Chapter 2: Workaholic Partiers, Subversive Remarks, and Investigation

The incessant pounding in my head finally woke me up. I needed an aspirin sandwich or my brain was going to explode and make a mess in my new townhouse.

I was in a strange bed, and I was naked. I had a strange man on my left, and another on my right. I lifted my head in a major effort. The men were Paul and Mike, my neighbors. Oh, yeah, I'd fucked them many times the night before, and I'd also been drinking martinis – my downfall.

On the other side of Mike, Sheila laid, one breast exposed where the sheet had pulled away from her body. She had nice breasts; I remember sucking on them last night.

I moaned and nearly threw up because of the loud sound.

Paul said, "Hush. Don't make so much noise."

"I have a killer headache," I whispered.

"Wait here." Paul got out of bed and disappeared. He was naked too, and he did have six-pack abs. I heard him in the bathroom searching for something.

Paul came back with a martini glass and a bottle of aspirin.

I looked at the glass, "Uggghhh!"

"No, it's tap water. I wouldn't do that to you. I already took some."

I sat up, ignoring my nudity for the moment. After taking the aspirin, I spotted a bedside clock that read eleven a.m.

"What time did we go to bed?"

"Four," Paul replied as he searched in the closet for something.

Sheila and Mike both moaned next to me.

Paul came out and handed me a bathrobe. "This'll get you started. I'll go try to find our clothes."

I got up, and Mike rolled into my spot. He looked intent on going back to sleep. Sheila ruined that idea by jostling him. "Get up. You're our host. You have to make us all breakfast." She leaned in and kissed his shoulder and cheek.

Mike rolled across the bed and stood. He was naked too, and didn't seem at all concerned that his cock was partially erect. Outside was a party sunny day.

Sheila hopped up and started to move too, wrapping the top sheet around her like a sari.

Paul appeared. He was in briefs and a t-shirt. He carried a large indistinguishable pile of women's clothing. He said, "Most of this was mixed together, so I just brought the whole pile. If something's missing let me know and I'll fetch it."

I found my undies and started to step into them, but then had a further thought. I turned to Sheila, "Want to take a shower with me?"

She broke into a large smile, "Heck, yes."

I shed the robe, took her hand, and we walked naked together into Mike's bathroom as the sheet fell from Sheila's body.

I got the water going and at the right temperature.

Sheila said, "We both got a lot of special Christmas presents from the guys."

I chuckled, "Yes, and we gave too. I'm a little sore, and I feel I should be embarrassed but for some reason I'm not."

Sheila came into my arms and we kissed. "Jane, you are one special person. I'd never made love to a woman before, and we kept doing it and making it better, again and again, all night long between the guys taking turns fucking us. I'm feeling very affectionate and close to you."

"Me too, darling. I also drank too much."

Sheila said in a worried tone, "Do you think the guys like us or were we just a couple of one-night stands? I really like both of them."

I laughed harder, "I know; I do too. You tried to tell the world last night that they were both fabulous fucks; I believe those were your exact words. You seemed to favor Mike."

"I did. He's so nice. He was so attentive to me, and he's a divine lover. Thank you for sharing Paul with me."

"Swapping," I said, relishing the term and how it had felt last night as we'd repeatedly done the act.

"OK, thank you for swapping with me. I liked getting fucked by two guys. I'd never had that happen before. You seemed to get on well with Paul too."

"We did."

"So, what now?"

"We play the day by ear. Maybe they want to get rid of us – if we're the one-nighters, or maybe they want us around. We'll figure it out."

Sheila said in a forlorn voice, "If I'm rejected I'll cry."

"I'll hold you. I care about you too."

We dried and dressed, and then went downstairs to the kitchen. It was a little peculiar being in evening dress for breakfast.

Mike and Paul had been talking in low tones as we neared they stopped. There was one of those awkward moments when nobody knew what to say.

Paul held his arm out to me from where he sat, and I flowed into it. He pulled my face down for a kiss. "Feeling any better?"

"Yeah. Aspirin and a shower are a winning combination."

Mike was hugging Sheila, and she looked soothed.

Mike said, "I have slim pickin's for breakfast, mostly because I seldom eat the meal."

I spoke up, "If you want, we could move the party to our place. I can whip up some omelets, and even pancakes with maple syrup. Lots of coffee and juice over there too."

Both men stood. "The party's moving," Mike declared.

Sheila and I did the walk of shame together, from Mike's to our townhouse a couple of hundred feet down the row. I felt there were many eyes in each townhouse unit watching us stroll by in evening clothes; they were all saying, 'I know what they did.'

Inside we became a flurry of activity, putting the greatest Christmas-Day-After breakfast together. Sheila reminded me it was Boxing Day in England.

The guys arrived about fifteen minutes later. They'd changed clothes, so I guessed that Paul had gone home to his townhouse too.

No one asked embarrassing questions, like 'Well, what now?' Instead, we chatted about Christmas, the snow, the fun at the senior King's the day before, and even the fun we had last night, without getting too specific. I wondered if that were a good or bad sign.

We finished and were sitting around my dining room table. Somebody had to say something. I decided it wouldn't be me. Sheila was already broadcasting insecurity, so she was out of it. That left one of the guys.

We looked at them expectantly.

Mike announced, "Ladies, we had a blast with you last night."

I thought, 'Oh, shit. This is the let-you-down-gently speech.'

Mike went on, "And, neither of us want it to stop. We like you both – a lot. You were daring, sexy, erotic, stimulating, and we already knew you were smart and fun to be with."

Paul chimed in, "Yesterday was perfect, well except for little comments my parents and sister made to me." He rolled his eyes. "Aside from that, you both were wonderful. I'm so glad to you came to my family's party; you made the day great for me. It made all the difference for me. And then, last night, I ... we were blown away in more ways than I can count. I've never had so much fun or felt so erotic and intimate. Mike said it first; we don't want our party of four to stop – maybe ever."

"What's that mean?" I posed. My heart was beating faster. The guys felt the same way Sheila and I did.

Mike said, "If you're willing, we date you – a lot. We can play and get to know each other better."

I asked timorously, "As couples? As a foursome? What are talking about?"

"Both, yet I also like how we teamed up initially. You can continue to date other people too. I mean we're not exclusive yet, but I sure am feeling that way ... in a way."

Inside, I was soaring around the room scattering confetti. I wanted all of Sheila's cheerleaders to come and cheer. We'd gotten boyfriends almost without trying. Oh, this was such a fun time in my life.

We spent the rest of the weekend with the guys.

Paul and Mike slipped back into their work the next day, and neither Sheila nor I heard from them at all week until the afternoon of New Year's Eve. Every night we'd touch base with each other with the question, 'Did you hear anything?' and the answer was always negative. So much for having boyfriends!

I got a text from Paul the afternoon of New Year's Eve, which happened to be a Friday night; 'Are you busy tonight? Could we ring in the New Year together, along with Mike and Sheila? XOXOX Paul.'

I was sort of pissed, being taken for granted that I had nothing else going on for New Years, the biggest party night of the year. Despite the insult I did want to see the two of them, especially Paul.

Sheila had the same reaction I did, but predictably she was a little less sure of herself. She'd gotten a similar text from Mike, but hadn't responded yet until she recovered. She was thinking they really didn't like her and that Christmas night and the weekend was all just a bunch of bullshit from them. She felt that she was a last ditch effort for a date on the last night of the year, and that they knew she was such a loser that she'd be at home with nothing to do. Despite the feelings of inferiority, she was pissed at them for being so arrogant.

We plotted a little, I cheered her up with some of our ideas, and then we sent identical messages to them. 'Yes. Party. You're taking us out clubbing in the city. Pick us up at eight-thirty. C U.' I was still peeved so I left off any further signs or emojis that might signify hugs and kisses.

Sheila and I did each other's hair as we further plotted about how to tease the guys before we got to the main attraction – sex! We'd loved the weekend, and admitted to each other that we'd remained horny all week. Even if the guys just wanted us in the sack, we could still have a good time before they blew us away.

Mike pulled his SUV in front of my townhouse exactly at eight-thirty. Paul was already with him, and the two of them came to the door and rang the bell.

We let them in, and it was clear that we were up for some serious clubbing. We were dressed to the nines. I was the most elegant I'd been, probably since my high school prom. I wore a red cocktail dress I'd had for a few years, but never had the courage to wear after I bought it because it was short – just below my crotch, displayed a lot of the curvature of both boobs, and had no back – confirming that I was braless. By plan, I was commando too.

Sheila was similarly clad, and had also dispensed with any under garments. When either of sat down, our pussies immediately went on display unless we were alert and attentive to immediately crossing our legs or slamming our knees together the way mother taught us.

Of course, the winter coats and boots took the edge off our seductive postures, but we forged ahead anyway.

We were happy, and even sang along with some of the songs on the radio, as Mike drove us into Boston. Boston's celebration near the Common is called First Night. We avoided the celebration as too crowded and too cold.

We ended at a nightclub named Ekko that had a great band with a strong back beat. Paul had somehow gotten reservations for us, and we had a good table as well, not too near the band so we could talk, yet with a view of the dance floor from a slightly elevated level.

Sheila and I pulled both men to the dance floor after we'd ordered drinks. I was staying away from vodka martinis, ordering white wine instead. Sheila followed my lead.

We danced and talked, and even made out a little with them during the slow dances. We changed partners a few times too, for both activities. I liked the way both men kissed.

As we sat, both Sheila and I often flashed the men our pussies, acting totally nonchalant about it – oblivious to our nearly naked condition or the effect it was having on them. Both guys started to sport hard-ons that were hard to hide.

Of course, in doing the flashing, many of the guys around us also immediately noticed our commando condition. When I had the attention of one dude I very purposefully spread my legs and lay back against the back of the booth. My whole posture invited me to get fucked. I thought my voyeur would cum in his pants.

When either of us was on the dance floor, if we put our arms up around the guy's neck, our skirt raised just enough to show the lower curve of our butt cheeks, and, if you had the right angle, our pussy slits. We made a point to do this when our partners were near us and looking in our direction. One particular dance with Paul, I swear I thought Mike would cum right there on the dance floor, or else he was going to trip over his lower jaw.

At midnight, we screamed, tooted horns, yelled some more, and kissed everybody we could. The cute guy I'd flashed earlier made a point to get in my face. He asked for my phone number, but I laughed and told him to call 9-1-1. After midnight had passed we focused on the guys. The band had the crowd at a fevered pitch, so we joined in, dancing up a storm for another half hour. By twelve-thirty, we could feel a drop in the size of the crowd. We left at twelve forty-five when Mike got a signal that the car was curbside.

We were back at Dillon Run sooner than I expected. Obviously, the guys were thinking we'd have some sort of nightcap. Mike pulled up in front of his place, and the four of us got out.

As rehearsed, Sheila and I kissed each guy, and said, "That was a fabulous evening. Thank you so much." We then took a few steps towards home.

Mike spoke first, "But ... errr ... we thought you'd come in and have a drink ... or whatever, some more."

I said in an obviously teasing tone, "Well, this was sort of our first date. Sheila and I don't put out on first dates. Besides, it was such a last minute thing – this date, and all."

Paul was standing there with his mouth hanging open. I couldn't resist laughing. I turned and went back to him, as Sheila went to Mike.

I spoke for the two of us. "Did either of you think it might be a bit presumptive about asking us out only a few hours before the biggest date night of the year?"

Both guys shook their heads.

"Well, we were both kind of insulted, but you both have so much charisma, that we decided to forego our anger and just have a good time."

We stood there, and neither man knew what to do. Were we coming in with them, or going home?

I pushed Paul towards the door. "Let's go in; it's fucking cold out here, I'd be cold fucking out here, and I'm thirsty."

The guys apologized for their inconsiderate behavior inside, explaining that neither of them had thought about partying at all until someone Mike was having lunch with asked him what he was doing that night. Mike hadn't even realized it was New Year's Eve. He'd called Paul, and they tried to put together an evening. These guys were workaholics.

We quickly moved on from there. I urged Mike to dim the lights, put on the mood music, and get us all drinks. I stuck with white wine with a splash of soda water. My second round at his house was almost all soda water.

I urged Sheila to Mike, and I started in on Paul. We were making out on different parts of the large sectional.

After a few minutes, I suggested that we switch. Sheila and I had already talked about this, so the changeover happened without suggestion or discussion, and left the men speechless again, this time in a nice way.

We switched a few times more, lost our clothing, helped the guys lose their clothing, and then Sheila and I fucked their brains out all night long. When the guys were in recovery mode, Sheila and I again put on a little show for them. We hadn't gotten together sexually since Christmas night, but we had talked every day since then about what we did, how we felt, and how much we enjoyed each other. We could hardly wait to get at each other again. I didn't plan to wait until the next time we had a serious date night.

We took the initiative with the guys a week later, inviting them to a Saturday evening dinner at our house. They were so wrapped up in their work; I don't think they'd eaten anything healthy since we left them.

Over dinner, I commented, "You know, if we're going to be your girlfriends, you're going to have to prove that you are deserving of being boyfriends."

Paul said in a worried tone, "What do you mean?"

"Well, we like being romanced. It's nice to know we're being thought of once in a while – like once a day, at least, you know in between meetings, or maybe as you rush off to the men's room. I know you each are wrapped up tighter than a drum with your businesses and investments, but that's not what's going to keep you warm at night or serve you well in your old age. Well, I suppose you could buy a warm body, but you won't get love and affection like we can provide."

Paul and Mike dumbly nodded. Only time would tell if they got the message.

A week later, we'd done nothing with the guys, but had heard from them about every other day. We each got flowers delivered, and Mike apologized about missing the next weekend, but he had to go to California on business and to see his parents.

I ran into Paul's sister, Leslie Rollins, in the supermarket. We chatted for a bit, and were hitting it off just fine, and she suggested we get coffee. I agreed, and we met at the local Starbucks a half-hour later. Neither of us had to worry about frozen things melting in the car; the temperature was ten below zero.

Leslie started in, "It's so nice to see my brother taking an interest in someone instead of work."

"We've had a lot of fun together – Mike and Sheila too."

"Ah, yes. Mike. Mr. Gadabout."

"Really?"

Leslie emphasized, "I don't know him that well, but I believe there's a trail of bodies behind him. I bet that's why he moved from the west coast; they were piling up."

"Oh," I said, ever the master of conversation when I was on the receiving end of such gossip.

Leslie volunteered, "Ask my friend Alice who lives in Palo Alto. She knew him, went to parties he was at, and traveled in the same circle, I think. They didn't date, however. Mike was highly desirable; you know: tall, dark, handsome, and rich. She's met Paul too, and I'm hoping they get it on when she comes to the east coast sometime."

I asked about her brother, and she rolled her eyes. She said, "He left his own wake only on this side of the country."

A few days later, I mustered the courage and called the number Leslie had given me for Alice. She answered right away; the number was her cellphone. I explained who I was, and that I had a friend dating Mike, and that Leslie told me she could give me the skinny on him more than she could.