Listen, y'all. I've written threesomes before. I've even written threesomes in which the reader is supposed to kind hate one of the participants. This one has been a doozy. After a couple of downer chapters I'm pressuring myself to make the November section a barnburner. For the people. Because erotica. Said people have been very opinionated, which made me want to take the parts I'd already written and tweak them. The trajectory it was on didn't connect to the material I had for the aftermath. What could happen during an event, that Jesse was desperate to go well, that would make Chrisette upset? Poor woman. My apologies to womankind stand.
Note to Self: in the future, just make a super long chapter with the sexy stuff as a palate cleanser for the depression, lest the shorter installments be absolutely hammered in the comments.
August
I’m on a job site in Providence, talking to the foreman, when I get a call. He takes a peek at the scene before I silence it.“How old’s your son?”
“He just turned one,” I say, and because I know Jesse would blow a gasket if I ever claimed Seth as my own, I clarify. “He’s actually my, uh, my girlfriend’s kid, but he’s the absolute best.”
“Cute,” the foreman says. “Mine all hit a switch right around that time. They were all about mom right until around ten, eleven months maybe? And then suddenly my wife was chopped liver and I was the favorite.”
I laugh. “Seth’s probably in that camp. He says ‘Da da da da’ a lot, and you can’t tell me that’s the best a one-year-old could do with my name. Sorry to his dad, who’s a good guy.”
I straighten up from where I’ve been leaning on the shopping cart, letting Seth pull on my hair.
“Sasha. You’re looking well.”
It’s true, she’s as sleek and gorgeous as ever. Her sharp gaze lands on Seth.
“Is this Chrissy’s kid?”
“Da! Da! Da da da da!” Seth babbles. He does love a pretty lady.
“Yeah, this is Seth.”
She nods with a downturned smile that I know means she’s judging me pretty harshly. “Wow.”
“Oh, it gets worse,” I chuckle. It’s a relief to be able to say it out loud. “I live with them. We sleep like the grandparents in Willy Wonka.”
Sasha’s thick red hair cascades behind her when she throws her head back to laugh. “Are you fucking kidding?”
“Nope. I’d love to pretend like you should have regrets, but no. You were right about everything.”
“Including Jesse?”
“Hah. Well. That one’s maybe worse than either of us thought.”
Her eyes go wide. “Oh shit. You like him.”
“Oh, hi!” Seth says, so I don’t have to reply.
“Yes,” I reply carefully.
She looks delighted. “More than one?”
“Yeah.”
“Was it fun?”
“Mostly. Can be awkward at times.”
“I want us to have one.” She gestures at the bedroom where Jesse’s already asleep. I guess it was another hard day for Babe.
“I can’t see your husband going for that,” I told Chrissy. The guy who can’t wrap his head around his own sexuality isn’t going to do well with a threesome that I’m part of.
Chrissy gives me a playful look over the top of her wineglass. “You think he’s going to say no to me? Nobody’s fucked him in a year. He’ll be desperate.”
“Is that part of it for you? Making Jesse do shit he’s uncomfortable with?”
“One hundred percent,” she answers easily. “But that’s always been part of our relationship. Like, he used to need lights off, missionary only, no foreplay because what if he did it wrong…I basically sculpted him into a decent lover. This is just the next step.”
That didn’t sound like the guy who happily got fucked on the side of a dirt road, but I believe her.
“Someday I’m gonna top him,” Chrisette muses aloud.
“You want to peg Jesse?” I don’t know why I’m surprised. “Wait, are you wanting me…”
“No, no, no,” Chrissy waves off whatever I was going to say. “No, this is different. This is for me. It’s like…I want to want to have sex with my husband, but right now I’m not there. But there was a little while there when Jesse liked it when I really took charge, like, on the verge of real kink shit. And I really got off on making him my little bitch. Maybe a little ménage à trois will spark something, you know? Like, forcing—that isn’t the right word, but you know what I mean—forcing him outside of his comfort zone will be the thing that makes me want him again. I also like the idea of being the focus of a threesome.”
“In my experience, a good three way is an equilateral triangle.”
“It will be! Jesse gets to fuck me, which he’s been dying to do. You and I get to be together openly around him instead of pretending like we’re platonic roomies, and maybe he will stop looking like he’s gonna throw up when we’re in the same room. We’ll overwrite that with sex.” She licks her lips exaggeratedly. “Yum yum.”
“This sounds exhausting.” Now would be a great time to offer to “help” soften Jesse up to the idea, but for some reason I’m feeling possessive of what we’ve done to each other. What he used to let me do to him.
Chrissy leans forward conspiratorially. “Think about it, though. Can you imagine Jesse, if I asked him to blow you? Oh my god. He’d be so mad, but once his dick is hard you can basically get him to agree to anything.”
On that we could agree.
“What about getting me to agree to have Jesse blow me?” Not that I wouldn’t jump at the chance, but there are a lot of assumptions swirling through this conversation.
Chrissy waves an elegant hand. “You told me, like, ages ago that your type is pretty. Just pretty. You can’t deny that Jesse’s gotten very pretty over the past few months.”
“I’ve matured since then.”
“Oh, so now your type is pretty and broken?” she asks, gesturing at herself. Which makes me laugh, because she’s not wrong.
I match her posture, putting my elbows on the table. “If he agrees to it, I’ll do it. But you have to actually talk to him about what you want, first. And you and I are getting tested.”
“Ugh, fine,” Chrisette agrees cutely, and toasts my wineglass.
Jesse stirs and lifts his head to blink sleepily at me.
“Good morning,” I say softly.
He smiles. “Hey, gorgeous.”
Then I wake up. Jesse and Chrissy are arguing in the kitchen using their don’t-wake-the-baby voices. I take my time getting out of bed, go check to make sure Seth’s actually asleep, and wander in to see what the big fuss is this time.
I laugh. “Seth’s probably in that camp. He says ‘Da da da da’ a lot, and you can’t tell me that’s the best a one-year-old could do with my name. Sorry to his dad, who’s a good guy.”
September
“Todd.”I straighten up from where I’ve been leaning on the shopping cart, letting Seth pull on my hair.
“Sasha. You’re looking well.”
It’s true, she’s as sleek and gorgeous as ever. Her sharp gaze lands on Seth.
“Is this Chrissy’s kid?”
“Da! Da! Da da da da!” Seth babbles. He does love a pretty lady.
“Yeah, this is Seth.”
She nods with a downturned smile that I know means she’s judging me pretty harshly. “Wow.”
“Oh, it gets worse,” I chuckle. It’s a relief to be able to say it out loud. “I live with them. We sleep like the grandparents in Willy Wonka.”
Sasha’s thick red hair cascades behind her when she throws her head back to laugh. “Are you fucking kidding?”
“Nope. I’d love to pretend like you should have regrets, but no. You were right about everything.”
“Including Jesse?”
“Hah. Well. That one’s maybe worse than either of us thought.”
Her eyes go wide. “Oh shit. You like him.”
“Oh, hi!” Seth says, so I don’t have to reply.
October
“Have you ever had a threesome?” Chrissy asks me one night. We’re two glasses of wine in after a “family” dinner that I basically bribed her to stay home for.“Yes,” I reply carefully.
She looks delighted. “More than one?”
“Yeah.”
“Was it fun?”
“Mostly. Can be awkward at times.”
“I want us to have one.” She gestures at the bedroom where Jesse’s already asleep. I guess it was another hard day for Babe.
“I can’t see your husband going for that,” I told Chrissy. The guy who can’t wrap his head around his own sexuality isn’t going to do well with a threesome that I’m part of.
Chrissy gives me a playful look over the top of her wineglass. “You think he’s going to say no to me? Nobody’s fucked him in a year. He’ll be desperate.”
“Is that part of it for you? Making Jesse do shit he’s uncomfortable with?”
“One hundred percent,” she answers easily. “But that’s always been part of our relationship. Like, he used to need lights off, missionary only, no foreplay because what if he did it wrong…I basically sculpted him into a decent lover. This is just the next step.”
That didn’t sound like the guy who happily got fucked on the side of a dirt road, but I believe her.
“Someday I’m gonna top him,” Chrisette muses aloud.
“You want to peg Jesse?” I don’t know why I’m surprised. “Wait, are you wanting me…”
“No, no, no,” Chrissy waves off whatever I was going to say. “No, this is different. This is for me. It’s like…I want to want to have sex with my husband, but right now I’m not there. But there was a little while there when Jesse liked it when I really took charge, like, on the verge of real kink shit. And I really got off on making him my little bitch. Maybe a little ménage à trois will spark something, you know? Like, forcing—that isn’t the right word, but you know what I mean—forcing him outside of his comfort zone will be the thing that makes me want him again. I also like the idea of being the focus of a threesome.”
“In my experience, a good three way is an equilateral triangle.”
“It will be! Jesse gets to fuck me, which he’s been dying to do. You and I get to be together openly around him instead of pretending like we’re platonic roomies, and maybe he will stop looking like he’s gonna throw up when we’re in the same room. We’ll overwrite that with sex.” She licks her lips exaggeratedly. “Yum yum.”
“This sounds exhausting.” Now would be a great time to offer to “help” soften Jesse up to the idea, but for some reason I’m feeling possessive of what we’ve done to each other. What he used to let me do to him.
Chrissy leans forward conspiratorially. “Think about it, though. Can you imagine Jesse, if I asked him to blow you? Oh my god. He’d be so mad, but once his dick is hard you can basically get him to agree to anything.”
On that we could agree.
“What about getting me to agree to have Jesse blow me?” Not that I wouldn’t jump at the chance, but there are a lot of assumptions swirling through this conversation.
Chrissy waves an elegant hand. “You told me, like, ages ago that your type is pretty. Just pretty. You can’t deny that Jesse’s gotten very pretty over the past few months.”
“I’ve matured since then.”
“Oh, so now your type is pretty and broken?” she asks, gesturing at herself. Which makes me laugh, because she’s not wrong.
I match her posture, putting my elbows on the table. “If he agrees to it, I’ll do it. But you have to actually talk to him about what you want, first. And you and I are getting tested.”
“Ugh, fine,” Chrisette agrees cutely, and toasts my wineglass.
November
I have a dream that we’re in bed in the morning. Of course there are giant songbirds flying through the room and somehow I know we’re on the roof of an office building, but it’s my sheets and my pillows and my view of downtown. Jesse’s head is on my chest and I’m running my fingertips over his skin. It’s warm enough that the breeze doesn’t raise a single goosebump. This should be forever, I think.Jesse stirs and lifts his head to blink sleepily at me.
“Good morning,” I say softly.
He smiles. “Hey, gorgeous.”
Then I wake up. Jesse and Chrissy are arguing in the kitchen using their don’t-wake-the-baby voices. I take my time getting out of bed, go check to make sure Seth’s actually asleep, and wander in to see what the big fuss is this time.
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