became clearer. It occurred to him that while she was more mature, she was a lot like Jenny – they had the same taste in men, and they were both really into him. And apparently both virgins, for some inexplicable reason, waiting for the right guy to come along. Who happened to be him, he supposed. Jenny, however, was way more outgoing and charismatic. All over him almost from the start, it had only taken her a little alcohol to broach the subject after they’d dated for a week. Fiona, though... she was a lot more introverted, a trait he’d put down to being more thoughtful and less impulsive. Truth was that she seemed more like Jahn - she was hesitant about making the first move, afraid of being too forward and putting him off, or simply fearing rejection.
Wasn’t that she didn’t want to be around him, but that she was unsure how to move their relationship forward from the casual dates they’d enjoyed together. How much of that had she told Jenny? Too little? He knew they were close, and that didn’t seem likely. Maybe just enough that Jenny wasn’t willing to wait around while she figured it out. Jahn hoped he wasn’t just rationalizing his girlfriend’s actions, because it felt… cruel… and the look on Jenny’s face told him she’d intended anything but cruelty toward her sister. Whatever stray fantasies might flash through his brain, he desperately wanted Jenny to be The One, and while some insensitivity could be accepted, he didn’t want to think she could be that callous. A guy he’d thought was a good friend had done that to him once. Listened to him pour his heart out over a beer, about Amber from Psych class, then proceeded to sleep with her two days later. Prick. Scratch one friendship.
Wandering thoughts dispersed like quicksilver as Fiona stalked out of the room, brunette tresses whipping behind her with the motion. Jenny was openly sobbing now, her face screwed up with humiliation and shame, and he moved forward to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“I d-didn’ mean t-to,” she rattled out, tears running down her cheeks. “Wasn’ like that. I m-mean Ahg-guess I kn-new that she liked you and tha, that she might like to keep going out with you, but she said she wasn’ sure you liked her and…” she trailed off, biting her lip. “I just, you were so nice, and fun, and cute, and I really liked you too. I’m n-not a bad person, am I?” She looked at him appealingly, and he fidgeted in discomfort.
With a squeeze on her shoulder that he meant for reassurance, he offered, “You’re not a bad person, Jen, and I don’t like you any less. I don’t know if whatever you did was wrong or not, but I know that we all make mistakes. That’s something you have to work out with her, not me.”
Jenny stared down at the bed, tear-streaked face still working, but somewhat more composed. “She’s my b-best friend, Jahn. The ‘half’ doesn’t mean anything; she’s my Sis. N-neither of us really had a father around the house, but we had Mom and each other. Even when Mom went travelling after we entered college, we still had each other.” A sniffle escaped, and she rubbed at her face. “I don’t want to-, I can’t lose her. Family’s more important than anything. I l-like you. So much. Not just the s-sex.. I don’t want to lose you either, but…”
His heart seized up in his chest, because he could feel the train coming, warning bell ringing in his head. “…b-but if it means losing my Sis, I don’t want to see you anymore.” Fresh tears stirring in her eyes, she looked at him, whispering, “P-please don’t hate me.”
Vice-like, his chest seemed to constrict further, but he managed anyway, pulling her to him in a one-armed embrace, “I’ll never hate you, Jen. Talk to her, and do whatever you need to do. I don’t want you to be hurt over me.” He thought of his older brother, off in college while Jahn was still young, doing those mysterious adult things, but always coming home with a little advice or just to spend time with his little brother. Family first. “I couldn’t hate you for that, ever.” ***
Great sentiment, he thought bitterly. Movie-of-the-week moment, for sure. Was he even able to have a relationship without it turning into a complete train-wreck? Clothing himself, he left the Reed house, glancing at the cloudless sky. Gonna be a cold, lonely winter, he thought bleakly. Even the neighborhood seemed to have taken on a dark and unwelcoming pall, a heavy-set man across the street scowling at him as he shoveled snow from his driveway.
Jahn had long told himself that he wasn’t going to be a drinker, but if this kept up, he might just fall into the bottle with whole heart. The stupor of animated violence just wouldn’t carry him anymore, and the drudgery of the working week didn’t seem to dull the anxiety that had taken root. ***
When his cell finally rang nearly a week later, he recognized the Reed number, and felt that familiar sense of constriction grab him. Thumbing the talk button clumsily, he croaked out, “Yeah?”
A tentative voice that took him a moment to identify – Jenny – responded, “Hey, Jahn. Can you come over and talk for a bit?” Not an outright rejection, then. Let it not be so, the curiously stilted thought tripped through his head. Of course he could, yes.
Upon arriving at their home, there was no sign of Fiona’s vehicle, and Jenny let him in, gesturing him to the kitchen table. Her expression was a little peaked, as if she hadn’t been getting a great deal of sleep, and she looked a lot more serious than usual.
Crossing his hands on the table to still them, he ventured, “So…”
Jenny bit her lip, and then started. “So we fought, some.” He winced, but she continued, raising a hand dismissively as she looked at him. “Not that much, at least not that much more than we normally do. We got over it, and we talked a lot.” From the expressions on Jenny’s face, Jahn suspected there had been some crying and apologizing along with the talking, but didn’t interrupt. “The short of it is that she and I are okay again.”
That was something of a relief, but didn’t answer an important question. “And…” he prompted.
Looking at him, face suddenly flat of emotion or expression, she said, “And then there’s you.” Blonde hair falling into her eyes, she looked down at her hands and asked, “I know it’s something that some guys might think weird, while others would consider it a total turn-on… so I guess… I’ll just say it straight. Would it be a problem for you, going out with Fiona, while you and I are together?”
Shocked speechless, he could only stare at her, and she looked up, blue eyes searching him. What the fuck, he thought. Not that he objected, but... as tactfully as he was able he asked, “I’m really not sure what to think. That wouldn’t bother you?”
Eyes flashing sapphire, she said, “I’m not thrilled with it, no. But it’s better than nothing, which is what I expected before I actually talked to Fi. That’s what we worked out, the best solution we could come up with, because it’s going to be a problem otherwise. We’re willing to settle for this, but you have to make a choice too, both of us or neither of us.”
“And,” she continued as she held up her hand to forestall his response, her posture tense, and expression slightly harder. “I don’t want you saying yes out of charity. If you don’t really like Fi, then it’s done. I won’t put her through that.”
He considered, but it really wasn’t so difficult a choice. Ten thousand wet dreams are made of this, he thought wonderingly, but said far more tactfully. “If she’d given me a better indication that she actually liked me, you and I might never have gone out; I do like her and enjoy her company. This… arrangement… would be okay with me.”
Nodding, she said, “I thought you might, but it’s awkward, having you as my boyfriend, and the two of you having a thing on the side. I get that it means you and Fi going out, and maybe doing … the other stuff… as well.” He hadn’t really thought that far ahead, but it made sense, and hmmm, wow, he thought.
Jenny and Fiona lay on the bed in front of him, clad in nothing but shadows, lust for him and him alone on their lovely faces. Sister laid hand on sister’s breasts, alternating whispers, ‘Join us...’
Suddenly, her voice took on a dangerous tone. “And don’t even think for a second that I’m going to lez it up with my sister, half or not.” Busted, he realized, his mind furiously backpedaling from the stray thought. “I know exactly how creepy some guys’ fantasies get,” she concluded. Oh, right. She’d mentioned a porn collection when he expressed some surprise at her creativity in the hotel room.
Shifting uncomfortably, he asked, “So Fiona already knows we’re having this conversation?” Jenny nodded. After some consideration, he ventured, “Alright I confess, I’m not really sure how to pick back up with her. Like you said, this arrangement is strange.”
Smiling brightly, she said, “Already thought of that, and I hope you won’t think I’m overstepping by giving you these…” Rising, she hurried over to the counter where her purse had sat unnoticed and pulled out a pair of tickets. “Friday’s concert. You know how much she loves the Julyus, and the Chevriez are supposed to be there next week,” she finished, setting them down on the table.
Jahn looked up at her, mentally trying to work out all the dark corners of this rabbit hole he’d stumbled down, and then decided on simplicity. “Thanks. I appreciate what you’re doing here. I think… that I can imagine what it’s like to be in your shoes.”
“You mean that thing with your ex and that guy, Greg?” Jenny hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Maybe that’s what prompted me to try that idea on Fi. It’s… different for us, I guess, since I know you like us and actually care.”
Jahn shook his head. “It is, but it isn’t. I’m not sure I can really explain it.” He’d resented the hell out of Greg, but even in hindsight wasn’t sure if it was simply because he was blaming Greg for Andrea’s lack of affection, or because he didn’t want to share. Maybe both. It was different in the ways that mattered, he told himself.
Sliding his hand forward, he gently took hold of hers. “We haven’t been together that long, but I’m glad you’re still with me, Jen.” She stared down at him, her eyes suspiciously moist around the edges, but she said firmly and somewhat fiercely, “Yeah, me too. Just remember that I have dibs.”
The tender moment might have stretched out painfully, but she dispelled the somber mood with a cheery “Wanna go upstairs and fuck?” ***
“Ah, hello, Jahn.” An awkward pause ensued, silence waiting on the other end of the phone. “Good to hear from you again…”
Hell with it, he thought, diving right in. “I came by a pair of tickets to the Chevriez and was wondering if you’d like to go with me?”
“I’d love to! I can’t imagine where you came by those on such short notice…” The hint of amusement in her voice told him that she already knew exactly where he got the tickets from, but she didn’t seem to think any less of the date for it. Good sign. “Next Friday, right?” He gave her the specifics and she continued, “Fair warning, the Julyus charges really pricy rental rates for their jackets and ties. You’ll want to bring something of your own.”
“Ummm…,” Jahn murmured, hedging. He owned both, of course, but they were accessories for work. Slightly embarrassed, he said as much.
“If you’d like, we could go shopping this weekend to find you a better suit?” she suggested, her voice becoming somewhat… shyer? Damned cell, he thought irritably, trying to read her over the line. “It’s more expensive, of course, but formal wear is more an investment than a luxury.” Fiona went on to explain why when he expressed confusion at the sentiment, and he was surprised to learn just how much of an impression exactly the right clothes could make. He wondered why Andrea had never told him that; she’d always dressed to kill, and made him feel drab by comparison.
“Sounds great,” he agreed. “Let’s make an afternoon of it on Saturday, and I’ll buy you dinner when we’re done.” Ending the call, he considered just how different dates both Jenny and Fiona were going to be.
Saturday’s excursion turned out to be just the icebreaker they needed. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t gone out together already, but the awkwardness was an ever-present shadow. From start to finish, the afternoon swept away all of that – starting with one of her trademark lingering kisses upon the cheek, a search for a black dress to go with his suit, and conversation late into the evening after dinner. The addition of the dress to their shopping itinerary had been a real bonus – Fiona had chosen to model some of her choices for him, and she had as much an eye for effect as his ex had, finding pieces that complemented her looks stunningly, each conservative and elegant, suiting her body and personality perfectly. No little challenge, with her small stature and petite frame, but one she passed easily.
Fiona was nowhere near as overtly flirtatious as Jenny, and he’d half expected both the modeling of her dresses and the choice of his jacket to be a blushing affair. Instead, she simply plucked at and arranged his tie, shirt and jacket like a fussy wife and conducted her own little display with a beaming smile for all of the compliments he lavished upon her. Jahn’s world felt settled and right again when, at the evening’s end, she announced that she’d had a wonderful time and was looking forward to the concert. Eyes shining with dark luster, her face lifted to his for a proper kiss. It had always seemed to him as if these kisses should be a difficult task, as both Jenny and Fiona were so much shorter than he, but when it came right down to the heart of things, it was… natural, a simple matter of leaning into it, and enjoying the full measure of whichever girl’s lips he happened to be kissing.
Jenny kissed the way she made love, vibrant and full of almost electric energy, but Fiona’s lips were feather light, and no less enthusiastic for their gentle warmth. Butterfly kisses, came the pained thought as her mouth fluttered across his, the almost dusky hue of her skin seeming to melt between them. God save us all from Country.***
As an international song and dance troupe, the Chevries were all the sensation that Fiona had promised. Arts and theatre had never really been his bag, but she was bringing him to realize that he’d been missing out. Better still was the opportunity to watch her in rapturous audience to their music and show, completely lost in the talents of the performers on their stage. Jahn wasn’t sure what it was about her face that appealed to him so much… her skin a shade or two past Caucasian, high cheekbones that put him to mind of some foreign culture. It’d taken him awhile when they’d first dated to realize that it was some element of Native American heritage, and she’d named some obscure tribe when he’d asked. For some reason, Fiona had been uncomfortable about that subject, so he’d stopped asking. Hers was a pretty face, one that took on almost otherworldly beauty when she was in what she called her “groove.” Fortunate that she had so much love for the band; while he didn’t think she’d mind him staring, there was the problem of explaining away the thoughts that accompanied those looks.
The evening was a fine one, heady with the light wine they’d shared, and promising more conversation with Fiona at the restaurant. Though they seemed to talk endlessly, it was never dull or idle, mindless chatter. Dark eyes sparkling with good humor and a lively intellect to match, the conversations never lapsed into tedium. He supposed the brunette knew more about him than Jen did, never monopolizing conversation towards her, eager to know as much about him as he did of her.
Inevitably, conversation strayed around to the subject of Andrea. The topic was like an Achilles hell, and not one he cared to discuss, but Fiona had a knack for defusing the more bitter aspects with a dry comment or some deeper insight than he’d been able to find.
“At one point, I was absolutely certain that she would be the woman I married someday. The lack of physical intimacy never really mattered to me, and it took me a long time to figure out there was nothing there emotionally. Kind of pathetic, huh?” Staring at his fork, his mind strayed back to celebrations missed and times not shared. Why am I dwelling on that shit, he berated himself, and turned his attention back to his date.
“No, there’s nothing pathetic about it. We all want to be loved.” Fiona replied, somewhat dreamily. He realized that she was lapsing into that state of distraction, and she seemed to realize it too, catching his stare. Her cheeks seemed to darken like shadowy twin flames with embarrassment. Almost, the thought came back to him that she just wasn’t interested, before he realized he’d been down that path before, and been completely wrong. Remembering that strange comment back in Jenny’s room, things clicked. Really clicked and fell into place, like the last pieces of a puzzle. The heat of his own cheeks was suddenly all-consuming, and he could tell from the slight twist of mirth to her mouth that she’d guessed the course of his thoughts, his spontaneous understanding of what was going on in her head. Day-dreaming, just the way he did.
Casting her eyes downward, she said. “All of us.” Words full of meaning, rich with unspoken promise. ***
When he finally escorted her to the door of the Reed home, she pulled him down to kiss her, but it was not a kiss of farewell. In that moment, it seemed as if the lit houses up and down the street were eyes upon him as he traced a hand down the curve of her spine. Fiona shivered against him, asking, “Will you come in?” Mutely he nodded, and followed. Night seemed to take on a surreal quality, and her home, which he’d been to a good number of times within the last month was strangely unfamiliar to him, made more foreign still by her room, a place he’d not yet visited. Even with the light, it seemed insubstantial and ethereal, her slender body the only real thing near to him.
She was the first to act, her hands roaming over his body, pulling him down for another kiss. No hesitation for his own part, he eagerly responded, enjoying the feel of her soft curves. Fiona pulled away briefly, eyes wide and anxious at the growing tension between them. “You know…” He knew, she’d said it once, and he only dimly heard her say it again while he nodded understanding. Jahn would be her first, as he’d been Jenny’s, but she wasn’t didn’t want the rough sexy sex her sister liked, she wanted gentle sexuality. Making love, not fucking. No problem. Clothing seemed to fall away, and he enjoyed each exposure of unexplored skin with new enthusiasm, fingers and lips eager to claim all of them. The brunette’s response was the same, exploring his flesh as if it were clay to be shaped in her hands.
They moved together as one to the bed, nude in the half-light of the room, their shared arousal evident, when a stray thought occurred to him. He didn’t have any condoms with him. Jenny didn’t like them, and he really hadn’t expected the night lo lead here. Whether it was the stricken expression on his face, or his sudden halt that alarmed Fiona, he didn’t know, but she reacted with the same hurt expression that had struck a chord with him before. “Don’t you want to…?” she asked, voice trembling.
Stumbling over himself to assure her that he very much did want her, he explained. “I ah, don’t have any protection.” Relief washed over her face, and her eyes cut toward the bathroom, a flush of embarrassment rather than arousal on her cheeks. Following her gaze, he saw that she was not actually looking within, but at the dresser next to it, where a small bottle lay. Oh, oh damn. She had planned for this, had decided that she would be ready even if he wasn’t. “It’s… taken care of” she said, faintly, dark hair shifting around her face as she looked down. He lifted her chin, tilting her face upward, kissed her again, and took her to bed.
His entire body seemed to have entered a state of relaxation, with the exception of his cock, which was more than ready for her. Her touch upon it was as light as her kisses on his lips, and she almost seemed to look as if she were wondering whether that were for her. She allowed him to guide her, taking control of her flesh, hands sliding from her bare breasts, to her hips, and then legs, gently pulling them apart. Breath quickening, she grasped his wrist as he manipulated her body to the place he would take her.
Her cleft, sparsely populated with brown hair, glistened invitingly. Fiona watched him examine her with eyes and fingers both, spreading her there just slightly as he positioned himself. A single question was obvious on his lips, and she nodded with a confidence that was not reflected in her tension beneath him.
Drawing himself forward, he pushed into her, his cock pushing through the tightness of her labia, and seeking the virgin barrier close within. Her tension increased noticeably as he penetrated her, breathing growing more labored, and he lifted a hand to the base of her neck to massage her shoulders as he worked his way into her. Expressive brown eyes stared up into his as he took her, and her lips, shadowed in darkness, parted to release a gasp as he began to pierce her hymen. Fiona flinched, a low cry of pain emerging from her throat as he broke it with a pronounced thrust. He started to withdraw to relieve the pressure on her, but she grasped his wrist again, intent to draw him back into her clear. Encouraged, he thrust into her fully, claiming her formerly virgin pussy with the full girth of his cock.
Lying side by side as they were, she was unable to wrap her legs around him, but still spread herself as fully as she could, hiking the left up and over his kneecap, attempting to bring him more deeply into herself. Her hand had released his wrist, and now sought his back, manicured fingernails digging sharply into him.
With another low cry, she suddenly began to quiver against him, finding her own pleasure in climax. He began to move within her, just forcefully enough to remind her of his active participation in their fucking, and she went rigid with tension again, lithe body arching, small breasts jutting from her chest, tipped with nipples as hard as his erection. Fiona took as much as he would give her and more, coming once again and once more, body seeking everything. Her gentle insistence, the aroma of her perfume permeating his nostrils like opium, drove control from his cock, and he found himself coming with her, cum spilling hotly within.
“Oh… oh…” she gasped, gazing up at him with a wide-eyed adoration that made him feel more manly than he had at any other time, even when Jenny was going down on him like he was the last man on earth. Don’t go flexing your arms, he told himself, thoughts a pleasure-filled stupor. ***
Jahn couldn’t believe how high his star had been rising, and it seemed to him as if it had to end soon. He was fucking two beautiful women who not only knew about, but loved him despite the conflict. It seemed as if his run of luck had to die agonizingly, and days after taking Fiona, he would recognize that guess for truth.
Jenny answered that question for him, though she had no idea. “My daddy wants to meet you,” she said, eyes betraying some anxiety at the idea.
He should have expected that, really. Unlike him, the girls still had at least one of their parents, though Fiona’s father had died in an automobile accident. Jahn hadn’t thought to ask about Jenny’s dad. “Sure,” he said, more enthusiastically than he felt. “I’d love to meet him. Should I get reservations somewhere?”
A pained expression crossed her face, “He can’t do that, he’s… he’s at the Johannes Penitentiary.” Maximum security, he knew. Some of the worst offenders in the state were housed there. He had no idea what to say to that.
Sometimes, there are no words.
To be continued…
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/love-stories/sweet-dreams-are-made-of-this-ch02.aspx">Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This, Ch.02</a>