Debbie Does Dallas was still playing in a loop, the lowered volume seeping surround sounds of sex. John Cross smirked. Shay resisted watching porn with him. The few times he’d cajoled her into it, she didn’t like it, saying it turned her off not on. He should be jealous but he wasn’t. She was reposed like an angel, a wondrously sated angel, displayed naked on her back, one knee bent unveiling her ripeness. John Marshall lay stretched out on his stomach on the opposite side, knocked out, snoring slightly. My man, he thought.
John Cross peeled off his clothes. When he was down to his bare skin, he leaned over Shay, kissed her mouth and penetrated her deep with his fingers. She came awake from her dreamy state languidly, squirming on his hand: “Oh, John…”
Her eyes flickered open and widen in
recognition and alarm.
John Cross kissed her mouth roughly.
“Wrong John, babe.”
Easing over her body, replacing his
fingers with his burgeoning manhood, he moved into her damp heat and shuddered
to a stop.
“John, please—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” he said
thickly.
He regained focus and stirred inside
her. “Fuck me, Shay,” he urged at her ear.
“Not here.”
“Yes,
here.”
“Please…John, let’s go to your
suite.”
“Let’s not.”
Even though he wanted to humiliate
her, what else other could she do even as she lay beside John Marshall? How
angry John Cross must be at her betrayal! She couldn’t bear to have him hate
her. Neither could she blame him if he
did. She was all for him punishing her
in this manner so they could move past it. Move on to what? The thought frightened
her. And where would that leave John Marshall whom she had come to adore. Oh, God, this was crazy!
The quicker this was over, the quicker they
were out of John Marshall’s bed
Shay raised her hips to meet him.
And it would be the first time and the last
time she ever faked it.
When he finished, he crashed to the
other side of her, throwing a possessive arm tight around her waist. She
couldn’t even escape the bed. She lie between them, and cried herself to sleep.
It had been an exhausting night for her.
What a distinctive, striking vision
they made! One brown womanly body sandwiched between two virile pale ones.
Color-blind love squared.
John Marshall slept
through the whole John-exchange.
Which calls into question: when is a threesome not a threesome?
Which calls into question: when is a threesome not a threesome?
When Shay woke next, she was alone,
daylight was squeezing through the vertical blinds and Igor the bantam perched atop
the gazebo was crowing a love song. If
only she felt that cheerful! A sheet covered her body, the edge tucked beneath
her chin. She lay there in uncertainty
staring up, her arm across her forehead, wondering what last night meant
besides her utter humiliation.
She feared this day would come. She
and John Marshall would be found out. She should have been better prepared to
deal with it. She wasn’t.
Now that John Cross knew of their
betrayal, what would he do?
What happened between the Johns
while she slept in?
Did they fight? Did they argue? Or...did they decide she wasn't worth it and exchanged high fives between them?
Did they fight? Did they argue? Or...did they decide she wasn't worth it and exchanged high fives between them?
She did not regret her time with
John Marshall last night. He was fun, uninhibited; lusty and loving all at the
same time. He’d asked her once to think
about why she could not resist him. She now knew the answer—she was in love
with him. In love with John Marshall!
And John Cross—finding her in John
Marshall’s bed!
He had to be devastated and upset
with her so why tell her he loved her more than life itself before dropping off
to sleep?
And why did he stay in John
Marshall’s bed afterward?
As there were no answers falling from the
ceiling, she stirred finally. Her body ached from all last night’s
activities. What she needed was to soak
in a bath of Epsom Salts, her panacea. With a heavy sigh, Shay swept the soiled
sheets from the bed as though she could sweep the whole affair back to some
multiverse in time space continuum. She wondered how her doppelgangers were
handling their own Johns-quandary. She hoped at least they were smarter.
Time to rise and face the music.
The mansion was eerily quiet and
abandoned.
And stayed that way for several
days.
John Marshall was scheduled for a
Dallas meeting. He texted her tersely: “you okay?” She texted him back in kind:
“I’m fine”.
She called John Cross over and over
but the calls went straight to his voice mail. Finally he returned her call.
“What do you want, Shay?”
“I want to talk to you. To
explain.” But that wasn’t going to be
easy. In fact, John Cross refused
to hear her out. His voice came over the phone line, chilly and indifferent:
“What, Shay? You slept with John Marshall.
What do you want from me?”
“Your understanding.”
“Did he rape you…force you?”
“No.”
“You did what you wanted to do,
Shay.”
“I thought that’s what you wanted.
You told me to—to help him.”
“Gee, Shay, how many times did you help him?”
“More than a few times…” she
admitted ruefully.
“Quite a few according to John. Did he lie? I want you to think about what you
did, Shay. Don’t blame this on me.”
“I’m so ashamed…and embarrassed…and sorry.”
“Sorry?
Because I caught you lying naked in my best friend’s bed? I don’t fault John
for not resisting you. He is who he is.
Ruled by his lust. No woman is hands-off.
Not even mine. And knowing him, I can imagine what all went down in his bed.
Did you...enjoy being with him?”
“John, I...I’m not going to lie. I
did.”
“More than being with me?”
She groaned. “Nooo…not at all.
You’re both…magnificent...lovers.” So
true.
“So you’re saying it takes two men
to satisfy you?”
“I’m not saying that at all.” God, why was he asking her these things?
“Would you rather the three of us slept in the same bed? Would that make you happy? Because I want you to be happy, Shay.”
“You’re saying these things because you’re angry and hurt. Please—”
“I’m not saying that at all.” God, why was he asking her these things?
“Would you rather the three of us slept in the same bed? Would that make you happy? Because I want you to be happy, Shay.”
“You’re saying these things because you’re angry and hurt. Please—”
“Are you going to fuck him again?”
What? Is this an
interview? Did he have a checklist on a questionnaire?
The question was
quite unexpected; and her pause way too long.
“Answer my question, Shay. Are you
going to fuck John Marshall again?”
“I get it! You’re pissed and you
have every right to be.”
“You’re in love him, aren’t you?”
John Cross sighed resignedly.
“Don’t do this. I love you!” she exclaimed. She had to convince
him before he hung up on her.
“Do you, Shay?”
“Yes! I wasn’t trying to hurt you or punish you. I
was…I was lonely.”
“Lonely?”
“Inside myself. Please understand, John. I love you.”
“You love me. Then that’s all that
matters. Right, Shay? I’ve got to go.”
Then he cut her off before she could ask when he was coming home. She
hadn’t seen him in several days and she didn’t know where he was or what he was
doing.
Evidently, neither did John
Marshall.
He told her so that next night when
she ran out into the grand hall from the parlor where she had been curled up in
a chair by the fire waiting for John Cross to come home.
“Oh, it’s you.”
“What am I? Chopped liver?” He
followed her back into the warm, cozy room where she curled back into her ball.
He pulled her up from the chair, sat
down in it, drawing her into his lap. “Look, I’m sure he’s alright.”
“You know where he is,” she accused.
“No, Shay, I don’t.
“I’m concerned,” she said.
“Don’t be. He’s a big boy,” he
soothed, easing his hand under her skirt, along her thigh.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“We can’t be doing this. It’s wrong.
I’m trying to smooth things over with John.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard.”
“It will be near impossible if he
walks in and—”
“Shay—he texted me. He’s not returning tonight. He still has a bug
up his ass. He said despite what he witnessed, he loves you…and that you two had…well…some intimacy issues
and if you had to stray, he was glad it was me. There’s no damage to our friendship,
Shay, if you’re concerned about that. He’ll come back to you. Because he knows
if he doesn’t, I’ll be waiting in the wings to have you all to myself. Don’t
sweat it.”
Oh, but she did sweat it. It was her nature to sweat
things that threatened her security.
“In the meantime, let me take your
mind off things…calm you…ease the tension…” He nuzzled her throat, slipping his
fingers inside her panty leg. “Remember, we’ll always have Paris and Debbie Does Dallas. I just want to feel
you, baby. Any harm in that?”
And she wanted him to feel her. Really
she did. But her common sense kicked in.
“But it might lead to something more.”
“It won’t. I’m in control.”
That made Shay suspicious. John
Marshall was never in control where female tail was an option.
“Where were you tonight?”
His hand went still. “Does it
matter?”
She scrambled off his lap. “I am
such a fool. You were just in the bed of another woman. You’re never satisfied.”
“That’s where we are alike, Shay.”
“No, we’re not. I have scruples.”
“I could screw you and your scruples
right now if I pursued it. Don’t fool yourself.”
“I can’t believe I let myself be
sucked in by you again! Just…ooh! Don’t touch me!” Shay flounced away. He
followed her at a leisurely pace to her room where she slammed the door.
“Shay,” he called after her. “I just want us
to be real with each other.”
“The hell with you, John Marshall!”
“What do you want from me, damn it!”
“Nothing! Nothing at all! Leave me alone.”
"How can I? I'm not Superman, Shay," he shouted through her door.
The next evening, she and John
Marshall were forced to work in tandem entertaining guests for dinner: two of the largest donors to the
Foundation, the Capwells. Shay prepared the three-course meal, giving John
Marshall the cold shoulder when he offered to assist. She was a good cook and
often prepared the food for small gatherings. She put on her brightest smile and
charming manners throughout the evening because it was her job but inside she
seethed and John Marshall knew she seethed.
The second the Capwells said their farewells and was out the door, John
Marshall grabbed Shay’s arm and yanked her to him. “What the hell do you want
from me, Shay?” he demanded again. “You
know damn well how much I want you. It’s up to you: me, him, or both.”
“Let go of me!”
“That’s right. Let her go, John.”
John Cross spoke like a specter from
the end of the grand hall, startling the two. He must have entered through
the rear where there were several doors of ingress. Shay instinctively moved
closer to John Marshall who dropped his arm down around her waist,
protectively.
John
Cross saw that, rolled his eyes, and
came forward and took her hand, pulling her to follow him. “You and I need to
talk.” He nodded to John Marshall.
“Excuse us, man.”
The talk was lively:
“John, listen, I want to tell you
everything.”
“Jesus, how deep do you want to twist the knife, Shay?”
She recoiled. “I don’t. It's only fair that you understand what happened.”
“Jesus, how deep do you want to twist the knife, Shay?”
She recoiled. “I don’t. It's only fair that you understand what happened.”
“Spare me the details. Haven’t
you emasculated me enough?"
“Forget it!” she turned on her heel to leave.
He caught her back, his hand tightening about her wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Back to John Marshall’s bed—if he’ll have me!”
“If he’ll have you,” John Cross snarled. “You know damn well he’d step over my prostrate body to get to you.”
“Forget it!” she turned on her heel to leave.
He caught her back, his hand tightening about her wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Back to John Marshall’s bed—if he’ll have me!”
“If he’ll have you,” John Cross snarled. “You know damn well he’d step over my prostrate body to get to you.”
“I know no such thing!” she flung
back.
“I can’t let you do this to me. To us. Do you realize how many women I
could be screwing right now? I gave them all up for you, Shay. I’ve been
faithful to you like I have no other woman.”
He paused and gave a small shake of his head, continuing with less
temper: “But then I ask myself, how I can slam you for something I’m
guilty of myself—bending to John Marshall’s will. I seldom say no to the guy. How do I expect you to?”
“John—”
“Let me finish. I love you, Shay. I always have. Nothing’s changed for me. I worry that things have changed for you. That you’re ready to trade me in for John Marshall now. He’s been up front with me about wanting you. It would kill me to lose you to him. Am I? Am I losing you to John Marshall?”
“No no no, it’s not like that. I was nothing more than a warm body to John Marshall; convenient, literally within arm’s reach whenever he got the urge.”
“John—”
“Let me finish. I love you, Shay. I always have. Nothing’s changed for me. I worry that things have changed for you. That you’re ready to trade me in for John Marshall now. He’s been up front with me about wanting you. It would kill me to lose you to him. Am I? Am I losing you to John Marshall?”
“No no no, it’s not like that. I was nothing more than a warm body to John Marshall; convenient, literally within arm’s reach whenever he got the urge.”
“Don’t give me that. You mean more to him than that. Don’t let his philandering fool you.”
“No. You don’t understand…it was
just sex. I felt neglected by you and I turned to him because he is an
extension of you. I suspected...I even thought you were having sex with
other women. All the late nights you said you were working. I was
suspicious because you weren't making love to me like I’m accustomed
to. Most of the time it was slam bam
thank you ma’am with no regard to my feelings. You taught me...made me... love sex, to crave it
even, and then you withdrew it from me. And there he was, John
Marshall, ready to step in, willing to give me what you weren’t
giving me anymore. Sex isn't everything but I thought you had stopped
loving me all together. I needed to feel loved. Sex with John Marshall was a
close substitute.”
John Cross let her
finish her diatribe before he bellowed: “I
don’t love you? You think I don’t love you, Shay!”
He released her wrist and jerked his Delta Tau Sigma sweatshirt over his head, baring his marvelously chiseled chest...with a significant change. A raging sublime tattoo!
“I was away having this done.”
“It’s...me!”
He released her wrist and jerked his Delta Tau Sigma sweatshirt over his head, baring his marvelously chiseled chest...with a significant change. A raging sublime tattoo!
“I was away having this done.”
“It’s...me!”
She was bewildered. He hated tattoos and swore he’d never
desecrate his body that way.
“Of course, it’s you!”
“Of course, it’s you!”
“Oh, my,” she
enthralled, extending her hand to gingerly touch the image. The
likeness of her was genius. The Shay
Lyn Forever colors were vibrant and fluid as he flexed his pecs.
“You like it?”
“I love it.” She exchanged her hand on his chest for her tongue—licking the nipple that protruded from the design, making him shudder. “Did it hurt much?"
“Like hell. But you’re worth it, sweetheart. I love you, Shay.”
“As I do you, my love.” Shay dropped to the floor, dragging his sweat pants with her.
“What are you doing?”
“Something special for you in return.”
“That’s not what I want.”
“I’ll try not to bite,” she offered.
“Tempting. Maybe later.”
Shay couldn’t believe John Cross turned down what he’d been coaxing her to do for so long.
“What do you want?” If not the most erotic item on the menu?
“To play doctor...”
“You like it?”
“I love it.” She exchanged her hand on his chest for her tongue—licking the nipple that protruded from the design, making him shudder. “Did it hurt much?"
“Like hell. But you’re worth it, sweetheart. I love you, Shay.”
“As I do you, my love.” Shay dropped to the floor, dragging his sweat pants with her.
“What are you doing?”
“Something special for you in return.”
“That’s not what I want.”
“I’ll try not to bite,” she offered.
“Tempting. Maybe later.”
Shay couldn’t believe John Cross turned down what he’d been coaxing her to do for so long.
“What do you want?” If not the most erotic item on the menu?
“To play doctor...”
Her eyelashes fluttered. They had played doctor once before. “My word...does that mean a complete
physical this time, Dr. Cross?”
“Hmm. With a full body probe, my dear. I took the Hippocratic Oath to be thorough,” he said, taking her hands, bringing her upright and leading her to his bed.
“Hmm. With a full body probe, my dear. I took the Hippocratic Oath to be thorough,” he said, taking her hands, bringing her upright and leading her to his bed.
When she was stretched out naked, and
he was positioning her legs into imaginary stirrups, she teased: “But
doctor, your instruments are so cold."
“Ah, you’d be interested to know, madam, the only instrument I’ll be using this time is my very own tool.”
“Does that mean, gasp, you’ll be taking my temperature with it?”
“For accuracy, I’m afraid it’s unavoidable. Now relax…there might be some discomfort at first…”
When playtime was over, they lay reversed in a slipshod transom knot, Shay Lyn outlining John Cross’ bodacious tattoo with her big toe, commenting: “You know you might be stuck with this ink forever.”
John Cross took her toe in his mouth while he caressed the pad of his foot between her thighs. “That’s the objective, my sweet darling.”
With that, things were back to some normalcy with the three. Her six-month sex rampage with John Marshall was not spoken of, if no way forgotten.
“Ah, you’d be interested to know, madam, the only instrument I’ll be using this time is my very own tool.”
“Does that mean, gasp, you’ll be taking my temperature with it?”
“For accuracy, I’m afraid it’s unavoidable. Now relax…there might be some discomfort at first…”
When playtime was over, they lay reversed in a slipshod transom knot, Shay Lyn outlining John Cross’ bodacious tattoo with her big toe, commenting: “You know you might be stuck with this ink forever.”
John Cross took her toe in his mouth while he caressed the pad of his foot between her thighs. “That’s the objective, my sweet darling.”
With that, things were back to some normalcy with the three. Her six-month sex rampage with John Marshall was not spoken of, if no way forgotten.
For three weeks, other than Foundation
business, John Marshall kept his distance, knowing that Shay had happily
returned with full privileges in John Cross’ bed.
That is, until John Cross fell ill
and made his grand pronouncement.
And then there were three
John Cross “catching flu” was the tactic that finally fulfilled the
Johns’ diktat.
He announced over the intercom that
it was urgent that he meet with them in the Library. The two were in John
Marshall’s office working on ideas for the upcoming May Day Extravaganza. They
set aside their task.
Shay knew John Cross wasn’t feeling
well the past few days and had urged him to see his doctor, but was alarmed to
see an actual hospital mask over his mouth!
“Please don’t tell us you’re dying.”
“Gee, Shay, don’t sic the buzzards to pick my
bones just yet! I’ve been diagnosed with
a virulent strain of the flu. I have meds and I will recover but it’s
absolutely essential that I have bed rest and not contaminate you two. So I am
going to quarantine myself for the duration. Alright? I’ll keep in touch by text and phone. I will
need you two to fetch me food and supplies.” He cleared his throat. “I have a
special request. One I’m sure you’ll honor without question.”
They waited for him to
continue. “Shay, be with John.”
His meaning was crystal clear.
So here it was—her punishment. He
was done with her and turning her out. “Excuse me, John, but I do have a
question. What the hell?”
“I’m fine with it.”
“How can you be fine with it? I’d rather you would not be fine with it.”
She was wrong to deceive him and
with his best friend no less; but to have him sanction it in this way was
offensive. Perverse. Okay, she was being
hypocritical—but still. He
should be angry, wounded even—not hand her over to his rival!
“I’m not blind, Shay. I see the way you two
look at each other. So here’s the chance to tamp down your attraction or feed it.”
“How open-minded and magnanimous you are, John! But I'm confused. You were outraged when you caught us together.”
"I wasn't outraged, Shay. I was stung and disappointed in the two people I love most in the world. Look, sweetheart, I’m only looking out for you. I realize you have needs and –”
"I wasn't outraged, Shay. I was stung and disappointed in the two people I love most in the world. Look, sweetheart, I’m only looking out for you. I realize you have needs and –”
“You’re looking out for John
Marshall!” Shay looked from one John to the other. “I see what’s going on. I am
not a fool. I won’t be handed off like a relay baton!”
Okay.
That did not make sense even to her ears. Had she not been guilty of passing
her own self between them?
John Marshall
was thinking the same thing as he admonished her: "Hush, Shay. If the man says he’s fine with it, we should go with it.”
She crossed her arms over her chest,
defiant. “What if I say nothing-doing?”
Silence. The Johns
exchanged looks.
She had more questions: “So
afterwards, when you’re well, and I’m back in your bed, do John Marshall and I
return to our neutral corners…just like that?”
“Fair question,” John Marshall
assented, arching a brow at John Cross. Ball in your court, pal.
“Answer it, John," Shay insisted. "Whatever game
you’re playing I don’t want to be a pawn in it!”
“I want you back; that goes with saying.”
“What if I don’t come back?”
“You love me. You’ll come back. I’m
not worried about that. If I'm worried about anything, it's keeping you satisfied."
"I'll find a way to satisfy myself."
John Marshall moved to where Shay
stood, tipped her head back and brushed his lips across hers, back and forth,
speaking to her with his eyes: remember
what it was like between us.
“Why go to all that trouble when I'm at your service?" said John Marshall. To John Cross,: he interjected, "Shay has a point, John. You’re
taking a big risk. What if the two of us fall in love?”
Shay gasped at the notion; that John
Marshall would bring up that word among them.
“Shay’s very loveable. That wouldn’t
surprise me at all. But she’s mine. My soul mate. And I fight for what is mine.
You both would do well to remember that fact.”
“Oh yeah? You’re in a curious
position to mete out threats, John,” John Marshall challenged.
Was it her imagination or were the men sharing
some private inside joke; and was John Cross grinning behind his mask?
There was certainly a glint of something in his eyes!
“Let’s make the most of our time
together, Shay,” John Marshall suggested when they were alone. It turns out they had a month. “It was good
between us before. Let’s make that magic
again."
And they did, growing emotionally and physically closer in the process.
And they did, growing emotionally and physically closer in the process.
“You know," Shay shared. "You always make complete
love to me; I never reciprocate.”
“Really? I haven’t noticed anything lacking on your part.”
“I want to suck your nipples. They
are so prominent for a man.”
“My nipples, Shay…and anything else
you’d like to slob down.”
“I’m…I’m not good at that.”
“Says John, right? He lacks the patience to guide you through it.
I’m a whole other animal…”
That
he was.
Even easing her into swallowing.
After gagging a few times, she got the
hang of it.
Moving on.
Yes, they made love at every turn,
in his bed, plus christening ten other beds in the mansion; giving reciprocal
massages; discussing a myriad of subjects and arguing over presidential
politics; laughing a lot, and cuddling—a
new activity for John Marshall.
But there was also another side to
their relationship. She learned he loved poetry. And wanting to show Shay his
romantic side, he read Keats and Shelley to her; even penned her a short romantic
poem, letting her know while peering over his reading glasses: “Not trying to
compete with John Cross’ kick-ass tattoo, you understand.”
They were like kids in a candy shop.
They carried their new found sexual freedom outside into the world at large.
The theatre. The ballet. Clubbing. Dinner and dancing, winning 2nd
place in a Rhumba contest to the History
of Love performed by a live Latin Jazz Combo. They proudly displayed the trophy on the mantel above the
fireplace in the library.
Then one night, he groaned, “I love
you, Shay!” when he climaxed.
“John?” An hour had passed as she
napped in his arms, her body sated, but her heart still raced from his verbal
declaration. Could she take him seriously considering the timing? Maybe the sex
was just extra mind-mushing.
He kissed the top of her head. “Yes, Shay, I
meant it. I love you.”
“I don’t think this whole thing was
a good idea. Look what’s happened.”
“Maybe not. But here we are.”
“Sex is one thing;
but love takes us into deeper waters. It forces us to act on it. What do you
think?”
“You do love me,
don’t you, Shay?”
She didn’t hesitate. “I love you
with a desperation beyond this Earth. I had these feelings all along but I was frightened
of you.”
“You were frightened of this. And how it would affect your
relationship with John Cross.”
“I do love him. So where do we go
from here?”
“Where do you want us to go?”
“I don’t want to give up what we
have. I want to expand on it. I wish I could have you both. How wonderful that
would be!”
“That can be arranged,” he said with
conviction.
She stared at him. “I was joking.”
“I wasn’t.”
“He’d never go for it. Though he
might settle for looking the other way.”
“He’ll have no choice. He took a
risk giving us this freedom; albeit, temporarily. Baby, it would be insane to
believe that we can go back to status quo. He can’t play with our lives. Too
much has happened between us. Just tell John Cross what you want.”
Month followed month. And now it was July.
They were busy planning a Foundation
4th of July picnic when John Cross appeared in John Marshall’s
office looking well.
“Hmm. Busy busy busy, I see.”
“John! What did the doctor say?”
He spread his arms expansively.
“Clean bill of health. I’m no longer contagious.”
“That’s wonderful!” She was tired of
just peaking at him through his door, leaving supplies and scampering away.
He bent over her chair and she
leaned her head backward for his kiss.
“I need to talk to you, Shay.”
She
read between the lines. Talking was the last thing they were going to do after
thirty whole days and nights apart.
Shay looked toward John Marshall and
that seemed to make John Cross angry.
“I’m your man, you don’t need his
permission.”
Shay stood. “That’s not it. He’s my
boss. I’m on the clock until he says otherwise.”
John Marshall came to her rescue: “That’s okay.
You’re free to take the rest of the afternoon off, Shay. John, man, you look
good. Glad you’re back on your feet again.”
Just
tell John Cross what you want.
For the next
twenty-four hours, he would not permit her to talk, only to make love with him
until she was too spent to do anything but rest when he permitted it.
He hugged her to him. “I’m happy to
see John Marshall left something for me.”
“That’s because he expects me to be
with him again; so he wasn’t greedy.”
“What’s that again?”
"Stop it, John. You can't seriously expect us to quit from each other cold turkey."
"That's exactly what I expect."
"Stop it, John. You can't seriously expect us to quit from each other cold turkey."
"That's exactly what I expect."
“Yes, that's a heavy sigh I gave. John and I were thinking more along the lines of a weaning off."
"You and John, huh? Well, I don't like that idea. Might take too long or never. So, no, Shay."
"Then we definitely have to talk. ”
"You and John, huh? Well, I don't like that idea. Might take too long or never. So, no, Shay."
"Then we definitely have to talk. ”
“Talk? Not now. When eating you is so much better.” He slid
down to the confluence of her thighs, thumbed aside her labia, and set up a no-let-up tirade of licking, sucking,
and nibbling.
Oh, yeah, so much better.
Oh, yeah, so much better.
“Shay, baby, I could stay down here all
day and all night.” But he had to come up for air sometime. Air to talk.
They went for a walk in the gardens
later, to stretch their cramped muscles, and
give his tongue a rest, holding hands under a three quarter moon.
“John, about John Marshall and me…”
“Whatever you're about to say, I saw you first. Remember that.”
“You can’t expect things to be the
way they were.”
“You mean the two
of you sneaking behind my back? You’re right.”
“No. I want an open relationship for
the three of us; upfront with everything.”
“I thought by now you would have
worked him out of your system and vice versa.”
“Just the opposite happened.”
“The possibility of that was always
there. I suppose I gambled lost.”
“No one has to lose. We can the
three of us be together.”
“So…time share…like a vacation condo
or something?”
“Equal time with both of you. It’s
what I want.”
“How did it come to this? Damn it, Shay. It was a deferment not an acquisition.”
“And I’m not property to be
negotiated!”
“What the hell, Shay? I plan to
marry you one day.”
“Then I have to be honest and tell
you, I love John Marshall. And he loves me back.”
John Cross grunted. “Really.”
“Really.”
He let that sink in, trying not to appear too smug. Right on schedule. “Still, where does
that leave me? Outside looking in?” he equivocated.
“No! Of course not! I love you both.
Do you understand? I know it’s crazy. But there it is. It’s not about sex
anymore. It’s about love.”
He stopped in his tracks, ran both
his hands through his lovely blond hair that had grown over his ears, giving
him a rakish look. It was always about love even though she didn’t know it.
“Let me think about it.”
“There’s nothing to think about,
John.”
“Hell, I don’t know why I’m fighting
this thing. Do you? I’m not losing anything, right?”
“Not a thing. I’m still yours; only
I’ll be his too, equally. I love you both. You both love me. You guys love each other like brothers. We will commit our selves to making it work. I have no doubts, John. Okay?"
He placed his hands on her
shoulders, bent his head and they kissed on it. “It’s what you want, Shay,
so…that’s what I want too. I guess, given the circumstances and how you and
John feel about each other, I’m grateful I’m still a part of the equation."
"You were never not part of the equation."
"Still, Karma is indeed a bitch.”
"You were never not part of the equation."
"Still, Karma is indeed a bitch.”
“Why do you say that?”
“There’s a reason I want you to keep
in mind that I saw you first.”
“I'm not going to like this, am I?”
He dropped his hands away from her. "Depends."
"On what?" Her exasperation with him was showing.
He dropped his hands away from her. "Depends."
"On what?" Her exasperation with him was showing.
“I might have laid eyes on you first
but John Marshall wanted you first.”
Her brows came together in
confusion. “Wanted me first? How is that possible?”
“In the beginning when you first
came to work for my parents, when I first met you, I showed him some photos of
you with my mom. He freaked out. He just had to meet you! He begged me for an
introduction but I stalled him. I made excuses not to bring him to the house.
His wanting you so badly opened my eyes to an opportunity—I could have you for
myself! I cocked-blocked him. I told him you weren’t into white guys; that I’d
tried with you myself and got shot down. He bought my lies and backed off. But
I could tell he was sorely disappointed.”
“He's never said anything.”
“He's never let me forget it.”
“I won't say anything if you don't want me to."
"It's up to you, Shay."
. We’re all together now so it doesn't matter. But thanks for telling me."
"It's up to you, Shay."
. We’re all together now so it doesn't matter. But thanks for telling me."
It had been a long time coming; but
now—privately, behind closed doors, the Johns could at last celebrate their
victory. They whooped and pumped their fists and drank champagne and congratulated
themselves. It was completely and
totally her decision. This was much
better than their original plan to “force” her into something as farfetched as
a three-way polyandrous relationship.
“So, how does this work? What are
the rules?” Shay asked John Marshall.
“We do what comes
naturally. There are no rules.”
“I mean… do we flip
coins…”
“Nobody’s flipping
any damn coins. Or drawing straws. No rotating schedule. The sex will take care
of its self, depending on our needs.”
“I didn’t know I
had needs until I came to live with
you two. Now I seem to want sex a lot. I think I’ve turned into an addict.”
John laughed,
giving her a quick smooch. “No such thing. You have a healthy sexual appetite
that John and I through our own sexual needs have exploited. In a sense, we
created you. And if I may be crude, between the two of us horny guys, you’ll
never want for dick.”
She thought on that. “I don’t know
whether it’s proper to ask….”
“Ask anything you
want, sweetheart.”
“I mean we never
talked about it…but…when John found us in your bed…he took me …with you asleep
right there. Did he tell you that?"
It was all a part of the Johns’ grand design; not to humiliate her but to manage her.
To keep her subjugated. John Marshall
answered: “Yeah, he told me. He was a bit upset and was on a power trip.”
“Well…will we…I
mean will the two of you—” she stopped, searching for the right way to phrase
it.
“Make love to you at the same time? Don’t be
shy to ask, sweetheart. The simple answer is: it’s your call. John and I won’t
have a problem with it.”
“Have you ever…the
two of you…with the same woman…?”
“No, Shay. It would
be a learning experience for the three of us.”
“That surprises me.
I thought you two were pretty randy in college.”
“We had our fun.
But we missed the boat on that one.”
It was a Sunday morning and she was lying in his arms, her head on his chest, her fingers laced with his, feeling ultra-content.
It was a Sunday morning and she was lying in his arms, her head on his chest, her fingers laced with his, feeling ultra-content.
“Just say the word,
and John and I will be on you like white on…what? Rye? Wheat?” John Marshall kissed Shay’s fingertips. “Look
at that,” he said, turning their clasped hands this way and that. “How
beautiful our skins are together, brown and ivory. I think I’ll have a mirror
installed in the ceiling so we can watch the contrast of our skins slide
together as we make love.”
“We would make a beautiful baby.”
“We would make a beautiful baby.”
“John and I were just saying the
same thing.”
“You’ve talked about it?”
“Does that surprise you? This is not exclusively physical, Shay. We
want to build a family with you. I hope you know that. And we don’t care
whether the biological father is him or me. Of course, when you get pregnant,
one of us will marry you.”
“Which one of you?”
“I don’t know. We might well have to
draw straws on that one.”
“At some point there would have to
be paternal testing. It will matter to the child who his biological father is.
It’s his birthright,” she suggested.
“So…when she’s eighteen…we’ll do the
test. We’ll all find out together. Right
now, all I want to do is make a baby with you, Shay.”
“That’s the most romantic thing you
could ever say to me. Only one other thing would make me deliriously happy.”
“I’m listening.”
“You stop sleeping with other
women.”
“If you’d care to notice, keeping
you lubed and oiled has been a full time undertaking. I haven’t had the luxury
of time for extracurricular sex.
Baby, you sap me,” he joked, arranging her over his pelvis and reconnecting
their bodies. Shay mewed as she always did when he entered her, so maddeningly
gradual and frictional, she could come on the spot!
“No! Stop! I’m not ready!” she
squealed.
He halted mid-way and she leaned
forward, pushing a nipple past his lips, and he came up on his elbows to latch
on like a sump pump. Oh yeah, that. “Now
I’m ready.”
“Tease.”
She hadn’t been on top since Debbie Does Dallas.
“I understand that the woman on top is an
excellent baby-making position,” remarked John Marshall, toggling between
nipples as they ballooned in his mouth.
The Johns were
unapologetically lusty and they were triumphant in creating a partner of equal
zeal in Shay Lyn. And if Janae's prediction that the Johns would turn her into their 'homegrown slut' then so be it. She was happier than she'd ever been.
Their three hearts were destined as one forever, if fortune smiled upon them and forever had no timeline.
Their three hearts were destined as one forever, if fortune smiled upon them and forever had no timeline.
For outside eyes,
John Howard Cross and Shay Lyn DeBurgo were the couple; but inside the private
walls of the mansion, no such line of demarcation existed. They fell into an
unscripted routine. A tacit understanding, if you will. She crisscrossed
suites, giving her love unstintingly. Of the two, John Marshall was the most
bold and demanding. If she was asleep in John Cross’ bed, and John Marshall
wanted her, he would take her, make love to her, and deliver her back to John
Cross.
Paramount to the
synchronicity of the lovers was the absence of jealousy. Having concocted the
plan themselves, the Johns had conquered that emotion in advance. They were true partners in crime wanting the
same thing, the same woman. For that, they would compromise.
Besides, they three were one, their
destinies intertwined.
And Shay had more semen uploaded to
her uterus than any other ovulating female could ever hope for.
So what was the problem?
She was bound to get pregnant with
two men providing abundant sperm. Right?
Shay had no dearth of attention. The
Johns attempt to get her pregnant was almost a tag-team effort. That’s what she
wanted. That’s what they wanted. It was indeed part of their plan, after all.
To be a family.
More time passed. Shay’s ova
remained unspawned.
Shay stayed busy with Foundation
work; the Johns had their squash games; and they were avid joggers, often
participating in charity long-distance running events.
Essential to their relationship was
spending time together outside the mansion and so they established date night
whereby the three would go out on the town and have fun together. They simply
enjoyed one another’s company more than anyone else’s.
If there was one glitch in their well-honed union, it was this: John
Marshall continued, for cause, as he termed it-- to date other women. And sleep with them. That
just about killed Shay though he reassured her the women…the sex…meant nothing
to him. And in fact—he let her know—he got sick to the stomach after bedding a
woman and afterward, immediately sought solace in Shay’s body to feel whole
again. That accounted for John Marshall’s midnight raids when she was asleep in
John Cross’ bed.
He was having guilt sex with her!
“Oh, goody—at least
I’m good for something!”
“Damn it, Shay. I’m
doing it for you…us!”
“Oh really? That’s new. Screwing
other woman for me! Let me think about that. No!”
“Yes, damn it!”
“Then why do I feel stabbed in the
heart?”
“I’m sorry, baby. People are
talking. I have to keep up appearances, you know that.”
Because there was talk.
They all knew it.
The Johns three-on-a-date nights
with Shay had not gone unnoticed. There was a cloaked item on the society page
about them. Somebody had witnessed their
kiss under the mistletoe and reported it.
If they showed up together at other functions that were not
Foundation-affiliated or even danced together, there was sure to be comment.
There was open speculation in the local tabloids. Gossip had been spreading
like swine flu throughout Houston social circles.
A publicity shot of their heads
together making plans for upcoming events carried in the Houstonia and other Houston pages with such captions as: Is there more here than meets the eye? Even
John Marshall’s ex-wife had called and ragged him about it. Their supposed
unconventional life-style was called into question and put under a microscope.
After the discrimination suit fiasco, the Foundation could not afford another
scandal.
The shit was destined to hit the fan
sooner or later, though. John Marshall’s
and Shay’s first fight post their arrangement was about Shay discovering
another woman in his bed. He had never brought a woman home to his bed, not to
her knowledge, not since they were a trio.
After the woman was dispatched, Shay confronted a remorseful John in the
Library.
“I won’t have it!” she cried. “You’ve got to
stop! What if you catch a disease from
one of these women or get one pregnant or, God forbid, fall for her!”
“If any woman gets pregnant with my sperm, it
will be you. Other women—I rubber up.
You know that. Every time. So
will you please tone down the Carmen
Jones theatrics?”
John Marshall sat uncomfortably in
his chair, which was a veritable hot seat, while Shay circled in an arc around
it.
“I won’t calm down! I endured that
…that widow Gloria Hicks trying to make a third husband out of you! And now Joyce Ruthers! She’s attractive. Do you love her?” Shay demanded, tearfully.
“Joyce Ruthers? No, I don’t freakin’ love her. You know I
love you. The gossip was seeping into
the Foundation’s core. Yes, I bedded one of the board members to keep her quiet. The only way I could finish the act was to
envision her as you. She insisted on doing
it in my bed because she wanted you
to know. She’s jealous of you and she’s
got the biggest mouth of all.”
“Big enough to accommodate your
penis, I saw!”
“Look, Shay. I have my reputation as
a playboy to keep alive. Playing the field is what I did before you. It’s expected of me.”
“Well, I wish you weren’t such a…a
sex fanatic!”
They were just words borne out of
frustration. How little did she know it was true!
“Can’t I be enough for you?” she
cried.
“If I suddenly started living like a
monk—it would throw gasoline on a fire that’s already raging.”
“You said you loved me!”
“I do love you! I love you to death.”
“I don’t believe you! I think we
should break up our cozy little threesome. It’s not working for me.”
“Shay, don’t even think it! You’re
scaring me. John, man—can I get an assist here?” John Marshall beseeched John
Cross, the cooler head in the room, who leaned indolently against a desk, arms
and ankles crossed, looking on, mildly amused.
“Hey—I’m not the one sticking my
pecker where it doesn’t belong.”
Shay sniffed. “I was on my period
early and I came to you.” John Marshall
craved her that way because she was hard to satisfy, and that was all the more
gratifying for him. He kept a calendar of her cycle for just that purpose. “I wanted
to surprise you but I got surprised instead. You’re lucky I got out of there
and didn’t make a scene.”
Wiping at her frustrated tears, she
threatened: “How would you like it if I sleep with Leonard Jackson when I go
home to Atlanta next week?”
“Who the hell is Leonard Jackson?”
“A former suitor,” John Cross
supplied.
“I’d put a bullet between his eyes,
that’s how I’d like it. I can’t bear that you’re this upset with me. I won’t
have another woman in my bed again. Promise. We’ll figure out something else.”
“We can start by burning your
mattress! Well, at least the sheets!” she huffed.
“As you wish, baby,” he relented,
making a show of wiping his brow. “Now
come here, give me some brown sugar.”
John Cross’ hand on Shay’s arm
stayed her momentarily from delivering that brown sugar.
“I got it—what will settle this
whole thing and put a stop to the rumors! Shay and I will simply get
engaged. I don’t see any reason why we
should wait until she gets pregnant to get married. How about it?
Shay, will you marry me?”
Shay didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I’ll
marry you. I’ve always wanted to marry you. You know that.”
John Cross pulled her to him and kissed her
soundly and they fell to laughing with joy.
He swirled her around, giddy with excitement. They started making plans right then and
there.
“Hey! I’m still in the room,” John
Marshall groused.
“Oh. Do we have
your blessing, John?” John Cross asked.
“Only if I can cuckold the husband
and his bride spends her wedding night in my
bed.”
“We wouldn’t have it any other way,
would we, Shay?”
Next day they placed an announcement
in the papers with a photo of the happy couple in a sweet embrace, looking into
each other’s eyes. Doubtless, they were a couple crazy in love.
Soon after in mid-October, Shay left
for her trip to Atlanta for visits with her mother at Peach Wood and good
friend Janae Ware. Leonard Jackson was an idle threat. She didn’t see him. She
didn’t intend to see him. Janae heard he got married.
Janae was happy Shay was engaged to
the love of her life John Cross and oohed
and aahed over her 5-carat diamond.
And yes, she’d be happy to be her maid-of-honor.
“So? How is the other John taking
it? Wasn’t he carrying a torch for you?”
Shay kept her true relationship
status with the Johns a secret from Janae. She wouldn’t understand. Who
would? Shay left it at: “He gave us his
blessing and will be best man at the wedding.”
Enter Kevvin Marshall-Bey the III
Halloween, 2016
“Ah, the lovely ShayDeBurgo, the woman I’ve been hearing so much about,”
greeted KevvinMarshall-Bey, taking her hand in his after his brother introduced
them.
“Now let me see…you plan my
brother’s wing dings, right?”
“Actually, my official title is
Executive Assistant to the President.”
“And your un-official title…”
Shay realized their palms were
generating heat and pulled hers away, flicking her eyes to John who shook his
head imperceptive.
“Kevin. At last we
meet.”
“Kevvin, double v—for future
reference.”
“I’ll have to keep that in my head
when I say it. That’s unusual.”
“I’m unusual.”
Okay.
“You’re a third…which means…”
“It’s bogus. I took creative
license. Gives power to my name, don’t you think? My mother’s grandfather, Kevvin
Marshall, a Norwegian…I’m named for him.”
Kevvin’s portrait hung in the
grand hall with John’s, their parents, grandparents, and various ancestors—all
first names initialized. So Shay had no idea of the specialized nature of his
name. Names are personal things. Owners like for people to get it right. It
irritated her when extra letters were arbitrarily added on to her name. Shaye Lynn DeBurgot.
“You’re actually John’s twin
brother.” That fact she did know.
“Fraternal,” Kevvin said. “He got the looks; I got the smarts.”
“Fraternal,” Kevvin said. “He got the looks; I got the smarts.”
Actually, they did not look unalike. If John Marshall was the handsome vampire; then his
brother was the handsome devil.
What was the term? Identical misidenticals?
He had John’s olive coloring and
height; a slender face with strong features all his own and a smirk that
doubled for a smile. While his brother’s eyes were chocolate cream, Kevvin’s
was a startling sapphire blue that nailed you on the spot. He had a reputation
in the rags of being a bad boy. Women
were obviously drawn to his heart-breaker looks; but he didn’t seem to be the
sort that you’d enter into a business deal with unless you wanted a dagger in
your back later! Some people just looked that way: shoddy and unctuous. Didn’t mean anything. Bad acts did.
Perhaps, she shouldn’t jump to conclusions about Kevvin Marshall-Bey
III.
Who was she kidding? He had
bad-to-the-bone written all over him!
You see characters in movies and you
know right off that they’re trouble with a capital T; but the people
surrounding them, don’t have a clue. And you wonder: why can’t the victims see
the same thing you are seeing? Kevvin struck her as such an inscrutable
character.
“So, who have I managed to impress?”
Shay asked, giving him her most charming smile.
“Who haven’t you? Particularly, John’s
ex-wife, Landra Hollingsworth.”
Landra
Hollingsworth. The name sounded
familiar but did not ring a specific bell. John Marshall never talked about his
ex.
Again, she looked to John who had
the guilty-dog look. “I don’t think I’ve
had the pleasure. Have I?”
John spoke then, saying: “She was at
the Christmas party, Shay.”
“Was she? I don’t recall making her
acquaintance. Why is that, John?” Shay blinked at him, innocently.
“I’m pretty sure I introduced you,”
he explained for Kevvin’s ears primarily. “She’s a volunteer, working out of
the Kingwood section.”
“Oh. Her name must have been on the
list I prepared for the plaques. That’s how I know her name. I still don’t
remember meeting her but then again I greeted a fair amount of people.”
Without the caveat of ex-wife, Shay
thought, moving to John’s side, Shay would be kept in the dark. Maybe that was his intent as his ex-wife was
a taboo subject according to John Cross. “Maybe it was her last name that threw
me off. I would have recalled meeting John’s ex-wife.”
Well!
She was certainly going to look up Ms Landra Hollingsworth on the internet
first chance she got!
“She’s
certainly fascinated by you.” Kevvin’s shrewd blue eyes glommed onto her
ring: “I hear that congratulations are in order. You and John Cross….” He let
the statement hang out there. No one
pursued it.
“Thank you. We’re very happy. Well,
it’s nice to meet you, Kevvin with two
Vs. Please excuse me. I have an errand to run. See you at dinner? Tonight’s
Italian.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” he said
to her as she departed; to John he said: “Sweet…I
know you’re hitting that…say you’re hitting that, brother, and make me
proud. Is John Cross aware of what’s
going on between you two? Right. I bet he is.”
“Shut your damn mouth about Shay.”
“Ah, I seem to have hit a nerve,
huh, bro. So, that’s John Cross’ little virgin all grown up. I remember us sitting
around talking about how the two of you would share her—before John Cross went
and chickened out. I always felt left
out because I wanted in on it too. And
wasn’t there a certain manifesto floating about? So, has the new experiment
begun? Shay doesn’t realize she’s your sex slave, does she? No, because you’ve
wrapped it in tenderness and love and tied it in pink ribbon.”
“The manifesto was the immature
ramblings of two horny college kids. You were there! You know it for what it
was. I grew up. You should try it some time.”
“You’ve got a pretty cushy deal
going on. You get to bang your gorgeous ex-wife and Miss Dark-and-Lovely at the
same time.”
“What the hell do you want, Kevvin?
Why are you here exactly? Have you run through your inheritance already?”
“I don’t need any handouts from you,
John. I have just as much right to be here as you have. I was born and raised
in this house, same as you.” You fought in probate court and you lost. How can you show your face here after the
damage you tried to do to the Foundation?”
“The damage I did? That flimsy-ass bias
dustup … a black daycare not getting funds because they were reallocated to a
white dance school? Wonder who the whistleblower was on that?”
“Who else could it have been but you?”
“Who indeed? Take your blinders off, man.”
“Oh, I think I’m looking at the
right person.”
“You can’t prove a damn thing.
Besides, you came out of it smelling like a rose. A hero,” Kevvin said. “So
what’s your beef?”
“I repeat: why are you here? What is
it that you want?”
Kevvin plopped down in one of the
Queen Ann chairs. “My last independent bombed at Cannes.”
“I heard.”
“Yeah, the whole world heard. I need to get back in the saddle. I need some financial backing for this beauty
of a project—”
“No.”
Kevvin’s look was sour.
“I just need to buy North American
rights.”
“I can’t help you.”
“It’s a business deal. A mil. That’s
a drop in the bucket to you.”
John Marshall cast his twin a hard
stare. “Not one red cent. And furthermore, considering the last time you were
here and the chaos you caused, frankly I’m nervous to have you on the premises.
You can stay the night, but I want you gone by the time I get back from the
board meeting tomorrow. Understand, brother?”
Kevvin came to his feet, his hands
curled into fists. “You will regret this.”
He stalked out, getting as far as
the landing before called back by John.
“Kevvin! Wait...come back…let’s
talk. Perhaps we can work out something to our mutual benefit”
Six weeks later. Cross-Bennett Nissan
Dealership
John Cross looked up from paperwork and through the blinds saw Shay Lyn
at the receptionist desk talking to Mindy.
Other than an open-house event she attended in which he had introduced
her to staff last November; she had never dropped in on him at work.
Some employees now surrounded her,
congratulating and admiring her engagement ring. He hurtled out of his chair
and headed out to the showroom.
“Shay, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms about her waist, kissed
her, to the applause of spectators.
Arm-in-arm, they headed for his office.
He closed the blinds and she sat down.
He leaned against his desk. “This is a surprise. What brings you
downtown, sweetheart?” He glanced at his watch. “I’d take you to lunch but—”
“I needed to see you before you got
home. I don’t want John Marshall anywhere near when I tell you this.”
“Tell me what? You’re scaring me.”
“I had an appointment with my OBGYN. I’m pregnant!”
It took a moment for this news to sink in.
“Shay, that’s wonderful! That’s great! Oh Baby, I’m thrilled! This means we can
move up the date of our wedding.” He
pulled her close to stand between his legs. “I’m going to be a father.” They
kissed. “But why don’t you want John Marshall to know? He’d be elated as well.”
“I doubt it.”
John Cross frowned. “Baby, you know we don’t
care who the biological father is.”
“Even if it’s John Marshall’s
brother?”
“What? Wait. What?”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “He
tricked me into having sex with him…I thought he was John Marshall.”
“What the hell? How for God’s sake?”
The words tumbled from her mouth. “I
know it sounds implausible. But it happened.
Six weeks ago, the day he was supposed to catch a flight back to Paris.
You and John left after breakfast. I was loading the dishwasher and he was just
hanging out, killing time, drinking coffee and telling me about his next movie
project. He was quite pleasant to talk to. He gave no indication of what he was
about to do. I wished him a safe trip,
and excused myself to return to my suite.
“Then…well, it happened rather
quickly. I was in the shower, lathering shampoo in my hair, and suds got in my
eyes—that’s my only defense, that I didn’t open my eyes wide enough…I felt a
presence in the shower with me and I logically assumed it was John—being his
loving self—that his meeting had been cancelled, which sometimes happens.”
Rape by Deception, a
crime
He went down on her first thing, sniffing her and chewing her
clit. That was new and quite enjoyable. She squinted down at his dark head, her
hands gripped in his hair, pressing him closer and closer in…until she climaxed
on his tongue. “John,” she wailed. He lifted her then, and balancing her
between the ceramic wall and his pelvis, he jabbed into her and kept jabbing
until the opening stretched and he bounced off the mouth of her womb. For some
reason, she felt unusually overfilled…but her body took care of that…drenching
and obliging him. Her arms went up around his neck. His mouth sought her
breasts and her body pulsed around him feverishly, her heels dug in the back of
his thighs. Her vagina was a live animal, squeezing him as she felt his
desperation and matched it. And it was so fucking wonderful to her…to him too,
because he groaned God’s name as if surprised and double-timed his thrusts to
bring them to a sudden startling finish. All the time, she kept her eyes
closed, thrilling to him as the water from the rain shower head beat down on
their skins. When they came, they sought each other’s mouths in a blistering
kiss which went on and on, practically lasting the duration of their aftermath.
God, she loved him so.
“I wish I could take you with me to
Paris.”
Shay opened her eyes into the sapphire
blue of Kevvin Marshall-Bey’s. Oh, Oh,
Oh, Oh, Oh—NoNoNoNoNo No, damn it! She was too shocked to move a muscle.
“Your pussy is incredible, baby. You
know I can still feel it sucking me. Milking me. The best piece I’ve had in a
long time,” he boasted. “So this is what drives the Johns to distraction? I get
it.”
“I’m not a piece,” she cried. “And
this is a mean dirty trick to pull.” Tears gathered like a waterfall behind her
lids.
He shrugged. “We both were coming out of our skins; so what’s the
fuss?”
“I thought you were John!”
“Which one?”
“You’re a bastard,” she wept. She
wanted to slap his face but realized she was pinned against the tiled partition
and therefore could not draw back her hand so she let her arms fall to her
sides.
“You can tell my brother that I’ve
served my turn on him.”
“You’re trying to hurt your brother
thru me? Why would he care?”
“If he’s screwing John Cross’ woman
then he has feelings for her. John Cross loves you. John Cross loves my
brother. My brother loves John Cross and therefore my brother loves you. Simple
relationship dynamic. I think it is called conversion. Those two couldn’t be
any closer if they were homosexual lovers. Believe me; I used to think they
were. But no, they love female tail,” he said. “Like I do.”
Only semi-soft, because of a
persistent arousal fluke, he pulled out, and she regained her footing.
“Why are you trying to hurt me?”
“Actually, I like you. But I had to do
this. My plan was to force you to have sex with me but what I got was a
pleasant surprise and worked out so much better. I suck at rape. I wish I could
say, it’s only sex but it’s not. It’s so much more. A billion-dollar-trust-fund
more. I overheard the Johns talking about getting you pregnant. And I don’t
believe their motives are pure, sweetheart. They’d never admit it; but
they want the money. Now they can add my semen to the gene pool. May the
best sperm win.”
“Go find your own baby mama’s womb,
you imbecile!”
“Imbecile? But Shay, I like your
womb.” He placed his hand where her uterus was. “I’ll return when the little
angel is born. I have plans for her or him...and the mother too. Maybe by then
I can convince you to ditch the loser Johns.” With that he left the shower
and Shay slid down to the floor. The shower is a good place to cry when you
have to cry long and hard and bitter tears.
Soon Kevvin was sauntering back in the
bathroom, this time fully clothed in a tan suit, sans tie, the collar of his
white shirt open at the throat. A villain masquerading as a gorgeous, competent
man. He held up a folder as he stooped down to her level and took her chin in
his hand. “Dry those tears, beautiful. Here. A gift for you. After you read it,
ask yourself—are you true love or a magnificent obsession of my brother
and John Cross? Sorry to frost over your rose-colored glasses. You can thank me
later.”
“They’re right to call you a brilliant
slime ball in the media!”
“They’re too kind.”
“How can someone be so good-looking,
yet so evil.”
He smirked. “Gifted, I guess.” Then he stood
and turned on his heel.
*********************************
Part of this she related to John
Cross, leaving out the more salacious details.
“Motherfuck! Son-of-bitch!” John Cross moved away from her and paced the confined
space. He balled up his fists. “I’ll kill him if I get to him before John
Marshall does!”
“John Marshall can’t know. I thought about the morning after pill; but
you and I had sex the night before so I could already be pregnant with your
child or John Marshall’s child. I
couldn’t take that risk.”
“I’m glad you didn’t, Shay.”
Shay went in her bag and withdrew a
thin clasp folder and handed it to him. “So—what I read in your plan, is it
true, John? You set me up. You manipulated me...so you two could share me.
Sexually...and every other kind of way.”
“To be a family, Shay.”
“So everything was a lie.”
“Not everything.”
“You faked premature ejaculation?”
“All feigned.”
“God, I felt so guilty betraying you
and it’s what you wanted from the start—to share me with John Marshall. John’s
Barbie Doll meltdown in Paris—faked?”
“A ruse to get you in his bed.”
“You never had the flu.”
“It was a plot point—again to put
you in John Marshall’s orbit.”
“Was any of it real?”
“Our love for you. Our deep, deep
love and desire for you. You’ve got to believe that.”
“Oh I do. You went to great
lengths…but still you could have failed.”
“But we didn’t.”
“All that happened with the three of
us I thought grew out of a natural progression of this great love we have for
each other.”
“And it did!”
“Maybe. But it was created and
nurtured on the backbone of trickery and manipulations.”
“Not everything. Baby, we’re
committed to you. To our relationship.”
“Am I a total fool to love you? To
love the both of you?”
“Don’t even think that way.”
“Don’t worry, John. I’m not going
anywhere. Quite the contrary. I love you too much. I love what we three have
together. It’s perfect. And now there’s a baby. We’re in this
together. I’m not bailing.”
John Cross visibly relaxed. He
wanted to go down on his knees and kiss her feet. “You were right to come to
me…to tell me what happened.”
“At first I wasn’t. I was all set to
keep this horrible secret what Kevvin did to me. I didn't want trouble and I
felt guilty for my part in it. I tossed it to the back of my mind. But the baby
puts everything about Kevvin into perspective.
We have to protect the baby from him…from exploiting this baby for
money.”
John Cross said: “John Marshall
explained it to me once. The first Marshall-Bey sire gets a billion dollars.
And must be born after the twins are twenty-five. They wanted them mature
enough to handle that much money. The twins’ offspring get a stipend at sixteen
and the bulk at eighteen. The probability that this baby is Kevvin’s, you’re
right—John Marshall cannot know. They hate each other. Their parents screwed
with their minds from the day they were born, pitting one against the other,
making them compete for everything, including their inheritance. I’m the
brother John Marshall never had.”
“Mathematically, the probability the
baby is Kevvin’s is high. I’ve thought about it and thought about it. Almost a
year of having unprotected sex, with two
potential fathers, and I didn’t get pregnant. Then Kevvin violates me and
suddenly I’m pregnant. I’m scared. If he finds out I’m pregnant, he’ll
insist the baby is his and cause trouble for us. He told me he
would.”
“I’m stumped. I never figured Kev
for a rapist. And I’ve known him as long as I have
John. He was never the aggressor with women. He
didn’t have to be. They clamored for him. He’d sit back and let them do all the
work. His looks, his charms—he never had to lift a finger.”
“Obviously, good ol’ Kev changed
over the years while you weren’t looking!”
John Cross searched Shay’s lovely
face. “You must have really turned him on.”
“How can you say that? Now, it’s my
fault…I enticed him? Is that what John Marshall will think as well?”
“No!” John Cross exploded. “That’s
not what I mean at all, Shay. You don’t know the power of your vivacity…your
sexual energy. You must have been more temptation than he could resist.”
“Now I’m a temptress! I didn’t
expect this…not from you, John!”
You wore your robe to breakfast…”
“We all wore our robes. So?”
“You were naked beneath yours.”
“He didn’t know that!”
“He has an imagination, Shay.”
“Oh, my God…so I asked for it?”
“Stop twisting my words, Shay. You
didn’t lead him on, for heavens sake! I know that! Look, Kevvin’s totally
responsible for his actions. I promise, I won’t let him near you again or our
baby. But for now—please, let’s keep
this just between us. We’ll share the news about your pregnancy with John
Marshall and let it go at that. Hopefully we’ll never hear from or see Kevvin
ever again. He’d be wise not to show his face after what he did to you.”
Shay Lyn was sleeping in John
Marshall’s bed tonight. The three had gone out to dinner to celebrate the
wonderful news of Shay’s pregnancy. When they walked through the double doors
of the manor that opened into the grand hall, John Cross kissed her good night,
relinquishing her to John Marshall who took her hand and led her to his suite.
Shay had agreed not to divulge what
she knew about the manifesto to John Marshall.
“Happy?” he asked her.
“I am so happy about the baby, I’m
beside myself.”
“Just checking. You seemed a little
morose tonight.”
“It’s uncanny how you pick up on my
moods.”
“That’s because I am in tuned to
everything that is you, Shay.”
“God, I am so in love with you,” she
told him.
“I’m in love with you too, Shay,” he
said, his hand on her stomach as she leaned back against the bed pillows. “So
tell me, baby, what has you sad at heart.”
“Your ex-wife. Even though I’m
marrying John Cross, if you went back to your ex-wife, it would devastate me.”
“My ex-wife? Why do you mention her? Tell me you are not
jealous of Landra.”
“I’m blind with jealousy. I looked
her up on the internet. We couldn’t be more different. She’s this beautiful blonde, vivacious woman,
tall and elegant. A lawyer.”
“You’re
beautiful and vivacious and effervescent, and you’ve got a body that throws
me off my equilibrium. I get aroused watching you walk away. I get aroused
watching you come into view. Your mind arouses me. I think about you 24-7. When you’re with John, I want you with me,
but I know I must curb my appetites if our relationship is going to work.”
“But she’s your type!”
“My type? I didn’t know I had a type.”
“I can so see you two
together.”
“Shay—”
“She was at the Christmas party but
you didn’t introduce us. I’m sure of it!” Shay tried another tactic. “I
remember her! But I was too busy to pay
her any attention.”
“You’re absolutely right. But baby,
I was trying to get next to you that night. I wasn’t going to spoil what chance
I had by rubbing her in your face.”
“What’s your relationship with her
now, exactly? And don’t lie to me, John.”
“Here’s the truth—we’re…friendly and
before your mind goes wonky—friendly does not extend to sleeping with her.
Believe me, it took a lot of forgiveness on my part. But she was remorseful and
I decided to let bygones be bygones. Landra was a victim as much as I was.” He glanced about the room at nothing in
particular.
“Forgave her for what? What did she
do?”
He paused then, his eyes making
contact again with hers. “She had an affair with my brother, Kevvin.”
Shay’s eyes rounded. Oh no!
Her heart squeezed. She could never tell him about Kevvin now. Would
John Marshall believe that his brother duped her? It would be Kevvin’s word against hers. She
knew how his story would go. John Marshall must take her side! Of course, he would because he loves her! Kevvin
was a loathsome reprobate.
“He didn’t really want her; his
interest was heightened because she was my wife and he wanted whatever I had.
Sibling rivalry 101. So he fed her a bunch of lies about me and other women.
She fell into his trap, and subsequently filed for divorce. When she wasn’t my
wife anymore, he deserted her. Sweetheart, she’s to be pitied not envied.”
Shay threw her arms about his neck.
“I want to be your wife; I want to marry you; marry the both of you.”
“I’d like that too; however, my
darling, bigamy is a crime in the state of Texas,” he told her. “I’m content
with you marrying John. After all, you knew him first.”
“John was my first love. But he
deceived me. I never fell in love again after him, until you.”
“And you had no other lovers…”
She shook her head. “I swear…until
you.”
“But how did you manage to stay
celibate for so long? Men must have been clamoring for you.”
“For one thing, I took myself out of
contention: I joined the Peace Corps for six years. After that I earned a
masters degree. Got interested in yoga; and Janae and I dedicated ourselves to
building our yoga business. I did date this one guy Leonard Jackson, my
banker, for a long while but he gave up on me and looked elsewhere.”
“Peace Corps. Six years. I forgot
about that. It was on your CV. I was impressed. You have to tell me about your
experiences sometime.”
John Marshall gave her a tender
kiss.
“I’m glad John and I are your only
lovers,” he said which made her groan inwardly, thinking of Kevvin. The sex had
been extraordinarily good with Kevvin only because in her mind he was John
Marshall and all that was John Marshall. Even his smell.
She put her fingers to his lips.
“But let that be our secret. I don’t want to lose his respect.”
“How’s that?”
“He believes I moved on from him
back then…with other men. If he knew that I had these lugubrious longings for
him, he wouldn’t respect me. He respects that I had the strength of character
to put our relationship behind me just as he did. But I didn’t. I couldn’t let
another man touch me. Pathetic, right?”
“I don’t think he’d hold it against
you that you loved him so much that you remained faithful to the memory of that
love. I know I wouldn’t.”
“You’re different. Your ego would
celebrate that I pined for you. But John Cross would think me a pitiable fool.
For him, there were many other women. Marriage. Engagements. He shouldn’t be
made to feel guilty about it. This way, we are equal. Promise me, John.”
John sighed. “Okay. But I don’t
understand it. The man’s crazy about you. I don’t think he’d care one way or
the other. Your pregnancy means a swift marriage. And he wants to marry you in
the worse way. He’s over the moon about that.”
“I know. However…however, I’m having
second thoughts. I don’t want to lose you. If I marry John, I’m afraid you’ll
disappear. If I marry you, I know John Cross will never leave me. Why is that?
Explain that to me.”
John Marshall-Bey was uneasy with
this conversation. He had to set Shay’s mind straight. If she started
floundering now, John Cross would be devastated. As much as John Marshall loved
Shay, he couldn’t let her hurt John Cross. Rather she hurt him, than John Cross. His best friend was paying a supreme price to
bring them together.
And yes, it hurt that he could not claim her
legally his. He was human. A bit of envy was allowed. There was nothing for it
but to be content with the same benefits as a husband, he repeatedly told
himself. To that end, he tried to bury his misery in her loving arms as much as
he could to compensate. Of course, they must never know his true, selfish
feelings.
“John, I have a confession to make. I can no longer contain it; it’s burdening my heart.”
“Shay—”
“You know what I’m going to say, don’t you? You don’t want my words hanging out in the ozone because then you’ll have to deal with it, you and John. But here it is: My love for you is deeper; there’s no other way to say it. I love John. I do. But I’m desperately in love with you. And that forces me to put my true feelings for John Cross into perspective—my first love who hurt me and compromised me to his best friend. Only it backfired on him…and on you.”
“I was hoping this would not happen. He can’t lose you to me. It’ll destroy him and he didn’t sign up for this. It was me—in the very beginning, I wanted you and I forced the situation.”
“John, I have a confession to make. I can no longer contain it; it’s burdening my heart.”
“Shay—”
“You know what I’m going to say, don’t you? You don’t want my words hanging out in the ozone because then you’ll have to deal with it, you and John. But here it is: My love for you is deeper; there’s no other way to say it. I love John. I do. But I’m desperately in love with you. And that forces me to put my true feelings for John Cross into perspective—my first love who hurt me and compromised me to his best friend. Only it backfired on him…and on you.”
“I was hoping this would not happen. He can’t lose you to me. It’ll destroy him and he didn’t sign up for this. It was me—in the very beginning, I wanted you and I forced the situation.”
“And he loaned me to you, like I was property.”
“No. He hoped by doing so, we’d burn
out.”
“Well, we didn’t.”
“And eventually, he realized that
and agreed to share you rather than lose you altogether. Shay, the guy’s crazy
about you. He can’t wait to marry you.”
“I know. But it’s not enough for me. I want to be your wife before I’m his wife.”
“I know. But it’s not enough for me. I want to be your wife before I’m his wife.”
“And you know you’re splitting: something we agreed not to
do.”
Was
she? Was she making him choose sides?
He forced her hand. She played her
trump card. “John—I’m aware of your written college manifesto. I’m not going to tell you how, so don’t ask me.”
Startled silence.
“Shit.” His eyes contemplated the
ceiling before engaging her eyes again. They were misty and he couldn’t tell
what she was thinking. “Shay, those were ramblings of two horny fraternity
guys.”
She smiled. “Long before I was a
gleam in your horny eyes? For a fantasy, it’s not half bad. Two males, one
female—if you’re into that sort of thing. And there’s no denying you are
because, hey—here I am—smack dab in the middle of you two.”
“You’re not upset.” He looked
relieved.
“Hmm, you know I thought I should
be…” she shrugged “…but in the end I couldn’t muster up the energy. John Cross
knows I know.”
“Shay, sweetheart—”
She covered his mouth with her palm and he
licked it. “Aap! I don’t want to hear it. The subject is closed forever. I love
you. I love John. Now are you going to marry me?”
“Shay—what you’re asking is not
feasible or legal.”
But his argument lacked conviction,
and Shay, sensing she had the upper emotional hand, played it: “I don’t care!
That’s what I want. If I don’t get what I want, John Cross and I will never
walk down that aisle and I will take my baby and you will never see us again. I
mean it, John Marshall.”
“You’re threatening me?”
She kissed his mouth. “Yes, I’m threatening
you with all my heart.”
“Then you leave me no choice.”
On the phone with Janae Ware; December ,
2015
“I’m pregnant!”
There were squeals, shrieks, and
screeches on the other end of the line.
Shay laughed, “Calm down, Janae. I
have more good news. John Cross and I are getting married in two weeks. We have
opted for a small ceremony. I want you to stand up for me. We’ll fly you to Houston.
Can you do it? Can you get off work?”
“Girl, I might have to sleep with my
boss but I would not miss it for anything!”
“I’ll e-mail you the details! I
can’t wait for you to meet John Marshall.”
“John Marshall, huh?”
“Don’t start!”
Mr and Mrs John Howard Cross
Three weeks later, Sunday, December 23, 2016 Shay Lyn DeBurgo became
Mrs. John Howard Cross in a simple ceremony in a small church.
Following which the happy couple
received several hundred guests at the Governor’s Inn, receiving gifts and well
wishes.
Shay took to the middle of the
floor and surprised everyone when she sang her new husband a love song.
Janae aided in prep, sitting John Cross in the middle of the floor and
organizing folks around the perimeter.
Someone put a microphone in her
hand.
“I am singing this song to my
husband, John Howard Cross, whom I love and adore; who has my heart; who has my
soul; who has my love as I have his. The song is ‘We Are One’ from the movie
Orca. We know that Orcas mate for life and I could not think of a more
appropriate song to convey the special bond we have.”
After scanning the room and making
contact with John Marshall-Bey’s loving eyes she concentrated on her husband of
several hours. This song was for John Marshall as well. She nodded to the MC to
begin the music. Both her parents were singers, so it was no surprise she could
carry a tune, her voice part operatic; part bluesy. She surprised everyone who
did not know she could sing. As she sang, she swayed toward John Cross, circled
his chair, and came to kneel before him to finish the song. He rose and brought
her to her feet and kissed her endearingly to everyone’s applause. “Thank you
for making me an insanely happy man. I love you, Shay.”
------------------------------
I will bring the sun through darkened
clouds
And I will leave with you
Rainbows for your eyes
Rainbows for your eyes
My love, we are one
We are one, we are one, cry my
love
Let me lead you where moonlit
waters fall
Shadows softly call
My love, we are one,
We are one; we are one, cry my
love,
Let me lead you through the
stillness of the night
Deliver dawn’s first light, my
love
We are one, we are one, we are one, WE ARE
ONE
(Carol Connors)
*********************************
Later, Janae weaved her way through
the mingling crowd to pull Shay aside from well-wishers. “Excuse us….”
“Janae Ware! How rude!”
“You look absolutely stunning! You
are wearing the hell out of that dress!”
The dress was made of ivory satin,
sleeveless, just above the knee, showing off her shapely legs in her ivory
satin pumps. “Thanks. Again.”
“Girl, John Marshall can’t take his
eyes off you and he’s not even the groom!
I was over there by the bandstand watching him, watching you! I swear
there were tears in his eyes when you sang that lovely song. What’s up with you
two?”
“Nothing.”
“What’s he like in bed? I bet he can
wear out some pussy.”
“Janae!”
“Shay! Don’t give me that innocent look. There’s no
way you’re rubbing shoulders with that guy every day and not giving up the
nooky!”
“I admit there was an attraction
between us when we first met.”
“I knew it!” Janae’s voice dropped
dramatically: “And so, initially you fought it—you both did—but the rage inside
your loins and your hearts was too strong.”
“No, silly. But you’re right; I
wouldn’t be human if I wasn’t tempted. I realized, however, my heart belonged to John Cross.” Shay
placed her hand over her heart.
“Well, yeah…I can see that. He’s
cute as a button. But my body would
belong to John Marshall.” Janae gesticulated her hands from neck to knee. “And
if I were John Cross, I’d give you a pass! John Marshall is one fine ass white
man.”
“That he is.”
“Look, Shay, since you don’t want
him, can I have him? He can hit it and quit it. That would be fine with this
sister. I kinda feel sorry for him, pining for you. I’d love to give him some
sympathy sex.”
“Don’t waste your pity—John Marshall
is not the pining type. He once told me there’s not a woman that another woman
can’t help him forget. And no, you can’t have him. He’s presently spoken for by
a rich young widow. We might be dancing at his
wedding next.”
“Spoken for or not, just you be careful. Marriage vows won’t
deter a man like him—just whet his appetite.”
“He’s got quite an appetite...I hear.”
“Girl, I am not going to touch that.
But here’s my shoulder if you want to get something off yours.”
Shay laughed. “There’s nothing to
tell. Really.”
“Right.” Janae was unconvinced.
Shay’s eyes searched for John Cross
who was laughing and shaking hands with guests. The Groom was so dashing in his
cummerbund and ivory tails! Next her gaze panned left to John Marshall, dressed
similarly, who started walking toward them.
“Oh! Lordy! He’s coming this way,”
Janae exclaimed, scurrying like prey. “Ciao.”
When John Marshall reached Shay, he smiled
affectionately. “What was that all about? Your little friend Janae is a hoot.”
Shay returned his smile. “I think
the word hoot was invented with her
in mind. She thinks you’re hot stuff, by the way.”
He arched a brow. “Oh, really. Think
I should make my move?”
“You touch her and I’ll slice your
balls off and FedEx them to the widow Hicks.”
“Ouch,” he grinned, looking pleased
by her threat. “May I kiss the bride?”
So much for small talk.
Not waiting for her answer, he
placed a hand at her waist and tipped his champagne glass into her mouth before
he kissed the residue from her lips. It wasn’t a kiss that drew attention; but
special to them. “I love you, Mrs Cross,” he murmured on her lips.
“I wanted a wedding like this for us.”
“I know, Darling.
But you’ve got me, like you wanted. How
do you think I feel not being able to claim you as my lawful wife? I must
forever suppress it and so must you.”
“You have avoided making love to me for
weeks. How am I supposed to take that?”
“I’ve respectfully kept my distance
so you could plan your special day with John Cross without my being a
distraction; plus, I didn’t want you to see me sulking.”
“How noble of you but please don’t anymore or I shall go crazy.”
“I’m already there.”
“So, have you been faithful?”
“Faithful as a lapdog.”
“I would have come to you, you know.”
“I know. I relieved myself in the
shower—thinking of you.”
Shay fluttered her false eyelashes
at him. “Did you like my song?”
“I learn something new about you
everyday, my darling. You leave me breathless.”
“I sang for you too,” she said,
bashful.
He placed his hand over his heart. “I
know. I’m honored. You look simply
mouth-watering and I am going to take my time and disassemble you, eat you up
bit by bit the first chance I get. Shay, you understand me?”
“Oh, Mr. Marshall-Bey, you give me
chills.”
“Dance with me, Mrs. Marshall-Bey.”
“Say that, again.”
“Mrs.
Marshall-Bey, I love you.”
Then in the dead of night, when at
last John Cross retired to bed and Janae was deemed to be under from too much
champagne and celebration, they plotted to sneak out across the fields to the
back of the stables, lay their blankets by the stream and make love like crazy
under the stars. Then dawn came. The fog rolled in. And arm-in-arm they
staggered back to the mansion.
The DeBurgo-Cross marriage worked as
it was designed to work.
The gossip disappeared into ether;
suspicions simmered on low...lower…off.
Nonetheless, wedding vows would
change nothing in the dynamics between Shay and the Johns. The wedding was
nothing more than a formality, a conduit, a blindside.
A pre-nup was considered and
abandoned as well as a formal contract. They didn’t need it, they decided. No
one was going anywhere.
They did, however, involve lawyers
to draw up wills, physician directives, power of attorney, property rights, and
bank accounts involving all three and child.
The next week, the wedded couple
honeymooned in Costa Rica where John Cross’ parents had retired. They remembered
her from her employment at the Cross Estate and wholeheartedly welcomed her
into the family. They were elated that they were going to be grandparents. John was an only child and his mother a
primagravida. Shay understood his birth was unexpected and came late in the
Cross’ lives.
And as for her impending motherhood,
Shay felt she was the most pampered expectant mom in the world! The Johns
waited on her hand and foot and was at her beck-and-call. Nothing was too good for their Shay.
Her new suite was now on the West Wing adjoining the Johns’. The sitting room
was remodeled into a nursery, she designed and decorated herself. John Marshall
commissioned a portrait of her at her most pregnant and he hung that on the
wall opposite his desk so that it would always be within his line of vision.
The Johns’ hands were forever on her
stomach or their ears glued like stethoscopes listening to the heart of the
baby. They learned it was a girl and they decided on the name Bonnie Liza
DeBurgo Marshall-Bey Cross.
The Johns made love to Shay up until
her seventh month. After which they used
other forms of intimacy to show affection.
John Marshall developed a fetish for her milk-engorged breasts and
continued to suckle them right up to the final month. She loved it!
It was not unusual to find herself on his lap, his hand loitering
between her legs; his tongue curled around her nipple when they should be
working on some Foundation project or other.
___________________
“You know you can’t do
this after the baby is born. I’ll be nursing.”
“I don’t see why not.
You have two of them. The baby can nurse on one and I can nurse the other.”
“That is not going to
happen. So go ahead and have your fun now.”
___________________
Shay’s ninth month she was put on
bed rest for the duration. She took a
maternity leave from the Foundation at that time, with an eye
toward quitting for good. She
should be too busy having babies and maintaining a happy home with her two
Johns to work a full time job.
The threat of Kevvin Marshall-Bey
seemed far away if not nonexistent.
The constant was
their eternal love and unbreakable bond. And the baby was at the center of
everything. Their daughter was a July baby, 7lbs 9ozs, dark hair and
blued-eyed.
Sapphire blue eyes that caused disquiet with the Johns.
Sapphire blue eyes that caused disquiet with the Johns.
And soon forced Shay back into
the arms of the paragon of vultures, Kevvin Marshall-Bey III.
What you won’t do for love
John Cross answered John Marshall’s phone call.
“Where are you,
man?”
“Parking. We’re
just getting back from the movie. What’s up? Bonnie okay?”
“She’s
perfect. Sleeping in her crib. Take Shay
straight to the nursery. I need you in my office ASAP without Shay. We need to
divert her attention for a few hours.”
“What’s up?”
“I’ve got Kevvin on skype.”
“I see. I’m there.”
“John Cross! Join the party!” said
Kevvin Marshall-Bey.
“You
son-of-a-bitch. What do you think you’ll accomplish by coming here?”
“My daughter. And maybe her mother too.”
“Over my dead
body,” John Cross threatened.
“The courts are the
authority on that, guys. So why don’t
we let them call it. And once I’ve won the precious babe, I’m confident the
mother will tag along.”
John Marshall exploded: “Over our dead
bodies!”
“She enjoyed every second of it, brother. Ask her. But this call is not about
Shay. It’s about what’s mine and I am not going to let you steal my daughter
from me. If I lose out on the DNA scramble, I’ll bow out. I’ll have no
choice. If I’m the biological father, I
expect you to hand her over without a protracted court battle. In the
meanwhile, can’t we all just get along?”
“Fuck you, Kevvin! You’ll get a
court battle alright, if it comes to that. You think for one second we would
just hand our baby over to you even if it’s shown you are the biological
father. You have no love for her. She’s a meal ticket to you. John Cross is the
father of record. You’re wasting your time coming back to Houston.”
“Landra tells me she has my
eyes. I want to see her for myself.”
“What has Landra to do with it?
Besides, that proves nothing. Sapphire blue eyes are a Marshall genetic
trademark.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? Landra’s my
attorney. She hired a PI on my behalf. You’d be surprised the stuff a private
dick can turn up. Soon your little cushy threesome will be shot to hell,
brother.”
John Cross said: “Since Landra
passed the bar, she should have told you also—as Shay’s husband in the State of
Texas by law I’m the presumed father at the time of birth.”
Kevvin responded by saluting them
with his middle finger.
That same night, the Johns planned
their strategy.
John Marshall to John Cross: “You
knew about Kevvin’s assault on Shay, yet neither you nor Shay saw fit to tell
me. I had to hear that shit from him!”
“We thought it was better you didn’t
know for obvious reasons. She’s my wife now. I have to defend her honor. I have
to protect her, even from you.”
John Marshall glared at his friend,
balling his fists in irritation. “From me?
What the hell are you talking about?
Don’t play the husband card with me or you won’t like where this ends!”
“I wasn’t playing the husband card. Let’s
not get into a debate who loves Shay more; it’s counterproductive. It’s Kevvin who is the focus. She came to me
first about him because she was scared you wouldn’t believe that she had
mistaken Kevvin for you. It would have hurt her deeply if you took his side. I
had to protect her from that pain.”
“Of course I would have believed
her! It’s a moot point now anyway. He
already confessed he went to her room to force her to have sex with him but she
was in the shower, washing her hair. I can see the confusion. I’ve surprised
her in the shower a time or two.”
“And I never have,” John Cross
admitted.
“So, what are we going to do about
Kevvin?”
John Marshall opened his desk drawer
and removed his Iver Johnson Pony .380
mil hand gun.
“Simple, when he shows up here I’ll
shoot him and we’ll store him in the freezer until we locate that fabled
well on the estate and toss his ass 3,000 deep. He’ll never be
recovered."
Houston, we have a problem
Houston, we have a problem
Shay Lyn met Kevvin’s flight from Paris at the AirFrance terminal. He cleared customs and she was waiting for him. Carrying a stylish duffle bag over his shoulder, he was immediately discernible, 6’4”, imposing, dapperly dressed in a winter green suit, sporting eyeshades. It seemed a crime to hide those magnificent sapphire blue eyes her daughter had inherited—either dominantly from him or recessive from the Marshall gene pool. John Marshall could just as well be Bonnie’s father.
He peered over his shades. “Well, well, well! Do my eyes dazzle me
or is this the enthralling Mrs. John
Howard Cross come to welcome me home?”
“Just the opposite, in fact,”
returned Shay, unenthralled.
“Wow…it’s been a whole year. You’re
still looking foxy.”
“Yes, a whole year since you
ravished me.”
“And look what you got! A bouncing
bundle of joy! What? No kiss of appreciation?”
He pinched her chin, bent and took a
kiss anyway. “You taste good. Just as I remembered.”
She slapped his hand away. “This
isn’t old home week; I’m here to save your sorry behind, you moron.”
“Moron? At least I’ve graduated from
imbecile in your eyes. That’s
progress.”
“Can we find somewhere we can sit
and talk privately? Civilly?”
“Sure. There’s a Sports Bar down
this way. C’mon, follow me.”
As they faced off over a cocktail
table in a dimly lit corner—ordering a Margarita for her; a Miller’s for him—he
quizzed her: “So my brother sent you
to deliver another threat to me? Unbelievable.”
“Not at all. Neither John knows I’m
here.”
“Which is why…again?”
“To keep you from walking into their
trap. They plan to kill you. If you come to the mansion attempting to see Lil
Bonnie, they’ll shoot you.”
He chuckled: “Those dicks? They
don’t have the balls. But it’s sweet of you to be concerned.”
“You laugh but I believe they’ll do
it. I believe them when they say they are going to shoot you and throw your
body down the well that’s on the property. The Johns will do anything to
protect our family and so will I.”
Kevvin seemed to go away for a
moment saying cryptically: “Well. I
guess… when there’s no more use for you, there’s
no more use for you.”
Then he pulled himself back. “So, Shay bird, what all would you do to protect your sacred little
family?”
“Certainly not kill you. They left Lil
Bonnie’s 2-way monitor on and I overheard them, every word. I love them. I’m
scared for them, for our lives together, that’s why I’m here. They are not
thinking straight. Sure, you’d be dead. But satisfaction would be all they’d
gain. Their plan would crumble around them and we’d stand to lose everything.
Why didn’t you accept the money from the Johns…to just go away?”
He gave a curt laugh. “A measly few
million when a billion is at stake? What kind of fool do they take me for?
We’ll settle this in court. I’ve sued and I’ve been sued. It comes with the
business. I have established a reputation for being
litigious. Sometimes, I lose but I always enjoy a good court fight. It’s
the American way.”
“But in this case, you drag
everything into the public eye: an innocent baby, the Foundation, your brother,
the family name—”
“—the questionable way you and
the Johns conduct your lives.”
“You mean sharing a home full of
love and commitment.”
“Public perception is all that
counts, Shay baby. Houston is filled with bigots. The community at large will
find it repulsive. The local media will have a feast. An innocent little girl being raise in that
environment? Could even capture national curiosity. I might lose, but so will
all of you.”
“You’d do that to your child?”
“So, you admit she’s mine.”
“Only fifty per cent certain.”
“I like those odds.”
“The money to fund your next
film—why didn’t you take it when your brother offered it?”
“You know about that?”
“We have no secrets from one
another.”
“Are you sure about that?” he
smirked, leaning back in his chair, idly. “I told him a lie. I don’t need his money. I
just wanted to know what kind of forgiving heart he had. Mister
let-bygones-be-bygones. So now I know.”
“What about this, Kevvin: wait. Wait
sixteen years for DNA testing. Bonnie is no good to you till she’s eighteen
anyway and you gain conservatorship or control of her trust fund—if you win in
court. What can you accomplish by acting now? Certainly not the money. Only
pain and suffering for those who truly love her.”
He appeared to think about it.
“Point taken. May I at least see a picture of my precious little one?”
“I don’t see the harm…” She rummaged
in her purse for her cell, finding Bonnie’s pictures, swiping thru them.
“Here.”
“She’s beautiful. The spitting image
of—dare I say it?—me.”
“Yes, she’s beautiful.
And loved. And protected.”
He tapped the screen. “Sync this one to my
phone.”
He produced his cell and she completed the
exchange.
“So do we have a deal?” she pressed
as he slid his phone back in to its niche inside his jacket.
“You’re asking a lot, Shay.
What do I get in return?”
"A handshake?"
"Try again."
"A handshake?"
"Try again."
“Money can’t buy you…so…what do you
want?”
"Really, Shay? There should be no mystery to my desire."
"You mean you didn't get all you wanted in my shower?"
"Did you? Aren't you curious what I have to offer in a more relaxed setting, say--a big, comfortable bed?"
"If I wanted to be stretched to infinity, I'd rather use a vise--not that bull mastiff you call a penis."
"Really, Shay? There should be no mystery to my desire."
"You mean you didn't get all you wanted in my shower?"
"Did you? Aren't you curious what I have to offer in a more relaxed setting, say--a big, comfortable bed?"
"If I wanted to be stretched to infinity, I'd rather use a vise--not that bull mastiff you call a penis."
“Thanks for the praise, now let's skip to the details. And there is only one. I want to fuck you in every
position there is. Over time, of course. I’ll be patient.”
“Why is it always about sex with you
men? Do I hold any other value?”
“Do you? If you’ve got any other
collateral to secure our agreement that I would be interested in, lay it on me.
Give…I’d like to hear it.”
There was nothing. “How—how many positions are there?”
He raised an eyebrow at the
question. “You’re kinky; so what does it matter?”
“That might take years! And I am not kinky!” she yelled
in a whisper. Well, maybe her hair.
With like whisper, Kevvin stabbed
the table with his index finger: “The hell you aren’t! You’re in a three-way
with the most pervy guys I know!”
“They are not perverts. You’re just
jealous of the Johns.”
“Jealous of the Johns. Why? Because
they have what is rightfully mine? To quote Hamlet, and therein lies the rub. Of course, you can always get the
paternity question out of the way now
and prove I’m not the father, and I poof! Disappear.”
“Don’t you think I would if I were
confident in the results?”
“Then we’ll do it my way.” Kevvin
raised his arm and consulted his watch.
“You'd be surprised how many deals are cemented in bed. I’ve got ten hours to kill before I can book another flight back to
Paris. I’ll get a room at the airport Marriot. So, Shay, my sweet, you will
spend that time with me there as a down payment on our agreement.”
“Ten hours!” she balked.
“I like to get the most bang for my
buck. How’s that for a pun?”
“I can’t spend ten
hours with you. I couldn’t account for the time. Neither would I want to
breathe the same oxygen as you that long. Two hours, max.”
“Since this is on the fly, I’ll take what I can get for now. But next time I want a night and a day. Plan for it.”
“You understand, don’t you, that I loathe you?”
“Since this is on the fly, I’ll take what I can get for now. But next time I want a night and a day. Plan for it.”
“You understand, don’t you, that I loathe you?”
He smirked. “Make that three hours. You need a loathing
adjustment.”
“There’s not that much time in the
Universe.”
Shay thought back to that shaky
beginning of their union when John Marshall screwed other women presumably to
protect their relationship against scandal. Well, wasn’t this the same thing?
Taking one for the team?
Shay agreed to the three hours
providing she could pull off a suitable alibi.
“A resourceful woman like you should
be able to lie convincingly to her loving husband and her dutiful lover.”
Shay closed her eyes in thought
briefly and when she opened them, he had brought his face closer—his sapphire
eyes piercing. “So what do you say? Do we have a contract?”
“Just don’t leave any bruises I might have to explain,” she
said.
“I won’t. At least not where they’ll
be noticed,” he replied thickly, walking his fingers along her bare arm.
She moved her arm to her lap. “Answer
one question? Would you have raped me
were it not for the convenience of the shower?”
Kevvin clucked his tongue. “Rape is
an ugly word. I don’t make it a habit to rape women. But to settle the
question—I wanted you, so—Yes, I
would have used my superior strength to subdue you if you had resisted me. Am I
a reprobate? Probably,” he answered, looking down into his drink. Then he
tossed it back and stood.
They locked looks.
Shay said: “So you know—I would not
have fought you. I’ve been forced before. By John Cross, no less. I learned
then that it was in my best interest to submit to him.”
“Right. Because in the end, it’s
only sex. You would have shaken it off by the time the Johns arrived home for
dinner. Did I get it right? Wasn’t that exactly what you did? To keep the peace? See how well I know you. Let’s go.”
Airport Marriot and the deal
“Join me?” Kevvin invited, as he
stripped to shower.
Shay shook her head. “Been there. Done that. Had the baby.”
While Kevvin removed fifteen hours
of travel time from his body, Shay paced the plush carpeted floor of the suite,
nervous about impending events. She
moved to the massive windows that allowed the 14th floor an
unfettered view of the busy highways, power lines, and planes flying in and out
of the airport.
After a minute, she turned away and
her eyes fell to the king bed. What were his sexual proclivities? A man that
would rape? He would be inflexible and demanding, of course. Just that one time
with him in the shower revealed he was passionately raw and tended to be
coarse. She could abide it. Like he said, it was only sex. And he had promised
no bruising. How bad could it be? After all, she had two insatiable men at
home!
She drew the drapes to darken the
room. No need to shed broad daylight on her infidelity.
Her tormentor
emerged from his shower, dried and boastfully naked, a towel around his waist
barely covering him. He was the body double of Heracles. A body to be worshiped
by adoring females and lovers of gods and heroes. Too bad he was wicked to his
baby teeth.
“So, what’s the 4-1-1?” he asked.
“The Johns think I’m at my G-Y-N.”
“Gynecologist? Smart.”
“That way, I can claim a yeast
infection and have an excuse to abstain while I put a hundred douches between
you and them.”
“Of course, they buy whatever you’re
selling. I wrongly thought you were their sex slave. But the converse is true,
isn’t it? They’re wrapped around your little brown finger? They’re
pussy-whipped; under your loving control. Right? Shay.
They coddle you too much. If you were my woman—”
“What, Kevvin? You’d beat me; chain
me to your bed? Demean me? Strip me of my self-respect? Keep me naked, barefoot
and pregnant? They love me. Do you
love anyone, Kevvin? Are you capable of love?”
Kevvin passed her an irreverent look. “I was going to say, with a pussy like yours,
I’d be whipped too. They’re not as dumb as they look. They know what they’ve
got. What happened in the shower between us was a PG-approved preview. Today, I
get an X-rated bite of their pie.”
“And for your information, the
sex-slave concept does not exist in our union. We are individuals, equal in
every way.”
His eyes narrowed. “So do you get
time off or is it Shay their way, all day, all the time.”
“It’s not like that. I have lots of
free me time.”
“If you say so, Shay.” Whereupon he reached into his carry-on and
withdrew a box of magnum condoms, which he shook at her, and dropped on the
bedside table.
Shay was glad to see them. “You do practice safe sex. I’m elated.”
“Undress.”
Shay stepped out of her high heeled
sandals, her arms folding back to unzip her simple floral summer sheath; it
slid to the carpet and she was naked except for the white sheer briefs.
“Keep the panties,” he said,
dropping down on the edge of the bed.
“Come here…closer…”
Shay moved closer until her pelvis
was level to his face. Kevvin leaned in, opening his mouth full over her
crotch. Then he laved her thru her panties until they were wet from his saliva
and her own contribution. She grew light-headed and clasped his shoulders for
balance as her body gave her up and she came. He slid his tongue inside her
panty leg and lapped up her syrup, making a noise of pleasure in his throat
that rivaled the one in her throat. Finally, he retracted his tongue; his head
went back, his sapphire blue eyes wise. She met them with undeniable heat.
“You have a big strong athletic tongue,” she said.
“You like what I can do with it.”
“What gave me away?”
“What else do you like, Shay?”
“Why should I tell you so that you
can do it ten times better than the Johns and make me fall in love with you?”
“Do you fall in love so easily?”
“It appears I do. I have a high
capacity for love and that petrifies me where you are concerned because I don’t
like you very much.”
“You’re certainly more honest than
you have to be…so tell me—if I lick you good and fuck you good, I could change
your mind about me.”
“That’s what I fear.”
“You think I want you for myself?”
“Don’t you? Not for love, of course,
God forbid, but desirous of me because I belong to your brother and beyond your
reach. I would be like a trophy.”
“Wow, Shay, your prepositional
phrases are curdling my brain. It’s true that my brother and I are competitive;
but if I wanted you, it would have little to do with one-upping my brother and
more to do with the life you and I created together. I’m very much a
traditional man.”
“If you say so.”
“I say so.”
Then he reached, flicked her
nipples, first one then the other. Kevvin was eager to chew them. They were
chubby and akin to ripe raspberries. Not the red ones found in
supermarkets but the dusky kind he had picked in a Paris vine field
once.
He noticed a tiny keloid scar on the
plump side of her right breast, and touched it. “What happened here?”
“I had a biopsy.”
“That must have been scary.”
“It was. But I’m alright. Turned out
to be just an abscess. They drained it.”
He nodded, stood and splayed his
large hand over her stomach, nearly covering it. “You’re so flat. It’s
hard to believe our baby was in there.”
Our baby. She wouldn’t argue the fact with him as there was probability. “Yoga,” she breathed; then caught her breath back as his gorgeous genitals poked thru the towel and swayed against her belly. All she had to do was move her hand slightly to fondle them or stoop and they’d be in her mouth.
Our baby. She wouldn’t argue the fact with him as there was probability. “Yoga,” she breathed; then caught her breath back as his gorgeous genitals poked thru the towel and swayed against her belly. All she had to do was move her hand slightly to fondle them or stoop and they’d be in her mouth.
“I love your brown skin,” he said in
awe, caressing her arms. “I’m going to nibble on every inch of it.”
He moved his hands around to her
butt, squeezing more padding than he remembered. “I see both your hips and your
breasts benefited from your maternity. I love that.”
Next he peeked into her panties and
sucked in his breath. “What happened to your bush? It was so nice and fluffy as
I recall.”
“They shaved it when I gave birth.
It didn’t grow back.”
“I like it. I bet the Johns do
too.” They did.
He took her hands
in his. Turned them palm up, then down. “Neat pale manicure. You won’t be
drawing blood from my back with these.”
“Nor would I want to. Are you going
to examine my teeth next? Or screw me?”
“Are you this mouthy with the
Johns?”
“Only when they’re actually in my mouth.”
“I’d love your lips locked around my
cock.”
He released the towel and she
watched its progression to the carpet, showing off what he was all about.
“Know what I need, Shay?”
“A bigger towel?”
“I need you to keep an open mind.”
His penis. It was a faux pas to speak of size in these
situations. Tacky, really. Okay, let’s just get it out there—it was whopping.
And that was not even the main event—the head was blood red! She
had experienced it but hadn’t actually seen it full on. So yes, her mouth gaped
some. Had all of that been inside her before?
“If you’re thinking about our time
in your shower…no, Shay,” he said, “I held back for obvious reasons. And yes,
Shay, it’s what it looks like.”
God,
I hope so, she thought. Then chided herself for her thoughts.
“I warn you. Its
bite is bigger,” he boasted. “But of course, you’ve got two of these at home.”
Not
quite. But he had to know that.
Her anticipation must have read like
fear on her face.
“I hope you’re not intimidated,” he
said.
She squeaked: “It’s a good thing my vagina is insured along
with the rest of me.” God knows, Republicans were fighting hard for imminent domination.
“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll
try to tamp down my fervor. That helps. I’m not all technique. I do immerse
myself at times.”
“I’m not looking for special
treatment. Just do me like you do your whores—within reason.”
“You have me confused with the
Johns. I never frequent whores. I only have lovers and I treat them the same
with one agenda—my gratification
because I’m a selfish son-of-a-bitch. They can come with me or not. Their
pleasure is not uppermost in my mind, and thus I’m always in transition between
lovers. So your heart is safe. I assure you, you will return to the Johns, your
loathing of me intact. I, on the other hand, might find myself… a bit
attached,” he said, lifting her and propelling her face down onto the bed.
“I’m already vouched for, papers and
everything; it would serve us both to keep that in mind.”
Kevvin pressed her face into the
mattress until her words were indecipherable. “You have a smart mouth.”
Then he moved to retrieve a condom,
rolled it on deftly, and Shay was surprised to see that it fit. She flipped
over on her back, skimmed out her panties and assumed a submissive position:
knees bent thighs apart.
Today
would test her true grit.
Kevvin smirked, kneeled between her
legs, clutched her hips and pierced her with a bit of small savagery; which she
expected and therefore adapted to quickly; because she was nothing if not
resilient, anchoring her heels into the mattress to absorb the tiny shocks to
her cervix when he arrived there. He was really crammed in with a few inches to
spare no matter how hard she strained to invaginate him completely and no
matter how hard he pressed.
“Shay. Open your eyes. Look at me. I won’t have you
fantasizing about those other cocks in your life.”
That certainly was not what she was
doing.
He smacked her cheek. “Understand?”
“Yes,”
she bit out, irritated that he dared strike her. Yet not surprised. She
suspected all along domineering tendencies lurking beneath his self-assured
veneer.
He pushed her thighs flat against
the mattress and surged aggressively against her softly yielding boarders. Surely, he tore away dermis!
She made a tiny
sound of protest. He gripped her chin, advising her, “Don’t clinch up.”
“Actually, I was gritting my teeth.”
Though she was
vulnerable, as any woman would be to a man endowed as Kevvin was, she possessed
a sturdy little vagina that stood up to the constant rigors of two hyper-sexed
males who didn’t seem concerned that she was with the other mere hours before. Yes,
she admitted to herself having two round-the-clock lovers was challenging; and
that it was up to her to put in the necessary work to keep their arrangement humming
smoothly. She kept her body fit; her Klieg
muscles toned; her vault astringed and minty fresh. Plus she ate healthy. And
though she had the power of the vagina, she never said no.
In later years, she’d probably find
it exhausting but for now she kept up with the pace. It was to her advantage to
do so, receiving as much benefit as the Johns did, having been tutored by them.
If she wasn’t now a full-blown nymph, she was at the finishing line!
Those were her thoughts as Kevvin
paused to fashion their bodies into a complex Kama Sutra position that held their mouths a breath apart. But she
was only guessing about that. She’d never read the Kama Sutra tome.
“Better?”
Awkward, confining, and convoluted, but yes:
“Better.”
Why was he trying to
make it better? She didn’t want it better.
But there it was: Better. Wetter. Hotter. Deeper than she thought possible. She felt rearranged inside.
“Did you feel that?” he asked, awed. Kevvin, who was rarely awed by anything.
Yes!
God, what was that! Her eyes widen upon him.
“I think our souls cracked,” he
offered.
Or her womb.
It certainly was something she’d
never experienced before.
“I think I’m
injured,” she groaned.
“No you’re not. You’re using muscles
you never had to before.” He kissed her sweetly. “I like that.”
Suddenly, her cervix began to vibrate into small oscillating voltages.
"I...I can't take it...." she breathed.
"Sure you can. Shay, look at me."
Suddenly, her cervix began to vibrate into small oscillating voltages.
"I...I can't take it...." she breathed.
"Sure you can. Shay, look at me."
Shay’s eyes stayed entranced until they
collapsed in orgasmic sameness. His mouth mashed down on hers in a lusty kiss
she would have enthusiastically returned—had she been conscious to do so.
She had passed out!
She had passed out!
Shay came to, Kevvin smacking her again.
She grabbed at his hand. “Stop! Stop hitting
me.”
“Good, you’re awake.”
“What happened?”
“Shay, you fell asleep.” He held a
damp cloth to her forehead.
“I didn’t fall asleep. I must have
passed out. How long…?”
“A few minutes, I don’t know. Damn
it, Shay. You scared the hell out of me.”
“I’m scared myself,” Shay said,
taking the cloth from his hand and putting it behind her neck as she sat up
against the headboard.
“Have you ever passed out during sex
before?”
No, not
even when she lost her virginity, though she prayed to.
“No…and don’t flatter yourself.”
“Are you diabetic?”
She shook her head. “I’m
perfectly healthy. I just had a wellness check-up last month. May I have a
glass of water?”
“Sure.”
Kevvin watched Shay judiciously as
she swallowed then he left the bed with the glass and came back with his cell,
tapping, scrolling, surfing.
“What are you doing?”
“Googling fainting during sex. I never had a woman pass out on me before.”
“What does it say?”
“Hold on, I’m reading. Hmm…not
that…we weren’t doing any erotic
asphyxiation play...”
“Well, read it aloud.”
“It’s medical jargon. But basically
says it’s not unusual to black out from intense orgasms or prolonged,
continuous orgasms, and deeply shared orgasms with the partner. Ha! So I can flatter myself! Anyway, unless you
experience blackouts each time you climax, you should be okay; if you do,
consult your doctor.”
“Maybe I’m allergic to latex and I
had an anaphylactic reaction. I’ve never been in contact with a condom before.”
“Of course not. They were trying to
knock you up. Anyway my rubbers are not made of latex, sweetheart. They don’t
make ‘em in latex large enough. Polyurethane.”
“Oh.”
He pitched the phone to the bedside
table and announced: “I say you’re fine. But we’ll take a break anyway. Come
here. Let me hold you.”
They took the break
but he had less than two hours left on their deal and he wasn’t going to let a
little thing like fainting get in the way. “We won’t be too ambitious,” he
proposed.
“Gotta pee.”
Kevvin stood vigilant watching her
on the toilet.
“This is not necessary, Kevvin. I’m
fine. I’m not going to keel over and hit the floor.”
“I’m not taking that chance.”
When it was his time to pee, he
called her over from the sink: “Look,” he said as if in wonder. “I’m totally
limp. I don’t remember the last time that’s happened.” He clasped her palm
around his soft shaft and urged her to aim him,freeing his hands to clutch her
breasts whilehis bull tongue licked her lipslike a lollipop. Yes, it was
extreme behavior, but seemed so natural between them—as though this was
commonfare.
Oh
Kevvin, don’t make me fall for you too. That would be a bit much to handle.
Time to go home, she took a quick
shower, ignoring the fact that he pulled back the curtain and watched her like a hawk its next meal.
He toweled her dry. Afterwards, he took the comb from her hand and groomed her
hair; then he insisted on re-applying her make-up. “There!” He did a fair job
of both. “I’m in film,” he explained. “I know how to do these things.”
Shay knew given the chance and
proximity, if he decided he wanted her
in his life that would be her worst nightmare. For now, he was satisfied with
perks on the periphery.
And she thanked the heavens for that.
“May I have my panties back,
please?”
“I think I’ll keep them as a
souvenir.”
“What a perfect louse you are!”
“Thanks! Know how the Johns became
so close?” Kevvin asked her from the bed as she dressed; sitting back, his arms
dangling over his parted knees allowing free range of his majestic genitals.
She tried to tug her eyes away but failed miserably.
“They were frat brothers or
something,” she replied, watching him pitch her panties in the air then bring
them to his nose.
“Not initially. I was in the same
fraternity, so I know. They met at a sex addiction medical trial. The fools were
guinea pigs, receiving experimental injections that didn’t work but probably
left them sterile. Of course they bonded; what other crisis did they have in
common?”
Shay raised her brows at that
notion. “Because strangers of course befriend more quickly over their
miseries?”
“It’s a sociological fact.”
“They never told me about these
clinical trials.”
“Because, Shay, they don’t want you to know.”
“So that’s your theory? They’re
sterile?”
“That’s why I believe Bonnie is mine.”
“That’s why I believe Bonnie is mine.”
She had no retort as she believed it too.
“I envy my
brother,” Kevvin continued. “You’re married to his best friend but he can
lay with you whenever he wants, right?”
“Whenever he wants...whenever I want.” Shay stepped into her sandals.
“Lucky bastard.”
“Whenever he wants...whenever I want.” Shay stepped into her sandals.
“Lucky bastard.”
“I’m the lucky one. To have the love
of two extraordinary individuals.”
“If you ever decide to leave them—”
“You haven’t been paying attention.
They are the only two men I’ve ever been with; the only men I’ve ever loved.
And they love me. End of story.”
“You’ve been with me. And don’t tell
me I don’t count.”
“I’m going to try hard to forget.”
“I would never share you with
another man. That’s insanity. Do they
fight over you?”
“Not at all. We’re all in accord.
There’s no jealousy.”
“There’s got to be jealousy, Shay.
They’re wise enough to hide it from you and from each other.”
“I’m their woman. We’re exceedingly
devoted one to the other. We own who we are.”
“Bullshit. The Johns are in league; devoted
to each other. You’re their toy…their plaything they get to take turns with. That’s
not love, Shay. That’s obsession.”
“This from a guy who admittedly has
never been in love.”
“I’m too jealous to love. I’m a
jealous man…an extremely jealous man. Love would destroy me. I wouldn’t wish
that on any woman. And you’re right. I’d keep you barefoot and pregnant and decimate
any rival, perceived or real.”
“I’ve heard enough. As I said, I’m
going to forget today happened.”
He laughed out loud. “I don’t see that high
wire act happening. Although, to feel
otherwise is to be disloyal to the Johns. I get it.”
“They love me. I love them.”
“That’s why you’re here with
me…because you love them so much.”
“I’m here with you because you’re
blackmailing me!”
“Whoa…don’t you have that twisted?
Aren’t you the one bribing me? The
one that came to me?”
“I had no choice—you brute—you have me
caught in a bear trap I can’t escape unless I chew off my leg!”
“Face it. You wanted to impale
yourself on my dick again. You just needed an excuse.”
“You actually hold me in contempt,”
she said in wonder.
“On the contrary, I’d never hold you
in contempt. Not the mother of my child. I hold you in the highest esteem. I
just want you to take responsibility for today.”
“Can I have my panties? I’d like to
leave, please.”
“Come and get them.”
She started forward
but the sight of his loins displayed like naughty cake ornaments. Yes! Damn it!
His balls were a dysmorphic marvel...but it was for the glossy red glans penis that her tongue twitched in
her mouth. Male organs in general fascinated her. The jezebel in her said go
for it! Take them into your mouth. Go ahead—keep putting one foot in front of
the other.
“On second thought, keep the
panties. Jerk off on them for all I care.”
Shay haughtily crossed to the door, swung
it open, and stopped dead, almost colliding with the tall, stunning blonde
poised to knock. Both women looked surprised.
“Landra! You got my text.” Kevvin
was right behind Shay, pushing her into the hall and pulling Landra into the
room with “I’ll be right there.” He closed the door.
“Landra? Landra Hollingsworth?”
“Look, Shay—”
Shay scanned his naked body,
dismayed but not because he failed to cover himself.
Their voices fell to a harsh
whisper:
“Did you plan this? Your ex-lover;
your brother’s ex-wife—finding me here compromised so that she can rat me out
to the Johns? You are such a two-faced backstabber. I could kill you.”
“The irony of that would be
mind-boggling. Landra, Shay, is also my legal counsel. Her mouth is sealed.”
“I doubt her attorney-client
privileges extend to me! I know about
you two. You’re pathetic to still cling to her skirt tails.”
“Because you know me so well?” He
handed over her panties he had balled in his fist and she stuffed them in her
purse.
“As well as you know me. So, are you
going to screw her too?”
“I wasn’t planning on it. But if
it’ll make you bat-shit jealous, I’ll screw her brains out.”
“Why do you care if I’m jealous or
not?”
“For the same reason you care if I
have sex with her.”
“I don’t. I don’t care. Have at it.
We’re nothing to each other.”
“Except that we’re biological
parents to our adorable baby girl, no small consideration, plus we’re hot for
each other.”
“So long, Kevvin.”
He caught her forearms and gave her
a little shake, his genitals bouncing with the motion. “We fucked. And between certain couples that’s a stronger bond than
so-called love. I’m jealous of the Johns. I need your reciprocal jealousy to make that justifiable.”
“That’s crazy talk. Let me go.”
He held onto her. “Don’t play games with me,
Shay. Truth. The thought of me screwing
Landra—tell me, are you jealous or no?”
“I can’t believe we’re having this
ridiculous conversation in the hall with your privates exposed!”
“Yes or no dammit!”
“Alright! It stings a bit knowing you’d
be with her after what we just did together.
It sounds idiotic to my own ears to even say it. I certainly am not
going home and jump in bed with the Johns.”
He let her go. “Don’t think this is
over.”
“What every handcuffed villain says.
Enjoy Landra. Enjoy your flight back to
Paris.”
“Shay.” Kevvin caught her free hand
and forced her fingers around his cock. “See, you can’t even close your fist.”
“What’s your point?”
He released her hand. “Something to
stick in your mind while you’re trying to forget this day ever happened.”
Shay Lyn made it home, only a
half-hour behind schedule, the tingling still in her hand from Kevvin’s audacious
manhood.
Exhausted and tender between her
legs, Shay’s first order of business was to luxuriate in a sitz bath. And it
was in that bath, that she discovered, much to her surprise and consternation,
rage and fury, one of Kevvin’s condoms!
Niched high up, she hadn’t felt a thing. Flushed out by her vaginal
cleanse, the rubber was matted with semen and abused by subsequent battering by
her treacherous tormentor.
“Kevvin, you snake! Don’t you dare
hang up!”
“If you would just calm down so I
can explain. I see you’ve discovered my little stunt. Sorry, Shay, I didn’t
plan it; but the opportunity fell in my lap when you passed out. It was fate. You’re probably pregnant as we
speak. How can we miss when we need just one of my six hundred million bad boys
to do the trick?”
“Trick is right! Why are you doing
this to me? Why are you trying to ruin my life?”
“Ruin? Hardly that, but you’ll figure it out. I’ll
be in touch. Goodbye, Shay.”
Shay’s outward appearance remained
the same. The Johns would not be the wiser. She was the same person she was
before she entered that Marriot suite.
Fresh from her soak, she went looking
for them and found them in John Marshall’s office. Their heads were totally
engrossed in the computer.
“Hey, you two. What’s going on?”
Something to do with Kevvin, I bet. A workable deal, perhaps?
Something to do with Kevvin, I bet. A workable deal, perhaps?
They spared her a glance. John Cross
answered. “Just a change in some
Foundation plans. Nothing to worry your sweet self about.”
If they only knew where her sweet self had been.
“Okay. Then I
won’t. Dinner ready ‘round seven."
© 2015 Her Two Johns by Phyllis O Scott.
Two and one makes three on a mat
John Marshall took her yeast malady in stride with a kiss and a smile.
“I can wait. We can do other things, sweetheart.”
“Like cuddle you mean?”
“Uh yeah…that too.”
True to character, John Cross
reacted adversely to this unexpected nuisance. He made it clear in the past: he
was not the cuddling type. Cuddling made him hornier.
“It’s a female problem I know; but,
baby, how did this yeast thing happen?”
Shay tsked-tsked. “Bummer, right? I
have the cleanest twat in Houston. I douche myself night and day. And that
appears to be the problem—I keep myself too
clean it turns out. I’m washing away all the good bacteria or fauna as Dr Lang calls it—and making my
birth canal vulnerable to infection.”
He sighed exasperatedly,
“Thankfully, there are medicines that can clear this thing up in a day or two.
Right?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. No meds:
plain old yogurt, applied inside my vagina twice a day for seven days.”
“Yogurt?”
he whined. “Seven days?”
“John, you’re acting like a spoiled
child. After Bonnie was born, we had to wait six weeks.”
“Don’t remind me. Seven days seems
like an eternity now.”
“But look on the bright side: you
get to operate the plunger.”
His eyes twinkled. John Cross was a playful lover. His favorite
play thing was stuffing her vagina. His cock, for sure; but for kink, a soft
peppermint stick. His favorite foreplay was to suck the red stripes off while
they lay soixante-neuf. She delighted
in the play too.
Shay Lyn had come to a monumental
decision. She had thought of a way to soothe her non-guilty conscience and
reward the Johns at the same time. And today Saturday was an excellent occasion
for execution of her gambit.
Weather-wise, it was a horrible day
for anything else.
Dark clouds hovered in the
troposphere. An electrical storm rolled into Houston with gale warnings. Rain
flooded the thoroughfares and winds brought down trees and roof tops. They
garaged their cars least they be swept away. Floods and landslides were
immobilizing parts of the city. It was the worse rainstorm in Texas history.
There was an eerie howling outside the manor that completed the gloomy setting.
They had plans for today including
an appointment at the photographer’s for their first family portrait, postponed
till the following weekend.
Around noon, Shay popped in the Rec
Room where the guys were playing 9-ball.
“It would be a great time to hit the
gym,” Shay suggested. “When’s the last
time the three of us got our fitness on together?”
They couldn’t remember.
“Right. So change then and I’ll meet
you gentlemen downstairs,” she said gaily.
The forty-by-forty gym was a fitness
buff’s wet pipe dream.
Equipped with two of everything:
including treadmills, ellipticals, exercise bikes, workbenches, rowers; large
black mats, barbells, pull up and chin up bars. And for Shay Lyn, John Marshall
had installed yoga and Pilates gear.
The communal shower itself could
accommodate six.
After almost ninety minutes, they
were ready to throw in the towel.
“Hey!” she called to the Johns as
they lumbered toward the stairs. “The shower down here is more than adequate
for the three of us. Care to join me?” She pulled her tube top over her head
and wiggled out of her shorts. And was bare.
The Johns exchanged looks, shrugged,
stripped down to skin, stepped in the cavernous depths of the amenities
equipped shower and turned on their taps; then turned their lusty attention to
Shay.
“Come on. Stop gawking. You act like
you’ve never seen my naked body before.”
Giggling, Shay hung soap-on-a-rope around
their necks. “Bathe me and I’ll return the favor.”
“Shay, what are you playing at?”
John Marshall inquired with a quirk of his brow.
“I’d like to know that myself,” John
Cross added.
She looked from one to the other:
her boldly hung gladiators. “Do I have to spell it out? You told me, John
Marshall, all I had to do was say the word. Well, I’m saying the word—threesome.”
John Cross frowned: “Shay, are you sure?”
“What does a girl have to do around
here to get some extra attention?”
“We had no idea you wanted...this.”
“Well, I do! I mean—am I the only one in this relationship
with unrequited fantasies?”
“What about the seven days…?” John
Marshall queried.
“I’m fine,” she rejoined. “Besides,
it’s day five. Close enough.” Then she pressed herself to John Cross and kissed
him with open mouth lust; shifting, doing the same to John Marshall. She
observed their cocks were way ahead of them.
Shay turned, faced forward. “Wash my
back, please? And my front?”
She was amused, watching them divide
the labor of cleansing her body and she hoped they were not as muddled when it
came time for fun and games on the mat.
Clean and dried, all—John Cross
carried her to the largest of the mats where John Marshall drew her tube top
down over her head and eyes, effectively cutting off her vision, while John
Marshall positioned a towel beneath her.
“I’m a little nervous, my loves.
What is my part?”
The men chuckled, John Marshall
saying: “Oh, you’ll know.”
As thunder and lightning fulminated
outside and the winds screamed at the mansion, the Johns settled Shay on her
back with her limbs crooked and splayed. John Cross kneeled at her head,
whispering I love you before his
mouth descended upon hers. But she found it difficult to concentrate on his
kiss when John Marshall was generating chaos and commotion further south with his mouth.
For two guys who never had a
threesome together, they were perfectly synchronized. At one point the lights
flickered off but they were too engrossed to care.
Shay begged them to stop when her
body was surfeit of pleasure…and hammering cocks, one behind the other.
They removed her makeshift blind
fold, signifying it was over. “Oh, my—the lights went out!”
“No kidding? We didn’t notice. So,
what do you think?” John Cross asked, as they lay on opposite sides of her,
caressing her skin. “Too much?”
“Would you be offended if I said ‘yes’?”
She grinned, stretching in superfluity.
“What was your favorite thing,
besides the mind-blowing orgasms, of course?” John Marshall teased.
The
Do-Si-Do…The Roll Away…U-turn back…See Saw the Taw. It was like all the ins
and outs of a square-dance.
“All of it. I think I
short-circuited a couple of times.”
“In other words, this experience as
glorious as it was… is for the archives,” John Marshall concluded.
“Yes, my Johns, once is quite enough
for this girl.”
(Book One is
concluded. Book Two: Has Kevvin impregnated Shay again? Will he win her away
from the Johns? )
© 2015 Her Two Johns by Phyllis O Scott.
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