Lust Dazed

LUST DAZED Charlotte Stein Dedication To my editor, Christine, for being more wonderful than I ever imagined an editor could be.

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Starman: Columbia Pictures Corporation Mentos: Perfetti Van Melle Benelux BV Corporation

Chapter One Ellie Morgan could hear them through the bedroom door—all their excited boysy chatter as they tumbled into the apartment, on birthday highs. She could imagine exactly what they looked like, half-cut and dressed in their stupid idea of best. Evan in his too-tight striped jersey with the one frayed cuff, and those jeans that made him look like he had drainpipe legs. Jimmy in his tan suede coat that smelt weird. Both of them flushed, because of the drink they could never take. Once, the pair of them had goaded each other into tequila slammers, then spent the night hung over her toilet. Crying for her to bring them damp cloths and hold their hair back. Like a pair of girls. A weird, hairy, massive pair of girls, who had then needed blankets and chicken soup and lots of sappy movies—followed by gory movies to prove their continuing manliness. They were very manly, both of them. Which is why they were most definitely going to love a big swirly birthday cake, with lots of animal candles that were about to melt into funny shapes. Manliness practically demanded surprise birthday cakes from a friend who had claimed she couldn’t make it. Especially when manliness also practically cried, on hearing that said friend couldn’t make birthday fun. She was starting to think they relied on her a little too much—but for what, it was hard to say. Loads of games of Mario Kart? Many, many insane ideas for features to go in the magazine they all worked for? Chicken soup and silence, on the sappy movie issue?

All seemed possible. And yet she still cringed inside her skin for a brief moment, while thinking of the probably silly cake and whether or not they really, truly would appreciate her being here. The candle flames flickered in the absolutely masculine depths of Evan’s dim bedroom, and it just seemed…very intrusive. On the whole boys-y thing they had going on, beyond the closed door. They were probably going to wrestle, and shoot guns into the ceiling, and other things they did when she wasn’t around. Such as watching dirty movies. Like, right now. While she stood in Evan’s bedroom, possibly only inches away. She almost let the suddenly far too heavy cake slide right off its board, when Evan said as loud as a gong bashing against her head— “No—no. Not another porno, seriously.” And she knew it was Evan, too—because his voice so rarely stretched above anything but that oddly soothing monotone. It got more pronounced, too, during arguments and embarrassing happenings—as though tough things to say dragged against him. Jimmy, on the other hand… “Come on—you’re going to love this one.” Bright as a bean. Always enthusiastic. Sometimes she felt as though he was the one forever dragging those tough things through Evan’s body. Not to mention all the stuff he was currently dragging through hers. It dragged until her mind popped up with—they really are going to shoot guns into the ceiling! Only, you know. Metaphorically speaking. Lord, she didn’t want to stick around for metaphorical. Jimmy would be okay with it, but Evan hadn’t even liked it when she accidentally planted her face in his groin due to an unfortunate combination of slipping sofa cushions and tangled Nintendo wires. He had gone around for the entire week afterwards, with an invisible force field around himself. Face flaming at the strangest moments, as though the memory of it kept prodding him through the barrier. Evan was weird about touching. She couldn’t imagine how weird he’d be about porn eavesdropping. It amazed her that he’d used the words “not another”—as though he and Jimmy had watched one together, before. Of course, she knew that men did that. Though it occurred to her that a large contingent of them were probably gay. Or at least, searching their feelings—which she’d sort of suspected before, what with all the lack of girlfriends and the hanging out with a girl platonically stuff. Plus there was the whole crying at the movie Starman thing—though that didn’t really seem to signify gay as much as wet. But either way, the need to burst out of the bedroom before anything more was inadvertently said to a third party had grown great. There was only a certain window in which she could reasonably pretend she hadn’t heard anything. This was definitely that

window. Why, at this point she could just throw open the door and hold the cake aloft, and nothing would ever be said about any of this ever— “Check it out. Who does that remind you of?” Seriously. One foot had been in front of another. She had almost gotten to balancing the cake on one hand, in order to reach for the door handle. Before they went and pulled her back in, the gits. “I—you’ve got to be kidding. Don’t put it in my face! Don’t—knock it off!” In the mean time, several options had presented themselves to her brain— the Queen. Patrick McGoohan. Mindy from accounting. Maybe Evan himself, because Jimmy’s a weird pervert who wants to see Evan watching his doppelganger do…stuff. The latter would have been her guess. Though in her heart of hearts, she feared she was about to be proved, horribly, horribly wrong. Invisible forces—probably the same ones that had protected Evan against the evils of suddenly sexualised friends—tried to shove an elbow into her back, and make her to go through the door. They managed an inch, in the right direction. “Where do you even find this stuff? Where? Do you go looking for it? No wait, I want to never know.” She had often though that she and Evan were of one mind on many and varied topics. How right she was, in that moment! “Hey—I jerk off, like a man. Unlike you. Eunuch.” The force tried to push her another inch. How she wished there really was a Jedi around, as the word implied. “I haven’t slept with anyone in three months. I haven’t stopped…you know.” God. God. He was going to hate her for hearing this. It seemed incredible that he was saying it to Jimmy. Whenever Jimmy went into gory detail about foreskins and perineums and the length of his nut-sack—which was often—Evan always went that same red. The one he’d gotten over the face-plant issue. But this time Jimmy didn’t defer to his embarrassment. He didn’t tone it down or stop yakking. Instead— “So fucking uptight. Sit down, okay? Loosen up.” How weird, that she hadn’t previously known a conversation could hypnotise a person. Or paralyse them. Or maybe both. Either way, her feet appeared to be glued to the floor and all good sense flapped aimlessly, above her head somewhere. Though it occurred to her that if she couldn’t move forwards, and burst in, and pretend that she hadn’t heard what seemed like reams and reams of conversation, she could at least go backwards. Put the cake down, get under the sheets, and cover her ears with a pillow. When they found her she could pretend she’d called over, only to fall asleep. Yes! Yes! Top notch plan, Ellie. “You really, honestly, one hundred percent think it’s uptight to not want to watch a porno starring what can only be described as our friend, Ellie Morgan.”

Indoor lightning struck her body. He had said her name. Her name. Hers. And he was still talking! “Seriously. That’s what you’re going with.” They weren’t actual questions, however. They remained in that dark deadpan he could slip into so easily—though most of the people he knew casually would never think it, that he could be so dryly funny. He was such a sweetheart, really—so considerate and thoughtful. Those same people would also never think that he would go along with anything like this. Not ever, in a million years. Until, you know. He actually did. “And yet you’re sitting down. Facing the television. For convenient viewing of said appliance,” Jimmy said. “You’re a cocky shit.” It sounded weird, coming from Evan’s usually careful mouth. But it retained a playful edge, and she could just about make out Jimmy scampering, in response. Giddy as anything, ready to put on a dirty movie starring someone with her face. So they could what? Laugh? Like it? Hyperventilation ensued. Lord, what if they liked it? “You want to see, admit it.” There was a long pause. There had been the sound of bottles clinking, and she could almost make out Evan raising a glass to his lips—probably Jack Daniels. Probably very much needed, to oil his way through this. Unless he was just a completely different person to the one she thought he was. And somehow, that made waiting to hear what he’d come out with next, harder. Much harder. Unbearable, in fact. “I’d really rather not see her banging another dude, while faking her way through an orgasm.” Was that a good answer, or a bad answer? “Want to see her have a real one, huh?” Lord, there wasn’t even an option, with that question. It was all bad, miles of bad. There was a doom-laden pause. One that seemed to stutter all the way through her now melting body. How long had they been talking about stuff like this? A month? A year? Two? Back when they first started working together and being friends? “No. I—no.” He sounded sullen. She could almost hear the blush that would undoubtedly be all over his face, through the door. “Think she’s a screamer?” “I don’t want to talk about her like that, Jimmy—come on.” That felt good, somehow. Like the Evan she knew. He really was a sweetheart, even if the thought of him being any different—talking like Jimmy was, maybe— didn’t seem quite as ugly as maybe it should.

There was undoubtedly something electric, about him using the word orgasm. And banging. And Jimmy wheedling it all out of him, one thread at a time. It made her want to plant her wobbly thighs down on the bed, but then where would she be? She’d just be sat there, listening in to Evan’s secret private feelings. “Sure you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have jerked off into her underwear.” Like the one Jimmy then cocked out, as though he really did have a gun. Which seemed very likely, considering the hole he’d just blasted through her brain. What other explanation was there, for the sudden lack of higher thought processes? It seemed very likely that she really had fallen asleep, on Evan’s bed. This was all almost certainly an insane dream. One in which Evan jerked off into her underwear. But he was lying, right? He was lying. Evan would never. God, this was like hearing your Mum and Dad having sex. A little sound burst from her lips, but they were too engrossed in craziness to hear her. “I told you—I didn’t! I was just—they felt nice, all right? I didn’t even know they were Ellie’s!” Jimmy made a loud farting noise, in response. Background porn saxophones were starting to whine. “Who else is going to have left their silky smalls here? You’ve got to try harder, bro. Otherwise, one day, she might actually guess! Argh, no, a girl I like knows I like her—fuck!” She sat down on the edge of the bed, at that. The cake really needed putting down, too—right next to her on Evan’s bed sheets. They were still talking—Evan protesting, Jimmy ribbing him harder and harder—but her mind somehow managed to flick away from them. She thought of the face-plant. And that time at Gary’s party, when he’d asked to talk to her alone. That’s what people did, right? In movies and sitcoms and the like. They wanted to get you alone, so they could drunkenly spill their feelings. About masturbating, into your underwear. She couldn’t tell if it was awful or otherwise, that the idea didn’t bother her. And especially not when her mind kept trying to imagine it. Had Jimmy…caught him? Where had she left her knickers? Probably the spare room. So maybe Evan had come in to straighten up—which wasn’t unusual; he straightened up Jimmy’s room, too, when neatness overwhelmed him—and found her underwear. Then…what? Lust overload? An insane urge to rub the silk all over his big, stiff, eager— Lord. She opened her eyes, and tried to focus on the here and now. But that didn’t do any good, because the here and now included porn music and grunting and sighing, and the boys had fallen suspiciously silent. Until Jimmy said— “That’s hot.” And Evan replied— “Do you really have to jerk off?” It was those words that made her face heat. Though probably not because of embarrassment. She felt fairly certain that said feeling was a factor, but oh God there were

other feelings, too. She pictured Jimmy jerking off in front of his friend—just like that, casual as anything—and other feelings barged their way in. Then even weirder— “Don’t worry, man—he eats her out, in a second.” “I don’t care what goes on in it. It just doesn’t do it for me, okay?” “Yeah, you said that last time. Right before it got to the stuff you like and then— bingo!” Evan snorted, in response. But it wasn’t a convincing sort of sound by any stretch of the imagination. “Look— just do it underneath a cushion or something. You’re not going to get your hand inside the trousers you’re wearing tonight,” Jimmy said. An image flashed unbidden, into her head. Evan with his hand stuffed inside sweatpants or something else similarly loose, jerking off too-quickly. While Jimmy did the same right next to him, only right out in the open. “I don’t want to…you know. I’m fine.” He didn’t sound fine. He sounded foggy and lax—not like himself at all. She wanted to say it was the drink, but somehow knew it wasn’t. Apparently, this was Evan’s voice, when he was turned on. “Really? Because I think you’ve got something big and uncomfortable looking wedged in your pants.” There wasn’t a reply, to that one. Only the actress that looked like her moaning yes, yes, lick my pussy. “Good, right?” Jimmy said. Definitely breathless, by this point. If she strained, she was sure she could hear his hand shuttling up and down his cock. “Looks just like her.” “Ellie is prettier. And her breasts are real.” “Yeah, but it’s not that hard to imagine. God, look how wet she’s getting. I bet she loves getting her pussy licked.” “You’re disgusting,” Evan replied—but he didn’t seem sure. “There’s nothing wrong with sex. With enjoying yourself.” “I never said there was! I just—not in front of you. It was humiliating, for me, okay? When you caught me. It was humiliating.” “Yeah, but you still came. And you came last time, too—right when that little brunette chick in the other movie sat on hairy dude’s face.” Evan made a little protesting noise, but not much else. “Is that what you like, huh? You want some chick—no, you want Ellie to sit on your face? Or maybe you were hoping she’d be the one catch you coming on her underwear? Is that it? She could tell you off, and you’d be all shamefaced, and then she could lick and suck all that mess off you with that pointed tongue of hers, and that fat little pout of a mouth—” The sound Evan then made was not one of protest—not in the slightest. And oh, it was loud. She felt it right down to the soles of her feet. It made her dig her nails into her palms

even tighter. It made her want to cross her legs, over the terrible and insistent ache between them. “That’s it. Just relax, man.” “Don’t watch me, don’t watch me,” Evan panted, before the rasp of a zipper. She got a sense of them moving around—these friends she’d never be able to look in the eye again. “I’ll just be over here, doing my stuff. I won’t watch.” But Jimmy seemed suddenly much more breathless and, well, like a liar. Which only added further complicated pieces, to this nightmare jigsaw puzzle. “He comes on her face, soon,” Jimmy said. Just conversationally, in between the very obvious slick back and forth the pair of them seemed to have taken up. She could almost see Evan’s big, long-fingered hand on his erect cock, rubbing up and down and up and down while he turned his body to one side, so Jimmy couldn’t see. “Would you do that to Ellie?” It was almost certain that Evan wouldn’t answer. Certain. He seemed caught up in whatever he was doing, at any rate. He wouldn’t— “Yes. Yes.” The two words seemed punctuated, by the rapid motion of his hand on his body— though she couldn’t hear it exactly. It was purely the impression of his pleasure—such a strong impression. Then just that pair of affirmatives, that made her shiver like a struck dog. “You’re gonna come soon, huh?” He offered a lot of mmmms, in response. But all she could think was—how can Jimmy tell? Because he’s watching again? Because Evan has his head back against the couch, legs spread wide? Maybe he’s trembling, just a bit, and the tip of his cock is swollen and red, and every time the fake-me flashes her wide wet pussy onscreen, his hips jerk up like an involuntary spasm. The urge to slip her own hand under the waistband of her trousers flashed suddenly too strong to bear. They were engrossed, though—how would they ever know? Of course, they’d find her in here, then there’d be an embarrassing week or so, but they wouldn’t know she’d masturbated, too. Unless they caught the scent of her river wet pussy, of course. “Don’t go yet, okay? Don’t get yet. Wait.” Jimmy’s voice had turned jerky and high. Evan didn’t sound much better. “I’m—okay. Okay. I’m almost—I need tissues. Pass me the tissues.” “Jesus, Ev—just come on yourself!” A short struggling sound ensued. Then some panting. Then— “I—God. God! Ohhh that’s really nice. Oh yes, Ellie, Ellie!”

She covered her eyes, but they really weren’t the thing in need of shelter. Her ears were the organs that got assaulted—by the harsh, guttural grunt that accompanied Evan’s really, really obvious and orgasm. Far more obvious than she’d ever thought he’d be. And that wasn’t even getting into Jimmy, saying pretty clearly, God, you look hot when you come. Oh what fun they were all going to have when the pair of them discovered her, in Evan’s bedroom.

Chapter Two He felt the way he usually did, when Jimmy talked him into something seedy. Embarrassed, conflicted over the whole thing, and still horny. Still really, impossibly horny. It had happened the last time they jerked off together, too—though Jimmy hadn’t seemed to notice, thankfully. And later on, in bed, he’d brought himself off twice more to appease the roaring ache in his groin. Truth was, his prick didn’t even seem to want to go down. It took some fighting, to get it back into his ridiculous jeans—after he’d mopped up the ocean of spunk that had just missed his rucked up jersey. How amazing had that orgasm been? So amazing that once would never be enough. He knew without a flicker of doubt that Jimmy would put the DVD in a place he could find it. And he also knew that he’d be finding it again, when neither Jimmy nor Ellie were around. Jesus. Ellie. What on earth would she think to him doing a thing like this? She’d be disgusted. She’d never be friends with him ever again. She’d chant yes yes yes while he licked her pussy—fuck! It was trapped inside his brain, now. Unlike Jimmy, who just took the whole thing in his laidback stride. When he flopped back down on the sofa with a beer, he looked like he’d never masturbated before ever in his entire life, no sir. He looked light-hearted and pleased with himself. “You want one?” he said, and flashed those rows of white teeth at him. Those big, innocent, baby blues. Not like hairy old him, who completely looked like the sort of person who did perverted things in macs. “You okay, man? Look—it was just a bit of harmless over the wrist action. No big deal. So you wanted to look at Ellie’s tits while you did it, so what? Came hard, didn’t you?” If by hard Jimmy meant “blew the back of his head off” then yes, yes he did. He could

still feel the aftershocks, sizzling through his thighs. And his cock kicking at the words “Ellie’s tits”. “I’m gonna go wash up—properly.” “Oh yeah. ‘Cause jizz is so dirty.” He ignored the mocking twist in Jimmy’s voice and stood, aiming for his bedroom door. His wobbly legs had other ideas, however, and tried to plunge him into the TV. “Whoa—steady, man. Hey—take it easy.” Christ, how could he always remain so cool and in control? Evan couldn’t have controlled himself at that moment if scaffolding and a manual had suddenly appeared, out of nowhere. If he could just get to his bathroom, then maybe the shower could hold him up. And some of the Jack Daniels could emerge. And everything could just go back to the way it was, repressed and awesome. But then Jimmy was there, opening the door for him—so together and collected. Why, look at how ably he opened doors and didn’t care about weird jerking off sessions with his best bud over their other best bud! Although… He did seem to be kind of sinking against the door, all of a sudden. And a sound was coming out of him, like something had decided to die in his windpipe. And oh good God, Ellie. Ellie. God. Ellie. No. No. No. Wipe it from your mind, wipe it from your mind, it’s not real, Evan! Only it was real. It was, because she looked shell-shocked in a way his feeble mind could never hope to replicate. She was grimacing and smiling—all at the same time. With a cake in her hands. Something inside him prayed, that the inscription read— Thanks Ever So, For Masturbating Over Me. Though he somehow knew that it was much more likely to be a birthday cake. Probably somehow half chocolate, half vanilla, too—because Jimmy preferred the former and he liked the latter. She would have written Happy Middle Birthday on it, he knew— because that’s what she always did. They celebrated that day in between their two real birthdays, and this was the tradition. How awesome, that they could now add masturbation to the list of things they usually did. “Phew. Awk-ward,” Jimmy said. Because he was Jimmy. Whereas words—inane or otherwise—didn’t want to make it to his mouth. Perhaps because his body seemed to be shaking minutely all over. And his entire history with Ellie was playing behind his eyes. That time she’d rubbed his shoulders, almost absentmindedly. And he’d got hard.

That time she’d tripped and planted her face in his groin. And he’d got hard. That time she’d looked at him, just around the curtain of her curly mass of dark hair, or winked at him, or chewed gum in a certain sort of way. And he’d got really, really hard. All of that gone, now, because he’d done something awful about the whole getting hard thing. He couldn’t meet her gaze. It was currently flicking between the two of them, but he couldn’t return it. Even without eye contact, he knew his cheeks were burning red. He could feel it on the nape of his neck, too, and perspiration had gathered in the hollow at the base of his back. “I really didn’t hear anything,” she said, but it wasn’t a relief. Mainly because she was obviously, obviously lying. He could hear it, in the up and down vibrato of her voice. And when he dared look at her, he could see it in the tremble of her arms—as though she’d held the cake far too long. While listening in awestruck horror. Then there was the flush all over her, too—the one that Jimmy kindly thought to mention. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you look sort of hot there, El.” The word hot made him want to close his eyes. Clearly she was mortified and unsure of what to do, and Jimmy was there using a word that could mean so many, many things. Hot as in gorgeous—which was unfortunately true, right at that moment. She had on that clingy jersey with the almost v-neck—the one that showed off how full and firm her breasts were. And her lips were all wet and parted and her hair just messy like that, and he could see really clearly through the skimpy material that her nipples seemed to be hard. He tried not to look, but it was as obvious as the lying. Which brought him around to hot, as in turned on. Why, his mind was an absolute cess-pit! “I’m just…is the furnace on?” Now she was flustered. There wasn’t anything particularly exciting about Ellie being flustered, but his cock seemed to be stiff, anyway. In truth, he wasn’t sure it had even gone anywhere, during this entire humiliating escapade. Not even when they both blundered in here, and there she was. He thought about her hearing him, moaning. God, he had moaned really, really loudly. And said her name, when he climaxed! He was pretty certain that he had almost definitely said her name. Probably while adding something disgusting, like oh baby sit on my face. “Nah—the furnace isn’t on,” Jimmy was saying—in this weird, suggestive sort of way. How in fuck’s name did you get suggestive into furnace? Next he was going to start

talking about boilers or pipes, and oh what then, what then? She was putting the cake down on the bed. The cake was on the bed, and now she was wiping her hands on her jeans—as though they were sweaty. He knew a thing or two about that, though. His own hands felt as though oceans had set up camp around the palm area. Ships were going to start sailing, any second. “Listen, guys. I really didn’t mean to…hear anything. I swear to God! And about two minutes in when I knew where it was going and you said…stuff, I was going to burst out and act like I’d not heard the…stuff. I really was! But then…” Oh God. Was she apologising? Oh no she was. They had masturbated while saying things about her and watching porn with her in it, and she was apologising to them. This was hands down the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Even worse than when he’d tried to tell her that he thought he was falling in love with her, and instead had asked her if she got bad cramps during her period. At least when asking inappropriate questions about the female reproductive system, you couldn’t accidentally masturbate over her. Or hear her apologise about that. “It just got too embarrassing for me to come out!” “Embarrassed, or a little worked up? Huh?” Jimmy said. Then he laughed. Laughed. And did some winking and some other stuff and God, he couldn’t remember why he was friends with a person like Jimmy. “Look—we’re really sorry, Ellie. I’m really sorry. You don’t have to be at all, you don’t. You came over here to do something nice for us and we…do that. I can’t imagine what you must think.” His voice sounded weird and crumpled, even to him. But her expression remained without accusation. If anything she looked nervous, and…maybe a little ashamed? “Don’t listen to Mr. Moral, over there. Come on—you liked it, right?” “Jimmy!” It snapped out of him, but his friend barely flinched. Just glanced at him, one eyebrow rakishly raised. “What? She clearly did. She’s all hot and trembly—like the way you get.” Evan tried to make words, but could only find the wherewithal to cover his face with one hand. Though really, he should have known Jimmy would want to make things worse. He always did. “I’m…not!” she said, after a moment of stuttering struggles. That pause between I’m and not seemed immense. “I didn’t even listen. I mean, I heard the gist, but that’s only because you guys were really loud!” Oh God.

“Yeah, he makes a ton of noise for someone usually so quiet. He calls out your name all the time, too—he’s got a real—” “Will you knock it off!” Evan made a grab for him, suddenly stuffed with fury. But Jimmy just danced away, still grinning and full of probable other awful things to say. “I don’t mind, I don’t—Jim, don’t tease him, okay?” Evan’s stomach folded, on the word tease. Like the pair of them were in on a joke, together. Then Jimmy wrapped an arm around Ellie’s shoulders, as though all of this hadn’t quite made him feel small enough. “Yeah—you don’t mind, do you, El? Thinking about our tall, handsome friend here, twisting himself into knots over you. Getting hard just at the thought of you, but too shy to say.” And oh no, words came out then, awful words, as though the portion of his brain that controlled sense had decided to shut down. “Even if I was too shy, the first thing I’d tell her wouldn’t be that she made me get an erection!” He had been pushed into a corner, but even so. Using the word erection seemed insane, at best. Ellie looked mortified for him. “It’s okay. I think she’d be happy to hear it,” Jimmy said. Then she just looked mortified for herself. “Jimmy—don’t. Let’s just have some cake or something, okay?” Evan said. The first part of his words came out strident and tense, the second so faint it was embarrassing. Though in truth, the thought of all of them sitting down together to eat baked goods seemed, at best, torturous. Which turned out to be a wonderful premonition. They all sat around the kitchen table, Jimmy secretly smiling and Ellie looking traumatised, cake sliding down Evan’s throat like bricks coated in glass. And the silence. God, the silence. He didn’t think they’d ever had any time together, spent in such unnerving quiet—apart from the sound of chewing and forks scraping on a cake base and the occasional flick of Ellie’s tongue over her upper lip. Not that you could really hear something like that. It was more like he just really wanted to watch her do it. Then she caught him watching her, and that flush all over her cheeks deepened, and he had to look away again. Only to catch Jimmy, grinning at him. Though to his friend’s credit, he continued to say nothing more about erections. There were some small comforts, amidst this awkward nightmare. And eventually, Ellie’s shoulders seemed to unclench, and her smile got less quavery, and she said a few mindless things like good cake and did you play pinball at the bar?

To which he even answered, haltingly. He managed an I beat Jimmy, only then her eyes locked with his and there was something very weird and uncomfortable about that. There was probably going to be something very weird and uncomfortable about all of this, for a long, long time.

**** Of course, sleep didn’t want to come. Though the worst of it wasn’t that all of it had happened, or even that Evan hadn’t been able to stop himself touching the section where she had probably sat, on his bed. While wondering if it smelt even vaguely of her. And of a very specific place, on her. No, the worst part was—she had decided to sleep over, in the guest room. It just seemed like such a crazy thing to do, though he felt sure she must have a reason for wanting to. Did she expect him to get up, and go and talk to her about it, alone? Without Jimmy there? Maybe that’s what she was waiting for. Maybe she was in there, expecting an apology. A more personal one, directly from him. They had good talks, sometimes, while alone. Sweeter things, than the ones they all had together about dick and fart jokes and who’s tougher, Sigourney or Linda. Once she’d spoken to him about her Mum, and how much she missed her, and all that stuff about reshaping her life around the loss of someone and— She would definitely be waiting for a discussion about this. He tossed the covers aside and grabbed his robe. Then couldn’t decide if a robe was the best idea. Would it look like he was trying to cover something up? He never wore a robe usually, and she knew it. And yet somehow the thin jersey top and cotton bottoms combo seemed very revealing, all of a sudden. A part of his brain decided to inform him that if his cock should rise for any, you know, random reason—it would be very obvious, through such flimsy material. Plus it was easy to see a lot of his chest hair, over the top of his jersey. Jimmy called it his “gay top”, but it was just comfortable for sleeping, and anyway Jimmy was a dick. He loved his friend, but that fact couldn’t be avoided. Dick and Jimmy, sitting in a tree— He stopped himself, before such surreal thoughts went any further into awkwardville. Crossed the hallway barefoot and freezing, to knock on Ellie’s door. There was a brief moment of a concern so strange and panicky it almost stopped him in his tracks—what if Ellie was in there, making love with Jimmy? —then the sound of her voice came from the living room, of all places, and his entire body breathed out. No sex with Jimmy. No-one was having sex with Jimmy. And he didn’t even have to

have this conversation on her bed, because there she was, all curled up on the sofa. She looked cute, wrapped up in a blanket. Cute but with one bare leg poking out from underneath the patterned material, in a way that made his gut kick. And he could see that there wasn’t all that much to whatever she was wearing up top—the curve of her cleavage was just about visible, over the fringe of the blanket. It forced him to sit down next to her quickly, lest her eyes should alight on anything he desperately didn’t want her to see— such as an insistent bulge in his cotton pants, for example. Unfortunately, sitting down only put him too close much too quickly, and she just looked startled. Then warm, all over. Warm in her eyes, warm in her cheeks. “Evan,” she said, and that sounded warm, too. Weirdly, however, the warmth didn’t make him feel good. Nor did her putting her book aside, to wait for him to say God knew what. He had masturbated, while watching her porn twin get it on. It flashed so often in his mind, he started to wonder if it should be the title of his eventual biography. You know—the one he decided to write after being put in prison for perverted ogling of a best friend. “I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. Again. About everything that happened. I couldn’t sleep thinking about it—you’ve got to know that I couldn’t sleep. I have no idea what you must—” It was a shock, when she put her hand over his. So much of one that he stopped talking, mid-sentence, and maybe also felt all of the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “It’s okay,” she said, in a lovely, reassuring sort of manner. He could practically hear the don’t be silly, silly-head, at the back of her words, as she stroked her thumb over his knuckles. “It’s just that Jimmy, you know, he…” “He can be very persuasive,” she finished, for him—but that didn’t seem to sit right, somehow. “No—no. I’m not blaming him. I know what I did and he didn’t make me.” “Right. Of course not.” Was she scooching closer? Why was she closer, suddenly? “I mean, I’ve always had these…I don’t know. I don’t know.” He could feel his face getting hotter, and it didn’t help that she’d progressed from holding his hand, to sort of sliding her fingers underneath, to his leg. And she was rubbing him, in a really not all that friendly sort of way. The blanket had slid off her shoulders. He tried not to look. “So anyway, what I’m trying to say is—no matter what Jimmy suggested, I shouldn’t have gone along with it.”

Her hand was really, really high up on his thigh, now. So high up that every time she stroked—in this deliriously firm sort of manner—her thumb very nearly brushed the underside of his balls. It made him want to inform her of impending danger, or something like it. As though she couldn’t possibly be aware of what she was doing, despite the fact that she was looking up at him with big, soft eyes, and her lips were all parted and moist, and when he dared to look down, he could see the swell of her breasts above the little vest thing she was wearing. He watched, hypnotised, as they went up and down. Up and down. His cock gave the signal for unfinished business, inside the now tight confines of his cotton pants. It made him long for the comfort of a robe, instead of what he had—one leg crossed underneath the other at such an angle that it’d be very difficult for her to make out his erection, should she glance in that direction. But one false move, and things would become extremely obvious. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Seriously—it’s fine.” “You seem to be taking all of this really well.” So well that she appeared to be almost pressed against him—though he couldn’t think when that had happened. And her mouth was…her mouth was very close to his mouth. And her other hand had found its way to the nape of his neck, where it stroked and tickled the soft swatch of hair, there. It all made her seem very confident—the trembling aside. “Are you cold?” he asked, then keenly felt the stupidity of such a question. Of course she wasn’t cold—she was nervous and embarrassed and who knew what else. Which made reaching for the blanket even more ridiculous then his body briefly pressing into hers suggested. Her breasts pushed warm and full against his chest, and a little too, too obvious sound came out of her mouth—but that wasn’t the worst of it. No—the worst came when she squirmed in his arms as he fumbled with the blanket, and one of her legs straightened and sort of hooked over his, and— The moment it happened, he tried to block it from his mind. But that wasn’t really of much use, because her moving like that—and briefly rubbing what felt like her groin over his—could easily be dismissed. But her words couldn’t. “Oh my God you’re hard. Is that you? Is that your erection?” He tried to think of things it might possibly be, besides his big stiff cock—and all while attempting to cover as much of her up with the blanket as possible. Could she have felt a strategically placed banana, stuffed down his pants? Perhaps the keys he conveniently kept inside his sleepwear? Maybe a roll of Mentos, for those urgent minty fresh breath occasions.

“It’s just the way I’m sat.” His mind applauded—bra-vo. But what good was his mind, when it went blank under such duress? It went blank again, the moment her hand suddenly slid utterly and completely between his legs. Right. Over. His. Roll of Mentos. “Ellie!” “Do I really turn you on this much? Or are you thinking about something else? Jesus, you’re solid.” If she kept talking, he felt sure his mind would never return. This just wasn’t how things were supposed to go. She should have been a little mad, then they were meant to talk, and bond again—probably over more cake and Nintendo—before returning to bed, happy and satisfied. Instead she was stroking him, through a layer of thin cotton. Not even just exclaiming about it as though trying to embarrass him, anymore. Really rubbing, like she wanted to get him even more riled up. And it was definitely working. It was working so much that he felt sure orgasm was close—especially when she tried to kiss his open mouth. Somehow that jerky, hesitant press of her lips—so much less assured than her hand over his prick—sent deep, urgent spikes of pleasure, directly to his groin. Perhaps because it meant that she was serious. Not just trying to embarrass him or going for something quick and dirty. She wanted to kiss, and really do this, and maybe God maybe she actually wanted him. He thought about Jimmy saying that it had turned her on, to listen. Then Evan kissed her back, in that same nervous sort of fashion—like a blunder of the lips, suddenly together. She didn’t let it remain like that for long, however. The hand at the nape of his neck pulled him closer, and her lips slid wetly over his, and after that came her tongue. He definitely felt her tongue slide into his mouth, slippery and lewd, before he got up the courage to give her a little of it back. When he did, she moaned all the way down into the centre of his body. It made him want to say her name, but such a task became difficult under the duress of frantic kissing. Because that’s what they seemed to be doing—frantically kissing each other. Hands in each other’s hair, mouths greedily working until he felt sure his stubble was about to leave burns. Not that she seemed to care. He knew what she was trying to do—stuff her other leg between the side of his body and the couch, so that she could straddle him. Her hand had long since left his aching cock, but her eagerness to get other body parts over it was extremely gratifying. Stunning, but gratifying. As were arms, around his neck. And the way she suddenly stopped kissing his lips, to

press her wet open mouth to his jaw, his cheek, his throat. He pulled her closer, closer, and breathed in her amazing Ellie smell. All her soft skin, suddenly under his hands—the slight curve of her upper arms and the expanse of her shoulders. If he stroked beneath her hair, he could feel so much of her back above the tiny vest. When she said— “God, Evan, Evan. I’ve wanted this for so long.” It didn’t seem like such a bad idea, to pass his hand beneath the flimsy stretch of material. Not such a bad idea at all, and Lord her back was warm and silky smooth and her tongue appeared to be curling around his earlobe. When she suddenly pulled him down on top of her, he didn’t protest. Their friendship was likely in ruins, and maybe she was just doing this because of weird earlier antics but Jesus, who cared? He landed right between her legs. Right between them! And she said— “Oh that feels nice.” As his hard dick ground over all the places she obviously wanted it. It made him want to rut, mindlessly, while their mouths blundered together again and her hand sank deep into his hair. He tried to recall other girls, other fucks that had been like this—so frenzied and tangled yet somehow arousing simply because of those two elements—but nothing and noone came to mind. And especially not, when she slid her hand under the waistband of his pants, and over the curve of his bare ass. It took him a moment to realise she was trying to push them down. But once that idea had settled, other things settled, too. Like the idea that maybe it was okay, to remove her clothes. She might actually prefer to have them off, for the thing they were definitely about to do. Only somehow his hand just wound up underneath her top, rather than performing this vital service for her. He slid it seamlessly inside, then nothing else existed but the feel of her soft, warm flesh against his palm—the little bead of her nipple, tight and so sensitive that when he squeezed over it, her mouth went slack over his. Not to mention her hips rocking up against him, and something warm and excessively hot passing over his erection, and God, it was all just too much. He simply had to drag himself away. Just a little—just enough to get his hard cock away from that space between her legs. And get his hand over her heated sex, instead. He tried it through her cotton shorts, first, pressing and rubbing until she squirmed and cried out and even better—informed him that he was going to make her come. But

things got really good when she took his hand and…Jesus. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a girl push someone’s hand underneath the waistband of her underwear. However, Ellie seemed to have no qualms about it, whatsoever. She just shoved him right inside, and pushed against his tentatively stroking fingers until wetness engulfed them. He attempted slow, at first, running his thumb through her slit while thrusting, gently, inside her. But that didn’t seem to satisfy on any level, and when she cried out it wasn’t for care and consideration. She rocked against his hand, firmly, and when he twisted his fingers just right, and thrust them back and forth at a good, strong pace, her whole body bucked for him. And when he found her clit with his thumb… He couldn’t even think of the racket she was making, because that same racket spent all its time, sending dirty messages directly to his groin. His cotton pants began to feel like torture against the swollen head of his cock, and really—would it be too much to just take it out? Would she mind so much, if he just jerked off left-handed, while seeing to her with his right? Or maybe she’d simply take to jerking him off with her completely free hands, the minute his cock hit air. Which she absolutely did. Her little hand circled him greedily, testing its length out a little before—oh, how kind God was!—bringing her palm up to her mouth, to lick, wetly. She was actually thoughtful enough to provide that extra bit of slickness—and in as lewd a way as possible—before rubbing his already gleaming cock. She was amazing. An angel. She— “I could go grab some lube, if you like. He loves it as slick as you can get it.” Jimmy. Fuck. Jimmy. His first instinct was to cover whatever might have been showing on Ellie. After all— Jimmy had seen his cock. But he hadn’t seen most of Ellie’s right boob and some of the dark hair that covered her mound. Unfortunately, his valiant efforts to do so were quickly thwarted, by Ellie’s sudden and violent desire to finish coming. In fact, so sudden and violent was this desire, that she clamped his hand between her legs and said what may or may not have been— don’t you dare fucking stop, oh fuck, don’t stop, Evan, Evan. It definitely sounded like it. And while she spoke such heavenly words, she paid absolutely zero attention to Jimmy. Despite the fact that said dickhead was leant against the back of the couch, at the time of her tremendous orgasm. He didn’t even have chance to feel smug, about that fact. Which was just a crying shame, because though it felt as if she gushed all over his hand and the whole thing definitely went on for some time, he just wanted to hug her. And maybe come on her. He didn’t want to hear Jimmy say things like—“Wow. Fuck me that looked awesome. You okay, doll?”

Evan kind of loved her, for replying— “You just like watching people, don’t you?” But Jimmy just held up his hands, grinning like an ass. “Hey—what can I say? You got me.”

Chapter Three What shocked her most was the lack of surprise on Evan’s face. Though she had to say, the anger more than made up for it. He rarely let himself get anything like mad—his frustration with Jimmy over the whole wanking thing was the closest he’d ever come—but he sure seemed cross in that moment. Even if some of the lust definitely remained. She’d never seen anyone give in so easy to desire—like a folding deckchair. Whoomp! Slack faced and big eyed and groaning just because she’d licked her hand and wrapped it nice and slick around his frankly gorgeous cock. Which made Jimmy’s timing sort of unfortunate, and sort of…oddly arousing. It certainly hadn’t stopped that tidal wave of an orgasm—the one she could still feel in her thighs and her twitching clit and in that second bloom of arousal, hot on its heels. She watched Evan’s cock jerk and glisten, while he made mad and hugely frustrated eyes at grinning—but clearly turned on—Jimmy. All of it made her not want to move, ever again. Even if this was insane and probably bad for all three of them. “You’re a dick,” Evan said, but apparently it made his cock leap, to say it. “I know. But—I do also know what you need.” She dreaded to think what he was leaning to the side of the couch for. Was there a guide to gay sex on the end table that she just hadn’t noticed before? “Lotion! Hold out your hand, Ellie.” Good God, he had balls. And likely he was about to be punched and never talked to by his best friend, ever again. Or at least, it seemed that way until some insane power moved her to actually hold out her hand. Then he just seemed shocked, and turned on. The combination looked extremely pretty, on his dark, dazed face. “See? Everybody loves lotion, for a hand job.” It almost made her laugh—but not quite. Not enough to draw focus away from what it felt right to do. It felt right to wrap her hand around Evan’s stiff cock and pump slowly,

working in all that slippery liquid until he no longer seemed aware of Jimmy at all. Or at least, he refused to look at his friend, and kept his gaze on her tits, and did nothing but flinch, when Jimmy suggested that she do it faster. It felt like nothing at all, to obey him. Mainly because him speaking did something quite unexpected—it sent little shivers of pleasure, direct to her sex. As though what she’d secretly been wanting her whole life was some sort of mad hand job master class. “A little harder. Rub near the tip—that’s it. He loves that.” And though Jimmy was absolutely right—she felt Evan jerk forward into her grasp, the minute she did as suggested—he found the sense to reply— “You don’t know what I love.” Though in truth, she didn’t think the resentful-little-kid-in-the-playground tone to his voice took anything away from his clear enjoyment of her firm grip, and her thumb sliding over and over his slit. He bucked forward, roughly, when she carried on regardless, squeezing and rubbing and delighting in the slick firm feel of him against her palm And when Jimmy snorted— “Sure I do. I’ve watched you jerk off, enough.” Evan’s thighs definitely trembled. And they trembled harder, at the sound of Jimmy informing everyone that he knew Evan was close. Apparently he could tell, by the way Evan kept holding his breath. At which, he blurted out— “Ellie, I’m going to come. I’m almost—lift your top.” He seemed somewhat conflicted, however, when doing so meant she exposed most of her breasts to his friend’s utterly gleeful gaze. Though not conflicted enough to stop himself spurting, thickly and in long ribbons, all over her stomach and chest. Nor did it stop that sound she felt sure she would remember forever—a guttural grunt that melted into a high, tight moan, as he orgasmed hard enough to hit the underside of her chin with those lovely streamers of cum. He didn’t flinch, the next time Jimmy touched him. In fact, he just leaned right against the back of the couch, and let his friend run a hand down his back—a soothing hand, a friendly hand, a hand that said that was good, huh? She couldn’t tell for certain, but it almost looked as though Evan nodded, in response to a question that wasn’t actually asked. But then the moment was broken. Whatever spell had been cast slipped away, and she felt him move to clamber off her. She recalled Jimmy’s comment about his need to shower and thought about grabbing him, or telling Jimmy to leave—and probably would have done, if it were not for the cum that was actually all over her. Something which Jimmy did not fail to notice.

“Where you going, bro? You’re not going to leave her like this, are you? Be a gentleman.” There was such a tease in his voice—it left her giddy, and breathless. Of course there was some leftover concern for Evan, but mostly just those other two things— and especially when he looked so dazed and not exactly angry. It made her consider all of Jimmy’s “playful” ribbing and teasing in an entirely new light. One in which Evan was constantly hard, and Jimmy always ready to rev him up. She watched him hesitate, one foot almost on the ground. Mouth ever so slightly open, as though he just couldn’t believe anyone would suggest that he wasn’t a gentleman. Why, he always went the extra mile, for a lady. “Okay—pass me the tissues,” he said, and held out his hand. Unfortunately, in his efforts to be valiant he made a fatal mistake. One which she saw immediately, but he continued to not see until Jimmy had almost let him take the box of tissues from his hand. Almost. So close! Then snatched away, at the last second. “Come on, man—just give them to me!” She watched in what was by that point almost morbid fascination, as Jimmy crooked one innocent baby blue and made an almost perfect hang on a minute sort of face. Whatever this game was, Jimmy had apparently mastered it. Over what could well have been years, without Evan even knowing it. “But I thought you said you liked the taste of your own cum. Isn’t that what you said?” He sounded like a game show host. An evil one, who enjoyed naughty sex games. Evan’s face fell, but thankfully—not all the way. “I never,” he said, though as usual, the lie stood out obviously on his handsome face. “Yes you did—you said to me that you liked tasting your own cum, while imagining…what was the last part?” “I was drunk. I didn’t mean it.” Evan appeared very breathless, suddenly. And not half as angry as he had been, at first— which seemed odd. Surely he should be angrier, now that Jimmy was busy revealing his weird secrets? “You said—especially when you imagined licking it up off of Ellie’s nude body. Right?” “I didn’t say nude.” Oh Lord. This was worse than the whole erection thing. Had he actually just denied the nude part, while failing to address the whole “licking up cum” thing? It was getting

crazy and appalling, the amount of things he seemed to be admitting by default. Next he was going to tell her he’d definitely never imagined having both of them sucking his cock at the same time, before anyone had even suggested he had. And though she chastised herself for letting such thoughts inspire her, it just couldn’t be helped. This was all just too mind blowing to pass up. “What else has he said, while drunk?” Both of them flicked their gazes back down to her—Evan vaguely hurt but still somehow horny looking, Jimmy gleeful as fuck. “Oh, stuff you wouldn’t believe. He told me he thinks about you fingering his ass. Can you believe that?” “Jimmy!” Evan yelped, which made her want to stop, stop, before he started crying over his probably confused sexuality. Even as his still erect cock told her to carry on, carry on. “I didn’t. I didn’t say that, Ellie.” She shifted her weight. Propped herself up on her elbows—and felt his now cooling cum slide tickling trails over her skin, for her troubles. It made reaching him for him difficult, and sort of deliciously gross. God, was she really getting horny again? Or maybe it was just as it was with him—the horniness simply hadn’t dissipated. Instead, it poked at her belly, every now and then, and made his face form a perfect hollow of desire. “It’s okay, if you did—it’s fine, it’s fine. Jimmy—stop being a dick.” “I’m just sharing information. Information that he should have told you, months ago.” “I don’t think I would’ve ever wanted to tell Ellie things about…asses…or cum.” Sadly, his admission only made her mouth turn down at the corners. Why, it was practically criminal, that idea—Evan Jacobson, never talking about asses or cum! And apparently, Jimmy felt the same way. “Which is exactly your problem. You just sit there and listen to me tell stories about how good it feels to have something in your ass, and then you get all flustered but definitely turned on—and then you never want to do anything about it.” A moment of clarity definitely passed over Evan’s face. She could see it, even in the darkness. “You want to fuck me, don’t you,” he said, but Jimmy just laughed. In a way that completely didn’t deny it. “Do you want to fuck Ellie, too?” Again, no denial. She felt something inside her twang, as though her entire body was somehow connected to the pair of them. “Think you’d better start by cleaning her up. She’s all messy, Evan, seriously. Go on and clean her up.”

It seemed almost certain that he wouldn’t. He just continued to kneel over her, gaze locked on Jimmy’s, expression utterly unreadable. She knew his anger should have lasted longer, but somehow it hadn’t, and now there was just this. Just him leaning down, to lick all of the places where he’d marked her. His tongue felt unreasonably hot, against her skin—perhaps because the liquid had cooled, perhaps due to her sudden skin like ice. Then like fire. Then like ice again. Was he really, honestly doing this? Obeying such a lewd demand—and from Jimmy, of all people? It didn’t seem real or possible, and yet she could feel his slippery tongue working over her belly, over her breasts where he’d probably left nothing, before finally searching out her throat. It felt much too close, by that point. His entire body spread over hers, covering trails of saliva that cooled as quickly as his cum had. His mouth on her throat, kissing and licking and suddenly very greedy indeed and— When he kissed her, she could taste him. That musky, salt-sweet tang flooded her mouth before she could properly think about what this might mean, on any level. Instead there was just the insistent press of his cock, suddenly between her thighs, again. It kissed her clit through the material of her panties, and everything in the world went white. It went whiter still, when she noticed the hand on the back of Evan’s head, carding through his feathery hair. Around the soft stroke of his mouth, she could see Jimmy staring down at them—tongue poking up into the edge of his upper lip, eyes almost as lust-blown as Evan’s. She could practically see the erection he was surely nudging against the back of the couch, as the hand on Evan’s head disappeared down, down. It was somehow an incredible turn-on to only know that Jimmy was touching something on Evan that he probably shouldn’t be, because Evan moaned and whimpered into her mouth when it happened. And when Jimmy stroked, she knew that too—entirely through the medium of Evan’s body, suddenly rocking over hers. His cock pressed down too tight, too close, and the urge to fondle him the way that Jimmy was overwhelmed her. She let her hands smooth down his sides to his hips, just to hold him close—at first. But such good intentions soon progressed to entirely inappropriate pulling at him, until he gave in and thrust hard against her. He was surprisingly easy to operate—like he’d just been waiting for her to guide him. Or maybe like he’d just been waiting for Jimmy to guide him, because God he moved fast when Jimmy whispered something she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear. It definitely sounded like take her panties off. And it sounded like permission, too, as though Jimmy had hold of her strings as tightly as he seemed to have hold of Evan’s. Not that she had any urge to complain, when she felt Evan’s fingers fumbling at her hips, for the elastic of her underwear. The only regret came with the loss of his mouth on

hers, as he struggled to first wriggle, then shove them down, body lifting to get the access he needed. He panted hot breaths into the hollow of her throat, one firm hand sudden and shocking on her thigh in an effort to get her legs together. Or at least—together long enough to get her panties down. After which he seemed to want nothing but apart, apart, and oh God, could Jimmy see between her legs? She breathed short and shallow just thinking about it—two sets of greedy eyes on the swell of her pussy, all that wetness glistening on her exposed flesh. It made her stir restlessly in a way she didn’t really want to think about. As did Jimmy saying— “Lick her pussy, first.” She couldn’t stop the moan that swelled in her throat. It just wanted out more than all the rest of the words stuck back there— we’re ruining our friendship, you’re messing with his head, what’s gotten into you? All of those sorts of things. And when Evan made his way down the couch—so eager it made him awkward and all elbows—she thought of nothing but what his mouth would feel like, on her. As good as on her belly? Her breasts? Another moan caught in the back of her throat, to think of that gorgeous mouth sliding greedily through her slit. Then he was there, and oh God, it felt it even better than she could have possibly imagined. So much better, because she could see him crouched uncomfortably at the end of the couch, as though he didn’t care about anything on him and just wanted to obey Jimmy, or get her off, or some combination of the two—right the fuck now. While Jimmy hovered over the pair of them, moving in a way that could only really suggest one thing. She’d know it anywhere, that motion—a sort of furtive shimmy, as though jerking off was just that dirty, a naughty thing you had to hide. And really, what else could he do but keep it on the down low? This was something they’d never be able to talk about in Evan’s squirming tongue alone precluded anything like talking, or going about your real, normal life. He wriggled it around and against her clit with unnerving dexterity, until she wanted to pull out her own hair and possibly float out of this soon-to-be-embarrassed body, which only got more embarrassed with every word out of Jimmy’s mouth. “His last girlfriend wouldn’t let him,” he said, and it came out so casually that she almost chastised herself, for thinking that they’d never have normal conversations again. Why, here was one right now—about Evan’s lack of oral sex loving sex partners. Amazingly, words managed to blow out of her mouth. “You’re kidding. Are you kidding?” Though they didn’t seem like reasonable ones. It had to be some sort of crazy, to hold up a question and answer session with a man who had directed another man to lick your

pussy. Of course, there was always the possibility that she had accidentally stepped into Unlikely Porn Movies Starring The Sexually Challenged, by mistake. Especially since Jimmy just looked so nonchalant, when he answered. As though absolutely no tugging of his cock was going on, behind the scenes. “Nah—he told me. She had a phobia. Drove him so crazy that now he gets hard if you even talk about eating pussy.” She felt something like hysteria swell up inside her, when he shaded his mouth for the next part of this conversation. Like they were two best friends in a sitcom, whispering in an exaggerated and ridiculous fashion. “He popped a boner when we were at the movies, once, because they were going on about muff diving.” “Just—I don’t think we should be talking about this while he’s between my legs.” Again, it took an effort to get the words out. But it was something of a relief once they were shoved in his direction. “Why not, baby doll? I’m willing to bet you any money you like he licks harder and faster and better whenever I’m talking about this sort of thing.” She considered denying that it was the case. Until Jimmy mentioned something else completely humiliating and embarrassing about him, and Evan flicked his tongue over that too, too right spot. The one just to the right of her clit, just as it started to rise—God. God it felt so good she had to bunch the couch into her fists—even when the couch didn’t want to go. Something definitely ripped. Her second orgasm had seemed to dance on the edge of too-sensitive for a while, but now it surged to the forefront, ready and waiting. “You gonna come, Ellie?” Jimmy asked, and there was something about his almost…disinterested tone that yanked at her. It appeared forceful and yet not, demanding and yet laidback. She couldn’t pinpoint it—and neither, it seemed, could Evan. Instead he lapped harder, faster, and when she felt his hand leave the death grip it had previously had on her thigh, of course it was obvious why. He wanted to finger her while he licked as Jimmy left his place behind the couch. Naturally, she knew what that meant. Even in the middle of this aching bliss and her eyes that wanted to close and Evan actually gasping into her pussy, she knew what Jimmy moving signalled. He was going to actually get closer to them, and maybe…do things. In fact, definitely do things. She watched him through slitted eyes as he tore off the t-shirt he was wearing and revealed the solid golden shape of his body beneath, only sighing when she thought of Evan not being privy to the show.

But that only made her consider Evan wanting Jimmy and not wanting her, and oh, confused feelings, confused feelings, what if this was all just them trying to fuck each other through the safe medium of a woman? Though the sight of Jimmy leaning over Evan’s crumpled up body…boy, did that ever make it hard to care. Just the way he rubbed a gentle but clearly desiring hand, over the curve of Evan’s back—and palmed his own stiff cock, as he did so. She could just about make out the thick line of it along the seam of his shorts, through the haze of pleasure and the flick of Evan’s tongue and oh God, the way he moaned when Jimmy stroked him. “Come on, man,” Jimmy said. “Make her come so you can fuck her.” And that was it. That was Jimmy, crossing the bridge between Evan’s hesitancy and reticence and all the things he’d never said, and the dirty things he actually seemed to want. Her entire body tightened under the pressure of words she never thought she’d hear, and once they were out it was all just gushing pleasure and her pussy tightening around the sudden press and slide of Evan’s fingers and the startled sound he made, for reasons she couldn’t identify. Until her orgasm died down, and he pulled away just a little to tell her that he had felt her clit fluttering, against his tongue. She couldn’t find anything bad about his focus being on all the wrong things. And even more so, when it seemed to allow him the dazed leeway, to let Jimmy roll a condom over Evan’s painfully stiff prick. She watched, unable to breathe, as deft and very male fingers slid over his length, teasing briefly in a way that definitely made him shiver. One of his arms even found its way around Jimmy’s shoulders, momentarily, as though his balance had lost its way on the journey towards ultimate straightness. However, Jimmy didn’t do what she felt sure he was about to. She felt so sure, for a moment, that breath-holding turned into a prepared gasp of shock. He leaned into Evan, ruffling his hair at the back as though he’d turned into Jimmy’s big puppy, and that sly mouth of his came very, very close to Evan’s slack one. And Evan didn’t move an inch. Not one inch. As though something about Jimmy’s commanding yet affectionate manner left him wasted and pliant, unable to move beyond anything but pleasure. All the eager pussy eating and the rutting against her and the coming all over her seemed like definite indicators of girl-liking, and yet…this. And Jimmy. And dear Lord was she ever going to be confused while writing in her journal about this, later on. Dear Diary, Today I had a sexually confused threesome with my two best friends. It could be that they have just mistaken me for a man. Love, Ellie Though was it okay if she sincerely hoped her diary thoughts were wrong about that

whole thing? Smutty books said men liked to experiment with each other left right and centre, didn’t they? But then again, smutty books also had werefrogs and magic dildos in them. What did they know, about reality? Or about possibly bisexual men arching over her, expression overflowing with eager desire, while a very non-gay feeling cock rubbed and stroked through her slit. Though somehow, it wasn’t the feel of him doing so that made her shiver and murmur his name. It was the way he blurted out a breathless apology, when the thick head of his cock rubbed over her far too sensitive clit, and the sound out of her mouth edged into discomfort. That was the thing, the gesture that pushed all questions out of her head and just made her want to link her arms around his neck. Help him the way that Jimmy just had, by reaching between their bodies and guiding him all the way in. She felt him flinch at the touch of her hand, then shudder as he slipped into the warm clasp of her pussy, his mouth searching out hers before he’d even begun any kind of slow rock in and out. It felt like he needed it, that reassurance of her kisses, and though such an idea was disturbing, it also flooded her with warmth. Of course the warmth could have been entirely down to the sensation of his thick cock, sliding ever more rapidly and urgently into her—but who was she to split hairs, when everything combined made her giddy with pleasure? Even the suddenly frantic churn of his hips and the press of his fingers deep into the flesh of her hips and his mouth all wet and slack against the side of her face—even those things felt good. And they felt better, knowing that he’d already had two go arounds and probably shouldn’t even be hard, yet could still somehow work up this level of excited enthusiasm. Such excited enthusiasm that Jimmy felt the need to murmur at him to slow down, and placed careful hands on either side of his hips to urge him into a deeper, more drawn out sort of roll. Fuck her like you want it to stick, he said, and that seemed insane and yet so, so good. As did the sight of Jimmy, jerking off as he offered his little sex tutorials. He had his pants shoved down to mid-thigh, one knee up on the edge of the couch, cock jutting up and almost over Evan’s back. With every roll of Evan’s hips—and sweet slide of pressure over her g-spot—his skin skimmed very close to Jimmy’s prick. So close, in fact, that every now and then Jimmy would angle his cock down, and slither a streak of pre-cum over his friend’s back. It was lewd, and filthy, and it made her want to cry with pleasure. And apparently, it didn’t feel much different for Evan. He breathed her name in her ear, shakily, taking her hand when she offered it and squeezing, squeezing. Any moment, he was going to come, she knew, though he at least had the wherewithal to ask if she wanted him to touch her clit again, rub her until she got off, do anything at all and in any order. In answer she wrapped her legs tight around his waist, drew him close and urged him

on, both because of the feel of him fucking into her and all that provoking of bucket loads of good low down sensation, and because…well. He seemed to need it. He delighted too clearly in the squeeze of her hand and her sudden instinct to say his name—though she couldn’t blame him. Lord knew what kinds of things could be confused, in a situation like this. Especially when she was coming close to some awesome kind of orgasm just from being fucked nice and hard, and in that same instant another man grabbed her hand and wrapped it around his cock. It was hard to tell amidst the jumble of limbs, but she knew Evan was looking even without the benefit of a clear sighting. Mainly because his thrusts grew choppy and erratic, and even more so when Jimmy grunted come on, Ellie, make me come, make me come all over him. At that, the level of panting and squirming grew to epic proportions. He twisted over her as though simultaneously trying to get away while pushing for more, and she could feel his grip, tightening over hers. Any second and he was going to pull her hand off—then Jimmy got really close, and Evan’s entire body seemed to seize. She watched his eyes scrunch closed—in almost the same way as when he’d come all over her—right before he managed to blurt out a little no, don’t. It emerged wearing the same embarrassed tone he’d had when telling Jimmy not to look at him, but this time it ended with a guttural groan he couldn’t deny. And nor could she. It excited him, it was obvious—and even worse—or better, depending on the point of view—it thrilled through her, too. The feel of him coming, inside her, while trying to fight it. The idea that Jimmy was doing the same thing through her fingers and all over the back of his best friend. And finally the fact that none of it felt wrong. Not even a little bit.

Chapter Four Evan woke with his face pressed into Ellie’s…well. That was definitely her boob. And she definitely seemed to be asleep, too, with one leg still casually thrown over him and everything still vaguely slick and sticky between them. He recalled snapping off the condom and hurling it…probably not in the trash…but beyond that, things remained foggy. Had she rubbed his back until not lying down on her became almost criminal and definitely stupid? He felt sure she’d at least planted some reassuring kisses, all over his mouth and his cheeks and oh, Ellie. Ellie. They’d had sex. He’d actually taken out his penis and put it in Ellie Morgan and she hadn’t said oh, no, fuck what are you doing? In any sort of horrified voice. She hadn’t cried and told him they should just be friends, or looked mildly disgusted or slightly afraid or any of the other things girls largely did, when he tried to get on top of them.

In fact, he was pretty sure she’d actively encouraged the getting on top. And the licking and touching and hand jobs. She’d even been all over the hand jobs that included his friend. Which probably should feel much, much worse than it apparently did. He waited, patiently, to endure the emotional avalanche, or the crisis of sexuality, or something else probably awful and life-changing. And when nothing came beyond mild disgruntlement about Jimmy crushing his legs at the end of the couch, he thought about calling himself up. You know, just to make sure that himself hadn’t accidentally been taken over by a pod person, in the middle of the night. Even Ellie had seemed to think he needed comforting reassurance and cuddles and boobs in his face. And she was the person who’d touched Jimmy’s cock right before Jimmy decided to come all over— Gross. And maybe kind of hot. But also gross. He ran a hand over his bare back, beneath his sleep shirt. Nothing was left of whatever had been there, but he could still sense it. Probably lurking, near his armpit— that hot wet splash of whatever Jimmy was calling it, lately. Jizz. Spunk. Liquid love. Strangely it was the latter that made his cheeks suddenly burn. Well, maybe that coupled with the thought of walking around with a constant brand on his back and side.

I did something most straight guys usually don’t. And I did it while fucking a girl I’ve had a crush on forever. The whole thing was so weird it seemed impossible that people wouldn’t know just by looking at him. When Ellie looked at him, why, she would almost certainly know. She would always know because she’d been a part of it, and probably next time she’d want him to…and maybe also…and did she like it when he…? God. God. There was something definitely not right about how turned on such thoughts were making him. And particularly so, when Ellie was going to wake up any moment and catch him—his groin was just too close to her thigh for her to miss it. Then maybe Jimmy would wake up, too, and Ellie would giggle about his hard-on, and they’d start discussing his many and embarrassing sexual kinks and oddities, and that would just be unbearable. While also being as equally arousing as the feel of her warm skin, pressed against various parts of him. It felt almost fortunate, that Jimmy woke up first. Almost. “Did we totally just have a threesome? Because bro, I think we did. Up top.” Then he held out his hand, for Evan to high five. Lord.

“Don’t, just—shhhh. And put your hand down, I’m not going to slap it.” But Jimmy just snorted a laugh into what was most likely the bottom of his friend’s leg, before shifting and scrunching around on a sofa that now felt far too small. Evan noted with something like embarrassment, that Jimmy hadn’t bothered to put a top back on. He’d just laid all night over both of them, with no top on. At which point, his brain spewed forth— Man, he must be freezing. Shortly followed by the knowledge that Jimmy didn’t look freezing. If anything he looked boiling hot and totally full of himself, which seemed very different to “bothered that he doesn’t have a blanket”. “Come on—you’re not gonna be all uptight about it, are you?” Evan tried to twist around into some sort of dignified position—but it didn’t come easy, while simultaneously trying not to wake Ellie. “No. No. It’s just…maybe it wasn’t cool, okay? Maybe she won’t be happy about it.” And lowering his voice to say so just made it seem even less cool. “Ah, she loved it! Loved fucking you, at any rate—told you so.” He spoke as he stood, stretching all over like a big dumb cat and scratching places Evan really didn’t want to know about. But it was Jimmy’s tone that really did a number on him—that smug tone, as though he’d played some kind of matchmaker. Though in all honesty, Evan couldn’t really say he hadn’t. Not with one hundred percent surety. Not enough to satisfy his brain, which continued reeling. Dear God, had Jimmy really brought him and Ellie together with the aid of a threesome?? How on earth would they tell their grandkids that story? “I really don’t think this is proof of her undying love,” Evan said, and only realised he hadn’t whispered when Ellie suddenly uncurled behind him, shifting until her legs laid either side of his body and her breasts pressed ever so nicely into his back. Then said, as she nuzzled a kiss into that sensitive place just below his ear— “Who says?” “I think the pair of you are just messing with me,” Evan said, before knowing that he wanted to say it. It didn’t come out half as mulish as it probably should have, however. “I’m not messing, baby. I’ve just been eaten alive by my own horniness, apparently. In fact, I think I’m still horny—the power of insane threesomes, I guess.” Somehow Ellie using the word threesome seemed much less ridiculous than Jimmy throwing it around. When she said it, it sounded thrilling and mature and like something he wanted to be a part of—and especially if doing so meant he got to be with her, again. Which seemed likely, considering the location of her hand.

“You got a little morning wood, bro?” Jimmy said. Evan couldn’t help noticing that he had not yet moved away, despite the touching going on in his groinal area. “Or not so little, in your case.” Weirdly, it wasn’t the morning wood comment that brought out the blushing. No, no—it was the “not so little” that did the trick. Full on face redness, for the dick measuring Jimmy had apparently done. Then Ellie said— “Yeah, I think huge and awesome would be much more appropriate.” And tomatoes paled, at the redness his face achieved. He could feel it burning right to the ends of his hair. He could feel it burning in his fingernails. And all the while his cock grew stiffer and stiffer beneath her teasing strokes, despite the fact that last night should have ended the notion of being turned on, forever. He wasn’t sure he’d ever come three times in such a short space of time, and the last one had almost hurt. But nothing hurt now, and Jimmy was looking at the pair of them with that same look in his eyes—a look that really had nothing to do with matchmaking. And probably everything to do with fucking him. Him. Not Ellie. Or maybe Ellie, but even so it was fairly obvious that somewhere around the middle of their friendship, Jimmy had stopped thinking about being buds and started thinking about his cock. There was a brief moment of being outside himself and totally weirded out, that sudden awareness of their friendship and it’s never-going-to-be-the-sameness lurching in, briefly— shortly before Ellie rubbed her thumb over the underside of his prick in fine, firm fashion, and he forgot everything but his own name. So Jimmy was likely gay and had a big man-crush on him. So what? Her hand felt too good to pass up, and so did Jimmy saying, how does he feel? His voice had dropped an entire octave, and his face no longer held that cheeky morning brightness. It looked hungry, instead. And Ellie felt hungry. And if this was the only way he was going to get it, who was he to say no? “Really hard,” she said, before capturing his left earlobe between her very wet feeling lips. It made him tremble more than the hand on his cock did—all that slipperiness and her faintly teasing voice and the place this was moving towards. More high fiving with Jimmy, probably. “You’re such a horndog, man, seriously,” Jimmy said, and the appalling thing was— talk like the above definitely aided and abetted the situation. It could no longer be denied. The more Jimmy went on in that vaguely insulting, borderline intrusive manner, the stiffer he got.

And probably always had, if he thought about it honestly. There was just something compelling about it—being touched in front of another person, being watched, being kind of…told off. It made all of his insides sink down to his groin, and he suspected it did almost the same thing for Ellie. Which was likely the real reason for her sudden desire to get busy—some secret need to see a guy all flustered and embarrassed and too horny. There was simply no way around the fact that he was all three, and she was rubbing herself against his back. Whispering in his ear that she wanted him to have her, right now, right here. The words made him moan almost as deeply as Jimmy telling him to go on and give it to her. Go on and fuck her, he said, as though some part of Evan needed permission or some other crazy thing like that—though the truth was, it sure felt nice with it. With just that little edging feeling of someone telling him or letting him, but dear God why did this realisation have to come now? Ellie was going to think he liked weird, perverted things. She was going to— Lead him across the living room and into the dark, warm confines of his bedroom. Removing items of his clothing, as she went. Proving him wrong, on all counts. By the time they got to the bed, he appeared to be completely naked. Really just buck naked, with everything out so Ellie could run her hands all over it and Jimmy could look at it all with those new greedy eyes and oh, oh, Ellie was taking her clothes off, too. She’d removed the top before he’d even gotten past the whole sense of unease and vague humiliation and complicated arousal, and after that everything just filled right up with Ellie. The way she looked a little self-conscious, in a cute awkward sort of manner. The way she guided him over the bed with almost-not-touching-him hands, so careful and…well…loving. And her breasts. Her perfect, round, tilting up to be kissed breasts. She went for his mouth, and he went for them—and couldn’t be ashamed about that fact. They were just too tempting and soft and delicious, and her giggle suggested she knew it. Jimmy’s dude suggested he knew it, too. As did Jimmy’s hand, on those lovely curves. It was difficult to feel jealousy over another man touching the object of his lust, when he had his head buried in her breasts. But somehow it flashed through him anyway, and it didn’t get any better when Jimmy said— “Baby, you are sweet.” It made him want to check for her expression—welcoming? Disgusted? Rolly-eyed? But when he looked up from the wet stripe he’d laid along the upward curve of her left breast, she just seemed…weighed down with arousal. She was rocking her hips, too. He could feel it, almost butting her still covered pussy into his erection. And when Jimmy suggested that he lick her left nipple while he pinched and toyed with her right, she only rocked harder. Turned frustrated and anxious, tugging at

him to come closer. And though she didn’t tug Jimmy closer, at the same time she didn’t shrug him off, either. He supposed it got pretty hard to shrug someone off, when they had just licked two fingers and applied them to your stiff nipple. Something which became a tried and tested fact, when Jimmy decided to do the same thing to him. He actually licked his fingers—this time on the left hand—and just slid them underneath Evan’s body until he encountered something hard and probably too sensitive for a man. Touching his nipple definitely shouldn’t make him jump. And yet it did, it did, and Ellie stirred beneath him restlessly, when his mouth lost all contact with her body. The sensation overload was forcing him to let her down, to be an inconsiderate lover, and yet he couldn’t stop it. It just felt too intense, when Jimmy twisted his fingers, meanly. And even more so when Ellie’s hand joined Jimmy’s on his body, wandering and occasionally pinching—much to Jimmy’s approval. “I think our boy likes it a little rough,” Jimmy said, which didn’t go down well with Evan’s brain. Fortunately, his brain was currently taking an extended vacation, so loins won the day. Loins operated his mouth— “Yeah, you can, you can.” He wasn’t even sure what yeah, you can, you can meant, but it sure felt good coming out of him. As did Ellie’s hand suddenly all over his ass, squeezing just this side of too hard. “Just tell me what you want,” she said, so breathless and urgent. “Just tell me— anything, okay, anything.” But then she scratched over the arch of his back with a row of nails, and he forgot all of the things he’d ever wanted to ask for, in bed. Fleeting glimpses of past jerk-off fantasies flashed behind his eyes—Ellie catching him, pinning him down, riding him as punishment; Ellie joining in their dirty little masturbation sessions—but none of them really got close to this— Jimmy telling her to touch him, you know, there. His first instinct was to jerk away. Just because Jimmy maybe liked things like that, didn’t mean he did. But then his brain managed to chime in with, sex things don’t make you gay. Being gay makes you gay. And that sort of calmed things down a little. As did Ellie touching him and touching him in that totally weird way—just one finger, sliding between his definitely-trying-to-clench ass cheeks. She had to really stretch around his body to do it, but once she’d flipped him onto his back—yeah, it got easier, then. And she rubbed the pad of that finger up, up, too—right over that strip of velvet skin between his balls and his ass, until it felt so good he could have squeezed it like a living thing. He felt pretty sure that his mouth blurted out words such as— I like it when you touch me there.

But his mouth returned to silence, when she went back to rubbing over his arsehole. Because it was weird and it made him shiver, and the shivering only got worse when Jimmy passed her the mammoth bottle of obvious jerk-off material he had at the side of his bed— hideously, embarrassingly—and told her to use it. Told her to use it, while she went down on him. And he said it so matter of factly, too! He had a big boner—Evan could see it, out of the corner of the eyes he tried to keep closed. But his voice remained on the level, very firm and controlling, and it almost terrified. Until Ellie said— “You want me to suck your cock while I finger your ass, baby?” Then it just became awesome again. “Of course he wants it, all guys want it—they just don’t know it. But wait, buddy, seriously. You’re gonna love this,” Jimmy said, and a lick of hoarseness emerged, somewhere deep down in his voice. Like maybe the idea was starting to take hold of him, or Ellie’s words were doing it for him, or who the fuck knew? All he understood for sure was Ellie’s mouth suddenly slick and hot on the head of his cock, and one slippery finger working over something he’d barely touched with his own two hands. Of course, he’d thought about it. He’d told Jimmy that he’d fantasised about Ellie doing it, after Jimmy said that being touched there was the most amazing thing. And once or twice his hand had wandered, in the middle of an intense jerk-off session. But nothing in his vague imaginings came close to the feeling of being sucked, and sucked, while someone circled that place. “Good, right?” Jimmy said, now definitely hoarse and more than a little flushed all over his no-longer-grinning face. He was watching intently, Evan noted, and that just made the whole thing even more exciting. His cock jerked in Ellie’s mouth and she made a little sound—almost a protest—but luckily Jimmy was there to help her out. Jimmy was there to tug her briefly away from Evan’s swollen prick, to kiss his own. That hot flash of jealousy went through Evan, again—strangely more for Jimmy’s hand in her hair, than for her mouth on his cock—but it had an unfortunate side effect. An unfortunate and admittedly thrilling side effect. His mind tensed and his body forgot to, and Ellie’s finger slid suddenly and shockingly all the way in, to the hilt.

He couldn’t even find the wherewithal to be pleased, that it made her pull off Jimmy’s dick. She gasped, and the gasp thrilled straight to his core, and she wriggled her finger, and that also thrilled straight to his core, and after that she whispered something like oh fuck, I can’t believe I’m doing this. At which point, he felt sure he was about to come. The sensation just came on so strong. Overwhelming, all the way through his gut and through his thighs and in that tightening feeling in his balls—orgasm alert! Good sense managed to make him tell her to slow down, just wait, wait, but that only made Jimmy laugh and say, man, he’s gonna spurt! Which was both mortifying and even worse—arousing. It gave a little kickback to the impending orgasm feeling. The one that intensified, when Ellie asked, breathless and far kinder than Jimmy—are you, baby? I want you to come in my mouth, okay? Come in my mouth. Right before she twisted those fingers inside him, and sparks went off behind his eyes. He managed to hold onto it long enough to see her little O of surprise, and flash of pleasure in her expression, when she succeeded. And to hear Jimmy say— “Can you feel it? That little bump? Yeah—stroke it. Stroke it nice and firm.” He almost wanted to tell her not to—a passing glance over what was surely his prostate had been more than enough. Almost too much, in fact—kind of like being shoved, down there. A heavy pressure that he wasn’t sure he liked. Until she did as Jimmy shakily suggested. Then noise came out of him, and he felt his entire body arch up off the bed. For second, it was so intense that afterwards he had to check all over his belly, just to make sure he hadn’t come. While Jimmy laughed, and Ellie giggled. It didn’t feel cruel, however. If anything Ellie seemed filled with warmth towards him in a way he’d never seen from her before, and though Jimmy did most of the talking, her eyes never left him. Her touch never left him, either. She had that finger rubbing and rubbing inside him and her other hand on the base of his cock, as she watched for his every response. She watched, and said, come for me, then. Come for me. And when she stroked his cock suddenly—once, twice—he did. Everything surged and it twisted through him almost painfully, whiting out all sense, as it did. So much so that he hardly felt Jimmy taking his hand, to wrap it around his prick. He hardly heard him say words that sounded like please and I want you too much. He only did what felt good, and right, because dear God he loved Ellie. He loved her in that way, the passionate, head over heels sort of way that allowed him to do everything he never knew he wanted. But he loved his friend, too. He loved his friend, and always would.

Chapter Five It was on the third morning of shenanigans, that Ellie rolled out of their den of lust to find Jimmy fully dressed. Of course, that didn’t seem so unusual. The bank holiday meant no work, but he could have easily been about to go out and get a lifetime’s supply of condoms, or the Big Bible of Complicated Threesomes, or something. He could have been, if it wasn’t for the bag. That pulled her up short and entirely out of fun and games. Somehow she’s imagined—and feared-feared-feared, in the twilight hours—that it’d be Evan who went into meltdown. Evan, who had stayed up last night and whispered that the last two days had been the best of his life. Even with all the up the butt action and the confused feelings and his obvious streak of jealousy, whenever Jimmy laid a hand on her. And now, here was Jimmy, obviously about to go off somewhere and not for five minutes. He put a finger to his lips, and somehow that seemed even worse than all the rest of it. He didn’t want to wake Evan—the best bud he was probably in love with, or something. Not even probably, because Evan had also whispered to her the night before that he was worried, very worried. Mainly that Jimmy had love feelings for him, and though he loved him back a whole lot, it just wasn’t in that way. Enough to give a friendly hand job way. Enough to have a bit of fun. But not the same way he felt about her. Then he had blushed and gotten all awkward, as though realising he’d revealed too much about the other thing. The one that made her scared and thrilled, all at the same time— did he love her? It kind of felt like maybe he did, in spite of insane threesomes. In fact, insane threesomes seemed to have only solidified whatever it was he felt. And she couldn’t say that she felt any different. Which made all of this a huge mess. “Where are you going?” It sounded dumb coming out, but what else could be said? Any fool could have seen that she loved Evan, and Evan probably really, really liked her…but where did that leave Jimmy? “Thought I’d leave you guys alone, for a while.” It made her even more uncomfortable, that he didn’t sound the least bit unhappy. “Why? Jimmy, you don’t have to go—I know this has been a little full on, but you don’t have to.” The discomfort slipped, somewhat, under pressure of his laughter. “I know that, baby doll! Come on—what did you think? That I don’t want to be best

buds, anymore? I’m just gonna leave you guys alone for a little while, ‘cause…well. Do I really have to spell it out for you? He’s like a fucking puppy dog for you. He’s like Heathcliff, on a hill. You know that, right?” “Well…maybe he…maybe he likes you, too. Maybe he likes you more than me! I mean, I don’t know whether you’re gay or bisexual or what the fuck but I don’t know if he is, either, so—” “Ellie, come on, man. You guys are nuts for each other. I’m just…using that to madvantage.” He leant in, and gave her the old dirty eyebrow. She felt she might possibly adore him forever, just for that. “You know—like always.” She sighed, and shook her head. “Yeah, I know you, bro.” “So—we’re cool, right? We all had a little fun, and now I’m going to gracefully exit and leave you two to do lots of lurve making or some other such bullshit, while I trash your apartment. Sound good?” The entire conversation consisted of head shaking. And maybe some awe, at his total chutzpah. “Just don’t touch my books, okay?” she said, and he made the Scout’s honour sign. Just to add that extra touch of adorableness. “And work out your feelings while you’re gone, so we can all be non-weird friends, when you return.” He gave her a crooked smile, and she gave him one back, and further laughter almost almost came about, until he threw his arms around her, suddenly. Then she had to squeeze him tight, to stop any tears leaking out. Especially when his voice came out all hoarse, and not like him at all. “You take things too seriously, you know, El.” “I take things like my best friend’s feelings seriously, yeah,” she replied, but after an extra second of tight squeezing, he was all himself again. Shrugging it off, grinning like a lunatic, calling her a worrying Wendy. Then he was gone.

**** She couldn’t think how best to couch it. Jimmy’s gone—probably because he realised he really likes you, and doesn’t know how to deal with it? Jimmy’s gone, because he was totally taking advantage of our horniness, to get into contact with your sweet, sweet ass?

Neither seemed the right side of soothing, or close enough to the truth. And a combination of both things just seemed simultaneously too perverted and too heartbreaking. So she sat on the couch and mindlessly watched soap operas, waiting for Evan to stumble out of bed. Evan, who’d she done that to. Evan, who apparently made her crazy just by looking at her with those lust-fogged, I’ll-do-anything-you-want-me-to eyes. They were just sleepy, when he emerged from the bedroom. And his hair was sticking up at all angles. And he looked as adorable as always, so much so that it took a lot not to tell him to get back in there. Luckily, he was on hand to help. “Where’s Jimmy?” he said, and she had weird flashes of telling little kids that their dog had gone to live on a farm. That sure put a dampener on things. “He felt that…he should go and stay at my apartment, for a while.” And it was weird, but she really hadn’t expected his face to fall so fast. It practically went through the floor and his body language shifted with it. Evan had never been very good at hiding his feelings—the whole amazing love thing aside—but this was pretty extreme even by his standards. She resisted the urge to get up and hug him, and tell him they were all still friends. It might look like the opposite, if she insisted too hard. Plus, there was the whole I think I might be in love with you thing she wanted to get out. Calling all of them best buds forever might not be the best way to go about sharing true feelings. “He hasn’t gone for long. He just—” “No—it’s okay. I get it.” The monotone his voice usually existed in intensified—to the point where it made her heart drop. Other people got high voiced or shouty or up and down when they were upset. Evan hit on one note and stuck with it, hard. She couldn’t help but think that perhaps he was going to miss Jimmy a lot more than she had assumed. Like, a lot more. That kind of a lot more. After all, he had stroked him off and when they’d all been sleeping together after stuffing their faces with Chinese food, he’d drifted off with his arm around Jimmy’s waist. Maybe she’d misread the whole situation, and really— “You and Jimmy want to be alone. That’s cool. I mean—he’s a great guy. You should probably be with him,” he said. She damned Evan, and his terrifyingly long pauses. It was the fault of the long pause and all it had a let her imagine, that made her jump up as soon as he’d finished talking. “Oh you idiot! No no no—God. Trust you to get it all wrong!”

He looked startled by the sudden shouting. “Not that I’ve got any room to talk—I got it all wrong, too. Probably several times.” “Oh no but I—” “Evan, stop. Stop. Whoa. He’s not gone to my apartment so that I can go there too and have some kind of love rendezvous. Okay?” His face scrunched up at the words love rendezvous. Relief seemed to be a long time coming to him, however, so she plunged ahead into whatever this was going to be. “He’s gone so that…well. So that we can be alone. I think he kind of brought us together through the medium of threesomes—that is, if you want to be together.” Medium of threesomes definitely sounded like something Jimmy would do. And it was almost true. It was true enough. And whatever it was—it made Evan’s face light up like a pinball machine. It made her feel an answering warmth like nothing else. “You want to be with me? Just me?” he asked. “Of course I want to be with you! And not to knock the awesome ménage thing we had going on this weekend, but yeah. I do just want you, really. I think I always have. I definitely wish you’d told me earlier about the whole doing stuff with my underwear thing.” At which he covered his face with one hand. It couldn’t disguise the smile behind it, however. “Oh,” he said. “The underwear.” In that way he had. That way of being all adorably embarrassed while kind of laughing at himself. It made her think of all the other things she knew about him, all the other reactions that seemed so perfectly familiar. It made saying things easy. “I love you, you know.” When he peeped out from between two fingers, and asked— “Seriously?” It just seemed like the sweetest thing in the world. Everything was more than easy, with him. “Seriously.”

He dropped the hand from his face. “God, you don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to say that to you. And it’s been the best, but I’ve been worried all weekend that you would think…that you would…I don’t know. That I wasn’t real about you. That I didn’t…mean stuff.” She stopped his breathless rambling with arms around his middle. Her face tilted up to his, ready to be kissed. “You seem pretty real to me, now,” she said as he leant in, slow, slow. Then finally, his mouth on hers and words murmured close enough to taste. “I love you too, Ellie. I really love you too.”

THE END

About the Author Charlotte Stein has been published in numerous erotic and erotic romance anthologies, and has written her own longer length works for both Black Lace books and Total-E-Bound. She has been writing for more than half her life, but only recently worked up the courage to submit something to actual publishers. Thankfully, the story ended well. Email: [email protected] Charlotte loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Charlotte Stein Waiting in Vain Sultry Solstice: Tigerlily Desire Through Time: Past Pleasures