my two partners (part eight).

Scott

Meaghan, used to late nights at the restaurant, sleeps in.  She also needs a lot more sleep than I do, so I take advantage of the mornings alone.  I type a flurry of emails and Facebook posts pertaining to future shows, and even manage to get some social calls in.  A couple days after the garage show now, I remember to touch base with Emily.  I haven't given this whole thing too much thought, but I know Meaghan would want me to keep the momentum going.  Emily hasn't contacted us either, which doesn't exactly surprise me.  Between her other partners, her projects, schooling, and attending as many shows as she possibly can, I can't imagine she has too much time or energy left over.  In fact, I'm surprised she's given us as much attention as she has so far.  I'm beginning to realize that she's pretty unfocused; but I can't imagine a completely put together person having threesomes with couples, so we'll take what we can get.  There's a reason she isn't in a relationship right now.  I search for her number on my phone, deciding to tread lightly and casually.  But, some text flirting never hurts.

Hey.  Great show the other night, Em.

Thanks!  It was super fun.  Thanks for all your help! :)

Np.  We had fun, too.  Meaghan thought you were super cute.  Her words.

I liked her too!  She's reeeeally pretty. ;)

I know.  She's the hottest. ;)

Too bad you had to go early.

Yeah, I agree.  We should hang out soon.  Maybe this week?

Totally!

K.  I'll ask Meaghan when she's avail. 

K great!

Talk soon.

Yep!

Done.  It's a little manufactured, but courting someone usually is.  

I start to load up the car for tonight's gig, then take a shower,  and see where Meaghan's at.  The door creaks as I open it, and she stirs.  I quietly make my way over, and sit beside her on the bed.  Her beautiful brown eyes open, though barely.  She's not usually a morning person, but she smiles, pulling me down for a squeeze.  Meaghan's been in a great mood lately; noticeably so.  I feel a pang of sadness at the realization of why: Emily.  Or, at least, the prospect of Emily.

I mean, I know we have a great sex life, but who says anyone else couldn't give her the exact same thing?  A bit of dirty talk and playing with her ass, while she does most of the work with a vibrator.  It's not exactly rocket science; though it did take me a while to figure it out.  Months into our relationship, and I still couldn't make her come.  Most of the girls I've dated would orgasm over my cock quite easily, but she was different.  Even with lots of stimulation on her clit; with my fingers or tongue, with or without penetration of any, or every, kind.  I tried everything; I felt like an octopus down there.  Once we introduced the vibrator, things got easier.  She told me that she had started using it almost every day since her last boyfriend, and had simply gotten used to it.  For a while, I didn't know what to do, while she used the vibe on herself; where I fit it.  I felt utterly useless.  She still couldn't come in front of me, feeling self conscious now, from the pressure, or stress.  After I got off, coming inside her, I would leave to take a shower, so that she could do it without me hindering her.  The gasp when she came was audible from the washroom, and broke my heart the few times we did it this way.  Thankfully, we figured it out.  My job ever since has been to set up some naughty role play and play with her ass, while she vibrates her clit.  

Then, she went off the pill, and I could no longer come inside her when we had intercourse.  It wasn't a big deal to me, but it was her favourite part of vaginal sex.  She suggested that I wear a condom, but I can't start wearing them now.  Instead, I blow my load on my stomach, usually jerking myself off while she kisses me.  It's our normal.  But, it's not normal.  It's more like lesbian sex, than straight sex. 

I kiss her face, still dusted with sleep.  "You better get up, babe. You have to leave for work in an hour."

"Mmm," she groans, stretching.  "Do you have a gig tonight?"

"Yeah.  I'm going to leave soon, too."

"Okay," she says, finally opening her eyes fully.  She smiles again, always happy after a good night's sleep.  "Snuggle for a couple minutes, first?"

The gig is a monthly show I produce, with some of the best acts in the city.  The venue is stellar; right downtown with a good sized stage, phenomenal sound, and helpful staff.  The booze is overpriced, but they've got to make money somehow.  Especially since I take the cover charge from the door, and split it between the bands.  The bands get drink tickets as well, so it's a pretty sought after gig.  And, it's at the point where I hardly have to hustle to fill the room.  And one of the people in this room, happens to be Emily.  

Now that she's on my radar, I seem to see her everywhere.  Not that I should be surprised; she makes it to so many shows, and this is one of the very best.  I doubt she knew I produced it, though.  

"Emily!  Didn't think I'd see you here."

"Oh hey!  You neither.  Are you playing?" 

"A small set, yeah.  I produce the night."

"Cool!  Is Meaghan here?"

"Not tonight, no.  She's working."

"Ah.  Well, I'm here!"

"Yeah, great!  Thanks!  Meaghan will be sorry she missed you, though."

"Why, what did she say about me?"

"Oh, I can just tell.  She was crushing pretty hard after your show."

"Really?  Aww."

"Yeah."  I don't want to scare her off, so I decide to change the subject.  But, she gets to it, first.  

"Do you want to know a secret?"

"Sure."  My stomach flutters for some reason, uneasy.

"I slept with someone that night that I'm not even attracted to."

"What?  Who?"

"It's not important.  I'm a little embarrassed, actually."  My mind goes to the other straight guys that were in attendance.  All music friends of mine.  And another thing: why is she telling me this?  Not exactly the thing to say to someone you might fuck in the near future. 

"Hmm.  You were drunk, I guess?"

"Not really.  I don't know.  Just feeling horny."

"Right.  You get like that often?"

"Yeah.  Sometimes it gets a little crazy.  Like when I'm in public. I've masturbated on public transit before.  Like, several times."

"Wow.  I used to be like that.  When I was your age, I used to jerk off like four or five times a day."  Meaghan would love to know that about Emily, but I can't help but think of my own dwindling sex drive.  She smiles, brushing a curl away from her face.

"It's more of a nuisance than anything."  

"Well, you should be careful, though.  You know, fucking musicians in the local scene.  It could make things difficult in the future.  Like, in your career.  Or just, socially."

"Yeah, I know.  I'm feeling that a bit.  I've slept with like four guys in this room, alone."  Soon to be five.  "It's pretty awkward."

"I mean, I'm not judging or anything.  Just looking out for you."

"Thanks."  Her gaze drifts towards the stage, while I try to think up another topic of conversation.  It strikes me that I'm too old for this.

"Meaghan has a pretty high sex drive, too."

"She does?"

"Yeah.  I mean, we have sex almost every day, but she'd probably like more.  And, in different ways."

"I see.  In what ways, exactly?"

"Well, she'd love to fuck a woman.  But, you already know that," I wink.

"Just any woman?"

"One, in particular."  Emily smiles at that, deep in thought.  She doesn't ask anymore questions.  "I should go," I say, gesturing towards the stage.  She nods, and we give each other a quick, half hug.   

  

Emily

"I mean, I'm not judging or anything.  Just looking out for you."

"Thanks," I say vaguely, as if saying it to the whole room.  What a buzz kill.  I was looking to share a funny secret, and he had to get all serious on me.  Not that I don't appreciate where he's coming from.  Older, wiser, and all that.  Coming from anyone else, I might be insulted, but there's something about Scott that makes me feel like he is genuinely looking out for my best interests.  Him and Meaghan really seem like they have their shit together.  I should take note. 

He drops Emily's name again before runs off, and it's good to see that they're still interested.  Ever since my show, I assumed that they had moved onto other things.  Or more specifically, other people.  If it was me, I would've banged the person and been done with them by now.  What's the hold up?  But, I guess they like me after all, and I have to say, it feels good.  It feels good for to be in someone's mind for more than the hour or so that we're fucking for.  It's scary, but good. 

I slice through the crowd, making it almost to the front, and carve out a space at the side, in front of one of the monitors.  The sets are tight, and sound great, but something about this show feels different.  Usually I find myself taking in the whole experience, letting the room's energy wash over me like liquid.  But this time, my focus is razor sharp, and specifically narrowed in on Scott.  As I watch him pluck his bass guitar, the room seems to go completely quiet, receding, like a wave.  It suddenly occurs to me, that he could really help me.  Meaghan, and him, I mean.  My body buzzes, and my hands feel numb.  So much so, that when I discreetly reach down my pants, it feels like someone else's hand.  My pussy is flooded, but my eyes remain as focussed as lasers.  The sound pumps through the speaker as if through water, sounding slow and slightly distorted.  I keep my gaze affixed on Scott, while the arm favouring the wall vibrates my hand over my slick clit.  My other arm, the one other spectators might see, swings nonchalantly with the beat of the bass drum.  I've done this before.  But, it doesn't usually feel this intense.

My clit is as pointed and sharp as my gaze, as I draw moisture up from my folds, flicking it like I'm playing a high hat cymbal.  In eighths, then sixteenths, speeding up as I feel my hips tilting and my muscles bearing down.  Maybe Scott will be the best thing that's happened to me in a while.  Scott, and Meaghan.  Maybe it's exactly what I need to get my life on track.  I picture fucking him, Scott giving me his cock on the quarter beats.  Yes.  Yes.  Fuck!  I come quietly but intensely on my hand, and the crowd cheers.

"Great set!"  I say to Scott, finding him after they've torn down.  I didn't even talk to anyone else, and it's been almost an hour.  I feel different, and I like it.  I touch his arm, and look deeply into his eyes, hoping he can feel me trying to connect.

"Hey!  Thanks, Em."

"What are you doing after?"

"After the show?  Uh, not sure.  I might have a couple drinks.  Then head out.  Why?"

"Do you want to go somewhere and mess around?"  He coughs, as if he breathed in through the wrong pipe.  

"Oh.  Uh.  I don't think that's... something Meaghan would be into.  I mean, we haven't talked about doing things... separately. Yet."  

"Oh.  Sure.  No problem."

"But, you're going to come over.  This week.  Right?"

"Right."

"Alright.  Well. I'll text you."

"Yep.  See ya!"

"Later!"  

Suddenly, the room feels very noisy, like it was previously on mute, and someone just turned on the sound full blast.  I retreat to the quiet of my parent's car, driving home without bothering to turn the radio on.  

caught with my pants off.

I text my boyfriend, "Coming home soon?"  After waiting the necessary ten minutes, I unplug my laptop, and carry it into our bedroom.

Not that I don't want Daniel to come home; in fact, it's just the opposite.  I just don't want to masturbate if I can get off with him later tonight.  I would much rather share my orgasm with him, but it's a little selfish, too, I admit.  My orgasms are much better when he assists me.  And, by assist, I mean, I'm still going to use my vibrator, whether he's here or not.  It's just an issue of whether I'm getting other things stimulated, while I'm doing it.  And I don't necessarily mean sexually; that is, the smell of his skin comforting me, his deep voice arousing my mind, and our general intimacy relaxing me.  He also touches my breasts, pussy, and butt.  Everything forementioned attributing to overall better orgasms.  And, it just so happens that our sexual position of choice, is usually assisted masturbation.

I plug the laptop back in next to the bed, and settle into the soft sheets.  Remove most of my clothing, leaving only a tank top and white ankle socks.  I'd usually remove everything if I was making love, but doing the activity solo allows me to be most comfortable, and I come easier when I'm on the warm side.  I take up a position on my end of the bed, laying with the laptop balancing delicately on my stomach, and I take out my vibrator from the side table, poised to turn it on.  First, I search for my favourite porn site.  Not that I watch too much porn anymore, now that Daniel and I have moved in together.  My masturbation time has been significantly cut down by the fact that I rarely have time alone at home anymore; and if I'm horny, I'll find Daniel over sneaking off to the bedroom by myself.  And since I'm watching alone, I don't have to be self conscious about what I choose.  This is my opportunity to watch exactly what I want to watch, and I savour it.  I feel a smile creep across my face as I saucily click the category, Anal Sex.

I fast forward, past the interview with the cameraman at the beginning, past the blowjob, even past the vaginal sex.  I stop right before the anal penetration. The part I'm looking for, is the warm up.  Something I very much enjoy myself, I look forward to watching the brief part where he plays with her ass with his fingers, or with toys; effectively warming her up before he puts his dick in it.  Not that the sixty seconds of anal foreplay they show is going to be enough for the average, non-pornography starring girl looking to engage in full on anal sex, because, to tell you the truth, it's barely enough for me to come while masturbating to it.  Sometimes I rewind, and watch it multiple times.  

The man on the video makes her spit on his fingers, instead of using lubricant.  I get mine from a bottle, squirting a healthy dollop onto the vibrator, and placing it on myself.  He bends her in half, lifting her legs, and pushing her knees up towards her shoulders.  He asks her if she's flexible, and she nods, settling into this pretzel-like position.  The man brushes the opening of her asshole with the spit, as I feel myself start to relax and bear down.  Her ass easily takes his fingers, as they disappear inside her.  She must have warmed up off camera.  I watch the delicate skin of her asshole pucker and stretch as he moves them in and out.  He asks if she can take one more.  I feel my clit harden and it feels so good, I almost shy away from the intensity of the vibrations.  

Just then, I hear the front door slam.  "Jen?"  I freeze, not knowing whether to answer.  Not that Daniel would mind if I'm masturbating; in fact, he likes to hear that I'm still doing it.  But, walking in on me, is something altogether different.  I pause the video, take the laptop from my chest, but I don't close it completely.  I'm still planning on getting off. 

"Uh... In here!"  I turn off the vibrator momentarily, close my legs, the lube squishing slightly between them.  He appears in the doorway.

"Hey, I was trying to call you... Um, are you getting off, baby?"  He chuckles, eyes alight.

"Uh... Yeah."

"Mmm.  What are you watching?" He says, interested, taking off his shirt, and joining me.  He lifts the laptop, revealing a still of a the girl's loosening asshole.  

"How embarrassing..." I say, only half joking.  

"Mmm," he says, closing the laptop and placing it on the table beside him.  "Are you embarrassed to be caught masturbating, baby?"

"Hmm," I smile, reddening.  "A little bit."

"Are you embarrassed that I saw what you were looking at?"

"Mmm.  Yeah."

"That you were looking at a girl's ass?  Hmm?"  He says, faux sternly.  

"Yes, baby," I smile, turning the vibrator back on.  He kisses me deeply on the mouth, moving down my neck, to my clothed breasts.  He removes my shirt, bending to lick my hardening nipples.  I press the vibrator against my clit, allowing myself to moan in pleasure.  He takes out his dick, and starts stroking it.  

"You're a bad girl, getting caught, aren't you?"  I feel moisture drip down between my legs, towards my ass, a blend of my own juices and the lube.  With one hand, he feels my wet, puffy pussy.  His fingers glide over my glistening folds, as I feel myself push, almost reaching out to him.  His elbow grazes my side as he jerks his cock, his voice wet in my ear.  "You need to be taught a lesson, don't you?"

"Mmm.  Yeah, baby." I feel his slick hand move down my sensitive perineum, towards my ass.  Immediately, I feel the urge to bear down.  

"So you don't do it again."  

"Mmm.  Yes."  I feel the pad of his finger trace the opening of my ass, in a circular motion, teasing it.  I feel my asshole pulsate, wanting his fingers.  He changes the angle of one of them, and it dips in slightly.  I moan, my ass relaxing to accommodate it.  

"That's a good girl.  You know what I need you to do."

"Yeah, baby," I groan, feeling him enter me.  The role play is perfect.  I love when he pretends to make me do something that I so badly want to do already.  In reality, Daniel touching my ass is rather mundane, it being a weekly occurrence at least, but the dirty talk makes it seem taboo, like when he first started to touch me in this way.

"I need to touch you here, don't I?  To teach you a lesson."

"Mmm.  Yes, baby."

"Are you going to be a good girl?"  He says, plunging the finger all the way inside my ass.  I gasp, the muscles in my ass both pushing and relaxing to allow him to enter.  He vigorously jerks his cock, elbowing me in the side with each stroke.  I press the vibe harder against myself, knowing that I could come at any time, now.  He begins to wiggle his finger.  "Are you going to let me punish you?"

"Yes, baby," I say, voice quivering.

"You're not going to make this any harder, are you?"

"No!"  The liberation of saying this word, whilst completely immersed in the consent play, does it for me.  I open my ass, bearing down in the unique way that combines both pressing and opening, allowing him to stimulate that spot deep within me.  Everything contracts at once, and I cry out a guttural sound.  Daniel continues to jerk off a few strokes before letting go himself.  His glistening semen lands across my torso, expertly avoiding the sheets.

"That was unexpected," he says, breathless.

"You're telling me."
"I tried to phone you, but I guess you were busy," he winks.  I flush crimson.
"Yes, I was..." I laugh.  "Yes, I was."

life's a drag.

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