In the month since Randy and I began our open relationship, things had been going quite well: the rules were simple enough to follow, I’d made a few new friends, the sex was incredible, and save for one embarrassing night, we’d managed not to walk in on one another with other partners.  As far as I knew very few people were aware of our new status. I’d told Claire; she’d been shocked and feigned support since we had been friends for so long – I’m sure she told her boyfriend, Luke.  Drew knew; he had to, or else he would have scolded Randy for cheating on me; we really weren’t trying to keep it a secret from anyone other than our parents, but then again, who goes around talking about their sex life anyway? 

I sat in front of the mirror, double and triple checking that my hair and makeup looked good. It was a Sunday night, and Claire had invited me to Charley's Lounge on Beacon Street to see one of her friends perform at the open-mic night.  Randy had been a bit upset that I’d agreed to go since it was during the weekend and our rule was that weekends were for us. I’d reminded him that I was going to a show with Claire and our rules were specifically concerning sleeping with other people.  Eventually, he consented. 

My phone lit up and sounded that same “dun duh” from Law and Order; one day, I’d have to remember to change it.  It was Claire, announcing her arrival in approximately five minutes.  The drive from Quincy to Beacon Street was just over twenty minutes if I-93 was clear, so we’d arrive maybe fifteen minutes before the show started.  I glanced in the mirror one last time. I’d gone with a knee-length skirt, black tee, and topped it off with a white cropped jacket; it was simple, but it should suffice. 

Traffic was pretty clear, a gift from the gods of Boston I suppose. About halfway there Claire turned the radio down saying, “So, the reason I invited you is that I wanted to introduce you to the singer.  Her name is Ophelia. Great voice and she’s definitely down if you know what I mean.”

“What?” I asked.

“You know.  The whole Riley-Randy-fucking-other-people thing you’ve got going on.”

“Oh,” I said, “I thought you were weirded out by that.”

Claire laughed, “Rye, you’re my best friend. I want you to have a good time.”

“Thanks,” I said, smiling.

Charley's had a respectable crowd going by the time we arrived, Claire and I forced our way into the restaurant and sat as close to the front as we could manage.  At precisely 8 PM a well-dressed man with big glasses took the stage.

“Good evening, everyone,” he said, “and welcome to Charley's!  I’m Eric, your host for this evening’s entertainment.  Before we get started, a few announcements: first, a shameless plug for my new album out now. It's called ‘Sunrays,’ you can find it on YouTube and Spotify.  As you’re probably aware, it’s Sunday night, open-mic night here at Charley's– if you want to see yourself on this stage, remember sign-ups are posted every Wednesday.  Monday night is trivia night, so bring a friend tomorrow, have a bite and play some trivia – you might even win some fabulous prizes.  For questions, comments, or concerns, email us on our website; you can also find us on Facebook and Twitter.  Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage the A-Minor Band!” 

Applause filled the room as A-Minor took the stage. Ophelia was an attractive young black woman with a lighter complexion.  She sported corn rows, a button-down shirt, and jeans.  Simple, comfortable, just right.  Her guitarist was a white guy with shoulder-length hair and an expensive looking acoustic-electric. 

Ophelia stepped up to the microphone. “Thank you all for coming; we are A-Minor, I’m Ophelia, he’s Tyler; just so you know, we are looking for a drummer.  We hope you enjoy our music.” 

They played for about half an hour; the music was mesmerizing. Somewhere in the middle of the second song, Ophelia’s melodic voice pulled me from the lounge into a world of private bliss.  Following the show, Ophelia and Tyler joined our table; looking me directly in the eyes Ophelia said, “Hey, you must be Riley.  I heard you’re staying at my place tonight.” 

I glanced over to Claire who gave a quick wink.  “Yeah,” I said, “I guess so.”

“Great,” she said, “give us a few minutes to pack up, and we’ll be on our way.”  I nodded my understanding.  Claire and I parted ways by hugging and wishing one another a good night; she told me to call her when I got home. I wasn’t sure when I’d be getting home, but I promised I would.

A little while later Tyler, Ophelia, and I had parked in front of a small house in Danvers. They welcomed me inside, asking if I needed anything before heading upstairs for the evening.  I didn’t, so Ophelia led me to her room.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she commanded, motioning to my clothes. 

“Thanks,” I replied before stripping down to my underwear. I folded my clothes and placed them in a neat pile near the door.

“Claire was right; you are a dish,” Ophelia said, slipping out of her clothes. She wore a green bra which gently cradled her nicely formed breasts and a matching pair of panties.  The green worked well against her complexion.

“When was the last time you were with a woman?” she asked, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“Actually, never,” I said, “just a couple of guys.”

Ophelia raised her eyebrows. “Well then, please, let me do all the work.” 

I lay back, closing my eyes as this beautiful woman kissed me softly, silently gliding my panties down.  She broke the kiss, making her way between my legs. I opened them for her.  She was gentle, working on my body like it was a fragile thing, I loved every moment of it.  I gasped with pleasure as she closed her lips around my clit; I moaned as she slipped a finger into me.  Ophelia’s gentle touch aroused me, my heart pounded, my breath quickened, I wanted more.  I put my hands on the back of her head and arched my hips toward her, letting her know I needed more.

As I neared climax Tyler’s voice came from across the room. “I know you weren’t planning on keeping her all to yourself, were you, O?” 

Ophelia and I looked up at Tyler, startled. My cheeks flushed red with the knowledge that he had been watching, especially since I wasn’t sure for how long.  He was naked, and (not surprisingly) aroused; he was very fit, and his cock was longer than most I’d seen.  If anything, he could stand a little more girth, but it was a pretty cock. 

Ophelia looked at me quizzically. “Well, what do you say? Should he join us?” 

I looked again at his body and nodded my approval.

“Well,” said Ophelia, “looks like it's your lucky day; come over here, big boy.” 

Tyler climbed between my legs as Ophelia straddled my face.  I lifted my shoulders off the bed, grabbing her legs for support, and began toying at her the way she had done for me.  Tyler moaned as he pushed himself inside; it made me hornier knowing I caused it.  The three of us created a rhythm, Tyler’s cock sliding in and out of me serving as the bass, keeping everything in time.  In between thrusts, I’d alternate between licking and sucking at Ophelia’s pussy.  Our moans and breathless pants accented the rest. 

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t tried something like this before; having two people at the same time was incredibly arousing. It would have to become a regular occurrence. 

We changed positions; with Tyler on his back, Ophelia straddled him, and I slid back onto his cock.  He was very hard, and probably almost ready to orgasm; the warm stiffness felt great.  I smiled at Ophelia, taking pleasure in watching her reactions to whatever it was that Tyler was doing to her as he pounded me.  We leaned into one another to share a make-out session on top of our male friend.

The threesome was probably the most erotic sex I’d ever had, and definitely the best orgasm; by the end of the night, I was too tired to head all the way back to Quincy.  I fell asleep in Ophelia’s arms with Tyler being my big spoon. 

The next morning I had a few texts from Randy asking if I was coming home or not; of course, I hadn’t.  I finally made it to his house just after noon.

“Randy,” I called out as I walked into the house.

“Hey, Rye, how was the show?” he asked.

“Wonderful, actually,” I said.

“And what’d you do afterward?”

“Well,” I began, “I had a threesome.”

“Riley! Sundays…weekends are supposed to be just for us, remember?  It’s a simple rule.”

“You’re right,” I said, looking at the ground, “I guess you’ll have to spank me.”

-----Author's Note-----

Hey all!  As usual, I hope you enjoyed the short story about Riley; if so please, please comment and vote on the story.  I really love the feedback.  Thanks again for reading!