Overwhelmed

by Marita A. Hansen

  We crossed the grass and walked up the steps to the veranda. Tom knocked on the glass door. A few seconds later, it slid open. Tom’s best friend appeared in the doorway, a Kurt Cobain wannabe. Dillon smiled at us with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He had sandy-coloured shoulder-length hair, and was dressed in jeans and a striped shirt worn over a long-sleeved one. He was good-looking, but far too obnoxious and loud for my taste. Plus, he smoked like a chimney, which I couldn’t stand. Whether it was weed or cigarettes, it went into his mouth and came out in a puff of smoke.

  “Tom!” he said loudly. “Glad that you could make it, mate.” His eyes brushed over me. “Hi, Kelly.” He stepped aside to let us enter.

  Tom manoeuvred me inside. People were either sitting or standing, drinking what looked like beer. Behind them was a kitchen on the other side of a bench. A couple of boys were cooking something on the stove. A sickly sweet smell permeated the place, making me screw up my nose. I looked over at Tom, who was frowning, his eyes focused on the kitchen.

  He placed an arm around my waist. “Look, we can’t stay for long,” he said to Dillon, changing our plans, the smell most likely behind it.

  “Nah, Tom, come out back,” Dillon indicated with his head, “I want to show you my new motorcycle.”

  “Later, man, I have my girl with me.”

  “It won’t take long.” Dillon’s gaze moved to me. “You don’t mind, do ya, Kelly?”

  “I suppose not,” I answered.

  “Sweet.” Dillon indicated to a girl on the couch. “Go sit with my sister.”

  Tom looked at me. “Is that alright?”

  I nodded, having no problem with it. I didn’t know why he was acting so worried.

  “Cool, I’ll be real quick,” Tom said, then turned and followed Dillon out the back.

  I went to sit down on the couch next to Dillon’s sister, who looked like a younger, female version of him. She grunted at me, “Tom’s way too hot for you,” then stood up and disappeared down the passage.

  A few seconds later, a guy headed out of the kitchen with a beer. I recognised him from my economics class. He had wavy black hair, and was wearing ripped jeans and a Jimi Hendrix T-shirt.

  “Hi, Kelly,” Luke said, sitting next to me, his hip touching mine, the couch too small for four people.

  Wishing he wasn’t cramping me, I said “Hi” back.

  “You here alone?” Luke asked.

  “No, I came with Tom.”

  “Yeah, I heard you’re with him.” He leaned forward, placing an elbow on his knee. “How’s it going with him?”

  “Good.”

  “Well, you’ve lasted longer than all the other chicks.”

  “He only arrived this year.”

  “I was referring to before he went to the island. We used to be mates until he stole my girlfriend.” His face soured. “He had her for two weeks before dumping her.”

  I tensed.

  He gave me a tight-lip smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up. Anyway, you’re too nice for him.” He nodded towards the kitchen. “You want anything? A smoke? A drink?”

  “Is there coke?”

  “Nah, that stuff is too expensive, but I can get you some weed.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  He looked at me for a moment, then a wide grin spread across his face. “Oh, you meant the drink. Yeah, I can get you that.” He pushed up out of the seat and weaved around the partygoers. A few moments later, he reappeared with a can of coke and sat back down next to me. He handed it over with a smile.

  Smiling back at him, I took it. “Thanks.”

  “No worries. Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?”

  “Probably going to town with Tom.”

  He placed his beer on the side table next to the couch. “You see him a lot?”

  “Yeah.” I opened my can and took a drink.

  He reached his arms up and stretched them out. “I see you like track.”

  I nodded as I took another drink.

  He placed his arms on the back of the couch, one behind me. “You’re really good.”

  “Thanks,” I said, my eyes going to the back of the house, wishing that Tom would hurry up.

  Luke tapped my shoulder, making me look at him. “I’m into track too.”

  “I haven’t seen you on the team.”

  “I’m not interested in the school team; I only train with my club. You want to train with me some time?” he said, placing his left hand on my shoulder.

  I went to push it off, but instead jolted at Tom’s loud voice: “Get your fucking hand off her before I break it!”

  Luke removed his hand, a sneer forming across his face. “You stole my girl, so why can’t I have a crack at yours?”

  Tom grabbed my arm and yanked me up. “Joanna dumped you before going with me, so don’t give me that shit, and the next time you go near Kelly, I’ll smash your fucking face in.” He pulled me towards the door, his grip too tight.

  “Tom, you’re hurting me.”

  He let go, his expression furious, something I’d never seen before. “Then stay!” he shouted. “I’m sure Luke will be happy to give you a lift home.” He spun around and left through the front door.

  I ran after him, heading outside into the drizzle. “Tom! What is wrong with you?”

  He unlocked his car.

  I opened the front passenger door and quickly jumped in as he got behind the wheel. “Tom, I didn’t do anything.”

  He ignored me and pulled out onto the road.

  “Why are you doing this?” I said, almost in tears.

  “Just don’t talk,” he snapped.

  I closed my mouth, not knowing how to convince him I hadn’t done anything wrong. I looked out my window as houses flew past. Tom was driving too fast, as though he couldn’t wait to dump me back home. After several minutes, he pulled into my driveway.

  I turned to him. “I didn’t do anything, Tom. I’m not interested in Luke or anyone else.”

  Tom stared straight ahead, not answering me. The engine was running as though he expected me to get out so he could leave straight away.

  “Tom?”

  He continued to ignore me, his jaw working. Upset, I turned and pushed open the door, getting out. I just wanted to run to my room before I started crying in front of him. Tom’s voice made me turn back.

  He had his head bowed. “If you cheat on me, no matter how much I love you, I will leave you.”

  “I won’t cheat on you.”

  He looked over at me, the pain in his eyes clear. “Cheating ruins people.” He started reversing the car, making me yell out. I quickly shut the door, watching in disbelief as he pulled out onto the road, disappearing down it. His words returned, the realisation that he’d said he loved me finally dawning on me. But instead of feeling happy, I only felt sadness. I stared down the empty road, knowing I would never cheat on him.

  8

  PRESENT

  Eric Firth moved past me, brushing his hand against my leg as he pushed open the bathroom door. I remained still as it closed behind him, the man disappearing but his touch remaining.

  Another brush of a hand touched my arm, but this one from Tom. I blinked and looked at him. A frown was pulling at the corners of his eyes. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said, his voice a little gruff. Was he angry about the British guy coming onto me? Or maybe he’d noticed how Eric affected me.

  He took my hand, pulling me up the steps. “Do you want another drink?” he asked, letting go.

  I nodded, and sat down on the couch where Eric had been lying naked not so long ago. “Get me a lemon, lime, and gin,” I said, wanting the alcohol to drown my conscience.

  Tom appeared surprised, then a shadow fell over his face. Without a word, he turned and headed down the staircase that led to the bar, his reaction making me feel like I had done something wrong. But instead of following him, I shifted further down the couch and put my bare feet up.

  A man stopped in the doorway that led
to the dark passageway, his eyes going between my thighs. I quickly crossed my legs, remembering I’d left my G-string off. He smiled at me, then walked off.

  A second later, Eric emerged from the dark passageway. He strode past me, appearing totally as ease with being naked. I watched him disappear through the same doorway as Tom had, realising he hadn’t seen me in the corner, which I was happy about, because he was overwhelming. He was much taller than Tom, probably six-foot, although he was leaner. Tom’s construction work had given him bulky muscles, a labourer’s body. Eric’s muscles instead looked like they were made in the gym, or possibly a swimming pool. His waist was small and his shoulders were wide, but proportionally not as wide as Tom’s. I frowned, annoyed that I was comparing them. Tom was definitely my pick, because Mr. Eric Firth was no Gandy, despite winning the genetic lottery. He was a real person, not an ideal of a man. He was just an incredibly handsome guy, who knew how to use his looks to get a fuck out of any women he wanted. But the question was, would I let him fuck me if he wanted a threesome?

  Tom reappeared around the curtained room, startling me. He held out a drink in a tall glass. I took what he was offering, and shifted over.

  “I got hit on,” Tom said, sitting down next to me.

  “By who?” I asked, not surprised, my man a hot number, especially with his shirt wide open, those gorgeous abs of his on display for every woman to drool over.

  “That woman you danced with. She asked if I wanted to go to the toilets with her.”

  I smiled, proud that my husband had turned her down; proof that he had more respect than Eric. I frowned. Or had he? Was he asking permission to have sex with her? I didn’t like the idea of us going into separate rooms with different people. If a threesome happened that would be weird, but we would be together, experiencing it together, but going off with someone else felt wrong—like cheating.

  “What did you say to her?” I asked.

  He frowned. “No, of course. This experience is for the both of us, not for me to go off and fuck someone I don’t even know.”

  “I agree.”

  “Then why did you ask? Don’t you trust me?”

  “Of course I trust you.” I squeezed his knee. “I thought possibly you were asking permission.”

  His frown turned into a grimace. “She isn’t my type.” He leaned towards me and brushed his lips over my ear. “Unlike you, Mrs. Hamlin.” His hand slipped between my thighs, his fingers stroking my naked pussy. “Do you like that?” he asked, pushing a finger inside me.

  I inhaled sharply, nodding my head in agreement, then tensed as a couple walked past us. They didn’t pay us any attention. I relaxed a little, although the exhibitionist in me reared its ugly head, disappointed that we weren’t special enough to notice. For once I wanted to be noticed, like with my writing. I was an exhibitionist and I didn’t even know it until tonight.

  Tom leaned over and started kissing me. His hands went behind my neck, again undoing my dress. He pulled it down and slipped off my bra, exposing my upper body. In the other sex club we’d gone into a room and done something similar, but with my bra on. A man had come in, stopping in the doorway to watch. I hadn’t liked him watching then, but this club was different, the sexual atmosphere much more alive. It was like they’d drugged the air with pheromones, our bodies unable to resist.

  Tom started kneading my breasts, making me groan as his lips moved down my neck. Two men walked past, one of them stopping to look at us—Damian, the leather clad man. He smiled at me, his expression showing how much he was turned-on. I didn’t look away, instead I smiled back. He leaned against the wall and continued to watch, again making me wonder why I wasn’t bothered. Maybe it was because he was attractive, much more so than the creeper at the other club. He placed a hand on his crotch, the slight curve of his upper lip telling me he was settling in for a show. Unable to hold his gaze, I closed my eyes, more interested in enjoying my husband’s talented hands and mouth, than focusing on Fiona’s husband.

  “Rub me,” Tom mumbled with a mouthful of breast.

  I opened my eyes, almost jolting at the sight of a now clothed Eric. He was leaning against the wall next to Damian. Both men were watching us, but it was Eric who was eye-fucking me, because Damian’s eyes were firmly fixed on Tom’s arse, the man obviously bi.

  I quickly dropped my gaze and unzipped Tom’s pants, pulling his cock out. I started rubbing him as he suckled on my breast, pretending that Eric wasn’t watching, because if I stopped now, he would know it was because of him. This was about me and Tom—not Eric. I just needed to concentrate on my husband and not feel so damned guilty over finding Eric attractive.

  I continued to rub Tom’s cock, still willing myself not to look at Eric, who I hoped had moved away, because right here, right now, it felt like there were three of us having sex: Eric eye-fucking me, while Tom literally fucked me with his fingers.

  Tom moved his mouth up to mine. He kissed me for a bit, taking my mind partially off Eric, although the man still lurked at the back of my consciousness, trying to push between us. I felt Tom shimmy his pants off, then he removed my dress completely, leaving me naked. He was going to fuck me again in public, but now more in the open, like those people at the beginning of the night ... and I wasn’t going to stop him.

  I opened my eyes as he climbed between my legs again. He groaned as he entered me, muttering that he loved my pussy. He tipped his head back, capturing my full attention, the length of his neck making me want to kiss it. I ran my fingers over his Adam’s apple. Tom leaned down, probably knowing what I wanted. I kissed his throat, our bodies knowing each other so well, too well, but it was also good, because it meant we knew what the other liked. Plus, with where we were, the excitement was intense, heightened by our gorgeous audience. It made me feel the same excitement I did when I was younger with Tom: the knowledge that I could get in trouble if we went too far, but still aching to do it, because I wanted him so bad. I hadn’t felt like this in years, life getting in the way.

  Tom rocked inside of me, penetrating me just right. I wrapped my legs around his body, not wanting to let go. I didn’t know how long we did that for, just our bodies rocking against each other, becoming one. Though, like all good things I knew it couldn’t last.

  He buried his face in my hair and started thrusting harder, his groans now louder, telling me he was going to come. I opened my eyes, finding Eric still standing there, his face flushed, his eyes on me, the man looking like he was going to come too.

  Tom kept pounding me, the pressure inside of my body rapidly building, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. Unable to look away from Eric, I gripped tighter onto Tom, wanting both men to bring me to completion.

  Eric mouthed, “Come.”

  At his command, I flung my head back, the tightness between my legs shooting up my body. Digging my fingers into Tom’s shoulders, I groaned loudly as I came, my man also coming, his cock pulsating inside of me.

  After he’d finished, he pulled out and smiled down at me dreamily, his satisfied expression causing me to smile back, although I felt just as satisfied as he did.

  He grabbed the towel he’d left on the floor. “I’m going to have a shower.” He picked up his pants and headed down the steps, not looking at Eric, who was a few feet away. I wasn’t sure whether he’d noticed him, but I definitely took in the leather clad man following Tom down the staircase. I wondered whether Damian was going to proposition him, something that Tom definitely wouldn’t like.

  Eric cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to him. He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled at me. Embarrassed, I dropped my gaze. After a few seconds, I looked back up. He was still staring at me, just not saying anything. Did he want to talk to me? Or did he just want to stare? I didn’t know, but I felt too self-conscious to start up a conversation with him, especially since I was stark naked. I lowered my gaze again, hoping he would go away.

  After what felt like forever, my eyes flicked up at the sou
nd of Tom’s voice, finding my husband with a towel wrapped around his hips and holding his clothes. I glanced back to where Eric had been standing, finding him gone.

  “I thought you were going to have a shower,” Tom said, grabbing my attention again. “Still, I like coming back and seeing you look like this. You remind me of those reclining nude women in paintings. Very erotic.”

  “I was just having a rest.” I grabbed my clothes. “I’ll be back soon.” I stopped as the leather clad man headed past us, smiling at Tom sheepishly. He disappeared down the stairs that led to the bar. I turned to Tom. “Damian was ogling you during sex.”

  Tom pulled a face. “I gathered that. The sleazeball started talking to me while I was showering, telling me I had the best looking cockhead he’d ever seen. How do you reply to that?”

  I grinned. “With a thanks, I guess.”

  “I wasn’t going to thank him for staring at my cock,” he muttered, pulling on his shirt.

  “So, what did you say to him?”

  “Nothing. I ignored him and got out of the shower, but he didn’t get the picture to fuck off. Instead, he asked if he could blow me. I told him to go blow himself, then walked out.”

  I laughed. “Got to give the man credit for trying.”

  Tom grumbled, not sounding so amused.

  I leaned forward and kissed him, then got up. “I’ll be back soon, just make sure I don’t return to find a guy at the end of your dick.” I took off, laughing as Tom hurled one of his shoes at me, my husband having good aim.

  I rubbed my arse and pushed into the bathroom. I took a very quick shower, then got dressed even quicker, aware that Eric could come in. Once done, I checked my watch, surprised to find it was two in the morning.