"You're sure," Mary asked Pidge, "you don't mind if I don't kiss you?"
Pidge shook her head no. "It's Ben's present. We're both here for him. The point is that he has a good time."
"Oh," said Mary. "What if he wants us to--you know?"
Pidge smiled. "You politely avoid the issue by sucking his cock."
Mary laughed. "Brent and I did it with Simon once but they were more interested in each other than in me."
"Ben's different." Pidge said, tucking a lock of purple hair behind her ear as she checked the clock in the kitchen. It was 11:55. Ben was supposed to arrive at noon, but the bus from campus was notoriously unreliable. Pidge poured Mary another champagne-and-orange-juice to calm her down.
"He looks cute." Mary shifted on the stool. "What about after?"
"After?"
"A threesome with another woman? It changes stuff. The relationship." She took a sip of her drink. "You're dumping him, right?"
Pidge sighed. "Yes." It was 11:58.
"Will you quit looking at the clock already? You're making me nervous. If he's so great, why are you dumping him?"
Because, thought Pidge. Because you're his age and I'm not. Because his enthusiasm will drive me mad. Because I've had fun teaching him about sex, but now he expects every day to be exotic, erotic, and marvelous. Because I don't want to invest the time to remake his image of me, she thought, and hated herself for it. Because I close my eyes when I come, which means it's still a private thing, not to be shared with him. "Because it's time to be alone for a while," she told her friend, knowing that was an acceptable answer.
"Oh," said Mary. She sipped again from her champagne glass. Pidge knew she would be fine once Ben arrived. Pidge knew that Ben would treat her well. And that was another because: because Ben held no more surprises for her. She knew what to expect from him, and from Mary. She knew they would be fine together.
There was a knock at the door. It was exactly noon. Pidge touched her hair again -- it had been purple only for a week -- and opened the door.
Ben stood there, neatly dressed in a sport shirt and gray slacks. His brown hair was still damp from showering. Pidge noticed he had an erection; already, she thought, and smiled. This would be fun.
Ben looked disappointed when he saw Pidge was not alone. Pidge almost laughed but smothered it because a young man's ego is a fragile thing. His erection was wilting. She stepped aside to let him into her tiny apartment and then said, "Ben, Mary. Mary, Ben. Champagne and orange juice, Ben?" Ben followed her through the kitchen into the bed-sitting-room.
"Uh," said Ben, and then, "Yes, please," and then, finally, clumsily, "It's, uh, nice to meet you, Mary."
Mary lifted her eyebrows and looked at Pidge.
"Are you disappointed to see me, Ben?" asked Mary. Her voice had dropped half a register and become husky. She stared at him over her champagne glass until he blushed and looked away. Her eyes were dark with gold flecks. She changed position on the stool to emphasize her large breasts.
"Close your mouth, dear," said Pidge as she poured his drink. "Flies will get in." Ben shut his mouth.
"I don't mean disappointed to see me specifically, of course," said Mary. "You don't even
know
me. You would have been disappointed to see
anybody,
right, Ben?"
"No," he said. "No, I just-- I just--" He took the glass from Pidge. "Is this mine?"
Mary sighed heavily. "You wanted to be alone with our Pidge," she said sadly.
"No," Ben protested lamely, trying to smile. "I just wasn't expecting... Look, I can come back later--" He took a deep draught from his glass.
"You're squandering it," said Pidge. "Drink it slowly." She sat on the edge of the bed to watch. Ben was trying, but Mary had blindsided him and he wasn't getting a chance to recover. While his attention was focused on Mary, Pidge permitted herself a tiny smile, ready to lose it if Ben looked her way. As she watched, she twisted her finger in the ribbon that tied her blouse.
"No, no, I understand. You wanted to be alone with Pidge, probably for some immoral purpose--"
"No, no--" Ben protested.
"Well, what's wrong with you?" Mary demanded. "I'd do immoral things with Pidge. She's quite attractive, if you like them tall and thin." She frowned as though she'd thought of something shocking. "You're not a breast man, are you?"
Ben stopped suddenly. "What?"
"Oh, Pidge, don't tell me you were trying to convert another big boob man. You're supposed to call me for those." She said to Ben, "I'm her stunt tits."
The women waited and there was a moment of silence before Ben laughed heartily. Pidge let herself laugh too, and Mary grinned.
"Happy birthday, Ben," said Pidge, and they toasted him.
"Thank you. I wasn't sure what was going to happen for a moment, there."
"Neither was I," said Mary. "Pidge assured me you'd be a gentleman, though." She giggled. "'I could come back later, though--'"
"
I
had faith in you, Ben." Pidge leaned against one of the big silk cushions on the bed. "Turn over the coffee table." The coffee table was a huge overturned enamel washtub she'd painted and stenciled, and which usually hid her dirty laundry.
"Ah," said Ben. "My present is to sniff your used underwear." He smiled. Pidge loved to see him smile. "I'm game."
"If she's not gamey," said Mary.
"Even if," said Ben.
Mary said to Pidge, "Oooh, he
is
chivalrous."
When he turned over the washtub, half a dozen helium-inflated condoms floated to the ceiling, trailing crepe streamers. "Now we have a party atmosphere," said Pidge. She smoothed the skirt around her legs and leaned on one elbow to look at him. "It's time for you to unwrap your present."
Ben looked at her and then at Mary, and then back at Pidge. Delicately he said, "I'm not sure where to begin."
Pidge tugged at the bow on her blouse. "With the ribbon, of course."
Ben sat in the crook between her thighs and her body, and touched the ribbon. Instead of pulling it, he gently kissed her mouth. They kissed again, with increasing hunger. On the next kiss, her tongue touched his and she pulled away. "Go on," she said. He pulled on the ribbon. Her blouse fell open, exposing her small breasts. Ben gave each nipple a careful, damp kiss.
From beside him, Mary cleared her throat. When Ben looked up, her blouse was already off. Her large breasts were remarkably firm: Pidge thought of them as magazine breasts. Mary said, "Union rules. That's to be done to the stunt tits."
"All right," said Ben, "but we may need several takes." Pidge leaned back to watch. Evaporation made her nipples cool and erect. The sun through the sheer curtains was warmed her feet.
"All takes and no give," said Mary to Pidge, "that's the problem with these men," but there was no anger in it.
Ben settled Mary on the stool beside the bed so he could reach both women. "Now," he said, "I believe it went like this." He kissed each of Mary's fat brown nipples.
"No," said Mary. "You took hers farther into your mouth."
"Like this?"
"Mmmm. And I think I saw you bite them. Gently!" She closed her eyes as his teeth scraped across the surface of each nipple.
Pidge stroked her own swollen nipples as she watched Ben alternate between Mary's breasts. Mary's shoulders sagged as she finally relaxed. Ben's slacks looked tourniquet-tight across the ridge of his erection. Pidge could feel the heat of his body through her skirt, against her thighs and crotch. Her pussy was already heavy, full and prickly-aware.
After a few minutes, she gently stroked the nape of his neck. He pulled away from Mary and glanced sheepishly at her as if to apologize. "Shh," Pidge told him. "Nothing to be sorry for. It's your birthday." He leaned forward and gave her a full-throated kiss, his lips warm, soft and slippery.
Mary reached around him and unbuttoned his shirt. When his back was bare, she scratched her fingernails along his spine. He broke the kiss and arched his back, rubbing his head against Mary's shoulder like a cat. Ben was always eager to be touched, anywhere.