Menage

I began to think more seriously about opening a second shop. Marianne, who did our books, said I couldn't afford to tie up our capital, but I didn't see the good in letting it stagnate. Our financial position was sound. We weren't in debt. Interest rates were low. It seemed to me that now was an ideal time to expand.

 

Of course, feeling neglected by my lovers probably was a lousy reason to do so. The problem was I'd become spoilt. I'd lost my knack for entertaining myself, by myself. Rather than recultivate my self-sufficiency, I moped.

 

Sean and Joe may have been busy, but not too busy to notice my gloom. They spoke to me in kinder, gentler tones. They made me breakfast and let me read the paper first. Eventually, shame for my behaviour jarred me from my sulks.

 

'I'm going to enjoy whatever time I have left,' I announced one night as we all lay in bed.

 

Snow fell outside the dormer window, like feather pillows bursting beneath the street lamps. In the pearly glow, my lovers struggled from their half-slumber to blink at me.

 

'What are you talking about?' Sean asked, his hair mashed to his head by the pillow. 'You contracted a fatal disease or something?'

 

That's when I realised only I could read the writing on the wall. Only I knew our days together were numbered.

 

Joe slung his arm across my belly. 'Don't worry, Kate. We'll have more time for love-making once these rehearsals are over.'

 

'I could use some more action myself,' Sean grumbled. He squirmed closer. He liked sleeping in the nude. His smoothly muscled chest warmed my side and, when he hitched one hairy leg over mine, his cock and balls warmed my hip. Voicing his complaint seemed to have broken his inertia. His penis twitched, slowly but surely assuming its full girth and vigour.

 

'Man, oh, man.' He insinuated his erection beneath the hem of my T-shirt so he could rub it skin-to-skin. 'How tired are you, Kate?'

 

I grinned. 'Not that tired.'

 

'Hey, Joe, toss me a condom,' he said, but Joe was snoring and I had to dig the prophylactic out myself.

 

That taken care of, Sean pushed me on to my side and entered me from behind. His cock slid into my sheath as if it were buttered, ecstasy after days of doing without. I arched back for more. When he gave it to me, I heaved a grateful sigh.

 

'Me, too,’ he said.

 

He slipped his arm around my front to caress my sex, then gripped the headboard for leverage. Soon his hips buffeted my backside. Every thrust pushed his warmth deeper, filling me with rich, animal sensation. I reached behind me to hold his flank. His breath rushed beside my ear, catching each time he struck home. I loved the simplicity of this act, the directness, the way his withdrawals grew shorter as his climax approached - as if he couldn't bear to leave his snug, warm mooring. Neither of us took long to come, but I still couldn't believe Joe slept through the whole thing.

 

'I'm still hard,' Sean griped, pulling reluctantly out.

 

'Pull the other leg, why don't you?' I pushed him on to his back and straddled him - and saw he wasn't kidding. He'd come long and hard, but his cock jutted upward along my belly, nearly as thick as when we'd started. I stripped off my T-shirt and used it to blot the remains of our exertions. When I threw it aside, his hands went straight for my breasts. He kneaded their soft weight with a gentleness I found as relaxing as it was arousing. Happy as a cat, I rolled my head luxuriously around my shoulders.

 

'One more as a nightcap?' I suggested, stroking his arms.

 

He grimaced. 'Why not two?'

 

'Greedy.'

 

'But I'm up now, and ol' Willy here hasn't got lucky in days.'

 

'Try a week, mister.'

 

He wagged his head at the horror of it. 'The working world sucks.'

 

'What if -' I bent to lick the rim of his ear '-1 suck you instead?'

 

His shoulders hunched at the tickling caress. 'Later. When I need inspiration.'

 

'You find my humble skills inspiring?'

 

'Babe.' He chucked me under the chin. 'Your mouth is one of the seven wonders of the world.'

 

I was still preening over the compliment when he lifted me on to him.

 

Joe woke sometime during our third bout, probably when Sean pulled me out of bed and started rogering me over the squeaky footboard.

 

Joe rubbed sleepy eyes, then burrowed one arm beneath the covers. I followed its progress down his chest and between his legs. The sheets rustled. His left leg fell to the side. The hump that was his hand began an unmistakable pumping motion.

 

Sean laughed in my ear. 'He must be half-asleep. He never jacks off in front of people.' He reached for the rumpled chenille coverlet.

 

'Don't wake him,’1 whispered. ‘I want to watch.'

 

But such passivity was foreign to Sean's nature.

 

'Yo, Sleeping Beauty.' He lofted the covers. 'Wake up and join us.'

 

Joe screwed his eyes more tightly shut. His hand faltered, then resumed its steady masturbatory rhythm. I guess he wanted that release no matter who was watching.

 

'Too tired to get up,’ he mumbled. 'Besides, it's cold out there.'

 

Not one to take 'no' for an answer, Sean reached around me, grabbed Joe's ankles and pulled him bodily to the foot of the bed.