Rules of the Game

'There won't be any rent!" Steve broke in.

"--your utilities—"

"Your groceries!" somebody else chimed in.

"You can forget every paying for clothes again," Richard said. "We're picking up everything."

"Especially your underwear," Mike added, laughing.

"All of your lingerie," Nick said. "You'll have the best stocked drawers in the state or California. The whole fucking country for that matter, Lisa."

"And..." Richard said, stretching out the word tantalizingly. "We will be footing the bill for the rest of your college education. You'll never have to worry about tuition, student loans, your car, anything, ever again. We'll even set you up in practice."

I blinked, my mouth open in horror. "No!" I objected. "You can't do that!"

"Try and stop us," Robert said, his first words on the subject.

I was aghast. I was flabbergasted. I was appalled.

"No!" I cried again.

"Yes!" everyone else cried back.

I just shook my head, and kept shaking it.

Steve said, "Think of it as the benevolence of eight old men."

"The insanity, you mean!" I contradicted. This was worse than anything I had imagined, anything I could have imagined. I would be the ultimate, kept woman. "No, no, no, no, no, no," I denied. "I'm not doing it."

"You don't have any choice," Steve said, grinning fiercely.

"What do you mean, I don't have any choice?"

"If you're going to be our house guest, you will do it by our terms and conditions. And our terms and conditions are that we take care of you."

"Steve—" I savagely shook my head.

"We are taking care of you, sweetie," Jim said, squeezing my hand. "That's the bottom line."

"But the money—" I choked out. We were talking thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars. My student loans were already up to $88K and I was only in my second year. How could they afford this?

"Lisa. Do you know how much I'm worth?"

I stared at Gary dumbly.

"Sweetie, I own a chain of auto parts stores throughout 12 states. I'm rich. I'm so rich I could afford to keep you as our mistress all by myself."

"Don't use that word," Nicky warned.

"I'm sorry." He was contrite. "I meant to say our house guest. The point is; these weekly poker games of ours were nothing more than an excuse to blow off steam and spend a little pocket change. Lately--the last two years or so--they were an excuse to see you every Friday night. Why did you think we were coming here? For the view?" He waved his arms at the open windows. "Baby, we were here for you."

"Don't called her 'Baby'," Nick said in irritation. "Her name is Lisa."

"I know what her name is, you moron. I wrote it on four checks this morning, paying off her student loans."

I wasn't the only one who stared at Gary.

"What?" I gasped. Everybody else started talking at once, some of them yelling.

Gary held up his hands. "What's done is done."

"But how could you know?" I demanded, though I wasn't sure exactly what I was demanding. Gary took the question literally.

"I knew these assholes planned to send those videos. I had a pretty good hunch of the outcome. I wrote the checks to make sure you'd know we were serious in our commitment to you."

"I'm picking up half that tab," Mike said angrily.

"Count me in too," Richard growled. They both looked like they might go across the table at any moment for Gary's neck. Gary shrugged it off.

"What's done is done. You want to help out, feel free." He turned his attention to me. "I'm an asshole. Everyone knows I'm an asshole. You know it. I know it. I promise you though, Lisa, I won't ever use my wealth or my benevolence, as Steve calls it, to worm anything out of you. If you feel like taking me to bed, that's great; if you say no, that's your privilege too. I won't ever pressure or try to blackmail you. You have my word on that. Before God and my countrymen," he joked, grinning.

To his shock, and to mine and everyone else, I rose out of my seat, leaned across the table and made it abundantly clear I wanted his mouth. He met me in the middle for an extended, passionate kiss. I finally broke away, due mostly to the hoots and catcalls and cheering and sat down again, blushing madly. My nipples, damn them, were trying to puncture my shirtfront.

"Was that a yes?" Gary croaked, red-faced for the first time in my experience.

"That was most definitely a yes," I acknowledged. I wiped my lips unconsciously, self-consciously, damning my stupid nipples. That kiss had raised my blood pressure fifteen points. Twenty points maybe. You should have felt my heart pounding.

"It's decided then?" Gary asked. "You accept our offer and our terms?"

I nodded solemnly.

"Then by the power invested in me by the great state of California," he intoned judiciously, "I now pronounce us, men and...house guest."

Insanely, all the men laughed and cheered.

* * *

It was a few minutes before 4:00 AM. We had finished our round of beers, myself downing my two; Nicky and Mike had brought out another round. I put cold bottle to my overheated forehead, saying: "I want to thank you all for what you're doing for me. I guess, in some ways, it's every girl's dream." I took another sip of beer. "Let me tell you though, Gary, you surprised the you know what out of me. I thought you were an asshole. I still think you're an asshole," I added, generating a round of laughs, "but you're my asshole, and I love you for it." I set the beer down and slid back in my chair. "Therefore..." I took a deep breath. "I'd like to invite you and Robert and Bill, all of you, back into the bedroom for a foursome."

The cheering began again, striped through with laughter and guffaws and barbs and digs and protests. I only grinned, feeling my face shine like a lantern. Gary chuckled; Robert took slaps on the back and punches on the arm, which Bill did also. Mike and Nick couldn't help looking a little put out.

"Or..." I said, quieting the hubbub immediately. "I can go with you one at a time, two at a time, two and two if you'd rather—" I held up my hands to quell the protest. "In which case, one of you would have to leave me midway through for the sake of the other, or I can be with you all at once, like I said."

"Which would be better for you, Lisa?" Gary asked.

I thought how to word it. "I'm tired," I said. "I've had sex for the last six hours. I'm sore, I'm achy, I'm probably pretty ripe right now." I listened to denials, grinning. "I don't know if I could manage three of you all together." I raised my hand to stop Gary's protest. "I know I don't have energy to satisfy all of you one at a time. That would take hours. I wouldn't want to disappoint or dissatisfy any of you. My best bet, I think, is to be with you all at once, the added arousal and excitement would be a catalyst to help me get through it all." I looked at Mike and Nicky and blushed. "I know it worked with them, so it would work with you, also. If you want me that way." I shrugged, leaving it up to them.

No words were spoken. Gary looked at Robert, who looked at Bill, who looked at Gary, and with a few nods and a shrug, a decision was made. Gary, followed by Robert and Bill, arose from the table. He extended his hand in mock invitation across the table and I stood up, still holding Jim's hand, which I dropped reluctantly. It didn't look like Jim would be the last to get me after all. Unless I fell asleep is his arms afterward, because I knew I'd have no stamina for a last coupling. Not after Gary and Robert and Bill.

Taking my arm, Gary led me to my bedroom with Robert and Bill close behind.

This was a month. I now reside alone in the house formerly occupied by three. Matt and Chelsea were evicted the same week they returned home from their weekend fling. They don't live together though. Chelsea returned to her mom's and Matt bunked in with a friend, Tommy, whom I can't stand. Evidently they don't get along now. Illicit sex was the attractor between them, I guess, and take away the illicit portion and sex no longer had the same attraction. I hear they blame each other for the eviction. I hear they scream at each other whenever they talk on the phone or see each other face to face. Steve told me Chelsea had a black eye last weekend. I wish I had blackened her eye.

Steve's really pissed at Matt and has threatened to beat the poopy out of him. I wish he would. I wish all eight of my benefactors would gang-jump the SOB and beat the poopy out of him. Or gang-rape him; that would be better. I wonder if I could convince them to do the same thing to Chelsea.

Of course, I could never ask that.

I don't like being alone. The house has a creepiness factor that I never noticed before. The only time I feel safe is on Friday nights when the guys are here, or whenever Steve or one of the others drop by. Which, unfortunately, is not that often.

In the beginning I envisioned myself having sex every night of the week. Last week, I was with Bill once, and Jim once. That's it. Steve dropped by Tuesday and Wednesday nights, but it was only to talk about my schoolwork and help paint Chelsea's old bedroom. I thought for certain he would take me to bed, if not Tuesday night, then certainly on Wednesday...but he didn't. And this weekend he abstained from having sex with me on the overnight. I don't know what to make of it. I don't know what to make of the guys avoiding me during the week like they do. But then again, I have to remember that, with the exception of Nick, all my guys are married. I sigh, and picked up the phone when it rings.

"Hey, Lisa. It's Nick."

"Oh, hi Nick," I say, brightening.

"Mike and I are in the neighborhood. I thought we might drop by."

Instantly, my heart pounds. "Um, sure," I say, trying not to sound as ridiculously excited as I am. "Where are you?"

"Open your front door, darlin'."

Laughing, I get up and walk to the bay window and sure enough, there are Mike and Nick on my front door stoop. Nick has a paper grocery bag tucked in the crook of his left arm; Mike has a plastic bag dangling from his hand. I wonder what they brought with them. I wonder if they brought condoms. Condoms are the one thing this household doesn't need anymore. I have a year's supply of condoms. I go to the front door and open it.

"Wow! You look good tonight," Mike says. He ogles the front of my T-shirt. I am minus a bra and of course my nipples are making themselves known to him. I giggle and close the door behind him.

This is the first time Nicky and Mike have visited me since the first week. I'm a little embarrassed. I hadn't expected company. My hair's a mess and I'm wearing cut-off jeans long overdue for the trashcan. Worse yet—this would have been unthinkable my first or second week alone in the house—I have not shaved in three days and both my armpits and my legs have stubble. Thank God I'm a blond. Oh, and I didn't take a bath today.

Mike kisses me and squeezes my right shoulder. Nick kisses me right afterward and the three of us walk in the direction of the kitchen. I'm dying to ask them questions. They have no idea how frustrated I am, how full of self-doubt. Yes, the guys have sex with me all night Friday, and twice now as late as 8 o'clock in the morning, but they leave me alone the rest of the week and I can't help but feel like the forgotten mistress. I want to know why.

In the kitchen Nick removes a six-pack of Heineken from the paper bag and sets it on the counter. Then he removes a second six-pack and sets this one beside the first. Then he folds the bag and slips it in the slot between the refrigerator and the cabinet, along with the dozen or so other bags stored there. Beer is another thing well stocked in this household, but I like the fact that they brought it with them. That feels personal to me. I wonder what Mike has in the plastic bag and feel foolish when I find out. The smell should have told me right away.

"Chinese!" I enthuse, clapping my hands. "Oh, goody. I love Chinese."

Mike and Nick both laugh at me. I grin ear to ear and bounce on my toes like a little girl. I feel like a little girl, showered with presents. Mike and Nick are so good to me.

"You two are so good to me!" I gush, kissing them both on the cheek. Laughing, Mike rumples my already rumpled hair and then reels me in for a long kiss.

Mike and Nick together are still my favorites. Though I've had all the others in just about every combination--twosomes and threesomes and foursome and even a fivesome (Mike told me last Friday the others plan to gang-bang me en masse, the instant I lose my clothes this Friday night, which I look forward to insanely) Mike and Nick together make me feel like a make-believe princess. I love being with them. I haven't been, other than Friday nights, since that first week.

Nick pops the lids on three beers and hands them out. I take a sip of mine, watch Mike unload his bag and distribute the various containers and bowls around the kitchen table. It smells so good. Not like I smell. I really need a bath.

Nick puts his arm around my waist and walks me to the table and has me sit down. Mike has opened all the containers and what I see before me is General Tso's Chicken, Wonton soup and two spring-rolls. I feel all giddy inside, like being on a first date.

Mike says: "Glad to see us?"

"Am I ever!" I admit. I want to yank off my tank top and grab their hands and drag them off to the bedroom. I blush at the thought, and my stupid nipples ache like being pinched. How could I be so horny, I wonder? After what they did to me only five days ago? But then again, it's been five days and I am smack in the middle of my cycle. I have to be ovulating tonight, and Insanely, I want to get pregnant. I want Mike or Nick to knock me up and let me run barefoot and naked in the house for the next nine months. Twins run in my family too; my sister Jenn has twins, so maybe I'll produce two eggs this month and the boys can each fertilize one. Thinking this really makes me red. And breathless. And squirmy. And bashful. I feel my shoulders hunker in on themselves, as Nick, who hasn't sat down yet, puts a hand on my shoulder.

"We want to talk to you about something," he says.

I half look up, afraid to let him see my plum-purple face. "What about?" I ask.

"Bill thinks you're lonely during the week. Is that right?"

I can't answer the stupid question I'm so abashed. And fearful. And intimidated. They say the most important questions are the hardest to answer. I gulp, loud enough to be heard.

"Why'd he say that?" I ask.

"Are you?" Mike wants to know.

My damned face keeps getting hotter and hotter. I don't say anything, of course. I clasp my hands in my lap and fight not to wring them. Why should I be so embarrassed to answer the question? It's what I want, to get this question answered. What's the matter with me?

Nick says: "I have the feeling boys and girls are looking at this from two different directions. Lisa, we leave you alone during the week because of the atrocious way we treat you on Friday nights. Steve told us to keep the hell away. Mostly we do. None of us are capable of doing the right thing by you completely, though. I know Bill and Jim both paid you visits last week, and I know you went to bed with them both. You went to bed with us, the first week. That's when Steve dropped the hammer on us, when he found out Mike and I had paid you a visit."

Mike says: "Jesus Christ he was mad. 'You don't think we did enough to her last weekend? You have to invade her privacy during the school-week too? For God's sakes, fellas, think what that girl must be going through! We gang-fuck her and then pick her off any time one of us feels horny. What do you think that does to her? She must feel like a brothel whore. Available any time someone wants a piece of ass. Leave her alone, godammit!' "

Nick laughs. Mike has perfectly imitated Steve's gruff voice and demeanor. I understand now why Steve spent Tuesday and Wednesday night with me last week; to keep the others away. He was protecting me. My eyes tear up. Sweet Steve, I think. It is also the reason he declined to have sex with me the past weekend, I bet.

"God," I moan. "I don't deserve you all." I explain quickly how miserable I've been, how lonely, how insecure, how dejected. "I'm about to go crazy!" I complain. "Being with you one night a week, and then being ignored every other night of the week. Imagine what that does to me, guys!"

Tears spring in my eyes and overflow my lids onto my cheeks. I wipe them away with a miserable sob, using the heel of my hands. Nick drops into a crouch beside my chair and wraps his arms around me, puts my head on his shoulder.

"We'll talk to the others," he says.

"Thank you." I sniffle softly, rubbing my nose. Mike is there also. He takes my hands and squeezes them with his own.

"I'm staying with you tonight. I'll stay with you every night if that's what you'd like," Nick offers.

Mike snorts. "Sure you will."

I shake my head. "Tonight is fine, but I don't want you going out of your way just to make me happy."

Mike laughs and shakes his head. "Talk about altruism. Baby, you've got the world's supply all locked up. You need to think of yourself for a change, instead of others."

"I do think about myself," I protest. "I'm thinking about myself right now."

I stand up and peel the tank top off over my head and let it drop to the floor. I undo my shorts and let them fall to the floor around my ankles. I push my panties down to my knees and let them fall to the floor as well. I step out of them and say: "You can eat dinner, or you can eat me." I turn and head toward the bathroom door. "I'll need a shower and I might need help with making myself presentable in other ways. And tonight...?"

I turn to face them in the open bathroom door. I raise my hands and clutch the doorjambs at shoulder height, and pose fetchingly. I have one more thing to tell them. About condoms.

From their suddenly wide-eyed expressions and sharp intakes of breath, and the way they make a beeline for me in the open doorway, I believe they accept my invitation.