Chapter 15

Friday was a long, long day, waiting to get let out of classes and go meet up with my girls.

I’d slept well, woken up refreshed for once.

I’d been emotionally exhausted after the girls’ surprise visit of the previous evening, but it had made me a whole lot happier about things.

For the first time in a couple of weeks, my rest had not been interrupted by bad dreams about seeing my lovers with other guys, no brooding, no lying awake in the middle of the night worrying.

Though I can’t say my concentration in class that day was anywhere near 100%.

Okay, if it broke 30%, I’d be surprised. I was THAT distracted. And constant checking of my wristwatch didn’t help any.

In my mind, I kept going back to our conversation of the previous evening; it had started the healing process – when your girlfriends take the trouble to drive over midweek, at night, in winter, that kinda reassures you that you aren’t going to be dumped – but there was a whole lot more we hadn’t had time to discuss.

It was good that Paul had reached out and offered his help, but...

I simply couldn’t share the problem with him.

Some things you simply do NOT share, and fears that your sister might be cheating on you are right up there at the top of the list. Closely followed by your parents hosting monthly sex parties, and the fact I was (ahem) regularly escorting the mother of his girlfriend around town ... Paul had never asked where I went Wednesdays, or who with, and I certainly wasn’t intending to tell.

There was a whole raft of things I just couldn’t get into with him, as good a friend as he was.

Made it a tad awkward to open up at all.

(It’s also worth remembering that, back then, I still suffered from a streak of insecurity a mile wide, frequently fearful that the current run of good things was doomed to disaster. Part of the cause was residual damage from being excluded from the family secret by my parents, part the normal late teenage male lack of self-belief. I’d never been near the top of the high school social tree, just one of the middle of the pack, not wishing to get noticed or risk humiliation from the self-appointed elite. It takes quite a while to get out of that ‘outsider’ mindset.)

The hands on my wristwatch appeared to take fucking forever to crawl round the dial; each class felt like three hours long; it seemed to take a week before it was even lunchtime.

Yeah, I do know that time is constant, even if I’ve read enough science fiction time travel to be part convinced that one day we’ll find we (or more likely some more intelligent life form than we mere humans) can manipulate it, like finding a way to go faster than the speed of light. I do understand – and let’s not get into the philosophical discussion about the differences between time and duration here – that it is our perception of time passing that is the major variable. Whatever, I was eager to get to the end of the day’s classes so I could get on the road, and it just didn’t seem to be happening fast enough.

The hour of ‘free’ time between my first and second classes of the morning dragged; I wasn’t able to settle down to catch up on my reading or going through my lecture notes as I usually did. The way my mind was sparking, I could have held my notepad upside down and it wouldn’t have made the slightest difference.

And time slowed even further after I’d hit the cafeteria; I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been quite so impatient for the lunch break period to end, and afternoon classes to start.

I don’t think I took in a single word the Business Ethics professor uttered. He could have stated that Bernie Madoff’s Ponzi scheme was a shining beacon of delivering the American Dream, and I wouldn’t have challenged it.

(When I looked at my notes the next week and hardly understood a word, I had to ask one of my classmates to let me see her notes. Quite the contrast. But she hadn’t been worrying about a seriously awkward conversation coming up, so had actually paid attention to what had been going on.)

Several months of apparent time elapsed later, it was FINALLY four o’clock and the university was out for the weekend.

It hadn’t exactly been torture in the true meaning of the word, but it hadn’t been at all pleasant straining at the leash, waiting to be released.

My mood as I rushed out to my car was part relief that the delay was over, part trepidation for what was about to happen.

And then the next unpleasantness. Not quite gridlock, but it sure seemed like it.

Friday night traffic sucks. It’s one of the certainties of life.

Seems like the world and their dog pile into their cars and abandon Boston for two days and nights away from town.

And most of them seemed to have decided to travel at the same time.

I kept having to remind myself how incredibly fortunate I’d been to acquire one of the rare and precious student parking permits two straight years. My next two years, I’d either have to live out of University accommodation, or learn to live with my car stashed in some expensive parking garage. That’s the price you pay for attending a city center college. You get the fun of living in a vibrant city, but you also experience some of the problems and inconveniences of urban life.

Did you ever read that magazine article about off-street secure parking in some downtown areas adding more to the value of a house than the entire value of a house elsewhere in the country?

Crazy. But the examples the journalist quoted absolutely backed up her story. Maybe it was limited in extent, a mark of status, rather than actual need, among those who could afford to live in those neighborhoods. Like the Boston apartment prices – I’d seen real estate ads suggesting ten million for three thousand square feet up on the twenty-third floor, just because of the address!

Something is seriously wrong when so much of our national wealth is tied up in high-rise real estate. Not only are some people able to come up with that kind of money so easily it’s like they’re paying for their groceries, but, if the ‘only one suite left’ claims of the realtors were true, they seemed almost eager to commit that kind of cash to secure the current ‘exclusive address’.

And the contrast when you see homeless people trudging past these gleaming buildings...

I might be young and idealistic, and I know you can’t fix the world, but...

Let’s say it makes me a little more conscious of how fortunate and privileged I am in so many ways.

I wasn’t only musing about my surroundings as I ‘drove’ in the stop-start procession; I was also reminiscing about our previous Westin stay, when I’d first talked Jess into spending a night with me, had revealed my true identity as her roomie’s brother, and then she’d helped me by calling Laura to join us...

Quite the romantic and erotic memory. And one heck of a relief for me to be able to lose the fake Noo York accent, the mask, and the questionable facial hair.

And I’d never, not if I lived another million years, forget the parade of expressions that had followed each other over my sister’s face when we’d removed her blindfold.

Now I had some serious emotional healing to perform – our lack of communication had almost caused a fucking horrendous clusterfuck (to use a technical business expression) and I was both dreading it and impatient for it to get started.

Part of the problem was that none of us were blameless. I’d happily kiss ass and admit fault where I’d been in the wrong, and – judging by their attitude the evening before – they were also willing to eat some crow. But, as I’d learned in my Business Psychology classes, there are as many ways to entrench grievances as there are to resolve them, and assertiveness is a little too close to arrogance and hubris. I had to hold my own without getting their backs up.

I could so NOT afford to fuck this up. Denial was not an option; it had to be resolved.

I loved Laura and Jess to bits but needed to make them know that I hadn’t liked some of their behavior, without seeming judgmental or over-controlling. Or jealous. That part was going to be kinda tricky, because in reality, I was insanely jealous. Although I was willing to share them a little, I wanted them to remain MY – property is too strong a word – partners going through life. We might be partying with others right now, but I wanted ... NEEDED ... the three of us to grow old together.

At least, unlike twenty-four hours earlier, I knew this discussion was coming.

So ... Hopefully that gives you some idea of my state of mind that afternoon. Not in a good place, but not in a bad place either.

Anyhow, even with the gridlock, I eventually got near our destination, and, from the look of things, somewhat ahead of the rest of the blundering herd of Friday night refugees.

The I-95 interchanges at Waltham are backed up at evening rush most days, but tonight, 27A for Totten Pond Road was almost clear.

Seemed like having everything ready in my car so I didn’t waste time going back to my room had been the correct choice; it was still twenty minutes before six as I stepped out of my car in the depths of the Westin parking garage.

I hadn’t seen either of their cars; when I got to the hotel lobby with no sign of them, I realized I was the first to arrive, which was a little bit of a surprise; I’d expected the girls to have the better journey because they weren’t fighting the city traffic.

Jess had texted they were leaving on time, so they shouldn’t be long. Not like they were late enough for me to worry.

I sat waiting in the lobby for just a few minutes before the elevator doors from the parking garage opened and two lovely young girls emerged.

They were in their everyday college clothes, sneakers, jeans, and sweatshirts, carrying their winter coats, hats and overnight bags, and for a moment their bright expectant smiling faces were the center of attention from everybody waiting around in the lobby.

Seeing them certainly brought a HUGE smile to my face.

They trotted over for a brief hug and kiss before Jess went to the desk and checked in; Laura standing by my side with a slightly wary expression on her face. I grinned at her and told her again how pleased I was to be with them.

Jess returned waving three keycards and led us to the elevator, pressing the button for the seventh floor.

She stopped in front of room 740, the same one we’d had the first night I’d gotten her to come on a date with me, the night I’d revealed my true identity to her, and then to my sister.

I looked at her face as she operated the keycard; I could tell from the expectant expression she was wondering / hoping if I’d remember without her needing to prompt me.

“Room seven-forty? Coincidence?”

The grin on her face broadened into a happy smile as her hope was realized.

“You need to ask? We have some truly great memories of this room, and we wish we would be making some more!”

That was exactly my wish also. And when I said so, I was hugged from both sides. In the doorway. It was quite the crush, given we were still carrying all our stuff.

We finally got ourselves and the door separated, allowed it to close behind us with that final over-loud click that seems to be the prerogative of hotel doors, and dumped our stuff on the couch, pretty much filling it up.

The two of them seated themselves cross-legged on the bed and patted the space between and in front of them.

I lowered myself into the gap with my arms behind me and my legs stretched out; I’m a guy, so my hips aren’t as flexible as theirs. That didn’t work for long; I found I needed my hands free to roam over their bodies, so within a couple of minutes I was lying on my back with a girl on each shoulder.

We took turns kissing each other, in the kind of passionate liplock that would have caused hotel security down in the lobby to intervene as being way beyond an acceptable public display of affection. Especially with three participants rather than two. Something that would absolutely infuriate the morality police. Massachusetts may be one of the more liberal places on the East Coast, but there are always people who will take offence, and same sex kissing enrages the homophobes.

And, believe me, the kisses Laura and Jess were exchanging were absolutely sexual and passionate in nature. Nor was there any dip in lustfulness when they kissed me.

Eventually Jess was first to break off; we were all out of breath with flushed faces. I’d have bet that their nipples were even stiffer than my dick.

I looked over at the hotel alarm clock radio. Wow! It was almost quarter to seven. We’d been making out on a bed for more than half an hour, and we still had all our clothes on!

That had to be a first.

Jess asked, “Hey guys, do you want to eat or swim first?”

We settled for eating; we didn’t bother changing our clothes, just washed up and went down as we were in standard college student garb.

The reaction from the restaurant staff was very different from the previous visit, when the girls had been dressed to kill; this time we were ushered to a side table so we would be able to admire the beautiful people when they arrived.

Not that anyone looking half as good as my two did turn up while we were eating; Jess made us laugh when she whispered that it was still way too early for anyone who took an hour to get dressed and made-up for ordinary Friday night dining out.

The food certainly beat college cuisine; nothing incredible, but reasonably priced for the pleasure of being served at table rather than joining the buffet line. We took our time but didn’t linger. Jess charged the meal to the room, and we headed back up.

Mom had always insisted we wait thirty minutes between eating and swimming; we easily managed to fill the time.

It’s good business sense to always use spare time constructively towards your next objective, so we got naked ready to change into our swimming gear.

Though once we’d stripped, we didn’t hurry to cover up again.

The jury is still out on whether it is more erotic to have two girls licking your dick, one each side, or one with her mouth on the head while the other takes your balls between her lips. Maybe I need to experience it a few thousand more times before I come to a decision. Whatever, either way is just totally incredible.

Jess was the one who got my load, and she shared the snowball with her girlfriend while I lay panting and happily watching their interaction.

And admiring their trim bodies.

Smoking hot!

Sis and I were pasty white below the neck after being deprived of serious sunshine for almost six months, while Jess’s hispanic heritage had preserved the underlying light mocha color of her skin. The two of them looked great together, and I resolved once again to do everything I could to nurture their relationship.

They had something very special between them; maybe the fact of having been in the same bed pretty much every night for the past eighteen months gave them an ease and natural grace together. It was kind of like they could communicate without words. Heck, when they kissed, you could almost feel the love, trust and affection flowing between them.

I gritted my teeth in a moment of sudden and unreasonable jealousy, understanding they shared something I just couldn’t compete with, being half a year late to the party. However, in my favor, their connection was something very different from the relationship I had with them, so it wasn’t competing, more complimenting, as long as I understood that. Jealousy was exactly the wrong attitude.

It was almost a disappointment to see them don their swimsuits when it was time to head downstairs. I was glad of my baggy swim shorts because I was sporting another boner after watching their loving; if I’d been wearing Speedos I’d have been cited for public indecency. As it was, I was very conscious of my aroused state as we went down to the fitness suite, wearing the hotel-supplied robes.

We wore down to the pool and had a fun swim together. It’s not a huge pool, more for leisure swimming than laps and a cardio workout, but, as we’d discovered a year earlier, it’s long enough to make a length underwater quite challenging.

Back in our room, Laura carefully hung the swimsuits on the heated towel rail to dry off – there was no need for us to have to don cold and damp swimwear before our next trip to the pool.

Then we piled into the shower to wash off the chlorine and the sweat of the day.

We messed about under the stream of hot water for a while, doing taste tests to check we were clean, dried our hair with the blow dryer and returned to the bedroom.

I followed close behind them. When two girls have their hand on your dick, you go where they are headed, no question!

Jess sat herself up by the pillows at the top of the bed.

“Roomie, as I had first go last time we were here, I want to watch you two loving each other.”

Laura and I made slow and sensual love, taking our time to caress each other to fully appreciate what we were sharing before she hooked a leg over me, straddled my waist, and impaled herself – oh so slowly, our eyes locked. SO erotic!

Jess was close by as we moved in unison, smiling broadly as she took pleasure in our mutual delight, encouraging us with words and light touches, but not actually joining in.

Our eyes were locked as we reached our climaxes together, the first convulsions of the soft tissues surrounding my dick setting off my ejaculation. I read in her eyes this was a very special moment to her, and I’m sure she could clearly see just how much she meant to me. Jess crawled even closer and kissed us both lovingly, then moved down to enjoy our mingled juices.

An hour later, it was Jess’s clenching pussy that pulled more of my seed out of my nuts and onto her cervix. Once again, our eyes were locked as we exchanged and confirmed our mutual commitment.

Sis did the cleanup, and we cuddled together.

Sex parties are okay. Making love with someone you really care for is so much better.

Life was good.

No, life was GREAT.

Emotionally, I felt complete. Better than I had since New Year.

I had a feeling it was the calm before the storm.

We still needed to conclude the unfinished discussion from Thursday evening, but my eyelids were heavy...

The three of us had dozed off still entangled; I woke a few minutes after midnight badly needing to piss. Unfortunately, I couldn’t escape without waking my girlfriends.

They followed me into the bathroom, after which Laura headed for their bags, returning with three bottles of beer and a family-sized pack of chips.

They sat cross-legged in front of me as I propped myself against the bed head.

It was clearly time for some serious talking.

That was okay with me; in turn I had some fundamental questions for them about how they saw our relationship. I started off with an easy one.

“So why are we talking here rather than at home?”

They looked at each other to decide who was going to answer. Sis shrugged.

“Because we came here last year when you didn’t want Mom and Dad to know we were meeting up, and that turned out to be a very good decision. This time we want to find out exactly what’s suddenly gone wrong between us three, without risking them interrupting us just when we’re making some progress. That’s why we’ve come back here, oh, and because we did so well here last time, it’s a kinda special place to us. Hence the same room.”

“And why now, this weekend? Why not wait until Spring Break?”

Both lovely faces wore a frown. “We didn’t understand how bad you were feeling until Libby called us Thursday morning and told us you’d spoken with her. She was totally insistent we saw you in person that evening, offered Toni’s help to get us there and back, and she was absolutely right about the urgency. Trouble was, we ran out of time to talk, we all had to get back to college before curfew. Now we’ve got the whole weekend to get to the bottom of this. Come on, Mike, spill the beans. What’s upset you so? Why is Libby so worried about you?”

I sighed, maybe a little over-dramatically, and deliberately looked away.

I still couldn’t work out how much they understood, or, indeed, whether they had any understanding of the problems behind the symptoms Libby had pointed out to them.

I’d been doing some more thinking during the day, cataloging my concerns, remembering a few things that hadn’t occurred to me during our surprise talk the evening before.

I hadn’t expected Libby to get them moving quite so quickly; even though she was quite the motivator, it was at least a point in their favor that they’d acted so urgently on her message.

But – and this seemed a vital point – they hadn’t taken action on their own initiative. Which suggested they either hadn’t been paying attention, or they hadn’t taken seriously my distancing myself until Libby had pointed it out to them.

I knew where I wanted to start; there was no point in coming at it indirectly.

Though I didn’t yet dare meet their eyes; I needed to get it off my chest without the distraction or interruption of two-way communication.

“Like I told you, I’ve been having a bad time with my self-confidence, and the February sex party just made it a whole lot worse. Did Libby explain that bit? How much it hurt me that you had gotten started without waiting for me, that you went about just like in the olden days before I was there, taking on all comers? I was already feeling low, and it hit me hard, seeing you taking guys by the hand and leading them to the nearest mattress, eager to get their dicks inside of you. Casual sex at its most casual. Jeez, you didn’t even speak to half of them before you were fucking. Even Candy was following your example. I felt like I didn’t know ANY of you. Watching that, I felt like I was just another convenient dick for you to exploit, and that the two of you would never settle for just me. I wasn’t there on time, so you immediately went for the backup plan of getting your pussies stuffed, rather than being patient and waiting until I arrived before you got started, like we have done most of last year. I’d thought we meant more than that to each other.”

Having delivered my monologue to the mattress, I finally looked up from the bed and at their faces.

They looked utterly horrified.

“NOOOOOOO! That’s SO not true!”

I shook my head in disagreement, “I’m sorry, Jess, but I’m telling it exactly like how I felt that night. I’m not saying it to play games or upset you. That’s how it looked from my point of view. You may have started off double dating with George and Candy for the usual warm-up, but you both took on six guys that night, one after another, like you did that first party I gatecrashed, and at the end of the night, you had nothing left for me. Remember? You were both too sore, you begged off me washing you in the shower, and you didn’t even want to cuddle close. Like you didn’t even want me there. I got the message, loud and clear.”

They both looked even more distressed.

Yeah, I was going for the over-the-top shock treatment deliberately, but for a (very brief) moment I almost hated myself for laying it on so thickly. But it wasn’t a minor issue that could be papered over; I’d felt totally rejected even if they hadn’t meant it that way. I was only hurting them a part of how much their behavior had hurt me.

“Oh shit! Was that why you headed back to college so soon Saturday, hardly waiting to tell us goodbye? We thought you had an urgent assignment?”

I managed not to roll my eyes or scornfully reply ‘no shit!’

“Yeah, I did have some studying to do, but it wouldn’t have been any problem for me to stay over Saturday night with you and still get it written up for the deadline; I just didn’t feel like I wanted to. I preferred to be on my own and lick my wounds.”

Jess’s eyes were burning into mine. She was now looking more pissed than shocked.

“Why didn’t you fucking SAY something? You know, maybe you could perhaps have let us know there was a problem we needed to work on.”

Remember, I did say I wasn’t blameless in this clusterfuck. Not speaking with them had been a definite bad on my part.

I held out my hands in acknowledgement of the validity of her criticism.

“I was feeling sorry for myself. I guess I was sulking. In my mind you were part of the problem, and I needed to be away from you. I’m sorry; I know it was absolutely the dumbest thing to do. I fucked up; it was no time to hold myself a pity party. I should have spoken out.”

Sis did roll her eyes and almost snorted, “You said it. Not only dumb, but exactly the thing we all promised we wouldn’t ever do again, jump to conclusions without talking it through first. Tell him, roomie.”

“Mike, we love making love with you. We love making love with each other. We love it even better when the three of us can please each other. That night of the party, we were just having some fun sex simply because it was a party. We didn’t mean to make you feel left out, we assumed you were also having a great time; we just didn’t realize we’d neglected you. We really missed sleeping with you Saturday night; it wasn’t nearly the same without you in our bed.”

“And we totally missed hanging out with you Saturday and Sunday. We actually LIKE spending time with you as a person; the guys at the parties are just hard dicks to get us off; I don’t even know the names of most of them, and I wouldn’t want to hang out with any of them. You, little brother, are the reason we come home weekends. Without you, we might as well stay at college. We’d never try to hurt you, and we’re so very sorry that we did.”

I touched them both on their hands to acknowledge their obviously genuine regret. “Okay, I appreciate that.”

Then I took a chug of my beer. There was still something more I needed to push them on.

“So, earlier tonight, was that having sex, or making love?”

Laura jumped straight back in. “You really need to ask? Holding each other afterwards? You making every effort to ensure I had absolutely the best time ever? Jess being with us? Knowing that both of you are going to be lying next to me all night, and be with me when I wake in the morning?”

I nodded; I felt the same way. Waking up with them felt so natural, so ... complete.

But part of me still had some residual doubt of what she was saying.

While I’d been ... plowing her furrow, I’d noticed something I wasn’t too sure about.

My inner idiot just had to speak out. Yeah, I know. Me over-thinking yet again.

“Sis, you had your eyes closed some of the time, hopefully just enjoying the feelings, but, at the time, I was wondering if you were imagining some big-dicked jock was doing you?”

I just knew, as soon as the words left my mouth, that I shouldn’t have uttered them.

A mistake.

Actually, a BFM. BIG fucking mistake.

Laura got a real angry and impatient expression on her face, like I was an incorrigible moron. Looking back, I guess I had behaved like one.

“Mike, for the last fucking time, please, can we clear up your stupid misconception about big dicks? First, you are bigger than average, so you’ve got nothing to worry about or be ashamed of. We’ve been with plenty of guys who are smaller than you, including at the parties at home, as even you must have realized by now. Second, we’ve both been with a few guys who were carrying eight, nine or ten inches, and they all relied on size rather than skill. It’s just as well they aren’t all that common, because ‘bigger is better’ is all a huge fucking snake-oil myth. To put it crudely, most of them just jammed it in and assumed we’d love it because it was big, but they didn’t have the first idea how to USE it on a girl. You DO know how to use it, partly because over the last year we’ve helped you learn more than a few tricks, mainly because you naturally want the girl to have a great time as well, but more importantly, you know how we work so well, you’re now fuckin’ awesome at foreplay and pushing our buttons, so we’re always more than ready to rock and roll by the time you do fill us up. Some of the bigger guys didn’t even check that we were wet enough before they rammed home, and it fricking HURT. One asshole even made me bleed, the bastard. Can I make it any clearer, Bro, we’ve tried big cocks and they don’t interest us? We just don’t look for them any longer, we don’t need to, and we don’t WANT to.”

Jess didn’t seem to think I was yet sufficiently convinced, but she did take a less confrontational approach. She shifted slightly to get closer, and stroked my face gently with her fingertips, making me look deep into her eyes. I could see nothing but love and concern.