Three Little Words

Chapter 18

Trip and I checked on the boarding house renovation later in the week. The foreman gave us his usual Scooby-Doo villain glare, but his crew was on schedule. He and Trip reviewed the materials deliveries and plans for February, while I poked around the house itself.

The guys on the crew all knew I had a right to be there, but they looked surprised when I asked a couple of questions. They told me the answers and then seemed even more shocked when my follow-up questions weren’t utterly moronic.

“Guys, listen,” I said, “I know your boss doesn’t like me and my buddy, and that’s fine. We’re looking over his shoulder. But we know what we’re doing. And from what I can tell, y’all do good work and don’t cut corners.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before,” one said.

“The past two summers.” I showed them my palms. “I don’t have the calluses anymore, ’cause I’m in school right now, but I’ve swung a hammer and run wires and dug out septic tanks. I’m not a pro—not even close—but I’m not some know-it-all architect wannabe who’s here to tell you how to do your job.”

“Then why are you here?” another asked.

“To make sure the owner’s getting her money’s worth. Her first contractor really screwed her over.” I told them how much, and they looked properly surprised. “So my buddy and I check in regularly,” I continued. “It’s kind of a waste of time, though. Every week, we go back and tell the owner you’re doing a great job.”

They puffed out their chests, and rightly so.

I shrugged. “But we have to keep checking. And occasionally I’ll ask a not-so-stupid question. But that’s pretty much it. I try to stay out of your way the rest of the time. So I guess it’s up to you if you want to keep treating me like the enemy. I’m not. I’m just a guy like you, trying to do a job the best I can.”

They considered that and eventually nodded.

“Yeah,” the first one said, “we know how it is.”

“You’re all right, kid,” another added.

“Thanks.” I looked at my watch. “Almost quitting time, and I know you probably have a couple of beers stashed in your coolers, so I won’t keep you.”

Several of them exchanged grins.

“Maybe he has done this before.”

I nodded emphatically and went to find Trip.

“Let’s talk,” I said to him as we walked home.

“Oh? Something serious?”

“Sort of. About this summer. I know we mentioned doing camp renovations for Susan, but I guess I want to make sure we’re on the same page. You and me, I mean.”

“Makes sense.” He gave me a sideways look. “Any specific reason?”

“I’m sure Wren’s told you about Christy and me and the West Virginia trip.”

“She… might’ve mentioned something.” He cracked a grin. “So it’s getting serious with you two? For real serious? Swinger serious?”

“Could be. Too soon to know for sure. We haven’t even gone all the way, so…”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you…,” he said. “I didn’t want to seem nosy, but since you brought it up… How’s that work? You not having sex, I mean.

Without going into detail.”

“What do I like more than sex?”

“That’s what I figured,” he said. “And Wren said Christy’s really into that. Like, really into it.”

“She is.”

“But… that’s enough?”

“For now.”

He nodded. “So you’re really serious. Like Wren and me.”

“Yep. Seems like.”

“That was fast.”

“What? The answer or getting serious?”

“Getting serious. You’ve only been together a couple of months.”

“Yeah, but we’ve been friends a couple of years. And think about it…

Christy and I probably spent more quality time together than Gina and I ever did. And I know we spent more than Kendall and I ever did. So…” I shrugged. “It wasn’t that fast.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still, congratulations. I know it’s probably a bit early to start planning your bachelor party—”

“Way too early.”

“—but still. Wren was convinced all along. I had my doubts, but…” He shrugged. Then he chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day when you’d settle down with just one woman.”

“A lot’s changed since you first met me.”

“No kidding. With me too,” he admitted. “Anyway, what did you wanna talk about? Business-wise, I mean.”

“Money, actually.”

“Hey, that’s my dead horse!” he laughed.

I followed him up the stairs and into the house. The girls weren’t home yet, so we didn’t need to worry about being overheard.

“What about it, though?”

“Well, I still have plenty in savings, but Christy wants to go to West Virginia again. It isn’t cheap. The plane, fuel, room, meals, lift tickets. It all adds up.”

“How much did last weekend cost?”

I told him.

He gave a low whistle. “That isn’t going to break the bank, but like you said, not cheap either.”

“Right. I don’t wanna eat into my savings and not have enough to buy houses this summer if we decide not to do Susan’s job.”

“Got it,” he said. Then he rubbed his jaw in thought. “We won’t have a lot of initial expenses with her job, but we won’t have a huge profit potential either. Last year was a fluke, I know, but still…”

“I’m sure Susan would pay good money for our time and effort, but…

yeah. She’s a businesswoman too, so she won’t want to pay more than she has to.”

“No kidding.” He thought about it some more. “Lemme run some

numbers when I get the chance. Call and talk to Susan and see if she’s still interested. I’ll do some cost estimates based on what you told me needs to be done. I’ll build in a reasonable profit margin, but not so much that she’ll think we’re fleecing her. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

“In the meantime, how much do you have left in savings?” I told him that too, and he nodded confidently. “You should be fine for a bunch more ski trips. And don’t worry about the money if it doesn’t work out with Susan and we need to buy a couple of houses. I’ll loan you anything you need, and you can pay me back from the profit when we sell. I’ll only charge you a few points above Prime.”

I goggled.

“I’m kidding!” he said. “I won’t charge you interest and you know it. But call Susan and let me know. I… kinda want to make it work with her job. No offense, but Christy’s really cute. And if she’s as wild as Wren says…”

“Dude, you have no idea. I don’t think I have any idea yet.”

I called Susan a couple of days later, and we talked for almost an hour. I mostly told her about how things were going with Christy. I’d had to make a lot of adjustments with Miss Chaos in my life, but they were all worth it. A small part of me missed my clean bedroom floor and tidy dresser top, but not enough to go back to life without her.

We also talked about Susan’s love life. Her special friend’s wife had passed away, and she’d been spending more time with him. The wife had been ill for nearly two years—cancer—which was why she’d encouraged her husband to spend the night with Susan from time to time. She still wouldn’t tell me who the man was, though. He had a certain standing in town, she said, and it was no one’s business what he did with the “local Jezebel.”

“Are you serious? Do they actually call you that?”

“Some do. I’m… notorious. This is the Bible Belt,” she explained calmly,

“and the Moral Majority is popular around here.”

“Still, I’d like to teach them a thing or two about ‘love thy neighbor.’”

Susan laughed, wry and entirely unconcerned. “I can fight my own battles, but thank you. It doesn’t hurt that I own half the county. Money

opens a lot of doors that bigotry might otherwise close.”

I blinked at the profoundness of that.

“I don’t like to use it as a blunt instrument,” she added, “but I’m not about to let a tool sit on the shelf when I can do some good with it. Some of the more… shall we say, ‘pious’ members of the community might not like me, bless their hearts, but I fund several free daycares and pay for job training programs and do things to improve women’s lives in rural South Carolina. So the holier-than-thou folks can suck eggs, as far as I’m concerned.”

“You tell ’em!” I whooped.

Christy stuck her head in. “Who’re you talking to?” She looked at her watch, which was her way of telling me that she wanted to call her parents and probably Marianne.

“Susan,” I told her. “I know, I’ve been on the phone for an hour.”

“No, that’s okay,” she said. “I was just curious. Tell her hello.”

“Christy says hello.” I listened for a moment and returned the greeting.

“We’re just about done,” I told her. “I’ll let you know when I’m off.”

She nodded and blew me a kiss.

“Okay,” I said to Susan once again, “let’s talk business for a moment.”

“Ah, the real reason you called.”

“No. I wanted to tell you about my life and see how you’re doing too.”

“Mmm hmm. And I’ll choose to believe that.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why can’t I ever get away with anything with you?”

“I’ve known you a long time,” she said fondly. “And you’re just like your mother.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”

“It’s a very good thing,” she laughed. “But I know how she is. How you are too.”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” I grumbled.

“No, it doesn’t. So, what’d you want to talk about? Modernizing the camp, I hope.”

“Yep. Trip and I were talking, and…”

We spent another twenty minutes discussing what she wanted done. Trip and I could do most of the work ourselves, although some of it would take a crew. Trip and I could manage the work, but not over the summer, so Susan agreed to an off-season renovation as well.

“I’ll give my notes to Trip,” I said. “He’ll run all the numbers and we’ll

get you a preliminary estimate. We’ll probably fly over when it gets a bit warmer. We need to take a look for ourselves so we’ll be able to give you a final quote.”

“I miss Jeremiah,” she said. “Especially at times like this.”

“Yeah, I know. I miss him too.”

“But… life goes on.”

“Exactly. And on that note, I’d better let you go. We’ve been talking for an hour and a half, and Christy calls her parents on Sunday, so…”

“Sounds good,” Susan said. “And it was good talking to you. I’ll look for your estimate and then we’ll talk when it’s closer to spring.”

“You got it. Take care. Love you. Talk to you soon.”

“Love you too. Goodbye.”

I hung up and thought about how much Gunny had done around camp that no one really noticed. I also wondered how Susan was going to run the place without him. I couldn’t take over for him, and her sons both had lives of their own as well.

The world was changing, I realized. Free Love in the sixties and seventies had given way to the Moral Majority in the eighties. Was there a place for a family nudist camp in that world? I wasn’t sure, and that bothered me more than anything.

Life continued its routine, the sun rose and set every day, and January predictably turned into February. A couple of days later, Christy and I packed our things and flew to West Virginia. Damon was waiting for us, and in his own quiet way, he was excited as he helped with our luggage.

“My parents said I could go flying with you, but only if you let them pay for your expenses.”

“Well,” I said, “they gave us a ‘friend of the inn’ discount last time, so we’re even.”

“I don’t know if they’ll agree,” he said hesitantly.

“Then I’ll argue with them. You just plan on bringing us back to the airport early on Sunday. One or two o’clock, so we still have enough light to see. I’m thinking we’ll fly over the resort and inn so you can see them from the air.”

“That’d be awesome. Thanks!”

Christy beamed and slipped her arm through mine as we walked to the Bronco. “That’s very nice of you,” she said quietly. “Marianne says Carolyn and her husband are filthy rich, but they don’t want their kids to grow up with a sense of entitlement.”

I nodded. I’d guessed the same thing myself.

“So you might let Damon do things for us, like restock the firewood in the room. Just a suggestion,” she finished.

I grinned and silently compared her to her mother.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, really,” I admitted, although it occurred to me that her father wouldn’t have been nearly as successful without her mother. They had a different relationship than I wanted for Christy and me, but it was still a marriage of equals.

Christy must have sensed what I was thinking—the gist of it, at least. She tightened her grip on my arm and smiled a secret little smile. Only, it wasn’t so secret to me.

Christy started laying out clothes once we settled into our room.

“Is that what you’re wearing to dinner?” I asked.

She’d set out a plum-colored sweater dress with padded shoulders, a lavender bra and panty set, a matching plum garter belt, and black seamed stockings. She was hinting that she wanted me to tell her not to wear underwear, and I debated whether or not to do it.

I could almost feel her excitement building as the silence stretched out. I didn’t want a slave, but I also realized that she enjoyed being submissive. She was assertive enough in other areas, but not when it came to sex.

Then again, she managed to let me know what she wanted most of the time. She wasn’t vocal about it, but I got the message all the same. She looked a question at me, and I decided to play along.

“What did I tell you last time?” I said in my best stern-disappointed voice.

Her eyes flashed with excitement, but she immediately lowered them and looked contrite. “No bra, no panties.”

“Mmm hmm. So… why did you lay them out?”

“I thought—”

“Uh-uh. You know the rule when we come here: no underwear when we go out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s better. Now take off your clothes.”

Her head came up and her eyes went wide with feigned uncertainty.

“Do it. Now.”

She stripped to her birthday suit and stood before me with her hands clasped behind her.

“Bend over the bed. You know the position.”

She swallowed hard and did it. The bed was high enough that she could bend at the waist and lie with her chest flat on the quilt. I moved next to her and rested my left hand on the small of her back.

“This should help you remember the rules.”

“Yes, sir.”

I slapped her gently, although it sounded loud in the quiet room. I swatted again, harder, and she let out a whimper. I spanked her for real the third time, which made her squeak. I switched sides and gave her another three before I gently rubbed her pink bottom. Then I probed between her legs. Her smooth labia slid apart at my touch, and I spread her moisture with my fingers.

“You like when I do that, don’t you?” Of course she does, I thought. She set you up for it. I chuckled silently and decided to enjoy my new role.

“No, sir,” she lied. “I… won’t do it again. I know the rules. I promise, I’ll do what you want from now on.”

I felt semi-ridiculous but said, “See that you do.”

“May I get dressed now?” she asked.

“Not yet. Get on your knees.” I unzipped my pants and took out my semi-hard cock. “Suck it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dinner was an exercise in restraint, for both of us.

Christy’s nipples stood out beneath the tight wool of her dress. She squirmed from a combination of arousal and itching. On top of that, she

crossed and recrossed her legs, and would sometimes close her eyes while she squeezed her thighs together in an effort to get some relief.

My dick was either semi-hard or painfully stiff—partly because of Christy and her simmering arousal, but also because of what I was planning for later, on the walk back to the inn. Still, I took my time and chatted with the waiter after I signed the check.

Christy was ready to melt by the time we finally retrieved our coats and left, but I put a hand on her back and guided her toward a deserted side street between an outdoor shop and the post office. It was almost an alley, and a street light threw deep shadows along one wall.

“What’re we doing?” she asked quietly.

“What do you think?” I backed into a shallow alcove and unzipped my pants.

“We can’t! Someone might see!”

“Then you’d better be quick.” She still wasn’t convinced, so I cupped the back of her head and tilted her face up. “Get on your knees,” I said quietly,

“and suck my cock. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

I kissed her, hard, and then pushed her down.

She crouched in front of me and began sucking. I could see everything on the main street, but Christy had her back to it. She could only listen as people in the village went about their evening. She jumped at the sound of a car, although she didn’t stop sucking. A few minutes later she paused anxiously as an arguing couple crossed the street less than fifteen feet away, but she didn’t even flinch when another car passed. Several other people walked past on the main street, but no one even glanced our way.

I eventually felt the familiar pressure behind my balls, so I pulled my cock from her mouth. The air was cold on my heated shaft as I wrapped my fist around it and began stroking. I had to stifle a groan as the first spurt arced out. It hit her chin, so she braced her hands on my thighs and leaned closer.

The next spurt coated her nose and forehead. I aimed the last two at her cheeks. She opened her mouth and greedily swallowed the final gushes.

I let her suck the remaining drops as I caught my breath. Then I calmly tucked my dick in my pants. It was still very hard and made a bulge as I zipped up. I lifted Christy to her feet and examined my handiwork in the dim light from the main street. Shiny drops of semen covered her, and they’d be obvious to anyone who looked close enough.

“Ready to go back to the room?” I said as casually as I could, although I was probably just as nervous as she was.

“I… don’t know if I can.”

“You can,” I said sternly, “and you will.”

“Yes, sir.”

We passed another couple on their way to the steakhouse. They were talking about how nice the inn was and didn’t even notice us. In the lobby, Christy stiffened as Carolyn looked up from the desk and said good evening.

I nodded politely and then put my hand on Christy’s elbow to guide her toward our room. Carolyn smiled and returned to whatever she’d been doing.

Christy walked quickly down the hallway and practically bolted into our room when I unlocked it. For a moment I worried that she might be upset, but I should’ve known better. Still, I almost laughed in relief when she closed her eyes and began cleaning my semen from her skin. She wiped her face and licked her fingers in a heated trance.

She didn’t wait for me to say anything. Instead, she sank to her knees and reached for my waist. She unbuckled my belt, opened the clasp and zipper, and bared me from the waist down in a single motion. My cock was still very hard—especially after watching her little show—and it sprang up. She put her hands on my hips and immediately went to work.

I came again in record time, and she swallowed every drop. She looked up at me with wide eyes. I caressed her cheek and she leaned into the touch.

“So… happy Birdy?”

“Oh my gosh, yes.” She sighed and closed her eyes.

“For a while there I almost panicked. I thought you were upset.”

She shook her head and sat back. “Scared. And… maybe a little upset.

Warn a girl next time. But mostly excited. I can’t believe no one saw us!”

“Most people don’t really pay attention to what’s going on around them.”

“But what about Carolyn? She looked right at me and didn’t say a thing.”

“People see what they want to see.”

“I know, but still… What would we have done if she’d caught us?”

I thought about it and shrugged. “Asked for a tissue, I guess.”

Christy glared at my flippant answer.

“Seriously, what was she going to say? ‘You have semen on your face’?”

I shook my head. “Even if she had noticed, she probably wouldn’t’ve said anything.”

“We wouldn’t’ve been welcome back, though.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” I conceded. “Still, we didn’t get caught, and that’s all that matters.”

She smiled and nodded. After a moment she looked up at me with an unspoken request.

“Ready for me to take care of you?” I chuckled.

“Yes, please. But… maybe after a bath. Then… um… maybe you could…?”

“Could what?”

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” She glanced heavenward but then gathered her courage. “Then would you please spend about an hour between my legs? I think I’m going to need it twice tonight.”

I lifted her to her feet and kissed her. “Mmm, I could eat a Little Bit.”

“Oh my gosh, that was so bad.”

“You aren’t dating me for my bad puns?”

She pursed her lips but then reached up to caress my cheek. “I’m dating you because you don’t make me feel like a tramp for the things we do. And for your bad puns, but mostly ’cause of the way you take care of me. Oh, and because you make me all tingly, especially down there.”

My eyebrows shot up.

“Well? What’d you expect? I like sex as much as the next girl.”

“Maybe more than the next girl?”

“A lot more, especially with you.”

“I’m glad you can admit that. Finally. But now… you mentioned a bath?

And then I have an extended date with your pussy.”

“Mmm, yes, please.”

Later we opened the bottle of whiskey we’d brought with us. We poured a couple of glasses and relaxed in an armchair by the fire. Christy sat in my lap and rested her glass on her bare thigh. We were drinking it neat, since I didn’t want to put on clothes to go out for ice.

“For the record,” she said, “this was Marianne’s suggestion for this weekend: whiskey and hanky-panky by the fire.”

“Not a public blowjob and then a walk back to the inn with come on your face?”

Christy snorted. After a moment she grew thoughtful and said,

“Marianne’s awesome, and we’re alike in lots of ways, but she’s way too normal. I mean, she and Harry are happy, and she’s a great mom to their kids, but I can’t imagine our life being anything like theirs, especially in the bedroom.”

“Um… no.”

“For one thing, she’s a bit like me but won’t admit it. I was talking about Phoebe Cates one time, how she’s really sexy, but Marianne shut down. I thought it was weird, so another time I said something about Jennifer Beals.

Same thing. It’s like she was scared someone might think she’s a lesbian or something.” She looked up at me. “Is there a word for that, Mr. Thesaurus?”

“Probably,” I chuckled, “but I don’t know what it is. Maybe…

‘homophobic’? I think I read that somewhere.”

“Is that like ‘claustrophobic’?”

“Yeah. It means ‘afraid of homos.’ Probably short for ‘homosexuals.’”

Christy nodded. “That’s what she is, all right. I always got a sense that she liked women too, which was why I hinted around. Don’t get me wrong, I love Marianne, but I don’t want to be like her. Well, except for the happy wife and mother part. That’s okay.”

I nodded. She was hinting at us having children together, and I wasn’t so slow on the uptake that I missed the unspoken question.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “the wife and mother part is great. But the rest…?” I shrugged. “I like Marianne too. A lot. But I know what you mean about the homophobic part. I’ve always been attracted to bisexual girls anyway, way more than straight ones.”

“That’s one of the reasons I know you won’t ever go back to Gracie.”

Christy said her name like an insult, and I hid my surprise. I knew she didn’t like Gracie, but I didn’t realize how deep her feelings went.

“She’s totally not your type,” she added. Then she brightened. “Also, I don’t plan to let you recover enough energy to leave me. Mmm hmm,” she added, matter-of-factly, “I’m going to drain you twice a day, at least.”

“Oh, at least,” I teased. “So… you’re a sexual vampire?”

“Of course!” She did a pretty good Dracula accent, “I vant to suck your cock.”

I chuckled and moved her sideways to give the cock in question a better angle to expand.

“Ooh, someone likes the idea. Are you ready now?” She made a move to

set her glass aside.

“Not yet. I wanna build up to it.”

“Oh, okay. I like when we do that.”

“Me too. Duh. So, how ’bout one of your extra-long blowjobs when we’re ready?”

“Perfect!”

“In the meantime, do you want to show me your sketchbook?”

“Sure, let’s look at penises.” She laughed. “Wow, I never thought I’d say that. I mean, I’ve had that sketchbook for years and never showed it to anyone. Wren only found it ’cause she was snooping through my stuff.

Remind me to wring her neck sometime, okay?”

“Will do,” I chuckled.

“Okay, lemme get it. Be right back.” She hopped up and went to her overnight bag. I shamelessly enjoyed the sight as she bent over. She returned with the sketchbook I recognized from before. Then she paused and looked at me, and I suddenly felt self-conscious.

“What?”

“Nothing, sorry.” She smiled. “I was just thinking how lucky I am. I mean, I’ve always been attracted to you, physically, but I never realized how much we had in common.” She slid into my lap and got comfortable.

“I always thought I’d have to hide my wild fantasies and a lot of my past,” she explained. “I knew you weren’t like most guys, but still… Never in a million years would I have thought you were like me. I mean, for real like me.”

“Same here. I thought you were some prudish Catholic schoolgirl—”

“Which you’ve said… many times.”

“Sorry. But you can’t really blame me. You acted like it most—”

“I did not!”

“Did too.”

“Just because I didn’t talk about sex in front of our friends doesn’t mean I’m a prude!”

“All right, fair enough. But still… you have to admit, you hid your fantasies and past pretty well. I mean, it’s taken me two years to figure it out, and that’s only because you’ve told me most of it. I’d’ve never imagined that you like some of the things you do.”

“Girls have to be good at hiding things,” she said, “especially about sex.”

“True. Society’s double standard.”

“But I don’t have to hide anything with you. And… I think that’s the biggest reason I’m attracted to you. I mean, your body’s nice, and I love your talent and intelligence and sense of humor, but the fact that you’re perverted like me is the best part.”

“I still don’t like that word,” I said. “Like you and ‘nympho.’”

“Okay. Then let’s find a word you do like.”

I grinned when I realized she’d repeated my own words back to me.

“Mmm hmm,” she said. “I told you, I’m always paying attention.”

“And you have an incredible memory,” I agreed.

“I remember everything where you’re concerned.”

“That’s a blessing and a curse, I think.”

“Probably. But you’re stuck with it.”

“I can think of worse problems.”

She smiled and said with saccharine venom, “Like a creepy architect girlfriend who doesn’t like girls or blowjobs or even sex?”

I blinked. “Wow, that was… harsh.”

“Sorry. I was really upset when you started dating her. I thought I’d lost you, for real.”

“Ha! No. I came to my senses.”

“I know that… now. But at the time…?” She shrugged. “I guess that’s why I hate her so much.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry. She’s out of my life for good. And you’re in my life. Also for good.”

“Mmm, I like hearing you say that.”

“Me too. Now, let’s find a word I like more than ‘pervert.’” I thought about it. “How ’bout ‘rebel’?” I said at last. “I thought about ‘free spirit,’ but that’s too hippie for me.”

She scrunched her nose.

“But ‘rebel’ fits. We’re both rebels in our own way. You against your upbringing—”

“Some of my upbringing.”

“Right. And me against society and sexual prejudices.”

Her eyes glittered with a smile. “We’re both pretty normal, though. On the outside, at least.”

“But in the privacy of our own room? Or with our close friends?”

“We’re total rebels,” she agreed. “And we can be as kinky and perverted as we like!”

“Exactly!”

We shared a grin that faded to a happy smile. Then she smoothed her hand over the cover of her sketchbook.

“Okay,” she said slowly, “I know how you feel, but I—”

“I want to see it,” I said. “I know they’re guys from your past, and I know you had sex with them—”

“With one!” she squawked.

“Oral sex is still sex.”

“Fine! If you say so.”

“I say so. Trust me. Even jerking off is sex. It’s solo sex, but it’s still sex.”

“Yeah, okay. I get it. But ‘sex’ to me is ‘penis in vagina.’ And you should be glad that’s what I think! Otherwise we wouldn’t be doing anything at all.

I’d be miserable and probably dating a gay guy, and you’d be sleeping with some bimbo with big boobs who doesn’t like half the things I do.”

“Probably,” I laughed. Then I grew serious. “You seem to be hung up on your breasts. You know I—”

“I know. ‘Can you touch ’em?’ Yeah, I get it. But still, I’m so small. I mean, I don’t look like any of the women in Playboy.”

“Who cares? Okay, Hugh Hefner, obviously, but not me. I’ve told you before, you’re the petite model. I like you better than the women in Playboy.

Most of ’em are too hairy for my taste. And they all seem to come from the same mold. I mean, Hefner definitely has a type. But real beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. You know?”

“But don’t think I don’t notice how you react when you meet a woman like Carolyn. You made an effort to look her in the eye.”

“Part of that is just being polite,” I said. “But also ’cause I don’t want to make you feel self-conscious. I like your body, especially how we go together. I mean, Kendall had big boobs, and we never quite matched. You and I do. We’re the right proportions, if that makes sense.

“So, yeah,” I continued, “I think Carolyn’s attractive, and I’m a guy, so I notice breasts, but I’m not hung up on ’em or anything. Well, I am—I’m totally a breast-man—but small and firm is just as nice as big and soft.

Besides, I like other things more than breasts. A healthy attitude about sex, for example. You know that.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, back to your sketchbook…”

“Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m still nervous about showing you, so I keep coming up with distractions.”

“I get it. This is like if I had a sketchbook with Gina and Kendall.”

“Not to mention twenty-eight more.”

“Thirty’s just a guess,” I said. “I really haven’t counted. It’s probably less.”

“Or maybe more.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Whereas I know exactly how many men I’ve had.”

“What can I say?” I said. “I didn’t think I’d need to keep score.”

She grinned. “Well, you’re the man, so you’re supposed to win this one.”

“There’s that double standard again,” I warned.

“Gosh.” She blinked. “I didn’t even realize.”

“Mmm hmm. It’s pervasive, even when you know better. Now… tell me about the guys in your sketchbook.”

“How about two of them? I… don’t know if I’m ready to tell you more.

And I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to tell you about all of them.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“I haven’t asked about all the women in your past, have I?”

“Fair enough. So… tell me about these guys.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I can do this,” she said to herself. Then she felt along the edge of the book until she found the page she was looking for. She’d dog-eared it so she wouldn’t have to flip past pages she wasn’t ready to explain yet. She took another breath to settle her nerves.

“Okay, here goes…” She opened the book, and I took a good look for the first time. She pretended to look as well, but she was really studying me out of the corner of her eye. We went through several pages like that.

The sketches were basically anatomical studies of penises, mostly to improve and refine her technique. Some were simple line drawings, while others were fully shaded. And she’d used colored pencils for one, so it looked real enough to touch.

Part of me thought it was weird that she’d drawn them without the rest of the guy, but the rest of me understood. Most artists did studies like that all the time, of hands or eyes or other body parts. Wren had thought they were sexual because of what they were, but I did the same thing with buildings. I’d have whole pages of corbels, balusters, or even lintel decorations. They weren’t the least bit sexy. So why were penises different, especially for an

artist like Christy?

“You understand,” she said with more than a touch of relief. “Sure, I like drawing them, but they’re also part of what I do. I’m an artist, a sculptor, and they’re part of the human body.”

“Exactly.”

“And I’ve drawn plenty of guys I haven’t… um… been intimate with.

Like you, before you came to your senses.”

We shared a grin before I nodded at the page.

“But you were intimate with these two,” I said. “And if I had to guess, not very close to the first guy. You only had a couple of sketches of him, but a lot of the second guy, and he’s the full-color one.”

“Can you really tell the difference?” she asked. “I mean, they’re pretty similar.”

“Sure. I’m not like most guys, remember? I don’t mind looking at dicks.

So, yeah, I can tell the difference.” I flipped through the pages to point them out. “Besides,” I added, “the second guy has… what? Ten or twelve drawings on three pages?”

“Yes. That’s Peter. I have drawings of him—his face, I mean—in one of my high school sketchbooks if you want to see. It’s at my parents’ house.”

I shrugged. “I care what he looked like, in a general way, but not really. I mean, he’s part of your past, right?”

She nodded.

“Okay. So, who’s the first guy?”

“Vaughn.” She frowned. “Not my best decision ever.”

My eyebrows rose with a question.

“Before I tell you, I guess I should let you know why I picked these guys.

I really wanna know your group secret, the one you and Leah were talking about. I think I’ve figured it out, but…” She shrugged with undisguised curiosity.

“Ah, so that’s what this is? Quid pro quo?”

“Whatever that means.”

“It’s Latin. It means ‘something for something.’”

“Right. That’s exactly what I want. I tell you something and you tell me something. I hope you don’t think that’s bargaining for sex, but—”

I shook my head.

“Yeah, you know we’re going to have sex, no matter what. Well, not sex-

sex, but you know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes. “Why am I so nervous?

I’m chattering! I know you aren’t going to think I’m a tramp, but—”

I kissed her, long and lingering and full of intent. “I think it’s sexy that you had boyfriends before me. And I want to hear about them.”

“I know,” she said in a small voice. “I can tell. Mr. Big is pretty big at the moment.”

“Mmm hmm. He wants to hear all about your oral adventures.”

“Okay. Here goes…”

She’d met Noelani at the beach near her house in Hawaii, right after her family had moved from Japan. They were in the same grade and had similar interests, from dance and gymnastics to swimming and surfing. Christy had developed a crush on another surfer, Vaughn, who was friends with Noelani’s older brother, Peter. The guys had the same last name, so they were in the same home room in school.

“Unfortunately, Vaughn was a total jerk,” Christy explained, “although I didn’t realize it at the time. I just thought he was so dreamy.” She rolled her eyes at her younger self.

“He had a girlfriend when school began,” she added, “but he broke up with her and started hanging out with Peter and us. One day we were at Noelani’s house—her mother volunteered several days a week—and we were alone together, just him and me. I guess he’d told Peter to get lost or something, and he’d taken Lani with him.”

“Ah. I know where this is headed…”

“Of course you do. But you still won’t believe what he did.”

“Tell me.”

“He whipped it out.”

My eyes bugged.

“Exactly,” she agreed. “He just pushed his shorts down, whipped his penis out, and sort of waved it at me.”

“Had you ever seen one before?”

“Paul, dear… I grew up with five brothers. Of course I’d seen a penis before.”

“Well, how was I s’posed to know? You said your brothers didn’t walk around nude.”

“They didn’t! But…” She blushed. “That didn’t mean I didn’t… um…

maybe…”

I arched an eyebrow with amused curiosity.

“Oh, fine, I spied on them! And— Well, mostly just Laurie. The others

had moved out by the time I was old enough to care. So sue me! I wanted to know what guys looked like down there.”

I chuckled. “I kinda figured it was something like that. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“You like when I humiliate myself?”

“I like when you’re honest about your desires.”

“Oh.” Her brow wrinkled in surprise. “Well. When you put it that way…”

“Mmm hmm.” I ducked my head and snuck in a kiss. “Mr. Big likes it too.”

“I know. I can tell. Do I need to give him some attention?”

“Maybe in a bit. Keep going with your story.”

“Okay. Where was I? Right. So, Vaughn just waved his penis at me. It got hard, which was the first time I’d seen one like that. Then he asked if I wanted to suck it.”

“What’d you do? Never mind,” I said immediately. “How’d you like it?

Never mind again. I already know: you loved it.”

“You know me so well.”

“Did you get to finish?”

She nodded. “He came pretty quickly.”

“Did you swallow?”

“Of course. I didn’t know what else to do. And…” Her blush deepened.

“I was really surprised!”

“I bet!” I laughed.

“Well, for that reason, of course. But also…” She rolled her eyes. “This is going to sound so naïve, but I wasn’t expecting the texture.”

My eyebrows shot up.

“I know! But let me explain.” She paused to gather her nerve. “Have you ever read the Bible? No? Okay. So, Genesis talks about Abraham’s ‘seed’

and Onan’s ‘seed’ and Jacob’s ‘seed’ and everyone else’s ‘seed.’ It’s a metaphor with Abraham and Jacob and the others; it means their offspring.

But they’re talking about actual semen with Onan. Anyway, I always thought…” She cringed with embarrassment. “I thought it would be like sesame seeds or something.”

I burst out laughing.

“I know, right? So I was really surprised when it was creamy and smooth.

Still, I was proud of myself for swallowing. I felt guilty later, but not really. It was one of those times I thought I should feel a certain way, so I did.

Thinking back, I really enjoyed it, and I didn’t feel guilty at all. I mean, I’d been doing things with girls for a while, with Noelani and Mariko before her.”

I nodded.

“So what’s the difference between going down on a girl and doing the same to a guy?” she asked rhetorically.

“Nothing, really.”

“Exactly! Only, I didn’t think so at the time. I do now, ’cause of your bad influence, but—”

“Hold on, my influence isn’t bad!”

“I know. I’m just teasing. It’s been really good. It’s helped me deal with a lot of things that used to make me feel guilty and dirty.” She moved in for a kiss. “I’m sorry. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and you make me feel so much better about who I am.”

“Oh, okay. But still…” I sulked for effect, and she gave me another kiss, which was all I really wanted.

“Do you wanna hear the rest of my story, or—?”

“Are you kidding? Hold on.” I shifted her to the side and adjusted my dick. It had softened a bit, but not so much that it had shrunk back to its normal size.

“Do I need to play with him?”

“Do you want to?”

Her eyes flashed.

“On your knees?” I’d meant it as a question, but she took it as an order and slid off my lap. She finished her whiskey and set the empty glass on the hearth.

“Much better,” she said as she wrapped her fingers around my shaft.

“Now, where was I? Oh, yeah… So, I got over the shock that semen was actually nice and I liked going down on guys.”

My eyebrows rose, but she was paying attention to the little head.

“Vaughn was a real jerk, though. He liked showing off. And he’d told Peter what I was doing. A couple of days later we were all together in their living room when Vaughn just pulled his penis out.”

“In front of the others?”

Christy nodded. “He told me to blow him with Peter and Lani watching.”

“Did you?”

“What else could I do? Besides, he kind of forced me.”

I felt a disturbing mixture of outrage and arousal.

“I was humiliated,” she said, her eyes distant with the memory. Then her cheeks turned pink. “I was excited too. I know that sounds weird, but…” She shrugged and looked up at me. “I like when you make me do things, because you aren’t a jerk like Vaughn.”

“I hope not.”

“You aren’t. You love me. He never did. He just used me. I found out later that he’d gone back to his girlfriend right after he and I started… you know. He told her what I’d done and said if she wanted to keep seeing him, she’d better do the same and more.” Her eyes unfocused again. “She told me about it after he moved away. But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“A little, yeah. Sorry. Do you want to quit?” I nodded at my dick, which had started to go soft.

She blinked in surprise. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. Here, let me…” She began sucking, although I immediately stopped her. She realized what I was thinking.

“Oh, no,” she said. “I’m not upset. Sure, Vaughn was a jerk and took advantage of me. And he made me do things I was too young to understand, but…” She blushed and looked down. “I still enjoyed it. I mean, I used to feel so guilty and ashamed about the way I felt when I thought about him. But… I kind of liked the feeling. I got all worked up and would have to… you know… play with myself.

“So Vaughn made me realize I liked being told what to do, being forced, being… um… humiliated.” She looked up quickly. “I think that’s why I get so excited about the idea of walking through public with semen on my face. I don’t want to be humiliated for real, but the threat… gets me really hot.

“He also made me realize I liked watching other people,” she admitted.

“Noelani had a crush on him too. And… um… well, Peter wanted in on the action. So one day Vaughn told me to do Peter instead. He wanted to watch.

He told Lani to do him while he did.”

Once again, my eyebrows and penis reacted together.

Christy stroked my resurgent erection. Then she licked a drop of pre-come. “Mmm, leakage. I love how it feels in my mouth.”

“That’s good,” I croaked. Then I cleared my throat. “I mean…”

“Don’t be upset on my behalf,” she said. “Yeah, Vaughn was a real asshole—”

I still felt a jolt of surprise whenever she cursed.

“—but over the years I’ve come to terms with it. And… he made me think a lot about what I like. So I didn’t feel guilty when I met Brooke and started doing even naughtier things. Or when I met you and started telling you about my fantasies. I trust you. Besides, you aren’t like Vaughn—”

“I should hope not,” I snorted. “He was a mean, selfish, abusive asshole.

Probably still is.”

She laughed, bright and genuinely amused. “You and your words,” she said fondly. “You’re creative even when you cuss someone out. But I’m getting distracted again. Where was I?

“Okay,” she went on, “so Vaughn made Lani and me give them blowjobs.

Peter always came super-fast, so we’d watch Lani give Vaughn head. He liked being watched, but he was always a jerk about it. He thought he was humiliating Peter or something, by making him watch his sister blow him.

But Peter always got hard again, watching, so I’d get to do him again.

“He was really sweet to me,” she mused. “That’s one of the reasons I kept doing it with him once Vaughn left.” She paused to make sure she had everything in order in her head. “His family moved during Christmas break.

We’d been fooling around for a couple of months. I knew by then that Vaughn had gone back to his first girlfriend, but he still came by Lani and Peter’s house for blowjobs from her or me while Peter watched.”

“Yeah, ‘asshole’ might be too polite to describe him,” I said.

“You can get really creative later,” Christy said. “Let me finish my story first. So, his father worked for the Navy. He was some kind of contractor, and his company transferred him back to the mainland. Vaughn never said goodbye or anything, but I wasn’t upset. I mean, he’d never really been my boyfriend, even in my head. My Dad’s stupid rule, but also—” She sat back and realized something with a start.

“Oh my gosh. I was about to say, ‘it was just blowjobs, it never meant anything.’” She looked up at me in surprise. “I mean, I was just doing it

’cause I enjoyed it. And… maybe I realized even back then that sex and love were different.”

“I think you’ve known all along,” I said.

“Maybe you’re right. Only, I needed someone to explain it to me. Wow! I never realized…” She thought about it some more. “Huh. That’s pretty cool.

And I guess it’s why I changed my mind so easily after you told me.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘easily,’” I countered. “We almost had a couple of arguments about it.”

“We’ve had arguments about God and religion, but I haven’t changed my mind about them.”

“Touché. And you’re probably right. I mean, you can be pretty stubborn.”

“And don’t you forget it, mister!”

“You’re so much like your father. He does this thing when he’s confronted with a new set of facts. He adjusts. It’s like he flips a switch in his head. You do it too. Like when you found out I’m a nudist. You adjusted to the new situation as if it had always been that way.”

“Well, I’d been nude around people before, although mostly girls,” she said. “Besides, I like being a nudist, especially with you. I’m still a little nervous about larger groups, though.”

“That’s because you’re still insecure about your body. Don’t worry, everyone is. I used to be pudgy and really shy—”

“That’s what Erin said!” she laughed.

“—but I’m pretty confident now.”

“You can say that again. It’s very attractive.”

“Thank you.” I smiled and caressed her cheek. She pressed her face to my palm and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she smiled up at me.

Then she turned her attention to my dick.

“So, what do you think, Mr. Big? Is it a good story so far? You like it when I’m Scheherazade? Do you think your owner’s ready to hear the rest?”

“He says we are.”

“I know. Duh. I understand him just fine.” She rolled her eyes playfully.

Then she bounced to her feet. “I need a snack. The real kind, not your liquid diet kind. And… do you wanna refill our drinks and move to the bed? I think that’s where we’re gonna end up anyway. Besides, I’m getting kinda hot sitting next to the fire. Is that okay?”

“Um… sure.” I picked up our glasses and stood.

Christy took one look at me and sank to her knees. “Sorry, need to suck first.”

So I stood there with a whiskey tumbler in each hand and watched as she kissed and sucked my cock back to life.

“Come on, Little Bit,” I said when she pulled back. “Go fetch your snack.

I’ll refill the drinks and meet you in bed.”

“Yes, sir.”

I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and poured as Christy opened the outside door and retrieved a baggie of carrots and celery from the snowbank. She

actually stood in the cold air for a moment, and I marveled at her metabolism while I enjoyed the sight of her slim figure. She did a little dance turn and closed the door. Her nipples were stiff and tight from the cold. She wasn’t the least bit self-conscious until she realized I was watching. Then she blushed and looked down.

“You’re beautiful,” I said.

“Thank you. You’re pretty handsome yourself.”

“Thanks. Now come on. I wanna hear the rest of this story.”

“Yes, sir.” She grinned and took a running start at the bed. She didn’t have room for a full gymnastics routine, but she did a cartwheel and then vaulted into the high bed.

I tried to pry my eyebrows off the ceiling. Then I did my best not to laugh as she squawked and realized she’d dropped her baggie of veggies in the middle of the cartwheel. She leapt off the bed, grabbed it from the floor, and returned with another vault. Then she composed herself and tried to pretend the last few seconds hadn’t happened.

“Naked gymnastics,” I said. “Nice.”

“I like showing off for you. Simon always said I was ‘too exuberant.’”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what I ever saw in him.”

“Safety,” I said as I joined her on the bed and handed her a tumbler of whiskey. “And an escape from your family.”

“Maybe. I love my family, but… sometimes they drive me crazy. I mean, they all expected me to marry someone in the military and raise kids. Like, that’s all I’d ever do.” She looked down and shrugged. “It’s what my mother did. Marianne and Lynne too. Sabrina’s different, but still…”

“You and I can decide what we do,” I said firmly. “And we already decided that it won’t be the military. Kids, for sure, but when we’re ready.”

She looked up in surprise. “You mean it?”

“Of course, but…” I gave her a sly grin. “You know how kids happen, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mr. Intercourse, I know how kids happen.”

“Just making sure.”

“Not till we’re married.”

“So we’re back to that, are we?”

She frowned in thought but laughed almost immediately. “No, I meant the kids! Oh my gosh, no, we’re going to do the other long before we’re married.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Oh, okay. I thought… Well, you know what I thought.”

“I do,” she agreed. Then she grinned at what she’d just said. She had another thought and took a sip of whiskey to cover it.

“Oh, no,” I prompted. “Tell me.”

“If you must know…”

“I must, I must.”

“I was thinking about intercourse.”

“With me, I hope.”

“Of course with you.” She rolled her eyes. “Who else would I be thinking about? Never mind! I don’t know if I’m ready for the answer.”

I grinned.

“But I know it has to do with your group secret.”

“It… might.”

“Well, you’ll have to wait, ’cause I’m not finished telling you about mine.”

“Then, by all means,” I said with a grin, “continue, fair Scheherazade.”

“Thank you. Now, where was I?”

“Vaughn had just moved away.”

“Oh, right! So, he moved away at Christmas. Lani missed him more than I did, even though she’d figured out what a jerk he was. I didn’t realize it at the time, but we were really lucky he hadn’t told anyone what we were up to.

Our reputations would’ve been ruined. Thinking back, I think he probably did tell people. Probably some of his buddies at the beach or on the swim team.

But I don’t think they believed him. He was always lying about things.”

I nodded. “Sounds like you dodged a bullet.”

“You can say that again. No, don’t!”

We shared a grin.

She took a sip of whiskey. Then she thought about something and took a longer drink. She finished the glass and set it aside.

“I know you like it when I ask for things,” she said at last. “Especially…

ones I want to do in bed.”

“Mmm hmm. I don’t want a passive girlfriend. You don’t have to take charge or anything, but you have to tell me what you want.”

“I know. And I’ve been trying harder lately. I still feel guilty sometimes, but it’s getting easier. I… feel really guilty about some of the… um…

weirder things I want.” She paused to smooth invisible fabric over her thighs.

“But then I tell you about them, and you act like they aren’t that unusual, like everyone has kinky fantasies.”

“Almost everyone does,” I said. “Most people are just too scared to admit it, even to themselves. They lie and say it’s disgusting or perverted or whatever. And the more they say it, the more they’re trying to hide.”

“But not you.”

“Not me,” I agreed. “I’m… comfortable… with my kinky inner life.

Many of my fantasies will stay fantasies, but that’s okay. Having them doesn’t make me a bad person. Neither does acting them out, as long as everyone’s willing.”

“I thought about that earlier tonight, out on the street, when we were…

you know.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“And that’s why I tell you things about my past. And… what I want.” She smoothed her hands over her legs again as she worked up her courage.

“Talking about Vaughn made me think about when he forced me, that first time in front of Lani and Peter.”

“And…?”

“I… kind of want you to do that. Force me to suck you off. Hold my head and make me.”

I set my untouched whiskey on the nightstand.

“Not now,” she said with a laugh. “But… sometime. When I’m not expecting it. Just whip it out and make me suck you off.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“I think so.” She grinned and blushed. “In the meantime, I think Mr. Big needs some attention for real. He says he’s tired of all this talk, talk, talk.”

I couldn’t hide my amusement. “Oh he does, does he?”

“Mmm hmm. He talks to me all the time. Not as much as he talks to you, but still… And right now he says he needs fellatio.”

“He uses big words sometimes.”

“He’s very intelligent. Sometimes he spends all day thinking about just one thing.”

“You can say that again!” I laughed.

“I’d better give him what he wants.” She took a firm grip on my hard-on and lowered her mouth to it.

I leaned back and relaxed on the pillows with a hand behind my head. I rested the other on Christy’s head as she nuzzled and kissed my straining

erection. After a few minutes she cupped my balls and caressed them. Then she began sucking in earnest.

We were both in the mood for a slow blowjob, so I closed my eyes and lost track of time as she enjoyed herself. I opened them when I felt her shift.

She angled her hips and spread her legs. Her smooth pussy glistened in the light from the fire. She began playing with herself with one hand while she steadied my shaft with the other. Her dark nipples were stiff and puckered with arousal. I rolled one between thumb and forefinger, and she groaned around my cock.

I could feel the pressure building in my balls, but I tried to hold back till she was ready. She must have sensed it, because she stopped trying to make me come and started concentrating on her own pleasure. I pinched her nipple harder and tugged at the stiff little bud.

After several minutes she began sucking faster and swirling her tongue around my glans. She was getting close, so I held her head and began thrusting my hips. That pushed her over the edge, and she came with a soft groan of surprise.

Her lips tightened around my shaft, which was the signal for my balls to convulse and unleash a torrent of semen down her throat. She swallowed automatically and rode the combined wave of orgasms. When they finally subsided, we lay in silence and caught our breath.

“Mmm, that was nice,” she said. Then she immediately stifled a yawn.

“Oh, my. Do you mind waiting till tomorrow to tell me your story?”

I chuckled. “I was just about to ask you the same thing. Come on up. And bring the covers with you.”

“Yes, sir.”

I reached over and turned off the bedside light. The fire made the room glow a dull red-orange.

Christy reached down and caressed my flaccid manhood. “Were you serious about what you said before, about having kids?”

“Yes. Why?”

She laughed softly. “’Cause I just swallowed about a million of our children.”

“That’s okay. I’m not ready to have them yet.”

“Me neither. So it’s okay if I keep swallowing?”

“Sure,” I chuckled. Then I rubbed her back. “Have to feed that voracious appetite of yours.”

“Mmm, an appetite for sperm.” She kissed my chest, yawned again, and squeezed my penis. “I love you.”

“Me or him?”

“Both!”

“Good. We love you too. Sweet dreams.”

“Mmm, of Paul and penis.”

We hit the slopes the next morning and skied all day. Christy was still a better skier, but mostly because she was more agile. I was faster on the straightaways and had more stamina, although part of that was because of her metabolism. I could tell when she ran out of energy and needed to eat—she was like a toy whose batteries had run out—so I made a mental note to bring a couple of candy bars with me next time.

We ate dinner at the steakhouse at what had already become “our” table.

Then we strolled through the village and gazed in the shop windows before we returned to the inn. I made sure to fill the ice bucket before I took off my clothes, while Christy ran a hot bath.

“Dear, will you bring the bottle and glasses in here?” she called when I returned. “I want to soak until I’m one big wrinkle.” She appeared in the bathroom doorway. She was wearing my button-down shirt from the night before and had her hair pinned up. She blushed when she saw my expression.

“Wow,” I said softly. “Just… wow.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and tucked a tendril of blonde hair behind her ear. “Join me in about five minutes?”

“Sure. I’ll get the fire going and then bring the drinks.”

“Perfect. Thanks.”

I gave her fifteen minutes and still knocked before she was ready. I grinned at the muffled bumps and managed to survive until she invited me in, although I was a little surprised by the sight that greeted me.

The bathroom was dark, lit only by a half-dozen candles—and not the thin taper kind, but stout pillar candles.

I chuckled. “So that’s why your overnight bag weighed a ton.”

“Sorry. I wanted to tell you, but…”

I also smelled lavender and noticed the small bottle on the counter.

Christy smiled at me from the tub. “I know you’re a romantic, so I thought I’d do something special.”

“It’s perfect,” I said. “You’re perfect. Thank you.”

“You always do so much for me. Besides… I have to keep you interested.”

“Oh, no chance of me losing interest. I’m hooked.”

“Good. Now I just need to reel you in.”

“Hold on,” I teased, “aren’t you supposed to haul the fish out of the water?”

“Oh, shut up. Just get in here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She slid forward, and I sank into the hot, scented water behind her.

“God, that feels good,” I said. “You feel good,” I added as I wrapped an arm around her and cupped her small, firm breast. I took a sip of my drink and then set it next to the bottle and ice bucket on the small table.

We relaxed and soaked up the heat until the water cooled. Then Christy unplugged the drain while she ran more hot. She replaced the plug and filled the tub almost to the top before she turned off the tap.

“So, Miss Scheherazade,” I said at last, “are you ready to hear the story of my group secret?”

“I think so. I’m pretty sure I know what it is, but knowing you, it’s probably a lot wilder than even my imagination.”

“What do you think it is?”

“You’re into orgies and group sex.” She must have felt my surprise.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” she laughed. Then she turned to look at me and sloshed water out of the tub in the process. “And lemme guess, you want me to try it too. With Wren and Trip for sure,” she added, “but probably Leah and Mark as well.”

“And… how do you feel about that?” I asked slowly.

“I haven’t even had sex with you,” she bleated, “and now you want me to do it with not one but two other guys? What kind of boyfriend are you?”

“The kind who likes orgies and group sex. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You aren’t really upset, though, are you?”

“No,” she admitted. “Not really. A little scared— No, a lot scared. But not upset. Still, you owe me a story. You can’t just say, ‘Yep, you’re right,’

and expect to get away with it.”

“Fair enough. But you’d better settle in and buckle up, ’cause it’s gonna be a wild ride.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Am I going to need more alcohol for this?”

“Probably a lot more. That’s why I brought the bottle.”

“Oh, boy, here we go.” She raised her glass for a refill.

I added ice to both glasses and then filled hers with amber liquid.

“So it’s going to be one of those stories,” she said as she watched me pour.

“’Fraid so. This is the Big Secret, the thing I’ve been hiding since we first talked.”

“All right. Hold on.” She took a healthy swig of whiskey and closed her eyes to savor before she swallowed. She looked so much like her father that I had to suppress a chuckle. “What?” she demanded with a suspicious look.

“Nothing. Just thinking how much I love you. And how much I hope you still love me once you know all my secrets.”

“I told you,” she said evenly, “nothing you say will ever scare me.”

“Okay, here goes. My parents are swingers.”

She waited. And when she realized I wasn’t going to say anything else, she gave me a searching look. Eventually she said, “Is that it?”

“What do you mean, ‘is that it?’ That’s a big it!”

“Ha ha,” she said without a touch of amusement, “throw my own words back at me. Very funny. But I’m serious. Is that it? Your parents are swingers? You waited, like, five months to tell me that?”

“More like three, but yeah.”

“Who cares? You know I stink at telling time. But still… that’s what you were hiding? I figured that out before Christmas!”

“Well, being a swinger isn’t quite the same as liking orgies and group sex.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just how innocent do you think I am? Never mind, don’t answer. I’ve known all along and dropped hints the whole time! Who cares if I didn’t use the right word?”

“So… you don’t think it’s weird?”

“Of course it’s weird, but I’m weird!” She shook her head in frustration.

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t understand.”

“Sorry. I underestimated you. Again.”

“You keep doing that,” she accused.

“Note to self…,” I said to lighten the mood.

She rolled her eyes and decided to accept my non-apology.

“But you realize that if my parents are swingers…?” I prompted.

“Then you are too. Duh. I told you, I’ve read a lot of wild stuff in Penthouse and Variations. Wren’s been dying to tell me for a month. Since Tahoe. I thought you were gonna tell me something wild and really naughty, like… I dunno… like, you’re secretly a porn star.”

“Ha! No, just a run-of-the-mill swinger.”

“Oh.”

“You aren’t disappointed, are you?”

“Well, no… but…” She grinned. “I kinda hoped you were a porn star.”

“Sorry. I might know a porn star, but only secondhand.”

Her eyebrows flew up. “Really? Who? Never mind. It doesn’t matter.

Let’s talk about this swinger thing.”

“Okay, what would you like to know?”

“The story! That’s why I told you mine.”

“Fair enough,” I chuckled. “Here goes.” I drew breath to speak, but she stopped me before I could.

“It still bugs me that this is so easy for you.”

“What can I say? My family’s always been open about sex. And now I know you aren’t going to run away—”

“No.”

“—aren’t a huge prude—”

“Definitely not.”

“—and aren’t going to dump me…”

“You are so strange sometimes.”

“Of course I’m strange. I’ve found the perfect girl, and I’m scared of losing her.”

Christy rolled her eyes and set her glass on the little table. Then she drew me forward for a kiss. She laughed softly when Mr. Big tried to get some attention too.

“You aren’t going to lose me,” she said at last. “If anything, I’m the one who’s hooked and you’re reeling me in.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Mmm hmm. Now… I want my story. You promised!”

“I did. Okay. So… lemme start from the beginning. And just so you understand, this is the swinger story, not the story of how I learned about sex.”

“I’ll suppose we’ll have more quid pro quo when it’s time for that? I’ll have to tell you about me and Simon or something?”

“You can tell me anything you want. No demands.”

“Ugh! You drive me crazy sometimes. I’ve spent my whole life hiding who I am. And now that we’re together, I can’t wait to spill my guts and tell you all my secrets. You’re really messing with my head. You know that, right?”

“All part of my nefarious plan.”

“Well, it’s working,” she play-grumped.

I leaned in for a kiss. “Good. Now, where was I? Right… so, my swinger story. When I first started dating Gina…”

I told her about the time we watched our parents and Susan through the sliding glass doors. I told her how I confronted Susan about it later, although I skipped the part where I panicked that my parents might get a divorce.

“For the record,” I added, “this is probably the biggest reason I wanted to make it work with Gina when I had the chance to get back together with her.”

“You wouldn’t have to explain about the swinging,” Christy said. “And you thought I was some naïve Catholic schoolgirl.” She shook her head in irritation. “I still can’t think of that as an insult. I enjoyed being a Catholic schoolgirl. I liked the ritual and ceremony. And the outfits. You’ll understand when I show you my uniform.”

“I can’t wait,” I said with a grin.

“Well, you’re going to have to. I’m nude at the moment, and very comfortable in this bath. Although…” She turned and pulled the drain plug.

Then she started the hot water. “Oh, no fair,” she gasped when I began teasing her pussy from behind. Her breathing grew heavier. “This is one of those times,” she said at last, “when I really wish I could get my stupid head to agree with the rest of me.”

“Oh?”

“I really, really want to feel you do me from behind. Like, right now.”

My eyebrows shot up.

“But I’ve been drinking, and that’s against your rules. Still,” she sighed,

“you’re probably right.”

“Are you sure?” the little head said through my mouth. “I mean, we could always—” I stopped and blinked in disbelief.

Christy actually laughed. She pulled away from my probing fingers and sat facing me. “That was him, wasn’t it? Mr. Big?”

“Um… maybe.”

“You’re so cute when you’re caught.” She slid toward me and captured my hard-on as she tilted her face up for a kiss. “I love you and your penis,”

she said. “But he needs to learn to be patient. He’s as bad as Wren.”

“Worse.”

“You’re probably right. But I have more influence over him.” She squeezed and stroked gently. “And I know what’ll keep him happy until I’m ready to give him what he really wants.” She kissed me again. “Until then… I think I’m going to explode if you don’t finish telling me your story.”

She released me, replaced the drain stopper, and let the tub fill almost to the top again. Then she faced me and sank up to her nose in the water.

“My little Naiad.”

She pushed herself up a bit. “I am. And just for your information, you can get me to do almost anything in water. I dunno why, but I’ve always had fantasies about the bath, the pool, the ocean, you name it. That’s why I was so interested when you told me about the quarry lake at the camp. I’m so hot-natured that I don’t care how cold the water is. So I really wanna do it in the lake.” She looked at me expectantly and made a go-on gesture. “Note to self…”

“Right,” I laughed, “note to self. In the meantime, okay if I finish my story?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, where was I?” I paused to gather my thoughts. “So, our parents are swingers. Gina’d known all along what they were up to, but I’ve always been a bit clueless.”

“That’s what Erin said.”

“Well, she’s right. Still, once I figure something out, I usually run with it.”

“Like when you figured out I wasn’t so pure and innocent, and you started to really corrupt me.”

“I think you were fairly well corrupted before I figured it out. That sounds bad, but you know what I mean.”

Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight as she nodded.

“Anyway, back to my story. Once I figured out what our parents were up to, I wanted to do the same thing.”

“So you seduced Kendall and added her to your harem.”

“More or less,” I agreed. “We had some pretty wild adventures.” I told

her about some, although I purposefully left out the part about our family parties. Still, I didn’t want to underestimate her (again), so I hedged my bets and added, “We fooled around with other swingers at camp, but—”

“Are there a lot?”

“Not really. I’d say… less than a quarter of the visitors at any given time.

Maybe six or seven couples out of thirty-five or forty families. There may be more, though. I don’t know them all. Only the ones my parents or Gina’s partied with.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. They probably don’t wear signs.”

“Um… no.”

“What did you do when you weren’t at the camp? Kendall lived in Chattanooga, right?”

“Well, Gina and I fooled around with a few friends at school.”

Christy’s eyebrows rose at that.

“One of my best friends and his girlfriend, Scott and Shannon, and Gina’s best friend, Heather. She’s the one I think might be an actual porn star.”

“Maybe you can tell me that story later?”

“Just remind me.”

She nodded.

“Anyway, Gina and I introduced a few of our closest friends to our lifestyle, although not really. We didn’t tell them how… um… organized it is.”

“Do you go to clubs or something? Put ads in the back of those magazines? Oh, please! Don’t look at me like that. I know about clubs and magazines.”

“Lemme guess,” I said dryly, “Brooke again?”

“You should thank her, you know. I wouldn’t be nearly as open-minded if I hadn’t met her. I’d’ve listened to Sister Prune and been a chaste, virtuous, devout little Catholic. I’d’ve been miserable too, but that’s beside the point.”

“Then I’ll have to thank her when I meet her.”

“Who? Sister Prune?” She snorted. “Oh… wait. You meant Brooke.”

“Mmm hmm.”

She rolled her eyes but squeezed and stroked my cock. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can tell. Well, if you play your cards right…”

I grinned.

“For the record, it also bugs me that your ‘nefarious plan’ is working. I mean, you’re getting everything you want.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I didn’t say that. It just… feels like you’re winning. And you know I hate losing.”

“It isn’t a game. No one’s keeping score.”

“I am. It’s thirty to six, your favor.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah,” she said after a moment, “I know what you mean. It’s the same thing you told Wren, ‘Real people with real lives.’”

“She told you about that?”

“She tells me everything. Well, except the big things, like the fact that you’re a swinger. Remind me to wring her neck when we get home.”

“Will do,” I chuckled.

“But keep going with your story. What happened with your high school swinger friends?”

“Nothing, really. I mean, they weren’t actually swingers. Yeah, we fooled around with them and traded partners a couple of times, but never like real swingers. And to answer your earlier question: no, we don’t go to clubs or put ads in magazines. It’s a lot more informal. We have a small circle of friends—”

“Like Wren and Trip, Leah and Mark, et cetera.”

“Exactly.” (I resisted the urge to tell her it was “et al.” instead of “et cetera.” You only use “et cetera” for things, not for people. But I digress. Ad nauseam.)

“What about Erin?”

I hid my nervousness and said, “What about her?”

Christy grinned. “I like talking to you when I’m holding your penis. I can always tell when you’re scared or hiding things. Like now. You don’t want to tell me about Erin. She’s part of the group, isn’t she?”

I thought about it and then nodded. But was I ready to admit everything?

To share my deepest, darkest fantasies? Fortunately, Christy herself saved me from that little conundrum.

“I thought she must be,” she said. “Wren dropped a couple of hints. Erin too. She almost gave it away completely when she invited me to spend New Year’s with your family. She came up with some lame excuse about ‘silly games,’ though.”

“Holy crap! You really do remember everything, don’t you?”

“Where you’re concerned? Yes. Everything. And don’t you forget it,

mister.”

“Note to self…,” I said seriously.

“Besides, Erin was way too interested in our sex life, yours and mine. It was more than just sisterly friendship. I know what that’s like from Marianne and Sabrina. Lynne too, now that I mention it. We talk about our sex lives, but only in general terms. ‘We like this.’ ‘We do that.’ Or ‘have you tried so-and-so?’ Things like that. But with Erin it was like… she was interviewing me or something. Like, would I fit in with the group?”

“That’s exactly what she was doing. She thinks you’re cute. And she…

um… has a sex drive like mine.”

“I kind of thought so. Wren’s like that too.” She rolled her eyes and thought back. “I’ve been sketching her and making a maquette the past couple of weeks, while you’re at judo and Trip’s in class. She’s always in the mood, always talking about sex. She’s insatiable.” She thought of something and smiled but didn’t explain. Then her eyes sparkled with a question. “So, Erin’s like that too?”

“Erin’s basically a female version of me.”

“Mmm, that could be fun.”

I glanced at the whiskey bottle and realized we’d finished more than half of it.

“No, I’m not drunk,” Christy said. “I’m just… flirty. And horny. I like talking to you about sex.”

“I’m glad.”

“And speaking of which, how’d you get Wren and Trip involved? It was over the summer, wasn’t it? While you were at the camp?”

“And before. Trip tried it with me and Kendall. Then with a group of swingers at camp. It was different when he and Wren started dating, though.

He wasn’t emotionally involved with the others. It was just sex. But he had to make some mental adjustments with her.”

“I thought so. I’ve noticed. And Wren’s told me a lot that she doesn’t realize. Why does everyone underestimate me? I’m not an idiot.”

“Definitely not.” I chuckled. “But I think it’s ’cause you have this

‘innocent Catholic schoolgirl’ façade.” She heard the quotes and didn’t object. “It’s really good,” I added. “You’ve had to hide things so long that you don’t even realize you’re doing it.”

“Well… of course. I want people to think I’m cute and innocent.”

“I always thought you were cute. And I’ve always been attracted to you,

physically, but I never realized how much we had in common.”

She gave me a wry grin and said, “I’m not the only one with a good memory.”

“I remember everything where you’re concerned. And don’t you forget it, miss.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned forward for a kiss.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m one big wrinkle,” I said at last. “Are you ready to move to the bedroom?”

“I think so. I still wish…”

I looked a question at her.

“I really want to go all the way with you. Right here, right now. In my perfect fantasy, you’d pull me into your lap and stick your cock in me.”

My eyebrows shot skyward.

“But I know me. I’m… drunker than I thought. Not drunk-drunk, mind you, but enough that I’m not my usual self.”

I nodded.

“Also… I want to know what you have planned for me. So we need to keep talking. Do you want me to be a swinger too? Of course you do, but… I don’t know if I can. I mean, I want to, in my head, but…” She shrugged despondently. “I can’t even bring myself to go all the way with you. So how’m I s’posed to do it with some other guy?”

“Baby steps,” I said.

“I know. What is it you say, when part of you feels one way and part another? Well, part of me gets excited thinking about it, but most of me isn’t sure.”

“That’s okay. I’ve told you all along that you’re worth it, worth waiting for.”

She tilted her face up for another kiss. “Thank you. I really believe you when you say it.” She grinned and massaged my cock back to life. “I believe him too. He’s a lot easier to read than you are. You may not be as good as me at hiding things, but you’re pretty good. You’re… what’s the word?”

“Inscrutable.”

“I knew you’d know,” she said affectionately. Then her expression turned mischievous. “I may not be ready to be a swinger, but I’m ready for dessert, Mr. Porn Star Waiter.”

“My pleasure.” Then her words hit me. “Hold on, you’ve seen a lot more porn than you let on.”

“Mmm hmm. Brooke. We… had fun… over the summer, while you and Wren and Trip were doing the same. But I’ll save that story for later too.

Right now I want to place an order.”

“Oh? What would you like?”

“A penis parfait with a double helping of cream.”

“Ha! You don’t think small!”

“Not when I’m ordering from the Paul menu.”

The next morning Carolyn invited us to lunch with her family. Christy and I skied for a couple of hours and then returned to the inn to find Damon waiting for us.

“I loaded your luggage already,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind. And you can store your equipment here if you want, so you don’t have to keep bringing it back and forth.”

“Thanks,” I said. “That’d be nice.”

“We’ll have everything tuned up for you,” he added. Then he looked a little embarrassed. “My parents own the ski shop too.”

Christy perked up and said to me, “Maybe next time we can buy you some better skis and boots.” Her own equipment was top of the line, while mine was entry-level stuff that my parents had given me years before. It was better than rental equipment, but not by much.

“I can help you pick it out,” Damon added helpfully.

I suppressed my inner skinflint and said, “Sounds like a plan.” Then I had to hide my annoyance at Christy, who had no concept of how much things cost. Money just appeared in her checking account when she needed it.

Still, I forced a smile and followed Damon as he led us out the back of the inn. At first I thought we were headed toward a detached part of the inn itself, but then I realized that his family’s house had been built to match.

Carolyn greeted us at the door and invited us inside. In the kitchen she introduced us to Damon’s fourteen-year-old sister, Alexa. She was a younger version of her mother, girlishly slim but with budding curves and the same large eyes, full lips, and golden hair. She could’ve passed for twenty, but I shook her hand politely and reminded myself that she was still a girl.

“I’m sorry my husband couldn’t be here,” Carolyn said. “He’s in

Washington on business.”

She and Christy chatted amiably as we ate. Damon was naturally quiet, but he came out of his shell as he grew more comfortable with me. We talked about flying and how I’d learned.

“We’re thinking of letting him take lessons,” Carolyn said. “So this is a good chance to see if he likes it.”

I could tell by his expression that it was a foregone conclusion, but she wasn’t convinced.

Christy brightened immediately. “Could you teach him, Paul?”

“The basics, yes. But I’m not a CFI. Sorry, a Certified Flight Instructor.

The airport will have a flying club, though. Someone there will be an instructor for sure. Probably several people.”

“We’ll check into it,” Carolyn said.

We lingered and talked after we finished eating. Christy and Carolyn already seemed like old friends, even though more than twenty years separated them. Not for the first time, I marveled at how my little blonde flower blossomed in social settings.

“We should probably head to the airport,” I said at last. “It gets dark early this time of year, and especially in the mountains.”

“Do you mind if we come with you?” Carolyn asked.

“No problem. The plane only seats four, but we—”

“I think she means just to the airport,” Christy said smoothly.

“Oh. Right.”

We cleared the table and then followed Damon to the large garage, which held a couple of snowmobiles in addition to the big Bronco. I’d thought it was his, but his mother handed him the keys and asked him to drive. He and I sat up front and mostly listened as Christy and Carolyn chatted in the back, with an occasional comment from Alexa.

At the airport the women stood back and watched while Damon and I walked around the plane and went through the preflight inspection. He remembered almost everything I’d told him two weeks before.

He grinned nervously as he sank into the seat beside me. I gave him the same speech I’d given Christy about what to touch, what not to, and what to do in an emergency. Then I handed him the little notebook already open to the pre-start and engine start checklists.

“Remember I told you that flying is a lot of habit and routine?”

He nodded.

“Well, this is part of it. Our lives depend on these checklists. You understand? Flying is a serious business for serious people.”

“Roger,” he said, in the same way I said it.

I suppressed a smile and then nodded at the card. “All right. Let’s go through the list.”

The ladies probably wondered what was taking us so long, but I wanted to make sure Damon followed along with each step.

“We’re ready,” I said at last. “Scan the surrounding area. If it’s clear, call

‘Clear prop!’ in a loud voice and turn the ignition to Start.”

He did, but then grew nervous when the engine turned over several times and didn’t catch immediately. The plane had been sitting cold for two days, so I wasn’t worried. I gently put my hand over his and held the key in the start position. The engine roared to life. He relaxed and gave me a shy grin.

“Good job,” I said through the intercom. “A plane is just like a person—it takes a while to get going on a cold day. Now, let’s wave to your mom.” We did. “Okay, scan the area one more time and we’ll taxi. Put your feet on the rudder pedals but don’t push. Just follow along as I move them. Also, put your hand here.” I pointed to the throttle. “I’ll move it, but I want you to feel what I’m doing. Okay?”

“Okay— err, I mean, roger.”

I put my hand over his, did my own scan of the area, and pushed the throttle until the plane eased forward. Damon’s hand felt nervous under my own, but I gave him a confident nod and taxied out of the row of parked planes.

He listened intently as I called on the radio and then waited for a Beech Bonanza to land before we taxied onto the runway itself. Takeoff and climb-out were routine, but I gave Damon a running monologue of what I was doing at each phase.

He was hooked from the start, and I felt a familiar sense of excitement as he watched and listened. We flew over the resort and inn and circled the village several times. Then I called the controller and took us up a few thousand feet to see the whole area. I let Damon try his hand at the controls. I coordinated his turns with the rudder pedals, but he had a steady hand and kept a sharp lookout the entire time he was in control.

We returned to the airport about forty minutes later. Damon’s smile stretched from wingtip to wingtip when we finally parked and cut the ignition.

“What do you think?” his mother asked as we joined them in the warmth of the FBO. “Never mind. I know that look.” She added to Christy, “His father’s the same.” To me, “Christy says you’ll be back next weekend. Do you think you can give him another lesson? We’ll pay for your time, of course, and all the expenses.”

“I don’t know if we’ll be back next weekend,” I said politely. “We both have classes and projects and all. But probably the weekend after that.”

“After Valentine’s Day?” Carolyn said, and I nodded. “We’ll have a room ready for you.”

“And I’ll pick out some skis and bindings and boots you might like,”

Damon added.

Carolyn arched an elegant eyebrow.

“We’re going to buy better equipment for Paul,” Christy explained.

“Ah. Good plan.”

“One last thing before we go,” I said to Damon. “C’mon, I’ll show you how to refuel the plane.”

When we returned to the office, I tried to give the attendant my credit card, but he shook his head and told me Carolyn had already paid. Christy gave me a look, so I simply said thank you instead of arguing. We said our goodbyes and told them we’d see them in two weeks.

Christy and I talked during the trip to Knoxville, but it was mostly chitchat to pass the time. Between that and the flight itself, I didn’t have time to brood. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case once we landed in Knoxville, and I fell silent on the drive home.

I was mildly annoyed that Christy found it so easy to spend money, mine or her father’s. I was also a little irked that she’d made plans for us without even discussing it. It didn’t matter that I’d agreed; it was the principle. She sensed my mood and knew me well enough to figure out the reason—half of it, at least.

“I know,” she said, “I should’ve asked first. I’m sorry. I was just so excited, and Carolyn was so nice, and… I get ahead of myself sometimes. Do you forgive me?”

Her apology did a lot to cool my resentment, and the money wasn’t worth an argument. Like Trip had said, why have it if I couldn’t spend it on my friends?

“Yeah, it’s okay,” I said. “I want to go too. I just wish we’d talked about it.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“Eh, what’s done is done. Let’s move on.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I did it ’cause I really want to spend time with you. Alone, I mean. I love Wren and Trip, but…” She shrugged.

“Well, it gives them time to be alone too.” I had a thought and shot her a grin. “I wonder how many rooms they did it in this time.”

“Probably all of them.” She frowned when she realized what that meant.

“Um… except ours, I hope. And my studio.”

I glanced at her with a question.

“I have plans for that couch,” she said. “I want us to be the first to… you know.”

“The beanbags too,” I added.

“I… think I’ll say something to Wren. She won’t be happy that we still haven’t gone all the way, but that’s too bad. It isn’t her body. It isn’t her soul, either.” She paused for a moment before she rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what her problem is. She’s getting everything she wants.”

“Well, she wants to have sex with both of us.”

“I know. I get it. She wants us to be swingers. But I have news for her…

it isn’t that simple. What if I don’t want some other guy? Or… what if I want you all to myself? You’re my boyfriend, dammit!”

I flashed her a grin.

“Anyway,” she continued in a calmer tone, “I’m sorry I made plans without asking.”

“We’ll survive,” I said. “At least we talked about it.”

“I guess this means we had our first fight. Or not-fight.”

“Do you think we need to not-make up?”

“Probably.”

“Well, you know what that means.” I turned onto our street and pulled into the driveway. Wren’s old car was gone—they must’ve sold it as well—

and the new Volkswagen sat in the driveway by itself. I parked behind it.

Then I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. It wasn’t hard, but I waved it at Christy anyway.

She studied me for a moment and then said, “I can’t believe I’m about to do this in public. Again! You’re a bad influence.”

“Very bad,” I agreed. “Very bad indeed.”

To be continued…

Read the next book in the series, Kinky Confessions.

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