You, Me & Her

by Tanya Chris

He laughed. “If you’re gonna do it with Sherry, let her walk you through it so you don’t spoil things for the rest of us, but I’ll be honest with you, the ass is my third favorite hole. Yeah there’s the taboo aspect, which is hot, but for pure sensation I’ll take pussy any day. See an ass really only grips right at the sphincter. It’s like this—” He made an OK sign with his thumb and forefinger and mimicked sliding it up and down. “A pussy’s more like this—” He closed his hand into a loose fist and made a few more motions. “I don’t know about you, but when I jerk off, I use the whole hand.”

  “So pussy’s your favorite hole?”

  “By a fair margin. How about you?”

  “It’s a tough call, but I guess I’d pick mouth.”

  “Lucky I have one of those then.”

  I relaxed back onto my pillow, tucking an arm behind my head. “How about the other way? You ever been on the receiving end?”

  “Sure. You haven’t at all?”

  “How would I have?”

  “You got the same ass, regardless of who’s handling it. There’s an erogenous zone up there. You’ve heard of the prostate, right? So girl, guy, toy—whatever floats your boat—it feels good. You’ve never had anything in your ass at all? Like a woman’s giving you a blowjob and she sticks a finger up there?”

  I shook my head.

  “Next time you have some alone time with Sherry, ask her to do that. I’m surprised she hasn’t dropped it on you already, actually, but it would be a good, non-threatening introduction. You ever heard of pegging?”

  I shook my head again.

  “You’re not watching the right porn. Pegging is when a girl straps on a dildo and fucks a guy in the ass with it. That’s what I meant about sex acts not being tied to sexual orientation. Being with a man doesn’t mean you have to take a cock up the ass, and being with a woman doesn’t mean you can’t.

  “Do you and Sherry do that?”

  “We haven’t yet. She’s never expressed an interest and, for me, when I want a cock in my ass, I want a real one. The man is part of it.”

  “So what does getting fucked feel like?”

  “Tough to put into words. Prostate stimulation feels like getting jerked off from the inside—deeper, more emotional, consuming. You owe it to yourself to find out, so pick somebody or something and give it a shot. Getting fucked feels like, well, it feels like getting fucked. No better way to describe it. You ever wondered how that felt for the woman?”

  “It’s part of why I like the threesomes, imagining what she’s feeling.”

  “It feels like being taken,” Joshua said, “like possession. Everything you’re feeling towards a woman when you’re fucking her, it feels like having that given to you.”

  “If I ever wanted to try it, would you fuck me?” I didn’t know if I’d want to, but I knew who I’d want to do it if I did.

  He rolled over so we were face to face, his eyes intense. He took my chin in his hand and kissed me softly.

  “Are you trying to distract me because the answer is no?”

  “I’m trying to distract myself so I don’t scare you with how hard the answer is yes.”

  “Even though it’s your third—”

  “Stop.” He kissed me again. “You’re not a hole. If you ever decide you want me to do that, I’d be honored. Honored and ridiculously eager.”

  I could feel his cock twitch against my hip, despite the two orgasms he’d just had. My own twitched in response even as the fear rose up into my throat. I struggled to keep my eyes on his. “Not today, though,” I said.

  “No. Not today. Not ever, if you don’t want to. And if we try it once and you don’t like it, then never again. I’m not married to any sex acts. If our whole relationship was your dick in my mouth, you wouldn’t hear me complain.”

  “Because your mouth would be full.”

  He burst out laughing. He pulled me on top of him and wrapped me up hard. “God, I’m crazy about you. I can’t tell you what a relief this is. It’s like two parts of me have been trying not to touch each other and now I can be whole again.”

  I knew exactly how that felt, except the part of me I’d been trying to keep locked away was a new, fresh part opening up to the sun for the first time.

  “I should have known,” Sherry said from the doorway, mock fury on her face. “The minute I turn my back, the whole ‘all about Sherry’ thing is out the window and you two are at each other. You,” she said, leaning over to kiss me, “are too irresistible. And you—” she kissed her husband “—apparently have the power to turn straight men bi. You just couldn’t keep your hands off him, could you?” she asked me.

  “I couldn’t,” I admitted. I rolled off Joshua to get a better view of Sherry stripping off her clothes.

  “There’d better still be room for me in this bed. If the two of you have used each other up, there’s going to be hell to pay. Prepare to service me.”

  “She’s bluffing,” Joshua said. “She was with Darius all afternoon.”

  “Who’s Darius?” I asked, not that I was worried. Joshua and I were both sporting chubbies from our conversation and my tongue was always up for the job even when my dick wasn’t.

  “Darius is her big black stud.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Bigger than you or blacker than you?”

  “Studlier than me. And don’t get your hopes up. He only plays one-on-one.”

  “Thank God,” Sherry said. “More than one of him would kill me.” She squirmed naked between the two of us. “I’m so glad you two have made up. We’re going to have a lot of fun in this bed.”

  Chapter 26

  Again I slept—the sleep of the damned who’d been unexpectedly saved. I woke in the darkening room to find Sherry leaning over me. Her signature scent wafted out from between her barely corralled breasts.

  “Joshua said to get up.”

  “Oh yeah?” I slid one hand under the skirt of her shorty nightgown and the other behind her head. “Or you could get in bed.”

  She allowed me to tug her closer but she didn’t join me in the bed as invited. “He’s making dinner. Plus, he said if you don’t get up now you’ll never sleep tonight and then you’ll be sorry tomorrow.”

  “I am hungry.” My stomach, as if agreeing, rumbled out a loud groan.

  “Hungry or just happy to see me?”

  “I’m starving.” I yanked her the rest of the way on top of me and then rolled, flipping her onto her back. “But I could eat you.” While she made yummy noises, I nibbled my way down her body and under her skirt.

  “That’s not why I sent her in here,” Joshua said from the door, a spatula in hand.

  “What did you think would happen?” I pulled my head out from beneath her skirt and rested it on her thigh. Her hands ran through my hair.

  “Yeah, I realized it was a tactical error a little too late. That’s why I’m in here providing backup. You have fifteen minutes before dinner. You want Sherry or a shower?”

  I sighed into Sherry’s leg, then gave it a kiss and pushed myself off the bed.

  “You’re seriously choosing a shower?”

  “Sorry, sweetheart. I feel like yesterday’s garbage. You can come with.”

  Joshua rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like that would only take fifteen minutes.” He disappeared from the doorway.

  I left Sherry on the bed and strolled naked to the bathroom where I regarded myself in the mirror. With no one around to see me, I let the smile drop from my face. The man in the mirror looked back at me with accusing eyes.

  So, I was happy now. Got everything I wanted. Nice. Too bad Deb was in the hospital or, worse, maybe back out of the hospital and drinking again. Too bad Lissie blamed me for it. Too bad she remembered our relationship as a trauma she’d lived through. Too bad the show didn’t have a leading lady. Too bad everything outside this house was a shambles. Too bad about all of that because here, inside this house, I was happy.

  Back in the bedroom after quickly scrubbing off a day-
and-a-half’s worth of accumulated sweat, hospital grime, and random bits of semen, I contemplated the pile of my clothes on the floor with distaste. The jeans were fine, but a fresh pair of boxers and a clean shirt would feel good. I opened a random drawer. Lingerie. Nice.

  “You going to come out as a cross dresser too?” Sherry lounged her way into the room and flopped onto the bed.

  I pushed the drawer shut.

  “Man-panties are in that dresser.” She pointed to a smaller dresser on the other side of the room. “Top drawer. He won’t mind,” she added when I hesitated. “He’ll probably never wash them again.”

  I pulled on a pair of Joshua’s boxers. They drooped, so that the waistband ended up fashionably below my hips, but they stayed on. I dove speedily into my jeans for the primary purpose of keeping my drawers up.

  “Let me pick out a shirt. Everything you wear is so blah.”

  “It’s just a t-shirt and jeans.”

  “Exactly. Everything you wear is a t-shirt and jeans. You’re adorable in basic man-wear but we can do better.”

  “Joshua does look nice,” I admitted.

  “Right? Like, if it weren’t for the way I dress him, would you ever even have gone gay for him?”

  “Probably.” Although I did remember noticing more than once the way Joshua’s clothes fit him, the way they highlighted some of his most highlightable features.

  Sherry pulled a long-sleeved, lightweight shirt from the closet and held it up against my chest. “The perfect shade of blue for your eyes.”

  I had to admit she was right. With my wet hair slicked back, the ringlets at the nape of my neck starting to curl as they dried, and the shirt she’d chosen bringing out the color of my eyes, I looked like a movie star version of myself, like a guy who could turn heads.

  “You going to let me dress you from now on?” Sherry wrapped her arms around me from behind while I admired myself in the mirror on the closet door.

  “I doubt I can afford it.” I fingered the silky texture of the cloth that clung to the barely-there muscles of my chest making them look slightly more there.

  “All second-hand. I never buy any of our clothes new. Too expensive, plus too boring. Everything new is the same. Let’s go shopping next weekend, OK? Once I’ve got some practice dressing you, you don’t even have to come, but I’ll need you to model for me until I get the hang of you.”

  “Dinner,” Joshua yelled from the kitchen.

  I turned away from the mirror and padded barefoot after a barefoot Sherry into the kitchen. The table looked like my mother’s on Sunday, covered in steaming food, the odors rising and mixing and pulling me forward.

  “Dude, you made pork chops?” I pulled out a chair and sat down, then realized Joshua was frozen, staring at me. “Am I in your seat?” I only ever sat at the table when it was breakfast—me and Joshua—and half the time Joshua was on his feet, cooking, clearing, being Joshua. Maybe there were assigned seats for dinner.

  Joshua shook his head and said, “Anywhere is fine,” and leaned down to kiss me. “You look nice, is all.”

  Sherry smirked at me and the three of us tucked into dinner, passing plates and praising the chef. I ate with impolite haste, but it was good and I was starving. The last time I’d been awake, I’d only made it about halfway through the plate of eggs Joshua had scrambled for me.

  “So,” he said, when my pace tapered off, “I got a call from Deb earlier.”

  I looked up from my second helping of mashed potatoes.

  “She wanted to talk through her options.”

  “What did she decide?”

  “She’s going to stick around for the five-day detox, so we’re assuming she’ll miss the show this weekend. Even if she’s out of the hospital, she’ll be groggy and fragile and not ready to jump straight into a performance. Carol texted everyone earlier to see if we can rehearse Wednesday, and then we’ll have pick-up, of course.”

  A pick-up rehearsal on the Thursday after opening night was part of the standard show schedule. That plus an extra rehearsal Wednesday would give Mikaela two chances to run through the show without the pressure of an audience. I wiggled my phone out of my pocket. Sure enough, I had a text from Carol.

  “Works for me,” I said as I typed the same words back to Carol. “What happens after five days?”

  “We’ll see. The five days gives her time to negotiate with her insurance company. She might not be back at all. Probably best for the show to assume she won’t be.”

  I scowled at the pile of delicious mashed potatoes in front of me. I wanted what was best for Deb—of course—but it was a shame about the show, from her perspective as well as mine. She’d worked hard, and opening night she’d shown us everything she could bring to the role.

  Sherry and I cleared the table and did the washing up, which was the deal between Joshua and Sherry—apparently it was only I who’d been given the full-sloth option of not helping at all—while Joshua watched us from the table, his eyes jumping between us as though he couldn’t decide where to look.

  “I suppose I should get going,” I said when we’d finished.

  “Why do you suppose that?” he asked.

  So I stayed, falling easily into the old rhythms of the three of us together but with a new sense of ease that allowed anyone to touch anyone, the net result of which turned out to be a mini floor orgy. Settling into bed afterwards, I pushed Joshua into the middle because we didn’t have to sleep boy-girl-boy anymore.

  “But I don’t like the middle,” he protested.

  We switched places, which made me the center of attention once again. Funny how that worked.

  I wasn’t sure I’d sleep—my sleep cycle was so off-kilter from the last two days—but snuggled between the two of them, warm flesh every which way I turned, sleep came and stayed.

  ~~~

  The first thing I did when I got to rehearsal Wednesday night was find Joshua and kiss him. Pete extracted a twenty from his wallet, handed it over to Repeat, and that was the end of that, although Pete did pull me aside later to lodge a complaint: “Dude, you cost me twenty bucks. Can’t you keep it in your pants, like, ever?”

  Derek had more to say, although it wasn’t so much the news about Joshua that had him bugging. When he walked through the door Monday after work to find me already on the couch, he was relieved to see me.

  “You haven’t been home since Saturday morning.” His hand worked at the top button of his shirt. “I didn’t know where you were.”

  “I spent last night at Joshua’s, and Saturday night—” I stopped, not sure how much I should share.

  “Yeah, I know. Lissie called Sunday and filled me in on that part, but I was worried when you didn’t come home last night. You’re usually home on work nights.”

  “Sorry. It didn’t occur to me you’d worry.” It wasn’t as though I kept Derek informed of my escapades.

  “Wouldn’t normally, I guess, but after all that drama— and Lissie is, like, pissed.”

  I nodded. “And you are too?”

  He dropped down onto the other end of the couch and muted the television. “I didn’t know Deb and I don’t know the situation. Who am I to judge?”

  “From what I hear, you’ve already judged. Lissie told me you think I’m an asshole.” I looked right at him so he knew I wasn’t going to allow him to slough the words off.

  “I used to. When the three of us were, you know, entangled, I thought she should dump you and stick to me, and my justification for that was that you were an asshole, because otherwise I’d have had to acknowledge the fact that you were there first. If there was someone who should’ve bowed out, it was me.”

  “I didn’t want you to bow out.”

  “I know. So that makes you nicer than me, I guess.”

  “Not nicer, just different. As we heard from Deb, I’m not nice at all. I’m an asshole, just like she said. Like Lissie said, like you said.”

  Derek fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, undoing two more
along his chest and the ones at his wrists. Below the folded-back cuffs and through the open V, I saw the bruises he normally hid. After a few moments of silence, I gave up on further conversation and reached for the remote.

  “You were nice to Jenny,” he blurted out. “She and Tommy are an item now at the gym.”

  That was good to hear. It’d been a while since I’d checked in with her, although I’d assumed no news was good news.

  “I was worried it would spoil things if she was still sleeping with you.” Derek rubbed one of his thumbs over the bruise around his other wrist, his eyes following the movement. “And I might have said something to her about it.”

  “I don’t seduce unwilling victims.”

  “I know, I know. Maybe she’d be willing, though. Women seem to be willing when it comes to you, even when it’s not in their best interest.”

  “And that’s my fault?”

  “Not saying it’s your fault, just saying I talked to her about it. I was channeling Lissie, I guess. None of my business, I know.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Anyway, my point is, she explained what you’d done—how you kind of guided them together and then left them alone, and now she’s with Tommy, not you, and you basically engineered that. Which was ... noble, nice.”

  I could see the sincerity on Derek’s face. As half-assed an apology as that had been, he’d intended his story as a peace-offering.

  “Thanks.”

  “Thanks for being nice to Jenny. She’s important to me.”

  “I know.”

  Since he’d given me something, I gave him something back. “Looks like I’ve moved on to men anyhow.”

  “Dude, you did the deed? How was it?”

  “Fun, sweet, hot. Normal.”

  Derek accepted the new normal without hesitation, and coming out at the theater was as much a non-event as I’d expected it to be, the more pressing issue of running a show without one of our leads and the distraction of Repeat holding hands with a girl totally upstaging my big moment. Joshua and I were already an established couple. Repeat and Mikaela were the ones making news.

  With two successes behind me, I contemplated where to come out next. I could tell my sister Bella, give her a heads up. She wouldn’t do worse than roll her eyes and make a smart-ass comment similar to Pete’s. But the rest of my family? Did I have to “come out” to my mother? That was how I thought of it—in quotations.