by JA Huss
But I played it off using the sex club thing as an excuse. A way to back out.
But was it? Just an excuse?
“Right?” Augustine says, pulling me back out of my thoughts.
“Admit it,” I say, repeating her question. “What did I admit? I didn’t admit to anything. That was Alexander’s overactive imagination.”
She lets out a huff of air, like I’m exasperating her. “Do you or don’t you have a fucking dark side?”
“Why are you getting pissy with me?”
“Just… do you?”
I shrug. “Maybe. I guess. I mean, fucking more than one person at a time isn’t really dark. But whatever. I like it.”
“You like it with strangers, Jordan.” This is Alexander. “That’s the key with you, ya know.”
I stare at him for a second. “I like it with you guys too.”
“Of course you do,” Augustine says. “Because we’re where it all began, right?”
I have to hold in a laugh. “No. I was always into it. It’s just… you guys… you two and Ixion were the first I did it with more than once.”
“So why is that?” she asks.
“Because I fell in love with you, Augustine. You know that.”
“But not me?” Alexander says.
“No. Not you. You were just there.”
“Like Ixion,” he adds.
“No, not like him, either. He was… he was always there.”
“Do you think he’d bring Evangeline here?” Alexander asks. “If you opened the place back up? I mean, is that what you’re after? Them, with you. So you could have him?”
“He’s not like that. At all,” I say, stressing the word. “We’re just not like that.”
“But you’d want it that way. So maybe deep down your new obsession with this building, with reopening the Club, it’s all related back to what he never offered up?”
I pause. Considering this.
Is it?
“The Club has been closed for over a year, yet you just started getting interested in it recently. Why is that, Jordan?”
I stare at Alexander. Wondering if that’s true. Was I over it? And then did I get drawn back in by the reappearance of Ix?
“I have no grand delusion that Ix, Evangeline, and I will become partners, you guys. None. That’s not what this is about.”
“Then what’s it about?” Alexander asks.
Augustine shoots him a look. Like she wants him to shut up but he won’t.
“I just want a place to go.” It’s lame. Even I know it’s lame. But it’s true. That’s really all I want. “A place that’s familiar. Where I know people. Where I’m not judged or made to feel… dark.” I shoot a look at Alexander. “Where I can be me and not feel weird, I guess.”
“Like… a home,” Augustine says.
“Sure. I guess.”
“Where you can have multiple partners and never commit,” Alexander offers.
“Goddammit, Alexander,” Augustine snaps.
“What?” he says. All exasperated with her annoyance. “I’m just following his fucking lead.”
“It’s not about multiple partners,” I say, thinking it through as I ignore their disagreement on how to ‘handle’ me. “It’s just… expectations are set from the beginning. There’s no room for mistakes. Everyone knows how to play the game. Everyone understands the rules.”
“So it’s safe,” Alexander says.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “So what?”
“Well, it’s funny.” He laughs. “That perfectly describes what you didn’t have with us in LA. There were no rules. There were no expectations.”
“But there were plenty of consequences,” I add.
“Not for you,” he quips back. “Ixion took your fall back there.”
“And I’m fucking sorry about that, OK? I told him that. I’ve apologized to you two. I’m fucking sorry. And if you’re still pissed off about it, then why are you here?”
“Just fucking tell him, August. For fuck’s sake. Can’t you see he’s never going to figure it out on his own?”
“Tell me what? Figure what out?”
Alexander opens his mouth to speak. And I swear to God, I have a moment of panic that he’s gonna say something… I dunno. Bad.
But then Augustine beats him to it and says, “That we love you. That we’re here because we love you, and care about you, and want you in our lives again. And… we’re worried about you.”
“OK.” I laugh. Because this is stupid. “That’s the third goddamned reason you’ve given me so far. First,” I say, holding up one finger, “you told me that you guys needed me to save your marriage. Because of Augustine. She missed me, and even though you don’t miss me”—I look at Alexander—“you love her and I was the only hope you had of keeping her. Then,” I say, ticking off another finger, “you tell me he’s dangerous or some bullshit like that. He can’t control himself. But oddly enough, none of that has come through in the sex we’ve had so far. And now,” I say, holding up a third finger. “Now you’re both in love with me. So which one is it?” I stare at them. First her, then him, then back to her. “Which of these is true and which are lies?”
Augustine opens her mouth to speak, but she stutters.”I… we… listen, you just…”
“We love you,” Alexander says. “I mean, for fuck’s sake, Wells. No one would put up with your bullshit if they didn’t love you.”
“I find your answer somewhat hard to believe.”
“Whatever,” he says. “I’m sick of explaining myself to you.”
“It’s just not… coming off as authentic,” I say. I look at Augustine and shrug. “Sorry. It’s just not.”
“Did we ever tell you why we split up?”
“Alexander,” Augustine interrupts. “No.”
“Shh,” he says. “Quiet. We did this your way and it’s not working. So it’s my turn now.” He directs his attention to me now. “Did we?”
“You know you didn’t,” I say. “Nothing beyond, ‘She was bored. I wasn’t enough for her.’ You know, your typical bullshit lies.”
He points his finger at me. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I’m gonna go ahead and ignore your standard sarcastic defense mechanism. It was about…” He looks at Augustine. “What? Four years ago?”
“Three and a half,” she says back.
“Fine. Three and a half years ago.”
I laugh. “That honeymoon didn’t last long.”
“We were in our old Westwood neighborhood for a theatre production at UCLA. And we were walking past the old apartment. I sold it shortly after you left. We moved into a house in Silver Lake. Anyway, I said…” And he stops to look at Augustine. “I said, ‘I miss those days.’ And she said, ‘You hated those days. You were never into sharing.’ And I said, ‘I don’t like sharing you, that’s true. It turned me into a jealous asshole. But I always knew he never wanted you. Not really, so I didn’t care. I always knew I could outlast him. I always knew he’d leave eventually. I always knew he’d get sick of you and move on.’”
“Ouch,” I say, looking over at August. She’s not looking at either of us.
“And she said—”
“And I said,” Augustine says, cutting him off. “I said, ‘Well, he was the only thing holding us together.’”
Alexander nods. “That’s what she said. It took me a few more months before I really thought about that. And another year to admit it was true. And another year after that to finally realize… I mean, I don’t know how I love you, Jordan. But this,” he says, waving his hand between himself and his wife. “This only works if we’re all here. Sometimes things come in threes. And… you know, I lied to her that day in Westwood. I lied. I liked it. I stayed because it felt good. I wasn’t jealous of you because… because I knew it wasn’t the attraction of a magnet. There was no push-pull of opposite poles. It wasn’t salt. That’s sodium chloride, right? Table salt. Those two things are held together by positive and negative charges
. But simply adding water can undo those bonds. We were never that fragile. Not while we were three. We were like… triple bonds. Those rare things in nature that require more than one or two but three to be stable. And that makes us stronger, I think. That makes us… unique. And no, it’s not common. And no, it’s not for everyone. But we can’t help who we are. We can’t change our inherent natural qualities. We can’t be two.” He pauses. Draws in a long breath. “We simply cannot be two. We either exist alone or all three of us together. That’s just the way it is.”
I glance over at Augustine. Who has gone absolutely still. Like this is the first time she’s hearing this little speech from her husband as well.
“So fuck it. We lied. OK? We lied. We’re here for you and we’re using this building to get what we want because…” He shrugs. “It just doesn’t work any other way. Do I wish I could have a wife to myself? I dunno. Maybe? I really don’t know. Because that’s never going to be an option if I stay with Augustine. It’s just not an option. And I love her. And you too, I guess. I don’t know. But I’m certainly willing to give it a try if you are.”
I’ve been holding my breath and it comes out in a soft, low exhale. “Well, I admit. I didn’t expect that.”
Augustine takes Alexander’s hand and places it on her cheek. She smiles up at him like he’s her God. And then she turns to me and says, “I’d like to try too.”
There’s two things running through my brain right now. One. They’re full of shit. Something else is going on and this was just… I dunno. His way of distracting me. And two…
God, that’s hard to admit.
Two.
They’re serious. We had something good, we lost it, and now we want it back. I mean… besides Ixion. Because what we had included him, regardless of what he thinks about it.
I don’t want to be cynical Jordan anymore. Life is short. That’s one thing I’ve learned since we fell apart. One thing that really hit home these past few months when the games took a dark turn.
I mean… I had a US Senator killed a few months ago.
He deserved it. He was a total piece of shit. And in my defense, I did wait for him to make his choice before I made the call.
But who do I think I am? Really. Who the fuck gave me the right to kill a man for another person’s vengeance?
Chella never asked me to do it. She didn’t complain after, but…
“Jordan,” Augustine says, pushing herself so close to me, I can practically hear her heart beating fast. “Just… give it a try. You have nothing to lose.”
Is that true?
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Alexander says, getting irritated with my indecision. “Forget it.”
He turns to walk away but I grab his arm and say, “Wait.”
“Why?” he growls.
“I’m just… I’ve got a lot on my mind. And you two, man. You came out of the fuckin’ blue and I don’t know what to think about that.”
“So stop thinking,” he says, shrugging me off.
Which might be good advice. Maybe the best advice.
So I reach for him again. I pull him towards me with a hard jerk. And when he takes those two steps forward and comes into our space, I lean in and kiss him.
For a moment he hesitates. And a jolt of realization courses through me. A sick feeling in my gut that this was all a lie. All a plot to… to… something.
But then his mouth softens and his lips react, and we’re kissing.
And relief floods through me so thoroughly. My muscles respond with some kind of endorphin or adrenaline rush. Filling me with heat, and a weird feeling that defies description.
Augustine’s hand is at my cock. My eyes are closed, my mouth still kissing Alexander. But I know she reaches for him too because he groans.
“Wait, wait,” I mumble. Not wanting to stop but…
“What now?” Alexander asks.
“Be right back.”
I don’t wait for them to answer. I know I’m on Alexander’s last nerve tonight. But I don’t care. I kinda like pissing him off. Besides, he doesn’t have to wait for me. She’s his wife.
I turn the corner in the hallway and find the control room door. This is where—predictably—all the controls are for the basement. Lights, music, sound effects. Yeah, I didn’t realize that last part was a thing. But when I broke in here a couple months ago I went snooping around and that’s when I found the control room. And the moaning soundtrack.
It’s actually more than moaning. There’s whispers too. Male voices mostly, but some female. His voice is demanding. Hers, accommodating.
And I don’t recall this being a thing, since it was probably played under the thumping music and there were plenty of real-life men whispering commands and plenty of real-life women giving in to them as they moaned, but it’s fucking hot.
And I want them to hear it. If they can’t experience the real Club, then I can give them a little sample at least.
I flip the switch on the master control panel and choose the last track combination I played for music.
I might not care if Alexander starts without me, but I don’t want to miss anything either.
Then I find the small jar of white paint, grab two paintbrushes, and flip the main lights out and the black lights on as I exit.
It’s… porny as fuck.
And just admitting that to myself makes me smile. Because whatever.
When I make my way back to the hallway where I left them, Alexander has Augustine pushed up against the wall. His hand has lifted up the hem of her dress and he’s caressing her thigh as he kisses her neck.
Her eyes are closed. Her mouth is open. Her sweet, plump lips are moving just a little. Like they need a job to do. Like she wants to put them on his cock and suck.
That’s the real magic of plural sex. The woman can’t help it. She’s being stimulated in so many ways and in so many places she just… wants things. Wants to fill herself up in every way possible.
I set the paint and brushes down on a small table and slip in next to them. One hand on Alexander’s waist, the other reaching for Augustine’s breast. My mouth finds hers and I fulfill the need she didn’t even realize she had. Her tongue sweeps across my lips. Probing and twisting. Alexander has one palm flat against the wall, boxing Augustine in on one side. The other… it reaches behind me and grips the back of my neck.
He pushes us closer. Asking us to do more.
I’m in a giving mood, so…
I rip her dress down the front.
She gasps. He laughs.
I just grin and keep going. Shredding it down the middle, ripping it free, pulling her strapless bra down as I whisper in her ear, “I’ll take you shopping for a new one tomorrow.”
Alexander helps me get her naked. Off comes the bra and panties—we leave the stockings and garters on.
And then I back away, admiring her body in the black light. Getting hard just listening to the whispers and moans filtering through under the thumping music.
And I get the paint.
Alexander’s grin is worth all the fighting and effort we’ve put into this new adventure. Totally worth it.
He takes a brush when I offer it, winks at his wife, dips the end in the white paint, and draws a circle around her nipple.
She glows in the dark now.
Yeah, this… this is what I’ve missed.
I dip my brush in the paint too and draw a line starting between her breasts, right down to her shaved pussy. She closes her eyes when I tickle her clit. Moaning. Real moaning.
And Alexander, right on cue, begins to whisper in her ear. “You like that? You want more? You like us both, don’t you. You want us both inside you.”
And she responds with hums, and groans, and “Yeses.”
I hand the paint to Alexander, then reach for him. Grabbing his cock through his pants. He looks at me, startled, but then he just grins lazily and resumes his painting.
I unzip his pants. My hand pushing its way inside the o
pening, grabbing at his hard cock. He’s not wearing any underwear and that makes me want to kiss him. Because he’s kinda perfect. For me.
No. For us.
I pull him out. That’s how the men stay in the Club. Fully dressed in black tie, zippers open with protruding hard cocks sticking out.
“Fuck,” he says, my hand already pumping him.
Augustine is paying attention because she reaches for my zipper. Her hand pushing its way inside my pants and then a smile as she realizes I am also bare.
Perfect for her. For us.
Her fingertips fold over my shaft as she pulls me out and begins to stroke me. Gently at first, but when I reach up and twist her nipple, she grips me hard. And I, in turn, squeeze Alexander.
We are a chain reaction.
We are a chain reaction of lust, and longing, and labored breathing. We unfold, then fold again, reshaping what we thought we were, who we thought we were, into what we will become.
We are a chain reaction of past into present into future. A single bond becoming double, becoming triple, becoming…
Complete.
We are sweaty skin under our starched shirts, and white, wet paint marring and scarring the blackness of our tuxedo lapels as Augustine writhes against our collective touch and I think…
I think…
There is no mask on this woman when there should be a mask. And there’s no other bodies pressing against us when there should be other bodies. And there’s no scene being played out in the rooms nearby or at the end of the hallway or… anywhere.
It’s just us.
In this forgotten playground of carnal desire and delight.
It’s just us.
In this old building basement that, when devoid of the magic of lights, and music, and sound effects, is just that.
An old building basement.
I say, “Let’s go.”
And there’s confusion. A little bit. And questions painted on their dark faces like the white stripe I painted down Augustine’s torso.
She is naked, save for her stockings and garters. But I take off my coat, then my shirt—as Alexander watches me with curiosity and fascination. His eyes on the muscles of my stomach. His hands automatically reaching out to touch.
