After the End

Author's note:

This is the third chapter of

After the End - Part 3

, the final novel in my dystopian erotic romance trilogy. If you enjoy intensely provocative sex with a power play twist, handsome male heroes in emotionally satisfying relationships, and unconventional happily ever afters -- you are in the right place! These books are full-length, publication-quality, and currently being offered free of charge. :)

Descriptions of each book can be found in my bio by clicking my user name. Feel free to drop in on specific chapters or sections based on your mood or interest, but the dramatic tension is strongest if you start from the beginning of Part 1. As always, I appreciate hearing your reactions and feedback. It truly does help me create the best stories that I can for readers to enjoy.

Content warning: This chapter depicts a brief discussion of past parental neglect and death of immediate family members.

Tags for this chapter include: #bisexual male, #dystopia, #novel, #romantic, #married, #threesome, #submission, #male submissive, #tickling, #friends

_______________

Julian:

It was predictable that Avery would start spinning out shortly before Graham was due to meet us for the second time. Our first threesome had been such a success; I should have known there would be backlash, no matter how careful we'd been and how at ease he'd seemed afterward.

"I don't think we should do this," my husband announced, coming to a halt beside the desk where I was studying an operations manual Graham had let me borrow. He'd been pacing for the past ten minutes, which wasn't unusual in itself. But this sounded like more than pre-performance jitters.

I put the manual down. "What do you mean? You've been excited for days about him coming over."

"I just think...maybe we should wait."

"We can, of course, if that's what you want," I reasoned. "But it went very well last time. What are you worried about?"

"I'm not worried," Avery argued, though his tense jaw and anxiously defensive tone belied his words, and he kept his gaze away from mine.

"Ok..." It never helped to exhibit frustration in these situations, so I summoned my patience. "Why don't you want to do this then?"

"It just --" He aborted the sentence and offered another vague non-explanation. "I don't think I can."

I suppressed a sigh. The only way to get to the bottom was to keep digging. "Did something happen between you and Graham?"

That drew a brief glance, but his focus darted away again immediately. "What? No. Like what?"

"I have no idea, but earlier today you were looking forward to this, and now it's the opposite, so I'm trying to think of possible reasons for the change."

"Nothing happened." He sounded strangely guilty for all that I believed him.

I swiveled on the wooden stool to face him fully. "I'm sure Graham will understand if you need to cancel. But something's obviously bothering you, and if it's about our arrangement with him, it's important that you and I be able to talk about it. That's how we keep our relationships within the boundaries."

Avery picked up a well-worn Robert Heinlein novel and fidgeted with it for a moment, then shrugged. "There's nothing to talk about if we're not doing it."

I cocked my head and studied him, but I didn't have enough clues to decipher this riddle. He'd pined over the Bravo Company captain for weeks before I arranged a meet-up, and he'd clearly loved the sex we'd had together. Graham had been great about calming his nerves and caring for his emotional safety. Why wouldn't he want to continue?

I stood and moved to sit at the foot of the bed. "Come here," I invited, and reluctantly Avery sat next to me. I propped my right arm against his back, resting my hand on the quilt.

"Babe, I know how much you enjoyed our first meeting. Whatever your reasons for wanting to avoid this one, they're going to be true whether we sleep with him or not. So it's still going to affect me, and I'd rather you just tell me."

He fanned the pages of the book a few times. When he answered, he seemed less agitated, but he still didn't look at me. "I didn't want you to...be upset."

I was starting to get alarmed, but I kept my voice composed. "Why would I be upset?"

He didn't say anything, and the memories that rose into the silence were some of my darkest.

"I'm not going to throw you out, if that's what you're concerned about," I told him quietly. He would know exactly what I meant.

Avery let out a stressed breath, then he abandoned the book and took my free hand, leaning against my shoulder. "No, Julian, it's not that. I don't -- I wouldn't do that. I don't even want to."

"Then what is it, babe? Please."

He hesitated for a long time, but at last soft words materialized. "I don't want to do anything with him, without you. But even if you're there...it doesn't seem fair when -- it feels like this."

There was another pause, but I left the space empty until his confession resumed.

"It wasn't like this with Vik. I mean, obviously I like him a lot, and it was super hot to be with him. But I didn't...

like

him. I didn't...feel things, just because he looked at me, or talked to me, or came anywhere near me." He took another breath. "If we sleep with other people, it's supposed to be just for sex."

Well, this wasn't exactly news. I wouldn't have expected that his intense attraction to Graham was strictly physical. And they'd plainly connected during our "date," before we even got into bed.

"Avery, it's alright for you to feel that way," I assured him, squeezing his shoulders for emphasis. "I'm not upset. Don't you remember the conversation we had on Vik's birthday? Feelings are involuntary. They're not against the rules, either, unless they're going to interfere with our marriage."

He still sounded unsure. "But that was about Vik. He wasn't with anyone, so it didn't matter if he had feelings for me."

"Let me ask you this, then: Do you like Graham as much as you like me?"

Avery looked at me as if I'd lost touch with reality. "Of course not."

"Ok. Has your interest in him made you less interested in me?"

"No!"

I pressed on, needing to make my point. "Do you think that if we keep spending time with him, it'll cause you to like me less, or cause you to want to be with him instead of me?"

He was growing distressed, and his hand tightened around mine. "Julian, no. Nothing will make me want to be anywhere except with you. I don't like you even saying that."

"I'm not suggesting I think it would, babe," I soothed. "I'm just illustrating that it's ok for you to like him. Our agreement is that our relationships with Graham will stay beneath the umbrella of our marriage. To me, that's what I'm hearing. I don't see why you shouldn't enjoy spending time with him, as long as it remains within those boundaries."

Avery just watched me for a minute, as if still waiting for jealousy to materialize.

"Honestly," I added, "I wouldn't be surprised if he likes you too. Maybe not quite to the same extent. But Vik never kissed you like that. Or called you 'baby.'"

My partner's gaze darted away, hiding beneath dark lashes, but there was a clear reaction in the curve of his cheeks. "It didn't...bother you?"

"No. I thought it was sweet. It's gratifying for me to give you joy, even through another man. That isn't just true about sex."

Some of the tension finally left his shoulders, and he adjusted his grip to interlace our fingers. "So it's really ok," he concluded tentatively, his thumb tracing my hand as if for the sheer reassurance of his skin touching mine.

"It's really ok," I confirmed. "And would it be ok with you, if I felt about Graham the way you do? I'm not saying that's the case. But if we proceed along this route, it's a possibility."

There was a longer pause. Surprisingly, Avery's reply was peaceful, even a little wistful. "Yeah. I think it would." His fingertips pressed my knuckles, feeling out the familiar shape of my bones. "I wanted him to be doing things with me. But I also...wanted to see you with him."

"Maybe you will tonight, then," I told him with a smile.

He returned it, and I leaned in for a kiss. He met me almost with relief, and I caressed his lips tenderly.

"One more thing," I told him when we separated. "Please remember that our arrangement with Graham doesn't involve any commitment unless we all discuss and agree on it. I would hate to see you get hurt, because you got more attached than he did. Try to calibrate."

He nodded, so I hugged his shoulders briefly. "I love you, Avery."

"Love you too," he answered. "Thanks for...you know." He made a self-deprecating gesture. "Dealing with me."

I pressed my lips to his once more. "Thank you for trusting me."

Sex with Graham that night was as exciting and satisfying as it had been the first time. He seemed quite happy to see Avery, and not unhappy to see me either, judging by the way his gaze lingered on mine, and by the scorching kisses we ended up sharing. He partnered so well with Avery: encouraging him when he felt vulnerable, enthusing over him shamelessly, eagerly playing up to his turn-ons as he discovered them. And always drawing him in, with a joke, a smile, a caress... Graham shared affection so naturally, I felt stilted by comparison, even with my own partner. It didn't inspire anything like envy, though. I saw no signs that either of them wanted to exclude me from their interactions. Avery still looked to me as his north star, and Graham showed not a hint of possessiveness either. He appeared to like my husband because he

was

my husband -- someone whole and content and grounded; someone who loved and was beloved. Someone who gave from abundance, not lack.

Because of our prior experience with Vik and my trust in Graham's judgment, I was comfortable having less structure during our meetings than we typically had with our previous partner. Although Graham willingly participated in our power games, he didn't express a defined need for them like Vik had. Graham's style was more about fun and spontaneity than about protracted control. Though he did seem pretty into getting Avery riled up. Which was a major bonus for me.

As far as the first encounter between Graham and me, he had the wisdom to let my husband dictate it. After they'd had some time to explore each other -- Graham was particularly keen to use his mouth to explore Avery's cock -- the captain asked if he'd like to see anything from the two of us. When Avery shyly admitted he would, Graham made it into a game: the only contact allowed between him and me was whatever Avery ordered. It took the pressure off the situation, allowing Avery to set the boundaries and fulfill his fantasies at the same time, while I got to enjoy Graham's skilled erotic touch without worrying it was upsetting my partner.

Avery wanted to see us kiss, and then he wanted to see Graham kiss a lot of places that weren't my mouth: my neck, my chest, my biceps, my abs. Then there was licking, something Graham seemed just as eager to do as I was to experience. By the time Avery had instructed him to lap my nipples, and my balls, and the underside of my shaft over and over, I was feverish everywhere.

Graham was too different from my partner: mature, experienced, unafraid. And with nothing at stake. Avery had always viewed me through the lens of superiority -- someone whose care and support he desperately needed. The captain may not have equaled all of my external achievements, but he was just as capable in command, and his formative years had left him significantly more intact than either mine or my partner's, from what I knew and could observe. With him, I found it more difficult to shelter behind my customary stoicism. The way he smoldered at me while he mouthed my swollen glans painstakingly slowly, pausing whenever I started to pulse, amplified my nervous system to such a high voltage, I thought the pleasure would electrocute me if he kept teasing me there. When he finally engulfed my shaft and sucked me hard, I wanted it so badly, I couldn't even try to resist. I'm sure some kind of animal sound tore from my throat when I discharged.

Avery was right; this did not feel like it had with Vik. The doctor was still a good friend of mine, and I had all the respect in the world for him. I'd shamelessly gotten off into or because of his body many times. But I'd never felt...passion. I'd never been out of control.

When he'd drunk my seed, Graham went back to my partner, who was in a proper state after watching the tableau with me. Graham teased him too -- mainly, I thought, because Avery so evidently wanted him to. Graham ended up on his back, pulling Avery on top of him so they could rut their oiled cocks together in the captain's fist while they made out. Damn, I was about ready to go again by the time they spurted simultaneously.

I couldn't fail to notice that when Avery was finished, he collapsed along Graham's side, head conveniently falling against his shoulder, and didn't move away. And after the captain borrowed the washcloth to clean up their semen, he anchored a hand on Avery's arm and didn't move away either. My partner used to be quite snuggly with Vik, but this was different. I could almost see the sweet, tender shoots emerging from the fertile post-orgasmic soil and twining them together, like morning glory vines on a dewy spring morning. It stirred something in a deep chamber of my heart I hadn't known was there.

A few evenings later, Avery and I made a visit to Graham's new permanent quarters. Given his rank, he was allowed to choose civilian housing wherever it was available, and Fort Laurel had gratefully offered him a room like the one Avery and I shared, near the military side of our settlement. This put Graham a conveniently shorter distance from us and also offered more privacy than his tent had. On this occasion, he'd promised to show Avery a few songs on his guitar and maybe teach him some chords. Avery had no background in music, but he'd been fascinated by Graham's performance at the variety show, and it seemed as good an excuse as any for a hangout.

Graham's room was about the same size as ours, containing the same basic furniture: bed, nightstand, bench, desk, and wash basin. He hadn't carted many personal items this far into the wilderness, but a few mementos and photos were tacked to the walls. There was one snapshot of him and Rae in their flight suits, arms slung around each other's shoulders in front of an F-35 stealth fighter jet. Another showed him with his older sister Blair, her husband, and their two children. I hadn't seen her for many years, but the woman in the photo looked enough like Graham to be recognizable, with the same coral undertones to her skin and a similar shape to cheekbones and chin.

Avery sat cross-legged on the bed next to the captain to watch him tune up, while I stood by the desk and perused the small collection of battered novels he'd dug out of a bag for me. At one time, millions of books had been available to anyone via electronic devices. Unfortunately, functional digital readers depended on many factors that didn't generally align anymore: specialty materials, sophisticated manufacturing, stably maintained software, and connectivity. Plus protection from the elements. Paper books had to stay relatively dry, but they could withstand heat, cold, dust, and pressure. The two Third Battalion units had a few digital devices that operated on the military's closed network, but most information that mattered was stored hard copy.

"When did you learn to play?" Avery asked while Graham plucked each string in turn, listening with an expert ear and adjusting the tension until the note rang true.

"Guitar? I started messing around with it ages ago, but I didn't dedicate much time until I was posted near Sacramento. Seemed like one of the better ways to stay entertained, so I got a friend to teach me. But my first string instrument was the cello. My parents started me as a child with a private tutor. Used to play in the youth orchestra."

"Seriously? You played the cello? I cannot picture that."

"Julian played too," Graham told him. "Not cello...what did they have you on?" he directed at me. "Brass, wasn't it?"

"Oh, trumpet," I scoffed, shaking my head. The whole thing had been ridiculous.

Avery jumped on that with even more incredulity. "What? How come I never knew that?"

"Because I had no facility for making music come out of a metal tube, and my father eventually had to give up his dream of a son who could captivate with a concerto just before ordering troops to let civilians starve. It's the aristocratic tradition. The Lansings were much better at it."

"Well I'm not sure

that's

a compliment," Graham rejoined. "But we did get some genetic luck where music is concerned. I don't hold a candle to Blair; she's nearly a virtuoso on violin." He plucked a few bars, checking his work, then turned back to Avery. "Besides, he's making it out to be worse than it was. I know he was in orchestra at least a couple years, and they wouldn't keep even the Demos heir apparent that long, if he couldn't stay on pitch."

"Waste of time," I muttered, turning back to the books. A couple were unfamiliar but looked plausible.

"So what do you want me to play, little one?" I heard Graham ask next, the question evidently targeted at Avery. It was the second time I'd heard him use the phrase.

"Why do you call me that?" my partner asked self-consciously, although mostly he sounded pleased. "I'm not as built as

you

, but I'm not little. I'm taller than you, I'm pretty sure."

"Couple centimeters, maybe," Graham joked in return. "No, I was referring to your age, not your size. I'll be thirty-four in a few months, and you're barely twenty-seven. Imagine you compared to a twenty-year-old. Or yourself at twenty. Think of everything you didn't know yet."

"That just makes you old," Avery parried.

"

Old

?!" Graham laughed. "Come on, I'm in the prime of my life! You will be too someday. In seven years. Little one," he added playfully.

"It's not my fault I wasn't born earlier," Avery countered, now seeming much less sure.

"No." Graham shifted to an affectionate tone. "And I wouldn't want you to have been. Because then I would have missed the adorably bashful, eminently teasable creature you are today."

I glanced up in time to see Avery retaliate with a mock-defensive shove. "I am not. Any of those things." But he flushed slightly.

"No? You want me to put down this guitar and prove how teasable you are? I won't even need to take off your clothes." He moved as if to lay the instrument aside, but Avery pulled his arm back.

"Just play something," he laughed, clearly enjoying the attention.

Graham gave him a smile. "Back to my question, then. What do you want me to play?"

My partner returned a casual shrug that did nothing to dim his glowing features. "Just anything. Something you like."

"Ok." Graham's fingers warmed up for a minute, strumming through a chord progression. "Julian should know this one."

He launched into an up-tempo track I recognized as being by one of the artists his band had covered. He played it well, keeping up with the notes seemingly effortlessly, even while singing at the same time. His voice was strong and sure, and he wasn't at all reserved about using it. Avery's focus stayed fastened on Graham's hands for the most part, but he smiled shyly when the captain drew his gaze with particularly expressive vocal lines.

I flipped to the beginning of the most likely novel and started reading while I listened. I'd mostly come along to facilitate their interaction. I'd offered for Avery to go alone, but he'd balked. As much as he wanted to spend time with Graham, he was still nervous about doing it without a safety net.