White Ribbon

My thanks for Cantdog for encourangement, suggestions, and help straightening out the curves.

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I let myself in with the key Gail had given me, and made my way upstairs to their apartment. I knew they wouldn't be home yet, which made it stranger somehow. No matter how many times you've been in someone else's flat, it's never the same when you're there on your own. I kicked off my wet shoes in the entrance hall, hastily burying them in the pile of boots and sneakers that had collected beneath the coat rack. What to do with the raincoat? No idea. Couldn't leave it there. I balled it up and made a mental note to find a plastic bag in the kitchen. I'd stuff it into my backpack and hope for the best.

The candles and wine were right where Gail told me they'd be. The matches, however, weren't. I felt stupid for not bringing my own. Awkwardly rummaging through their utility drawer, I was once again disappointed in myself for never having taken up smoking. I don't like the smell and can't stand the taste, but I'm eternally jealous of people who can always put their hands on a lighter.

What to do, what to do? Panicking about unlit candles seemed preferable to worrying about the next stage of preparations. Ah ha! It was a gas stove. Popped that baby on, got the first candle lit and did the rest from there. Gail could get the wax out from under the burner herself; teach the silly cow not to leave me matches when she asks me to light the candles. Thirty-five candles in all, that part I still remember. The stubby little guys mostly, with two long table candles and a handful of tea lights. Most of them got scattered around Gail and Rich's bedroom, the tea lights lit a path from their front door to their bed. I decanted the wine, placed the glasses on the dresser, and took a deep breath. Not a lot I could do to put off the next part. Time to get dressed. For reasons I still can't explain, I headed for the bathroom to change instead of staying in the bedroom, wondering aloud how I'd gotten myself into this.

How did I get myself into this? I guess it depends on where you start counting. It could've been the day Gail and I met at a dance in the student union. It could've been the day we were much too drunk and trading "things I want to do before I'm 30" lists. But most likely it was the day we were wandering around London looking for something Gail could give Rich for his 35th birthday. Bored of old music shops, I finally just asked, "what the hell does the guy want?"

Rich was Gail's boyfriend, and, as a gainfully employed soon-to-be-35 year old, we thought he must already have all the material possessions he could ever want. Certainly better things than Gail's student budget could stretch to. "Usually, sex." was her reply.

"Well, I can't really help you with that, can I," I shot back, replacing an old saxophone on a stand.

Which was when she snorted out a laugh and said, "oh, I don't know…if you did help with it, I'm sure he'd count it as his best birthday ever." We didn't think much more about it that day, but we certainly didn't find anything else to fit the bill.

The next step must have been not quite a week after that. We were in Gail's apartment drinking what had to be our fourth bottle of wine when the subject came up again. Rich was out at a friend's gig, we had the place to ourselves. We'd spread out across the living room floor. Movies, wine, munchies, and the remote control all somewhere lost in the detritus. We were at that stage of the night where furniture seems too complicated and lying on the rug is by far the most attractive option.

"I want to update my list," she said out of nowhere. Very Gail-like.

"What list?" I'd asked.

"My 'before I'm 30' list," she said, rolling over on her side to reach the current bottle for a refill.

"Go on then, what have you accomplished this week that I don't know about."

"No no no, I don't want to tick something off of it. I want to add something."

"Really? I don't know, Gail…it's a pretty sizable list, you're already going to be pretty stretched to do it all in the next 9 and a half years," I teased.

"Maybe. It's your fault anyway. Before I turn 30," she raised her glass as if making a toast, terribly serious, "I want to have a threesome."

"Oh for fucks sake, Gail…that's already on your list…I thought this was going to be something interesting."

"You didn't let me finish! Being in bed with two guys is on my list. I still want that, but now, I'd also like to try it with another girl."

And how, precisely was this my fault? I wondered silently. Sure, Gail had seen me dancing with girls in clubs, flirting, and a couple of lucky nights going home with one. She'd even been brave enough to flirt along with me once or twice. At least, I'd thought she was just being brave. "What brought this on?" I asked warily.

"Oh, lots of things" she said, sitting up and leaning against the front of the sofa. She crossed her legs and I noticed, not for the first time, that they were long, lovely, and toned. "I just want to try it, see what it's like. And, you seem to like them."

I rolled over on my stomach, and looked at her. "I like guys, too. Also tequila over ice cream. But I haven't seen you leaping to try that taste treat. I still don't get the sudden interest."

Gail got quiet for a moment, "just that since I've gotten to know you, I've been having fantasies, imagining…well, the girls you're with. What you'd do, what it'd be like. What it'd be like if I was with them. And it's, well, I want to know." Gail was a little flushed by now, I'd embarrassed her and I shouldn't have. God knows I'm the last person who should make someone else feel awkward for wanting to try something new. Feeling bad, I moved to refill her glass, peace offering. "And," she continued, drinking deep and getting her stride back, "since I don't want to cheat on Rich, it'll have to be cheating with him."

"All right," I accepted her return to playfulness, "it's official. Before you're 30, you'll have at least two threesomes of various sexual makeups. The record has been duly updated." I rolled back onto my back, awaiting Gail's next random subject of conversation.

"Another reason it's been on my mind," she started, apparently a subject change was not in the cards, "was that afternoon last week."

"What afternoon?"

"The one when we went shopping." She looked at me; I just looked puzzled. "For a present? For Rich?" That afternoon? What about that afternoon would she be...hang on…then I remembered 'the conversation'. If I helped he'd be thrilled. This couldn't be leading where I thought it was leading. I had made a pass at Gail that first night we'd met, and she turned me down sweetly but flatly. So this couldn't be going in that direction. Period. There was, therefore, no reason that my heart shouldn't start beating again. My recognition must've shown on my face because she stopped talking. When I didn't say anything, she shyly offered, "I still haven't found Rich a present."

Oh god.

I don't remember what I said next. I wish I did. I really wish I did. It must have been some sort of noncommittal affirmative: an "if we did this, how would you want to go about it," answer.

She said that she'd want to surprise him. I think she honestly believed I should jump out of a cake. No chance. We decided the best thing would be either for me to flash him at the front door, a plan that involved me making my way through the London underground in a trench coat, or for me to already be in the house in a state of semi-dress when they got home from 'elsewhere.' Gail wanted desperately to spring it on him, and didn't want to have to explain what she was asking for. She was just going to tell Rich that his birthday present was waiting for him in the bedroom. A half naked girl on their bed was supposed to be explanation enough.

So here I was. Candles lit, clothes off, pulling on white stockings and clipping them to a lacy garter belt. Why white? Gail's choice. She'd bought the outfit, and said she'd be wearing a matching one in red. Wince-worthy to me today, but at the time it seemed cute. I was already wearing the matching "why bother, these aren't hiding anything" panties, with a matching demi-bra. Looking at myself in the mirror, I decided the bra was merely decorative. Nothing this tiny could offer the least bit of support. But bless young bodies, I didn't really need much then. Still I felt silly. I kept tugging the cups up, the lace barely came up over my nipples, and I was pretty sure a deep breath would pop me out altogether. Gail had underestimated my size, but it was too late to do anything about it now.

Looking in the mirror, I cursed my short legs. Stockings made them look shorter, and I certainly wouldn't have chosen white ones with sparkly bits up the legs! But Gail thought it'd contrast well with the black coverlet on the bed. Ah well. Maybe white wasn't such a silly idea after all, I liked the way it looked against my tan.

I let my hair down, fluffed it, fussed with it, and gave up on it. It always did its own thing. I vamped up my makeup, and then reached into my bag for the bit of costume even Gail didn't know about: a yard and a half of two-inch wide velvet ribbon. Nothing says "birthday present" like a great big bow. It was tougher to tie around my own neck than I'd expected, but I had time. Eventually I was all decked out and ready for my debut. Which is when the butterflies really hit.

What the hell am I doing here? I silently demanded of my reflection. Which is when the little voice in the back of my head gave me the perfect advice. The answer simply came back: anything they want.

See, what was worrying me was that Rich hadn't been consulted on this one. He and Gail had talked, in jest, about bringing playmates to bed, but not seriously, as far as I could tell. I didn't want to be sent home, if for no other reason than that I would never be able to look Rich in the eye again. But I didn't want him to be pressured into doing something he didn't want to do. OK, there was a big dose of "what if he doesn't want me" insecurity in there, but that wasn't all of it. I didn't want to be part of something that wound up messing up their relationship. I knew Gail depended on Rich to be the level headed one in the relationship, to keep her crazy schemes from going too far. But we were doing everything in our power to unlevel his level head tonight, and if this turned out to be a mistake, who was going to stop it? But that message from the back of my head had given me my answer. Tonight, if I could manage it, was going to be about them. I was going to have one hell of a good time, and I was going to have a story I could tell forever. But I wanted this experience to bring them closer together.

Which is when the car horn blew, my signal that they were home and I was to get into position. No time for second thoughts. Oh please please don't let him think I'm a tramp! God, don't let her back out now. I curled up on the end of their bed, facing the door, my legs crossed under me and what I hoped down to my stockinged toes was a seductively playful smile on my face.

I heard the car door thump shut. I heard muffled voices on the stairs. I heard the front door open and close. I think I was holding my breath. I heard Rich's deep voice ask: "were we expecting candles?" I heard Gail's speaking, but I couldn't make out the words. Then Rich said something that included the words "sweet," "love" and "plotting." Finally, the bedroom door opened.

At the look on his face, I stopped smiling and started laughing. I'd never seen such a picture of utter shock before Whatever he'd thought Gail's plot was, this hadn't been it. I started breathing again as his gaze moved slowly from my face, to the bow around my neck, to my breasts, my belly button, my knees, and off to my toes. His eyes snapped back to my face as I said "Happy Birthday, Rich." What else does one say? He spun on his heel to confront Gail, at which point I was pretty sure I was going home. But the look of surprise was going to have made my evening more than worthwhile, so I didn't mind any more. Who am I kidding, I minded like hell! I wanted everything this night had promised and then some, but I wasn't going to push.

When Rich turned to face Gail, he found she'd upped the stakes. She had her shirt off and was standing in the hallway, bold and brazen, in a red lace push-up bra, leather pants, and high heels. I dare any man to disagree with his woman when she's looking like that. I decided that I really should be elsewhere for the next part of the conversation. I stood up, collected two glasses of wine, handed one to Rich on my way through the bedroom door and told Gail: "I'll be in the front room." I thought he could stand another little teaser, though, so I caught his eye as I kissed Gail on the cheek and gave her ass a little squeeze. What I hadn't expected was for Gail to turn her head and catch my mouth in a sweet and sensual kiss. My knees definitely wobbled as I moved to the living room to await my fate.

It wasn't long before I heard my name called, and I started to wonder if I might be staying after all. I had a big smile on my face as I slowly walked back towards the bedroom. Rich's eyes followed me as I moved down the hallway, brushed past him at the bedroom door, and sat down on the bed resuming my earlier "birthday present" pose.

"Do you want this?" Rich started to ask, "I mean, Gail tells me that this isn't just something she wants to do for me, that she's, that she wants you in our bed." Gail blushed prettily, and I started to wonder just how long this fantasy of hers had been going on. "I need to know what you want…" Rich continued. He's a lovely man, but a bit pedantic at times. "I mean, do you want…do you want me…" my gaze switched from Gail's blush to what I was charmed to see was his.

Gail thinks Rich looks like Harrison Ford. He doesn't, but I understand where she gets that. He has that rugged look that an entire generation of women were trained by Hollywood to find sexy as hell, me included. His face looks terribly serious until he smiles, his chest makes any female with sense want to be held. Besides, I'd had impure thoughts ever time this man answered the phone; his voice was thrilling. "Yes," I said…and it came out much more breathily than I had intended.

"And Gail?"

My friend. Short dark hair, pixie face, incredible long legs and, I now knew, the loveliest little round tits in creation. "Of course I do," less breathy, but very sure. She glanced up, caught my eye and smiled.

"Are you sure."

Damnit, he was going to be at this all night. I stood up off the bed, walked over to where they stood in the doorway, sank to my knees in front of Rich, lay one hand on the buckle of his belt and said "please." In my book "oh god" usually means yes, so I started undoing his belt. They just watched me until I had unthreaded it from the loops and tossed it in the corner. Then Gail came down onto her knees next to me, stroking my bare back with one hand while she set about getting rid of that ridiculous bow with the other. Rich just stood there watching us, and for the first time that night, smiled. Happy smile. Oh boy, I thought as that one look sent chills through me, this is going to be good.

I caressed the bulge in Rich's jeans with one hand as I undid the button and lowered the zipper with the other. Gail had finished with my bow, and was kissing my neck and throat, her hands running across my stomach, sides and back. She was driving me wild. I suddenly remembered this was the first time she'd ever touched another woman. She was discovering the way our skin feels, a realization that intensified the thrills she was drawing out of me. I could've drowned in them, but that would've defeated my purpose: bringing them closer to each other through me, through my body, through this night. So I looked up at Rich's face and told him what she was doing to me as I lowered his jeans and helped him step out them. I reminded him that this was a first for her. I told him that my first night with a woman, I'd had the same fascination; I couldn't get over how soft, smooth, heavenly scented a woman's skin can be. I made sure he knew she was driving me crazy; but I let him realize for himself that even though Gail had me in heaven with just a hand on my midriff and another snaking under my bra strap, I was still very interested in getting his clothes off. No one was getting left out of this for a moment if I could help it.

When his boxers went the way of his jeans, his gorgeous cock sprang free right in front of my face. It took an act of will not to suckle at it immediately. Instead I feasted my eyes on something I'd never even hoped to see before Gail's brave request, smoothing my right hand over his ass and down the back of his leg, using my left to lift Gail's hungry mouth from my neck and turning to draw a kiss from her. I still remember how soft her lips were, how wonderfully she tasted, how the kiss seemed patient and promising and passionate all at once. I was on fire, and that girl wasn't even in a hurry yet? I'd fix that soon, but not right away. It was Rich's birthday after all.

I broke the kiss and turned Gail's head to the twitching cock in front of us. "Show me?" was all I asked, but she understood and smiled. She put out her tongue and brushed it beneath the tip, the lightest of touches, as much breath as contact. Then she moved back so I could mimic the motion. Gail's second lick started in the same place, but this time went up and over the top, ending with her lips sealing themselves around the head. She shot me a look that was half triumph and half challenge before relinquishing her position for my turn. I decided not to mimic this time. Instead I leaned in close, balancing myself with a hand on Gail's thigh that made her jump and smile a little bit more. I ran my tongue in a slow circle around the rim of his helmet before pulling it into my mouth, giving him a quick suck, and releasing him to Gail's ministrations. As far as I could tell, she was inching him into her mouth this time, sliding him over lips, and, given the sounds he was making, doing something very interesting with her tongue. I started working my hand up and down along her leather-clad thigh and dropping open-mouthed kisses across her shoulder. Her quiet moan with his cock half in her mouth made him gasp, and the way he instantly gripped both of our heads, twining fingers into our hair, made me giggle. Gotta love chain reactions.

When Gail freed Rich for my turn, I decided to give him a little taste of relief. I slid my mouth all the way down his shaft and pressing the head of his cock against the back of my throat, which was precisely the moment Gail moved from stroking my leg to brushing her fingers across my barely concealed pussy. I'd have gasped if I didn't have my mouth full, which Rich obviously felt. Suddenly I had both his hands against the back of my head, and this man whom I'd always known as the reserved voice of reason was pumping his cock hard against my already filled mouth moaning "oh god, yes, fuck, yes." While I was more than happy to swallow what he was so obviously ready to give me, I didn't want to do it just yet. I pulled my head back, which he allowed after the first tug, and interrupted what I expected to be an apology for his ungentlemanly conduct with "soon, Babe…but not yet." Gail had returned her hand to caressing my thigh when Rich had grabbed me, and I wanted her more involved than that.

Rich obviously needed a chance to calm down a little, and I thought he might not mind being left to watch me undress his girl. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed as I stood Gail up, facing him, and sank back down to my knees between them. Her leather pants were held together with a slide hook on each hip and a zipper down one side. Figuring out where all the fasteners were was half the fun. The other half was, of course, feasting my hands on those luscious legs as I got her trousers down. Watching her red lace panties appear was no bad thing either, and from as close as I was I could see hints of the black curls hiding behind the lace. She smelled incredible, musty and spicy and sweet all at once. I brought my face very close to her crotch, partly to inhale deeply and partly to see how she'd react. More fingers winding through my hair. I loved it, pledged then and there to never have sex with my hair up and out of the way again. She liked it, thank god, she liked having me there. I blew a hot breath across her mound, felt the fingers tighten, turned my head and drew a little lick across the inner curve of her thigh, followed by a kiss of promise full on her front. But we'd left Rich on his own for long enough.