#21 Thomas won’t know what hit him
Delilah is looking at me like I’m a three-headed dragon, pregnant with a unicorn’s baby.
“You did what?” she asks, shaking her head. “And tomorrow you are…?”
I nod, my cheeks flushed as I sip my cocktail. We’re in a bar downtown, and I confided in her about everything. I’ve never had a friend who I can talk to about stuff like this. Hell, I’ve never had many friends, period. This week has just been so fucking crazy that I needed to tell someone, to gain some perspective before… before it happens.
“What did Michel say when you told him you let Thomas fuck you against his front door, even though you promised him that you weren’t even going to kiss him?” Delilah asks, leaning across the table, curiosity in her eyes.
“He wasn’t exactly surprised,” I admit, still amazed by how well he took my confession. I was prepared for a huge fight, maybe even a break-up, but what happened wasn’t even close to anything I was expecting. “I told him on the drive home, and he pulled into the parking lot of a gas station and he ordered me to suck him off.”
“Wow,” Delilah says, her eyes bright. “Did you?”
I shake my head. “I climbed on top of him and fucked him instead.”
“Damn,” my friend breathes, leaning back in her seat with a dumbfounded expression on her face. “I had no idea you were this kinky, Tracy.”
“Neither did I,” I admit, grinning. It feels strangely liberating to give into my deepest, darkest desires. I never thought I would be the kind of girl who would want anything like this, let alone do it, but it’s like something sparked in me from the day I met Thomas, awakening this whole new side of me. I may be with Michel now, but this all started with Thom for me. He was the first one to offer to have a threesome with me, who got me excited about more than just the fantasy. I’ve always had a twisted mind, but I’ve never been this bold before.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that Michel moved in with you,” Delilah says, shaking her head. “You are like a whole different person lately. I thought you didn’t believe in living with another person, and that you didn’t do anything as serious as that.”
“I didn’t,” I confess, playing with the straw in my cocktail. “It’s still a little scary for me, but Michel made it clear that if we’re going to truly go for it this time around, we should both be all in, not just him. I did ask him to keep his own apartment for a while, because I’m scared that when I fuck up eventually, he won’t have anywhere to go. I’d hate it if I made him feel like he didn’t have a home anymore.”
“Why do you think you will fuck things up with him?” Delilah cocks her head to the side and studies me. “Is this about Thomas? Do you want to be with him instead?”
“No, no, this isn’t about Thom. It’s just that I’m a little… difficult. I don’t like to share things with people. Like, emotions and all that stuff. Michel and I had never even spent more than two nights in a row together before we got back together for the sixteenth time.”
“In five years of being together – minus some months when you were being stupid and broke up – you never spent more than two nights in row with the guy you love, and who loves you?” Delilah looks at me like I’m crazy. “Do you have commitment issues or something?”
She doesn’t know. She has no idea whatsoever how fucked up I am. She’s the closest friend I’ve got, and she knows that my parents died a long time ago, but that’s all she knows. I didn’t even tell her about Uncle Greg. Or about my nightmares. And I’m not planning on sharing all that crap with her now.
“Maybe,” I say vaguely, shrugging. “Michel and I are doing great now, though. It’s challenging for me to live with someone without wanting to flee every once in a while, but he accepts that I go to the gym without him most nights, and that I sometimes don’t want to talk to him for an hour or so, when I get upset. He’s been pretty patient.”
“I’ve known that about him since the day I met him when you came to work at the clinic two years ago,” Delilah says with a small smile. She’s one of Michel’s biggest fans, always telling me to hold onto him. “That man is madly in love with you. If he wasn’t, he’d be long gone by now. Guys like that don’t come around that often, Tracy. And now he’s all into having a threesome with you and the guy you used to cheat on him…”
“I didn’t cheat on Michel!” I protest.
“Yeah, you kinda did,” Delilah counters, sipping her drink. “With Thomas, against the door. What else do you call fucking another guy when you promised you boyfriend you wouldn’t?”
She’s right, of course. When I think about it like that, I feel dirty and all I want to do is crawl into bed and pretend I don’t exist anymore. I could have lost Michel. I chose my own urges over him. That’s not who I am. I’m not a cheater. But… well, I guess I technically am. Just because he’s not mad at me doesn’t change that it happened.
My father would be so disappointed in me. He never even looked at another woman after my mother died. In the 18 years I knew the man, he never once went on a date, flirted with anyone, or even thought about bringing someone into our lives. Never. He once told me that my mother was the best person in the whole world and that no one would ever compare to her anyway.
And here I am, his daughter, cheating on her boyfriend, who is very much alive.
I’m such a disgrace.
“Hey,” Delilah says, taking my hand in hers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I plaster on a fake smile and push my self-loathing aside, along with my worries and sadness. “Everything’s good. Don’t worry. I’m going to get fucked by two guys at once tomorrow. Trust me, my life is perfect.”
She laughs and winks at me. “Yeah, it is. Damn, I don’t know if I’d ever want to do that, though. I think one dick is difficult enough to work with. Two seems excessive.”
I shudder when I think about Thomas and Michel taking me together. “I think I’ll be fine.”
Michel and I had a long talk about what we want from this experience, what we’re okay with and which lines we shouldn’t cross. Michel knows I’d love to have them fuck me in my ass and pussy at the same time, but he’s not up for that. Not yet, he said. If this turns out to be something we want to do more often, we might get there, but for now we both agreed that the furthest we will go is that I will blow Thomas while Michel fucks me. Everything leading up to that is okay, but nothing more. Michel is very clear about not wanting Thomas’ cock anywhere near my vagina, and I respect that.
I have seen Thomas at the gym every single night the past week. It’s like I can’t stay away from him, and it seems he feels the same way. We only box and flirt, nothing more. All conversation about the threesome is done through text, because I don’t have the courage to bring it up when I’m stone-cold sober, looking into his deep blue eyes. I told him about the rules Michel and I set for each other, and asked Thom if there is anything he doesn’t want to do.
Tell your boyfriend to stay the fuck away from my dick and asshole, he texted back. And I’m not kissing him either. I’m all yours, baby.
“You look all hot and bothered just thinking about them,” Delilah teases, kicking my leg under the table to get my attention. “Damn, I can’t wait to hear what it was like. Call me the next day, okay?”
“Sure,” I agree, winking at her. “I will.”
Michel hangs up the phone and looks at me with an annoyed look in his eyes. “I just got called into work,” he grumbles.
“Oh fuck,” I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “I guess it’s not happening tonight then?”
We are supposed to meet Thomas and Dylan at The Palace in half an hour to enjoy the band’s performance, dance, and get drunk enough to go through with this.
“Billy called in sick, and he’s the only one who can run the kitchen the way it should be done,” Michel explains, running his hand over his face. “I probably don’t need to stay in the kitchen all night, but when Shaughna asks me to come in, I can’t say no. She’s the boss, and the pays me extremely well, giving me all the freedom I could possible want, and I can use the kitchen for my catering business during closing hours, so I have to be there tonight. I owe that to her.”
“Honey, you don’t have to explain,” I say, even though I’m disappointed. “I’ll tell Thomas that we won’t be able to make it.”
I’ve already got my phone out when Michel’s large hand covers mine, pulling my attention back to him. “Unless, of course, you and Thomas go out and meet up with me after,” he says, gauging my reaction. “I bet you can get each other in the mood in the club, and I’ve been ready for this since the night you told me he’s game. I want to do this tonight. If we don’t, one of us might back out, and I don’t want that to happen.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, a little surprised at him suggestion this. I thought that he was mostly doing this for me, but the past days I’m starting to feel like he’s as into the whole thing as I am. Maybe even more, if that’s even possible.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Michel says, smiling seductively. Damn, he’s sexy. “Don’t fuck him though. Once was enough. You can kiss and grope, but your tight wet pussy is mine and mine alone. Not his.”
“Okay,” I gulp. “I guess I should get changed then."
“I put your outfit on the bed,” Michel says, following me as I walk to the bedroom.
“I can pick out my own clothes,” I grumble, a little annoyed that he’s trying to decide what I will wear.
“Not tonight you can’t,” Michel whispers, pressing up against me from behind and kissing my neck while he grabs my breasts and squeezes. “I know you like to be in control, but we both know you love it when I take control of you, baby. No use pretending after the way we’ve been fucking the past week. You’re mine. All mine.”
I let my head fall back against him when he slips his hand into my sweatpants, going straight for my clit. I’m already wet. “I’m yours,” I agree, moaning. “But I still want to pick out my own dress.”
“Oh do you now?” he asks, grunting against my skin. “Are you saying you’re not my good little girl anymore? You don’t want me to make you come harder than ever before? You don’t want me to tell Thomas to fuck your mouth while I fill you up with my huge cock?”
“Oh God yes,” I moan, closing my eyes while he pleasures me, giving myself over to him. There’s no use fighting this. He’s right. He owns me.
“Are you going to wear that red dress I picked out for you?” Michel asks, slipping two fingers inside of my pussy while another one pushes into my puckered little hole.
“Yeah,” I breathe, unable to do anything but agree.
“And don’t bother with panties,” he grunts into my ear, his cock rock-hard against my back. “It will only end up completely soaked. “You won’t need a bra either. I like it when I can see your nipples getting hard through that thin fabric, my slutty vixen.”
“Ah!” I cry out when he picks up the pace, his other hand pinching my nipple.
“Drive Thomas wild in the club,” Michel orders, his voice commanding. “You won’t be wearing anything but your black heels and that slutty little dress. Make sure he knows that. I will text you when I’m done with work. You better be wet and ready for me when I tell you to meet me, Tracy. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be crying through the whole damn thing.”
I come with a high-pitched moan, slumping aback against him. The night hasn’t even truly begun yet, and I’m already a complete and utter mess.
“Now get dressed,” Michel orders, smacking my ass. “You’re a good girl, Tracy. So fucking sexy and always ready for me.”
“Hmm,” I murmur, my legs feeling like they’re made of bubblegum. I strip down to my panties, and Michel tugs them off as well, using them to wipe away my wetness before helping me put on the dress. It’s low-cut, but it luckily has built-in support, so it won’t look like I’m not wearing anything underneath. My breasts aren’t that big anyway, so the elastic lining can keep them in place well enough. The skirt falls right above my knees, so it shouldn’t be obvious I don’t have on panties, but I know I need to be careful when I bend over, or I will flash everyone.
“Gorgeous,” Michel comments, his eyes raking over my body as I step into my heels. “Absolutely stunning. Thomas won’t know what hit him.”