Erotica by Olivia London
It all started with a massage. How could something that feels so good cause so much trouble?
A former caterer, Joy was enjoying her far more manageable life teaching culinary classes and writing for food blogs. One reason she had to sell her business was out of a weary participation in other people’s happiness. Always the caterer never the bride. Now she had two men offering marriage and she felt far more desirable at thirty than she did at nineteen.
But Joy wasn’t sure she wanted marriage at all.
Every time she and her partner Tanner had an argument the makeup sex got better and better. After their last row Tanner took his girlfriend to a ski resort where she melted under the flamboyant hands of a mustachioed masseur.
In bed that night Joy was especially giving and amorous. She took a risk and admitted a long-held fixation. As much as she loved sex with her partner of two years. . . two cocks simply had to be better than one.
Joy and her man agreed it would be too risky to pick up a stranger and too complicated to impose on one of the mates. The busy brunette thought she’d never see the light at the end of her fantasy until Tanner brought home an old college chum named Jesse.
When Joy proffered her hand for Jesse to shake, he gallantly kissed it instead. She was embarrassed by how much this little gesture had pleased her. Tanner had never kissed her hand.
Over drinks and a favorite recipe for smoked salmon blini Joy got to know and like this new member of their social circle. They got to talking about fantasies and Joy mentioned the masseur at the resort.
“What did the guy look like?” Jesse wanted to know.
Joy shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t even remember, exactly. I just kept thinking how nice it would be to have Tanner’s hands moving under the sheets while the body worker did his thing. Is that kinky? Anyway, it was just a fantasy.”
Jesse arched a brow in Tanner’s direction but said no more. He started hanging around a lot, though. As a teacher on sabbatical he had plenty of time to just hang. He contributed witty articles to Joy’s blog and gave her handy consulting ideas. He met Tanner in the financial district where they’d have drinks and Jesse would laugh good-naturedly at his friend’s jokes. He didn’t mind being the butt of them sometimes because he had designs on his friend’s girlfriend. Tanner, an investment banker, didn’t understand his pal’s lack of enthusiasm for money. Both men assumed they understood women.
But Tanner had cheated on his girlfriend with a stripper he met at a colleague’s bachelor party and since that foible he had difficulty reading his lover’s emotions.
“Why can’t you see the woman meant nothing to me?” he had screamed over Joy’s cold shoulder one night. “She was a stripper for fuck’s sake. It will never happen again. I love you. I’m working my ass off trying to make you happy, no one else. Why can’t you forgive me?”
Joy, exhausted from fighting, sighed and gave in. Tanner did work hard and he was constantly doing thoughtful things for her. When her parents were in town Tanner took the trouble to show them the sights and treat them to magnificent meals. Then there were the countless times Joy had circled something in a catalog only to have it magically arrive on her doorstep.
He had always been good to her, sure. The thing with the stripper though troubled her on many levels. She had always been wary of being compartmentalized. By living with Tanner she was “good enough to be in a relationship” whereas the stripper was relegated to a box marked “disposable.” And why did Tanner have to cheat on her just a few days shy of her birthday? A woman feels vulnerable enough watching another milestone roll by without having her man pay another woman for sex.
She wanted to forgive and forget. Tanner was generous by nature. She knew her lover would do anything for her to the point of fulfilling her wildest fantasy. Tanner’s introducing her to Jesse was her man’s way of saying, Forgive me.
Joy and Tanner, Type A people never comfortable with just relaxing, became noticeably more affectionate with each other, reaping the benefits of this new insouciant force. Soon, the three were inseparable.
“I appreciate you two taking pity on a single man,” Jesse had said over dinner one night.
Joy had prepared a delectable beef stifado that had impressed both men greatly. She had lightly grilled the sweetest heirloom tomatoes she could find before baking them into the Greek stew and pearl onions were the perfect baubles for a well-dressed meal. She had added a touch more cinnamon than she normally would, having read somewhere the Greeks used to add this spice to love potions.
“You’re the one taking pity on us,” Tanner had mused aloud. “No matter how hard two people work at a relationship, the day in, day out Honey, where’s my socks? routine gets a little old. You give us something to talk about when you’re not around. I can tell Joy has the hots for you, man.”
“My ex and I were together five years and we never got bored, really. In the end, we just couldn’t make it work: those irreconcilable differences came into play.”
Jesse gave Joy a sympathetic look she wished she could drink like a postprandial raki.
Once again there was the categorical rush of rejection from when Tanner ruined her last birthday. Did Tanner see her as old as well as the routine?
When Jesse received an employment offer which involved relocating to San Francisco, the three went out to celebrate hitting several bars in Seattle’s Belltown district. After a night of dancing they took a cab home and it was a memorable ride. It was the three of them in the back seat and Joy was in the middle. Tanner kneaded her legs while Jesse massaged her shoulders.
“What would you like for a going away present?” Joy asked as the trio waltzed through the foyer of the Capitol Hill condo the couple planned to buy someday.
“A blow job.”
Joy doubled over with laughter as her man chuckled, shaking his head.
Jesse removed his corduroy jacket letting his friends know he wasn’t going anywhere soon.
“Man, if you let me help you with your finances maybe you could get some decent threads.”
“I don’t need clothes for what I want. I want Joy’s lips skating down my erection. Joy, you’ve been eying my groin for months. Time to deliver. Then Tanner can watch me fuck you.”
Read Part Two.