I heard the sound of crumpling steel from the other side of the lot where I had just parked.

Fucking A, not tonight.

Walking back over to see if it was my car that had been hit, the box of chocolates still in my hand, I heard doors slamming. Followed by a couple arguing. I caught a snippet of a woman’s voice saying, “Worst fucking Valentine’s Day,”

Yeah, well, my girlfriend has just broken up with me at Valentine’s Day dinner. Top that, lady.

Knowing my return to the dating market was a bad time to binge three thousand calories, I’d been planning to drop the sweets in the trash can by the front door of my apartment building.

On second thought, fuck that.

My Maslow pyramid had just had a level knocked out and I was scrambling to shore it up. Or maybe it was, more simply, Pavlov calling. My mouth was watering, after all. Or … hey, wasn’t self-indulgence one of the Kubler-Ross stages of grief? Sorry, I only remembered enough Psych 101 to know that some shrink with a Euro name held the explanation for my needy, greedy impulses. And their name wasn’t Sigmund.

If I couldn’t taste Pamela’s tangy, frothy juices tonight, I was going to guzzle that bottle of bubbly already chilling in the fridge. Maybe even pour some over myself while I pleasured myself in the shower.

And If I couldn’t get into Pamela’s box anymore, I had another tasty box to work through. I’d begun to run some of the flavors through my imagination as I crossed the parking lot. Salted caramel. Dark chocolate praline. Almond toffee crunch. Lemon delight. Champagne truffle. Strawberry liqueur.

Raspberry. Fucking. Buttercream.

Hell, I was practically having a compensatory sexual fantasy just thinking of the flavors. Maybe, when I was done, I would fuck the heart-shaped box itself, full of all those little crinkly paper wrappers, and load it up with cum.

I gripped the little box of pleasures extra tightly as I passed the trash can. Fuck you, Bin, those chocolates were going in MY belly, not yours.

It was then that I heard the crunch. And the arguing.

The couple, whom I recognized from shared elevator rides in the building, looked chastened enough. “We are sooooo sorry,” the woman offered, speaking for them both even though the man had been driving. “I think we got a little wrapped up in … conversation, and misjudged pulling into the space.”

The man grunted something in response to the word “conversation.” It didn’t take a genius to deduce that they’d been arguing before the incident.

I was as polite as they were contrite. Even if getting my car fixed would be a pain in the ass, I wasn’t the kind of guy to get worked up over something like this.

There was a pretty good-sized dent in my driver’s door, but no other body panels showed even a scratch. That would help keep the repair cost down.

The guy finally spoke his first words. “I’m so sorry, man …” And yet he still ran out of words mid-sentence.

“We will absolutely make this up to you, one way or another,“ the woman said, “but it’s kind of cold out here.”

Only now did I notice her wispy, low-cut black dress. Indeed a bit light for standing around on a chilly February evening.

She may have noticed the decisecond that my eyes lingered. She smiled charmingly. “Why don’t you come upstairs, let us fix you a drink, exchange … information, and figure out how we can make things right with you?”

Her beauty was suddenly hard to ignore: tan skin, nice smile, warm brown eyes, long black hair with the slightest tinge of red. She was fairly slender, but her pear-shaped hips swayed ever so slightly more than necessary as we approached the building. Damn.

“I’m Julie, by the way,” she said, offering her hand as we went in. “And that’s Kent.”

I shook Julie’s slim hand, then Kent’s thick one. He was a man of few words but many muscles. I now remembered seeing him going to the building's gym regularly. He was the type of guy women often swoon over: beefcakey and good-looking, with long, wavy black hair. I remember being a bit intimidated by his physique and lack of verbality during elevator encounters. He sure didn’t seem threatening right now, though.

Once in their apartment, Kent asked - actual words! - what kind of drink I’d like, and set to work pouring. For my part, I opened up the box of chocolates to share.

“Sorry you had to see us bickering down there,” Julie said. “It hasn’t been our best Valentine’s Day.”

“Mine either.”

“Aww, how come?” she asked empathetically.

“Well, my girlfriend and I broke up.”

“Dude, that sucks!” said Kent. Well, at least the man was capable of empathy. “Okay, your night is way worse than ours.” He shot Julie an anxious look. “At least so far. And then we hit your car. We gotta make this up to you.”

“Which leads us to the question,” Julie followed, smiling, “of how to make you whole.”

“Well, do you want to go through insurance or skip that whole mess? I can go either way.”

“Oh, I do like flexibility in a man,” she said, now using a decidedly flirtatious tone. “We’d rather not involve insurance if we don’t have to.”

“The thing is,” she continued, placing her hand on mine for a moment, “we’re a little short on cash right now. Kentie is between jobs - he starts at his new firm in two weeks - and I’ve been covering expenses for us.”

“I can see how that could lead to some difficulties.”

“That isn’t why we were arguing, though,” Julie said in response to my inference. Kent’s shoulders slumped in apparent embarrassment. “Kent betrayed me this week.”

“You see, Joe,” she explained softly, “we have discussed maybe opening our relationship. But today I found out that Kent blabbed about this to someone hot that he used to work with. It turns out he was already lining up a threesome, even though I'd made it very clear I wanted for us both to experiment separately before stepping up to that level.”

She looked directly into my eyes, leaning in further. “But since Kent has let that genie of the bottle, Joe, I have a proposal for him to compensate me for what he did to me …” Now she placed a hand on my shoulder. “And, at the same time, for us to compensate you for the damage to your car.” Her arms encircled my neck, the smells of chocolate and alcohol on her breath as seductive as her smile and figure. “Do you think we could make a deal?”

Paying for the repair myself would put a sizable hole in my wallet. But you only live once, right? Seemed a fair deal, at least compared to the average Nevada brothel. Not that I knew from experience, mind you.

I nodded, no more able to speak than poor Kent.

Julie’s soft red lips were instantly on mine. Damn, she was a good kisser. Maybe she should be, for the thousand bucks or more that this was going to cost me.

Wait a minute. I wasn’t paying her, though. They were doing this in payment to me. Did that make me the whore here? Yet I was the one who was going to be out money. Hell, I was too confused by Julie’s skillful tongue work to care who was a whore. Maybe we all were tonight. Fuck it, I didn’t care.

Julie’s lips had moved to my earlobes by the time I finished these thoughts. Then I hungrily took the initiative, kissing down her neckline and slipping her dress straps down her shoulders. I sucked on her clavicle while squeezing a nice, soft, perfectly handful-sized breast.

She moaned in response. “How you doing over there, Kentie?”

He moaned too. Funny, it sounded less like a moan of humiliation than one of growing arousal.

I started sucking on her supple breasts, first one, then the other, then squeezing them together with both hands and licking back and forth across the nipples.

Her dress now on the floor, and no panties impeding my way, I ventured one of my hands downward, quickly finding her hard little nubbin. She kissed my neck again, undoing my tie and unbuttoning my shirt. Then she unbuttoned my pants and let me shimmy out of them while I explored her warm, glistening folds. Next, she fondled my straining cock through my briefs while I probed a finger inwards.

She dropped to her knees, pulling my underwear down, licking the end of my desperate dong and humming as she tasted my precum.

I felt Julie’s warm mouth enveloping me, my knees almost buckling as my cockhead brushed the back of her throat and my pubes brushed her lips. She held this, and her breath, for a number of seconds while her tongue flitted around underneath my shaft. It was a wonder I could remain standing.

Damn, if guys like him could get girls like this, maybe I ought to work out more.

Okay, okay. I'd go to the gym. Tomorrow. I swore.

After the chocolates.

Julie stood up and led us both to the bedroom, grabbing my tie from the floor. She deftly bound Kent’s hands behind his rippled back with the tie, directing him to stand and watch us.

She climbed onto the bed on all fours. I got behind her, rubbing my plum against her peach and collecting juices before slipping inside just an inch. “Oh, fuuuck,” moaned Julie as I pulled back out and dragged the tip of my tool back and forth between her luscious lips.

“Put it in!” Julie begged. I rode her chute all the way in until I tickled her cervix. She shuddered and moaned loudly as I held myself in, pulled all the way out, then drove myself home a second time. Another deep moan. This time she squeezed her Kegels a couple of times while I was holding myself all the way in. Damn, she was good at everything.

“Oh yeah Joe, that’s just the way I want it. Slap my ass! You need to punish us for what we did."

Apparently, Kent’s "punishment" in all this was being forced to watch while I spanked his girlfriend, but at the moment it didn’t seem very punitive. He was positively grinning.

It didn't matter, because I was finding this bodily compensation worth every damn penny the body shop would charge me later. I pumped Julie with long, deep, determined strokes, lightly smacking her cute little ass cheeks each time I pulled out. Finally, I reached my limit, holding myself in at the hilt, reaching around to grab a tit and spurting deep into her recesses.

“Mmm, that was nice, Joe.” She laid back on the bed, her legs over the edge, and beckoned Kent over. “Kent, you have made a mess of our relationship. A real man takes responsibility and cleans up his messes. ”

Obediently, Kent came over, throwing me a wink. Hands still tied behind his back, he kneeled and leaned against the bed, shoving his head between Julie’s legs. The combined sounds of her moans and his sloppy slurping of my secondhand semen were positively obscene, erecting me again almost immediately.

Julie beckoned me to kneel next to her head, and started sucking the same juices off me that Kent was licking out of her.

“Squeeze my tits.” I leaned down to work her soft mounds.

She whined and twisted her body with increasing intensity as I squeezed her points alternately, my manhood finally slipping out of her mouth with a pop.

Now squealing louder and louder from Kent's licking, she implored, “Cover my mouth.”

I managed to clamp my other hand over her mouth just as the squealing escalated to screaming. After a few seconds of this, she went over the edge, breaking out in sweaty goosebumps and then going limp.

Julie turned to me, her legs still in the air as Kent sat up. “Tell me something, Joe. Have you ever fucked someone in the ass?”

I hadn't, but I was fully hard again and would gladly take her tight little hole. Like I said earlier, you only live once.

Just as I was about to get into position behind her, she rolled off the bed. "Kent needs to face more consequences for hitting your car." She grabbed something from the drawer of her nightstand. “Here, I’ll get him ready.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Uh, I'd kinda been anticipating her round little ass, not his beefy one.

Oh well. You only live once, right?

Julie got off the bed, unbound Kent and helped him get undressed. Then she had him get all fours on the floor, facing the bed. She pried his muscular buttocks apart and started licking between them. Applying some lube to her fingers, she slipped in one finger and then two.

“Time to get pegged for real, Kent.” She slapped his hard ass, hard, and motioned me in.

“I've earned it, Joe,” said Kent as I rubbed my tip around between his cheeks, same as I’d done to Julie’s cunt. Then I eased in an inch or two until I encountered a bit of resistance, pulled out, and then gingerly worked myself all the way in. Again, much as I had done to Julie.

They both cheered me on as I drove into him with the same long, deep action I’d given his girlfriend, punctuated by moderate ass-slaps between thrusts. It felt surprisingly nice, actually.

Eventually, I became aware of the feeling of our balls hitting each other. Still figuring that you only live once, I reached down, briefly pausing the pumping while I cupped and rolled them together.

“Ohhhhhh!” moaned Kent.

“Ooooooh!” squealed Julie, climbing on the bed once again for Kent to feast on her feminine flesh.

I found my pleasure building after a few minutes, my pace increasing. Julie demanded that I pull out and cum on Kent’s face.

Aww man, by now I'd actually been looking forward to filling Kent’s funnel. Instead, I stood as he knelt in front of me. Julie pressed her boobs into my back, taking control of my joystick and splatting a few choice globs onto Kent’s face and chest.

She pulled him to his feet and drew herself in to kiss his cum-speckled face. “I’m proud of you, Kentie.”

Turning to me with a grin, she declared, “I think Kent and I are square, but you deserve more compensation than this.” I gave her a puzzled look. Sure had seemed adequate to me.

“How about an installment plan? You can come back at the same time next week.”

I still took the rest of the chocolates home with me.