Sweet Love

Audrey lay in bed nude and contemplated the problem at hand. It was serious, and getting seriouser. If she kept stewing, there’d be tension, and that just wouldn’t be good hospitality. Audrey had been raised in the Midwest, where the host-houseguest relationship was considered as sacred as it was to the Greeks; eat your host’s children or kidnap his wife, or, as a host, murder houseguests in their sleep, and you were pretty much screwed.

In that vein, letting things remain tense in this situation would be unthinkable, especially in light of this whole nonmonogamy, polyamory, whosama-whatsit weird processy thing. Weren’t they supposed to talk everything through, ad infinitum, till the cows came home?

Nonmonogamy was Connor’s idea, sure, but Audrey had gotten to like it. That was true even if neither of them had actually acted on it, and the promised threesome with a hot muscle stud had yet to materialize. She was as committed to this process as she was committed to Connor, and if there’s one thing a dozen books on open relationships had taught her, it was that letting small problems fester turned them into big ones.

There was nothing to do but confront Kris. If nothing else, she needed to ensure that the next three days did not devolve into bitter innuendo and resentment, which at the moment they were sort of threatening to.

What had Audrey been thinking? An ex-girlfriend in the guest bedroom? Madness. But this was the naughties, goddamn it, and houseguests were houseguests.

Audrey stretched out in the slanted light coming through the venetian blinds; she could feel her body tingling all over, humming with anxiety and excitement. She rarely slept nude—and yet here she was, stripped and sprawled, horny as hell while still aching from the night before. She could feel the slick moisture between her legs, the hard press of her nipples against the soft cotton sheets. She could still feel Connor all wet deep inside of her, two of him, one face-to-face while he kissed her, the other from behind, her on her knees, facedown, ass up, legs spread and Connor pounding her, thumb in her butthole, hand in her hair, pulling hard as she squealed and came twice, not caring if Kris or the neighbors or the next county over heard her screaming obscenities, voice trembling with orgasm. She’d been much less concerned, at 2:10, whether Kris (or the neighbors) might hear her yowling “Please fuck me!” than she’d been, at 1:30, about whether they might hear her hissing “Don’t make this about intimacy!” in a tone as accusatory as her moments-later “Yeah, pull my hair!” was conciliatory.

And here Audrey was, six hours later, naked, spread, wet, hard, panting, and still wanting more. She thought of her vibe in the top nightstand drawer—no, no time for that. She had to talk to Kris about what had happened last night.

Audrey bounded nude out of bed and went groping after her nightclothes; in a moment, she had squirmed into soft cotton shorts and a tight cotton T-shirt. Outside in the hall, she took long, slow, deep breaths, thinking, Audrey, chill a bit—the girl’s done nothing wrong. She’s an ex, and Connor told you at the outset what good terms he was on with all his exes. Let’s keep it that way—don’t be the wife who fucked up all his friendships.

So she did chill, creeping down the hall barefoot to the guest room, moving slowly and softly, and noting the door was ajar.

She knocked softly, said, “Kris?” meekly.

She pressed the door open, saw Kris’s bright eyes come open, sleep-dull in that pretty face, beneath a rumpled mass of curly blonde that Audrey would have killed for—no, knock that off.

Connor was off at work, and would be till five; they had hours to kill, with those dumb girly plans for the Fine Arts Museum, shopping at Bonne Femme, lunch at La Méchante Salope, espresso afterward at Gusto Peccato, massages at Root Chakra and a trip to Audrey’s favorite fag-hag hair salon, Tease de la Tarte.

If they didn’t clear the air right away, the whole day would be agony.

“Hey, Kris, you awake yet?”

Kris stretched under the covers and brightened.

She squirmed up into a half-sit and said, “I am now.”

She beckoned Audrey in, patting the side of the bed by way of suggesting she might sit down. Audrey did so, noting with some slight distress that Kris, either not expecting company or definitely expecting company, had left her vibrator on the nightstand. The device looked rather well used.

Audrey, sensing that her discomfort had already been spotted, tried to act casual.

“Oh, wow. One of those rechargeables. I’ve been thinking I want one.” She guffawed uncomfortably.

“Well worth it,” said Kris, smiling casually. She reached out, grabbed the vibe from its charger, switched it on, and pressed it into Audrey’s hand with a wicked smile.

“The only way to fly,” Kris said.

Audrey’s face went hot in an instant; she looked down, flustered, as the vibe buzzed in her hand. Kris spotted her embarrassment, smiled and laughed, took the vibe away, put it back in its cradle. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to embarrass you. I wasn’t expecting company. I would have put it back in my bag if—”

“Listen, Kris,” Audrey blurted, her face still red; her embarrassment had spurred her into action. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you…. Connor and I had a bit of a fight last night, and—”

Kris said, “Oh, really?” with a casual brightness that was not at all disingenuous but still made it clear that she’d heard it. Then she frowned and said, “I’m sorry, I’m a bad liar. I heard you fighting.”

“I hope you didn’t hear—”

“Didn’t hear what?” This time Kris’s poker face was much better, and Audrey was left wondering just how much she had heard. Audrey blushed deeper.

“Anyway…see, um, I’m just going to say it. We’re trying out this new nonmonogamy thing.”

“Connor mentioned.”

Audrey caught herself gritting her teeth. She cleared her throat nervously, continued: “…So I’m probably a little oversensitive, but last night it, well…um…I’m not accusing, or anything, but it almost seemed, a little, I mean just a little, not really anything, but…um…should I let you, um, I didn’t realize, should I let you get dressed? I didn’t realize you were…um, should I let you get dressed or something?”

“Huh?” Kris had edged farther up in bed, into more of a sitting position, and the sheets had come sliding away; she was nude. My god, thought Audrey, she has amazing fucking tits. “Oh, I’m sorry—San Francisco. You know how we are out there.” She covered up. “Sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass you. Should I put something on?”

“Not at all,” said Audrey, her eyes all but boring holes through Kris’s hands and the sheet—My god, were those real? “Let’s see,” she said, flustered. “I’m not sure what I’m trying to say.”

“You think I was flirting with Connor,” said Kris. “You think I want to fuck him.”

Audrey swallowed nervously.

“Bingo,” she said grimly.

“I totally understand,” said Kris. “I totally get why you’d be offended.” She grabbed Audrey’s hand and leaned forward again. Audrey’s senses perked as she waited for the covers to fall once more, but the rules of physics seemed held momentarily in abeyance. Kris looked Audrey in the eye and spoke with enormous gravity. “I would never do anything to hurt either of you. I’m just kind of a flirt—I don’t mean anything by it. I’m not after your man, Audrey. He’s yours. Connor and I had a great time together, but that’s over and it didn’t work out and I’m totally into chicks.”

Audrey stared.

“I’m sorry, did you say—”

Kris blinked innocently.

“Bi. But—didn’t he tell you?”

“No,” said Audrey, breathing a sigh of relief. “That makes—”

She paused. She had been going to say something like, “That’s a relief,” but Jesus Christ, how fucking stupid would that have seemed?

Kris said: “Makes you more comfortable?”

“Oh, I wasn’t uncomfortable,” said Audrey, blushing, pulling her hands free and waving them madly, threatening to put an eye out.

Kris grabbed them insistently and held Audrey’s hands firmly.

“Look, Audrey, even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be after Connor at all. Now he’s found you, which is totally what should be. I think you’re a great couple. Am I still attracted to him? Um, yeah, hello! How could any sane woman not want him? I mean, especially once she knows, you know, what he’s like.” She made a salacious little gesture with her eyes that looked far more filthy than if she’d grabbed her crotch. Furthermore, with each word she saw fit to emphasize—never, totally, great, not, like—her fingers moved not on Audrey’s hand, which might have been affectionate, even sisterly, but rather on her wrist, kind of up her wrist, in a tingling suggestive caressing motion that made Audrey acutely aware that Kris was leaning closer.

“What he’s like?”

“Don’t play dumb,” said Kris. “I was here last night. I have ears, Audrey. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to listen, but…it was a little hard to avoid.” She looked guilty. “I tried to respect your privacy. I went out to make microwave popcorn, but—”

“We’re out,” said Audrey apologetically, pulling away. “I’ll get some at Costco today—did you find the Doritos?”

Kris pulled her back.

“It’s all right,” she said warmly. “It really wasn’t the popcorn…and anyway, I could hear you just as well in the kitchen. So I figured…” she shrugged. “Is that pervy of me?”

“You listened?”

“Only after you started enjoying yourself,” said Kris. “The fight was…less interesting. Sorry.”

“I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.”

“I’m mortified,” said Audrey. She tried to pull away, but Kris wouldn’t let her, which actually came as a huge relief. Audrey even let Kris pull her a little closer.

“Look,” said Kris. “I know the nonmonogamy was Connor’s idea. It was when he and I tried it, too…and it was rough going at first, but now I’m a true believer.”

Audrey looked glum. “Believer in what?”

“Take your pick! Having more than one partner. Open relationships. Casual sex. Acknowledging when there’s obvious heat between people. Allowing your partner to be horny, and sexual, and open, and have a good time and enjoy herself and express her sexuality. I’m a true believer in all of that.”

Audrey breathed heavily. “I want to be, too. I want to be a true believer so badly.”

“You will be,” said Kris.

“But how?” Audrey frowned.

Kris looked deep into her eyes; Audrey could smell her, the soft musky night smell of a hot woman sleeping alone and naked after fucking herself with a vibrator. It was a good smell. Audrey was not entirely pleased that she liked it.

“You just do it,” said Kris. “You know, seize opportunity. That’s why it’s nonmonogamy and not polyamory, at least as Connor conceives it. There’s no negotiation up front—you sort it all out afterward.”

“I don’t think he’d put it that succinctly.”

“Well…he’s not the one who has a beautiful girl in his bed right now. Maybe I’m rationalizing.”

Audrey’s mind exploded with randomly collected thoughts as Kris inched closer, their eyes meeting between nervous smiles and the faintest sprinkling of laughter.

My god, Audrey thought. Just the thought is so fucking filthy—his ex-girlfriend, and a houseguest. I couldn’t. And I’m so not a lesbian. I mean, what does one even do with pussy? It’s like…you can’t put it in you. I mean, what would…fingers? Hm. Well, that’s…and tongues. She’s so pretty. I could never. I mean never.

Besides, there’s the interpersonal stuff. Out of the question. Audrey breathed deep. She does smell quite good, though. Wow. She’s not holding the covers very carefully. I can totally see half of her. My god, they’re perfect. Audrey’s nipples stiffened.

“I’d love to be able to do that, Kris, but you don’t understand. I was raised in the Midwest….”

“Right,” said Kris, who had inched closer. “But you are in New York, now…and as an emissary from San Francisco, I feel it’s my duty—”

Then it was over, and it was not a hypothetical should-we-start? the answer to which seemed murky at best, but a very concrete should-we-continue? which seemed pretty fucking obvious as a hot rush of excitement consumed Audrey’s body.

Audrey never, ever kissed with morning breath—it was one of her rules, like the sleeping with clothes and the bulk-snacks-for-houseguests. She also was not a bisexual; all this college crap about girls making out to get frat boys popping boners right and left seemed like bullshit to her, and Connor’s “everyone’s bisexual” argument had been shut down by Audrey as the rank male hypocrisy it was, when she’d told him flat-out she’d eat pussy when he sucked dick.

Connor had shrugged. “Almost worth it,” he said. “How about kissing?”

Sensing his annoyance and tacitly pleased by it, Audrey had leaned in close and said, “When you kiss a boy,” with a saucy, naughty sound to it. Dismayed by her then-boyfriend’s mischievous smirk, Audrey had spent the time between then and now vaguely anxious whenever she thought of it, because she found it vaguely terrifying, the thought of kissing a girl. If she did, she sometimes thought as she daydreamed, she’d like it to be perfect: a soft summer breeze blowing at a romantic nude picnic, say, with a string quartet playing “Just the Way You Are” and Catherine Zeta-Jones using stolen Russian plans or something to blackmail her into a make-out session. Such a thing seemed, at best, unlikely to happen any time soon.

But then, here Audrey was, about to make out with Kris, and she wasn’t even drunk. Conditions were far from perfect, the interpersonal dynamics absolutely terrifying, and her lips still aching from hard kisses just last night from the man Kris had spent two years fucking. And here she was, trembling as Kris drew closer and their gazes locked, both bright with promise and fear. Audrey’s tongue lolled out easily the moment they made contact, as if it was the most natural thing in the world not only to kiss her husband’s slutty West Coast ex-girlfriend, but to do it open-mouthed with morning breath while drawing the covers away.

Floodgates opened, or at least it kinda felt like that, as Audrey surged forward kissing hard and pressed her cotton-clad body against Kris’s naked one, bearing Kris back prone onto the bed and climbing atop her in an easy hands-and-knees posture in which Kris’s slight, slim body fit easily under Audrey’s taller muscular form. Their kiss deepened, and Audrey’s body settled down as if of its own accord, her mind thinking so many thoughts at once that they all added up to thinking nothing at all. When one thought finally broke free, it was after Kris had gotten her hands up under Audrey’s shirt and began to caress her back, easing up so far that just a few inches would bring those perfect hands with their pretty fingers into contact with Audrey’s firm tits. And the thought that broke free was: Am I being the aggressor, here?

“Is this all right?” Audrey’s thought spilled out between slurpy morning-breath kisses, barely audible with Kris’s tongue half-stuffed in Audrey’s mouth. She managed to pull back a bit to stare into Kris’s quizzical look, and repeated her question: “Is this all right?” to which Kris rolled her eyes and made a pfft sound that said something like “Shut up and fuck me.”

By then Kris had Audrey’s shirt pulled up over her tits and was caressing her nipples with exquisite circles of her sweat-damp palms, so Audrey put up her arms and let Kris strip her down. The shorts were even easier; Audrey just felt Kris’s legs going tight-wrapped around her, and one naked foot slid the thin cotton shorts to Audrey’s ankles—and she surged forward, drunk with excitement, and pressed naked body to naked body, cunt meeting cunt so that Audrey cried out. Kris’s was shaved, Audrey’s trimmed close; with little between clit and clit, Audrey let out a long keening wail and her eyes rolled back into her head as she issued a long string of obscenities—not unlike the night before, when Kris had listened to Audrey spewing the same horny coprolalia, lying here spread with her vibe working rhythmically into her cunt.

That thought sizzled in Audrey’s mind as her pussy went sliding easily against Kris’s; had she seen this in a book or something? Watched it in a porno? It came so fucking easy; just tangle your legs around the other girl’s lean back and—

“Fuck, that feels good,” Audrey murmured, and Kris gave a cackle.

“Does it?”

Then Kris flipped her, the old creaky guest bed shuddering as Audrey came down, legs spreading, head toward the foot. Kris pinned her with her hand tangled in Audrey’s hair, and kissed hard. She then slurped her way down Audrey’s naked front, tongue swirling around her nipples just long enough to elicit little gasps before heading south between Audrey’s spread legs.

“Um…um…hey, isn’t this wrong? I mean, Connor—”

Kris looked up wickedly from between Audrey’s legs.

“Right. I’m sure he’s going to be really pissed off that his wife and ex-girlfriend got it on in the guest bed while he was at work. I think he’s really going to be upset about that.”

“I see your point.”

Audrey sighed as Kris’s pretty face dipped down between her spread legs and her urgent tongue began licking Audrey’s clit. Audrey’s back arched and her knees cocked, her ass grinding hard against Kris’s digging fingernails, the sharp pain mingling with the hot waves of pleasure from Kris’s expert tongue. One hand wrenched free and traveled up to caress Audrey’s tits. Audrey thought she was reaching up to hold hands or something—didn’t lesbians do that?—and groped after them, but Kris’s hand started caressing both her nipples at once, and Audrey’s own hands went limp and helpless as she trembled all over. Kris’s tongue swirled invitingly around Audrey’s clit and down her cunt lips, teasing into the hole—oh, fuck, she was wet, she was totally wet, there was cum in there, filthy! Filthy! Filthy! Kris made a mewling sound, a sort of “Mmm, mmm,” and Audrey, mortified, shut her eyes tight and tried to forget—oh, fuck, fuck, this feels good.

Kris, quite finished exploring and ready for business, settled into a rhythm. Her lips closed firmly around Audrey’s clit, her tongue seething rhythmically. Audrey shut her eyes tight and rocked her hips against Kris’s thrusts. She looked down at Kris, caressing the girl’s hair, her arousal mounting as she watched Kris get lost in the rapture of working her tongue against Audrey. Then two of Kris’s fingers worked easily into Audrey’s cunt. Kris kept her fingernails short—probably a lesbian thing—and Audrey felt the slickness of Connor’s semen inside her, alternately thrilled and horrified by the feel of it dribbling out onto Kris’s hand. Then she closed her eyes tight and forgot everything except the pressure of Kris’s expert fingers on her G-spot and her tongue on Audrey’s clit. But even so, she felt waves of anxiety—would she be able to come?

She felt the reach of Kris’s arm over her, heard the click as the vibrator detached from the charging base; then she heard buzzing.

Mortified, Audrey opened her mouth to say, “Shouldn’t you wash that?” and instead drizzled, “Oh fuck oh motherfuck oh fucking motherfuck oh fuck fucking motherfucking fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” since by that time the dextrous Kris had gotten the tip of the vibe up against Audrey’s clit, and now there was just no fucking question that anybody would ever fucking wash fucking anything, fucking ever again. Audrey clawed the sweaty bedsheets and thought up half a dozen new obscenities as Kris found exactly the right angle.

She was close, fast; her back arched and she leaned back screaming and clawing. Her arms went flailing over the edge of the bed, her eyes popping open, and—

Oh. That explained the footsteps.

“Um… Hi, baby,” said Audrey.

“I guess you skipped the museum.”

Funny how when you’re doing one thing, you know, focused, you can hear a sound but not hear a sound, or not react to it. Shouldn’t Kris have been paying more attention? No, don’t blame this on her, thought Audrey. This is totally you. You’re the married one.

Kris stopped licking, came up from between Audrey’s legs with her face glistening and sticky. Her fingers were still thrust deep into Audrey, and both women could feel the pressure from Audrey’s swelling G-spot.

“I can explain,” said Audrey.

“I’m listening,” said Connor.

“Hey, you’re home early,” said Audrey brightly.

“It’s lunchtime,” said Connor.

“Oh,” said Audrey breathlessly. “Is it lunchtime already?”

“I see the two of you started without me.”

“Free buffet,” said Kris, clearing her throat. “Listen, Connor, do we need to process this for the next umpteen hours and get all weird, polyamorous blah blah blah blah on each other? Or would you like to fuck your wife?”

With that word, “fuck,” Kris’s fingers went gently pressing on Audrey’s G-spot, and she gave a girlish little whimper, as if begging.

“I think I’d like to fuck my wife,” said Connor, pulling off his tie and reaching for his belt.

“As I figured,” sighed Kris as her wet mouth slowly descended between Audrey’s spread cunt lips. “Like you haven’t—oh, mm”—she made wet sounds, slurping whimpers—“at least thought of it?”

Then Audrey was lost in the taste and smell of her husband, as his cockhead nuzzled easily against her lips and went sliding deep into her mouth and then her throat—holy shit, this was a great position for that, throat nice and open, straight and relaxed. She had to pull back as she cried out and came, but besides that the only time Connor left her mouth was when he had all of his clothes off and was ready to fuck her.

To her credit, Kris asked nicely before she helped guide it in. And the little hot flare of jealousy that almost made Audrey say no was nothing compared to the surge of arousal as she felt Kris’s perfect fingers not only guiding Connor’s prick into her, but parting Audrey’s cunt lips—holding her open, ready for Connor. Kris asked a second time before she kissed Connor as he fucked her; this time, Audrey didn’t feel that hot flare of jealousy, just a pulse of arousal as she watched the two kiss above her.

Then Connor was fucking fast, and Audrey pulled Kris close as she came.

Afterward, they lay in a tangle for just about as long as it took for Connor to complain that he’d be late back from lunch. A nooner with two beautiful women, think the boss would buy this excuse?

Kris and Audrey kicked him out of bed; they had massages to get. And probably some talking to do, but not until after a rubdown. The day was still young—especially now that the air was clear.