Angry Allan and Roseline

There was also one French tourist. You’ve got to love the French. Most of us were headed for a future in New York, a future that we all knew, each and every one of us, except the tourist, was an uncertain future.

Bob met me at the station. I introduced him to my new friend from the bus, Jamal. Bob was gracious and invited Jamal to dinner. I wondered what Bob and also Jamal were thinking?

I knew what I was thinking, hee, hee.

I gave Bob a hug worthy of one of the hugs of Ally or Jim that they gave me at the bus station in Indy, and Bob figured out in no time what I was thinking. Some of the things I had always admired about Bob were his quick wit, his raw intelligence, and his sweet personality.

I also liked that Bob got hard when I hugged him sexily, rubbing my boobs into his chest. I liked feeling his erection flush against my body as we hugged. We didn’t even need Jamal, did we? Still, I had promised Jim and Ally I’d give it a go, and a promise is a promise. Two big men, one small, horny woman. What could go wrong?

Nothing, as it turned out. Nothing at all. With two men, you know, you can try all sorts of things that you can’t do with just one. I began to think Jim and Ally had opened Pandora’s box! One thing they had done -- and there’s no argument about this -- is that they opened Roseline’s box. They opened it wide, and all of my spirits had come out and were running around, and like Pandora, I couldn’t get them back in.

Bob and Jamal were the type of men that when they saw an open box, they wanted to fill it. They both did a good job, too. It helped that they were both big enough, and especially Bob was, to fill my box completely, stuffing and stretching it in the process!

I had the time of my life that night. I was in danger of becoming a group sex addict! The next morning, however, brought me crashing back to reality with a vengeance. I listened to my voice mail and read my texts. All of them were from Allan. Somehow, he had learned my new phone number. He does penitence well, and I admit it: I cried.

Have you ever tried to cry, naked, with two men comforting you? Somehow, I didn’t cry for that long. I knew Ally would explain it all to Allan. I didn’t know she’d give him some comfort/pity sex, but hey, that’s Ally. She’s full of surprises, that one. I think it helped. Allan stopped trying to get me back.

Jim wrote me a few months later that Allan and Ally were fighting a lot. Ally kept trying to leave him, but the make-up sex was just too good. Allan does do penitence well, I’ve always said so. Jim said it was déjà vu, all over again. Hard to argue.

Meanwhile, I was friends with benefits with both Bob and Jamal as I got myself established and settled, in New York. I found work, made some nonsexual friends too, and created a new life for myself. I didn’t forget my promise, and I sent Jim and Ally a postcard every week. I began to look forward to their visit. They were coming for a few days the very next month.

They had more money than I ever did, so they’d come by airplane. The trip is only a couple of hours that way, but they’d never meet someone like Jamal on an airplane, you know? More’s the pity, hee, hee.

Life was good.

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