by Lainey Fox
She laughed too, high and tinkly. “Funny,” she said. “Neither do I.”
They took her car, a little electric model. She lived so close to the urgent care center that she could. The night was full of a hot breathy wind and stars peeking out from the city lights. They kissed then. She wasn’t tentative. She consumed him. She had him pushed up against the car. They made it to the elevator before he found her fingers pulling at his belt.
“Omigod,” she said. “I don’t know if…”
“Shh,” he said, as she reached up and unbuttoned his shirt. He caressed her neck, kissed her deeper.
The door dinged and he heard a strange coughing coming from inside the apartment.
“Paws,” she informed. “She’s had no-bark surgery.”
She put in a code, and they were inside.
“Friend,” she said to Paws, a long-necked brown-and-black brindle, slim mutt. “This is Paws, and Midnight and Lightning are in the other room.”
The house was cool but, blessedly, not frigid. He managed to get the door shut as he pulled her scrub shirt off. She was wearing some sort of camisole bra.
“I like it,” he said, into her mouth, pulling the camisole top off over her head. “Easy.”
He unbuckled his belt and put it on a low table before kicking off his shoes. She got hers off, and continued unbuttoning his shirt. He got his own pants off as she got hers off. The couch had an ottoman. He took off the rest of her clothes. She sat on the ottoman as he removed her socks last. Mike moved the cat off the couch, a black one with huge eyes, and it squawked and stalked off. A sleek grey greayhound took a sniff at this hand, and went back to sleep on the huge dog bed in the corner.
He took off his briefs and she gasped at how huge he was. Danielle cupped his balls in her hand, and it was his turn to gasp. He pulled back her hair, kissed her. She ran her tongue down his neck, biting his ear. He ran his fingers down her spine, making her shiver. He knelt, kissed her, and kissed her neck. He parted her legs, and kissed his way to her thighs, then stuck his tongue inside, flicking it in and out. She cried out, grabbing his shoulders. She arched her back, screaming, as he used a finger and his tongue to make her crazy.
He put his fingers inside her and found her other sweet spot, going between his fingers deep inside her and flicking on the outside spot with his tongue. Danielle came again, twice, in quick succession.
The old cop stepped back, watching her gasp. As she recovered, Danielle he pulled cushions off the couch, throwing them into another corner. A garnet chenille throw covered the seat, and a pale blue one covered the back. She drew him to her. It took two tries, gentle nudges, using his fingers, to get the head in. He took himself back out, and made her come again with his fingers.
Dr. Yun reached up and guided him in. He took it shallow, holding himself up and back, one hand on the cushion next to her head, the other guiding himself in a little more. She gasped, and opened wide. He contented himself with halfway, rubbing up against the spot inside she liked. Danielle screamed in his ear, clawed his back. He was able to get in a little more, and put her in control of the rhythm. She moved under him, bringing himself in a little more. She cried out at his last thrust. He withdrew quickly, hoping he hadn’t hurt her.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “Did I hurt you?” You asked with a wry smile.
He checked the scratches. “Didn’t penetrate the skin.”
She laughed, laid back. “You certainly penetrated me,” she said.
They lay, gasping, for a while, she on the couch, he on the floor. Danielle finally got up, and put her clothes back on.
“What are you doing?” Mike said, muzzily.
Both dogs hopped up.
“Oh,” he said, as the greyhound gracefully leapt over him.
“I pay a dogwalker to do it during the day,” she said, still gasping for air. “But I’m the night shift.”
He sat up, ready to find his pants.
“Stay,” Danielle said, and both dogs sat instantly. She laughed. “Not you, my sweetlings. Mike, I’ll be back in a bit. Mi casa es su casa.”
He took her literally, taking a shower, washing the long, ugly day off of his body. He was, oddly, on a slow time. He was working cold cases whenever he didn’t have an active one, and he and Molina had found two people in the last ten days--one of them, sadly, a body in the desert. It was Homicide’s case now.
As he was toweling dry, he heard nails on the floor, and the door creakily swing open. He walked out of the bathroom in a towel, and watched her hang up the dog harnesses. She put kibble in their bowls, and she changed their water.
She stripped as she walked, even taking off her hair thingy that clipped around her hair and twisted. She had it out and on the bathroom sink before he’d realized she’d passed him. She reached behind her and grabbed the towel. Danielle turned on the water and, without saying a word, drew him in with her.
Mike washed her hair, using the bottle of expensive shampoo that smelled of jasmine. He washed it twice, giving her a scalp massage each time, as the dainty doctor washed herself with a scrubber, starting with each hand and working her way up her arms. He put in the conditioner, and put another scrubber on his hand like a mitt and washing her back. She groaned. He reached forward, gently scrubbing her neck, first one side, than the other.
He scrubbed her belly, and then gently washed her between her legs by hand without the scrubber. She moaned and arched her back, stopping her finger-scrub of her face. He scrubbed each leg, then each foot. He rinsed her hair, then her body. She turned off the water, and leaned forward.
Mike took his new lover from behind, slow, sweet, using light strokes. He stroked her back, whispered in her ear. She moaned, gasped, moaned again, her hand on the bar on the side, her other on the hand he kept on her hip. He went deeper, and she made a sound he had literally never heard a woman make before, a low squeak of pleasure. He kept it slow, and was rewarded with explosions on both sides, at nearly the same moment.
She stepped forward, and laughed. “Now we have to wash again.”
He laughed too. “At least we have clean sex.”
She threw a scrubbie at him and they cleaned up. Once out of the shower Mike put on his briefs. She turned to see what he was doing.
“True blue,” Danielle laughed at his brief color.
“It’s my job, ma’am,” he said in his best cop voice.
Dr. Kun laughed, taking him down the hallway past three closed doors to the back bedroom. It had a platform bed, black.
“You like it low to the ground?” he asked.
He pulled aside the crimson-red satin comforter to find high-thread-count dark blue sheets. She laughed.
“Los Angeles refugee. My first earthquake threw me out of my bed at 5:48 AM. I thought my alarm clock was getting violent.” She took a matching purple panty and sleeveless T-shirt set out of a drawer and put them on.
He laughed. “UCLA?”
She nodded. “Damn near killed me. Family medicine seemed like heaven after the emergency room.”
“Not many GPs left,” said Mike, climbing into the bed.
“No. It’s why my college loan debt is getting smaller by the day.” She smiled, climbed into bed, and put her head on his shoulder. They slipped into sleep.
3
Dr. Danielle Kun woke up first, as always turning off the phone vibrating under her head. She slipped out of bed as Mike slept, the dogs staring holes in her. She fed both, crushing Lightning’s glucosamine and arthritis medication into his food, separating Paws so she didn’t eat Lightning’s food. She stumbled through walking the dogs, and came back. The sun was barely in the sky, and already the temperature was climbing.
She padded into the living room, and put a YouTube Pilates video on the monitor. After half an hour, she figured she could never move her legs again. She put away the mat, and went back to the bedroom. Mike stared at her, and wordlessly pulled back the cover. She slid in, foregoing her re
ading and meditation for now, and reached forward; grabbing the cock tenting up the sheet. Mike groaned. She doubted she could put the whole thing in her very small mouth, so she settled for licking it like a lollipop. He twisted the sheets around his feet and crumpled the pillow under his head in his hand.
Mike reached for her, and his tongue slid into her mouth. She bent, broke, and slid over, as he traced her body with his fingers. She found herself crying out, again and again, as he found just the right button to push with his fingers. She pushed him away and straddled him, going down very slowly, carefully. She only went down halfway. She wriggled, making him gasp and moan, forward until she was able to get him in a little more, then she went slow and easy, up and down, circling, until he gasped and arched his back, and came in a violent rush. She rolled off of him, and smiled.
“One way to wake up in the morning,” he said.
Danielle laughed and went to the bathroom to freshen up. Mike followed.
“Good thing I keep an extra change of clothes in my locker,” he said, and went to get dressed.
She left him, and went to the kitchen. She poured orange juice, and zapped the bacon. He came in, buttoning his shirt.
“Do I smell Bacon?”
“Want a breakfast sandwich?” she asked. “And orange juice?”
“Duh,” he said, and she laughed.
She popped the wheat English muffins into the toaster, and cracked eggs in two different mugs, after spraying their insides with cooking spray. She added shredded Cheddar cheese from a bag and some spices, and ground some black pepper over them.
“Fancy,” he commented.
She laughed, as the microwave beeped. She put the mugs of eggs in the microwave. She took out the muffins, plated them, tore up bacon, added that, then took out the eggs and expertly slid them out onto the muffin bottoms. Then, she put the tops on each sandwich, and presented him with a plate.
“Breakfast is served,” Danielle said, with a smile and fake English accent.
Mike nodded his head and laughed again. She poured him some orange juice, and they ate. They lingered over the meal, chatting and delaying the inevitable departure that was to come. Once they were down to crumbs, Danielle knew they could delay no more. She rinsed the glasses and plates and put them in the dishwasher. She went to brush her teeth, and reappeared in dark blue scrubs, a small black backpack slung over her shoulder.
“Ready?” She asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” he said.
***
Mike worked out every day, lifting more and more. His tae kwon do classes were hard, as he was working towards trading in his red belt for a red belt with a black stripe. He pushed himself, just under the point of injury, as Danielle took up more and more of his thoughts. He was trying to study himself into fraud detail, in financial crime, by taking online accounting and computer hacking courses. He had started out with patrol, then missing persons, and now he wanted something more.
Danielle interviewed and added Rae Tonoko to the practice, a newly-married woman looking to get out of hospital pediatrics, the cancer patients and car accidents and resulting long hours having drained her dry. Danielle was able to have the new doctor handle so many patients that she split the receptionists into Jim Hornbee, the original practicing physician, and herself, and one for just Rae. Most of the walk-ins were families with sick children, or the victims of skateboarding mishaps.
They soon had the waiting rooms actually emptied several times a day, as Danielle didn’t have to do most of it herself. Jim only handled evenings and weekends. She also increased the workload on her transcriptionist, who was grateful for the work. At this rate, they would have to hire another medical file clerk and maybe another billing clerk. The second office seemed like a go for next year.
Her days off were Sunday and Monday, and his Monday and Tuesday. They settled into dinner on Thursday nights, sushi one week, takeout Chinese the next, whatever was. Sundays, he went to church with his mother, Gracie, his aunt Evelyn and Tessa, his sister. He told them nothing about Danielle; it felt too new. Some Sunday nights they went out for Thai, or barbecue, something leisurely. He learned to walk a Greyhound; which consisted of getting to the dog park as quickly as possible, then let the dog run off the leash.
The new lovers went to his tiny studio exactly once, and then never again. His Murphy bed couldn’t handle the abuse. They would go back to her place and put her black platform bed through it’s paces. No woman had ever exhausted him before.
One night, after rolling off of Mike, and wondering if she should invest in several new sheet sets, she lay back, gasping.
“Mike,” she said, after she was able to control her breath.
“Yes,” he replied, when he was able to speak.
He wondered if she was going to broach the subject of his moving in. He already knew the door code and had started arriving some nights before she did, taking the dogs to the park while she picked up something to eat. Both were too exhausted to cook.
“There’s something you should know about me,” she said.
“Okay,” he said, slowly.
“I need more,” she said.
“Ruh ro,” he said.
“You know I’m bisexual,” she said.
“Yes,” he said, slowly.
“I think I’m poly, too.”
“Polyamorous? You want a girlfriend?”
“Or boyfriend. Or both.”
He thought about it for a long time. His sister was a lesbian. His mother never married after his father died, preferring a succession of men to enjoy, as she put it.
Finally, he said, “I think...I think we can do that.” He smiled.
She touched his face. “Why are you smiling?”
He looked at her. “Do you want to get married?”
“Sure,” she said, snuggling into him. “But not tonight.” He laughed, held her close.
“Not until my last loan is paid off. I did the California State Loan Repayment Program, SLRP, for two years.” She giggled. “We called it Slurp. I worked in AltaMed in Hollywood. Saw what people do to other people. Couldn’t get into private practice fast enough. Jim works my days off, and closes the shop up at night. Hiring Rae was smart. She’s a firecracker.”
“Do you want her to be your new girlfriend?”
Danielle laughed. “No dating in the office. Bad idea.”
“How do you find poly people to date? A dating service for poly?”
“Why the hell not?” she asked.
Ménage a Moi – Polyamory 2
Book 2 of Ménage a Moi – Polyamory
By Lainey Fox
Published by Scarlet Lantern Publishing
1
Mike gave up his apartment a few months later. Moving in was physically painful, as the cats would chase each other over their bodies in bed, sweaty from exertion. They got separate litter boxes for the cats, and shut the door when sex was on the menu.
They married with a justice of the peace, with Mike’s sister Linda and mother Molly there. Danielle had fit into his family well; they had both hugged him the night before at dinner when he told them that Danielle was bisexual and considering poly. Danielle wore a pale blue dress and Mike his dress blues. Mike’s coworkers Lia Molina and Daniel Yu attended as well.
They rented a convertible, paid a neighborhood teen an enormous amount of money for pet sitting, and took off for the coast. They went up the Pacific Coast Highway until they found a restaurant they liked, and ate seafood in the sun. They drove a little farther on to a seaside bed-and-breakfast. Dinner was crab cakes and salad and an amazing chocolate silk pie, and dessert was making love on a screened balcony, the sea breeze on their skin.
Mike was barely able to get himself out of bed to answer the knock on the door. He had the presence of mind to put on the provided enormous white fluffy robe, and opened the door to a young blonde with a tray. He closed the door with his foot and made it to the bed without stumbling. He put down the tray.
�
��What do we have here?” Danielle asked, sitting up, the sheet over her torso, her breasts peeking out.
“Breakfast,” Mike said.
They fell on the bacon, eggs, and toast like wolves.
“What’s this?” asked Danielle, opening a pot in the middle of a plate of strawberries. “Chocolate!” she said, delightedly.
She dipped a finger in it, and stroked it along his palm. She then put the palm up to her lips, and licked off the chocolate in long, deep strokes. He painted the chocolate on her palm, and licked it off. Then, she stroked it on his thigh, and licked and sucked. He groaned. He turned her on her back, and stroked her stomach with a chocolate-laden strawberry. He popped the strawberry in her mouth, and licked the chocolate off her stomach. He moved up to her breasts, strawberry by strawberry, licking chocolate off each one. He made his way back down and, abandoning the chocolate and strawberries, plunged his tongue into her.
