Room to Play

Room to Play Lena Austin All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2004 by Lena Austin

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Changeling Press LLC.

ISBN 1-59596-002-3

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Editor: Lynn Kendall

Cover Artist: Angela Knight

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Chapter One Andre sighed softly and turned away from the painful vision in the living room. It hurt him in more ways than one to see his beautiful wife sitting in her wheelchair in the shadows, staring out the window with her face as blank as a painted wall. He dug the business card out of his pocket and tried not to sigh again. This was probably the hardest phone call he'd ever have to make. Unless he could think of a solution in the next week, he'd be forced to put Claudia in the equivalent of a prison, in her eyes. He stared at the name and phone number of the nursing home. "Long-term care for disabled adults." "No, I can't do it. I can't." Andre spoke quietly to himself and stuffed the card back in his pocket. He glanced at the forlorn image silhouetted against the window, and stalked in the kitchen for his third cup of coffee. "Not yet." "Listen, Andre," the doctor had said when he signed Claudia's release papers. "There's nothing wrong with Claudia that can't be fixed with simple, long-term therapy. Massage, regular swimming, you get the idea. I've done all I can to repair her back from the accident." Doc Harper had glanced with exasperation at Claudia's figure, where the nurse sat trying to get any sort of smile from Claudia. "Yes, her career is over. She'll never be able to return to hairdressing again. Her back won't take the strain of standing that long. But the settlement you got from that drunk's insurance company is more than enough for Claudia to go back to school and find a new career. She's only 28, Andre. She can start over." "Doc, hairdressing was her life. It's all she's known, and you know how successful she was. How do I shake her out of that depression? She's firmly convinced she'll be a cripple." Andre held up his hand to forestall the protest he saw the doc about to make. "I know and you know she can walk again, but how do we convince her?"

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"Until she gets the spark back in her, I don't know," Harper said. "There's nothing chemical I can give her." He tapped his forehead. "It's all got to be a willingness to change up here. She's going to have to learn to give up champagne and jetting off for Paris, and that's that." Andre poured himself his coffee and put his head against the counter. What could he do? Claudia was sinking deeper into depression every time she had to be carried into the bathroom, bathed, and dressed. She'd at least batted his hands away and insisted on putting on her own shirt and skirt. Skirts were easier, now, even though Claudia had hated them before the accident. He'd cling to that tiny bit of improvement. It was the first sign of her infamous pride returning. Claudia Peters, the famous red-haired hairdresser to the stars, had been imperious, demanding, and energetic. Her perfectionism was legendary. Andre had loved her since they'd met while she was still in school and he a lowly sailor on leave. Now, he was home forever, discharged for humanitarian reasons. In two short weeks he would begin his new career as the manager of a small airport's maintenance hanger. They were rich, thanks to the settlement, at least temporarily. The insurance company of the drunk who'd managed to kill himself when he hit Claudia's car had not quibbled when they realized what a high-profile victim she'd been. They'd paid the hospital bills directly, set up a trust for her long-term care and rehabilitation, and given plenty for "pain and suffering." "Pain and suffering. Yeah, that's an understatement," Andre muttered and headed back to the living room. A knock sounded at the front door. Andre glanced at his watch. Eight AM. "Who could that be?" Andre yanked open the door, ready to give some door-to-door salesman the rough edge of his tongue. A burly blond man stood at the door, and it took Andre a moment to recognize a fellow member of the historical society Claudia had loved. Dante, yeah, that was the name.

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"Hi, Andre. Nice to see you again," Dante Adams began, shifting his feet awkwardly. "I'm sorry to disturb you so early." His glance moved to the coffee cup in Andre's hand. "No, that's okay," Andre assured him. "Come on in. Want a cup of Joe?" Dante sighed and stepped in. "I'd love a cup. And could I borrow your bathroom for a moment?" He displayed greasy hands. "My car broke down a couple of blocks from here." Andre made a gesture toward the powder room and groaned sympathetically. "I'll meet you in the kitchen." Dante joined Andre in the kitchen minutes later. "Thanks, Andre. It's been a very bad week for me. How's Claudia?" His glance toward the living room told Andre he'd seen the forlorn figure by the window. "Not good. We can't convince her she'll walk again if she tries." Dante nodded his head with understanding. "My Mom was the same way. Took us months to figure it out. Thank goodness, she's still with us, gardening in Jersey as if nothing happened." Andre looked at Dante in a new light. The tall blond man had always walked around the historical society meetings with a vacant grin. But Andre knew the guy turned in brilliant papers and was a demonic fighter in the medieval demonstrations they gave to school children, collecting championships several times a year. "What did you do?" Andre begged. "I'll tell you, if I can borrow your expertise in fixing my car, or at least getting it here. I lost my job yesterday, and I can't afford a mechanic." "Aw, that sucks. What did you do?" "If you mean what was my job, I'm a live-in medical companion. The lady I worked for finally passed on yesterday. Cancer. God, I'm going to miss her. Sweet old lady. I was trying to find a cheap apartment until the agency places me again." Dante shrugged. "It can sometimes take awhile, but I have a little bit coming to me from Mrs. Jackson's will. Unfortunately, it has to go through probate, and you know how long that

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can take." His blue eyes snapped with irritation for a moment. "Cars always break down at the worst possible time." Andre calculated swiftly. Here was the answer to his unspoken prayers. "Look, I might have a deal for you." He jerked his head toward Claudia. "I need help with her. If we can offer you our spare bedroom downstairs, maybe you'd take the job here. At least we can offer you room and board for a few weeks in return for helping me get Claudia up and down the stairs, giving her massages, and getting her some sort of exercise." Andre eyed Dante's burly arms. "I think you can handle that." Dante rubbed his short beard for a moment. "Let's say this for now. I'll take you up on the room and board for at least the next few days. We'll try my techniques on Claudia and see if we can chivvy her out of her mood. If it works, I stay, and I start drawing some pay. We can discuss dollars then. If not, maybe my agency will have found me something by then." He stuck out his hand. "Deal?" "Deal." Andre shook on it. "Let's see about getting your car here, at a minimum." "Great! On the way, you can give me a rundown on her medical condition and what her doctor has already tried." "Sure thing," said Andre.

*** Dante tried not to groan aloud when Andre bent over and stuck his head deep inside the engine of his old Chevy. God, the man was blessed with the most impressive butt he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. Dante looked up at the sky and prayed quietly for strength. For the most part, he'd stayed away from the Peters couple at meetings to hide his lust. And that's all it was, he told himself sternly. Lust. The Society for History's most gorgeous couple had just hired him. Andre was a stunner of a man, with black hair shot with a few strands of silver. The sleek, pantherlike man had no idea Dante was bi, and Dante intended to keep that little secret well buried. Still, he wanted to moan every time Andre shoved his silver glasses on his nose with that serious look. Dante had a weakness for glasses.

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Andre was muttering and occasionally reaching for a socket, only to curse and change it. "But this is a job." Dante muttered to himself. "I'll help restore bewitching Lady Claudia to health, then move on as usual." "I'm sorry, did you say something?" Andre looked up from under the hood; his arms still buried somewhere deep in the complexities of the car engine Dante did not even pretend to understand. "Uh, I'm sorry to be an idiot about such things. Cars and I don't get along." Andre grinned. "Don't sweat it. I do. Looks like just simple neglected maintenance. Your fuel filter needs changing. We should be able to nurse it back to the house in a few minutes. Then I'll go get a new one while you work on Claudia's first massage and treatment." He ducked back under the hood, cursing mildly. "This old bitch just needs a little loving care, is all. We'll include that in the room and board. Won't take me but a few days to have her running like a top. Hope you can do the same for my wife. Your ideas just might work." Dante laughed. "Same sort of thing, really. Just a little tough love required on both of them." Banging sounded from under the hood, followed by a stronger curse. "Ouch! Goddammit! And both just as stubborn. Hand me that WD-40 can, willya? I got a tough nut here." Dante handed over the can of spray lubricant. "Both are tough nuts, I'll say that. I'm glad you told me what has already been tried on Claudia. Now I know what level to start at." The hiss of spray, one loud bang, and the sound of a socket wrench turning heralded a satisfied grunt from Andre. "This tough love idea impresses me. You're right. We've been too gentle." Andre's head popped out from under the hood. There was now an impressive smear of filthy grease marring his face. "Start her up. Let's see if we managed a little field surgery, doc."

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Dante snapped his head up. He hadn't been called that in years. Navy corpsmen were always called "Doc" by their units. He hadn't told anyone he'd been a corpsman. Andre grinned. "Did you think I wouldn't notice or recognize the caduceus tattoo on your arm?" Dante looked down at the tattoo on his bicep, barely visible under his tee shirt. He'd forgotten. His whole corpsman class had celebrated their graduation by getting a caduceus on their right arm. It was practically a tradition to have one. "I'd forgotten you were a Navy man yourself," Dante replied. He dug for his keys and got behind the wheel. "Not anymore. I'll be working at Jefferson County airport starting in two weeks. Aircraft maintenance. Thank God I went ahead and got the Air Frame and Power Plants certification while I was still in. Saved my ass." Dante cranked the car before muttering under his breath, "And a damn fine ass it is too." His Chevy roared to life. Andre hopped into the passenger seat. "Whew! That's a miracle. Let's nurse this old gal back to my garage." The drive back was not long, but the old Chevy fought it every inch. She coughed and sputtered her way into the driveway before giving a massive groan and dying again. They ended up pushing her into the garage. Andre dove back under the hood, whistling happily. Waving Dante off, he told him to go unpack and make himself at home in the bedroom in the basement. Dante escaped gratefully, lugging the suitcase that contained his clothes before coming back for the two boxes that were all his possessions. After a short shower, Dante changed into what he would call his "working outfit" for the next few days. He checked the fit of his swim trunks in the mirror over the bureau. "Decent" he complimented himself, before sliding on a pair of jeans over the swimsuit. "No sense giving the plan away too soon. After lunch, Lady Claudia, you have a surprise coming." He snatched up his massage kit and ran upstairs to prepare lunch.

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If Claudia showed any surprise at the introduction of Dante as her new medical companion over lunch, Dante didn't see it. She nodded mechanically, and then ate listlessly the half-sandwich Dante slid in front of her. Andre, on the other hand, wolfed down the shrimp salad sandwich like a starving man. "This is great! Man, you can cook!" "It was learn or starve," Dante answered mildly. "Eating healthy was something I made sure my clients did on a regular basis." If the salad brought that sort of reaction, he couldn't wait to show Andre what he had planned with the three steaks he'd found in the freezer. After lunch, Dante kept Claudia in the tiny eating nook while he cleaned up and set up the steaks in the marinade. Claudia hardly spoke, but Dante caught her eyes flash a time or two with a small spark of interest as he chattered to her and sang along with the radio. He even caught her mouthing the words to a particularly catchy tune's chorus. Finally, Dante was rewarded for his efforts. "What music is this?" Claudia rasped out, her voice harsh from long disuse and the damage the tracheotomy had done. Dante decided humor was in order. "Why Ma'am, this here's country music. Living, loving, and leaving songs by those who understand it all too well." His patently fake drawl caused her lips to twitch. "I like classical." Dante dried his hands and stood behind the wheelchair. "You can have that during your massage. But first, a little therapy." Before she could protest, he had her out the patio doors and parked beside the pool. The summer heat slapped them both in the face. Locking the brakes, Dante picked her up. "You are a little bit of nothing, aren't you? You've lost too much weight. You need some exercise." Claudia stuck her chin out in that much-photographed stubborn look she'd shown the media for years. "What sort?"

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"Shock therapy." Without further warning, he dumped her in the pool, clothes and all.

Chapter Two Dante stripped off his jeans at the pool edge, watching as Claudia came up sputtering and angrier than a cat. That glorious red hair, now shoulder-length instead of the waist-length mane it had been before the accident, was a matted mess over one eye. Her skirt floated around her tits, proving she was a real redhead who wore no panties. No bra either, the wet blouse revealed. "Bastard!" she shrieked, swimming to the shallow end where the steps were. Dante ran to the steps, and stood on the lowest level with his arms folded and looking implacable. "Oh, no, Claudia. You are going to swim and get some exercise. Swimming is good for you, and it won't hurt your back. You wouldn't want to get flabby, would you?" "Sonofabitch! I'm in clothes, not a swimsuit! And I don't want to swim." "So take off the clothes. I'm your medical companion, and I'm going to see you buck ass naked a lot. You may as well get used to the idea right now." Claudia was so angry she didn't notice she was standing in the water, supported only from the waist down, and Dante wasn't about to point that out to her. He grinned to himself, though. Claudia pulled her hair out of her eyes and looked pointedly at the erection Dante made no effort to hide. "You aren't immune, though." He shrugged. "So, I'm human. It's a natural reaction to a wet, beautiful woman, even if she looks as if she'd love to have me flayed alive." In fact, it was more exciting to see Claudia back to her old vibrant self. Claudia ground her teeth visibly. "Why you arrogant bastard." "You already called me that once. Do try to be more inventive. Like it or not, I've been hired to whip you back into shape, Claudia. And if that means carrying you bodily

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to the pool kicking and screaming, at least amuse me with some colorful invective. Now," he added sternly, pointing to the deep end of the huge pool, "Swim! I won't let you out until I'm satisfied." Claudia folded her arms and stuck out her chin. "Until you're satisfied," she repeated. "Satisfied how?" "Now you are being provocative. But, it is a fair question. Until I have been satisfied you have gotten some exercise that won't hurt your back." He modified his tone to wheedling. "And for a reward, you'll get a massage with my specially warmed oils." "Some reward," she sniffed. "I hate massages. They hurt. And every masseur I've ever had thought it was his duty to crack my back. That really hurts." "Mine won't hurt." She sniffed again. "Bet me?" Dante laughed, "I'll take that bet." He sat down on the middle step and made himself comfortable. "Where did I get outmaneuvered here?" Claudia asked, obviously to herself. "If you hurt me, your forfeit will be you never massage me again." "Agreed." Dante grinned, confident in his ability. "And your forfeit will be that you have to attend the next Historical Society meeting with me." "I won't go in my wheelchair!" "Then you'd better get swimming, hadn't you? You have two weeks to get those atrophied and flabby muscles in shape." "I'm not flabby!" Feminine pride had her yanking off her blouse and skirt and throwing them to Dante. Then she swam away, using an easy breaststroke. He caught the wet clothes and didn't point out again that she'd just used considerable force without injuring her back. But, it was a great way to spend an hour, watching Claudia swim naked. A guy had to have some perks in what was normally a nasty, hard job. He spread the blouse and skirt to dry on the decking, and settled in to enjoy the show.

***

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Andre came in, showered, and changed into clean clothes. Still toweling his wet hair, he strode back downstairs to hunt up Dante and give him the good news about his car. Moans of pleasure floated down the hall to the strains of Brahms' Lullaby leading to the living room. Andre paused just out of sight and listened. "Oh, God, that feels good. A little to the left. Ah! Right there! Oh, yeeeessss!" Claudia's voice was husky with enjoyment. "Oh, God, don't stop or I'll have to kill you!" Andre saw red, and stepped around the corner. Visions of killing Dante in a variety of ways were quickly replaced with the reality of seeing Claudia on a massage table, eyes half-closed and — by, all that was holy — smiling! Andre just stopped and stared. "Mmmmm!!! Hi sweetheart!" Claudia called out. Andre approached, smiling cautiously. "Who is this naked goddess in my living room?" he asked, tentatively. His eyes roamed up and down, from her red hair piled messily on top of her head to pink toes, slick with some fragrant oil. "The last time my wife got a massage, I was afraid she'd turned into a banshee." Claudia chuckled. "He deserved it, the sadist." Andre closed his mouth with an audible snap. He wanted very badly to dance, shake Dante's hand and call him a miracle worker. In just a few short hours, Claudia was back to her old self. All he could think of was a quote from the Wicked Witch of the West, "These things must be handled delicately…" But Claudia could read him like a book. "Poor Andre! He desperately wants to ask what caused this miraculous change in my attitude. Shall we show him, Dante?" Dante grinned and wiped his hands on a towel. "Sure. But no over-doing it." Claudia rolled over on the table, and accepted Dante's hand in aid while she sat up. Dante came around the table and held her left hand while she got up off the table, then he let go of her hand. And she walked. Only a few steps, but she walked. Straight to Andre, with Dante standing guard on her left, ready to catch, but not touching.

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She wobbled on the last step and half-fell into Andre's arms giggling. Andre couldn't believe it. Holding on to his oil slick, naked wife, Andre was so dumbfounded all he could manage was, "How?" Dante came to his rescue and helped keep her on her feet. "All Claudia needed was a reason to get up. I pissed her off." He opened his mouth to say more, but Claudia interrupted. "Oh, we can tell him over dinner. You promised me steaks! And after working my ass off I deserve one! Um, can I get dressed now?" "Damn right we can have steaks! And champagne! Let's get you dressed, gorgeous. Not that I mind seeing you naked," Andre leered. Dante nodded and stepped away, now that Andre had recovered from the shock. "A celebration we shall have then, my lady! Why don't you two go get Claudia something fancy to wear while I cook?" Claudia gave the wheelchair one hate-filled glance and demanded, "And I'm sitting in a real chair tonight!" Andre laughed and swept her into his arms. "Anything you want, my love! Anything!" "Anything?" she replied archly as he carried her up the stairs.

*** Claudia luxuriated in the shower, shampooing her own hair for the first time in months. It was nearly a religious experience. "Clean, clean, clean!" she moaned. Andre stood in the shower with her, holding her up while she poured conditioner into her palm and acted like she was going to orgasm at any moment. She didn't care if she was acting like an idiot. It was too wonderful to feel truly clean after those little "bird baths" she'd had in the hospital, and having to soak in a tub with Andre humiliatingly doing the scrubbing. There was nothing to compare with doing it yourself. She had her pride back. "I'm going to miss giving you a bath," Andre murmured in her ear. "But seeing you so happy is worth losing that little privilege."

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Claudia grinned, and handed him the sponge and liquid soap. "You can still scrub my back, darling." Then she lifted her hair over one shoulder, and planted both hands on the wall to brace herself on her still shaky legs. "Woman, you kill me." Andre lathered up the sponge. Claudia knew how much Andre enjoyed seeing his wife grinning and leaning up against a wall, spread-eagle, with her ass presented for his perusal. He didn't disappoint her this time. His hard cock pressed between her ass cheeks, as he slathered her back with the rose-scented soap. "Are you sure, baby?" His hand slid around to gently cup one breast while his cock twitched its eagerness to slide home. Claudia felt herself get incredibly wet in anticipation. "What, didn't you get any while I was out of commission, darling? You are acting like a starving man," Claudia teased. They'd had an open agreement between them for years that sexual contact with others was fine as long as it was discreet and nothing was brought home that required a doctor. "Shaddup and spread, wench." Claudia braced herself, spread, and was instantly impaled. Andre's cock, a good eight or nine inches long, slammed home. It had been a long dry spell, and Claudia felt how tight she had become. God, she was wet for it, all she could get. "Gimme!" she ground out between her teeth. Andre started off slowly, barely moving, giving her time to open up. "I'm not going to last long, Dee," he said between pants, using the nickname only he called her. "Jeez, you are tight." He picked up the pace. "More later. Just fuck me now," she begged. Andre was always willing for more, if she allowed him time to recover. Andre grabbed her hips, ostensibly for balance, but also to help her remain upright and began to pound hard and fast, just the way she liked it. She loved it when his balls bounced against her clit, and his pubic hair tickled her ass. And he was doing a good job of it, this time. Her brain clicked offline, and all she could do was feel the triple

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sensation of getting thoroughly and completely fucked. Her back gave a twinge, but she didn't care. She could stand a little pain when she was getting great sex from behind. Andre was good for that, and for giving great face. He wasn't thick, but he was long, and she could feel every inch of him stimulating her wet pussy, sliding in and out in a fast rhythm. Without any conscious thought, Claudia's mind supplied the image of Andre giving her the tongue while Dante fucked her. Where had that come from? Oh, well, fantasy was okay. She could see it, and feel it. In a 69 with Andre while Dante plugged her from behind. Andre had the best-tasting cock, worth taking the time to suck well. Dante's cock had been nothing to sneeze at, her memory supplied. Not long, but thick, nearly as thick as her wrist. She wondered what he would taste like, what it would be like to have him fuck her while Andre licked and nibbled at her clit. The image was too much, and she felt the tremors that warned her she was going to have one helluva shrieking orgasm. Andre could feel them too, and he responded, thrusting in deep, hard strokes. Claudia let it build, holding the fantasy in her mind until she imploded. Her whole world fixed on her orgasm, running in waves like a multiple tsunami until she was indeed shrieking and clawing at the tiles of the shower wall. Andre held on for as long as he could, but Claudia knew the tightening and relaxation of her pussy walls would send him over the edge like nothing else. His strokes became the short fast kind that always heralded his own pleasure. She could hear his harsh pants over the spray of the shower. Then he gave one deep, hard thrust and one sharp cry. She could feel his cock quivering as it released all his cream inside, and the tiny thrusts he now made were the signal he was giving her all he had. When they had both stopped panting and quivering, Andre carried her out to the bed, her hair wrapped in a towel. "Why don't you rest for an hour, Dee? It's only 4:30. I'll come back up and help you dress, I promise."

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Claudia refused to admit that her back had taken all it could stand for the moment. Taking a nap seemed a good way to assuage her pride with an excuse to not strain it further. She'd take a pain pill as soon as Andre was gone. "Okay, but only an hour." Andre smiled and kissed her softly. "Thank you, baby." Then he was gone. Claudia reached for the pills and swallowed one dry. "Be damned if I admit this," she told the china clock on the nightstand. "Come on, pill, do your thing. Two incredibly gorgeous men and steaks are waiting for me." Her back muscles quivered in response, and she waited for the pain to lessen.

Chapter Three It was Dante who came to wake Claudia and get her dressed one hour later. "Andre insisted on setting the table in the dining room, so let's get you into something pretty, shall we?" Dante asked, already rummaging through her closet. Claudia blinked groggily and did a fast self-assessment. Her back was no longer hurting, at least, but she decided not to push her luck and lay there waiting until she had to move. "Ah-ha!" Dante exclaimed triumphantly and pulled out an elegant black halter dress she'd not worn in quite some time. "You've lost a bit of weight since I saw your photo in Populace magazine wearing this, but it should do." Dante had her dressed and her hair piled elegantly on top of her head with a rhinestone clip in next to no time. Claudia stared in the mirror. "You should have been a hairdresser, Dante. Not bad for an amateur." She pulled down a few artistic curls and attacked her makeup case. Her hands wouldn't work as well as usual, but she managed to not make a mess. Mascara was out of the question. No way was she coming at her eyes with it when her hands wouldn't obey perfectly. She put the tube back. "You don't need it anyway," Dante commented. He scooped her up and carried her downstairs. "I'll let you make an entrance on your own two feet, but I think the stairs are still a bit much right now. Give it a few days, okay?" Claudia's head spun for a moment, so she agreed, "Okay. No stairs. Not yet." To cover her lost pride she added, "That way we'll have more small triumphs to celebrate, hmm?" "Good notion." He put her down just outside the dining room doors, and held her a shade longer than necessary to get her balance.

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Another small triumph, Claudia thought. You aren't as unaffected by me as you'd like to pretend, are you? There was something deliciously naughty about knowing she could still raise a man's blood pressure, even if he wasn't her husband. After months of feeling like a slightly dysfunctional machine to the people around her, it was nice to know she was human again. Even Andre had stopped treating her like she was made of spun glass, now that she'd gotten him to fuck her silly. Unbidden, the fantasy she'd had in the shower came back. Claudia felt her cheeks flush, not with embarrassment, but with excitement. Damn, she was horny again. It did not improve when Dante strode over and stood next to Andre to await her entrance. Seeing those two handsome men together was enough to excite any woman, in her opinion. Dante looked like a typical longhaired blond barbarian in his jeans and blue tee shirt with his tattoo barely visible on a corded bicep. Andre was his visual opposite, black hair shot with silver and glasses, dressed in black silk like the sophisticated urbanite he could be when he chose. Both were her fantasies come to life. "And you expect me to think about food when such a smorgasbord of handsome men is sitting across from me?" Oops. Where had that come from? Andre was oblivious to any implications and poured her champagne. "Say that when you see what Dante can do in a kitchen," he laughed. "You look lovely, baby. A tempting morsel yourself." Dante laughed and brought in a bowl of salad. "Since I didn't cook a dessert, we could always cover her with whipped cream," he offered. Andre eyed Claudia full-length, as if he were really considering the possibilities. "Have we got any maraschino cherries?" "Those science experiments that once resembled life forms? No." Dante chuckled. "After Claudia's morning workout, I'll go get replacements for all the stuff I chucked in the trash this afternoon, if you like." He held Claudia's chair out, and got her seated before making his way to his place at the table. "Geez, Andre, what have you been living on? Air?"

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Andre looked sardonic and raised one eyebrow before picking up his fork. "Long as I don't have to do grocery shopping, I'll give you my debit card. I've been making the mortgage payments for the local burger joints, mostly. Dee doesn't, er, didn't care what I put in front of her." "True," Claudia reassured him. "But now I do! I'm digging in." She needed something in her stomach, and quickly. The pain pill was making her woozy. She sniffed dramatically. "This smells like heaven!" The salad, steaks, and dinner rolls disappeared with moans of satisfaction and compliments to Dante. Andre took the champagne out of the ice and flourished three flutes from the sideboard while Dante cleared the table. Claudia pouted at being forbidden by Andre to help until Dante kissed her hand and smiled winningly. "You just sit there and look lovely. You are the guest of honor at our little celebration." "Machiavellian," Claudia accused. Recognizing the flattery and not responding to it were two different things. She allowed herself to subside and waited patiently for Andre to hand her a flute of sparkling golden liquid. Andre toasted first. "To my lovely wife. May your recovery be swift!" Dante took a very small sip and added, "To small triumphs that add up to large ones." The conversation was lively and erudite. Dante and Andre argued companionably about all the subjects usually considered taboo at the dinner table: religion, politics, and money. Claudia jumped in to play referee almost as much as she voiced her own opinion as the bottle emptied and a second from the refrigerator was opened. When the topic degenerated into reshaping the world into their own views, Claudia marched them both into the living room and sat between them on the sofa to avoid a fistfight. They never paused in their debate between a benevolent autocracy and democracy, even when she got up and put Strauss on the stereo. Claudia listened with a slightly tipsy grin on her face. The champagne had undone all the good of dinner, and she was doing her best to maintain a proper mien.

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She wasn't the only one who was feeling a little buzzed. Andre, who normally didn't indulge due to alcoholic parents, was merry. He gestured with his champagne flute in Dante's general direction, slopping a little on Claudia while exclaiming, "You try and explain this, Dante. What makes the opinion of many idiots better than the opinions of one? Hmm? Answer me that! Hah!" Dante was perhaps the most sober. He was still nursing his second glass, and seemed in complete control. "The whole world isn't composed of idiots, Andre. Most people do have a brain. And when there's a choice…" "But that's what I'm saying," Andre interrupted. "They don't need a choice! The needs of the many outweigh the needs of a few special interest groups." This time, his gesture spilled a lot more champagne on Claudia. Claudia couldn't stop the yelp of surprise when cold champagne splashed all over her, and a small trickle made its way down the keyhole in her halter dress and dribbled its icy way between her breasts. Andre immediately began apologizing profusely while Dante ran for towels from the kitchen. If the lithe way he was moving was any indication, he was as sober as a judge. It was a pleasure to watch that gravity-defying butt clad in tight denim recede from view. "It's all right Andre darling," Claudia said soothingly, as she ran her fingers through Andre's black and silver hair. "I won't melt, despite evidence to the contrary upon occasion. Life just hasn't been the same since the house fell on my sister," she joked. Andre lapsed into uncharacteristic giggles. "We're both a bit tipsy, Dee," he observed. "Or else just very happy," offered Claudia. His blue-gray eyes focused on her smiling face. "Don't break Pretty Boy's heart, okay? I kind of like him." The hilarity of the situation, being told by her husband not to break another man's heart, struck Claudia's sense of humor. She burst into gales of laughter and hugged Andre.

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"Ahem!" They jerked apart like a pair of naughty children. Dante handed Andre a towel. "Hate to break up your little secret society meeting, but we need to blot up Claudia's gown." His aquamarine eyes held a twinkle of humor, but he gave no indication he'd heard Andre's comment. Funny how she'd never noticed his eyes were such an unusual shade. "Aww, we hadn't done our secret handshake yet," Andre snickered, and attacked Claudia's lap with vigor. That left Dante to blot her halter top covering her breasts, which he did with clinical precision. There was something slightly erotic about having a strange man rub her tits with a towel, and Claudia felt her nipples crinkle. She wanted desperately to grab a handful of that long blond hair and press his face right to one aching nub. "Are you cold, Claudia?" Dante asked. He looked pointedly at her nipples. "That champagne was probably freezing." "Um," Claudia began. "Am I? I can't tell." Dante stood in one fluid motion. He caught the corner of Andre's towel, where Andre was still diligently trying to sop up the puddle in her lap. "Andre, let's get Claudia upstairs to change. I'm afraid this is hopeless. The dry cleaner is just going to have to hate us," Dante suggested. Claudia watched as the kneeling Andre looked up at Dante and let the suggestion seep past the champagne-soaked brain cells. Now, why did Dante stare at Andre and bite his lip? Something was familiar about that expression, but she couldn't remember what. Andre handed over the towel. "Sounds like a plan, old chum. Help me up, will you?" Dante stepped around Claudia's feet and lifted Andre as easily as if he were a child, not a six-foot tall grown man. They were almost eye-to-eye once Andre was upright. Dante held Andre's shoulders until Andre stopped swaying. Blue denim contrasted

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with black silk. Sun blond and shadow dark, broad shouldered barbarian and sleek, panther-like sophisticate. "God, you both are so pretty," Claudia said, engaging mouth before brain was in gear. Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oops. Sorry." Both men turned. "I'll take that as a compliment. Won't you, Andre?" "I'll take any compliments Dee chooses to dish out. Even if I have to share with a liberal Democrat like you." "Flattery will get you everywhere." "Doesn't even know when he's being insulted," Andre commented to Claudia. "Come on baby. Let's get you upstairs." "I'll be the donk and do the lifting, Andre," Dante offered. "You lead the way to open doors and turn on lights." Dante scooped Claudia up and followed Andre up the stairs. Claudia wound her arms around Dante's neck for balance. Her face was half buried in his silky mane. "Oooo! Pretty blond hair, Dante!" Claudia said. "You should have been a girl. Then I could tell you blonde jokes, and you wouldn't remember them." Dante remarked, "Well, I've heard my share of them over the years." He was not even breathing hard as they made their way ponderously up the stairs, but his heart was pounding as he felt Claudia's breath against his cheek. "Yes," Andre agreed. "What is a blonde's mating call?" he asked Dante spoke in a squeaky falsetto, "I'm sooo drunk!" Then, in his normal voice, he asked, "What is the brunette's mating call?" Andre contrived to look haughty. "Has that damn blonde left yet?" All three giggled. Andre sniggered and looked at Claudia's red hair. "And what is the redhead's mating call?" he prompted. Claudia laughed and exclaimed, "Fleet's in!"

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Andre swayed a moment on the landing, impeding their progress. "And you have a whole fleet to yourself tonight, baby. Dante is an ex-sailor, too." He turned and began to climb again. "Well, that's convenient, isn't it?" Claudia remarked, not knowing what to say next. Dante put her down in the bedroom while Andre wove to a bedside lamp. Light flared, blinding her. "Bright light, bright light!" Claudia complained in the squeaky voice of a movie character from her childhood. The light went back out. In the dark, with just moonlight filtering through the curtains, Dante fumbled with the clasp at the back of her dress while Andre came over and stood in front to assist. The dress lifted over her head, revealing just her black panties. All she'd been wearing underneath was the panties, heels, and perfume. "Whoa," was Dante's soft comment. "Yeah," was Andre's awed response. "Uh, do you need a shower, Claudia?" asked Dante, in a slightly strangled voice. Andre swayed. "Shower, hell, can we lick you clean?" Claudia knew it was now or never to get her fantasy fulfilled. All she had to do was agree. She held up her arms to both men. "Why not?" she laughed. "Fleet's in!"

Chapter Four Dante folded his arms and refused to move, even as Andre gathered Claudia in his arms. He wanted to do exactly as his heart wished and join in without a care. His cock stood up, ignoring his morals. Andre and Claudia were halfway to the bed when they noticed he had not followed. Claudia looked disappointed for a moment, and then her hands flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry, Dante. I just assumed." She cleared her throat. "Um, if you don't want to, that's okay." "It's not that, Claudia," he hastened to assure her. "I'd love to, but Andre hasn't invited me. You two are a pair. I want — no, need — Andre's agreement, or I'm poaching." He gave a lopsided grin. "It's a man thing." His eyes had adjusted to the darkness completely, and he could see Andre staring at him with an unreadable look in his eyes. The scent of Claudia's perfume teased his senses, but there was no taking back the words. Not that he wanted to. But there would be no regrets in the morning. Claudia looked as if she might speak, then clamped her lips together and nodded. She stayed cuddled in Andre's arms, but craned her neck around to look at Dante. Just when the silence lengthened to unbearable levels, Andre straightened up, released Claudia, and walked over to Dante. He clapped him on the shoulder. "You are a good, honest fellow, Dante. I appreciate that. You're absolutely right. I should, or we might have issues between us later." Claudia seemed to realize this needed to be settled before anything could happen. She nodded again, as if approving her own thoughts, then quietly walked about the room lighting a few decorative candles.

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Andre and Dante watched her for a few minutes, wincing as the first candle match flared. It was darn hard to keep your mind on business when a redhead with white skin wearing nothing but high heels and a pair of black lace panties strutted around the room in the glow of candlelight. Dante managed to ignore the ache in his jeans and focus on Andre. Not that looking at Andre in candlelight eased the ache one whit. If anything, he ached more. He sighed once, and made a decision. If he was going to be kicked out of the house, let it be now, or never. But at least he'd walk away an honest man. "Before you make that invitation, Andre, there's something you need to know." Dante swallowed once, and wished he had the champagne he'd left downstairs. God, he was terrified. Taking a deep breath, he plunged in. "I'm bisexual, Andre. And you are as beautiful to me as Claudia. I might be tempted, if you know what I mean." Andre removed his hand from Dante's shoulder, but not with the speed of repulsion. He started to pace. "I see. You do have a problem, there. I'm straight." He turned and held up a hand like a peace offering. "Not that I'm offended by your confession. I'm not stupid. I know it has been done in the Navy since the days of the American Revolution, and I never cared what the men did in their off hours as long as I didn't have to take official notice." He gave Dante a wry grin. "Guess you are making me take official notice. Fair enough. We aren't in the Navy anymore. No one is going to take away our birthday and send us to sea for it." He smiled at the old sailor's joke. Andre walked over and stood in front of Dante. Dante glanced over Andre's shoulder at Claudia. She was biting a knuckle, as if to keep from saying anything. Andre sighed, capturing Dante's attention. "Let's say this for tonight. I'm buzzed enough to have lost a few inhibitions, and I confess that. Let's stick to the rule of not touching tonight, so there'll be no hard words in the morning. We'll see how I feel tomorrow when I've had some time to think about it. Deal?" He stuck out his hand. Dante nearly laughed with relief. "Deal!" They shook on it, and turned as one to Claudia, who now sat in the middle of the bed, worrying her knuckle. She looked up, her eyes wide.

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Dante took in the hardened nipples and flushed skin. "In the meantime, Andre," he suggested with a leer, "we have a wench in need of ravishing by two sailors." Andre looked thoughtfully down at his wife. "Indeed. And look at her trying to hide her delectable wares with that scrap of lace." Dante grinned then chuckled evilly. "I'll concede the field to you, and let you remove it, Andre. I'll take the pleasure of occupying her elsewhere." He took his time removing his shirt and started to strip out of his jeans, proving he'd been going commando all evening.

Claudia's jaw dropped as she got a full view of Dante's erect cock. What she'd seen before peeking out of his swimsuit was nothing compared to the whole reality. While not incredibly long, he was very thick, and she wondered if she'd ever be able to get the whole thing in her mouth. In desperation, she looked at Andre, who was just as busy stripping out of his black outfit. Andre, in an unbidden comparison that slightly shamed her, was longer but not as thick. She knew intimately what he tasted and felt like. His cock, too, was rigidly at attention. He was grinning like a tomcat given the keys to the dairy. Both naked men stalked her from different sides of the king-sized bed. She couldn't keep her eyes on both equally, and the thought of what this night might bring was so erotic, her panties felt soaked. What was going to happen? "Um…shouldn't I be in charge, here?" "No," came the answer in stereo. "Oh," came her voice, sounding weak and high-pitched to her own ears. She wondered if she'd orgasm right there on the spot before they even laid a hand on her. Dante sat on the edge of the bed, arresting her attention. Claudia scooted over a tiny bit, moving her heels in reach of Andre's outstretched hands. Before she could blink, Andre yanked her feet from under her, and pulled her down on her back with her head on the pillows. She didn't even have time to yelp, just gasp.

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Dante chuckled a moment, said "Good job!" and attacked Claudia's right breast with enthusiasm. While mouth and tongue performed services on her nipples, his incredibly soft hand crept up to tweak gently on her right nipple. Vaguely, she was aware of Andre stripping her of her panties slowly, as if he were unwrapping a gift. The bed creaked and moved, as if protesting the unusual weight, but Dante had eased his way to the left breast, obscuring her vision of anything but his broad shoulders. Though she could not have explained the differences between Dante's mouth and Andre's, it was a new sensation. Her hand moved of its own volition to fist itself in Dante's hair. Andre was not to be outdone. His hand crept up her thigh in their personal signal to spread her legs, and she did so, hardly aware of her actions. His hand touched her knee, and she obediently raised both knees in a well-rehearsed move. The candle's fragrance teased her nostrils even as the wick sputtered, distracting her just for an instant. That tiny moment of time was all Andre needed to bury his face between her legs. Claudia gasped in surprise as Andre's experienced tongue found her clit with expert ease. "Mmm," Andre hummed, sending waves of pleasure throughout her entire body. "Somebody's horny," he commented. Dante lifted his face from her nipple, scraping gently with his teeth as he slowly released suction. "She's not the only one." Claudia panted and squirmed as Dante continued to play with a nipple, pinching it between two fingers as if he had never seen one before. Andre must have noticed his fascination. "How long has it been since you, er…" he faltered. Dante's white grin flashed in the candlelight. "Since I've enjoyed a woman? Five years." "Five years? Why so long?" Claudia managed on an intake of breath as he paused to play with the other nipple.

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"Ever try to get a date to come home with you when you live with a sick old lady? Actually, I never got out much, except in Mrs. Jackson's company. Needless to say," he added in a distracted tone, "There're not many dates of any kind to be had in a doctor's office or grocery store, no matter what the romance novels say." Even Andre paused on that last statement. "Romance novels?" he asked in a derisive tone. "That's what Mrs. J liked me to read to her. So I read them. You learn a lot about how to treat a lady from reading what her fantasies are, you know." He chuckled. "Mrs. J liked the racy ones. At least they weren't boring virgins getting ravished." "I like those kind!" Claudia protested. Andre laughed against Claudia's pussy, where he'd returned to his work. The vibrations brought exquisite pleasure. "You two can discuss this later. I suggest we switch positions a bit, Dante. What do you say?" "Mah-velous idea, old chap. Why don't we run with it?" Dante said in some patently false accent. "On your hands and knees, my love. And spread wide. Dante and I are going to give you a lovely surprise." Andre rolled on to his back, and pointed to his face. "C'mere. Whup some skull on yours truly while I feast." "I love it when you talk dirty." Claudia wriggled away from Dante and got into the sixty-nine position with Andre on the bottom. She happily began her own feast, plunging down on Andre's cock with gusto. Dante sat on the bed, right where she'd left him, looking hungrily at Andre's cock as Claudia sucked it down. "I'll behave," he muttered just loud enough for Claudia to hear. She gave him a wink, and wiggled her butt a moment in invitation. Dante got up and moved around to the other side of the bed, since Andre was splayed out horizontally. Claudia followed him with her eyes, giving his cock a hungry look of her own before she returned to a concentrated attack on Andre's rapidly swelling cock. It wouldn't be long before he came if she didn't slow down and pay attention.

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The bed moved once more as it again took Dante's weight, momentarily breaking Andre's suction of her clit. Claudia breathed a small sigh, and didn't stop her bobbing motion, tonguing his cock on her way up. Andre's talented tongue was going to make short work of her, and even a moment's break would extend the pleasure a bit. Dante knelt behind her, and Claudia felt his huge cock poised at her wet opening. He gave her a moment to know he was there, and then slowly began to enter. Claudia gasped and nearly sucked Andre's cock right off his body before she felt her muscles relax and accept. Andre must have liked it, she surmised, because he moaned against her clit, making her shiver and quake with what she termed "preorgasm." Her mind could not hold on and focus on any one sensation as Dante continued to enter slowly, moving another inch in with every down stroke. She tasted pre-cum on the tip of Andre's cock, adding to the scent of his special smell she always found so delectable right at the base of his cock. "If you want to know a man, there was where you put your nose," experience had taught her. Dante began to fuck her rhythmically, moving a little faster and harder. Claudia managed to match the strokes with her sucking, and Andre struggled to keep up in time to the new movements. Her mind could not hold on and focus on any one sensation as Dante continued to enter slowly, moving another inch in with every down stroke. All the things she was doing and were being done to her began to blend until she felt like all her nerve endings were exposed and all her senses at maximum. The scent of Andre's balls melded with the candles. The feeling of being fucked and licked merged until her whole focus was centered right between her legs. Dante's harsh pants were the same as her own, and Andre's warm breath felt like he was breathing fire. Dante's pounding into her now became fiercer and harder, and she let his movements dictate the movements of her mouth. Andre did the same, with tongue and lips staying still while she moved. They merged into one being. It was incredible. Nothing had prepared her for the whole gamut of the sensory experience, and she began to quake. Claudia clawed the sheets and fought the orgasm

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as it built. Her personal ethics demanded that everyone get off, if she had anything to say about it. And she had the control of both men's orgasms. She forced herself to concentrate on three tasks simultaneously. Claudia tightened her muscles around Dante's cock, eliciting a groan of pleasure, and harder thrusts. She willed herself to hold on while she sucked and licked as fiercely and as hard as she dared on Andre's cock and was rewarded with a moan of pleasure. His balls drew up, signaling his impeding orgasm. Dante panted, "I'm going to cum!" at the same moment Andre's moan made her world implode until all she could sense was centered in her pussy. With a muffled shriek, Claudia sucked so hard she feared she would hurt Andre, but that was the impetus that drove him over the edge, and she swallowed a mouthful of salt-sweet cream. Andre released her clit and cried out his orgasm. She couldn't stop cumming, and the spasms of her muscles made sure Dante followed. Some cynical portion of her brain that had no right to be aware noted that, unlike Andre who buried himself to the hilt, Dante orgasmed in small thrusts that sent her screaming with pleasure again. He made no sound except one tiny grunt, that stillobservant portion of her awareness registered. Dante collapsed for just a few breaths on her back, supporting himself on his hands rather than crush both her and Andre beneath him. He panted, and laid his head on her spine while his balls dropped back down to give her one last intimate caress. With one more grunt, he rose back to a kneeling position. Bracing his hands on her ass, he withdrew from her body before falling away to land his head on her pillows. Claudia moved next, with a satisfied sigh. She fell next to Dante, and curled her legs up so as not to kick Andre in the head. The only sounds in the room were the sputtering of a few candles and the rasps of harsh breathing. Andre lay right where she'd left him, sprawled out as if the cool night air might leech some heat from his body. He was the first to speak. "Oh, gawd," was all he managed. One hand rose weakly to wipe his chin. "I thought I'd drown." Laughter bubbled inside Claudia, but all she could manage was a breathy giggle.

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Dante wheezed an out of breath chuckle. "Since I'm on the outside, why don't I see if I can make it to the bathroom for warm washrags?" he offered. "And a glass of water?" begged Andre. "How about I stagger downstairs once I'm more sure of my footing and get an ice tea for each of us?" Dante got up and tottered toward the bathroom to breathlessly enthusiastic cries of agreement.

*** A few minutes later, Dante managed to look reasonably steady on his feet as he carried three ice-cold tea glasses in on a tray. Putting the tray on a nightstand, he collected used washrags and returned them to the bathroom. What to do now was the question. Should he presume to sit on the bed and nonchalantly drink his tea, chatting in the afterglow? Should he just say goodnight and take his tea downstairs to his room? Andre was already sitting up, propped on the headboard and cuddling Claudia. Dante hesitated at the door between the bathroom and the bedroom, unsure of his welcome. "Well, come on, Dante. It's traditional to cuddle the lady after you've abused her so, and we definitely should!" Andre encouraged. Needing no further invitation, Dante sat in the silence with one arm draped casually around Claudia. The tea glasses emptied and were returned to the tray without one word uttered. Claudia eventually snuggled down, and her eyelids fluttered shut. A soft, purring snore issued charmingly from her, eliciting indulgent smiles from both men. Andre winked at Dante. "Good" A yawn interrupted. "Night." He arranged himself comfortably down, still holding the slumbering Claudia. "See you in the morning." Dante got up, picked up the tray, and made his way to the door. Once glance back showed Andre's eyes closing in the guttering candlelight. Dante put the tray on the floor and blew out what candles still burned before taking the tray to make his way

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downstairs. He looked back once on the landing. "Good night. I just hope you don't regret this in the morning."

Chapter Five Andre awoke the next morning feeling wonderful. Great sex always left him with an emotional glow. Then the memory of last night's antics came back to him. The specifics had him both wincing and half-smiling. What a night! He rolled over and gazed at his slumbering wife. They'd never taken down her hair, so she still looked elegant, even sprawled naked over three quarters of the bed with a satisfied smirk curving her lips. The smell of sex and Claudia's perfume drifted to his nostrils. If the smirk and spread-eagle position were any indication, she wasn't uncomfortable, but he covered her with the blanket anyway. He wanted her to sleep as long as possible while he talked with Dante, man to man. He forced himself to the shower, but as he soaped and rinsed he kept worrying about the implications of last night. The slight headache from the champagne didn't help. By the time he made his way down the stairs, the scent of coffee lured him into the kitchen. Dante was awake, and bless him, had made a pot of the elixir of life. Andre staggered into the kitchen and made a beeline for the pot. The hot black brew seared his tongue, but acted like a balm. He swallowed and sighed with relief. Dante waited for him patiently in the breakfast nook. "Couldn't you even manage to look slightly hung over?" Andre complained. "And good morning to you," Dante said softly, and then brandished the aspirin bottle. He shook out two, and presented them on his palm. "You are forgiven, you fucking liberal Democrat." Andre snatched the pills and swallowed a gulp of coffee to wash them down. "Thank you, you fucking conservative Republican. I love you, too." There was no rancor in the low reply.

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Andre decided to let that last pass. He wasn't up to dealing with that, yet. He owed Dante, and he wouldn't forget it. He'd resigned himself to the fact he even liked the guy. Who else could argue with him so cheerfully and intelligently? Dante looked with pity on him, and suggested, "Would you like some toast before we have that talk we both know we need, and give that aspirin time to work?" "Oh, God, yes." Toast, butter, and jelly appeared, and he ate with single-minded intensity. By the time he wiped the last crumbs from his lips, he was feeling like he might be able to think again. Dante got up and refilled both their mugs. Instead of returning the carafe to the stand, he put it on a placemat within easy reach. "Much as I'd like to say my piece, I think I'll let you go first. You seem a little upset, so if I don't understand something, I'll ask. Fair enough?" Dante saluted Andre with his mug, then sipped placidly. With a nod, Andre returned the salute. "Okay, let's get right down to the first order of business." He drew breath, winced, but doggedly went on. "I'd like you to stay." He smiled wryly. "In the cold light of morning, I can say that without reservation. Your one-day miracle with Claudia proves we need you." Dante shot one eyebrow up. "We? I can understand that Claudia needs me. But what makes you say 'we'?" Andre looked uncomfortable, then shrugged. "What the hell. Besides the fact that you can cook like a chef, and take care of Claudia? I don't know. Maybe I like having someone to argue with." He'd be damned if he admitted out loud he needed a friend. Dante just grinned and slugged down a large gulp of coffee. "Fair enough. You don't happen to like football, would you? The Broncos are playing the Patriots in the first exhibition game of the season next week." Andre brightened. "Yeah, I like it. You aren't going to make me eat healthy shit during the game, are you?" "No girl food during games. Chips, dips, salsa, and beer."

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"That's more like it. Pizza?" "With extra meat. I like listening to my arteries slam shut by the end of the first half." Andre poured himself more coffee. The sound of the shower turning on upstairs warned him they had only a few more minutes. His glance up at the ceiling warned Dante, whose ears were less sensitive than his. Dante nodded. "Right. Let's move on." Andre cleared his throat. "The sexual issue." He stalled and sipped. "Let's take this in bits and bytes. I don't mind that you are bi. I can deal with that." Dante closed his eyes briefly in relief. He wasn't about to admit his bags were packed and waiting, just in case the answer had been the opposite. "If you can say that in the cold light of morning, I believe you. Listen, Andre. This is important to me. I think Claudia liked what happened last night. It probably will happen again. How do you feel about that?" Dante's face was earnest. "I'm jealous, I'll admit. I'm not used to sharing. Not in front of my face, anyway. But I think I can deal. It isn't going to be easy, getting used to sharing my wife with another man, and that's no lie." Andre bit his lip. "And, uh, there's the size comparison." Andre held up his hand to forestall Dante. "I know it's childish." Dante accepted that with a nod. "I can understand that. Your first issue is a territorial thing." A small quirk to one side of his mouth twitched. "I'll try to keep in mind you were here first. As far as size is concerned, I don't think that's an issue except in your own mind." Dante's face flamed. "You are going to be more experienced with women than I am. Claudia is my fifth. Ever." "No shit?" Andre tried to keep the awe out of his voice. "But, but —" Dante sighed, and his face got redder. "I, uh, was kicked out of the Navy on the suspicion of being gay. I'm not. I'm bi. And I was celibate the entire tour."

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Andre put his hand out and patted Dante's shoulder. "I believe you. But I know those kangaroo courts are possible. They gave you the usual admin discharge, since they couldn't prove anything?" Dante nodded. Andre removed his hand, but slowly, and with a friendly last pat. "Then we'll consider the matter closed. We can't change the past. But there's the future. And it all revolves around Claudia." Dante nodded, and looked relieved. "The fact of the matter is that it all depends on Claudia. We share only when she says we do. She's the fulcrum. Let's make a deal that we won't question which one she likes better. We are both different, and that may be the appeal." He paused and drank deeply. "One last question. What are you going to do if I touch you when we play? It might happen by accident, it might happen on purpose." Andre looked away and stared out in the kitchen. "I won't deck you. Other than that, I don't know." He smiled wryly. "But somehow, I get the impression you're a wily sort. You'll talk me into something, someday." He couldn't admit, even now, that he was curious. "Figured me out, have you?" Dante wasn't the least insulted by being called wily. "No, this is the one area where I never cross the line without permission. But I admit, I'd love to give you a blowjob sometime." Andre ran his fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture that had lost him many a poker game. Knowing it was one of his "tells" didn't help. "I…I think I could handle that. Maybe." If ever Andre had a weakness, it was gambling. He kept it under control, most of the time. "Call me a manipulative son of a bitch, but I'll bet you can't tell if you close your eyes," Dante suggested. "Ha! Need I point out the facial hair on your chinny-chin-chin? It would give you away in a heartbeat."

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Dante gave a slow smile of triumph. "I'll make a wager on it. Free massage if you can tell." Andre recognized the trap and replied warily, "And if I cannot?" This would be an easy bet. "Easy. I get to finish the blow job." "I'm willing," came a soft feminine voice from the door. Claudia, wet hair already braided and wearing some butter yellow scraps of material that might loosely be termed a bathing suit, leaned against the doorway. "What's more, with two of us, we can do a Seattle Swing BJ." Dante snorted his coffee, but managed to nod agreement. Andre turned a puzzled and wary expression on his smirking wife. "What's that?" Claudia reached in the fridge and pulled out a cold bottle of Frapuccino before answering. "One makes their mouth hot, one cold. And since Dante has so liberally anointed his sinuses, he gets hot." She pointed at Dante, who had been discreetly wiping his nose with a napkin. She popped the top on her Frapuccino, and put the untasted bottle on the table before kneeling next to Andre's right. "A bet's a bet, baby," she said solemnly. "Close your eyes and no peeking." Her creamy smile told Andre she was really turned on by the idea. Her nipples looked like little rocks inside her swimsuit. Andre shot one desperate look at Dante, who didn't move. He was trapped. A small and very secret part of him wanted to, just to satisfy curiosity. The gambler in him thought it was an easy bet. They were drowning out his morals. "He has to agree to the bet first, Claudia." Dante crossed his arms and looked challengingly at Andre. Andre closed his eyes. "I accept the bet." He felt himself tremble. Was he really going to do this? Stone cold sober and no excuses? He refused to be a weak-willed idiot. A bet was a bet, and he was sure he could win. Claudia's mouth was sure to be smaller than Dante's. That massage was going to feel good.

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Andre kept his eyes tightly shut while he heard the table moved away. That had to be Dante's strength. He heard the rustle of clothing and shuffling. They were exchanging places to ensure he didn't know who was on his right or left. It was Claudia's smaller hands that spread his knees apart. That much he knew. His zipper went down, and again it was Claudia's smaller hands that opened his snap and freed his cock. Andre gripped the seat of his chair and slid forward. More shuffling, then he heard the stereo turn on. He didn't recognize the music except that it was something from Claudia's classical collection. A blindfold slid over his eyes. At first, he stiffened in automatic protest, and then relaxed. They were right. He would be tempted to peek. It was Claudia's smaller hand, he thought, stroking his flaccid cock. That felt good, and he allowed it to happen without protest. Yes, getting him at least semi-hard made sense. In fact, it felt damn good. He relaxed further. When the familiar tightness of a decent hard-on was there, the hand withdrew. Andre felt a warm silk scarf wrap around the bottom portion of his cock. "That's cheating. I won't be able to tell whose hand holds me," he protested. "That's the idea," replied Claudia from his right. "The bet is you won't be able to tell whose mouth it is." "Uh, true." Silence fell, except for the rustle of clothing. They were moving, so he wouldn't know what direction either of them were in. Without warning, a tongue descended and licked the head of his cock. It was warm, and moist. Andre tried to ascertain if he felt facial hair. He couldn't. He remained silent. Another lick. Andre forced himself to stillness. A mouth wrapped the head of his cock. He couldn't tell. The mouth suckled briefly, and then released. Andre's cock twitched of its own accord, wanting more. A mouth — was it the same one? — suckled again. The mouth descended, taking him all in.

Lena Austin

Room to Play

- 40 -

He was surrounded by heat and pressure. Teeth scraped on the way up, and the tongue soothed on the way down. He couldn't tell. A few long, loving scrapes, and then the mouth released him. Shit, he was losing. Aw, damn. What was worse, it felt great either way. One tongue was definitely more talented, but both felt wonderful. The second mouth, subtly different from the first, repeated the procedure. Again, Andre could not feel facial hair, and knew he'd lost the bet. At the third stroking of the tongue, he moaned, "I lose." The mouth withdrew, and he felt the blindfold move. "No, please don't remove the blindfold," Andre begged. "I don't want to know. Let me accept slowly." He wouldn't welsh. His pride demanded it, no matter how much his morals were screaming. There was a shuffling, barely audible above the music. He heard something scrape. Claudia's voice spoke softly in his ear. "Let's get naked and enjoy the rug."

Chapter Six Andre contented himself with a jerky nod. His world had been rocked enough for one morning. He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, and undressed like a doll. His mind wouldn't quite wrap around the concept that a man had given him some skull and he couldn't tell the difference between that man and his own wife. What was next? Could he actually…his mind skittered away from the next step possible. "One thing at a time," he muttered. "That's right," said Dante's voice in his ear. "Lie down on the rug, Andre. A blowjob is all, for now. Just that, from me. No more." Andre obeyed the subtle pushes and tugs on his hand, as he walked the few steps to the den. The hand in his was definitely Claudia's. When he had knelt on the rug, his hand was lifted to cup a naked and very full breast. Claudia's. Claudia plastered herself fully up against Andre and kissed him passionately. His right hand was busy tweaking a nipple, but his left reached between her thighs to encounter wet heat. A moan from Claudia vibrated his tongue. She was wet and ready. He'd never felt her hotter. "Does it turn you on to see me get sucked like that, Claudia?" he asked when he'd freed his mouth. Claudia began to push him down to lie on his back. "Yes," she moaned again. "It's been a fantasy of mine for years. Remember I work, er, worked with a lot of gay men. I got used to their ways. It turns me on to share you." Her voice took on a shade of humor. "I got an 'A' in sharing in kindergarten." As Andre's head touched the carpet, Claudia wiggled away from his reach. Then he felt her stuff a pillow under his head. One of the pillows from the den sofa, he guessed. There was a rustle, and Claudia straddled his head.

Lena Austin

Room to Play

- 42 -

"Good idea, Dee. Distract me, please." A sopping wet pussy was shoved in his face, right where he could get at it with no effort. Now, this was more like it! A sweet pussy to distract him and help him purge leftover guilt. He went to work, trying to ignore two tongues now equally busy on his cock. There was no hiding the participants, and they didn't even try. Still, it was difficult to tell who was doing what. A small shudder ripped through him, and he finally admitted it. It felt good, and he was enjoying it. So what? He wouldn't go to Captain's Mast for it. They couldn't take away his birthday and send him to sea. Some small knot in his stomach released its hold on his conscience. Fuck guilt. He wasn't a wuss. He liked it. Big deal. The soft giggles from Claudia, and deeper hums of pleasure vibrated pleasantly. Someone was enthusiastically sucking on his shaft, and someone was in the process of sucking on his balls. The double sensation was keeping him from giving Claudia good face, but if she minded, it didn't show. He could barely keep up with her. He focused directly on her clit, which had popped out from its hiding place like a personal invitation. Some small sane portion wondered if he could die from either drowning or too much pleasure. Claudia quaked for a moment, giving him warning. She sat up and was still, other than grinding her clit on his tongue. He was glad of her change in position. She could suck a golf ball through a garden hose while in orgasm. He wasn't far from a screaming orgasm himself. He felt his balls contract in preparation as Dante took over sucking him with expertise even Claudia couldn't match. Andre couldn't help himself. Blind to consequences as well as vision, he broke from Claudia's clit long enough to cry out, "Dante, whatever you're doing, don't stop!" Something animalistic took hold of him, and he dove back into Claudia's pussy with such force that she gave one massive shudder and screeched like a cat in heat. She came with such force Andre couldn't have kept up had he not been in that nearly mindless state.

Lena Austin

Room to Play

- 43 -

His own orgasm raged out of control, and instinct took over. He bucked and thrust into Dante's willing and busy mouth, crying out with a howl that blended with Claudia's cries. Dante didn't stop. He sucked Andre dry, slowly gentling the pressure to get every last drop. Claudia slid bonelessly off to the side, her only connection with Andre her small hand in his. He could hear her panting encouragements until Dante finally stopped. Andre forgave the gentle kiss on his inner thigh, as he felt Dante move away. Andre took off the blindfold, still breathing heavily. He couldn't have described his emotions at that point if they'd been lit with neon signs. Fortunately, Dante didn't seem to expect anything. He sat up, looking at Andre and Claudia with a self-satisfied expression, and licked his lips. "Thank you, Andre," he whispered softly. "Yes, thank you, darling," agreed Claudia, still breathing heavily. She gave his hand a squeeze. Andre cleared his throat. Some innate sense of fairness leapt up, and he looked at Dante's raging hard-on. "We're not done, Claudia. Dante hasn't come yet." He paused. "Only fair." Claudia caressed his cheek. "You're right of course. I'll handle this." She forced herself to her hands and knees, and at first Andre thought she'd now suck Dante off. Instead, and unsteadily, she turned around, presenting herself in the doggie position Andre remembered Dante had loved last night. "Come and get it, Dante," she said enticingly. Dante glanced at Andre, seeming to ask permission. Andre nodded. He had to admire Dante's principles. Andre wouldn't have thought twice about plowing Claudia at that moment. Maybe it would have been nice if Claudia had asked, or shown some small indication that he hadn't been replaced. But then he remembered the bargain. It didn't matter. He and Dante had made the deal to share, and banish jealousy. He ignored the whispers of the small green monster.

Lena Austin

Room to Play

- 44 -

Dante didn't hesitate a moment longer. Andre guessed he was aching with need. But with the same courtesy Andre remembered, Dante pressed slowly into Claudia, allowing her to adjust. Claudia moaned, and her eyes glazed over before half-closing. As Dante began to thrust in, faster with every upstroke, Andre watched her start to cum again. He'd recovered enough, he decided. Time to join the action. Rolling over and crawling those few feet took a lot of energy, but he squirmed into position beneath Claudia to suckle on a swinging breast. Claudia's cries redoubled, still encouraging words, but no coherent sentences. But the words were for both men equally. The green monster shut up. Something broke inside Andre. Maybe it was the chains of a long-forgotten spanking for playing with himself. He couldn't be sure. Whatever it was, he suddenly admitted, fully and completely, that he was having one of the best sexual experiences of his life. And it was payback time. Greatly daring, he reached up and timed his movements carefully to caress one of Dante's balls as it swung into view between Claudia's legs. "Oh, God!" groaned Dante, who did not stop, but began to thrust in tiny, quick movements. Andre grinned, and decided to give Dante a "praying orgasm". He switched to Claudia's other breast, and her shrieks joined Dante's groans in time with the CD still playing, appropriately, "The 1812 Overture". Andre stroked Dante's balls in time with the cannon booms, and Dante began to "pray" in French. "Mon Dieu!" And other words Andre did not understand. But the meaning was clear. Don't stop. He didn't. Not until Dante gave one massive shove that sent Claudia nearly sprawling on top of Andre. And Dante came, in shuddering thrusts. They all parted to lie in a panting heap on the rug. Claudia giggled into the silence. "We forgot the coffee part of the blowjob."

Lena Austin

Room to Play

- 45 -

Andre decided it was his duty to answer. "Next time," he promised. And there would be a next time. What was more, he was looking forward to it. Dante had the grace to do nothing more than chuckle. "Listen, I forgot to bring this up, but I was an idiot and forgot the latex last night. I just had a health check as part of my release from Mrs. Jackson's service. I'm clean." Andre nodded. "I'm clean. Part of my discharge medical." "So am I," Claudia added. "Um, coffee anyone?"

Andre and Claudia recovered first. Andre rolled to his feet, and grinned down. When his eyes met Dante's, there were no recriminations, only peace. Dante thought he'd burst with joy. Andre was a friend. And that smile held no anger or guilt. "I may never look at this rug the same way again," Andre laughed, pointing to the oriental rug beneath them. He thrust out his hands to his wife and Dante, offering to pull them up. Dante's heart thudded to his shoes and rolled to lie at both their feet. How could he love two people so quickly and so completely? Mercurial Claudia and quiet Andre didn't care about his shamed past. They cared about him and his skills. He felt needed again. Claudia sat down at the kitchen table, and Andre went for a mug and her usual creamer. She stirred in the creamer, and favored both the men with a bright smile. "And don't worry about pregnancy either. That's something that drunk took from me besides my career. They were forced to take out the baby factory, but they left me the playpen. I'll never forgive him that, but what is done is done." Dante saw an opportunity. "I've been thinking about your career, Claudia." He ignored the way her smile faded. "I don't know much about the hairdressing industry, but aren't there schools around here begging for teachers? I saw ads in the papers to that effect. What do you have to do to open a school or become a teacher?" Claudia paused, her mug halfway to her lips. Her eyes widened with shock, then narrowed in speculation. The mug slowly descended back to the table with a soft clink.

Lena Austin

Room to Play

- 46 -

After clearing her throat, she answered in a strangled voice. "I've already got the hours of experience. It would be a matter of proving to the State Board, and maybe taking a test." Dante contrived to look nonchalant. He'd put the seed out there, now to give it room to germinate. "Ah, I didn't realize it was that easy." He sipped his cold coffee and tried not to grimace. "I think I can safely assume any school would welcome the famous Claudia Peters passing on her wisdom." Andre chimed in, and he didn't bother to hide his hope. "Didn't you get a letter from your old school, asking if you'd consent to a guest appearance, just before your accident, Dee?" The mug made it to her mouth this time. Claudia swallowed, then said slowly and thoughtfully, "Yes. I called, hoping to squeeze them in. Mrs. Mac and I had a chat. She's the owner," she supplied for Dante's benefit. "Mrs. Mac told me honestly that she'd give anything, even a half-ownership, when I retired if I'd consider taking a teaching position. I told her I would probably do it." She licked her lips. "Guess I just retired a little early. I always did plan to teach." It was like watching the sun come out slowly from behind clouds. Her eyes lit, and her smile became dazzling. She shook her spoon at Dante. "Then you'd better get me in shape in a hurry! I've got phone calls to make after lunch!" Dante looked at Andre, who was grinning. "I'll need a lot of help. Can I set up my equipment in the other room of the basement?" Andre nodded and winked. "Looks like you are in it for the long haul, Blondie. Good thing there's room to play in this house." Dante nearly laughed aloud at the double entendre. "So, after I slug down a mug, I'm going to go swimming to work off this flab." Claudia suited words to action, and drained her mug. Dante laughed. "You're too skinny now." Andre lifted his tee shirt. "I need to work off this flab. I'll join you." He pointed to a non-existent spare tire.

Lena Austin

Room to Play

- 47 -

In Dante's opinion, there wasn't a spare inch on Andre's abdomen. He snorted, and lifted his shirt, pinching a bit of flesh on his side. "This is fat!" Andre chortled, but jabbed, "When are you due?" "Fuck you." "No." "Fuck me." "No." Claudia smirked. "Fuck me, then." "Yes, ma'am!" both men chorused.

Lena Austin Lena Austin is a "fallen" society wench with a checkered past. She has been a licensed minister, hairdresser, and realtor, radio DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman, BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order. She never finished that degree in archaeology, but did learn to scuba. After a life like that, gardening is pretty restful. Of herself, Lena writes, "I'm tall, presently red-haired, and I look like an unholy mating between an Amazon and a librarian." Visit Lena's website at http://www.geocities.com/voiceomt2002/Lena-Austin.htm