Marcy s Playground 8 by loyalsock
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Marcy's Playground 12 By Loyalsock free porn video
I said good-bye again. Except then he was distracted by a phone call and when his back was turned I walked through the double doors with the other girls.
I hadn't even really meant to do it. I just sort of...went with the flow. Which in this case was following the person in front of me.
Into a sex club.
Oh shit.
The front room was hopping. There was a pulsing burgundy-red light strobing from the ceiling. The music was loud, the lyrics, 'marry her anyway', blasted over me, coming out slightly distorted from the multiple speakers around the room. The bass thumped up through my feet. People were dancing and swaying. The lights turned slightly bluish, suddenly accenting everyone's outfits.
It wasn't quite wall-to-wall people, but it felt like it to me. The crush of bodies moving. The sounds of people talking and laughing. A bubble of space around me closed, and suddenly I was staring at a mountain of backs and shoulders. God, I hated being short.
I pushed through, heading toward the bar, when I recognized what the song was: Rude, by Magic.
I got near the back bar and I saw a stairway and ducked down and headed down the stairs, more to get away from the throng than anything.
The music faded away completely and I found myself in a wide hallway. If upstairs was nightclub this was more...expensive fancy restaurant lounge. There were couches on each side of the hallway and people were sitting on them, sipping their drinks, and apparently listening intently to each other if their body language was anything to go by.
Someone bumped into me.
I turned around.
Linda.
"Oh, hey Marcy," she said.
"Hey."
She took my arm and moved us out of the way so we weren't standing in the middle of the hallway right at the bottom of the stairs, blocking the way if someone else wanted to come down.
I looked at Linda. She reminded me a little of my mom, if my mom were also someone super cool who I could talk to.
"I've never been down here," I said. I just wanted to know what went on. Really want to know. Even if it was just a little bit. Could I talk to her? "I'm feeling a little overwhelmed," I said. "I work here and I don't even know much about well..."
She smiled at me.
I let my facial expression look like I was questioning, because I didn't quite know what to say.
"You know what I like about this place?" she asked.
"What?"
"I feel...liked, and...cared for. I'm safe here. I can be myself here. And I can feel sexy again. Even though I'm not twenty-five anymore."
"Huh."
"You know fifty percent of our membership fee goes to charity right?"
"Ut-uh."
"Yeah. It goes to **** crisis help and sexual disease prevention education."
"Oh, wow."
"Yeah. The point is, the place is someplace special and..." she trailed off.
"And what?"
"If there's somewhere not to feel overwhelmed, it's here. Everybody is about having a real connection. Where else do you get that?"
"Oh."
"You want to come in with me and watch?"
I blinked. Was she offering what I think she was?
"Ah, yes, can I?"
"Yeah, if it's okay with them."
Yikes! Them?
"Come on."
We walked past a few closed doors and a few open ones until we got to a room further down the hallway. I don't know how she knew which door to go into but she walked right in.
I was glad to see there were only two people in the room and that they were dressed. The woman was Brenda-Lynn, a woman about fifty-five. The man's name I couldn't remember. He was a little overweight with a balding head.
The room was done in subtle middle-eastern sultan.
"Is it okay if Marcy watches?"
"Just for a little while," I said. "It's for work."
"Sure," they both said.
Oh God. Ohgod Ohgod Ohgod Ohgod.
Did I say, Oh God?
Yikes-eez.
Linda sat down on the long pillowed bench next to...what was his name? Barry? And put her hand on his chest. She curled up next to him.
I watched as Linda casually toed off her shoes and tucked her legs up under her. She put her face near Barry's, and asked him, in a very low voice, how his day was. Brenda-Lynn mimicked her position, and Barry somehow paid equal attention to both of them.
Brenda-Lynn started feeding Barry slices of apples, and small pieces of cheese, and g****s, from a fancy plate on an ottoman in front of them. She leaned over him to feed a piece to Linda, and they all laughed at something Barry said.
What I saw shocked me more than the idea of me working in a sex club. It was an open intimacy I just didn't think existed anymore between old people.
They loved each other.
I mean, I guess I knew this existed, but seeing it, really seeing it was so...mind blowing.
And hot.
Fuck, really hot.
They were murmuring, their voices getting lower. I was across the room, so I couldn't really hear what they were saying, but I had a feeling that they talk had turned from work to things a little more...sensual.
Maybe part of the reason I couldn't hear them well was that I was concentrating more on their body language. The way Linda's hand's rested so comfortably on Barry's chest. How he had his arms around both of them. Brenda-Lynn's gaze. Linda's lips, so close to Barry's cheek.
Fuck.
I spaced out for a second thinking about it. Linda could be herself. I guess everyone could be himself or herself.
Brenda-Lynn was on her knees, kissing the top of Barry's head. Barry had his shirt wide open. He had more of a belly than I thought, and his chest and belly were covered with dark hair. Linda was petting his chest and kissing his neck. He looked like he was in heaven and then some.
Part of me felt like I should be disgusted, but there was something really beautiful about it. It reminded me of Heather and Evan.
They weren't just intimate and sex buddies and lovers.
They were friends.
Linda put her hand over Barry's crotch and rubbed, and he moaned. After a minute she opened his fly and took his cock out.
I should leave. Barry tilted his head back, and a small moan escaped him. My mouth opened too.
Very quietly I left.
I was breathing heavily. I plastered myself against the wall. I was glad I left when I did. I put my hand on my chest. My heart was beating rapidly. I guess the voyeur thing? For me, not so much. But, fuck, they were hot.
I don't know what I expected happened in here, but it wasn't that. I guess in the back of my mind, I thought it was wild orgies of swingers having total crazy debauchery, hang-off-the-walls, swapping, kinky, unspeakable, dirty, wild sex.
That's definitely not what that was.
This was hotter.
"Marcy?"
Oh shit. Mrs. J.
"What are you doing down here?"
"Ah...I was curious what goes on down here."
"Well, that varies according to the day. I guess you have a better idea now."
"Yeah," I said. "It was kind of helpful actually."
We stared at each other for a second. I gathered my courage.
"Can I ask you something? When we were in your kitchen, why did you say it wasn't a sex club?"
"Because it's a love club," Mrs. J. said.
*
"Ow, you're on my hair."
Jean-Luc moved a little bit, and I pulled my hair out from his part of the pillow and it immediately stuck to my bare chest.
"Sex is sticky," I said.
His grin was huge. "If you do it right."
I thought back to something he said a few days ago.
"You said there were six major sex positions."
"And infinite variations there of," he said.
"What are they?"
"I think I'll show you, rather than tell you."
"Now?"
"No, not now. We just did the boom-chick-a-wow-wow. Give a guy a rest, will ya?"
I smiled. "Oh, yeah, you're an old man, I forgot. I have to take it easy on you."
He slapped my thigh.
"I will tell you we've done man on top, and man behind, that's two."
Well, if that didn't get me thinking.
*
We dozed, and when I woke the Sunday afternoon light was filtering in through his bedroom window.
"I need a shower," I mumbled.
"Help yourself, I'm going to sleep a few minutes more."
The cold shower was wonderful. While I was soaping up I started thinking about the program at Emory again. I had to tell Jean-Luc about it. I fine sheen of sweat beaded up on my forehead and I turned to face the spray to let the cold water wash it off.
I toweled dry and used the white terry cloth robe that was on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. The robe was so long on me, it looked like I was wearing a royal cloak with a long train.
"Hey baby," Jean-Luc said when I came out.
"Hey."
"What's up?" he asked when he saw my expression.
"Ah, um, ah," I said.
"What?"
He came over to me and put his arms on my shoulders.
"It's just, I um, I'm supposed to leave to go to Emory for college in two weeks and if you want, I won't go. I can apply to go to the tech instead."
"No," he said firmly.
I was both glad and crushed. He cared about my future and he didn't want me.
"It's a great school. You should go."
Tears welled up, but I blinked them away.
"We'll think of something," he said.
"I don't want to talk about it," I said.
"Okay," he said.
"Want to have sex instead?" I asked.
"I don't want you to break my cock," he said.
"Really?"
He cracked up.
"No. But you might want to give your sacred spaces a rest. We've already had sex three times today. You could get honeymoon cystitis."
I didn't know what that was, but it didn't sound good.
"But we could have sex tomorrow, and the day after."
Now that sounded like a plan.
I really wanted to learn what those other positions were.
*
Jean-Luc was true to his word.
I should definitely start keeping a diary.
One that had a lock.
It was Saturday before I had a day off, and I walked over to Bevvie's to see if she wanted to go down to the lake with me. Thank God it was back down to beauteous temperatures again.
When Bevvie opened the door, she didn't seem exactly herself. Except that she had a bag of Snickers minis in her hand.
"What's up?" I asked.
She backed up to let me in.
"Marce, do you think you could use some of your gymnastic training stuff to help me lose weight?"
I blinked.
"Yeah, of course, you could start going to the gym with me—"
She cut me off.
"I'm too embarrassed to go to the gym."
"We could start right here," I said. "With gentle stretches and stuff."
She nodded.
"And do you think you could, like, use some of your psychology stuff you're always studying to help me with the, you know," she held up the Snickers bag, "psychological stuff."
"Of course."
"I mean I'm so lonely."
What!
Then she broke into tears.
What!
I hugged her, getting smothered in her breasts.
"Bevvie, I can't believe you said that. We're like, best friends, how can you be lonely?"
She was crying too hard to answer.
Suddenly I thought about altruism. I had been so busy having sex, I hadn't noticed my best friend needed help. I disentangled myself from the embrace.
"We will tackle this together, Bev. Whatever you need. I'm totally here for you."
"Will you, ah, go to Overeaters Anonymous meetings with me? And sit in a meeting with me the first time? I'm scared to go by myself."
They have those?
"Sure Bev. Of course, whatever you need. Why didn't you ask before?"
She shrugged.
"Because I'm a sucky friend, that's why," I said.
"I wasn't ready," she said.
I blinked.
"You need me to go on a diet with you, I'll go on a diet with you," I said. "You need to just walk a block, then we'll do that."
She started crying again.
"You don't have to do it all at once, and you don't have to do it alone."
"It's about sex," she said.
I blinked.
"Ah, what?"
"I'm afraid. Do you think if um, I want to go to a ther****t, you can help me find one?"
For some reason I laughed. Relief I think. "You better fucking believe it. Come on Bev, it's a good day. We'll start now. And you know what? It's a good day for me too. Helping you is going to help me a bunch. You'll see. This will be the best thing in the world. For both of us."
*
Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex.
How do you know if you're a sex addict? No, no. It's just that it's so new and Jean-Luc is so good at it. But. Wow. Yeah. Wow. This diet of daily sex thing. It's something I could really get used to.
I kind of wish that Bevvie had a boyfriend too and she wasn't so scared of it.
Between work, Jean-Luc, helping Bevvie, and trying to get ready for college, I was super busy. The next two weeks flew by. Pretty soon it was the night before I had to go.
I was both excited and bummed.
But mostly bummed.
So to speak.
I lied to my parents. Just outright lied. I told them I was having a sleep-over with Bevvie, but I was really going to spend some time with Heather, Evan, and Jean-Luc, and then spend the night with Jean-Luc. It seemed only fitting.
When I arrived at Heather and Evan's I expected the mood to be somber. It wasn't.
Heather made salmon and spinach for dessert. It was light and delicious. You know, I should introduce Bevvie to Heather and Evan. Heather could teach her to cook healthily and Evan could teach her not to be afraid of sex. And maybe she wouldn't be so lonely when I was gone.
I finally got the meaning of altruism. It wasn't giving from the extra; it was giving from the core.
Like not caring if you were sharing your c***dhood friend with your sex club friends.
Like not considering them your sex club friends any more.
Because they were your real friends.
I sighed.
"What?" they all asked me at once.
"Nothing," I said. "You guys are great, that's all."
"We know," Evan said.
We all cracked up.
After dinner we watched a foreign film called Y Tu Mamá También. If there's any movie that will put you in the mood, it's that one.
Then we all went out onto the porch. But before we sat down, Evan said in a voice that was so super casual it wasn't just off-the-cuff it was off the whole suit, "So Marcy, you feel ready to go from pee wee football to the NFL?"
Gump.
I stared at him. I stared at Jean-Luc. I stared at Heather.
I didn't even know what that would entail.
I nervous giggle escaped me.
"I don't know, would that included cheerleaders?"
They laughed.
Evan stepped close, his voice low, his expression predatory.
"No."
He licked up my neck, one long, slow swipe.
"But you could imagine fantasy cheerleaders," he said, in a voice so low, so almost sub aural that the tone warped with distortion. "If that would get you through."
Holy shit.
Breathe Marcy. Breathe breathebreathebreathebreathe.
You're leaving tomorrow. This may be your only chance. This is what you've been waiting the whole summer for.
"I'm ready," I said.
His voice was so low, I'm not even sure I heard him.
"Play ball," he said.
Evan took my left hand and Jean-Luc took my right and they very gently led me over to the tall wooden fence at the edge of the deck. Evan put the hand he held up on the flat board of the fence, and Jean-Luc put my other hand up on the fence. Evan tap-kicked one ankle where he wanted it, and Jean-Luc gently kicked the other, and pretty soon I was standing spread eagle against the wooden fence wall, a criminal in a play of my own doing.
Jean-Luc put his hand on the back of my head and angled it down. Suddenly I was a subdued, small captive, between two large men, with no idea what was going to happen next.
There was a pause, which seemed interminably long. The crickets seemed loud. I noticed the rise and fall of my chest, as I tried to steady my breathing. I stared at where the wood of the deck met the wood of the fence; they were different colors.
Evan and Jean-Luc each put one elbow high on the fence, bringing their chests and armpits close to the side of my face.
My God, I could smell them.
Evan's subtle smell of soap. Jean-Luc's smell of expensive, subtle cologne.
The smell of powerful, aroused males.
And something else.
Anticipation.
Hunger.
And also...
Oh shit.
Domination.
I didn't know that could have a smell.
But it sure as fuck did.
I started to shake.
In complete synch, they both put their hands on my lower back.
"You can stop at any time," Jean-Luc whispered in my ear.
"N-no," I said. "I want to go through with it, whatever it is. I want to experience everything. Go big."
Evan's voice, low and raspy. Menacing. "Big words from such a little, little girl."
Oh fuck.
Evan. "I've waited a long, long time for this."
Oh God, oh God, please help me through this.
Their hands started rubbing up and down my back. Up to my shoulder, down to my low back. Up and over my shoulder, down to my low back. God that felt so good. Evan's hand was slightly warmer. Jean-Luc's hand was bigger.
I sighed. It was so comforting. So nice.
Evan. Growly. "Don't get too comfortable."
Lower.
For a brief moment they both gently grazed their fingers over my outstretched arms. I realized something. They loved each other. Not sexually. More like super best friends. Or brothers. No, tighter than brothers.
But then I couldn't think about it any more because they were rubbing my back with long strokes.
Up over my shoulder, down my shoulder blade, my low back, over my ass, up the same path, down. Up, down, cupping around the bottom of my ass cheek, back up. Not comforting any more. Hot.
Hotter.
Evan's side. Yanked my shirt out of my skirt waistband.
Evan. "Scared little girl?"
"Yes."
"Good."
What the hell happened to the Evan I knew? I blinked. Wait. This was still him. The Evan I trusted. This was his game. He was the bad cop. Did that make Jean-Luc the good cop? I turned my head to look at Jean-Luc. He gave me a reassuring smile and gently palmed the back of my head and guided it back so it was positioned far down.
They caressed my bare skin. That same wonderful stroke of my back. Same mirrored movements in tandem. It was hypnotic. I let my eyelids float closed. Up, down. Up. Down.
Someone unhooked my bra.
Up. Down.
Jean-Luc nuzzled my neck.
Someone tucked my skirt up into the waistband. Whoa, that left my rear end like right out there. Was I wearing good underwear? Um. Like, plain white ones. No. White ones with the little ruffle frill across the butt. Would they think that was sexy?
Then Evan bit my neck and there went the self-conscious panty train.
Everything sped up.
Jean-Luc's hand on my breast; Evan's hand on my back. Evan's hand on my breast, Jean-Luc's hand on my breast. The thought occurred to me they must have done this a hundred times, their hands moving in perfect harmony, driving me crazy, hands, hands everywhere, kneading, nipping, scratching biting. Two hands on each breast, oh God, hurry—more—my skin started to...sear it was heating up so fast. They were rubbing my nipples between their fingers, rolling them, pulling them, pinching them.
I moaned.
"That's it, little girl, make noise for me."
"Unh."
Jean-Luc, ducked under my shirt to suckle my nipple. Evan kissed and licked down my spine. At least, I think it was Jean-Luc at my breast and Evan at my back, wasn't it?
Me. Louder.
Switch. I think. At least, now it was my left breast that was sucked into a warm, wet mouth, and the action at the middle of my back was licking, kissing, biting, and a dragging down of gentle teeth.
Yeah, that was Jean-Luc. Definitely Jean-Luc.
Right?
I opened my eyes. Except for a minute my vision was fuzzy. I thought I saw I glimpse of dark hair through the wide opening of my shirt, but I couldn't be sure.
Sharp nip on my breast.
"Oh!"
Satisfied masculine laughter from in front of me. Burning in my toes.
So, so wet. Already.
Hands on my hips from behind. Then two more from in front.
Remember to breathe. Oh please remember to breathe.
I hadn't even really meant to do it. I just sort of...went with the flow. Which in this case was following the person in front of me.
Into a sex club.
Oh shit.
The front room was hopping. There was a pulsing burgundy-red light strobing from the ceiling. The music was loud, the lyrics, 'marry her anyway', blasted over me, coming out slightly distorted from the multiple speakers around the room. The bass thumped up through my feet. People were dancing and swaying. The lights turned slightly bluish, suddenly accenting everyone's outfits.
It wasn't quite wall-to-wall people, but it felt like it to me. The crush of bodies moving. The sounds of people talking and laughing. A bubble of space around me closed, and suddenly I was staring at a mountain of backs and shoulders. God, I hated being short.
I pushed through, heading toward the bar, when I recognized what the song was: Rude, by Magic.
I got near the back bar and I saw a stairway and ducked down and headed down the stairs, more to get away from the throng than anything.
The music faded away completely and I found myself in a wide hallway. If upstairs was nightclub this was more...expensive fancy restaurant lounge. There were couches on each side of the hallway and people were sitting on them, sipping their drinks, and apparently listening intently to each other if their body language was anything to go by.
Someone bumped into me.
I turned around.
Linda.
"Oh, hey Marcy," she said.
"Hey."
She took my arm and moved us out of the way so we weren't standing in the middle of the hallway right at the bottom of the stairs, blocking the way if someone else wanted to come down.
I looked at Linda. She reminded me a little of my mom, if my mom were also someone super cool who I could talk to.
"I've never been down here," I said. I just wanted to know what went on. Really want to know. Even if it was just a little bit. Could I talk to her? "I'm feeling a little overwhelmed," I said. "I work here and I don't even know much about well..."
She smiled at me.
I let my facial expression look like I was questioning, because I didn't quite know what to say.
"You know what I like about this place?" she asked.
"What?"
"I feel...liked, and...cared for. I'm safe here. I can be myself here. And I can feel sexy again. Even though I'm not twenty-five anymore."
"Huh."
"You know fifty percent of our membership fee goes to charity right?"
"Ut-uh."
"Yeah. It goes to **** crisis help and sexual disease prevention education."
"Oh, wow."
"Yeah. The point is, the place is someplace special and..." she trailed off.
"And what?"
"If there's somewhere not to feel overwhelmed, it's here. Everybody is about having a real connection. Where else do you get that?"
"Oh."
"You want to come in with me and watch?"
I blinked. Was she offering what I think she was?
"Ah, yes, can I?"
"Yeah, if it's okay with them."
Yikes! Them?
"Come on."
We walked past a few closed doors and a few open ones until we got to a room further down the hallway. I don't know how she knew which door to go into but she walked right in.
I was glad to see there were only two people in the room and that they were dressed. The woman was Brenda-Lynn, a woman about fifty-five. The man's name I couldn't remember. He was a little overweight with a balding head.
The room was done in subtle middle-eastern sultan.
"Is it okay if Marcy watches?"
"Just for a little while," I said. "It's for work."
"Sure," they both said.
Oh God. Ohgod Ohgod Ohgod Ohgod.
Did I say, Oh God?
Yikes-eez.
Linda sat down on the long pillowed bench next to...what was his name? Barry? And put her hand on his chest. She curled up next to him.
I watched as Linda casually toed off her shoes and tucked her legs up under her. She put her face near Barry's, and asked him, in a very low voice, how his day was. Brenda-Lynn mimicked her position, and Barry somehow paid equal attention to both of them.
Brenda-Lynn started feeding Barry slices of apples, and small pieces of cheese, and g****s, from a fancy plate on an ottoman in front of them. She leaned over him to feed a piece to Linda, and they all laughed at something Barry said.
What I saw shocked me more than the idea of me working in a sex club. It was an open intimacy I just didn't think existed anymore between old people.
They loved each other.
I mean, I guess I knew this existed, but seeing it, really seeing it was so...mind blowing.
And hot.
Fuck, really hot.
They were murmuring, their voices getting lower. I was across the room, so I couldn't really hear what they were saying, but I had a feeling that they talk had turned from work to things a little more...sensual.
Maybe part of the reason I couldn't hear them well was that I was concentrating more on their body language. The way Linda's hand's rested so comfortably on Barry's chest. How he had his arms around both of them. Brenda-Lynn's gaze. Linda's lips, so close to Barry's cheek.
Fuck.
I spaced out for a second thinking about it. Linda could be herself. I guess everyone could be himself or herself.
Brenda-Lynn was on her knees, kissing the top of Barry's head. Barry had his shirt wide open. He had more of a belly than I thought, and his chest and belly were covered with dark hair. Linda was petting his chest and kissing his neck. He looked like he was in heaven and then some.
Part of me felt like I should be disgusted, but there was something really beautiful about it. It reminded me of Heather and Evan.
They weren't just intimate and sex buddies and lovers.
They were friends.
Linda put her hand over Barry's crotch and rubbed, and he moaned. After a minute she opened his fly and took his cock out.
I should leave. Barry tilted his head back, and a small moan escaped him. My mouth opened too.
Very quietly I left.
I was breathing heavily. I plastered myself against the wall. I was glad I left when I did. I put my hand on my chest. My heart was beating rapidly. I guess the voyeur thing? For me, not so much. But, fuck, they were hot.
I don't know what I expected happened in here, but it wasn't that. I guess in the back of my mind, I thought it was wild orgies of swingers having total crazy debauchery, hang-off-the-walls, swapping, kinky, unspeakable, dirty, wild sex.
That's definitely not what that was.
This was hotter.
"Marcy?"
Oh shit. Mrs. J.
"What are you doing down here?"
"Ah...I was curious what goes on down here."
"Well, that varies according to the day. I guess you have a better idea now."
"Yeah," I said. "It was kind of helpful actually."
We stared at each other for a second. I gathered my courage.
"Can I ask you something? When we were in your kitchen, why did you say it wasn't a sex club?"
"Because it's a love club," Mrs. J. said.
*
"Ow, you're on my hair."
Jean-Luc moved a little bit, and I pulled my hair out from his part of the pillow and it immediately stuck to my bare chest.
"Sex is sticky," I said.
His grin was huge. "If you do it right."
I thought back to something he said a few days ago.
"You said there were six major sex positions."
"And infinite variations there of," he said.
"What are they?"
"I think I'll show you, rather than tell you."
"Now?"
"No, not now. We just did the boom-chick-a-wow-wow. Give a guy a rest, will ya?"
I smiled. "Oh, yeah, you're an old man, I forgot. I have to take it easy on you."
He slapped my thigh.
"I will tell you we've done man on top, and man behind, that's two."
Well, if that didn't get me thinking.
*
We dozed, and when I woke the Sunday afternoon light was filtering in through his bedroom window.
"I need a shower," I mumbled.
"Help yourself, I'm going to sleep a few minutes more."
The cold shower was wonderful. While I was soaping up I started thinking about the program at Emory again. I had to tell Jean-Luc about it. I fine sheen of sweat beaded up on my forehead and I turned to face the spray to let the cold water wash it off.
I toweled dry and used the white terry cloth robe that was on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. The robe was so long on me, it looked like I was wearing a royal cloak with a long train.
"Hey baby," Jean-Luc said when I came out.
"Hey."
"What's up?" he asked when he saw my expression.
"Ah, um, ah," I said.
"What?"
He came over to me and put his arms on my shoulders.
"It's just, I um, I'm supposed to leave to go to Emory for college in two weeks and if you want, I won't go. I can apply to go to the tech instead."
"No," he said firmly.
I was both glad and crushed. He cared about my future and he didn't want me.
"It's a great school. You should go."
Tears welled up, but I blinked them away.
"We'll think of something," he said.
"I don't want to talk about it," I said.
"Okay," he said.
"Want to have sex instead?" I asked.
"I don't want you to break my cock," he said.
"Really?"
He cracked up.
"No. But you might want to give your sacred spaces a rest. We've already had sex three times today. You could get honeymoon cystitis."
I didn't know what that was, but it didn't sound good.
"But we could have sex tomorrow, and the day after."
Now that sounded like a plan.
I really wanted to learn what those other positions were.
*
Jean-Luc was true to his word.
I should definitely start keeping a diary.
One that had a lock.
It was Saturday before I had a day off, and I walked over to Bevvie's to see if she wanted to go down to the lake with me. Thank God it was back down to beauteous temperatures again.
When Bevvie opened the door, she didn't seem exactly herself. Except that she had a bag of Snickers minis in her hand.
"What's up?" I asked.
She backed up to let me in.
"Marce, do you think you could use some of your gymnastic training stuff to help me lose weight?"
I blinked.
"Yeah, of course, you could start going to the gym with me—"
She cut me off.
"I'm too embarrassed to go to the gym."
"We could start right here," I said. "With gentle stretches and stuff."
She nodded.
"And do you think you could, like, use some of your psychology stuff you're always studying to help me with the, you know," she held up the Snickers bag, "psychological stuff."
"Of course."
"I mean I'm so lonely."
What!
Then she broke into tears.
What!
I hugged her, getting smothered in her breasts.
"Bevvie, I can't believe you said that. We're like, best friends, how can you be lonely?"
She was crying too hard to answer.
Suddenly I thought about altruism. I had been so busy having sex, I hadn't noticed my best friend needed help. I disentangled myself from the embrace.
"We will tackle this together, Bev. Whatever you need. I'm totally here for you."
"Will you, ah, go to Overeaters Anonymous meetings with me? And sit in a meeting with me the first time? I'm scared to go by myself."
They have those?
"Sure Bev. Of course, whatever you need. Why didn't you ask before?"
She shrugged.
"Because I'm a sucky friend, that's why," I said.
"I wasn't ready," she said.
I blinked.
"You need me to go on a diet with you, I'll go on a diet with you," I said. "You need to just walk a block, then we'll do that."
She started crying again.
"You don't have to do it all at once, and you don't have to do it alone."
"It's about sex," she said.
I blinked.
"Ah, what?"
"I'm afraid. Do you think if um, I want to go to a ther****t, you can help me find one?"
For some reason I laughed. Relief I think. "You better fucking believe it. Come on Bev, it's a good day. We'll start now. And you know what? It's a good day for me too. Helping you is going to help me a bunch. You'll see. This will be the best thing in the world. For both of us."
*
Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex.
How do you know if you're a sex addict? No, no. It's just that it's so new and Jean-Luc is so good at it. But. Wow. Yeah. Wow. This diet of daily sex thing. It's something I could really get used to.
I kind of wish that Bevvie had a boyfriend too and she wasn't so scared of it.
Between work, Jean-Luc, helping Bevvie, and trying to get ready for college, I was super busy. The next two weeks flew by. Pretty soon it was the night before I had to go.
I was both excited and bummed.
But mostly bummed.
So to speak.
I lied to my parents. Just outright lied. I told them I was having a sleep-over with Bevvie, but I was really going to spend some time with Heather, Evan, and Jean-Luc, and then spend the night with Jean-Luc. It seemed only fitting.
When I arrived at Heather and Evan's I expected the mood to be somber. It wasn't.
Heather made salmon and spinach for dessert. It was light and delicious. You know, I should introduce Bevvie to Heather and Evan. Heather could teach her to cook healthily and Evan could teach her not to be afraid of sex. And maybe she wouldn't be so lonely when I was gone.
I finally got the meaning of altruism. It wasn't giving from the extra; it was giving from the core.
Like not caring if you were sharing your c***dhood friend with your sex club friends.
Like not considering them your sex club friends any more.
Because they were your real friends.
I sighed.
"What?" they all asked me at once.
"Nothing," I said. "You guys are great, that's all."
"We know," Evan said.
We all cracked up.
After dinner we watched a foreign film called Y Tu Mamá También. If there's any movie that will put you in the mood, it's that one.
Then we all went out onto the porch. But before we sat down, Evan said in a voice that was so super casual it wasn't just off-the-cuff it was off the whole suit, "So Marcy, you feel ready to go from pee wee football to the NFL?"
Gump.
I stared at him. I stared at Jean-Luc. I stared at Heather.
I didn't even know what that would entail.
I nervous giggle escaped me.
"I don't know, would that included cheerleaders?"
They laughed.
Evan stepped close, his voice low, his expression predatory.
"No."
He licked up my neck, one long, slow swipe.
"But you could imagine fantasy cheerleaders," he said, in a voice so low, so almost sub aural that the tone warped with distortion. "If that would get you through."
Holy shit.
Breathe Marcy. Breathe breathebreathebreathebreathe.
You're leaving tomorrow. This may be your only chance. This is what you've been waiting the whole summer for.
"I'm ready," I said.
His voice was so low, I'm not even sure I heard him.
"Play ball," he said.
Evan took my left hand and Jean-Luc took my right and they very gently led me over to the tall wooden fence at the edge of the deck. Evan put the hand he held up on the flat board of the fence, and Jean-Luc put my other hand up on the fence. Evan tap-kicked one ankle where he wanted it, and Jean-Luc gently kicked the other, and pretty soon I was standing spread eagle against the wooden fence wall, a criminal in a play of my own doing.
Jean-Luc put his hand on the back of my head and angled it down. Suddenly I was a subdued, small captive, between two large men, with no idea what was going to happen next.
There was a pause, which seemed interminably long. The crickets seemed loud. I noticed the rise and fall of my chest, as I tried to steady my breathing. I stared at where the wood of the deck met the wood of the fence; they were different colors.
Evan and Jean-Luc each put one elbow high on the fence, bringing their chests and armpits close to the side of my face.
My God, I could smell them.
Evan's subtle smell of soap. Jean-Luc's smell of expensive, subtle cologne.
The smell of powerful, aroused males.
And something else.
Anticipation.
Hunger.
And also...
Oh shit.
Domination.
I didn't know that could have a smell.
But it sure as fuck did.
I started to shake.
In complete synch, they both put their hands on my lower back.
"You can stop at any time," Jean-Luc whispered in my ear.
"N-no," I said. "I want to go through with it, whatever it is. I want to experience everything. Go big."
Evan's voice, low and raspy. Menacing. "Big words from such a little, little girl."
Oh fuck.
Evan. "I've waited a long, long time for this."
Oh God, oh God, please help me through this.
Their hands started rubbing up and down my back. Up to my shoulder, down to my low back. Up and over my shoulder, down to my low back. God that felt so good. Evan's hand was slightly warmer. Jean-Luc's hand was bigger.
I sighed. It was so comforting. So nice.
Evan. Growly. "Don't get too comfortable."
Lower.
For a brief moment they both gently grazed their fingers over my outstretched arms. I realized something. They loved each other. Not sexually. More like super best friends. Or brothers. No, tighter than brothers.
But then I couldn't think about it any more because they were rubbing my back with long strokes.
Up over my shoulder, down my shoulder blade, my low back, over my ass, up the same path, down. Up, down, cupping around the bottom of my ass cheek, back up. Not comforting any more. Hot.
Hotter.
Evan's side. Yanked my shirt out of my skirt waistband.
Evan. "Scared little girl?"
"Yes."
"Good."
What the hell happened to the Evan I knew? I blinked. Wait. This was still him. The Evan I trusted. This was his game. He was the bad cop. Did that make Jean-Luc the good cop? I turned my head to look at Jean-Luc. He gave me a reassuring smile and gently palmed the back of my head and guided it back so it was positioned far down.
They caressed my bare skin. That same wonderful stroke of my back. Same mirrored movements in tandem. It was hypnotic. I let my eyelids float closed. Up, down. Up. Down.
Someone unhooked my bra.
Up. Down.
Jean-Luc nuzzled my neck.
Someone tucked my skirt up into the waistband. Whoa, that left my rear end like right out there. Was I wearing good underwear? Um. Like, plain white ones. No. White ones with the little ruffle frill across the butt. Would they think that was sexy?
Then Evan bit my neck and there went the self-conscious panty train.
Everything sped up.
Jean-Luc's hand on my breast; Evan's hand on my back. Evan's hand on my breast, Jean-Luc's hand on my breast. The thought occurred to me they must have done this a hundred times, their hands moving in perfect harmony, driving me crazy, hands, hands everywhere, kneading, nipping, scratching biting. Two hands on each breast, oh God, hurry—more—my skin started to...sear it was heating up so fast. They were rubbing my nipples between their fingers, rolling them, pulling them, pinching them.
I moaned.
"That's it, little girl, make noise for me."
"Unh."
Jean-Luc, ducked under my shirt to suckle my nipple. Evan kissed and licked down my spine. At least, I think it was Jean-Luc at my breast and Evan at my back, wasn't it?
Me. Louder.
Switch. I think. At least, now it was my left breast that was sucked into a warm, wet mouth, and the action at the middle of my back was licking, kissing, biting, and a dragging down of gentle teeth.
Yeah, that was Jean-Luc. Definitely Jean-Luc.
Right?
I opened my eyes. Except for a minute my vision was fuzzy. I thought I saw I glimpse of dark hair through the wide opening of my shirt, but I couldn't be sure.
Sharp nip on my breast.
"Oh!"
Satisfied masculine laughter from in front of me. Burning in my toes.
So, so wet. Already.
Hands on my hips from behind. Then two more from in front.
Remember to breathe. Oh please remember to breathe.
Jane
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