It was mid-morning when, a few days later, Justine was finishing a calculus assignment. She had class in an hour.

There was a knock at the door. Her roommate Margaret had cleared out early, and Justine was still in her nightwear, a Wile E. Coyote t-shirt over light blue cotton shorts.

She looked in the peephole. It was Bryce. Jesus, it was Bryce!

Something impelled Justine to yank the door open before she could have any other thoughts, or make herself more appropriate, or chicken out.

They broke into smiles. She waved him in quickly, hoping to keep things discreet. But then, who really cared at this point? Why shouldn’t Bryce enter her room at 10:02 AM on a Thursday?

“Welcome to my abode.” Justine curled a strand of hair over her left ear.

“I like it. Hey, I haven’t seen you with your hair down before. It’s beautiful.”

Unconvincingly, Justine swatted away the compliment with a nervous hand as blood rushed to her face. She put both hands on her hips, dropped them to her side, then put them back again. She felt like an idiot.

“It’s a little warm. Mind if I take off this sweatshirt?”

Justine nodded quickly, momentarily at a loss for words.

Bryce’s voice went low and soft and he looked off to the corner of the room, as though he were shy. “Well, I just…I been thinking about you a lot, Justine. This morning, I thought I would go crazy if I didn’t lay eyes on you. I hope I’m not being pushy, you know, but…”

Justine nodded and held Bryce’s gaze. “I know exactly what you mean.”

They collided in the middle of the room. Instinctively, she grabbed his tense bicep with one hand, the other arm swinging awkwardly. Bryce's palm found her cheek, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. Her knees nearly buckled and her lips parted with a gasp. He drew her mouth to his and stopped short at the last instant to contemplate her expression. And maybe her freckles and her morning face. He could sense her desire, mixed with a charming confusion.

She put her pink mouth on his large, soft lips. The moment was like a stubborn cork finally popping from a long-coveted vintage. For several minutes, they devoured each other’s faces. A slow river of lust coursed from her lips to her spine and all of her lady parts. The nervous tension in her arms and back melted away. She surrendered to the contours of his chest. A man’s chest, she thought.

She sighed and pulled back to look into his hungry dark eyes. They opened onto her with a fullness of sexual intent she had never experienced before.

“You’re the first black guy I ever kissed.”

“And that excites you?”

“Uh-huh,” she laughed and nodded. She still had clothes on, but her desire was naked before him.

“I can tell,” he said brashly.

Bryce ran his big hand from her cheek down to her waist, careful and certain, a slow staking of claim. She was all too ready for him. Something about this guy drove her crazy.

His body pressed against her. The hardness at his crotch was unmistakable, but he didn’t push himself on her. He let her sense it. She tasted spearmint on his breath, and felt the faint scrape of stubble on his chin. Her thighs shivered and there was a tightening in her pelvis.

Bryce studied her expression. His smile was sly, but his eyes were gentle. “Did you just wake up?”

She was weirdly pleased by the question, as if he liked her better disheveled, not made up for anybody. “Kind of.”

“I like you this way.”

“I like you,” she said.

“But you’re worried about something.”

“Oh, just… well, I have class at 11.” She looked down abruptly with a slight frown.

“And you’re… thinking about Allen, right?”

Justine looked up with big eyes. She thought about dodging the question but found herself nodding anyway. “Yeah,” she said with a gulp. It seemed she ought to feel guilty for talking to Bryce about her sweetheart. Instead, she felt a weird thrill.

Bryce stroked her cheek again, this time gently with the back of his fingers. She couldn’t believe anyone could make her this horny. The thought of Allen, however, wouldn’t leave her alone.

“I really want you, Bryce. But I want to be totally sure about him. It’s like, I’m stuck or something. I just don’t want to hurt him.”

“You said he already knows about this? About you and me?”

“Yeah. I told him. And he said it’s okay. But he’s also… I dunno. He’s holding something back.”

“Okay, yeah. Hey, can I read that email he sent you?”

Justine’s eyes widened. She felt like it might be wrong. But since it was about Bryce and her, and everything they were sharing with each other, maybe it was okay.

“Can I ask why you want to see it?”

“Well, I can tell you if he sounds like a cuck.”

There it was again. The cuckold thing. She wasn’t surprised that Bryce knew about it. Another wave of excitement went down her spine.

“Okay,” she said.

He read quietly, then handed back the phone. “Yeah, he wants it bad. He won’t say it openly. But trust me. He’s thinking about us, jerking off.”

“You and I might be a little biased at the moment,” Justine quipped. “I think I need to get more assurance from him. I’m sorry! I’m so turned on, and I know you are too! But I have to go to class anyway,” she said, glancing at the clock, but hardly noticing the time.

Bryce cocked an eyebrow and broke into a relaxed smile. “Okay! That’s cool. You really care about him a lot, and I respect that.”

He didn’t, however, move his hand off of her waist. Justine liked that. And she felt another wave of desire for him, now that he spoke so respectfully, and showed he was willing to delay his lust. But she didn’t want to jerk him around. In her confusion, she smiled faintly as her eyes flicked from his mouth to his chest and back again.

“You know, umm, I should tell you something,” said Bryce. “Last year, I dated a girl here who had a long-distance high school boyfriend, just like you. I learned a few things. That’s how I know about guys who are into the cuckold thing.”

He met her gaze openly, and Justine felt another hot blush start at her ears.

“So what did you learn?” she asked. Her voice came out softer than she meant.

He shrugged, then looked down at his hands. “Well, the guys like to pretend it’s not happening until they really want it to happen. It’s like, they need to get through the guilt first, and then once they give themselves permission…” He left the sentence hanging as he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. Justine tried to keep her expression steady. She imagined a secret little garden deep inside her that could finally open its petals to the sun.

“Oh,” she said. “That would explain why he’s been shy about this recently. Since that email. I’ve been afraid he’s pulling away from me. But maybe it’s like you say, he’s wrestling with the guilt, or the embarrassment, or whatever it is.”

“For sure, he has the fantasy. But how he lives it out, that’s another thing.”

“So you had that thing last year. Is that your only experience with this?”

“Yeah. But I found some forums where people talk about this shit, and it’s a whole world. A lot of different types of people. The patterns are pretty regular, though.”

“What are some of the patterns?”

Bryce pursed his lips to keep from smiling. “A guy with cuckold fantasies… he typically likes it if the other guy has a bigger cock.” Bryce said it matter-of-factly, but looked her dead in the eye. Justine had to look down. “Uh, and if he’s black, that turns them on too. The white guys, I mean. I assume Allen is white?”

“Oh, yeah, he is.” Justine tried to smile through her embarrassment. She caressed Bryce’s biceps. “I haven’t told Allen that you’re black. He wouldn’t object, I mean. But I don’t know if it would turn him on.”

“Like it turns you on?”

A lustful smile spread across Justine’s face.

Bryce kissed her again. This time it was softer, less urgent, and she felt the warmth cresting in her cheeks. She didn’t want to think about Allen, or the fact that she had class in twenty minutes, or that she was standing here in a t-shirt and shorts with no bra, letting a person she barely knew put his hands all over her. They came up for air, and she leaned into his chest.

“I have an idea,” said Bryce. “I could try texting him.”

Justine threw him a puzzled look.

“I know, but just hear me out. With the thing last year, I got to know the guy once things were in a groove. And we were sort of like, friends almost. And it was all cool. Before that, though, there was drama. She’d be up and down emotionally because of what he said or didn’t say. I don’t even remember. But once he and I started texting, everything got easier and more comfortable.”

“Now I’m intrigued,” said Justine. “Allen is shy, but he can also be incredibly gracious and comfortable in social situations. He has good manners, better than me anyway. So maybe it could… well, I don’t know.”

“You think he can handle it?”

“I think so? But I’m afraid he’ll be really mad at me.”

“I don’t think he will. Take another look at that email he wrote you. He’s very excited about this.” Bryce subtly squeezed Justine’s waist when he said the words about this; she felt a glow in her pussy. “And he even says something like, ‘maybe you have room for both of us in your life,’ right? He got this ball rolling, right? Or maybe you did, and he gave it a big push.”

Justine weighed everything, the twist and tumble of her desires, up against the ache for Allen’s comfort. “He’s fine with me texting about this with you. I guess it couldn’t hurt.” But the idea of the two of them directly messaging made her uneasy. There was a risk here, like jumping into cold water without knowing how deep it was.

“I remember when you danced with me at that party,” said Bryce. Justine brightened. “I knew it was cocky to lift you by the hips like that. But I felt you were going to like it. And it seemed like you did.” Bryce’s voice seemed to drop lower and lower. Justine’s breath caught in her throat and her lips parted.

He moved swiftly. She was off the ground all of a sudden, and he was carrying her with his big hands, gripping her ass cheeks, and fixing her with a stare. He stopped in front of the bed and held her there. She felt like a doll. She wiggled her hips until she felt him poking through to her damp, slutty crotch. “Ohhh, Bryce. Set me down.” He did.

Justine was sitting on the edge of the bed as Bryce loomed over her, beaming joyfully. She eyed him with big eyes, and licked her lips instinctively. Then put forth her hand, like Eve in the garden, and squeezed the generous manhood aching beneath his sweat pants. “I’m dying to see this.”

She was never going to make that class.

*******

[Text messages]

Bryce Hey, Allen, this is Bryce. I hope you don't mind me reaching out like this. I just wanted to open the door, you know, maybe laugh a bit about school and all of it. Peace, my man.

Allen I guess there's a first time for everything, lol

Bryce LMFAO, bro! Nice one, I like that.

Allen Seriously, though, thanks. I'm not going to pretend this isn't awkward. But I also don't see a reason not to be friendly.

Bryce Yeah, honest. I like that too. It doesn't have to be awkward. Let's just be friends. So, about me...I'm from Chicago, my major is Economics, and I'm doing a bit of student government. Outgoing as hell (obvs!)

Allen Okay, cool. I have to get to class, but we can keep this going later. Peace.

*******

The cold November wind in Massachusetts brought relief to Allen’s flushed cheeks. Those texts from Bryce left him shaking his head. Crazy that Justine gave him his number. Maybe not cool, some would say.

He cut across the quad, taking the long way. Lately, it seemed like he couldn’t get enough time outside, mostly walking and running. Anything to clear his mind and help him think. He wished he had someone to confide in.

The truth was, he liked hearing from Bryce. Maybe it never should have happened. But he still liked it. And Bryce himself seemed like not a bad dude. Clear, direct, full of swagger.

Allen didn’t have to shake his hand, hear his voice, or look him in the eye. There was something freeing about text only. Was Bryce right, that it didn’t need to be awkward? Probably, he had ice in his veins, not afraid of anything. It took huge balls, Allen thought, to cold text a guy he didn’t know, whose girlfriend he wanted to lay.

What was he going to say to Bryce? He couldn’t think of anything. Mostly, Allen just had questions.

Whatever. The immediate question was, what should he say to Justine? Should he be angry, humorous, cool, inquisitive… He always had too many questions for himself, not knowing how he should handle life.

He started a long text to Justine. He was trying to ask her, in so many words, what she had been up to with Bryce recently, physically and emotionally. But he erased it all and started over.

Allen Why did you give Bryce my number, lol?

Had she thought it would be funny, or was she playing some weird game? He wondered if she would admit it. Her reply was instant.

Justine Sorry!!! He really wanted to reach out. I thought you’d just ignore him if you weren’t into it. I hope you’re okay with it. Tell me if not.

Allen smiled despite himself. That was Justine: three exclamation marks of pure energy, followed immediately by a self-conscious footnote. She always acted like she was more trouble than she was worth. He thought about her phrasing. “Okay with it.” “Into it.” He felt a warm fullness in the proverbial family jewels.

Allen I don’t mind, tbh. It’s sort of fascinating.

Justine I’m so curious. How is it fascinating?

Had Allen just painted himself into a corner? Why was he the one answering questions? She and Bryce were the ones having an affair, or whatever it was (and were they?). And she was the one still treating him like a traditional boyfriend, while arranging for her paramour to be Allen’s new pen pal. It seemed like, if any of his friends from home knew about this, they would think she was pulling some crazy mind fuck on him. And, to his chagrin, he didn’t know if they’d be wrong.

Ugghhh. He needed help.

Allen It’s fascinating because we’re both being polite when the situation is kind of… primal.

Justine Ironic, but also, like, what if you and Bryce are two wolves fighting over me, but you’re both wearing tuxedos and having tea and cookies the whole time.

Allen grinned and stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. That was so perfectly her. Before he could reply, another message arrived.

Justine I kind of love that you two are talking, btw. But if you need me to stay out of it, tell me.

He paused, surprised by the weight in his stomach. He didn’t want her to stay out of it. That wasn’t the problem.

Allen Not at all, please keep meddling. It’s better that way. I trust you. And I ain’t no wolf, you know that.

She replied with a string of heart emojis that felt surprisingly sincere. A minute later, a voice message appeared. This was not her usual style. Her voice was soft, a little breathy, and sounded more like her than it had in weeks.

Justine "You know I love you, Allen. I don’t want you to feel weird. I think you’re the only one who really knows me. I wish I could see you. For real, I mean. And I want you to know that nothing feels right unless you’re okay. I’m sorry for making things complicated or hard. Hugging and kissing you."

It was so personal and thoughtful that Allen felt a lump in his throat. He wondered if Bryce appreciated her mind at all, or knew her personality. Well, not like he did. He felt that Bryce could never know Justine the way he did.

Allen That voice message was so touching, my sugar. I love you too. I’m going to write you another email in a few hours.

It was time for class. But there was no way to empty his mind of Justine and Bryce on this cold afternoon.