Tara & Steve Ch. 02byAugustMacGregor©
Chapter 2: Valentine's Day
Seeing Claire, I knew it couldn't have been a coincidence. No way that she would've shown up in the same restaurant as Tara and I did. Of all the nice restaurants in town, she just happened to pick the same one as us? And on this night, of all nights?
Not a chance.
This was on purpose. My mind raced for schemes. For a crazed instant, I thought Claire had followed Tara and I to the restaurant. But no—she was here first. Hanging out at the bar. Then approaching us as we entered the restaurant.
"Happy Valentine's Day, honey," Tara said, laughing at my perplexed face.
A big, ole' smile was on Claire's face. "Hey guys," she said and hugged Tara.
Claire hugging my girlfriend? What the fuck was going on?
Let me explain. Tara is my girlfriend. This past December, she and I went to a Christmas party that surprisingly, incredibly turned into an orgy. We met Claire at that party. When I met her, I was blown away—literally and figuratively. She gave me a blowjob, and then I fucked her on the coffee table. All while other couples fucked around us. Including Tara, who was fucked doggystyle by Stefan, the well-hung host of the party.
Turned out that some people in the party had been swingers. They usually held separate parties just for swinging fun, but their mixed party had accidentally ignited into an orgy by drunken Ralph, who dipped his dick in the eggnog, swung it about, and yelled for satisfaction. By the end of that crazy night, Tara had fucked two guys, and I had fucked two women. Evie Stevie, as Tara likes to tell me.
Crazy shit, huh? Even now, that evening seems like a dream. But Tara assures me it wasn't a dream. Two people can't have the same dream on the same night, right?
The morning after the party, Tara and I reminisced about the orgy. She told me that she had seen me fuck Claire on the coffee table. Then the two of them had met up and talked.
Also, I confessed to her that Claire and I had swapped phone numbers. I figured I had better come clean. Tara and I had moved in together the summer before the Christmas party. I was in love with her, and didn't want to mess it up by going behind her back to bang Claire after the orgy. Swapping numbers with Claire was spur of the moment—I was caught up in the excitement. Even though Claire was very bang-able, I didn't want to ruin a good thing with Tara.
This was the first time I lived with a woman. And I loved the immense amount of sex. Before we lived together, we mostly had weekend sex. But now, we had sex all the time. After work. Before work. It's a beautiful thing to bang your girlfriend, and then head into the office. I'd chat with my co-workers, all the while basking in the afterglow of an orgasm.
Thankfully, the Christmas holiday party orgy didn't break us up. Each of us had fucked two other people. That's huge. To swingers, it might be no big deal. But to a couple who recently moved in together, it was huge. Tara and I talked about it a lot. Both of us confessed to jealousy—but also feeling excitement.
"Was that our last orgy?" I had asked her in one conversation.
She had given me a sly look. "You never know. Surprises can happen."
Yeah, surprises can happen. Like seeing Claire on a date that I thought was going to be just Tara and me. Tara had picked the restaurant for our Valentine's date. Turned out that it was part of her plan. What had Claire and Tara cooked up?
So let's get back to Valentine's and the restaurant. Claire and I hugged, and she felt really good. Scenes of the Christmas party orgy flashed in my brain: me eating her out, her sucking my dick, her laying on the coffee table as I fucked her pussy and another dude fucked her mouth. I remembered Claire's face as the other dude came inside her mouth. I remembered Claire yelling in ecstasy as I gave her two orgasms—one by cunnilingus, another by my thumb rolling her clitoris while I fucked her wet cunt.
As Claire and I broke our embrace, she said, "Good to suck you again, Steve." She gave a little laugh. "I mean, see you again."
Both women laughed. Huh? My girlfriend laughing at Claire's slip-up about sucking? Dare I dream there was more to this than drinks and dinner?
"Good to, um, suck you again, too," I said.
"Oh, you wish," Tara said with a grin.
A third woman arrived. A pretty chick holding menus. "Everyone here now?" she asked Claire.
"Yup," Claire answered, and the hostess led us to our seat.
I haven't taken a chance to describe the restaurant. It was a trendy place, the kind of hip place that the cool crowd flocked to. The walls were dark brown, softly lit by pockets of red-tinged lamps here and there. Candles on tables flickered. Lots of couples sat at the various tables, and I wondered what people thought of our group of three. A little different for a Valentine's Day date.
The hostess led us to booths along a wall. Each booth had a curtain that stretch across the opening, which gave it a thin separation from the dining room. The curtains were red and opaque, like a veil you could partially see through. A bridal veil over a face. Or scarves twirled by a belly dancer.
The hostess parted the curtains so that Claire, Tara, and I could enter the booth and settle on the cushioned seats. Above the seat backs were glass divider walls separating us from other booths. With the glass dividers and the curtains, we had our own semi-private little world from the people around us. The opaque curtains let in teasing amounts of sights and sounds from the restaurant. Enough to remind us that we were in public.
Claire and Tara took their seats first, and they sat together on one side. I took the opposite seat to face them. Which was great, since I got to view both of the lovely ladies.
I haven't really described them, have I? Let me take a moment now.
Tara is pretty, with light brown hair and blue eyes. She has shown me pictures of her as a blonde, and she had a deep tan. She looks good that way. She said she went through a phase when she went blonde and had a tropical tan every summer. Now she's in a natural phase, and leaves her hair color alone. In the restaurant, it was swirled up and clamped in the back in the fancy way she likes when she dresses up for a nice occasion. She wore a black crushed velvet dress that plunged low to show titillating cleavage. A black choker necklace decorated her throat.
I have to come clean and admit that Claire is the prettier of the two. My girlfriend is certainly no dog, but Claire is flat-out gorgeous. My girlfriend will make men give her a second look. Claire will make them stop and stare. We're talking model hot.
Claire's hair color was a lustrous auburn with darker streaks here and there as the waves of her hair cascaded over her shoulders. Paired against her auburn hair were her bright blue eyes that were lighter than my girlfriend's.
Claire's skin was creamy and soft with a smattering of freckles sprayed across her nose. This was the Irish/Scottish-type of skin that you knew would easily sunburn. I remembered how good her skin felt back at the Christmas party. Smooth, soft, sensuous. The crowd of freckles across her collarbones. Her creamy breasts jiggling as I thrusted into her.
You could see some of the freckles across her chest with the dress she was wearing. She matched Tara in the fabric of crushed velvet, but Claire's dress was deep purple. Soft, plush fabric. I wanted to caress the curves of her dress, then rub my body against her warm skin.
Man, these ladies were lovely. A guy couldn't ask for better dinner partners. Well, there were some movie and porn stars that I could've asked for, but let's not get crazy.
"Just so you know," Tara said. "We're in charge of ordering the food."
"Why's that?" I replied. "Are you going to order something nasty that I have to eat, like on some reality TV show?"
"Hardly. Just going to make it a little fun."
As if on cue, a voice outside the curtain said, "Excuse me." We could see a silhouette on the other side of the red opaque curtains.
"Yes?" Claire asked.
The silhouette parted the curtains, and our little semi-private world became less private. We could easily see and hear the other people out there. The silhouette turned out to be a waitress, who introduced herself and asked for our drink order.
"Cosmo champagne cocktails," Tara told her. "For all three of us." She shot me an amused look.
"Got it," the waitress replied.
"And we'd like to order appetizers now," Claire piped up. "Calamari and a dozen oysters. Raw." Her turn to shoot me an amused look.
"Sure thing," the waitress said and left, closing the curtains behind her.
Raw oysters. My fantasies for the evening were becoming more like pretty good possibilities. Another clue in the line: Claire's suck you again comment, the enclosed booth, and now raw oysters. If Claire wanted me to eat oysters to simulate cunnilingus, then I was more than game. I had eaten her out at the Christmas party, and I was very willing to do it again. Just as willing to fuck her sweet pussy again.
I told myself to not get ahead of myself. Don't assume a threesome was in the cards.
"It's awesome to see you," I told Claire. "And it's a big surprise. I didn't realize that you and Tara had talked."
"We sure did," Claire replied. "Now I know all your secrets." She looked like a cat who knew the door to the birdcage was going to be opened, and all she had to do was wait for the bird to fly out.
"Well, not all of them," Tara said. "Just the really good ones."
"The juicy ones?" I asked with raised eyebrow.
Claire and Tara glanced at each other, and then Tara said, "That's right. The juicy ones."
I saw the silhouette appear outside the curtains before I heard the waitress say "Excuse me," and open the curtains. She passed around our drinks: classic martini glasses containing pink liquid in which two cherries floated. Claire and Tara laughed at my face. I guess it could've been worse—the two cherries could've been speared by a little plastic penis.
"Enjoy," the waitress said. "Appetizers coming soon."
I took a sip as she left. The drink was bubbly and not as sweet as I thought it was going to be—it wasn't a syrupy sweet frozen daiquiri.
"Not bad," I said.
Claire fished out one of the cherries in her glass and placed it between her lips, holding the cherry in place. She looked at Tara the whole time. Tara leaned toward her. They kissed. On. The. Lips. Oh. My. God.
Back at the Christmas party orgy, I had seen my girlfriend get fucked by two other guys (at different times). My reaction had been complicated. I was anxious, jealous, and disappointed. Yet, at the same time, an erotic thrill had tingled through me—I liked seeing Tara get pleasure.
Now, with Tara kissing Claire, my reaction wasn't complicated at all. I felt none of the negative emotions. Just the erotic thrill. My cock raged at my pants. I longed to sink my dick into them. A vision flashed in my brain: our three naked bodies intertwined and undulating.
Seemingly in slow motion, the women kissed. Slowly. Not a frantic rush to shove tongues into each other's mouth. No, this was an easy roll of glossy lips taking their sweet time to enjoy the other lips.
Yet again, the two ladies laughed at my reaction. First, by being offended by the girly Cosmopolitan champagne cocktail. Then thunderstruck by their kiss.
"I have an idea," Claire said. "How about we tell stories about our worst Valentine's dates? I'd like to get to know you guys better."
"Sounds fun!" Tara chirped.
"Um, okay," I said. I wasn't thrilled about the idea. I just wanted them to kiss some more.
"Oh, you'll have fun," Tara replied. "I'll start. You've heard this story before." She was looking at me. "So don't worry, this isn't some crazy thing I'm dumping on you. So. This was several years ago. I hooked up with a guy at a New Year's Eve party. It happens, right? Everybody's partying, in a good mood. So this guy—Brett—and I hooked up. Did the cheesy kiss at midnight—all that."
"Happens to all of us," Claire said.
Tara continued: "We started dating after that. It was okay, nothing special." She smiled at me. "Not like my stud over there." I couldn't help but smile. "But this guy was so persistent. He always wanted to do stuff with me. Not just dinner and movies, but all the time."
"The suffocating type," Claire remarked.
"Yeah, at times it was stifling. I wanted to spend time with friends, you know? And here was this guy wanting to spend all his free time with me. I had to say no to him over and over. And then Valentine's Day rolls around and of course he wants to go out. He was a nice guy when he wasn't so annoyingly persistent. So we went out, he takes me to a nice restaurant. Afterward, he wanted to take a walk on the beach. Okay, sounds good. It's romantic, and it's Valentine's Day, right?"
"Of course," Claire answered.
"So we're on the beach, and then he gets down on one knee. I'm like, 'Oh my God, is this really happening?' The guy actually proposed to me. Can you believe that? I mean, c'mon, we knew each other only a couple of months."
"So what did you say?" Claire wanted to know.
"I tried to be as nice as I could. Let him down easy. I told him we hardly knew he other. He said he knew me well enough to know he was in love with me. This guy was something else. He got real upset when I said, 'no.' Couldn't understand why I'd deny him."
"Can you blame him for being upset?" Claire asked. "Piece of ass like you?"
Tara, laughing, said, "Flattery will get you everywhere."
"I hope so."
Tara grinned a big grin and purred, "Mmm-hmm."
Two silhouettes appeared, with one waitress pushing the curtains apart, and the other—our original waitress—sliding the appetizers on the table. The oysters gleamed in their juices. The meat sat on half-shells, which rested on a thin bed of ice chips.
"Dig in, lover boy," Claire said.
I blushed a deep crimson as my dates and the waitresses laughed. "Uh, yeah," was all I could manage to say.
It got worse when Tara ordered seared tuna for me and steak for her and Claire. The waitress had a huge smile. One wondered: Was she imagining me having a threesome with Claire and Tara? Her imagining a threesome made the order less embarrassing. After all, I was the lucky stud who was going to bang the two hotties. At least, I hoped so.
As the waitresses left, I also hoped they were going to share the oysters and tuna comments with the other wait staff. Let them all imagine these hottie and I were going to partake in a ménage a trios.
"Okay, my turn," Claire said. "This one Valentine's, I got set up on a blind date. Last time that's going to happen. I've had a couple of okay blind dates—and one that led to a blisteringly hot fuck. But a blind date on Valentine's is just asking for it. This guy—I can't even remember his name. Let's just call him Dumbass."
Tara giggled, and I ate an oyster with a loud slurp. Both ladies watched intently.
Claire continued: "So Dumbass and I have dinner. He acts like he owns the place. Struts around, hair's all gelled and perfect, expensive suit. I know it's expensive because he tells me how much he paid for it."
"Mm-hmm," Tara said. "Don't you hate those guys?"
"Yeah. Seriously. And it didn't stop there. He goes on and on about his job. He's in stocks or bonds or something. I can't remember exactly. He acts like he's the biggest swinging dick on the planet. But he's really the biggest Dumbass."
"Mm-hmm," Tara said and giggled.
The hottie redhead went on with her story: "But I stick around 'cause it's a really nice restaurant, and the food is amazing. At least I got a great dinner out of it."
"So chicks do that," I said. "I knew it." I ate another oyster.
Claire replied, "Of course. Some of you guys are hard to put up with. A free meal is payment. Simple as that. So back to Valentine's. Dessert comes, and he really goes into it. Asks where I work out, 'cause it totally shows on me. He can tell I've got a rocket body. Oh, and by the way, he works out, too. All the time. Has rock-hard abs. He goes on and on."
"Mm-hmm," Tara said.
"It's ridiculous," Claire said, "how much bullshit this guy piles on. I figure I've got to come up with some excuse to get out of the situation. I've got to nip it in the bud before he tries to move the party to his place. No way am I going to bang this Dumbass. So I excuse myself and go to the bathroom. I wait a while and go back to the table and say I'm not feeling too good. Maybe it's something I ate. Don't know. But I'm getting queasy. It comes in waves."
Tara laughed. "That's too much."
"Did it work?" I asked around a mouth full of oyster.
"Of course," the pretty redhead replied. "He didn't want to take me home. Not after that. As bad as he wanted to fuck, he didn't want to do it with a chick who could've puked her guts out."
"Mmm-hmm," Tara said. "Smart move."
Wait. All of Tara's mmm-hmm's were making me suspicious. She kept saying that during Claire's story. I knew the type of voice she was using. She wasn't just agreeing with Claire. No, this was different. Deeper. These were sensual mmm's that my girlfriend would murmur when I went down on her or stroked her.
Hold on. I hadn't seen Claire's hands in a while. Or Tara's hands. Something was going on here. Purring mmm's and Tara's dreamy face and no hands above the table?
I leaned down and checked under the table.
There it was. Spread legs and hands busy between them. Two sets of pussy lips seemed to smile at me—as if amused from holding the secret from me. Tara and Claire were getting each other off. No panties were in sight. Both had worn dresses, and they must've pulled up easily for handjob access.
I surfaced above the table to find the two ladies wearing enormous grins. Just as I'd imagined their pussies doing.
"Holy fuck," I breathed.
"Yeah," Tara said. "And I'm very close."
I ducked under again to see Claire's fingertips stroking the top my girlfriend's pussy. Hitting the sweet spot of the clitoris.
Sitting back up, I saw Tara close her eyes and push her lips together tightly. A sound came out that could've been a grunt or her clearing her throat. There was the face I knew well. I had seen that when going down on her or massaging her clit as I fucked her. She bared her teeth in what I guessed was the peak. My heart pounded as I watched her in fascination. My boner pushed against my pants. In a few moments, Tara's face relaxed. Her eyes opened. She took a big gulp of her champagne Cosmo.
"Wow," she gasped.
Claire followed soon after. I enjoyed watching her expression as she rose to the climax and rode the waves of pleasure, finishing up with a big drink of her cocktail.
Their hands returned to the tabletop. Instead of drying off their hands with their cloth napkins, the women licked them clean. Slowly. Their glossy red lips puckered up around each finger. Holy fuck, man. Two women simulating fellatio on their fingers that were slick with pussy juice? I fought the incredible urge to unzip my pants and stand on the table and demand a blowjob. The women polished off the remaining oysters.
"Did you guys do that before tonight?" I had to ask.
"She wanted to," Tara replied. "But I didn't want to do that behind your back."
"She's devoted to you, lover boy," Claire said.
I beamed from this display of Tara's love and devotion. My love for her had grown since we moved in together, and I was greatly impressed that she invited Claire to join us for Valentine's.
"Sweetie," I said to my girlfriend, "we need to hit the alley out back. I've got a huge hardon I'd like you to take care of."
"You haven't creamed your pants yet?" she asked.
"Almost," I confessed.
Claire turned to Tara, asking, "Okay if I handle this?"