Sunday, March 22, 2015

my two partners (part six).

Meaghan


                              
Scott passes me the soap, as I watch the shower’s warm water glance off his sharp shoulder.  I lather the bar in my hand, handing it back, as I pass suds over my arms, underarms and breasts.
“Let me do that for you,” he jokes, reaching across me to indulge in one of his favourite past times.  “Your boobs need a good wash, don’t they?”    
“Not really,” I counter, though smiling.  I give myself over to his touch momentarily, feeling his large hands slide over my breasts.
“I think they do,” he says, massaging more vigorously.  He tests my patience by tweaking a nipple.  I turn away.
“Scott!”
“I know.  Just let me clean this nipple.”
“That’s not...”
“Why are these so hard?”
“Because you’re playing with them,” I laugh.
“Mmm.  What nice tits, baby.”  I reciprocate the moan, letting myself really feel his soapy hands on me.  Even through the water, I can feel myself getting wet.
“This is supposed to be a quick shower,” I say, stretching up to kiss him.  We have a nice warm, wet kiss, then embrace under the shower head.  I rest my head on his shoulder, as we sway a few times under the spray.                                                     
“Emily and I are hanging out again tonight.”
“Oh?”
“Yep, just grabbing lunch again, I think.”
“Okay,” I say, resuming washing myself.  So soon.  It’s only been a couple days.  Well, that’s good.  She’s clearly interested.  Then, a thought strikes me.  “She knows you’re seeing someone, right?”
“Of course.  It’s, like, one of the first things I ever said to her.”
“Okay,”  I smile, relieved.  
“Of course, babe,”  He reiterates, kissing me again.


At work, I’m on her Facebook page on my phone.  “It doesn’t say she’s in a relationship.”
“Who?”  Anthony replies from behind the bar.
“Emily.  Do you listen to me when I talk?”
“Well, considering most of what you say is complete nonsense...”
“Of course, she could take in a relationship to mean a monogamous relationship.  Which I know she isn’t.  Apparently, has a girlfriend and a boyfriend right now.”
“Right.”
“Do you want to see a picture?”  I ask, showing him before he answers.
“Is that a costume?”
“Obviously.”
“Isn’t there a better picture?”
“Not really.  We’re not technically friends yet, so I don’t have full access.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I think she’s super cute.”
“From what you can see.”
“Yeah.”  He serves a customer a draught beer, then turns back to me.  I continue.  “You know, I was looking at some poly forums...”
“Poly?”
“Polygamous.”
“Good grief.”
“And, they’re advocating against a one dick policy in open relationships.  A lot of couples that try open relationships, only have female partners.  Like, the girlfriend only gets to sleep with other women, but not men.  And, of course, the boyfriend isn’t into guys, so he obviously still gets to do whatever he wants.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Exactly!  They’re saying not only is it not fair, but that it also places a stigma on lesbian sex.  That it isn’t as important as straight sex.”
“So, you want to sleep with other guys as well?”
“What?  No.”
“So...”
“I’m just saying.  I agree with that.”
“You’re nuts.”
“You agree, too.  You just said.”
“As a general rule, I never agree with anything you say,” he says, smirking.
“Apparently, poly people hate couples looking for thirds, too.”
“Why?”
“Well, they say that though it is definitely is non-monogamy, it isn’t totally polygamous either.”
“Who cares?  
“Well, real poly people do.  I guess it bothers them when couples that have the occasional threesome call themselves polyamourous.”
“Well, the labels are dumb, anyway.  There’s so many, nobody even knows what they mean.”
“Well, people are trying to find other people that do what they do.  Like, on OkCupid you can say that you’re a polyamourous person looking for a secondary relationship.  Meaning that they have a main relationship already, but are looking for another, more casual one.  I’ve even seen people that aren’t interested in a main relationship of any kind, but function best as a second or tertiary partner.”
“Right.  And you’re the expert.”
“No!  Not at all.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Oh.”
“You have a table.”  I turn around to two patrons waving me over.
“Shit.  Thanks.”


“So?  How was it??”  I grill Scott when he gets home.
“Good.  We got lunch, and then came back here for a bit.”
“She came over?  Here?”  I’ve never had anyone over to the apartment.  To me, that’s a huge step.  For Scott, it’s no big deal, but some of my closest friends have never even been over to our apartment.  Hanging out eludes me, I think.  I tend to never see a friend unless we’re doing an activity.  Going to see a show, taking a class, celebrating a birthday at a bar or something.  I’ve always been jealous of the easy way Scott develops friendships.  I hope the apartment was clean.
“Yeah, we caught lunch just down the street, so...”
“So, what... did you guys do?”  
“We watched some TV.  She’s definitely interested in a threesome.”
“Why, you talked about it?”  Another thing.  He talks about sex so easily, with almost anyone.  Complete strangers.  His friends that are girls.  The only person I ever talk to about stuff like that is Anthony.  I love sex.  Why don’t I get to talk about it with people?
“Yeah.  I showed her pictures of you.”
“What pictures?”
“Just the ones on the walls.”
“Oh.”
“She definitely thinks you’re hot.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, babe.  Obviously.”  I smile at that.  

I take a shower, washing away the smell of french fries from my hair, and I go to bed thinking about it.  Scott is soon sleeping soundlessly beside me, but I can’t turn off my brain.  I picture a woman’s soft skin, her petite mouth, her breasts, hips, shaven legs, manicured pussy.  But, most of all, I think about taking her out.  Anywhere.  Maybe I can bring her to my work.  Introduce her to Anthony.





Scott  


Meaghan leaves for work, and I’m still at half mast from touching her perfect tits in the shower.  I plant myself in front of my computer, and peruse the porn vids.  I look through the two girl threesomes for a change.  Not my usual pick, but it seems appropriate, considering our circumstances.
Two girls with huge, fake tits appear before me, and I grip onto my thickening cock.  Meaghan’s tits are perfect, don’t get me wrong, but I love jerking off to girls with enormous fake breasts.  It’s a fetish thing only, though.  I’m sure I wouldn’t want that in person, if I had the opportunity.  Some things are better as fantasies.  I blow my load not to what I actually see in the video, but what I want them to do.  
I waddle over to the bathroom, cupping the come against my stomach as I do so.  I wipe it up with toilet paper as best I can, and hop back in the shower for a quick rinse.  I get dressed, and walk to meet Emily for the second time.


I’m there a little late from the impromptu jerk off, but so is Emily.  Nowhere to be seen.  I take a seat as before, and recognize the potential pattern.  Soon enough, she shows.  She’s cute, so I bet she gets away with a lot.
“Hey!”  She says, embracing me this time.
“Hey, Em.  How are ya?”
“Great!”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, my show is really coming together.”  Her show.  Almost forgot.  I’ve got to put it in my calendar.
“Oh, awesome.”
“Yeah.  I’ve got everyone booked, so now I’m getting my friend to design a poster, then I’ll start promoting.”
“Great.  What’s the show called, again?”  I ask, as I put it in my phone.
“The Garage Series.”
“Cool... do you mind me asking why?”
“It takes place in my garage.”  Did I hear that correctly?
“Like, at your house?”
“My parent’s house, yeah.”  Oh my god.
“Wow.  Okay.”
“Yeah, it’s going to be awesome!”
“Mm hm... Do you have the proper set up?”
“Oh yeah!  Renting equipment.  I have to do that, still.”  It’s a disaster.  I totally have to co-produce this.   
“I can bring.  I have patches... I’ll bring one amp, small mixer and one speaker?  Two mics, probably.  Are you using your kit?”
“Yes.  That’s the one thing I do have.”  
“Okay.  Okay!  Cool.”  I feel a little better.  We’ll talk more details later.  We'll need to hang curtains and sound proofing, lay down lots of carpet to absorb the sound.  As long as it isn’t too small.  And people actually come.
“So, how are you and Meaghan doing?”
“Oh, great.  We’re always great, though.  I told her about you.”
“Haha.  What did you tell?”
“That you were her type.”
“Oh?”  She says, suddenly interested.  I chuckle.
“She likes a bit of androgyny.  Tomboy girls with short hair.”
“Hm.  I still have to see a picture of her.”
“Long blonde hair, pretty, great body.  We live right down the street, if you want to hang out after.”
“She’ll be there?”
“No.  But, I have some things I could show you.”
“Okay.  Cool!”

We finish up, and walk back to mine and Meaghan’s place.  
“Wow!  Nice place!  It’s so clean.”
“Yeah, Meaghan keeps it pretty tidy.”
“Is this her?”  Emily asks, looking at an old framed theatre poster of Meaghan’s.  She was the lead in that play.  Blew everyone away.
“Yep.  This is her, too.  And, here.”
“I didn’t know she performed.”
“Yeah, it’s nice.  We both understand the lifestyle, though we’re not doing to exact same thing.  We can support each other in our different interests.  I think I’d go crazy being with another musician.”
“Right,” she answers, submerged in the pictures.  I have the urge to backtrack, but I don’t think she really heard the remark, or if she did, didn’t associate it with herself.  “This one’s incredible,” she says, looking at Meaghan in a scant, sexy costume.
“I agree.  Had to keep my hand over my crotch, for that one.”
“Haha.  I bet.”
“Is the girl you’re seeing super good looking?”
“Well, we’re not really seeing each other anymore.  She was cute.  But, it didn’t work out.”  
“Why?”
“Um... she wanted something more, I think.  I just wanted to keep it casual.”
“You have a boyfriend, though?”
“No!  No.  I’m not interested in that.  I was dating a guy for a couple years.  Like, just him.  But, it wasn’t the healthiest.  Probably.”
“Oh, okay.  I getcha.”
“Yeah, like, I see a couple people here and there, but nothing serious.”
“Mm hm.  Meaghan and I aren’t looking for anything serious, either.  Other than each other, obviously,” I add, smiling, trying to lighten the mood.  “Want to watch a show or something?”
“Sure!”
I wonder if she’ll try to snuggle up on me, but she doesn’t.  We keep chatting like friends, throughout the show.  I might be more attracted to some of my girl friends.  I sense interest from her when we talk about sex, or Meaghan, which is nice.  She makes a lot of eye contact.  When I mention it, she says that people have told her that before.
“Do you want to have a staring contest?”
“Uh... sure.  I’ll win, though.”  I recover, after a brief hiccup at the mention of a child’s game.       
“Okay.  Rules are: you can blink, but you can’t smile.  And, you have to maintain eye contact no matter what.”
“Got it.  You can talk, though.”
“Yes.  You can say anything to try and make the other person lose concentration.  First person to look away or laugh, loses.”
“Okay.  Ready?”  She nods.  “Go.”
“Do you know that a whale’s penis can be up to ten feet long, with 12 inches in girth.”
“That’s not very thick,” I reply, stone faced.  Her eyes are small, one might describe as beady, with colour almost as dark as her pupils, like a cat’s eye.  She blinks.  “Although everyone knows that ratio is ideal for female pleasure.  Mine is twenty inches long, and as thin as a pencil.”
“Really?  Interesting.”  She answers, solemnly.  Having just eaten lunch, I easily produce a loud fart.  She doesn’t budge, but I almost lose it.  “That almost backfired on you, didn’t it?”
“No way.  I’m good.”
“Are you sure?  I think I can see your face crack.”
“Nope, not even close.”    
“I want to fuck you and your girlfriend.”  My mouth drops, shocked, and I can’t help but laugh.  
“Okay!  Okay!”
“I win!  You farting was super funny, though.”  I get a case of the giggles, still laughing at it.  

We laugh and laugh.


Thursday, March 19, 2015

my two partners (part five).

Emily 


Luckily, the tank is still pretty full.  I get out, and climb the stairs to mine and Kyle’s apartment.  “Hey,” he greets me.
“Hey!”  I answer excitedly, taking off my jacket.  His boyfriend Luke comes into view, and my face momentarily drops.  But, I politely recover, greeting him as well.  I like Luke, don’t get me wrong; I was just hoping for a one-on-one hangout with my brother.  Perhaps, to talk about my lunch with Scott.  We chitchat for a while, then I retreat to my bedroom.  I have to plan my night.
I take out two free weekly newspapers, and scan the events sections.  The band name “Folly” jumps out at me, and I suddenly remember that Johnny invited me to the show tonight.  Not that I would go to see him, in particular, but my mind does wander to Jeremy.  Done.  The Cave at nine o’clock.  I haven’t heard of the headliner, but all the reason to go check it out.  Meet new people, be exposed to new music.  It’s a crap venue, but it’s important to see those, too, to brainstorm about what can be done better, to improve shows.  I consider the time I’m still living with my parents an opportunity to take advantage of completely immersing myself in the scene.  I see a show almost every night.  I want to know everyone, I want everyone to know me.  If only I got paid for doing it.

I enter the dive known as “The Cave”, a dark, basement venue with coloured lights forever hung from its ceiling.  I have to squint to make out faces, the room being lit almost solely from candlelight.  Eventually, my eyes adjust, and I make out the figures of Johnny and Jeremy.  Johnny sees me too, and rushes over, giving me a longer than usual hug.  It’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but I’m just eager to see the bands.  He has to get ready for his set, anyway, so I make my way up to the front of the stage.  
Before I have a chance to get there, I hear the house music lower, watch the lights suddenly dim, make out the silhouettes climbing through the darkness.  The familiar surge of excitement runs up my back, giving me goosebumps.  This is better than any booze, drugs, or sex.  The bass line of one of Folly’s new tracks starts up for a couple bars while the crowd turns silent and attentive, followed by the subtle drum beat, then the rhythm guitar.  The crowd cheers, recognizing the song, and the stage lights suddenly rise, revealing Folly, in all it’s glory.  One day, that will be me.  I’ll be a part of this.  I’ll design the lighting, run the show from the wings, or be one of the rockstars, closing their eyes in grooving concentration.  Or, even better, I’ll be the producer.  I’ll be the brains behind this whole incredible thing, raking in the dough.
Folly plays a short set, as the show started late, and they probably want the headliner on by ten o’clock.  I’m so eager to hear them, I don’t dare leave my spot at the rim of the stage.  I look over to see if Johnny’s around, so I can signal to him.  I manage to make eye contact, and give him a thumbs up.  He smiles broadly, and nods.  They really found the pocket in their set; I don’t think I’ve seen them play so well.  I’m glad I got to see Johnny really nail it.
Then, the lights dim again, and my goosebumps come back.  It’s even better, when you don’t know them.  I don’t even know the genre, let alone the members of the band, or their songs.  I always enjoy a show more, if it’s the first time I’m hearing the music.  If I already know the tracks, I’m too concentrated on singing along, or duplicating the riffs in my head.  The only time you get the same feeling I’m talking about when watching a band you’re familiar with, is when they go off from the recorded version slightly, or come up with a totally different live version of a song.  You always notice the newness.  
The front man uniquely starts with a bit of patter, briefly and charismatically talking to the audience about themselves, and the music they’re going to play.  Apparently they’re from out of town, which is why I’ve never heard of them, and why he’s made the decision to open like this.  It’s a good choice, because he’s developing a personal connection with you, right from the beginning.  Even before you’ve heard them, you feel like you know the front man and the band that stands behind him, yet you still have the new experience of the music.  Both of both worlds.  He’s done this before.  And, he’s not so bad on the eyes, either.  
After the encore, I finally make my way to the bar, feeling sweaty, a little dizzy, yet elated.  I chug a glass of water, and Johnny comes up behind me, yelling through the din.  
“Great, aren’t they?”
“So, good,” I agree.
“Thanks for coming!”
“No problem!  Glad I did!”
“What are you doing after?”
“Uh, I might hang around a bit!”
“Ok, cool!”
“Yeah!”  I nod, smiling.  He makes a gesture with his thumb, retreating back to his band, but I’m already looking for that confident, charming front man.  He’s got a good foot on most people, so he’s easy to spot.  I don’t have such an easy time, fighting my way through the mass of patrons to get to him.  He’s engaged in a conversation with some of his band mates, but happily turns to greet me, him being in a foreign space, and all.
“Hi!”  I shout.  He bends down to speak into my ear.
“Hey, there!  How’s it going?”
“Good!  Great set!  I’m a friend of Jer’s!”  I figure I’d say him over Johnny.  Might increase my odds.
“Cool!  Thanks!”
“I’m Emily!”
“Where are my manners?  I’m too used to hanging out with these lumps!  I’m Gregory!”
“Nice to meet you!”  I smell a mixture of his cologne and sweat as he leans into me, his unshaven face almost grazing my ear.  I see now that he’s quite a bit older; his skin looks weathered and tough, perhaps from too much sun.  With that thought, I add, “I’m studying for my PhD in music!”
“You are?  Oh man, you’ve definitely got me in the smarts department, then!”
“I doubt it!  I prefer scenes like this, actually!  Over lecture halls!”
“So, just enjoying some research in the field, are you then?”
“Yeah!  You could say that!”
“Do you want to step in another room?  I feel like there’s a lot you could teach me!  But, we won’t accomplish anything in this noisy hole in the wall!”
“Sure!”  Gregory speaks into his friend’s ear, then turns to me, gesturing for me to follow him.  I smile at the other members of the band as I pass in front of them.  Two smiles back, but one raise his eyebrows, and rolls his eyes.  I try not to let it bother me.  I don’t know why some people judge others so harshly, before even knowing them.
Gregory leads me down the hall, to the small, humid dressing room.  The make up lights are on, casting an attractive glow on the littered cans and beer bottles.  He shuts the door behind us, but my ears continue to ring.  “Much better,” I remark, trying to get my ears to pop.
“Loud, isn’t it?”
“With how many shows I see, I swear I’m going to lose my hearing before I’m thirty!”
“What do you need to hear for?  When you’re a music professor or whatever.  Right?”  He jokes.
“Yeah!  Exactly.  You only live once.”
“You only live once,” he mimics, clinking his beer bottle with my empty water glass.  He takes a swig.  I’m jealous of the liquid.
“So!  Do you want to fool around?”  I ask, shrugging cutely.  He pauses, amused and shocked at my proposition.  When he can find the words, he replies, grinning.
“Yeah.  For sure.”  He leans down to me, kissing me already with an open mouth.  His stubble scratches my face, as he aggressively gives me his tongue, tasting of beer and cigarettes.  I blindly back myself up against the counter, hoping to get on an even plane with him, reaching behind me with a free hand.  I let my jaw relax and take him, his rough movements against my softness.  I shimmy up, so that I’m sitting on the edge on the counter, wrapping my legs around his lean hips.  He presses his pelvis against me, shifting my butt back against the mirror, hands on the counter beside me.  I hear some beer cans hit the floor, and I moan in excited response.
He gropes my tits through my shirt, and I feel my nipples get hard in his hand.  He squeezes them, and my back against the mirror, I take his rough grip without any leeway.  I reach for his package, feeling him over his jeans, and I rub it just as viciously.
“Are you okay not to come for a bit?”
“Yeah.”
“You can handle it?”
“Yeah, baby.”  
“I’ll suck you off, after.”  We kiss again, and I hear his belt jingle as he unbuckles it; I pull my tights down over my hips in anticipation.  He continues to penetrate me with his tongue, I open my mouth widely, seductively, already thinking of the blowjob, as I feel him shimmy his pants down.  I massage myself, preparing, but I’m already sitting in a wet spot.
He leans into me, guiding his cock towards me, and slips in.  We moan in unison; singing into each others’ mouths like that Talking Heads song.  He puts his weight into his hands now, face beside mine, breathing heavily, crashing into me rhythmically.  I moan each time, keeping the beat.  I reach down to my clit, and begin vibrating my hand over it.  He backs up to give me room, kissing me all the way.  I nod for him to keep fucking me, and I feel myself bearing down over his cock.  I furiously massage myself, and suddenly feel myself push and relax at the same time, coming as loudly and expressively as I feel like.  No one could hear us if they wanted to.
I smile, mouth still open and breathing, as he backs off, pulling out.  I see his glistening dick in his hand, and hop off the counter to reciprocate the favour.  He leans against the same counter, and I turn and kneel on the dirty carpet.  I lick my lips, and take his dick into my mouth, which is coated in my own juices.  It allows me to easily slide my mouth over him, even though I am pretty severed dehydrated.  I hear the house music bang muffled through the door, and I coordinate my movements.  I grip the base of his cock tightly, working my fist up and down with my lips.  I freely drool, lubricating my hand and his shaft, as I jerk him with the bass drum.  Most people like consistency, so it almost works like a metronome for my movements.  My steady work pays off, as he convulses, and I feel him shoot, hot and salty, into my mouth.  Not exactly the glass of water I was hoping for, but it does the trick.
“Wow, baby.  What was your name again?”
“Emily,” I reply, standing, wiping the dirt off my knees, and pulling up my tights.  

I want everyone to know my name.       
                                

Saturday, March 7, 2015

my two partners (part four).

Meaghan


“I’m having lunch with Emily, today,” Scott says casually, as I’m going out the door.
“You are?  I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, we were texting last night.”
“Ooo!”  I say, suggestively.  He smiles.  
“I just asked if she wanted to have lunch today, and she said sure.”
“Alright, well have fun!”  I say, enthusiastic though shrugging.   I give him a peck on the cheek.  I’d love to talk more about it, but I’ve got to get to work.  I have a feeling he planned it that way.

All day at the restaurant, I’m googling on my phone.  Threesomes, polyamory, poly-fi triads.
“Did you know that some triads actually have a special bed made?”
“Why?”  My best friend at work, Anthony.  A light skinned black guy, who generally remains secretive about his sexual conquests.  He bartends, and I serve.  Most times it’s just the two of us, and in between lunch and dinner service we can talk about almost anything.  Well, I talk, mostly.  He polishes glassware. 
“So they can all sleep together comfortably.  Like actually sleep.”
“Oh.”  He says, half listening.  “Why are you looking at that, again?”
“Because, I told you!  Scott may have found someone.  Like, for us to date.”
“Oh.  Okay...”
“I’m reading a story about a couple, with kids and everything, who end up sleeping with a female friend of theirs a couple times, just for fun.  Then, they both start to develop feelings for her, and eventually she moved in, and now the three of them are co-parenting the kids.”  He shakes his head, putting down a wine glass on the counter.
“Again, why are reading this?”
“Just for interest.  To understand the lifestyle.”
“But, you haven’t even met this girl yet.”
“No, but... it doesn’t mean I can’t be informed.”
“I thought this was supposed to be a casual thing.”
“It is!”  I say, as casually as I can manage considering my excitement level.
“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes.  He thinks I’m crazy.  Any time I talk about sex, he thinks I’m crazy.          
My phone buzzes.  A text from Scott.  Finished lunch with Emily. Going to take off to my gig now. :)  I quickly type a reply.
Ok.  Did u have fun??
Yep, just chatted and stuff. :)
Great!  Can’t wait to hear all about it. ;) See u tonight? 
Yep :)
“Everything good?”  Anthony asks.
“Hmm?  Yes.  Great.”




Scott


Meaghan shuts the door behind her, leaving for her restaurant job.  

She’s also an actor part time, when she can get the work.  Usually, it’s doing plays for her friend’s theatre company, but that’s still on a volunteer basis, or for an honorarium at best.  Commercial and TV gigs come through her agent, but are becoming less and less frequent.  She’s thinking of dropping her long time agent all together, in favour of becoming a full time player for the theatre company.  It may be less money and more work, but she’s beginning to realize that acting may fit into her life better as a hobby.  More as a creative outlet, and less about trying to make a profession of it.  And her restaurant job is great; she’s been there so long that she has seniority, and can get whatever shifts she wants.  I see no problem with just continuing to work there, and doing theatre on the side.

Emily and I end up meeting downtown, at a cafe.  I’m surprisingly not nervous.  I mean, I want this to work for Meaghan, but I’ve got nothing really invested in it.  Meaghan and I do fantasize about other people in bed, but I don’t know if I have much interest in it, other than in the dirty talk between the two of us.  I take a look around the small, cozy cafe for Emily, before ordering a coffee and taking a seat on one of their mismatched chairs.  I do a bit of administrative work for upcoming gigs on my phone while I wait, and before I know it, she’s ten minutes late.  It only seems like a lot because I was early, so I  settle in and order another coffee.  Soon enough, the door jangles, and it’s her.
“Hey,” she mouths, discreetly waving from across the room.  She grabs herself a mug before coming over.  "Hi!"  She says enthusiastically, when she gets close enough.
"Hey, how's it going?"
"Good!  Good.  You?"
"Yeah.  Good.  Nice place.  I was just doing some work."
"For what?"
"Oh, I'm producing a couple shows coming up.  So, just booking, and whatnot."
"Cool!  I'm going to be putting a show together, too!  For a youth group my friend and I run.  I haven't really done it before, though."
"Good for you."
"Yeah, it's to kind of raise awareness for these music programs, and to try and get funding for them, as well.  I'm going to have some youth musicians from the classes, as well as, like, other acts.  I might preform."
"Right on.  Well, if there's anything I can do..."
"Well... any chance I talk you into preforming?"  Despite my instinct to no longer get involved in less experienced, poorly organized gigs, I think of what Meaghan would want me to say.
"For sure.  Yeah."
"Really? Great!"  Her little face lights up, and I feel good, watching her.  A smile spreads across my mouth.  "That's so awesome."
"Hey, no problem."  I take the opportunity to direct the conversation.  "Meaghan can come.  She would really like to meet you."
"Yes!  Great!  I would like to meet her."
"She's the best.  Also... hot."  Emily laughs at that.
"Do you have a picture?"
"Not on me, no.  Am I... correct in assuming you like women, though?"  She raises her eyebrows slightly, as if another part of her has suddenly been engaged.  Also, she probably likes my boldness.  Girls usually do.
"I do, yes."
"Meaghan does, too.  But, she hasn't been with someone in a long time.  And, hardly at all, really, I think.  Just some experimental college stuff."
"Really," she says, smiling.
"Mm, hm.  I heard you have a girlfriend, though?"
"I wouldn't call her that, no.  I haven't had a monogamous relationship in a while."
"Yeah, Meagan and I have solely been seeing each other for a few years.  But, she would like to start sleeping with women."
"Would you be okay with that?"
"Well, maybe.  I want her to be happy.  We thought we'd start with bringing a third into the bedroom, and see where it goes from there..."
"Hmm.  Hot."  My turn to laugh.  "And, you would like to do that?"
"I like the idea of it, definitely.  But, it would have to be the right person.  I would have to be pretty sure that Meagan wouldn't leave me for her."  
"Yeah.  So, you haven't had a threesome before?"
"No."
"Like, ever?"
"Nope.  None of the girls I've dated have really been into other women.  Not that they would be up for that sort of thing, if they were."
"Right.  Well, it looks like you and Meagan are pretty secure, though.  As a couple."
"Oh, yeah.  For sure.  We're great."
"Yeah.  You both seem really cool."  She drains the last gulp of her coffee, then gestures towards the washroom.  "I'll be right back."  
I take out my phone and pretend to use it, perusing old texts between Meagan and I.  I smile, pretty pleased with myself.  I have an urge to text her, but I don’t want to start a conversation about it, if I’m still out with Emily.
I think it's alright to move on from the topic.  Just plant the seed.  In a minute, I look up, to see Emily rejoin me.

"So, tell me more your show.  Just so I know exactly what I'm getting myself into..."






Emily


I scan the room for the washroom, this already being the fourth coffee I’ve had today.  "I'll be right back."

All that talk about threesomes has gotten me super horny.  When I get into the stall, I have to wipe myself even before I pee.  The rough texture of the toilet tissue on my sensitive folds gives me unexpectedly pleasant sensations throughout my body.  The soft brush of my own forearm over my breast as I remove my purse from my shoulder, cause the nipple to stand at attention.  Even the sight of my own bare thighs, pants around my ankles, gives me reason to pause, and close my eyes.  I have half a mind to jerk off right here, but remember that I have Scott waiting at the table.  I’m pretty adept at getting myself off, even in public, but I’m not that quick.  I open my eyes, noticing that my wetness had started to soak the crotch of my thong, so it's good I got to it now.  I take a square of toilet paper, and try to soak up the moisture.  Surely, I can wait until I get home.  Have some self control, Emily.  Sometimes, my high sex drive is more of a nuisance, than anything else.  I quickly pee, and hurry back out.

“So, tell me more about your show,” he insists, but my mind remains preoccupied.  I tell Scott my impending first time producing, and about a few other projects I have going on, over small sandwiches and salads.  Mostly, I concentrate on his strong jaw as he eats.  He has a very attractive mouth, and I picture him moving it over me.  Sucking my tit as he sucks the flesh of that orange wedge garnish.  His calloused, agile, musician's fingers playing me like a stand up bass guitar.  I picture his dick in my mind’s eye, and when we stand up to leave, I try to catch a glimpse of his bulge through his jeans.  We hug goodbye, though quickly, and just with our shoulders touching.  I smell his skin briefly, or his hair, and want to draw him in longer, hold him tighter and more completely against me, but I force myself to skim right over it.  Get in, and get out.

I drove the car, so I pull around the corner, where it’s less populated.  I slouch down into the driver’s seat, and pull my jeans down over my hips.  I move the waistband of my thong out of the way, as my hand creeps beneath it, inching towards my mound.  I press  the palm of my hand into my pubic bone, relaxing back into the reclined seat as if almost in a stretch, and massaging my mons, pleasurably pressing my hips back into myself.  Not that I need any foreplay.  My hand wanders down through my dense bush, even gripping the hair in my fist and giving it a little pull.  My pussy is drenched again, the moisture having re-accumulated over lunch, as the visions of Scott’s lengthy dick danced in my head.  It’s got to be big, with his confidence level.  So openly able to discuss sex, implying a threesome, to someone he hardly knows.  It almost takes more guts to talk about it beforehand, rather than just jumping in.  My eyes follow someone on the main street, walking by, and glancing my way.  
There isn’t foot room to completely part my legs as I’d like, but my fingers do the rest, moving in between my lubricated folds to find my clit.  But, the sexual tension built up over the last hour isn’t gone yet.  Every part of me is tensed, my hips desperately craning up, my torso curling forward, my eyes suddenly clenched shut.  My one hand moves vigorously over my hard, pronounced clit, as my other struggles to find the room to finger fuck myself at the same time.  Yes!  I slide down into the car seat even more, tilting my pelvis even more into the air, so that my knees now rest on the dashboard.  I glance ahead of me, towards the road, but can barely see over the hood of the car.  Satisfied with my privacy, I give myself the full length of two fingers, while I continue to furious masturbate my clit.  Yes, yes!  I start moving my fingers in and out of me rhythmically, building up a remarkable tension in my pussy, and can feel my moisture begin to coat my hand.  As I speed up, I can hear my juices sloshing, as the strong muscles in my pussy strain open, pushing down, towards my hand.  My other hand works my clit like only I know how.  Then, the sound of my messing masturbating puts me over the edge, as I bear down, muscles all contracting at once, crying out through clenched teeth.
Silence.  I breathe easy.  The muffled sound of a couple cars driving by.  I stretch up from my place low on the seat, glancing just over the dash, to check for spectators.  Free and clear.  I lean over the passenger side glove compartment for tissue, and wipe up as best I can.  There’s a mark on the seat; I’ll say I spilled something.  

I rub the rest into my hands, and put the key in the ignition.