Equal Shares
Copyright© 2006 by steveh11
Chapter 33
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 33 - This is a love story, an erotic story, that doesn't feature kids of school or university age; it isn't a coming of age story. This story actually features people who are 'grown up'. It's a slow story, about a man who begins as emotionally dead, but who has the support of a few people who can help him, just enough support. It also tells the story of those around him. New chapters will be posted weekly.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual DomSub Safe Sex Oral Sex Anal Sex Masturbation Slow
At The Firm, a couple of days later, Anne sat at her desk, leaning back, eyes unfocussed, forehead scrunched up, deep in thought. It was a pose that everyone in her area knew, but in this case they'd have been surprised at what she was thinking of.
Anne was still unsure about Denise and Stan. 'Just how would I react if Stan and Denise wanted some private time together? No, erase that. If Stan and Denise had sex together? Made love together? How would I feel?'
What Anne was imagining was Stan and Denise, bodies entwined, moving together, thrusting, panting. Anyone watching might have thought she was working hard on a problem, because there was a sheen of moisture on her face which was slightly flushed, and her respiration was shallow and fairly rapid. She'd been turned on by the thought, she realized. She was a bit surprised to find such a voyeuristic tendency in herself, it was something she hadn't experienced before. Anne put that to the back of her mind.
'Stan. Denise. Together. Can I not only agree to it, but actually invite it... instigate it?' she wondered, sitting up.
'It's a bit... extreme, isn't it?' she continued to herself. 'Is that what I've got to do?' She took a sip of her coffee, sitting beside her keyboard, and was surprised to find it stone cold. 'How long have I been sitting here doing nothing?'
'I'd best be getting on with some work, ' she thought, 'I'll have to spend some time on this later!'
Knowing inside that she was only putting the problem off, she nevertheless turned back to her 'real-work' problems, leaving her personal ones in abeyance.
Denise, too, was preoccupied. She'd arrived a few minutes late, and had scrambled to catch up quickly. Now, for the first time that day, she was able to grab a coffee and think about things.
She knew that she had a decision to make, but she was deadly afraid to make it, either way. She didn't really want to make the decision at all, but she knew that she must.
Elaine, Susan and she had fallen into a comfortable triad. The other two lived together, and Denise visited twice that week, when they'd all enjoyed each other. Elaine visited Denise alone a couple of times as well, and once Susan had come around, grinning from ear to ear and waving a bottle of wine. "Surprise!" she'd cried when Denise opened the door, and Denise reflected that it had been indeed — a very pleasant one.
It was the first time Susan and Denise had been together alone, and they were a little hesitant at first. But soon enough that hesitancy had melted in the alcohol (and the heat it produced!) and they'd enjoyed each other's bodies and each other's love, to the fullest.
But, comfortable as she was with Elaine and Susan, she was still in love with Stan. It was an admission that had been hard won from her heart by her conscience, and now she had to see where it was going to take her.
Stan, meanwhile, was wondering how to broach the subject of Denise to Anne. 'How do I tell her I want another woman?' he wondered. 'And how do I ask Denise, come to that? I can't just wander up to her and say "Hey, fancy joining Anne and me?" now can I?'
Well. There was one thing he could do — he could try spending time with both of them. Tonight. At the Mitre.
He went to see Anne, first.
"Anne, d'you fancy a drink tonight, down at the Mitre?"
Anne looked up from the schematic drawing on her PC, turning her chair towards him.
"Middle of the week? It's unusual..." Stan thought for a moment that Anne was going to say "No", but she paused and then... "Yes, I think I feel like a night out, and the Mitre's a nice place. Yes! Okay, do you want me to drive, or are we biking in?"
Stan hadn't thought of that. He pondered for a moment. Denise didn't have a pushbike, did she? He couldn't remember for sure.
"No, I think I'll drive, Anne. It's okay, I'm not trying to get you drunk so I can take advantage of you!"
"Oh, as if!" Anne replied, with a wink. "That's okay, Stan. I won't make you ride your bike if you're prepared to drive me to the bar, I suppose!"
"Good. I thought we could invite Denise, too. She's seemed a little withdrawn."
Anne drew a breath, and Stan wondered if she'd baulk after all and he'd have to re-think his idea, but then Anne said, "You, me and Denise? That sounds like a good idea, Stan," and she stood, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, quickly but with feeling.
Even with all that had happened between them, Stan blushed — after all, they weren't completely private. It was their workplace after all. 'What if anybody sees? Oh, the hell with it — they'll have to get over it!'
Stan's next objective was Denise, but first he had to find her. Eventually he ran her to earth, once again underneath a desk in Sales.
Stan waited patiently for her to finish, and was rewarded with a smile when she saw him.
"Stan, what can I do for you? Screwed up your PC again?"
"Huh. I haven't done that for ages, and that wasn't me anyway — must have been defective software. No, I wanted to ask you something."
"I've got to go back to the office, Stan. Talk on the way?" Stan nodded, and fell in beside her once they reached the corridor.
"So, what then?" she asked him.
"Anne and I are going for a drink at the Mitre tonight. I wondered if you'd like to come, too?"
Denise stopped and looked at Stan, who definitely looked back. She was wearing 'blouse and trousers' again, but the blouse was a lovely pale green one which didn't hide her bust, while not flaunting it, and her light tan trousers were topped off with a belt that, with the cut of the trousers, camouflaged her waistline. Topping it all off was her hair, long red locks pulled back into a simple ponytail. The outfit was simple but effective.
"You, me and Anne? Okay, Stan. What sort of time?"
"I'll pick up Anne at about half past seven, and we'll come around and pick you up on the way to the pub. If you'd like, that is?"
Denise, too, paused for a moment before assenting.
"Yes, Stan. That'll be lovely! I look forward to it — see you soon after that, then!"
Anne was excited.
Stan had come to her with the idea of a midweek drink, with Denise, and at first she'd baulked, due to tomorrow being a workday. But then she'd realized what he'd said — him, her and Denise.
While Anne wasn't entirely sure of Stan's motives in inviting her, the fact that Denise would be coming along too was an opportunity not to be missed, given her earlier decision. Now all she had to do was open her mouth and speak.
All.
'Huh. Goodness, I hope I can come up with the right words!' she worried. 'Well, getting dressed up has always helped me relax in the past — let's do it now.'
Anne knew she couldn't go 'all-out' tonight, it was only the Mitre and she didn't want to be conspicuously overdressed. But that didn't mean that a nice top and a good pair of sexy jeans wouldn't work.
Anne had found a dark brown satin tank top, with double straps and a braided front which exposed a little flesh and looked very sexy. She also had a fine pair of jeans, which she loved, and some nice soft leather boots. 'Nice!' she thought as she pirouetted in front of her mirror.
As Anne sat fidgeting in her chair, she thought about how she could broach the subject. She really didn't have any idea, there didn't seem to be a natural way to start a conversation off.
She stood and walked over to her bookcase, pulling out a Heinlein. She opened a page more-or-less at random and began reading, visiting her old friend Friday. She was still reading, not really taking anything in, when her doorbell rang.
She opened the door and Stan was there, in (for once) a nice tan shirt, not just a work one or a T, and, wonder of wonders, he was wearing a leisure pair of trousers, not just another work pair, in a darker tan colour.
Anne's insistence throughout the summer on the two of them getting some exercise on their bikes had given Stan a semblance of colour. He'd improved his fitness a little overall too, despite his objections, so he looked really quite good, his shirtsleeves rolled up in the relatively warm air of that Wednesday evening.
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