Equal Shares Ch. 38bysteveh11©
"So, Stan, you think you're up to looking after two women's needs, again?"
Stan snorted. "Not if it's going to be like last night all the time, Denise. I'll have to hire in help!"
"Yeah, right. Try it and see where it gets you. Although…"
Stan stuck his tongue out at Denise, who blew a raspberry in return. They both laughed at one another.
They were sitting at Stan's breakfast bar drinking coffee. Denise had brought in some cereal, and they were both eating a bowlful. Last night had been, well, tiring for Stan, but enormous fun and yet deeply emotional, too. Denise had been hurting, and Stan had done his best to relieve that hurt. He grinned. He thought he'd relieved it multiple times…
But now they had to go to work. Stan got up, grabbed the bowls, cups and cutlery and quickly washed them up. With two women to please, he'd quickly found that keeping the place tidy was preferable to having both of the women in his life jabbering at his ear. Denise wiped them dry and Stan put them away. He turned to see Denise regarding him with a smile, then she leaned in and gave him a kiss.
"Good boy," she told him. Stan grinned back.
"So," she said as they put their coats on, "Anne on for tonight?"
"Yes, provided she's not working so late she decides not to bother."
Denise looked at him, carefully.
"Stan? Are you all right with what Anne's doing?"
"Yes. No. Well, yes, I understand that she's working a lot, but what I don't see is why."
"Hmm?" she asked him as they went out of the front door.
"I mean, I know she's got a project she's overseeing at work, but, well, the other project managers don't seem to have to put in the hours Anne is, especially at home," he answered, locking the door.
"So do you think there's something wrong?"
"With her project? I don't think so, the other people in her team aren't miserable enough."
Denise smiled and said "No, she'd be making their lives hell if it wasn't going right. I guess we'll have to ask her?"
"Ask Anne? Just like that?"
"Got a better idea?"
Since Stan didn't, he kept silent. He just wasn't sure he wanted to ask a bald question like that of Anne.
Later that morning Stan went to see Anne. He found her busy at work as usual, along with her staff.
"Hi Anne! How are you today?"
Anne turned to look at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark circles around her eyes. She looked sallow, drained, but there was a fire in the core that was not only hot, but hotter. Anne was doing what she did, working flat out with a goal in mind, Stan knew, and was well on top of it. He just didn't know what it was.
"Oh, Stan, hi, love. I'm fine, and you?"
"I feel better than you look, Anne. You look shattered. You're working too hard. Coming over tonight?"
"I'll try to, Stan, I really will. I should be over for about nine o'clock, I expect. Will that be okay?"
Stan smiled and said, "Of course, Anne. I'll look forward to seeing you then."
In the event, it was half past eight that night when Stan got a call from a distracted sounding Anne.
'Stan? It's Anne. Look, I won't be able to make it tonight after all."
"Anne, are you sure?"
"Yes, Stan. I'm sorry, but I really have to concentrate on this for a bit longer tonight. Sorry"
"Well, okay, love. I'll order an Indian meal and mope all alone without you. Just joking!"
He wasn't entirely joking. Anne knew that.
"Oh, Stan. I'm really sorry, but I can't leave, I just can't. I can't even explain why, just now, but I will soon, I promise."
"All right, Anne. But I'll hold you to that. I love you Anne, and it's hard for me to watch you run yourself into the ground like this. If you say you're all right, I'll go along with that. For now."
"All right Stan. I love you. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
- - - - - - - - - -
Denise came over and once more offered to cook for Stan the next night, but Stan demurred, taking her out to a quiet restaurant to eat instead. They enjoyed their time together, then went back to Stan's place.
Stan let Denise in and followed. He watched as she took off her coat and without pause continued by undoing the buttons on her blouse.
"Stan, you're going to catch flies like that!" she chided him, and he quickly tried to catch up. Then he stopped.
"Denise, I'm just spellbound. I just want to watch you."
Denise had the last button in her hand, her lacy bra in plain sight, the breasts that Stan loved to see, so much, barely confined. She looked at him, undid the button and spread her arms wide.
"You do say the nicest things, Stan. Have you been practising?" she asked him with a lopsided grin.
Stan replied by simply moving forward, engulfing her in his arms, drawing her in tight and kissing her, hard. His hand trailed down to her ass, pulling her into him there, and she ground her crotch against his. Their kiss grew even more passionate and then Stan, realising that he wasn't going to rise to the occasion, pulled away, looking down.
Denise lifted his chin with one finger. "Stan?"
"I'm sorry Denise. I-I just can't."
He was stricken when she threw her head back and laughed for a moment, but then she sobered and said, "Stan, I'm not laughing at that, I'm laughing at your face! You look as guilty as a little boy caught with his hand in the sweet tin! C'mon, let's go sit down for a minute or two."
She took his hand and led him into his living room. Stan followed, unresisting, but he couldn't help the flush of embarrassment and guilt that he was feeling. Denise dropped down on the sofa and drew Stan down next to her, then turned to face him.
"Stan. Don't worry so! You're a man in your forties, you're not exactly super-fit, though I have to say you look pretty darn good in comparison with some of the guys at work! We've both had some drinks tonight, which is why we agreed to take a taxi – and you're surprised when, once in a while, you have a problem? I know you love me, just as much as you love Anne, and having sex isn't all there is to love, is it Stan? C'mon, we've both – actually, we've all three – read many of the same books. What was it? 'Love is what goes on when you're not having sex'."
Stan's lips curled up slightly into a semblance of a smile. "I thought it was 'Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own'. But that's my point, I want you to be happy, to make you happy, and I couldn't. Can't," he finished, looking down.
"Dope! How many times have you made love this week?"
"Last seven days? I lost count," he replied.
"There you go! How many men your age could make that boast?"
Stan smiled at his redheaded companion, beginning to see the humour in the situation. "I told you I'd have to hire in help," he teased, and she elbowed him in the ribs.
"Not bloody likely. Take me to bed, we'll cuddle and go to sleep and let's see what comes up in the morning!"
Stan woke up to find the room still dark, but a warm, wet, wonderful feeling on his cock. He reached down and lightly ran his fingers over Denise's face as she sucked and massaged him, stroking with her hand. He was hard, and Denise lifted off his dick long enough to say "Look what came up…" before dropping her head down again, slowly, teasingly taking him deeper than he'd known her do before. She pulled back again, with a slight gasp, and told him "I wish I could deep throat you, Stan, but I can't. I'd so love to, but I think I can still please you – and me, I love giving head!"
Stan continued to run his fingers around her face, sometimes running her hair through his fingers, as Denise built him up and held him just short of release. She held the base of his penis tight until he was better in control and once more resumed her lovemaking. Over the next several minutes she did this again before finally she kept him going, sucking, swirling her tongue, drilling it into his prick and working him with her hand in earnest. She felt his penis swell and took just the head into her mouth. Stan gasped as his climax arrived, feeling it draw from his toes and fingertips, through his balls and finally surge into Denise's mouth. She made a small cry at the first spurt but she kept sucking lightly, now avoiding his oh-so-sensitive head.
When he'd completely finished cumming and started to soften Denise cleaned him with her talented mouth and tongue before crawling up his body and kissing him. He felt her pass a little of his cum to him in the kiss and was startled for a moment, but then kissed her deeper – it was an act of love, meant that way and received that way. Finally she rolled off him, and the two of them lay next to one another. Denise rubbed her jaw muscles with the fingers of one hand.
She turned to him and asked, "Enjoy?"
"Like you need to ask!" he got out. He knew he was smiling, though Denise wouldn't see that very easily in the near dark.
"I guess! Well, when you've got yourself back together, how about a return game?
"Happily, my love!" he told her.
Many minutes later Stan had used his mouth, tongue and hands to drive Denise to two orgasms of her own before she pushed him off, saying "Stop, Stan, I can't take it, stop, stop…"
It was his turn to crawl up beside her, and he kissed her. She kissed him back through the aftershocks, and afterwards he realized that he'd done the same to her as she had to him – she'd tasted herself. He asked her, "You okay with that, Denise?"
"You think I've never tasted pussy before, Stan?" she asked with a smirk he could hear, even if he couldn't see it properly.
"Well, yes, but your own?"
She took his hand and dipped his finger down. She gingerly passed it through her pussy lips and pulled it back up to her mouth, sucking it in.
"There's nothing objectionable there, Stan. I love the taste of pussy, mine or someone else's. You do, too."
"Hmm. You're right, I do."
"Pig!" she told him, but her hand on his face was gentle, and she kissed him again, this time with gentle love rather than raw passion. "We'd better get to sleep, Stan."
Stan groaned, but he knew the truth of it. Denise rolled over so she was spooning against him, and he put his arm over her, resting it on her abdomen. Within minutes they were both, once more, asleep.
- - - - - - - - - -
The next morning was a Saturday. Stan and Denise had enjoyed a lie-in and were just finishing breakfast when his phone rang.
"Hello, Stan, it's Anne. Is Denise with you?"
"Hello and good morning, Anne. Yes, she is, why?"
"I think I need to speak to both of you. Meet me for lunch?"
"Certainly, Anne, Where?"
"Could you both come here? It'd be easier."
Stan grinned, even though he knew Anne wouldn't know.
"Chinese takeaway for three, then."
"Oh, you! But yes, you're right, some sort of delivered food would probably be best. If you don't mind?"
"No, that's okay. When do you want us over?"
"Give me a couple of hours, please?"
"Okay. Denise and I will pick up some food. Anything in particular you want?"
"As long as it's hot and got calories, I'll eat. I'm starving already!"
"See you then. Bye, love."
"Bye, Stan. I love you too." She broke the connection.
Stan looked over at an amused Denise.
"She wants us over there for lunch or dinner?"
"Lunch, Denise. In a couple of hours."
- - - - - - - - - -
Two hours later Stan was walking up Anne's path to her home, Denise following behind. He was carrying enough Chinese food to feed four. Anne had sounded hungry.
He rang the doorbell and waited a moment, then the door was opened by an exhausted but happy looking Anne.
"Come in, come in!" she said, and Stan followed Denise into Anne's house.
There wasn't really room for three in Anne's little kitchen, not without bumping elbows anyway, so Stan was sent into her lounge. He was once more idly picking through her bookshelves when Denise bustled in with a plateful of food and some cutlery. She put it on Anne's coffee table and said, "Wait a minute – we won't be long!" before returning to the kitchen.
Stan looked around. The room wasn't exactly untidy, just not quite to Anne's usual standard. There were a couple of coffee mugs over by Anne's usual chair, and a pizza box was propped up in the corner. Stan frowned. Anne was normally too precise to leave things like that lying around.
Eventually it seemed to Stan that his lovers were never coming back He sat down on the small sofa and looked longingly at the food. Just then Anne came in, a piece of chicken already in her mouth, with Denise trailing in close behind her. Once the food was set in front of them the three set to with gusto, none more so than a ravenous seeming Anne.
In between bites of food they talked, mostly inconsequential stuff.
But not for long.
"Well, what do we think of this alternate days thing?" Stan asked.
"I think it's good!" answered Anne, hastily swallowing a pork ball. "I just wish I could do it."
"Well, if you didn't work all day and all night you probably could, my love." Stan told her.
"That's okay, Stan, I can take the days that Anne can't." interjected Denise. Anne did not look too happy about the idea.
Stan noticed. "Anne? Something wrong?"
Anne looked a little afraid, as if she'd been caught. "Huh?" Then her face went blank for a moment before her brow furrowed. She said, "Look, we're supposed to be as open with each other as possible, yes?" The others nodded. "Well, I'm not entirely comfortable with Denise simply 'taking' the days when I can't come over to Stan's. I know it's silly, and irrational, and believe me no-one hates that more than I do, but it's actually what I'm feeling."
Denise put down her cutlery and reached over, taking Anne's hand. "Honey, I'm not trying to take your place. Honestly I'm not. I'm just trying to look after our man."
"I know, Denise. I never said it was sensible, I said it was irrational. That doesn't stop me feeling it."
Denise smiled. "Well, what do you suggest, Anne? Do we give Stan time off for good behaviour while you're too busy, or too tired?"
But Anne flew. "Now, hang on a minute, Denise! I tried to say it plainly and diplomatically. I never said we should leave him alone, just that I don't think you should simply assume you can take over!"
Stan looked at the two most important women in his new life and closed his eyes. He imagined Caron looking at him, waving a finger, saying 'You got yourself into this, you know!' He shook his head to clear it.
"Look, you two, stop!" Both ladies turned to look at him. Anne looked a bit surprised at Stan asserting himself, Denise looked slightly amused.
"I don't need pampering six or seven days a week, and I'm not sure I can keep up the pace with both of you after my body all the time!" He smiled to take the sting out of his words, and lowered his voice to a more normal level. "That doesn't mean I don't enjoy your company, of course, and I sure as hell enjoy the sex! But I'm not entirely sure even a teenager could keep up with the pace you two would like to set! Take it easy."
Denise had relinquished her grip on Anne's hand, so now Stan reached out and took one of each in his own.
"I love you both to death, but you'll kill me if you act like this, darlings. Please, let's not bicker?"
He turned first to Denise. "Denise, I'd love to have you come over, whenever you like, but it's not fair to simply assume that if Anne's not here you should be. You know better than that, anyway. Communicate. Ask Anne how she's feeling, first, maybe."
"And you, Anne," he continued, turning to her, "it's not like you to fly off the handle like that, love. You're tired, I know. Take a deep breath. You did the right thing to bring up your fears like that." He looked closely at her. Apart from a pair of delightful red spots high up on her cheek as she blushed, Anne looked pale, drawn, exhausted.
Stan was more and more intrigued about Anne. She was busy enough to be doing two jobs. In fact…
"Okay, Anne. What's the deal? Aside from the fact that we've hardly seen you for a week, what's got you so busy-busy all the time?"
"Hmmph," she replied around a mouthful. She swallowed hastily, and breathed in to cool her mouth. "I was telling Denise out in the kitchen that I was missing the both of you. Well, now I'm going to tell you why. It's what I wanted to talk to you about, anyway."
She leaned forward and looked at both of them.
"I was contacted a little while back by my old tutor and mentor, Sid. You remember him, Stan?"
"Of course. What did he want?"
"My brains. He's come up with an idea and thinks I can help him. If it comes off, it could be big. Big enough that I might go and work for him, and leave The Firm."