9781618857569GettingitAllStorm (20 page)

“Ever thought about saying, '
Hey
, ladies, you
all want to have one big happy screw?
Together.
Just the three of us.'
Except much more diplomatically,
of course.
You know, like telling Ms. Brunhilde she should shove that
Olds off a cliff.”

“
Brunnie
loves that Olds and I do too. And
besides, it runs like a top. Sometimes you can't tell how well a car runs by
the way it looks.” He thought of Lucy.
Classy.
But
nobody expected her to run like the latest model whatever. She would be too
inexperienced, they’d think. He'd bet most of the people who knew her would be
stunned at the way she was shaping up in bed, and half the time he and Lucy
weren't even in bed when they did it. He had wanted to mention how adventurous
Lucy had been getting to Dot, but somehow, for once in his life, that didn't
seem smart. He kept his mouth shut. “If I could think of a diplomatic way to
suggest what I want to suggest,” he laid it out, gathering their discarded fast
food wrappings, “I would have,
musclehead
.”

Clay scooped up the empty beer bottles. He seemed thoughtful. “Which
is what, exactly? What do you want to suggest?”

Matt thought hard. “Uh...I thought I made it clear.”

“You said you weren't in a threesome and yet you want to keep both
ladies. You've got them both now. What do you want to have differently?
A cheating clone?”

“Uh...”

The triumphant masseur pointed a finger.
“Daffodil.”
Quirking a full lip, he patted Matt on the cheek, then pinched it, then charged
from the lookout outcropping back down the short path into the picnic area to
dump their garbage.

“What the hell does that mean?” Matt yelled, spreading his hands in
frustration.

“It's like that paint job of mine,” Clay said, swinging his T-shirt
overhead at having thought of so clever an analogy. “I was thinking one thing
about the color—make it as bright and chic as possible. My so-called potential
customers were thinking another, as Mr. Smart Butt here pointed out—make it as
familiar as possible. So they could work up to the idea of my massages slowly.”
He tapped his forehead in a follow-my-thinking gesture. “The three of you have
been doing it separately, right? Now you just want to move up to doing it
together, right? C'mon, let's take this trail.” He guided Matt. “The website
says it's the best for sunsets.”

“Aw, man, it's higher,” Matt groused.
“My poor
thighs.”

“Yeah,” the young man grinned. “Those thighs are getting a workout
these days.”

Matt chuckled, trudging behind, huffing up the trail. “I assume the
paint thing will eventually make sense?”

“You're daffodil. The girls are mahogany.”

Matt leaned against a tree. The trail was indeed steeper and more
rugged than the path to the boulder outlook.

“Meaning I'm getting too ahead of the game—daffodil—by wanting them
both, when I should try letting them work up to the idea themselves—mahogany?”

For his efforts, he received
a thumbs
up from
a beaming Clay.

“Now you owe me one.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know that cute dude in your shop?”

“All the dudes in my shop are cute. That's all I hire. They get fat
and
slobby
later.”

“Waco.
The lanky Texas drink of water.
Talk
him into getting a massage.”

“Clay, he's straight.”

“Yeah?
So are you.”

Matt was dragging in deep breaths, clawing at the enveloping trees for
a handhold, hoping to God they were almost there.

“You let me massage your dick,” Clay reminded him.

Suddenly, they came out on the landing, higher on the mountain, facing
in a slightly different direction. He had never been to the spot before. The
view was breathtaking.
Space.
Air.
Miles of forests and farm-filled valleys backed by receding
mountains melding into the late-afternoon sky.
Totally,
awesomely breathtaking.

“That was different,” he managed to answer Clay, taking off his shirt
and letting the cool late-afternoon air wash over his heated torso. “Your hands
on my…me…we worked up to that slowly.”

“I'll make it different with Waco,” Clay grinned. “I can be patient.”

“You'll get smashed, man.” Matt was truly concerned for his friend.

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“A boyfriend.”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Buddy knows all and tells me all.”

“Then
nobody'll
get hurt but me. Waco will
get some great sex and be happy and I'll get my heart broken because he'll only
want me for my sexual expertise.”

“Clay, I don't want you to get hurt.”

“Well, gee whiz, big daddy, that's fucking sweet.” He slipped his
muscular frame behind Matt and hugged him close as they stared at the
sun-streaked landscape, slowing melting into burnt
golds
and grayed blues. “Not too many people pay that much attention to my lousy
choices. Thanks for caring.” He kissed Matt on the cheek.

“Stop that, you pervert. What would the town biddies think?”

“Do we care? Some of us are just more demonstrative than others.” He
took Matt's earlobe between his soft lips and gently nibbled with his perfectly
whitened teeth.

It was nice, Matt had to admit. Clay's mouth on his ear was nice. As
was his finely sculpted muscles pressed comfortingly against Matt's naked back.
But he preferred Dorothy...and Lucy. No offence to Clay. The soft golden
mountains in front of him were as awesome as their golden breasts and soft
hips.
All miracles of nature.
The streaks of light
grew longer. The blue-gray shadows deepened, elongated, and fused together. The
gold slowly, slowly morphed into dusty russet.

“Have you got a boner? Are you shoving a hard dick against my ass?”

“Sorry. I was thinking about Waco.” Clay started to pull away.

Matt tugged him back, holding the strong, muscular arms firmly around
him.

“Oh, so you like this man cuddling stuff, huh?” the young man asked,
slyly.

“I'm starting to get chilly. You're warm.”

“I'm hot.”

“So I've been told.”

“You got it figured out? How you’re going to handle the ladies?”

“I'm working on it. You can go back to that ear thing, but don't get
any ideas. I know where your nuts are.”

“Now who's being a pervert?”

“A
menage
,
huh
?”

“A trois.”

“Okay, then you
suggest
it to 'em, smart
assed, French talking, city massage dude.” Maybe it was the sunset, maybe it
was his groin, maybe it was the thought of getting everything he wanted, maybe
it was the comfort of having a singularly good buddy’s powerfully protective
arms around him to know that if he screwed up royally at least he’d have someone
to cushion the shock when he fell flat on his ass.

“No, that'll be your job.
To ask nicely.”

The sun set.
The sky erupted in rays of afterglow and
underlit
clouds of pink and mauve and 24-karat gold. Matt
felt an ineffable surge of hope. His chest swelled.

“I'll get right on it. Thank you, Dr. Ruth.”

“Dr. Who?”

Matt chortled, breaking free. “Put it in a search box, you uneducated
whippersnapper.” He charged down the mountain trail, swinging happily from one
precarious handhold to the next.

“Search box!”

* * * *

“No!” Dorothy wailed, instantly breaking into choking tears. “No! No!”

Matt recoiled as shocked as she was. They were happily entwined on his
bed. He was still in her, more or less. How on earth could she have gone from
cozy post-coital completely happy to instant hysteria frantic when he hadn’t
even finished his little prepared speech?

He held her tight.
Pressing his waning self deep as
she sobbed into his shoulder.

“Everything was so perfect,” she wailed. “How could you? Why couldn’t
we just keep going the way we were?” Angrily, she pulled back to pound on his
chest. “Lucy! Lucy! Lucy! Damn her!” Racking sobs overtook her anger. She
collapsed into him again.

He held her tighter.
Unsure of what to do.
At
least by holding tight he wouldn’t let her fly apart. He wouldn’t fly apart.

“No, that’s not true,” she gasped, appalled at her outburst. “I love
Lucy. Forgive me, Lucy.” Her tone hardened. “I knew you’d pick her. She’s
perfect for you. I’d drive you crazy.
You bastard.”
She slugged him again. Then re-clamped
herself
around
him desperately.

Deep inside her, he was getting hard again.

“Uh…sweetie?
I didn’t pick Lucy. I just said we needed to
talk about her.”

“What do you mean you didn’t pick her? You pick me? That’s ridiculous.
We’d kill each other.” She snuffled grotesquely. Matt began to get her drift.
“Then why the hell bring up Lucy when we’re in the middle of making love?”
Dorothy demanded. “That’s pretty lame. Have a little respect, for God’s sake.”

The doorbell rang.

“Uh…that’s maybe Lucy.”

“Maybe?
You told her to come here?
Now?”

“Well, it’s not exactly like you two don’t know what our schedules
are. You pretty much laid them out for me.” He was desperately trying to remain
serious. She was definitely serious.

The doorbell rang again.
Twice.

Dorothy began to wiggle out of his arms.

“No, let’s meet her like this. This is what it’s all about anyway.”

“What? Let her find us here on the bed? You’re sick.”

Hey, he flustered her.
So far, so good.
Grabbing Dorothy’s legs, he pulled them around his hips, locked his arms around
her back and slid them both off the bed.

“
Aaagh
, what are you doing?” She was
startled, annoyed…and beginning to get into it.

He
lurched
the both of them upright, pulling
her tightly to him, and lumbered into the living room. “Damn, woman, you are
a fulsome
lass.”

Dot began to giggle at his struggle to keep himself inside her, while
she herself, legs locked around him and wide-eyed at the prospect of what they
were about to present to the poor unsuspecting Lucy, struggled to hang on as
Matt waddled to the door, which she had to swing wide since his hands were
occupied holding up her bottom.

“
Ohmigod
!”

Thank God it was Lucy.

The young woman dashed inside, shutting the door quickly behind her.

“Are you two…what
?...
are you drunk? Or just
being silly?”

“Just disorderly.
And being silly,” Dorothy grinned as Matt
swung her around so she could bend down to kiss Lucy on the cheek. She stared
at her friend for a moment. Suddenly her face contorted and she buried her sobs
against Matt’s shoulder.

“Dorothy! What’s the matter? Matt, have you…?”

“My back’s killing me,” the carrier of the sobbing burden complained,
backing into the sofa and slowly sitting. “Oh, God yes, that’s better. Somehow
that looked a lot more fun on the computer than it is in real life. I have got
to get to the gym more often.”

“Is there some kind of problem?” the young woman asked, averting her
eyes. “Uh…do you guys have to stay like that? Like…stuck together? I mean, am I
interrupting something?”

Matt began to laugh.
Heartily.
Dislodging the sniffling Dorothy from his chest.
“Take off
your clothes, Lucy, and come sit with us. We three need to have a little talk
and nobody should have an advantage.”

Lucy caught her breath.
“Oh, no.
This
isn’t…you haven’t decided
?…
I mean, we’ve hardly had a
chance to…”

“You two dames will be the death of me,” Matt bellowed. “Please sit
down, clothed or not. I’ve got something to say.”

“There’s no reason to yell at her,” Dorothy snapped, sitting up and
adjusting her hips in Matt’s lap, while stretching her legs to either side.
“There. That’s better. Lucy, dear one, since I’m not about to leave my current
position until forced, take off your clothes and join us while we learn our
fate.”

Hesitantly, demurely turning her back, the young woman slipped out of
her business suit. She peeked over her shoulders.