April Acquires Two Lovers

I knew I had to address the growing tension within me.

"George," I began hesitantly, "you've brought so much into my life. I can't deny our connection and how you make me feel alive again."

"April, each day, each afternoon, you make me come alive again. You provide a spark in my mundane existence. I would gladly share that moment every day if it were but a touch or only to see you as you were on the last Nude Day appearance on your sidewalk."

I felt George's fingertips tremble against my skin as his words spilled out. Those words were softly spoken, heartfelt, and tinged with guilt, perhaps — it came out as a soft pleading. His eyes shined as I watched his lip quiver; from thoughts of shame at admitting it, or out of desire; I couldn't tell.

My newfound confidence overrode my inhibitions. At that moment, I knew George needed some reassurance, some comfort in his vulnerable life. The same comfort he had offered me in today's visit. We were in a secluded part of the park, although in the open, and yet, I did not care about the location. George had been my friend and my confidant for months. Whether it was compassion, or a sense of exhibitionism brought on by the Nude Day experience, I impulsively gave George what he sought.

Without another word, I stood and stepped onto the bench; my trembling fingers unbuttoned my blouse, one button, then another ...

As I reached for the third, George said, "Here, let me."

His nimble fingers undid a fourth, a fifth one, and my breasts sprang free. After adopting nudity at home, I'd given up bras as a major encumbrance. Gently, George folded the blouse and set it on the end of the bench, then twirled his fingers in a spinning motion. I obliged, giving him my back. His practiced hands undid the skirt; it joined my blouse on the bench. Panties had become a thing of the past like the bras. I really did not need bras; I wore them out of conventionalism, something to keep my nipples from being seen through my sheer tops. As Johnny often remarked, my breasts stand proud and firm, toned by exercise and youthfulness — appointed with two ripe strawberries.

Slipping out of my sandals, I stood naked on the bench, looking down as George silently gazed up at me. I swallowed nervously, having given it a second thought now. My impulse had made me vulnerable and on display for all the park to see. I glanced around and was relieved to see we were alone, at least at the moment. What would prevent him from giving into his amoral side and taking me on the bench the way Johnny would have?

Too late now, I hadn't thought that through. I counted on his resolve; that's all I had because if he had asked, in that moment of weakness, I would have wholeheartedly fucked him.

"George, maybe ..." my voice hesitated as the realization of being perched upon the bench had put me on full display, "... maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Shush ... let me enjoy this moment, April. If it is the last one, that we have together, I want it to be filled with you experiencing your submissive side. You've done that, yes?"

"I don't know, George," my words hesitantly spilled out, "I don't know what you mean by submissive side. I guess I have. I usually let Johnny make our decisions." The words tumbled out as I looked down at him, his eyes wide and staring up at mine — and other places.

"April, I'm talking about giving yourself totally to someone — not your day-to-day business decisions. It's about obedience. I've sensed you need that in you since our first encounter at your doorstep. It starts with trust. Do you trust me, April? Really trust me?"

George's voice sounded so soothing, pleading for a positive answer. My thoughts were confused at that point. I thought I had done that; trusted him. Here I was on a park bench, naked and alone with him. I guess I trusted him, right? I mean, he wasn't trying to maul me.

"Yes, George, I ... trust you. You're a good friend. You will keep your word about only touching, right?"

However, that wasn't exactly the only thought in my head as I felt his light touch stroke between my thighs and toward my mons. The sensations were causing me to tremble, and my breathing began to labor.

"You are safe, April. Just follow my directions. Stand still, as still as you can. Become a statue for me — try not to make a sound. Can you do that?"

"Yes," I moaned, as I licked my lips and stretched my neck back as his tongue roamed up and down my thighs and over my mons. God, standing still was going to be impossible, let alone trying to keep quiet. I did my best.

"Good girl," he breathed into my wet lips. It was no use trying to be a statue. I shuddered, clutched his bushy head of hair, and pressed him to me. It was a reflex. It was nice. It was goddamned good tongue!

"Oh, fuck!" I cried out, as my body jerked and then racked with pleasure as he ate me.

"April, you have a lot to learn about being submissive," he said with a grin, as I dressed, and he wiped his face with a handkerchief.

We sat on the bench once again. In silence, I watched him take out his cock and stroke it. He didn't ask me if it was okay. I guess there wasn't a requirement to ask since he had just eaten a naked statute standing on a park bench. I watched him slowly masturbating with his legs spread wide. I knew I couldn't let him down after he had given me a lustful eating out, enhanced with the thrills of knowing I was on display in the park, naked, even if no one was around to watch me. Those Nude Day feelings of being somewhat of an exhibitionist welled up inside of me.

I'd never cheated on Johnny.

I wasn't sure this was cheating, either. I mean, George hadn't fucked me with that sizeable cock in his hand. And I wasn't sure cunnilingus was classified as cheating, either. I'd never had a conversation about that with anyone. George had helped stretch my horizon a lot — perhaps he was right — I might just be submissive, whatever that turned out to be. What I knew, at the moment, was George needed some relief. So, I gave him head just like I do for Johnny. I knelt before him, between his spread legs, perhaps that was submissive, or was it subservient?

I could hear a voice in my mind saying, "Woman, you've got to sort out those definitions and the question of cheating some other evening."

For now, I worked his cock like Johnny had taught me. It seemed it pleased George, too. His breathing became more labored, and his head tilted back in response. I felt the stirring in his balls as I coaxed his sac until the last drawn-out breath gasped as he shot his wad. I swallowed it all for him. His body shook, and it took a while for him to catch his breath and speak again. From the moans and gasps, as I sucked him, I knew he enjoyed my performance. At least he didn't object as I tucked him away, zipped his pants, and refastened his belt for him.

"George," I said, as his mind seemed to clear and his body returned to normal, "I'm not sure if this is what a submissive does. But I think we went very far away from personal boundaries. Right?"

"April, do you feel this was forced, unwelcomed, or a vow broken, perhaps?"

"I don't know what to think. I've never done this with anyone except Johnny," I answered. And never in public either, I neglected to say.

"This is a new level of ... friendship, April. I want it to be a friendship, still. Don't you?"

"It's just that this seems complicated now," I answered, sitting beside him. The acts of pleasure were so quick and surreal that I entertained an idea that this was just a fleeting errant sexual thought, not reality, that often transgresses my mind when I'm deep in conversation with someone like debonair George or handsome Johnny.

He looked at me, his eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and concern. "April, I value our connection both before and now. But I sense there's something more you want to say."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to find the right words. "I'm torn, George. Torn between the life I've known with Johnny and this... this unexpected bond that's formed between us."

George reached out, gently wiping away a tear from my cheek. "April, life is full of unexpected turns. Sometimes, they lead us to places we never imagined. But it's important to be honest with yourself and those around you."

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. "I need to confront Johnny, don't I?"

George's gaze was steady, his support unwavering. "Only you know what's truly in your heart. But remember, you deserve happiness, whatever that may mean for you."

Taking a deep breath, I knew what I had to do. The emotional depth I had sought was now confronting me head-on, urging me to make difficult choices. The conversation with Johnny wouldn't be easy, but it was necessary to untangle the complexities of my feelings.

And so, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm palette of colors across the sky, I returned home with a weighty decision on my shoulders. The ultimatum that had set this journey in motion was now a crossroads, and the path I chose would redefine my relationship with Johnny and the rediscovered self that had emerged through the courage to try something new. It wasn't my idea that brought this on. Johnny's injunction was to 'try it' during National Nude Day. It was the irony of ironies. Johnny had sparked this event tonight, and I was left at a crossroads. If I had been Robert Frost, the poet George had introduced me to, I would have taken the road less traveled.

Shit, what now?

The evening was heavy with anticipation as Johnny and I sat in the dimly lit living room. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken emotions, and I could feel my heart racing. This was the moment I had been avoiding, the conversation that had to happen.

"April," Johnny began, his usually confident tone tinged with vulnerability, "I can't help but notice that something's been different between us lately."

I took a deep breath, my gaze meeting his. "Johnny, there's something I need to tell you. It's about George."

His brow furrowed slightly, a mixture of curiosity and concern on his face. "George? The ten-year-old down the block?"

"No, George, our mailman ... my friend."

My lips pursed while my fingers nervously played with the hem of my blouse.Why would it be about the ten-year-old down the block? His name was George, too? How did he know that? I wondered, perplexed that idea had thrown my train of thought off track for a moment.

"Johnny, I thought it was just a harmless friendship at first, but it's become more than that. It started with that damn ultimatum you made on the National Nude Day celebration. It grew from there, and ... I've developed feelings for him, feelings that I never expected."

Johnny's expression shifted to a mixture of surprise and hurt, crossing his flushed, ruddy face.

"April, I know I pushed your boundaries that day. It was just a way of getting you to be more outgoing to develop your self-confidence. Honey, I've seen you bloom; you're alive and more confident now. I never meant for that to cause a rift between us. The ultimatum was meant to be a playful challenge, something to shake things up between us," Johnny choked out, as he watched my expression change to one of pain.

"You told me the mailman saw you," Johnny spoke, his voice was a dry croak, "but you didn't say it was a big deal. Did he ... do something ... or you ...?"

Tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to convey the depth of my emotions. "Johnny, it's not just about the ultimatum anymore. It's about how he makes me feel — alive, seen, understood. I never realized how much of myself I had lost until I started spending time with him."

Johnny leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. "I've been a fool, haven't I? Pushing you into this and not realizing the consequences."

I reached out, placing my hand over Johnny's like George did with mine in the park. "It's not just your fault, Johnny. I allowed myself to change and grow, and I can't deny its impact on me."

Johnny's gaze met mine, his eyes searching for something. "Sugar, I love you. I've always loved you. But I don't want to hold you back if you've found something in George that's making you question us."

Tears spilled down my cheeks as I struggled to find the right words. "Babe, it's not about choosing between you and George. It's about finding myself again, about discovering who I am beyond the roles I've played."

He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I should have paid more attention, shouldn't I? I should have noticed when you needed more from me."

I squeezed his hand gently, my heart aching at his vulnerability. "Johnny, this isn't just about blame. It's about acknowledging where we've fallen short and deciding where we go from here."

He looked at me, his eyes brimming with emotions. "April, I'm willing to change, to give us a second chance. I don't want to lose you, not without a fight."

I wiped away my tears, a mixture of hope and uncertainty filling my heart. "Honey, I don't know where this path will lead us, whether towards each other or in separate directions. But I'm willing to have an open heart, to explore what's best for both of us."

He nodded, a determined look in his eyes. "April, let's take this journey together. Let's rediscover each other, and if along the way we find that our paths should diverge, let's do it with understanding and respect."

Johnny's words sounded like those of a poet, Robert Frost, or even George's words and tone as I listened and tried to comprehend them amidst my glistening teardrops. As we sat in the quiet room, the weight of our words hung in the air. The conversation had been raw and honest, a pivotal moment that would shape the trajectory of our lives. In Johnny's eyes, I saw a glint of sincerity, a willingness to change that filled me with a cautious sense of hope. It was a fragile but open hope. At least, I wanted to believe that. I had to believe it because I wasn't ready to embrace an uncertain future.

We went to bed that night, each carrying our guilt and anxiety. After a week away, Johnny's Ph.D. would have been deep inside me immediately. Instead, we lay awake and turned away from one another. Restlessness, fueled by anxiety, meant neither of us could sleep. In the middle of the night, Johnny turned to me, his hand gliding gently between my thighs. He needed me; that was easy to tell as his fingers tentatively probed my mons. I rolled toward him and lightly touched his hard cock. It was enough, a signal Johnny read as permission.

Wordlessly, he grasped my thigh, hoisted my leg over his, then fervently fucked me; his hot breath steamed against the hollow of my neck. Fast, effective, it got him off. As usual, his sticky semen trickled down my thighs and seeped onto the crisp, fresh sheets. I should have been breathless, soaked with sweat, and like jello without the mold, but not tonight. He left me empty, emotionally, that is. He rolled away in the darkness, knowing I didn't climax. Any other time, he would have frigged me off, even if it was with his fingers driving me to that feel-good place as my body rippled with satisfaction; tonight, his guilt wouldn't let him do that.

We should have spoken about it in the morning. But I got up and washed the sheets instead.

Johnny spent the morning warily avoiding conversation, quickly picking up on my dour mood. To escape, he went with his favorite ploy. "Uh," he asked hesitantly, "April, do you need anything from the store?"

He was gone a long time. I attribute my mood to the way he treated me like I was some lifeless-latex-sex doll, not my usual hormonal time restlessness. Restless, I needed to get out of the house. I'd run out of things to clean, and Johnny was still walking on eggshells, voiceless about what had happened when he returned. Still, there was the glimmer of last night's conversation, Johnny's willingness to work toward our relationship. I clung to that hopeful flicker of light.

I needed fresh air. The sun was setting in a warm cascade of colors as I walked to the park where George and I had spent so many evenings together. My heart was heavy with last night's conversation with Johnny, now layered with this morning's further sepsis-like situation. The decision to confront the growing affection I felt for George had been necessary, but it wasn't without its complications.

As I approached the park bench, George looked up from his book with a warm smile. "April, you're here. I was hoping you'd come."

I took a deep breath, my nerves getting the best of me as I sat beside him. "George, we need to talk."

His smile faltered, replaced by a concerned expression. "Is everything okay?"

I looked into his deep azure pools, where the sky seemed to be trapped, and the bond we had formed revealed itself in the silent exchange of glances that spoke volumes.

"George," I said, my voice softening as I remembered the night our boundaries crossed over our friendship line. "These past few months have been incredible. You've brought so much into my life and given me a new sense of self that I had lost for a long time. I cherish every moment we've shared, like that night on this park bench, where you turned the ordinary joy of pleasure into an extraordinary joy; I felt like that woman in the movie you showed me, Emmanuelle."

Reaching out, he gently took my hand in his. "April, you mean a lot to me, too. You've reminded me of the beauty in simple moments, the joy of connecting with someone on a deeper level."

Tears filled my eyes as I struggled to find the right words. "George, my conversation with Johnny was honest and painful, but it made me realize that my feelings for you are more complex than I thought."

His grip on my hand tightened, a mixture of understanding and sadness in his eyes. "April, I don't want to be the cause of any pain. If being with me complicates your life, I wouldn't want that."

I looked away, blinking back tears. "George, it's not just about complication. It's about understanding that the path I've walked with Johnny, even with all its imperfections, is a part of who I am."

He nodded slowly, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand. "I see. You've made a decision, then?"

I turned to face him, my heart aching at the disappointment I could see in his eyes. "George, I've realized that I can't just let go of the bond I share with Johnny, even with its ups and downs. We had a frank conversation, and he's willing to change to make things work."

George smiled. It was a bittersweet look, a mixture of understanding and acceptance. "April, I'll always cherish the moments we've had together. You've given me a taste of something beautiful, something I didn't think I'd find again."

Tears spilled down my cheeks as I reached out to cup his face, the ache in my heart mirrored in his gaze. "George, I hope you find happiness too. You deserve it."

He leaned into my touch, his eyes closing briefly. "Thank you, April. You've reminded me of the power of connection, how two souls can profoundly touch each other's lives. You know our paths may still cross; I'll continue to deliver your mail. I can leave it in the mailbox if you prefer not to see me."

I nodded. I don't know if he took that to mean 'yes,' we'll continue to see each other or 'yes' leave the mail in the box. I was so flummoxed at that point, I didn't care.

As we sat there in silence, the warmth of the setting sun casting long shadows across the park, I held onto his presence for a moment longer. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and I closed my eyes, savoring the familiar scent of the grass beneath us. In that fleeting moment, I remembered the words of Robert Frost, 'Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,' and realized how our paths were diverging once more.