Triptych - Cover

Triptych

Copyright© 2012 to Elder Road Books

Chapter 2

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 2 - The continuing adventures of Tony, Melody, and Lissa. You should read “Model Student” to understand this. Now sophomore art students and trying to understand and manage their new life, Tony, Melody, Lissa and their friends attempt to come to grips with the larger reality of life outside of college as well as in. Some sex in most chapters, much sex in some. The trio finally discovers it is in love—with each other and someone else! This story includes an abused submissive woman.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Polygamy/Polyamory   Slow  

LISSA WAS ASLEEP between Melody and me when I woke up about three in the morning. I thought at first that I woke up because I needed to pee, but I had a painful erection, made more painful by the fact that Lissa had it gripped tightly in her hand. I shifted a little and tried to dislodge her, but I woke her up doing it.

“Oh! Sorry, love,” Lissa whispered. “Was I hurting?”

“A little. It’s okay.”

“You’re really hard.”

“I just woke up that way.”

Her lips closed on mine, then opened to let our tongues dance together, lightly touching and retreating. She never let go of my cock.

“I’m so frightened, Tony,” she whispered. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s okay. We all contributed and we’ll make it back to each other.”

“Love me, Tony. Love me, please.”

I moved over her and she guided me to her opening while we continued to kiss. She rubbed the head of my cock up and down her slit, over her clit, spreading the dampness. She held me ready and I pushed in. Her intensity in this quiet love-making was as fierce as the flare of her anger had been a few hours earlier. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Melody looking at us. She slid closer to us and laid her head on Lissa’s shoulder as we continued to build at an agonizingly slow pace. Lissa pulled her tighter as I bent my head to kiss my second lover. Then Melody raised her head and Lissa kissed her.

I kept up slow long strokes as the three of us held each other. I felt Melody’s hand slide off my shoulder and wedge in between Lissa and me. I raised myself up to give her better access and could feel her fingers moving against Lissa’s clit, brushing up against my cock as I pushed in. Lissa’s pace quickened involuntarily. Her breathing deepened and her breasts rose more sharply, begging to be kissed. Melody and I were inspired at the same time and each sucked one of Lissa’s nipples. I bit lightly and Lissa cried out. Her inner muscles rippled around my cock and I could not stop my climax.

I supported most of my weight on my right elbow so I wouldn’t crush my lovers, but wrapped my left arm around Melody and joined hands there with Lissa, holding our younger wife to us.

Our breathing began to even out as I felt my cock shrink and slide from Lissa’s depths. Her eyes were closed and there was a smile playing lightly on her lips. I let myself sink to the side, lying with my left leg still over hers. When I awoke with the sunrise, we were in the same position.


Melody and the boys dropped me off at the club and headed out for a day at the zoo. After we talked over breakfast, Lissa decided she needed professional advice and went to see Jack. The plan was for her to pick me up at PCAD around noon and we’d meet the rest of the family at the zoo for lunch.

I worked out with my trainer for an hour and then hit the court for another hour before getting showered and walking over to SCU first. Today, I had to decide what I was studying.

“Well, Tony,” Sam said, “I’m not surprised with your choice, but I do wish you’d consider Exercise Science. You’re a natural athlete and it seems a shame to have you wasted on English Literature.”

“I’d consider it,” I laughed, “if it weren’t for the fact that I hate jocks. I could be a great athletic trainer if I didn’t have to deal with athletes.” We both laughed.

I did consider majoring in Exercise Science. Sam had been lobbying pretty hard for it. It was interesting. I just didn’t see a future for myself in that field. I’d enrolled in a Human Anatomy course to fulfill my core science requirement this fall and my one English class was a departmental requirement that didn’t actually count toward my major. The rest of my first year requirements had been fulfilled with my AP classes in English and Math. So I had an easy sophomore standing at both SCU and at PCAD. Next year, I’d have to do some requirements for my major in Art and Literary Criticism and I’d probably have fewer classes at PCAD and more at SCU. It was confusing at best.

The unfortunate part about the schedule was that Anatomy met five days a week at 7:30 a.m. It was going to be hell. I still didn’t know what I’d be able to take at PCAD.

I left Coach Sam’s office and out of the athletic building straight into some kind of campus rally. It was the middle of July and still there were about a hundred people out on the athletic field. I wandered into it to see what was going on. This will be my campus in the fall. I should be aware of what is happening.

Awareness. When it came down to it that was my one goal for the year. When I zone out while I’m painting, that’s one thing. But I couldn’t really remember anything of my first term at PCAD last year—in fact, nothing before Melody reached into my heart and pulled me into life. I knew there were campus events, plays, concerts, politics ... all kinds of things happening while I sank deeper into my darkness. This year, I’d be aware of my surroundings and of other people. First and foremost, that meant my family, but it also meant being aware of my environment and taking advantage of the opportunities available to college students.

“ ... one hundred people in each of four camps in the Seattle area. They live in tents. They don’t have running water and electricity. They’ve had homes foreclosed and cars repossessed. They’ve been ill or injured. Yes, some of them are transients. Our society has all kinds of people. They don’t need handouts, but they do need our help.”

I’d heard about the tent cities in Seattle. Homeless people who camped together for safety. They were moved out of various underpasses and then the local churches got involved and invited them to stay for three months at a time on their property.

“This field where we are standing is empty in the winter months. Who wants to come out and play soccer when it’s raining?” The speaker continued. “The student government has proposed that we invite a Tent City to occupy our sports field for October, November, and December. We want to reach out our hands and help the homeless.”

“Did you get a flyer?” asked a guy next to me. He was maybe an inch or so shorter than me, wearing khaki cargo shorts and a bright blue t-shirt that said ‘Pitch-a-tent’ on it. I took the offered brochure.

“So there’ll be a tent city here this fall?” I asked.

“We passed the resolution at the last student conference in the spring,” he said. “I’m Eric, by the way. Damn fine to meet you.” I laughed. Animal House had been required viewing with my dad.

“Are you recruiting?” I asked.

“Recruiting socially conscious volunteers to help with making a smooth transition when we have 100 homeless people living on the soccer field and using the Athletic Pavilion showers.”

“Aren’t the athletes going to be pissed that their field is being taken over?” I asked.

“This is an intramural field, used entirely for club and pickup sports. The most action we’ve seen on it in the past two years is an occasional cricket match among the Indian students. We aren’t touching the varsity athletic fields,” Eric said.

“Okay,” I said. Cool. Maybe I can do something for this.

I took the flyer and Eric wrote his phone number on it with instructions to call and set up my volunteer time. I signed the volunteer list and wrote in my phone number. I headed for PCAD. I needed to set an appointment with the special adviser for the dual major program. I knew I’d have to attend SCU orientation in September, just as if I was a new freshman.

Of course, there was hardly anyone at the school. PCAD doesn’t have a very big summer program, so campus is just about deserted. Miss Stevenson, I discovered, was handling the appointment schedules for my new adviser.

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