Spars

13.

Reality Check, Please

Okay, priorities. I spotted an apple charging cable on the kitchen bench and plugged in the phone. Took a second to message a cheery greeting to Taylor (

I'm not dead

), fired up Uber, cursed when I saw there was going to be both surge pricing

and

a fifteen minute delay, then decided to hit the shower. Luckily, Alexa was more Whole Foods than Body Shop in the bathroom department, so I got to emerge smelling more minty than fruity.

For whatever reason, I'd neatly folded last night's clothes. When we've a moment, there's something pretty disturbing about that, but time was pressing. I draw the line at yesterday's briefs, so, after a short internal debate about wearing Alexa's underpants, I decided to go commando. It's one of the reasons I wear 501's. I know zippers are a slightly weird obsession of mine, but I've preferred button fly since I watched

There's Something About Mary

at an impressionable age.

Spotting a Prius pulling up outside, I unhooked my phone, shoved my pants into my jacket pocket and headed out. The door latched closed behind me and I clattered down the stairs and out. I made it to the coffee shop on time, barely, and grabbed my apron before stepping in besides Jack, the early riser and meathead that scalds the coffees of most early shifts, "'Sup bro?" Jack is is neither African American nor twelve, but makes up for it by using their slang and kids insight respectively.

"Hi Jack. How's it going?" "Pretty fine man..." And that's about it. The late rush was ebbing, so we worked in symphony for a while till 10:30 came around, and Jack stashed his apron and headed off. I finally got time to make myself a ristretto, basically an espresso with half the water, useful when there are too many witnesses around to use a cattle prod on yourself. All tiredness banished, I surveyed my domain. Jack might me a crap barista, but he cleaned up well, and there was little in need of attention till the next order came in.

"

Somebody

got lucky last night!" chirped a vaguely English/Australian voice behind me. That would be Danielle ("Call me "Dani"), the only human being working the counter in the sweatshop. She was from Wellington, which I regretfully knew was the capital of NuZilland, the country she came from. Wellington apparently exists to be at the extreme end of every conversation you ever have about weather. People from New Zealand are mildly more irritating than missionaries, but have remarkably similar conversational styles.

"What! no!" Dani had left a fiancé behind in Wellington, Jayden. Jayden played rugby for Victoria University, and based on the pictures I'd seen on clandestine overnight visits, he was roughly the size of a small car. We were friends with benefits, Dani and I, but kept it entirely sub rosa. It was a pretty infrequent thing, always initiated by her, usually when she'd rowed with Jayden, and I was vaguely concerned that he might jump on a plane for a romantic reconciliation and I'd end up cowering in a closet for days whilst they worked through their problems.

"Yes, you did." Dani was not to be denied. "You've still not stitched that tear in your jeans and you've come to work with no tighty whities on." Ah. The perils of being known too well. "Erm, okay." I looked around, and there were no other staff nearby, but customers were heading for the counter, which let me off the hook for a while. Dani saw them and moved towards the register, firing "I want details at lunch time" over her shoulder at me. "Right."

Lunch time was a half hour snatched sometime around two. We usually liberated sandwiches from the counter and sat around the back of the shop, at the loading dock. It was a pretty grim space, but offered privacy and some shelter from the usual rain ("Call this rain? In Wellington it's twice as hard and comes in from the side." "Like Jayden?" "Cheeky bastard.") Dani was relentless, quickly establishing a) Alexa, b) Dinner, c) Overnight. I managed to hold back on the rope thing and the details of the sex, mainly because I hadn't really unpacked it myself and also because I couldn't work out how to say "She gave me a hand job and I went down on her" without being mocked.

Dani was good at reading between the lines. She knew something was going on, and had spotted how smitten I was. Once she waterboarded where I'd met Alexa out of me, she realized she'd taken the fateful coffee order. "Oooh, she's fit that one. Seen her a couple of times, usually comes in with a pale blonde chick." Jill I guessed. I'd all but forgotten her, but realized Alexa must have left her to come to me the previous night. A tiny thread of jealousy touched me, like a jellyfish's tendril.

Mercifully Dani eased up on the interrogation as our break came to an end. She knew I was seeing Alexa for dinner, and genuinely seemed to wish me well, though she warned me sternly that Alexa looked to have a "Dark Side". I'd kinda figured that out myself, but it's always good to have a friend in your corner. The rest of the afternoon wormed past. Baristaing is hardly enthralling, and I was hardly going to entertain myself writing my phone number on cups, was I? I did think of putting Dani's number on a cute guy's cup, but figured why borrow trouble.

After hitting the campus for a chat with my supervisor, I went back to my apartment. Lulu, my part time cat (I think she's an opera singer the rest of the time) was not in evidence, which was ominous. Anyway, one problem at a time. I dressed in a variation of yesterday's clothes and clean underwear, grabbed a decent California red and an extremely decent New Zealand white in case fish was on the menu again, and headed back to Alexa's, my pulse beating at a steadily increasing tempo.

It was 7.35 according to my phone as we pulled up and I farewelled Tony the Uber driver. I'd made a point of remembering the loft number, and was gratifyingly buzzed in promptly. I could have taken the lift, but needed to burn off some energy so I skipped up three flights of stairs to find the door wide open. I practically skipped inside, butterflies churning away, and stopped dead as I saw who was at the stove. Jill. There are moments where you want to use profanity but can't. This was one of them.

14

Jill Again

To her credit, she saw my disappointment right away, and gave me a mock sad face as she put down her spatula and walked over and gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek. I'd rallied, somewhat and waited for Jill to fill me in on the latest plot twist. "Alexa's running late, not run out on you" she smiled. "She'll be here pretty soon. Is that wine?" Smart girl. I held up both bottles. "Ooh, is the white cold?" Very smart. "It could do with a few minutes in the freezer. The red's more or less good to go, just needs to breathe for a while." Okay, you got me. Coffee

and

wine.

We opened the red and put the white in the freezer. I set a timer on my phone, which reminded me I'd not called Taylor. "Just a sec" I asked Jill, and sent a hold the phone message to my sister (

still alive, back for seconds, promise details tomorrow

). "So. It's good to see you again" Jill gave me that grin again. "Really?" "Well, yes. Unanticipated, but a pleasure." A smile is so much nicer than a grin. Against all odds, I liked Jill. She went back to the stove and did something complex with the pan. I believe it's called stirring, but do go read a cook book (cookery bookery? cookie bookie?) if you want the blow by blow on dinner prep.

My phone binged, and I got the white out of the freezer. Jill nodded at a cupboard and I found wine glasses. She went for white and I was up for red, so both bottles got sampled. I'm not a big drinker, I've seen what it can do, but good wine is civilization in a bottle. Jill gave a final stir to the pan and covered it with a lid. Apparently it could manage by itself for a while now, so she led me over to the couch that I had perched on the edge of less than 24 hours before, and we both settled back and examined each other.

She looked good, if I'm being honest. A white untucked round bottom shirt, henley fronted (with all the buttons undone) over a pleated moss green mid length skirt that emphasized her long legs, made slightly edgy by olive patent pull on ankle boots. As she leaned forward her shirt billowed to show me a halter necked black bra, sheer enough for her pale nipples to show through. She wasn't flashing me purposely, I don't think, but we'd obviously both expected some quality time with Alexa, so there was an edge to the smiles we shared. Me, I'd pretty much dressed for easy access, a long sleeved tee shirt that worked with jeans and the goto leather jacket, now thrown over a peg behind the door. I'd have tried harder if I'd known there was going to be a beauty contest.

Jill nailed it immediately: "I bet you're thinking 'Why is Jill cock-blocking me?'" I was. "Not at all." I lied. "Well I'm not. I had this date with Alexa set up a week ago. You're blocking

me.

" Ah. "When Alexa called this afternoon to ask if it was okay for you to join us, I was picking out

lingerie"

. Wait. This afternoon? Jill read my face. "She invited you this morning didn't she? You must have done well last night." Bitter, much? Still the girl had cause. I wasn't going to leave, but I did sympathize. So we sat there on the sofa for a while, both in our best underwear, looking like the bridesmaids of Frankenstein.

Who arrived. I'm just going to take a moment here to acknowledge the physical impact her presence had on me. I felt it like the pull of the tide when you're wading in the ocean, a force outside your control that threatens to drag you under. Yes, or a major crush. Thanks. Anyway, Jill had her shit better under control and glared from her end of the couch. Alexa read it right away, took Jill's wine glass away and set it on the table, then leaned over her and pulled her in for a deep kiss. It was incredibly romantic, until she reached over and snagged me and dragged me into her free arm.

So there we were. My girlfriend (okay, that's a stretch), her girlfriend (definitely not a stretch), and me (the, kinda sorta, boyfriend, that's more of a girlfriend anyway) all cuddling together on the couch. Jill wasn't saying anything, mainly because Alexa was still kissing her, but she wasn't fighting it either. I ended up with an arm around each of them. It should have felt strange I suppose, either that or I should have been getting excited about a three-way, but instead it felt right. Alexa's hand snaked around the back of my head and pulled me in and for a moment all three of us were kissing together. Jill's arm came around me and I felt her strength as she pulled me further into the embrace.

Be careful what you wish for.

15. Doubling Down

Ever kissed two people at once? Felt two tongues in your mouth? (OK, technically three). We sure as fuck weren't in Kansas anymore. I closed my eyes and relaxed into it, and felt one of the dynamic duo withdraw. I was past caring, losing myself into the embrace, well you know how I feel about kissing. Strong arms came around me and my neck was bent back to the point of near pain. A buzzer sounded, and the lips eased up and withdrew. I opened my eyes and gazed into Jill's smiling face. "Surprise!" she breathed at me. Of course. My rival kisses better than I do.

Jill scooped up her drink from the table and headed over to the stove. "Alexa, will you set the table" she ordered. Alexa was looking steadily at me, a slightly worried smile on her face. I don't know why people do that. As if I was going to flounce out of there, or throw a hissy fit or something. I gave Alexa a stern look, raised an eyebrow and mouthed the salient word from last night at her "Anything". Suddenly confident she grinned at me and pulled me off the couch for a hard embrace and the inevitable cock squeeze.

Dinner was chicken in tomato sauce, which tasted better than it sounds. Alexa joined me in drinking red wine which made me childishly happy, Jill took on the role of designated adult, and moved the light conversation forward. It really wasn't the occasion to say "Hey, you kiss good. Me confused." But the thought was there. I got the impression that Jill might have dark roots for such a pale blonde, there were a few little smiles that seemed to be anticipating something not yet in evidence. Alexa ate with gusto, sparing with the wine but seriously doing justice to the food. I noticed myself checking her regularly, like a Labrador idly watching as it's human chats with another human.

Once I'd caught myself doing that, I realized Jill was doing the same thing, just at a more relaxed tempo.

Interesting

. You'll no doubt have worked out the hierarchy by now, but it was actually a bit more nuanced than it looked. Okay, if there was a pile, I was at the bottom of it, but the relationship between Jill and Alexa felt more like a tag team than a vanilla girl girl couple. Jill was nobody's doormat; she looked placid, but there was some heat in the mix, carbon steel under the trim lace. And she kissed like a linebacker. Don't ask me how I know, just take my word for it.

We sat back after the food was gone, chatting easily. It turned out Jill was from one of those cold places just below Canada, which accounted for the lack of tan I guessed. Alexa was pretty subdued, looking from Jill to me as we did the chitchat dance. I remembered small talk not being her thing, and reached out to pat her hand, which earned me a smile and a fierce look. Don't pet the alpha, I guess. She'd put on some fairly chill jazz music and with the second glass of wine working it's magic on me, I was content to sit there, occasionally hearing that old Talking Heads song in my inner ear "

And you may ask yourself 'How did I get here'.

" It's a legitimate question.

After a laid back twenty minutes or so, Jill turned to Alexa. "You still want to try that variation?" Alexa nodded. Jill glanced over at me. "You okay with this?" I looked at Alexa, who nodded solemnly at me. "Sure."

Good boy

. I shook myself, nipping childishness in the bud. "Can I help?" That got me a big smile from both of them, so I stood up as they did. "Just tell me what to do." And there she was. Alexa in her element, given permission and about to perpetrate wickedness. Even though Jill had made almost all of the conversation that evening, at that moment Alexa

owned

the room, and everyone in it.

16.

Hooks And Ladders

Apparently, the beam that had loomed over me the previous night didn't get used all that often. I was sent up a stepladder to bring down the harnesses that had been draped over it, presumably to avoid them giving people who crossed the room without caution black eyes. Meantime, Jill had sat down and pulled off her boots and socks, but was now just sitting there looking over at Alexa and I. "What's the matter?" Alexa asked. "I'm not going to be the only person in the room in just my underwear." "OK" said Alex, and raised her legs one after another for me to pull off her biker boots, skinned her jeans away and did that complicated crossed armed magic that removes tees without disturbing hair or make up.

It was unnecessary magic, given she wasn't wearing makeup and you've really got to work hard to mess up cornrows, but maybe she liked to show off. Which left me. Oops. Houston, we have a tiny problem.

Remember, I was expecting a candlelit supper. I'd gotten my head around the fact that Alexa was pretty much the top guy in our relationship, and I wanted to amuse her as well as show her that I was cool with it. Whatever. I was out of options. Off came my boots, my tee-shirt (the old fashioned guy way, grabbing the back collar and yanking it over my head, so that I ended up looking like a kitten who's Mom used too much saliva). And then I froze. Both Jill and Alexa were now looking at me steadily, alert that something was off, but not sure what. Alexa opened her mouth to ask what the problem was, but I stopped her with a raised hand.

The idea that had seemed so cool back at my apartment had been to wear a thong that Dani had left behind on one of her rare visits. I'd washed it, but not gotten around to handing it back. Truth be told, I rather liked it. It was nude, a pretty good match for my skin tone, had two straps, one lace and one elastic circling my waist from the see through triangle that barely covered my dick (at least I wasn't hairy down there) to the smaller triangle that gave me that distinctive whale tail at the small of my back. At least I didn't have a tattoo there, though I suppose the night was young. Dental floss took what felt like a straight line from front to back, and bit in enough to keep me aware of what was about to be revealed. Go ahead, laugh away. I pulled down, then stepped out of my jeans and straightened to face the music.

Alexa looked pleased. She was standing there in a neon sports bra with matching boy shorts and that cocky stance, looking at me with an expression that made me feel I'd done a clever thing (

What a good boy

). Jill, well, Jill looked interested, like maybe there was hope for me after all. She stood up, barefoot but still dressed, and walked over to stand close to me. I don't suppose you get a lot of personal space allocated when you're wearing thong underwear, but she was right inside it. She ran her hand around my waist, stroking the fabric and smiled. "You look lovely," she breathed. "Help me take mine off."

Gah. I reached out and lifted her shirt as though she was a little girl, raising it over her head and giving her space to pull out her arms, then turned to place it gently on the back of the couch. When I turned back Jill was facing away from me to expose the hooks and zipper of her skirt. She was still leaning into me, and I was becoming aware that my underwear didn't have a lot of material. I managed to unzip the skirt and squatted down to hold it at knee height whilst she stepped out of it. Which gave me a box seat view of

her

undergarments.

I'd known about the black bra. Without the shirt, I saw that it was semi transparent lace, with a back strap that was a string of tiny pearls. Between the breasts a ribbon bow was tied, needing only a tug to release them. Her briefs were also black, also lace. Their main part was about six inches deep, quite sheer, running round her as a broad ribbon from just below her navel to just above her immaculately groomed vagina. From the fabric emerged another string of pearls that ran straight down and under and up, tied at the top of her derriere with another silk bow. The pearls lay captured between her labia, glistening and half buried in the moist flesh. She really

had

been picking out lingerie.

Game over. I'd not even known I was playing, but I'd been beaten into submission by fragments of lace and two strings of pearls. I straightened, my eyes wandering over Jill's body as I did, feeling humbled in my slutty thong. Jill saw the surrender in my face and smiled magnanimously at me. She looked over at Alexa and moved her hand as if to say "May I?" Alexa, of course, just nodded. Jill reached out and collected her trophy, gently stroking the shaft through the thin fabric. "We're going have such fun," she said brightly, before looking back at Alexa and saying "I

like

him. Can we keep him?"

17. Getting Roped In

For all Jill was wearing lingerie, classy lingerie, she was radiating power at that moment. I was held by her hand on my cock, gentle pressure through the thin fabric somehow preventing me from moving. She was quietly enjoying the moment, gently smiling at me as my status settled in.

I know, right? Pale skin, a french braid, killer underwear, a zen master calm: I was helpless. Meanwhile the wolf in the corner cleared her throat, and after a final squeeze, Jill moved towards the harness Alexa had arranged. There were two rings suspended from the beam, and Alexa indicated the nearest of them. Jill moved docilely beneath it, holding her hands together behind her back and lifting her arms.