Chasing The O

by LaBelle, Lorelai

  “Then we should talk about it so I get used to the idea, and we should talk about what we both want out of it,” I suggested. We entered a long conversation revolving around the proposed threesome. The more we talked about it, the more comfortable I became with the idea of Vince with another woman—in my presence only—and the idea of being with another woman grew more exciting.

  The next day, I set out to find the third for our threesome.

  A WHOLE WEEK WENT by and I had come up with bupkis. Everyone was either too close or too much of a stranger. I asked myself how attractive I was willing to go as I passed people on the street, scrutinizing physical appearance even more than usual—and I had been trained since middle school to compare other girls. Now I had to consider if I wanted to kiss this woman, or touch that woman, and it was a lot to handle for someone who hadn’t given it much thought in the past.

  The pursuit seemed pointless until a visit to the gym that Tuesday afternoon. The June sun climbed high, filling the sky with so much sunshine, I was thankful to be indoors, under the gym’s air-conditioning.

  And that’s when I spotted Emma on the elliptical.

  It hit me that she made the perfect candidate. I knew her well enough through our workout sessions, but I had never seen her out of the gym, and had no other connections to her. Plus she was gorgeous, supporting a fit body, long blond hair, full lips, and perfect skin. I found myself staring after a while, picturing her and me with Vince, our bodies grazing, sensual, electric. I could almost feel the current from across the room.

  On the downside, she might have been too attractive for such an experiment. I quickly banished that thought from my mind. If jealousy flowered in my mind, the threesome would never work. I knew I had to let go of my insecurities; the trouble was, I didn’t know if I could.

  I approached Emma like it was any other day at the gym. She wore a huge smile as she worked out. When I set my stuff between our machines, she took out her earbuds, her smile growing. “Haven’t seen you for a few weeks,” she said, as I climbed onto the footpads.

  I swallowed hard, from nerves and stress, both tearing at me for different reasons. “Been having a rough patch.”

  “With Vince?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “He’s the only thing that’s been stable. My car died, and my bakery burned down.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry. I saw that on the news . . . what happened?” she asked. I began to detail the horrific event, and the entire time I was wondering how I would bring up the proposition. How would she react? Would she be into it? Would I have to find a new gym if she was appalled by the idea? I guess Vince could just strip her membership away. A million thoughts zipped through my head.

  At the end of her workout, I snapped a few photos of her and the equipment with my phone. “It’s for a friend,” I said when she asked what I was doing. “She’s thinking about joining and wanted to see the inside.”

  Emma didn’t question my answer.

  LATER THAT NIGHT, I showed Vince. “I think I found the one,” I said, practically running out of the elevator, shoving my phone in his face.

  “I’ve seen you working out with her. What’s her name again?”

  “Emma Barker,” I answered, while he scrolled through the dozen pictures I had taken.

  “She’s very pretty.” He handed the phone back. “Did you already ask her?”

  “That’s the thing—I have no idea how to bring it up.”

  He pulled out a baking sheet, displaying two bubbly calzones dripping with cheese. It was another recipe I had taught him. “Well, how did Nikki get you into the idea?”

  I reflected on the early parts of the night that I could recall. A hazy mess, I couldn’t tell what was true and what I might have been imagining. “She kept pointing out attractive women and remarking on their bodies.”

  “Then try that,” he suggested. “If it worked to get you in the mood, it might work on her too.”

  “Yeah, except women do that all the time. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary until she started saying stuff like, ‘I bet she has perfect tits’ and other more explicit comments. I’m not sure I could do that at the gym—or anywhere really.”

  “You could tell her about the bachelorette party, and how Nikki kissed you. Then you could ask her if she’s ever had an encounter with a woman or if she’s ever thought about it. I think it would be a good way to feel her out.”

  “That’s actually not a bad idea,” I said. “I bet she’d love it if you came over and asked her to have dinner with us.”

  “Tomorrow?” He dumped a calzone on a plate for me at the table. “I’m interviewing for another bodyguard in the afternoon, but I can stop by around four?”

  “That’s about when we get done, so I’ll try and stall her if you’re late.” We worked out our strategy to seduce her over dinner, though I didn’t think she would require that much convincing with how she’d talked about Vince in the past. Time would tell all.

  “LOOKS LIKE YOU’VE BEEN here a while,” Emma said, hopping onto the stair stepper next to me. Nerves actually caused the sweat dribbling down my forehead, not training. My throat tightened at the sight of her. I let out a nervous laugh. “Did you want to hit the weight machines?”

  “Yeah, let’s go another fifteen first.” I had only been there five minutes and was still warming up. A fit, attractive girl was running on the treadmill in front of us. She was the whole reason I had chosen to start on the stair stepper, hoping to use her as a segue into the bachelorette story.

  Emma nodded. “Sure.” After a few minutes, she surprised me by saying, “God, look at that ass.” She nodded at the girl in front of us. “She must work out, like, three hours a day to maintain that figure.”

  I didn’t know if she could sense my anxiety, or if she was just talking normally, but her words put me at ease. “I’d say your ass is just as toned,” I said, taking her lead.

  “I don’t know about that, but thanks,” she laughed. “I’ve been trying to get more time in on the stair steppers.”

  “It’s definitely working.” I figured the more compliments thrown her way, the better. We continued the conversation on techniques to firm up our lower bodies until the timer rang. “I had a lesbian make a pass at me two weeks ago,” I said, as we headed downstairs for the weight machines.

  “Really? Where?”

  “At Dirty Nightlife, a club downtown. And I guess she was bi, not a lesbian.”

  “Still,” Emma said. “That’s always exciting. Was she ugly?”

  “No,” I answered. “She was very pretty. She looked a lot like you, except she had to use more makeup.” My heart pounded in my chest. The time had come to divulge the secret and gauge her reaction. “She actually kissed me.” My heart was pumping so wildly, I was afraid I might faint.

  Emma stopped me, grabbing my wrist. “What? No way!”

  “Yeah, and I was so drunk, I kissed her back.”

  “You’re kidding. Really?” The excitement in her voice pushed me on with confidence.

  “No, it’s true. My friend had to break us apart before it went any further.”

  “Wow,” she said, stunned. I guess she considered me the type of girl who’d never do such a thing. Her assumption had been correct up until the point it happened. “Well, how was it?” she asked in the same eager tone that Vince had used when he found out.

  “It was exciting, and different,” I said with frankness that couldn’t be misjudged.

  “So you liked it?” Emma didn’t possess the personality that held back, and she showed her interest plainly.

  I nodded, and the heat on my cheeks intensified by ten, my sexual shyness on display. “I did,” I rasped, taking a drink of water afterward. With the adduction/abduction machines open, we started on them, sitting side by side.

  “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to kiss a woman,” she said, staring ahead at the pulleys. “I’ve never had the courage or the opportunity, though.”

  Baite
d.

  But kissing was different from sex. I had to know how deep her curiosity went. “Have you ever wondered what it tastes like, you know, down there?” I asked. If her curiosity only went as far as some necking, then she probably wasn’t the candidate I thought she was.

  Emma paused and looked over at me. She regarded my expression for a second before answering. “Hasn’t every woman? Just like I bet every man wonders what it’s like to suck on a cock once in his life . . . but, I’ll admit, I’ve thought about it more than once . . .”

  The thought of tasting her set a dark, hidden lust on fire in my veins. I bet she tasted sweet like how Vince said I tasted. Before I could respond, Vince walked into the gym from the parking lot, earlier than expected. He immediately jogged over to us, and he had a certain bounce to his step, the same thoughts probably running through his head that were consuming mine.

  He leaned in for a kiss. “Hey, this is Emma,” I introduced her. “Emma, this is my boyfriend, Vince Forte.”

  She practically jumped up to meet him, shaking his hand for a prolonged minute, but I didn’t mind the contact. I tried to picture the three of us naked on Vince’s bed, his hard cock waiting for us as we pleased each other.

  “Everything go well with the interview?” I asked.

  “Very smooth,” he said. “I actually hired him. His name is Avery Havill. I’ll be giving him a tour, and showing him the ins and outs the rest of the day, so you can meet him tonight.”

  I nodded, and then gave him two quick winks, the signal that Emma was interested. “If you don’t have plans, Emma, would you like to join us for dinner?”

  Her mouth exploded open in surprise. “Uh—tonight? No—no, I don’t have plans. Uh—”

  “Perfect,” Vince said, taking that as a yes. “I’ll see you tonight. Maci will give you the details.” He seemed just as nervous as I had been before our conversation started flowing. Quickly, he leaned over and kissed me goodbye before hurrying up to the second floor.

  “You two really want me over for dinner?”

  “We do,” I replied, a bit hoarse from the sinful images playing in my mind. “It will give us a chance to get to know each other in a more intimate atmosphere.” Terrible at innuendo, I tried making it as clear as possible without blurting “threesome.” I was sure she got the hints. After we did a few more weight machines, she left, with Vince’s address saved in her phone.

  Sitting on the row machine, I glanced around, checking for peepers. No eyes were looking my way. I reached between my legs and felt the thrilling wetness, biting my lip as I watched her walk away. Letting out a long exhale, I wiped my hands on my towel.

  The anticipation for the deviant, naughty, and solely delicious thought aroused me in a completely different way, and I found it hard to believe the intensity of it, so new, so conflicting with all my previous feelings toward women. With all the questions about what would happen next, one thing was certain—I couldn’t wait for dinner.

  “OH YEAH, SHE’S DEFINITELY into it,” I answered, taking out the lasagna I had prepared for tonight. Emma was due any minute, and we both had butterflies, asking the same questions, repeating the same conversations about how we’d approach the subject of her inclusion in our bedroom activities.

  “Everything is running smoothly, Mr. Forte,” Avery Havill reported, strolling into the kitchen. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Havill,” Vince said. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, sir.” The big burly black man headed for the elevator. Vince’s new bodyguard stood worlds apart from Terrance, his disposition and humor as antithetical to his predecessor as possible. Soft-spoken, with a kind, approachable look, Avery even had the reverse hairstyle, with five o’clock stubble and short tight curls on his head. So far, in the twenty minutes that I had known him, he had shown me more civility and warmth than Terrance ever had.

  “Mr. Havill?” I said after the bodyguard had departed. “Why the cold formality? That’s not like you.”

  “I thought it would be better to keep some distance between us. I let Terrance become my friend. I can’t do that again.”

  “Hello?” I heard a voice shout around the corner before I could reply. We had left the door propped open to the elevator so she could enter without knocking. Cameras had been installed, and security monitored who pressed the penthouse button, keeping an eye out for the elusive Luke.

  I poked my head around the corner. “In here, Emma.”

  She hurried into the kitchen. A deep V-neck dress clung to her body, the sheath ruched bodice twisting in the front and open in the back, ending in a short, fitted miniskirt. The red of the fabric made her blond hair and fair skin pop. “This place is amazing,” she gasped.

  Next to her in my light sundress, I felt a little less sexy, as I half-expected her to show up in running gear. Boy, was I wrong. “It takes a while to get used to,” I admitted, pulling her in for a hug. Vince took his turn, his embrace quick and uncomfortable. “The view, the luxury, the space—it’s all a lot to take in.”

  “I love it,” she said, setting her purse down on the island. “Thank you so much for having me over . . . and you made lasagna!” Her eyes lit up. “I love lasagna.”

  “It’s a secret chef recipe that I learned from a cook while in school,” I said. “I’ve never had one better.”

  “Sounds delectable.”

  “It tastes even better than it sounds,” Vince added. “How about a tour?”

  She couldn’t pass on the opportunity. Back in the kitchen after the tour, with the lasagna now cool, Vince waved toward the table. He took the head of the table while Emma and I sat across from each other. “Wine, beer, champagne? Or perhaps something a little harder?”

  “Any red wine will be fine,” she answered. I had already poured a glass of smoky Scottish-style ale. Tipsy, my tongue prepared to loosen, gearing up for the big question later on. Vince poured her a glass of red wine from his selection stored in the utility room. “I know nothing about wine, so sorry if it’s poor.” He had a glass of exorbitant whiskey, neat, which he only drank when battling severe nerves.

  Emma took a sip and smiled. “It’s good. Most red wine tastes the same to me, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “So tell me about yourself, Emma?” Vince asked. “I only know that you like to work out as much as Maci, if not more.” That began a series of get-to-know-you questions, which lasted through the meal, as we shared little things about us with her. By the end of the meal, knots had formed in my stomach—twisting and twisting—yet curiosity motivated me more, mixed with the temptation of something foreign and forbidden.

  We moved to the library, off from the dining area. Emma sat next to me on a loveseat, with Vince across from us in an armchair. “So we had an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight,” I said, glancing at Vince for his encouragement. He gave it with a slight nod. “We wanted—”

  “To ask if I’d sleep with you,” she cut in, grinning.

  “Uh—was it that obvious?”

  “Yes and no,” she answered. “This isn’t the first time a couple has propositioned me for a threesome.”

  “It isn’t?”

  She ignored the evident surprise in my voice. “No . . . But this is the first time I’m saying yes.” Her eyes flicked at Vince, her grin growing seductive with those full lips. “Tonight?”

  My heart leapt at her acceptance.

  “Um,” Vince nearly choked. “We were thinking Friday, to give you some time to think about it.”

  “I’m already feeling it,” she said in a heady voice that flared the fire in my blood. “We don’t have to wait.” She slid her hand from the couch to my thigh. Her touch surprised and exhilarated me: a strange, warm tingle crawled up my spine. “We can do it tonight, if you want.”

  I stared at her, frozen. This was the moment to let go of inhibition, to fall into the sexual act and explore a new realm, but my heart grew aware of the reality—what it meant to go through w
ith the act. I’d be sharing the man I loved with another woman. But the question that tortured me still burned inside: was his heart only for me?

  I had to trust that it was.

  If I didn’t trust that it was, then our relationship stood on the weakest pillar—one that could crumble at any time, tonight or years from now. If I didn’t trust that it was, then one night of carnal satisfaction meant nothing, and our relationship was doomed regardless of any fantasy indulgence. Without trust, we had nothing.

  My heart was only for him, and I decided right then that his was only for me. This was about sex and trying something outside our normal comfort zone. Leaning into Emma as her lips parted, wet and luscious, I kissed her receptive mouth. The first kiss was light, barely a peck. I opened my mouth more for the second.

  My lust bloomed into a wild passion, and we pulled each other closer, our hands roaming. I felt her soft breasts, cupping each, exploring their perkiness. My fingers dove into her cleavage, her skin electrifying my senses. My dress covered more, so her hand only grazed the top of my breasts. Still the idea of her—a woman—touching the skin reserved only for men, sent a jolt of pure arousal to my pussy. I pulled back, opening my eyes, inhaling deeply, my heart running hard with desire.

  Vince was staring at us with rapt attention. His cock bulged in his pants. I waved him over. “Your turn,” I said. Emma moved the pillows on the other side of her to make room for him. He sat down and it seemed that the alcohol had consumed all of his nervousness.

  Emma turned her attention to him, making the first move, rubbing his hard-on. “That’s more than I’ve ever had,” she purred.

  Vince returned her gesture by fondling her breasts, sliding under her braless cup, rubbing her nipple between his fingers like he did mine. The sight turned me on, and I crossed over his arm, slipping under her other cup. Her nipple hardened between my fingers. She gasped from the delicate assault.