3 Women, 3 Men, 3 Days

Her eyes widened. She was both impressed by his scheme, and ticked off that she had lost a weapon for shooting it down. Looking at the floor plan, she could imagine herself moving through those rooms, dressed provocatively, or not at all, with Del, with Mac, with...others. Excitement kindled, and she resisted it.

That night in bed, she said, "You know this sort of thing can make life really complicated. Even if everyone has fun, and fulfills fantasies, and stays happy." Absently she fingered his chest hair in small circles.

"Which is why now would be easier than later," he said, his hand on her shoulder giving a slight squeeze. Affectionate, comforting, protective. "We're not married. Neither is anyone else. Right?"

She nodded, revealing that much about who she'd invite. She looked up at him. His expression was neutral, if anything a bit concerned. She could tell that, as much as he hoped for this, he wouldn't keep hounding her if she gave him a flat no.

"If you can drop the subject for three days," she said, "I promise a decision at the end of that time."

"Should I leave you alone?"

She rolled onto him and put an arm around his shoulder. "I never said that, and I sure don't mean that." She slid her torso onto his. "I want us to act married and closed for the next three days. So I can see if the jive-ass fantasies you've put in my head will fade away on their own."

"I'll be yours exclusively," he said, still neutral.

"And you'd better be at your best," she half-hissed, rubbing her cleft along his shaft. "I'll know if you're wimping out."

"That can never happen with you," he said. He took her head in his hands, and began and long, slow kiss.

She thought, Oh, he's good. Nothing in the eyes, or on the face, to give away how thrilled he is.

***

Months before, Del had set up a secure channel for her, to do with as she pleased.

She sent a message through this channel. She got a response. There were a few more exchanges. Soon, her second guest accepted her invitation.

She had the man she wanted, for every reason. Most importantly, a man with whom she would happily give and receive pleasure, while she would do the same with Del and Mac.

How much had she hoped he'd say no? Forty percent? Sixty?

The deal-breakers had all been kicked aside. She had no valid reason to refuse.

Her core of modesty resisted.

Alone at home, she summoned the hotel's website. As she expected, a dropdown offered video tours, including one showing rooms on the floor they'd use. Excitement moved her fingers, while modesty slumped in despair.

She projected herself into the video, along with Del, and Mac, and...him.

She gnawed her lower lip, and trembled.

At the end of the third day, when Del got home from work, he appeared both pleased and puzzled to see Corinne, moving from room to room, doing chores, nude.

"I have to get used to this," she said, deadpan. "It's probably how I'll be most of the time during your Parallel Lovemaking Festival."

He was about to scoop her into his arms, but she held up a hand at him and said, "You're overdressed."

When they finally went to sleep, it was the first time ever that they were both genitally sore.

Chapter 2

On the day itself, Corinne's anxiety grew steadily. She worked in her downtown office on Monday and Tuesday, twelve hours the first day, an early-started nine the second, to arrange in advance for being elsewhere Wednesday and Thursday. Even while ensconced in their pleasure palace, she would check in on current projects, and if necessary work remotely.

Before leaving the office, she changed from calm workwear to a blue dress that was, by most standards, modest. The neckline wasn't low, but it angled sharply at the center, and the underwire bra made it clear that the half-inch of visible cleavage promised much more. The dress didn't cling, but the cut made her curviness clear. The hemline had rises at both sides, and three-inch heels gave her legs more prominence. She knew that her walk would be both alluring and challenging. And that Del would be looking up at her, until she removed the shoes.

The trip to the hotel put her in rush hour traffic that was worse than her normal commute. During a stop, she found it necessary to counteract some excitement. Slowly and carefully, so no other drivers would see anything untoward, she added tissues to the panty liner that was already there.

She entered the hotel. A message check showed that her partners were still en route. She found and used a bathroom.

Stationed on a sofa in the busy lobby, she saw Mac arrive, in a plain black shirt and pants. She stood, and was about to approach when he saw her. They limited themselves to a light hug and a cheek kiss. She could feel his tension.

"How's this working again?" he asked as they sat.

"You, Ben, and I meet here," she said, looking around the lobby. "Del and his ladies meet in the restaurant bar. We text when a whole group has gathered." She felt ridiculous, sure that she was projecting guilt for something that was legal and consensual and, ideally, fun.

He chortled. "Don't know why I'm looking around, I don't know this guy."

"That's not why I'm looking around," she said. "Can you tell that I'm a mess right now?"

Mac looked at her. "Is there an option to cancel?"

She sighed. "We should at least go through with the dinner. Nothing extreme can happen until we're in the rooms."

"I'm okay if you want to abandon ship."

"I don't want to. That's part of the mess." She was facing the main entrance. Her neck jerked up suddenly. She stood and waved. The man who had emerged from the revolving door saw the wave, smiled, and approached.

Mac stood also, and asked her, "Del knows about this?"

"He doesn't know, but he probably expects." Then she smiled, extended her arms, and hugged the white man in the dark gray suit.

***

Corinne thought of strutting into the bar with a man on each arm, but decided that an attitude wouldn't be good for anyone right now. The men trailed her, single file.

She saw Del's smile, maybe relaxed, and the smiles of the women next to him at the bar, not relaxed. One of the women was white. She reacted no more than Del did.

They were led to a large round table. This made their alignment less obvious, but Corinne had 'her' men sit on each side of her, and Del did the same with 'his' women. Corinne wondered, How long will it take to break the ice?

In fact, Del did a good job of lowering the anxiety level, with friendly chat about getting to meet one another, and no hint of what they'd be doing later. Soon he got everyone into brief introductory statements, and delivering them seemed to calm each one. Corinne listened most closely to these:

"Hi," said a young black woman, her hair in a short afro, her eyes large behind thick glasses. "I'm Doris Tolbert. I may not look it, but I really am 25, so please don't treat me like a kid." She smiled wide, and while it may have arisen from nerves, the smile was charming. "I do deep data mining for OverSite, and I met Del at a networking lunch for techies. Umm...it's really nice to meet all of you." This smile seemed to contain relief at not needing to say more.

"I'm Sonia Grushkin," said the other woman, a blonde dressed to admit to, but not broadcast, her ample bosom. "I'm a free-lance writer. You may have seen my byline here and there, on pieces about local business. In a few weeks I'll turn 30, so please do treat me like a kid." They all chuckled, and Corinne hoped that some ice was chipping away.

"I've known Del for five years," Sonia went on. She was seated with her back to most of the restaurant, and now she looked behind her and all around. In a lower voice she added, with finger-quotes on the important word, "And I've 'known' him for four."

The others tried to muffle laughter. Mac slapped the arm of his chair, grinning. Corinne shoulder-scrunched, surprised that Sonia went so far. Yet Sonia's expression was so friendly that Corinne gave her a smile.

"I'm Ben Hoberman," said the man on Corinne's right. "Those are tough acts to follow. All I have is that I'm the administrator of a medical society. I met Corinne when she worked on our reorganization three years ago. I'm afraid I'm the oldster here, at 32. So I'll definitely treat you like a kid, Sonia."

And things got lighter and easier as dinner progressed. The food was pretty good, and strangers found common interests to talk about, at times guided by Del. Corinne limited herself to one glass of wine, and was relieved to see that nobody else went past one such beverage. Either everyone had other ways to lower inhibitions, or wanted to stay inhibited for now.

As they were finishing dessert, Del said, "Okay, please bring out your phones." When the devices were ready, Del fingered his briefly, and quietly said, "You now have passcodes for all three suites. As soon as you're ready, you can bring in your luggage. See you soon!" He stood, then sat again as he saw that some eating was still in progress. "My bad," he said with a chuckle.

Corinne gave him her wickedest smile, and slowly lowered the side of her fork through a tiny remnant of cheesecake. Just as slowly, she lifted a half-remnant to her mouth. Del laughed louder, nervous and eager but enjoying her show.

As she swallowed, she saw their seating arrangement another way. The table is round, she thought, but the people are points on a hexagon. If this is parallel lovemaking, in what kind of geometry does that work for a hexagon?

***

Corinne held her phone at the door. A green light glowed on the handle plate. She opened the door and stepped into the suite, wheeling her suitcase behind her.

From the open threshold she saw Del, briskly walking next to walls, holding up two handheld electronic devices. "Pick a bedroom," he said, looking at the displays and continuing to move.

"You think there's spyware?" she asked, with a new source of anxiety.

"I doubt it, just making sure," he said. "Smoke detectors, sprinklers, and monoxide detectors are in the clear. We'll make sure our phones don't get overeager." He stopped and gave her his I-care-about-you look. "You ready for this?"

"I'm sure as hell ready for something, and it better be between my legs!" She was exasperated, impatient, and out of her element. "Are you ready? For everything?"

"I better be," he said. Then he resumed scanning for bugs.

She was about to close the door, but saw Sonia approaching in the hall with her own wheeled suitcase, and Mac behind her with a heavily-stuffed backpack. Holding the door open for them, Corinne thought, We all enter with luggage. Will we all leave with baggage?

***

In a few minutes everyone had agreed on a bedroom, which if necessary would also be each person's safe space. The six—or, as Corinne was starting to think of them, the hexagon—then gathered at the bar in the common room. Dusk was deepening outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, and lights winked on across the suburban landscape.

"I've done a little stocking of the bar," Del told everyone, "If you brought any favorite stuff of your own, feel free to add it here. Legal only, of course.

"Now, please set your phones so that they don't search for WiFi. You can go online with other electronics in your solo rooms, when you're alone." Del set a basket on the bar and placed in it his own phone and the other two handhelds. "Now please put your phones in the basket. No pix or video allowed while we're here. Privacy and respect for us all.

"And now," said Del, picking up a remote from the bar, "Say goodbye to the cares of the outside world." He clicked the remote, and drapes began to close on the windows. Sonia started to applaud, and the others joined in, with Doris giving a tentative cheer.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Del said as the drapes converged. "You can go to your personal room whenever you like, or you can leave for good, whenever you like. You are free to do anything, with anyone who wants to do it with you. But this isn't completely free-form. We have some planned events, and here's the first one. Everyone please go through our entire space and bring all sofa and chair cushions in here, along with the little cushions on the beds. Then set them in the open space, side by side, like floor tile."

They did. Each trip was a bit sillier than the last, Sonia barreling through with three on her head, Ben trying to juggle three small ones. The cushions had different sizes, shapes, thickness, and softness, but Del guided the six into making a smooth, connected surface up from the carpet. In the end they had a body-friendly space about fifteen feet across, not quite circular and, as Corinne noted, not quite hexagonal. She then had to explain her earlier hexagon musings.

"Now," said Del, "please bring all of the bedspreads. You won't need them when you sleep."

The bedspreads covered all of the cushions with some overlap.

"And finally," Del said, "please find and bring all other cushions, spare pillows, decorative throws, and plenty of towels."

With everything in place, Del said, "We've all imagined amorous activities that we couldn't indulge. Now, perhaps some of them will no longer be fantasies. I hereby name this construct 'Reality Island!' Let this be where we gather for the delight of two or more of us at a time!"

Sonia said, "Can't we call it Mount Fuckpile?"

That cracked up all of them, but to Corinne the laughter sounded nervous. Del said, "You can call it whatever you want, so long as you enjoy it with the rest of us."

Del then brought out a large bowl full of foil-wrapped condoms and wipes, and a large tube of lube. "You will find these at many locations in our space." He set them on the floor at the edge of Reality Island. "Please use condoms for all crotch-zone penetrations, and for other action if that makes you feel safer. There are also bowls to receive condoms that have performed their duty. The wipe fluid is water-based, so there'll be no irritation."

Then Del went behind the bar and fingered a dimmer on the wall. The lights in the open space went dark. Lights from the adjoining suites and the ceilings by the exit doors allowed people to see what they were doing and recognize one another, but let them to think of their surroundings as more private, or romantic, if they chose.

Del removed his shoes and socks, moved to the middle of Reality Island, and lay down. "Whenever the spirit moves you," he said, "begin the quest for pleasure."

Corinne couldn't let that one pass. She said "Oh wow," to much laughter, but also removed her shoes.

She sidled up to Mac. "It may not be soft enough," she said, putting on a seductive voice, "so why don't we share our softness?" Weirdly, the seductive voice felt right to her. She also felt that her reinforced panty liner had outlasted its usefulness.

Mac's low laugh rumbled as she fondled his gut. He reciprocated with one hand on a breast while the other pulled at his shoes.

Ben said, "Would one of you ladies like to escape the mainland with me, and wash up on the shore?"

"Gladly," came Sonia's voice.

With that couple staking out space, Corinne felt less awkward about making out with Mac right next to solitary Del. She brought Mac onto the island with her.

Doris remained on a barstool, motionless except for the changes in her silhouette from rapid breathing. At last she set her glasses on the bar, snatched off her shoes, and tiptoed to Del. She lay next to him and whispered, "Can we just hug for a minute?"

"Sure, Sweetie." He enfolded her tenderly. And so the hexagon became three sets of two parallel bodies.

Corinne unbuttoned Mac's shirt, forcing herself to go slowly. With both hands, he slid the dress up her legs, not slowly at all. She unzipped the back and lifted her hip with a smile, and let him haul the dress over her head. She was still unbuttoning him when he got a hand on her bra. She slapped it away with a chuckle. "Wait your turn!"

"Just tryin' to get to your softness," he said.

Doris's voice: "Yeah, I'm good now. Mmm, yeah."

Corinne pulled Mac's shirt away with one hand and undid his belt with the other. Despite the air conditioning, she smelled what she thought might be group sweat. Too soon for exertion or friction. Pent up from nerves? Released now that skin was exposed?

Parting his fly, Corinne saw that Mac had gone commando. "You dog!" she laughed, hauling down his pants.

"Hate to waste time," he said, reaching to get both hands on her bra hooks.

And suddenly this was very, very serious. Corinne's fingers were holding Mac's prick. His mouth kissed down her cleavage as the bra came away. There were other people here, including Del. She shuddered, loudly, almost convulsively.

At the same time, with the same concerned tone, Del and Mac said, "Cory?"

Just as suddenly, she was calm, and relieved. "I'm good," she declared. "How are you?"

Ben's voice: "Not bad."

Doris splutter-laughed.

I'm safe, she thought, relaxing for the first time that day. We're all safe.

Then, the act of holding a lover's penis, while his breath flowed across her bare breasts, had a much different effect. Corinne hitched up her butt, yanked away her panties, and rolled at Mac, wrapping a leg around him and pressing her lips on his. Her momentum carried them off Reality Island, but Mac returned them to shore.

As she slid against him, labia dampening the underside of his cock, something soft and light landed on her shoulder. Keeping contact with Mac, she pulled it off and peered at it. Doris's blouse. Corinne flung it away from the island, saying, "Went to all this trouble to get naked, I don't want to deal with more clothes!"

"Sorry," said Doris, laughing.

Maybe five seconds and two tongue-kisses later, something else landed on her shoulder. She sat up and pulled away a brassiere. She looked across the island and saw Sonia and Ben, knee-standing, nude, fondling each other, but looking at her. "Oops!" said Sonia with a grin.

Corinne looked at the bra tag. "My god, woman, you are huge! DD, huh? You're gonna be really popular."

Doris sounded pouty. "Why did I bring C-cups to a DD fight?"

"So I could do this to them," said Del, bringing Doris's breasts to his face.

Corinne decided to say nothing about her D-cups, and hoped she wouldn't become a landing spot for men's underwear.

Sonia stood, and had Ben get up and follow her to a bathroom. They returned with two more towels. "Sometimes," said Sonia, "my body expresses its appreciation to my lover in a surprising way." She partly unfolded one towel and set her butt on it as she lay down.

"I bet I know how!" said Doris with a giggle.

Corinne thought she knew too, and wondered how much they'd have to tip housekeeping. At least Sonia sought to limit the damage.

Then Corinne had Mac lie on his back. She got on all fours for them to sixty-nine. For only a moment she made a point of raising vertically the longest penis in the room, but seeing that Del's head was buried in Doris's crotch, she recalled that this was about pleasure, not posturing. She expected to frazzle Del more directly later, in the 'normal' course of parallel sex. Her current lover was already tonguing deep in her loins, so she lowered her mouth onto half of Mac's equipment and gently sucked. She felt his moan through her labia.

Corinne saw Del, his naked butt right next to her, still at work on Doris. He was on his knees, legs apart, prick dangling. Corinne took her hand away from Mac's balls and reached over to stroke Del's cock, slowly, firmly. She heard him hum, and saw Doris's mouth gape. And thus, fellating one man and masturbating another, the modest Corinne Latimer became the first person there to engage in group sex. With a chain reaction to someone else.