[ Dear Readers:
If you prefer to read episodes of this series without their predecessors, that's fine and I hope you enjoy them that way. Just a heads-up, though: It's not meant to be an anthology. All the episodes (except the first) build on those before them, so you'll probably conclude some things differently from what was intended.
Some of our readers' public and private comments touch on unmentioned matters, just a few of which are safe sex, STDs and common real-world consequences of things and events in the story.
Two chief rules in theatre are, first, everything on stage must have a reason to be there, second, everything that the action requires must be present, whether explicitly or implicitly. It's not much different in written fiction. By the second rule, if a story does not get into some particular issue explicitly or implicitly (for example, indirectly through consequences) then it is irrelevant because the author deems it so and asks the reader to consider that issue adequately handled without mention. Sometimes action may be simplified a little from what is actually meant for the sake of smoothness and avoiding distracting details unnecessary for understanding the scene. A good author has respect for the reader's intelligence and imagination and does not feel compelled to paint every scene with photographic detail.
In short, if it ain't there, it don't matter. Please remember that this is a story, not a case study or the news.]
SECRET NO LONGER
Chapter 12
Three Plus One Makes Four
With the dawn, the naysayers of my mind had once again been driven to retreat, back to that rickety closet into where all sensibilities had been incarcerated for this time of decadence. One day passed with no particularly noteworthy events, and then another, and my mind had settled back to its normal version of our shared abnormality. I was glad that summer vacation had arrived; Jason was home a lot more.
The following Thursday, early in the afternoon, he arrived home, accompanied by Timmy and Carla, who, you'll recall, was now his girlfriend. They were in rather high spirits as they tossed some music (tenuously worthy of the name at best) and started into that spastic gyration stuff they call dancing. To me it seemed silly to call it that, but aside from what it was called, it was sexy, in a rather blunt, vulgar way. Not that I objected; their rubbing and grinding was getting them steamed up, and I was far from insenstitive myself, even just watching.
I had my own things to do. Eventually, though, I headed back toward my room. I heard laughter, but along with it, some decidedly provocative noises. I peeked into the open door and saw just what I expected to see: the three of them in the early stages of some seriously fun sex. They had respectfully asked of me and I had granted my approval here of the practice common in Carla and Timmy's household of leaving the door open as both a statement of philosophical openness, and also to allow other residents, which of course meant me, to look in if we liked.
Already, I liked. I had been intrigued, you'll recall, with Jason's short-form description of their first
mΓ©nage Γ trois
; now I'd get a chance to see another performance. True, I couldn't dive in and turn the
trois
into
quatre,
but it would be a thrill just to watch a bit of it. I would have to dress for the occasion, though. Why not?
I reached my bedroom and decided to put off the little chore that had drawn me there for later. Instead, I changed into my tight jeans, the ones voted second-most-sexy on me by the men in my life, after those black slacks you've heard about. Following that I donned a wispy little top, with T-shirt-like material, but of the thinnest, clingiest kind. It had some cute, frillly embroidered flowers on it, but far, far removed from where they could interfere with the view of the main subjects, pressing proudly, as they soon would, against the fabric, nipples at the fore, tender flesh actually barely visible through it.
I headed back to the room and poked my head in. After all, part of the code was that an open door is a tacit invitation.
"Uh... What's that you're doing?" I asked in a comically stupid voice.
"She's forgotten, can you believe it?" Jason said to the others, "Maybe she needs a refresher course."
"No, no, kids; you just carry on by yourselves. The most I'll do is watch a little. You won't mind that, will you?"
"Actually, we were hoping you'd do that," Timmy said, sweetly, "We'd enjoy your esteemed presence, if nothing else."
"Thank you, I just might take you up on your kind invitation in a little while."
The way I was dressed stated my interest all by itself, so this was really more friendly banter than anything else. I went off to do a little bit of necessary not-very-much, and after a while, made my way back to their room.
They were quite a bit further along by then. Carla was now dressed only in panties; Jason was completely naked, and Timmy was in the process of getting out of his trousers.
"Hello again, folks!" said I, walking in and grabbing a chair, "Is this the hundred-dollar-a-ticket section?"
"If you want it to be," Jason replied, extending his hand.
"You wish, Son!"
"Never hurts to try," he replied and turned his attention back to his girlfriend while Timmy finished the task of removing the last of his clothes.
Jason started teasing Carly's clit through the silky fabric of her panties, while her brother stationed himself by her side, on the other side from me. scooting her over a bit. The reason for that, I realized, was to give me a clear view; the other way, which he had apparently expected to be doing, would have put him between me and Carla, spoiling the sightline.
"Thank you, kind Sir," said I.
"My pleasure, Madame," replied he.
As I looked on, Timmy stroked and caressed Carla's face and neck, planting little kisses there that steadily migrated downward. For my tastes he was rushing a bit; but at least he had learned better than to start off by jumping right onto and into a lady's pussy without consideration for her need for patience and time.
Jason, meanwhile, was getting some very fine results from his ministrations in the form of Carly's accelerating movements and breathing, while Timmy gradually made his way to her breasts, tending to them and the surrounding areas, another good sign. I just kept watching, enjoying the erotic demonstration, aware and hardly surprised that it was setting my own arousal mechanisms into motion. Well, that's what I was here for, wasn't I?
"By the way, if you don't mind my mentioning it, you look awfully sexy in those clothes, Linda," Timmy said, interrupting his work on his sister.
"Why, thank you, Timmy," I replied graciously. I really wanted to keep talking, to prod him into a detailed description of everything he saw that would cause that evaluation, but I knew it would both interfere with what they were there to do, but worse for me, take me where I might like to go, but from where I might not be able to find my way back. I kept mum and kept watching.
Seeing a woman being expertly tended to this way by two caring and skilled men, in real life, by real people, not actors in a porno, was certainly having a hell of an impact. Imagining myself where Carla was, feeling the things I could see she would be feeling, was creating a real ache inside, a combination of a specific arousal with the knowledge that the experience was not available to me, beyond this vicarious participation. I looked on.
Jason was sliding Carla's panties off, and now all three were nude. His tongue danced over Carla's clitty while his finger sought her G-spot within. Timmy, meanwhile, was varying his touches and caresses in interesting ways, but centering on Carla's breasts.
The pageant was exciting and my body was certainly responding, which was just natural. The tingles caused me to sense the state of my body, the hardness of my nipples as they shouted their proud presence through the shirt, the snug jeans, flattering, as they did, the shape of my hips, and now, I realized, my posture, which was gradually shifting from that of one just sitting in a chair to that of a woman stretching and moving in instinctive ways, ways aimed at seducing men. I did nothing to interfere with them.
"Mind if I get in a little closer?" I asked.