Chapter 16

(This chapter is respectfully and gratefully dedicated to reader Adam, as a mere gesture of my gratitude for his gentle – and almost saintly in terms of politeness and patience – nudging and encouragement to me to get on with the story after more than three years of writer’s block caused by stupidly writing myself into a corner and not knowing how to get out again... )

As I drove back from Waltham through the Boston Sunday afternoon traffic, I made a mental note to beg Libby Van Allen to do all she could to help straighten out Laura’s underlying issues.

Our conversations of the weekend had made it abundantly clear to me that Sis still had unresolved issues about the past three years, both concerning what had been done to her by our parents bringing her in to the sex parties, and her consequential (and almost obsessive) promiscuity at college.

She’d confessed that she’d always known that going with men she’d only just met was risky, but she’d still gone ahead and done it, time after time. How she’d avoided either picking up some disease, or getting herself physically damaged, I just couldn’t imagine. Heaven only knew how many times she’d put herself in harm’s way...

I was confident she was in a much better place than she had been her freshman year, (thank you for being her true friend, Jess!) but she still seemed too vulnerable for me to have complete peace of mind. And that introduced an element of risk for Jess – if Laura set a bad example, as had happened at the January and February parties, then it was likely that Jess would follow, out of misplaced loyalty or just habit.

But the self-image elements that made her vulnerable needed some kind of fixing, preferably without changing her naturally generous and gregarious character. Jess and I love her as she is, crazy impulses and all, and we want her to stay that way.

I had total confidence in Libby to find a way forward. She had already proven herself to be a true friend to all of us.

If Libby couldn’t personally assist Sis in her working through the items we’d identified, (and I was hopeful she could), at least she’d be able to help us find a sympathetic adviser, though I felt we’d made sufficient progress for us not to have to bring in a professional. Sis had made it crystal clear that ‘therapy’ was not anywhere she wanted to go, which meant we needed to keep it informal – and certainly not make a huge issue and risk exacerbating things.

So our relationship was back to looking good – certainly many times better than it had since the fiasco of early February and my being overtaken by self-doubt, which had morphed into doubting the girls – and worse – letting them know I mistrusted them.

Also on the upside, over the past forty-eight hours holed up at the Westin, we three had achieved a huge physical and emotional re-affirmation of our love.

The sex had been amazing – we’d done it all: hot monkey sex, copulation, fornication, screwing, but almost every time the act had morphed into slow tender love-making – even when I’d taken one of them hard and fast, we’d cuddled up afterwards, prolonging the intimate contact until my dick finally shrank and slipped out of whichever warm sanctuary it had occupied. I’d made myself some great visual and audio memories – there’s nothing more emotionally satisfying for a guy than pumping your seed into the girl that you love as she achieves a HUGE orgasm around your cock.

I’d achieved that feat – or close enough to make no difference – with both Jess and Laura a couple of times since Friday evening; there was no doubting their climaxes came easier when the other was assisting me in stimulating their other erogenous zones. They knew each other’s bodies almost better than they did their own; but the familiarity didn’t seem to cut into the joyous enthusiasm and excitement one bit. Their delight in getting the other one off was palpable. They might revel in receiving pleasure, but even more did they exult in giving it.

Oh, I’ll admit my dick was sore and I’d noticed, as we sat in the coffee shop, that they weren’t entirely comfortable in their chairs either. We’d scratched our itches so much we’d almost rubbed them raw – but any discomfort was totally worth it.

What with all those thoughts, discoveries and recollections running through my mind, it was almost a surprise to find myself back at my dorm.

It may only be fifteen miles from Waltham to downtown Boston, but it’s not normally what you’d describe as a relaxing drive. Especially winter Sundays, when people who don’t drive a lot in the city for some strange reason take it into their heads to get out on the roads, fed up with being confined indoors for so long.

And I’d done the drive mostly on blind instinct, my conscious thoughts concentrated almost entirely on analyzing the events of the past, and virtually no part of me paying a whole lot of attention to the road and surrounding traffic.

So, I breathed a quick prayer of thanksgiving to whoever watches over besotted lovers and brings them safely home.

Reaching my room, I called the girls the very moment I took off my coat, eager to hear their voices again.

Sis picked up first ring and put me on speaker; with the tension between us resolved, their obvious and unfeigned delight at my call seemed just like old times.

I’m guessing my voice too sounded more than upbeat. Because I was feeling pretty good.

My angst about Laura and Jess’s emotional commitment to me had been laid to rest; in my ‘pity party’ mood the last few weeks I’d seriously questioned their love for me, but the genuineness of their response these past couple of days had persuaded me that I’d merely been confusing love and lust.

I now knew for sure the February sex party absolutely hadn’t been a case of them no longer loving me. The problem had been I hadn’t arrived home early enough to start off with them as we usually did, so they’d begun doing early what they would have done later. They now wished they would have waited on me, and accepted they’d messed up. I had their solemn vows it wouldn’t happen again. They’d enjoyed some great recreational sex that evening, but that’s all it had been. Recreational sex, not love making, like we’d been doing THIS weekend.

Our conversation didn’t go anywhere near Mom and Dad; we’d addressed those issues and agreed we would be asking Libby for help.

It was all about us and when we would see each other again. After their surprise visit Thursday, they offered to come over mid-week, but admitted they could certainly use the time better to get ahead of their course reading and assignments.

We’d lost our study time Thursday through Sunday this one weekend because of the more urgent need to put our relationship back on track, but, like Jess said, just wishing to be on the Dean’s List never made it happen – hard work did. As Jess was totally reliant on her full-ride scholarship, and Laura and I needed ours, keeping those grades just as high as we could was the Number One priority for all of us. Laura and I had a college fund courtesy of our grandparents, but scholarship money supplemented it so we could afford to run cars and splurge on the occasional luxury – like a weekend at the Westin.