The dispassionate, curt, and calm demeanor of Grant Friarheart haunted my dreams that night. I woke up in the middle of unceremoniously dry humping Sven’s leg. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, groggily, as I started to stir with more wakeful movements. 

“What time is it?”

“10:06 AM.”

“What time did you wake up?”

“Eight, like I always do.”

“How long have I been --”

“--Dry humping my hip like a bitch in heat? About the last ten to fifteen minutes.”

He glanced over at me with an arched brow, his hair still disheveled from sleep.  

“Do I want to know who you were dreaming about?”

“I don’t know what you want or don’t want, but I’m not sure you - get - to know because I’m not so privy to tell you about it.”

“That bad, huh?”

I face-planted into my pillow. My clit was so fucking hard right now. I turned my head in my pillow, moving my hand to push the hair out of my face.   

“What do you do when you wake up hard as a rock?”

“Jerk it soft, if I have time for that, or I take a cold shower,”  he answered with a smirk.  

“You want to use me to rut off, till you cum, thinking about … whoever was in your dreams; I can be very still and consent to that.”

I gave him an appraising look. 

“You’d let me objectify you like that?”

“Yes.”

Turning more onto my side, I gave him another appraisal glance.  “I might take you up on that…”

His breath hitched, and he gave a hesitant smile.  

“Where do you want me?”

“You’re fine there, just … don’t move.” 

I scooted over until I wrapped my legs around his thigh, - what was it about thighs in our marriage?- groaning, as I made sure I had access to the hard point of his hip bone. I pressed my face into his side. His breath hitched again, and he cleared his throat softly. I could see him starting to rise in his boxers. I began grinding my hips against his body.  

The fantasy of Grant would not leave me be until I gave it at least one orgasm.  It was like he was some dark god, demanding a tax of my energy, a taste of my soul. Maybe then I can get some sleep without these …well, they aren’t nightmares, but they have the tenacity of nightmares. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift to my dreams… wet as they were.  They weren’t very exciting to anyone … not me, I would expect. 

Grant was sitting behind a desk, his fingers steepled, and his eyes boring down into mine, as I sat across from this desk, completely naked and chained to the floor of what I could only guess was some sort of makeshift auction block. I had a collar around my neck and shackles on my ankles, but my arms were cuffed in this metal sleeve that went all the way to my elbows, framing my arms across and under my chest, to show off my tits.   And my tits were dripping milk like faucets.  I could hear whispering that grew louder and louder, like a bidding war on the stock market floor.  

And Grant just stood there, staring at me. Dispassionate. Calm. In Control.  Amidst all this Chaos, he sat there like some sort of CEO of it all. 

I was rutting against Sven’s leg, feverishly now, heaving hot, stinking, morning breath into the damp with my drool, fabric of his boxers. 

“Oh yeahh.  Yeah… yeah… oh yeahh,” I crooned, riding my husband’s thigh, while thinking of another man felt like cheating, but he fucked our neighbor, so I’m really the better person here; I’m just fantasizing.  And fuck… I was getting close. So close. I changed the direction of my grinding to give the underside of my clit some attention -  and I squeaked and gripped Sven’s body, gripping whatever part of him was within reach of my hands. 

I heard him gasp. And that’s when I knew that I had grabbed his dick, and I was squeezing it.  I couldn’t let go. My mind was already imagining it was Grant’s, and squeezing it was the best feeling in the world. 

I was close, rolling my hips at a steady clip.   

Making those needy sounds that were too embarrassing to make of my own volition, but my body involuntarily expressed them.  

“Yeah… oh yeahh… yeah.. Yeah.. yeah … yeah… Ah… ahhh… yeah…”  

I could feel the pleasure mounting, edging, so close to that tip top, so close to giving me release, and I was at that point where I would hurt my own body, strain and exert my own body just for a few more seconds, a few more seconds, a few more seconds… . ad infinitum to get those precious, precious happy chemicals.  

I heard Sven grit his teeth with self-restraint, and it gave me a cum contraction, and I squeezed his dick to make him make that noise again. And he did, and that was it. That was all I needed to have me sliding into that orgasm like a grand slam home run. I felt my body deflate and grind to a halt and just vibrate against Sven’s body, creaming my panties against him, creaming hard that I was squirting, down my thighs and getting them all nice and wet. 

I let go of  Sven’s dick and glanced up at him, my chest heaving, breath hard and heavy.  

“My thighs are all wet…” I whispered.  

He gave me a look. 

“Want a turn to rut off on me?”

Sven nodded, his lip quivering in that way it does when he’s really, really, horny and needy. 

We moved in bed so that he could get his dick between my squirt-slick thighs, and he was thrusting into me, biting my tit to keep from making noise, or rather, for me to make it for him.  His teeth lodged in my nipple halo, squeezing the squeaks and hisses out of me. 

He kept at it, faster and faster until I felt him growling vibrations along my nipple halos, making my nipples hard as they were caressed by this hot, hot breath, baking them with a silent orgasmic scream as he held me close and thrust so far and so hard between my thighs that he was shooting his load against my ass.  

And then, we lay in bed like that, spent and swaddled around each other, drifting off to sleep again before I knew I had to get up and go to work, but I needed to call in with some excuse so Sven and I could talk about the Proposition of my ‘Recruitment’  by Friarheart Realty. 

___

An hour later, I was eating toast, naked in the kitchen like a good Acquisition, and making a pros and cons list while Sven sat at the bar with his laptop, looking up what he could about  Friarheart Realty and the namesake couple that owned it.  I glanced up at his quizzical brow and concentrated expression as his hand rubbed that nub on his wireless mouse, over and over and over again, scrolling on whatever page he was looking at on the internet. 

I became entranced by the way his finger just … rubbed that nub, and it made me think of my own, and feeling his finger rub and roll over it until I came was a potent image, and before I knew it my non-toast holding hand was between my thighs, parting my folds and rubbing my clit to the same speed as his finger scrolling.  

That dream flooded in my mind again the soft ambiance of that stock market just shouting bids and numbers, and the more I focused on that sound and the roll of Sven’s fingers, the closer and closer I got to another orgasm.  I was doing my best to be quiet, but when I get close, I make noise; I can’t help it. I’ve tried for years, but I simply can’t cum quiet. So when the moan escaped, and Sven’s finger stopped,  I froze.

“Sandy?”

“Uh.. Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yep, I’m good.”

“How’s that list going?”

“Good. It’s going good, really good.”

“Which one is winning?”

“What?”

I was getting agitated; I was so close! And he is going to keep talking to me, my clit is throbbing with just … selfish demands for another orgasm.  I didn’t want to talk to him right now I just wanted him to roll his finger a bit longer and THEN we could talk. Gawd!

“The Pros or the Cons? Which side is winning?”

“Uhm….”

The sound of the wood creaking as he got up from the stool and walked around the bar into the kitchen made me move my hand away from my thighs quickly.   He stood next to me frowning, suspicious.  I turned to look at him, and he looked down at the list, the half-eaten slice of toast, and then back up to me.  

“You barely wrote anything down.”

“Oh, I …”

He stepped more into my space and placed a hand between my thighs,  he raised his middle two fingers up to feel the wetness of my sex and I gasped a moan so involuntarily that I couldn’t even look at him.   His breath hitched, and he stepped closer.   “Oh Sandy …” he purred.

“It was your fingers on the mouse. I … got a little distracted,” I confessed. 

He chuckled, that masculine chuckle that men do, the one that is a tap dance between pride and amusement, and it gave me goosebumps.  He leaned in and pressed a kiss on my neck.  “May I help you along, so you can complete your list?”

“Yes…”

And his finger started to roll against my clit like he was doing before on the mouse, and I groaned.  The heat was back and I was racing toward that edge, my head tipping back, one arm reached out to hold his shoulder, his arm, the feel of his lean muscle, taut under his shirt was magnificent.  

My Investor… my mind purred, and suddenly he was added to my fantasy. His voice was the loudest one of all,  saying these large sums of what he knew I was worth and  I was suddenly creaming my orgasm against Sven’s fingers.  “Oh!!” I whimpered, my body shook, and he pulled me to his body with his other arm, and I could feel his bulge in his pants. “Take it out, Sven…” I pouted, pleaded. 

“What?”

“Your dick, I want it… I want a deposit, please…. I need it…”

“Lift up your leg…wrap it around my hip…that’s it.”

He pulled his sweatpants down enough to take his dick out and then angled himself inside.  And then he thrust himself in slowly. It didn’t take long before he’d lifted me up to rest my ass against the counter to continue fucking me.  He was so hard and strong in his thrusting.  “What am I?” I asked, needing to hear it.

“My beautiful investment.  You’re my fucking acquisition…Oh Sandrea…. Sandrea….” He was thrusting harder, pounding faster and faster, that it made my body feel loose like jelly, just wobbling wild on his dick,  my ass smacking the counter like an ovation.  “Say it again, Investor, tell me what I am… tell me!”

He started to say it again, but his words were stolen by the thunderous growl of his own orgasm ripping through him. I felt his cum shoot inside me and shivered at the feeling.  I felt so good, feeling him cum inside me like that.    

I ran my hand over his hair.   "Fuck that was beautiful.” I praised.  

Sven chuckled weakly and kissed my shoulder, my neck, then made his way up to my lips. Now we don’t kiss on the lips that often,  but when we do, it always lingers. And this time was no different.   “We really need to get this done.  What do you say we go out? That way we don’t get too distracted by sex again -  bring the laptop and  a notebook,  grab a burger or something?” I suggested.

“That is a great idea… because I will definitely get distracted by you being naked in the kitchen eating toast.”

“At least that makes sense versus me getting distracted and riled up over your finger scrolling on a mouse.”

Sven laughed softly. “You are a rare bird, and I love that the most about you,” he said, and his gaze held mine for one suspended intimate moment. I felt like my soul blushed or became coy at being called a rare bird.   

“Okay, you sweet talker, let me down so I can put on some clothes.”

“If I must.”

He stepped back so I could hop down from the counter. As I walked away, he spanked my ass so hard I squealed and he chuckled as I playfully glowered at him on my walk back to the bedroom. 

____

Running the water for a shower would hopefully wash away the haunting images of that dream.  Got the water to the perfect temperature, then stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain.  I turned my back to the spray and dipped my hair back into the water. The ASMR of the water on my scalp drowning my mind to a calm, zen static of pure sensation prevented me from hearing that Sven had joined me in the shower.   I gasped when I opened my eyes, lifting my head from the spray intent to grab the shampoo.  

“Oh hey!”

“Hey.  Can I wash your back?”

“Oh sure, right after I wash my hair?”

“Or I could wash your hair and your back at the same time?”

“Oh, so skilled, aren’t you ?” 

“Definitely,” Sven said, then swirled his finger in a circle, indicating that I should turn around. 

The nonverbal instruction of it all made my nipples perk up. I turned around slowly, and bent under the spray to grab the shampoo bottle and handed it to him over my shoulder.   The raspberry sound of the shampoo bottle being squeezed added its citrus scent to the small, steamy confines of the shower.  

Sven stepped close to me, to lean past me to replace the bottle on the forward-right corner counter of the tub. I could feel his dick pressed against my ass. He wasn’t fully hard, but he wasn’t fully soft either. I made a sound of disappointment when he stepped back. I hoped the sound was swallowed by the sound of the water. It must have been because Sven didn’t comment on hearing anything, But of course, not facing him, I couldn’t see if he smirked.

Feeling his hands start to knead the shampoo into my hair, like he’d done several times before in our marriage, felt different somehow this time.  I couldn’t place my finger on why.  Maybe it was what we had ahead of us to talk about. Maybe it was the fact that  I was still thinking about Grant, and he had literally cheated on me with our neighbor, and after both of those things we’d had more satisfying sex than we’d have in our combined years of marriage. 

“Drea?”

“Yeah?”

He called me Drea!  I felt so good hearing that name in his voice - he’d been calling me Sandy for years, and I can’t think of any other time he’d called me Drea. It was always my full name, Sandrea or Sandy.  

“Delia texted me last night. Right after you drifted off.”

I froze. I was NOT expecting him to mention her again. “Yeah, and? What did she have to say?”

“She apologized and asked if there was anything she could do to make things right with you.”

“With me?”

“Yeah. I think it’s a woman to woman sign of respect.”

“Oh.  Well, what did you tell her?”

“I said I’d talk to you about it and get back to her.”

I turned in his arms, the suds of the shampoo foaming in my hair, and his foamy hands fell to his sides as he looked away, ashamed of remembering that he’d cheated and had an affair. I brought my hands up to his hands, taking the soap and then working the excess shampoo into his hair as I faced him. He glanced up at me, his head still downcast.

“Sven, there is something I need to tell you too.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve been kind of cheating on you too.”

Sven frowned, confused.  “With who?”

“Well it wasn't directly cheating like you being fucked against the garage wall. But I’ve had this attraction to Grant Friarheart since the house tour and then meeting him and his wife at that bistro. And then last night he was the one I dreamed about and the one I was thinking about when I was dry humping your hip this morning.” 

Sven took a deep breath and nodded.  “I’m glad you told me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I know my infidelity was … worse, but at least I’m not alone in feeling attracted to other people.”

“That’s true.”

“So what do we do about this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what do we do about this, Drea, it’s not a complicated question. Do we go forward preserving the monogamy of our marriage, or do we … explore options for a while and then resume monogamy … we have options.  This isn’t the  1950s.  We are progressive, free-thinking people.  And sometimes our hormone cycles don’t … align the way we need to.”

“You want to see Delia again,” I deduced.  “You have feelings for her.”

“I… yes.  I do, okay.  I have feelings for Delia.  But that doesn’t negate the love I have for you.  I’m willing to forsake whatever fledgling feelings I have for Delia because I love you, that much, but I think it at least warrants a conversation… or a part of the greater conversational series we have planned for the day.”

“Shit. I still need to call out from work.” I ran my hands over my face. “Shit! .. let’s hurry up and shower. We can add the monogamy talk to the  recruitment talk and then just … let me shower, and get this soap out of my hair and call in before I’m a no-call, no-show.”  I grumbled, dunked my head in the spray, and started grinding the soap into my scalp as I rinsed it out.

“That’s the quickest I’ve seen you get out of a shower in a long time,” Sven said as he moved into the spray I was hogging. I glanced back to see him squeeze more shampoo into his hands and suds his own hair right as I was grabbing a dry towel and leaving the steamy bathroom to the cold as hell by comparison, air-conditioned bedroom.  I dragged my feet on the area rug to dry them off as I went toward my phone. 

Snagging it off its charger, I saw three missed calls and swore under my breath before dialing my boss and pressing the phone on speaker as I moved the towel from around my body to wrap around my dripping wet hair. 

Partha Singh, my boss, answered on the third ring.  

“Where are you?!” He demanded,  “I’ve been calling you!”

“I know, I’m sorry, I meant to call earlier to let you know I can’t come in today.”

“Why not? Are you okay?”

“Yeah… I’m .. I just need a mental health day. Can you call Annalise to cover my shift for the day?”

“You give me no other choice. Your shift will be covered, but just today, whatever funk your American brain is burdened by, drink some water and sleep more hours, but then tomorrow I need you, you’re my best worker. I can’t afford to lose you.”

“Thank you, Partha.”

“Yeah, of course.” 

And then he hung up.  I could already hear the admonishing disappointment in his condescending yet caring, Bengali-accented voice if I told him that I was leaving his consulting firm to work for this… Real Estate tycoon.  

I really liked Partha. He’s a good man and a trusted friend. But she did say that there was only Friarheart Realty once you signed on to work for them. There was no other job ever again. So if I wanted to double dutch and work both jobs, that wasn't an option. Still, it broke my heart in a way I didn’t anticipate, to just abandon Partha.   

Maybe if I told him what was going on? Maybe if I offered to bring him with me. She did say I could hire all my own people. What if I offered Partha a job with Friarheart Realty as well? That way I don’t lose his friendship, which I guess means more to me than I realized.   That and his husband make the most amazing Palak Paneer I’ve ever tasted. 

It was at that pause in my thoughts that I heard Sven enter the bedroom in a towel, whistling. I smiled at him, and he winked as he went over to the dresser to pull out some underwear and began getting dressed. 

“Everything squared away?” he asked.

“Yep, yeah.  I just let Partha know I needed the day. He was annoyed but acceptable about it.”

“Good man, that Partha.  His husband’s curry is out of this world. I still need to ask Dinesh for the recipe next time we have dinner with them, remind me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sven turned around and looked at me.  “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just… thinking, lots on my mind, you know?”

“Yeah.  Did you have an idea of where to go out to eat in mind so we can go talk about all the things on our minds and this next chapter in our lives?”

“Uhm, well, we haven’t been to Bellamy’s in a while.”

“That little pizzeria on Haganzi Street?”

“Yep, the one and only.”

“That sounds perfect. I haven’t seen Ubaldo in too long.”

“Exactly.  Let me find something to wear.”

I went over to my dresser and pulled out a pair of bikini underwear, a lime green, pleated mini skirt, and a pink-and-white polo shirt to match.  I wiggled into a strapless bra and raked a brush through my hair, spritzed it with some oil, and really ran some moisturizer into my roots along with my favorite leave-in conditioner. Then pulled it into a side ponytail and plaited it with some plain black hair ties. My hair swirled and swooped into a loose, loopy curl at the end of the plait. I grabbed my newsboy cap to wear to the side and started to oil my arms and legs, deciding to go bare-legged, with just some knee-high socks.  Maybe a light gloss and some eyeliner.

I glanced over at Sven wearing a pair of black slacks and a cinnamon-red dress shirt with the Niagara Falls cufflinks I got him for his birthday.  He looked expensive, and it made my clit throb.  He had brushed his hair back and slicked in product so it held a wave and lay as flat as it could against his scalp.  He bent down to pull on a sock, and I found my eyes admiring the view of his ass.  For a moment.  And then It immediately made me think of Delia and how she had laid claim to that ass in a way I never could.  

I didn’t particularly think of myself as a jealous person. But … Delia is really fucking gorgeous. I’m jealous of her because she’s pretty in a way I will never be, and  I hated that. But did I hate her? No. Not really.  I know I’m a knockout, but damn, Delia could have it for the right price.  I couldn’t blame Sven; I’d bend over for her too.   

Maybe the idea of non-monogamy for a while might be good for us, I wondered.  There is no guarantee that anything will happen with Grant; he may just be a fun fantasy, but … maybe Delia could be a … third for both of us.  Someone to just let off a bit of steam and have some fun.  No strings, or nothing serious on my end; I couldn’t speak for Sven. If his commitment to me is any indication, once he develops feelings for a person, he never loses them.

Sven turned and saw me staring at him and chuckled.  “Let’s not get distracted again, okay?”

I raised my eyes to meet his eyes, even as I was flushing at the amusement dancing in them.  “Spoil sport.” I teased and gave him a good-natured smirk.  “I was uhm… just thinking. Do you think Delia is home?”

His brows jumped closer to his hairline. “I don’t know, wanna swing by her place on our way out and see?”

“Yeah, could we?”

“Definitely.”

“Great, text her or something, and I’ll find the shoes I want to wear,” I said, and went to the walk-in closet and started buzzing my lips thoughtfully as I looked at my large shoe collection.  I decided on a simple white canvas sneaker, with rainbow laces.  Both Sven and I are bisexual, he’s out, I’m … well, I’m out to him, but not really anyone else.  I didn’t really want to deal with all the shit bisexual women have to deal with.  But if I’m about to add another woman to my marriage in some capacity, well, I should broadcast a little, so she feels secure or maybe even interested. Delia could be straight for all I knew. Though I was really hoping not!

Having got my shoes chosen and laced up and on. I went over to Sven. 

“Is she home?”

“Yes. And she’s open to us coming by to chat for a bit. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be”

___

Delia lived two doors down and across the hall from us in apartment 845.  She had a charm on the doorpost that had some sort of  Hebrew writing on it.  “Is she Jewish?”

“I think so, yeah. Do you want me to knock or do you want to do it?”

I glanced at her door and then raised my fist to knock solidly three times.  There was the sound of her voice calling out,  “Coming!” and a few seconds later, she answered the door. 

Well over six feet tall, with big eyes and long hair, Delia answered the door.  “That was fast.  Hi, come in. I was trying to make … something edible. I don’t know if you want anything to drink or eat or … if you’re … sorry, I’m … nervous, I think.”

Following her into her very homey - in a cluttered way - apartment,  I looked around at all the art on the walls and the gauzy, floofy blanket that covered her couch like some weird creature.  “I think we’re going out to have a meal after this. We have to process a major life decision, but uhm, Sven said you wanted to talk to me, and so since we’re on our way out, I figured we can talk then we’d be on our way.” I said pleasantly. 

“Right, of course, very time-efficient…” Delia chuckled nervously.  “I just, uhm, I want to say I’m sorry about… fucking your husband in the ass in the parking garage yesterday. It was a one-time thing, and … there isn’t really any excuse for it. I just wanted to apologize, and if there is anything I can do to make sure that things are okay, let me know.”

Christ, she was so fucking adorable, charming, like a homestyle whore.  I wanted her in every way possible. How was she still single?!

“Do you have feelings for my husband?”

“Well, I mean, he’s fun to talk to, and there’s some chemistry between us, which led to … what happened, but it won’t be a problem, I promise. I’ll stay away and never ---”

I held up my hands for her to be quiet, and she slumped into a kind of awkward silence, muttering an apology, and I smiled.  “I was … wondering if you’d be open to the idea of… well, Sven and I were possibly considering opening our marriage, so you two could continue your affair, but with my consent vs. behind my back.”

Delia’s eyes got wide. She glanced at Sven for the first time since we entered her apartment. Her frown was only her furrowed brows as she looked from him to me. And licked her lips. “I’m open to it. Would you want to play with me too?”  Delia asked.

“Are you also attracted to women?”

“I’m pansexual.  So I’m into every gender.  And you’re really fucking hot.”  Delia said with a laugh as her eyes looked me up and down, “Cute shoelaces.”

“Thanks. And I’m … curious about you as well. I find you quite … attractive myself. So if you’re open to playing with me as well, then  I am open to it also.”

“Y-Yeah.  I … yeah.”  Delia laughed again.

“How old are you anyway?”

“43, but I look younger from surgeries.  How old are you?”

“38.”

“Mm, okay, that’s not that big of a gap.”

“Do you have a thing for age gaps?”

“No, I have a limit about age gaps.  I don’t date anyone with a ten-year difference to my age.”

“Why?”

“It … is a trauma thing. Can we just leave it at that?”

“Yeah. Of course. I was just curious.”

“So… we’re a thing, the three of us then?”

“Yes. We’re a thing, right, Sven? Any objections?”

“None.  We’re a thing. Though I think we may need to talk more about the logistics of the thing, once Drea and I talk about another thing…”

“Can I help at all with the other thing at all?” Delia asked. 

Sven and I exchanged a look.  “That depends,” I said.

“On what?”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a Public Defense Lawyer.”

“Perfect.”

“What’s going on? What’s this other thing?”

“Maybe you can come out to get pizza with us, and we can talk more there. Do you have time?”

“Uh, yeah.  Pizza sounds amazing, actually.”

“Have you ever been to Bellamy’s on Haganzi Street?”

Delia chuckled. “Yeah, I went there a lot when I was a law student, a lot of late nights studying with those endless pepperoni rolls and their house ginger ale.”

“Great. That’s where we were thinking of going to just talk about this major life change, and since you’re part of that life change, why not tag along?”

____

We took Delia’s car to Bellamy’s. She drove a 2012 Silver Acura Sport Wagon. It rode smooth. She was a good driver, very focused. I liked watching her drive, the way she was in control and awkwardly adorable about it. 

It was a long sort of drive to Bellamy’s. I wondered if it was worth it to continue the ‘what are we now’ conversation about our new relationship or if I should wait until we got there. Glancing at Sven in the backseat scrolling his phone,  I sighed and stared out the window a bit. 

“So how long have you been a Public Defense Lawyer?”

“Uh, eleven years. You’re an architect, right?”

“Did Sven tell you that?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I mean I knew you and him talked, before I … witnessed what that talking escalated to.”

“Sandrea, are you sure you’re okay with this? You still seem pretty bothered. I don’t want you to feel obligated to do something you’re not fully on board with.”

“It’s not that. It’s just…well, first of all, it was my idea to try this open marriage thing out. The only thing that I’m bothered by is that … well…you’re gorgeous! And I may be a bit jealous.”

Delia swerved from the sudden shock of hearing that but quickly righted herself in her lane.  

“Thanks, heh. I mean. You’re a knockout yourself, you know?”

“I know, but not like you.”

“I worked very hard to get where I am, Sandrea, just like I know you have worked very hard to get to where you are. We have no reason to be jealous of one another. “

“Why are you still single? I mean, you are … were … you’re not just this free range polyamorous--”

“-- Slut? No. I pretty much keep to myself.  Sven was the first taste I’ve had of sex in a while.”

“Really? But you’re amazingly beautiful. I would have thought you would have found someone by now, especially considering I thought you were like 23.”

“Yeah.  I mean… I have the anatomy I have, as you saw, that is a pretty … polarizing thing when it comes to finding partners. And I’ve tried the whole T4T thing… and it works out for a while but  I think I have rotten luck. I always end up with the egg that has too much gender envy to be with me. So it fizzles out. I got bored of that and just told myself to focus on my career and my hobbies for a while.”

“What are your hobbies?’

Delia paused to merge lanes. The only sound in the car was the distant chatter of whatever TikTok video that Sven was watching and the repetitive sound of her blinker as she slowly merged into the lane she needed.  

“I really like making things,”  Delia answered finally.

“Like that floofy blanket thing on your couch?”

“Oh no, haha, that was a gift from my ex that I refuse to give back.  She’s in prison now anyway.”

“Shit, what happened?”

“Grand Theft Auto.  I was all fine with representing her until I found out it was all premeditated. She sought me out to have a ‘cheap lawyer’ on call whenever she wanted, thinking she could pay me with sex.”  

Delia rolled her eyes.  

“So, I recused myself and recommended a coworker of mine to take her case. He's a grade-A conservative asshole and not very good at his job, so he ended up trying to plea bargain her; she insisted on going to trial. He lost the case, she got the maximum, and will be behind bars for a very long time.’

“Wow, do you have a thing for bad girls?”

Delia chuckled; the sound was brittle and more than a little awkward.  “Loneliness makes you make foolish choices. And Simone, that’s her name, well, she had a really tight ass and no gag reflex. Guess I wasn’t thinking with the right head when I was around her after a while.”  Delia glanced at me as she said that with a smirk.

I wanted to melt in her lap right then and there. She was wearing this dark purple jumper and it was riding up as she sat in the drivers’ seat, it showed off her leg,  it was a softer brown than mine.  And I wondered how smooth her skin was.  I wanted to rub my cheeks against her thighs… Damn it, Sven must be rubbing off on me… 

“Yeah, I know the feeling…” I replied absently.  

Delia chuckled before swearing as she swerved again to get in the right lane. It wasn’t too much longer before we hit Haganzi Street. There was a small parking lot in the back that had a few spots, thankfully. She pulled into the one in the back corner under the Blackthorn tree.

“Sven, we’re here!” I turned to glance back at him in the backseat while my hands unsnapped my seatbelt.

“So I see,” he replied.  

“Oh man, I can taste that Margherita pizza with extra mushrooms already!” Sven said with a stretch as he exited the car. 

Delia glanced at him. 

“You know you can tell a lot about a person by their preferred pizza toppings,” she said with a flirtatious lilt to her voice. 

“Oh yeah? What’s your preferred topping?”

“Onions and Olives. With extra cheese.”

I shut the door of the car and walked around to join the two of them as we made our way to the building properly.  

Bellamy’s is a ‘hole in the wall’  hidden gem type of place. It’s 24 hours and only served pizza no matter what time it was. But the variety of the pizza they offered was pretty much anything you could think of. Bellamy himself was a culinary school dropout from Scottsdale, Arizona, by way of Tucson, by way of Beaumont, Texas.  He went into business with Ubaldo, a half-Italian, second-generation American, who considered Star Wars to be his religion.

“What’s this about a pizza horoscope?” I asked as we approached the doors of the place.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say it is a horoscope or anything like that. That would be a grave insult to the Vedic culture since they came up with astrology that the Western world has turned into such a fad.  But it’s more like … pop psychology dream analysis. Our subconscious choices reveal a lot about our identity in ways we don’t anticipate.”

“Really. What does Mushroom Margherita pizza say about Sven then in this analysis theory you have, Delia?”

She was about to answer while we were standing in front of the counter when Ubaldo greeted us with his Mandalorian language,  “Olarom! Welcome!”

I watched the recognition flower in his eyes.  “Well, well, these are three familiar faces coming together as one party; it is a small world indeed.”

“Hey, Ubaldo, you got a back corner booth available? We may be here a while.”

“Jate’kara, it’s your lucky day!  We just bussed one, some law students studying for their bar were just in; it’s all yours, c’mon in and get comfortable, eh?” 

___

Settled in the back booth, the three of us huddled over Sven’s laptop while we waited for our pizza to arrive. We ordered one-third margherita with extra mushrooms; one-third onions and olives with extra cheese; and the final third, my third, was banana peppers and pineapple.

“I can’t believe you’re one of those pineapple on pizza types, Sandrea.”  Delia laughed. 

“You can’t, huh? What does the pizza fortune say about that?”

“That you’re probably a lateral thinker, a trailblazer; you don’t fit in very well, except with others like you. Your existence challenges the status quo. That kind of thing. Am I hedging close to the homestead or am I off the ranch?”

“Oh, you’re camped out in my living room eating my snacks.”

“That on the nose, huh?”

“I think so.”

“Do you like being easily read?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you think you don’t, but deep down it's a relief to be seen without having to explain yourself and have people get it mixed up.”

“There you go again, shoes off and feet on my coffee table,” I said. 

Delia laughed again. It was a good laugh. I liked her laugh. I liked her. I liked her a lot. I was staring at her, watching her laugh. I glanced over at Sven, who was staring at me with that perceptive look of his. What did he see on my face that I wasn’t hiding as well as I wanted to, I wondered?

Ubaldo arrived with our pizza and another basket of pepperoni rolls.  

“Haili cetare!  Bon Appetit!”  He said and then walked away, dusting his hands off on his apron. 

“So are you going to tell me what this new life change you’ve included me in?”

“Well, I’ve been offered a new job, which will entail moving out of the apartment complex.”

“Oh wow,” Delia said with a mouth full of pizza. 

“What sort of job is it?” She asked again with her mouth full.   

I giggled at the way she blushed and muttered an apology before reaching for a napkin to dab at any extra sauce that may have been trying to drip down to her shirt, which was unbuttoned a bit, revealing her very nice tits.  I was staring at her cleavage for a second too long before it was me who looked away, muttering my own apology. 

“It’s a job with a real estate firm, to be an architect full time for them. She gets to bring in all her own people.  It’s a pretty big deal,” Sven answered.

“Yeah, that sounds like a dream; where’s the hesitation?”  

“It feels too good to be true, like I’m making a deal with the devil.”

“You can say that about any corporation these days, though.  What real estate firm is it?”

“Friarheart Realty. Have you heard of them?”

Delia’s expression went neutral, blank.  She sat back in her seat.  “Yeah. I’ve heard of them.”

“What have you heard about them? Should we be concerned?” Sven asked. 

“Tomson, that asshole lawyer I mentioned who tried my ex’s case,  he’s obsessed with some conspiracy theory around them. I try not to pay attention; he’s unhinged.  But beyond that, I just see their signs around the city. They have a good-standing website everything seems to be on the up and up with them. But I’d still hold a concern ‘ace up my sleeve’ just for posterity’s sake. You never know what people are hiding, and if your gut is telling you something is up, listen to it,”  Delia replied. 

I glanced at Sven, then back at the pizza I hadn't finished eating.  “Well, we were going to look them up and see if we can find any dirt on them.”

“How long do you have to make a decision about this?”

“48 hours. Well, today, then tomorrow they want an answer.”

“Is it going to pay well?”

“Very.  My first paycheck is my dream house, any house on their open house list.”

Delia’s eyes widened.  “Well,  that’s ... generous.”

She reached for another slice of pizza.  I hadn't really had an appetite anymore. I was too full of indecision, and I just wanted someone else to make the decision for me.  To know everything there was to know about this and tell me what to do.  

I was tired. I’m so tired of making decisions and being the breadwinner. I just wanted to enjoy a good holiday doing nothing. So tired of all the stress of living and keeping up with everything.  The weight of that knowledge started to crash on me hard, and I slumped against my seat. I felt my eyes burning with tears I knew were coming, but I wanted to hold them back as long as possible. 

“Sandy? Are you alright?” Sven asked.  I could hear the furrowed brow haunting his voice without looking at him. 

I just shook my head. And then the tears were breaking the fortress of my will, and I covered my face with my hands.  I was crying for the second time in two days. This was so unlike me. What was going on? Why was I such a mess about this? 

“Hey, Sandrea, would you like a hug?” Delia offered.  

I nodded and then felt her large arm wrap around me, and I snuggled against her chest. She was so warm and smelled like olives -  it reminded me of Paul again.  And that cold flashback was enough to splash some sense back into me.   “It’s just a lot going on, and I’m tired,” I explained.

“I get that,” Delia said, her hand rubbing my shoulder. She was warm and tall, and I wanted to feel small against her. I closed my eyes.  And the next thing I knew I was asleep in her lap. 

___

There was this spa, full of naked women, and I was one of them. It was like something out of Ancient Greece or something. I felt free and exposed at the same time. I didn’t recognize any of these women. Except one. It was Delia. She was sitting at the far end of one of the baths, her bottom half in the water, her top half exposed, topless. Fuuuck, she had great tits. Really, really great tits.  And she was typing something on a typewriter with one hand, while  someone was tending to her under the water. I could see her now. There was a woman in scuba gear, sucking Delia’s girlcock.  

I walked closer to the baths. My feet pitter-pattering on the cold, terra-cotta tile flooring. 

Delia looked up at me.  

“Are we good?” she asked. 

I laughed, “Of course we’re good.  Why wouldn’t we be?” I replied. 

She gave a nod, and then pressed a few more keys on the typewriter before she pulled the paper out with a flourish and pushed the typewriter to the other side with a ding. 

She handed me this long scroll of paper; it was filled with legal words I didn’t know. Then she tipped her head back with a long, throaty sigh. It made her tits just push out more, and I stared at them; I stared at her tits while some underwater scuba diver made her cum.  And suddenly I felt a deep, pervasive feeling of jealousy; I wish it was me. I wished it was me making her cum. I wished it so badly that I got enraged. I threw the paper aside and dove under the water to pull the scuba diver up. 

The scuba diver pulled the helmet off, and I suddenly found myself looking at my own face. 

“Are we good?” The other me asked.  

I gaped.  “I … I don’t know!” 

I gave that panicked reply over and over and over and over. I couldn’t stop saying it.  I couldn’t stop. And suddenly every woman in the bathhouse became Delia, and they all started to walk toward me and crowd around me. I spun around, feeling claustrophobic, and I screamed. I screamed, and I screamed, and I screamed. And It was at that point that the crowd of Delias guided me into the pool.  

Dipped my head down into the water like a baptism.  And I saw her majestic girlcock,  like an underwater scepter, and I swam to it. I swam and I swam and I swam until I grasped it and pulled myself close, wrapping my mouth around the large head of it, dislocating my jaw like a snake I took her in.  I took her in, and I gave her pleasure. I felt the salt of her body mingle with the salt of the water, the brine of the water.  And it made my head dizzy, and my body alert and aroused.

____

I woke up to the sound of Sven and Delia’s voices talking and huddled close over the laptop. I decided to just lie there and listen to them for a while, not wanting to move, not wanting to reveal that I was awake yet.

I was hard as a rock again. My clit was throbbing, and I was dimly aware that I was still on Delia’s lap. I could smell her body wash and her sweat, which was admittedly better than the olives and onions on her pizza.  I opened my eyes and saw that it was dark. She’d draped her hoodie over my head. I stirred like I was asleep. And immediately felt her girlcock through her jumper against my ear. 

Her conversation with Sven kept going; maybe I’d moved my head before in my nap.  How long had it been anyway? This is the second time I woke up horny as hell dreaming about someone else other than my husband. Maybe that non-monogamy thing was a better idea than I thought.  

I stirred again; she felt bigger than Sven. I tried to remember the quick glance I had of her when they were in the parking garage and failed. She’d pulled out and ran away so fast I didn’t have time to get a good peek at her - just enough to know she didn’t have the same equipment I had, but nothing more than that.  It made me think she had a habit of pulling out and running away like she’d done such things often. 

I was feeling more awake now,  not as overwhelmed about the decisions ahead of me and more curious about the woman whose lap I was lying on. I could smell alcohol - they’d ordered drinks while I was asleep.  Guess I would have to be the one that drove us home. I felt her girlcock move against me, and gasped before I could hold the sound back.  And she went still, pulling back the hoodie to look down at me.  

“Look who's awake!” she beamed. I looked up at her and Gawwd she’s gorgeous! I smiled at her hoping it wasn't’ too … goofy and swoony of a smile. 

Delia laughed.  

“Are you alright now?”

“I’m better, yes, thanks,” I replied.  My voice was rough and  gravelly.  

“What time is it? How long was I out?”

“Only a few hours.  You must have needed the rest. We ordered some beers,  and just got talking. And then we started looking at stupid videos online and laughing.  You want a beer?’

“No, I’m okay.  I can be the designated driver,” I said with a stretch, and I half turned, and I felt my clit throb again.  

“Are you okay?”  Delia asked. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, not at all. Why?”

“I dreamt about you.”

“Really? Did you hurt me in the dream?”

“No.”

“What was I doing in the dream?”

I hesitated.  “Taking a bath and getting sucked off by a scuba diver that was really me, but I didn’t know it was me at the time.”;

Delia chuckled,  “...heh, yeah, that sounds like a dream someone would have in someone’s lap.” 

“Yeah. But now I can’t stop thinking about it. S-Sorry… I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“This is the second time she’s woken up horny as hell today.”

“Maybe she’s ovulating?”  Delia offered. 

“I don’t have ovulation libido spikes.” I pouted.  “Do I?”

“I don’t know. Our sex life isn’t the best track record for your libido, if I recall correctly,” Sven said

“Why isn’t it?”  Delia asked. 

“He hasn’t always been able to make me cum, that’s a recent … achievement.”

“Ohh. That’s why he was emotionally vulnerable to hook up with me then?”

“It appears so, yes.”

“And ever since you saw us together, you’ve been curious about me as well, is that it?”

I blinked at her.  Great, both of them are going to be super perceptive?! I’m doomed.  

“You could say that, yeah.”

“Nothing wrong with that, given we’re all consenting to this now, right?”

“Right.”

“You want to do something to make it official?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have sex to christen our new arrangement, of course."

“You and me or all three of us?”

Delia looked over at Sven, then back at me.  

“Both,”  she said with a grin.

“Well, I am right here… what if I just … take a taste .. I hardly think  Ubaldo and Bellamy will mind. Sven and I used to do similar in our earlier years, in this very booth.”

“You too, huh? Well, it won’t be the first time I’ve gotten sucked off in this booth either. So go ahead.”

I turned my head.  “You’re wearing a jumper…”

“Yeah, but uh… it has easy access snaps between the legs.”

“Oh, nice. “

I turned the other way to get to the snaps. She parted her legs for me to help me along. Sven was licking his lips, watching us. I got her unsnapped and raised the fabric up her hips, turning to see her bulge - it was very feminine in her choice of pink underwear. 

There was a wet spot, and it made me smile. I looked up at her looking down at me, as I rolled her panties down and her girlcock slipped free. She was about the same size as Sven, but she had much more girth, and she was circumcised. I turned to take her into my mouth. 

Delia was quiet in an experienced exhibitionist way, I felt. Like she was used to getting off in public and learned to keep her sounds quiet so as not to get herself caught. It was a titillating thought, given her profession. Knowing she was this much of a risk taker and this painstakingly careful turned me on more. I sucked as deep as I could at this weird angle.  

Lost in the sensation of her in my mouth, I closed my eyes and pulled her hoodie back over my head so I could just enjoy the sensation of my mouth being used without the distracting elements of the lights of the restaurant.  

The second I did that I felt her clear her throat over a moan and her legs parted a bit more for me. I kept at it. I found I missed having the foreskin to play with as I sucked. But I’d get used to it. Get used to her. I wanted to get used to her in my life. She was quickly becoming a favorite light fixture I’d found in a bargain bin but made the whole house just work in how she brought harmony to any space she was in. She definitely harmonized me and Sven!

It felt insane how attached I was to her already, given how only yesterday she was balls deep in my husband.   But then again, that U-Haul lesbians stereotype had to come from somewhere to have any merit, didn't it? And there I was imagining being U-Haul lesbians with Delia when she was suddenly cumming down my throat with a breaking sigh, and I did my best to swallow every drop. 

Tucking her back into her panties, I pulled the hoodie off my head and looked up at her, licking her lips.  “It’s official now,” I said. 

“Yeah,” she replied, winded, her eyes still looking dilated.  

“What do you want me to call you?” I asked. 

“What do you mean?”

“Girlfriend? Lover? Shag Partner?  Do you have a preferred term for … significant othering?”

“Oh, uhm… girlfriend works. I’m down for dates and stuff, not just fucking.  And lover sounds so …temporary like a summer fling. A girlfriend at least has the potential for the long term.” 

I smiled at her.  “Long term is good.”

“Long term is good.” Sven echoed me. 

Delia turned to look at him. I watched her reach out her hand to hold his. 

Well,  It would be nice to say that, after this side quest of becoming a throuple and after sucking my new girlfriend’s cock, I had enough clarity to make the life decision on if I was going to take Friarheart up on their job offer. But I didn’t. I was still in the wind on that decision. But hey, I have 24 hours left.

There’s no chance I’ll get side tracked again, with some other hot girl that wanders in my life now is there?