Goddess Ch. 05: Terminus

Sara

The first time Mark and I had ever made love without Jeff, it had almost felt like we were cheating. We weren't, of course; we were in the bed the three of us shared together, and Jeff was only at a meeting with his advisor; he'd walked through the door, stripping down and joining the hedonistic fray before we'd begun round two.

Now when Mark and I sought solace in each other's arms, we clung to each other like we were afraid we'd be pulled apart, too. Fucking Him was still incredible, but we were both desperate to feel like Jeff was going to walk through the door and melt into us again.

Mark

How many guys would stress the fact that he was the only guy fucking the woman he loved? At least one, I guess. Where the hell was Jeff? Why wasn't he telling us what was happening, when or if he was going to be here? Sara and I didn't talk about it, but we rarely thought about anything else.

It was getting to the point that if he wasn't already dead, I might kill him.

Sara

Twelve hours. Twelve. That was how much time was left until Jeff was supposed to walk through the door of his new job, and he hadn't walked through ours yet. He wasn't coming, and he hadn't even bothered to tell us if he ever planned to.

I'd been in my own position for a week, and I adored it. I was grateful for the distraction of the hell of not knowing where Jeff was or what he was doing, but at the end of the day, I sought solace in a glass of wine and Mark's arms. Okay, in his pants.

The point is, by my third day at work, Mark had a set routine of waiting in our flat with dinner ready and a cheap bottle chilling. He was dessert. (He was taking the part of house spouse very seriously during his wait to start in his own position, trying to fill his hours with anything but thoughts of Jeff, and I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't miss it when he was also working.)

No matter how involved we were with each other, both of us would give the door a fleeting look if a neighbor (neighbour, here) passed through the hall, convinced we'd hear the click of the lock unbolting. Then we'd catch each other's eye and smile sadly before we tried to drown our anguish in pleasure.

Jeff

I stared at the key in my hand. I'd slipped the chain off of my neck, I'd triple-checked the address, all that was left was to slip one piece of metal into another piece of metal, and I'd be home.

Was it home, though?

I hadn't communicated with Sara or Mark in almost four weeks. At first, I'd avoided it because I didn't want to admit that I didn't have a plan. Then I avoided it because I was ashamed that I'd had to go slinking back to my parent's house pretending that what I had with Sara and Mark was through.

Now I was trying to quiet a nagging voice in the back of my head that kept whispering that I was an intruder here, that Mark and Sara had been living—quite happily, I was sure—together without me, and that my presence was only going to complicate their lives.

Was this how Sara had felt the day after she'd learned Mark and I were her gladiators? When she so wrongly considered herself a complication? I'd been completely dismissive of her self-doubt, but if it was anything as excruciating as this, I owed her a big apology.

For that alone, I knew I needed to open the door. Even if it was to apologize for the dead air. Both of them deserved that.

I took a deep breath and eased open the door.

What I saw immediately took that breath away. There sat Sara, stunning. A consummate professional. She'd shed her trademark oversized garb for business attire; a slim, black skirt hiked up to hint at the top of her gartered black hose, a crimson silk blouse opened to reveal a satiny black bra draped over the luscious, creamy breasts that I'd dreamed about almost every minute of every day.

Mark's left hand was moving smoothly against the satin orbs, causing Sara to arch her back, pushing the beautiful globes further into his grasp as their mouths melded, the half-empty wine glasses in their right hands forgotten. I stood frozen, watching my greatest desire and greatest fear.

They were fine without me.

I'd made up my mind to back out the door slowly and...and I had no idea what the fuck I was going to do after that...but Mark took that moment to remove their glasses to the coffee table to ostensibly free their hands. His line of sight was rooted at my shoes until he slowly drew his eyes up my exhausted form. It was like he couldn't believe I was there. I didn't want to let myself believe it was because he didn't want me to be there, but the thought wouldn't exactly leave, either. His eyes finally fixed on mine, and I still couldn't tell what he was feeling.

It was then that Sara, smiling and oblivious—it was obvious that wasn't her first glass, she was a lightweight, but this seemed like more than half a glass of wine euphoria—followed Mark's focus. My heart stopped as the smile vanished from her face.

Oh god, it hurt so much. I would have given anything to have been able to have shut the door without having seen that and just disappear forever. Watching her joy melt away would haunt my deepest nightmares.

But then she was on her feet. Not just on her feet, but on the coffee table that separated the space between us, knocking over the goblets Mark had just placed there, the amber liquid seeming to arc through the air in slow motion as Sara launched herself at me.

I staggered back a step as she collided into my midsection, her hands feverishly grasping at me.

"You're here, you're here, you're really here..."

She was muttering it to herself, still groping at me like I might evaporate. I hooked a finger under her chin and looked deep into her wide eyes.

"Hey, yeah. I'm here. I told you I'd..."

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Her probing hands turned to fists and she pummeled me with surprising force, yelling at the top of her lungs. Not exactly how I wanted to be introduced to the neighbors, but not unwarranted, either.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? WHY DIDN'T YOU ANSWER US???"

Mark had silently made his way to our side, and Sara fell quiet and stepped back as he stared at me. I stared back, preparing myself for him to do exactly what Sara had done, knowing his punches would hurt a lot more. (Although, goddamn, she must have been mad—those small fists left me smarting!)

I swallowed. I was ready. I deserved it. I could only hope he'd let me stay after I'd given my penance.

He swung a tight fist, but it didn't connect. Instead, it curved around my shoulder and pulled me to him, his other arm completing the tight circle as I stumbled into his chest. My mouth floundered around words that wouldn't take shape, and I pulled my own arms around him as he stood there holding me, constricting me further. I abandoned the attempt to say anything, and as soon as I shut my mouth, the tears started to flow. He put a hand up to my head and pressed his lips against my hair. I could feel his own tears against my temple and I wept.

I don't know how long we stood there, but when I got a hold of myself, Sara was leaning with her back against the closed door, her satin-clad chest heaving in alternate fits of sobs and laughter.

"You're here."

She wasn't screaming anymore, but I knew I wasn't out of the woods yet; her brow furrowed, and she scanned me quickly. She opened the door and poked her head out into the hall before closing and locking it again. Her expression was stony.

"But for how long?"

I smiled wanly.

"About that..."

Sara's eyes went wide, and I knew I had to intercept her fury before she could hear past her anger.

"For as long as you'll have me, gorgeous, but I had to travel light."

Sara gave me a hard side eye.

"What about this level of drama tells me that your missing luggage will mean more than a demotion to the kids' table next Thanksgiving?"

I sighed.

"I convinced my dad that this job was a once in a lifetime opportunity, but to get my ticket, I uh, I had to promise my dad that I'd go to homosexual conversion therapy while I was here."

Sara's mouth was agape. Mark muttered the expected,

"What the actual fuck, dude?"

"I had to change clothes on the plane and slip away without picking up my luggage to make sure I wasn't dragged away before I could make it here. That's why I didn't tell you what was happening; I think he would have expected you to show up, and it would have been harder to sneak away. I would have dyed my hair or shaved it off on the plane if I could have explained it without sounding like a crazy person to the crew."

I shook my head, eyes closed as much from fatigue as disbelief in my own parents' belief system. Sara's voice was low.

"So, they'll refuse to let you take a dream job if it means you're with the people you love, but they'll foot the bill to get you here if it means you promise to change a fundamental part of who they think you are at your core?"

Mark was incredulous.

"Damn, man. I never expected that from them. Not even after..."

He trailed off. None of us liked to talk about graduation day. Concern flooded his features. Sara gently touched my arm.

"Jeff, what are they going to do when you don't show up to pray the gay away?"

"Look, I know what we do only puts me at about one and three-quarters on the Kinsey Scale, but anybody that tells me I can't make sweet, sweet six love to this guy,"

I shook Mark by the back of the neck affectionately.

"Can eat a bag of rancid dicks."

I slid an arm around Sara's slim waist.

"Nothing's keeping me away from you. Not for long."

She opened her mouth to say something, then appeared to change her mind and just held me close instead. I sighed again and rubbed the back of my own neck.

"I have nothing."

Mark looked at me solemnly.

"You have us."

"I smiled. It was tired, but genuine.

"You're right. I have everything."

Sara

Mark was blinking back tears and smiling from ear to ear in a way I hadn't seen since the morning of graduation.

"Welcome home, man."

I reached up on my toes and pulled Jeff's weary face to mine, searching his tired eyes before I kissed him gently. As much as I wanted him, it was obvious that he needed rest; after all, he was starting a brand-new, high-demand job in a matter of hours, and I couldn't tell when he'd last slept though the night. It certainly hadn't been any time after we'd left him in Utah.

I gently took him by the hand and led him to the bathroom, Mark following close behind as he stripped off Jeff's backpack and jacket while Jeff stumbled along behind me, looking more and more drained with every step. I helped him pull his shirt over his head and undid his jeans, leaving him to kick off his shoes and socks as I ran the hot water for a quick shower.

He leaned against the tiles and let the water course over his tight muscles as I stripped down and joined him, tenderly running a soapy cloth over sinewy body. His eyes closed, a soft smile played across his face as I washed his chest, his torso, as I made my way down those gorgeous 'suck me' muscles. Mark leaned against the glass, eager to be near.

I bypassed Jeff's luscious cock and balls and crouched to wash his feet. At that, he pulled away from the wall and tried to hoist me up.

"No, Sara, this is too much."

"Hey."

I stood tall and pushed him against the wall, pressing my wet body against his. I could see Mark adjusting himself at the sight. The two of us had just about to attack each other; it was taking all of my strength to be nurturing towards Jeff and not attack him. He'd damn well do what he was told and like it.

I crouched again and bit back a moan as I slid past Jeff's fully erect member. It seemed bigger than even my most pornographic memory, and it was all I could do to keep my mouth away from it. Jeff obediently let me guide him, moving this way and that, too tired to fight. I turned off the water and Mark passed me a towel. I patted Jeff down as Mark dried off my own body. We shuffled into the bedroom, dominated by the king-size bed, much like our last apartment had been.

Jeff's eyes were drooping, but mine were fixed on his towel—it was quite literally flagging me down. I licked my lips and tried to stay on task, pulling the sheets back. Jeff crawled in and I snagged the towel off of him and threw it to Mark to hang it up next to mine. I slid next to Jeff under the covers, who was fighting sleep, and slung a leg over his, eager to touch as much of him as I could, even as he slept.

"I wasn't kidding, you know. I really have no...clothes."

I smiled. He'd stopped himself from saying 'nothing'.

"Of course you do, man. My whole closet is yours."

Jeff rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"You don't understand, dude, I have no socks, no underwear, nothing."

Mark huffed as he slid out of his clothes and into bed behind me.

"Hey, dingleberry. I've been waiting for weeks for my nuts to rub up against yours while we fuck Sara, do you really think I mind if they're rubbing up against the inside of my underwear?"

I turned to Mark and tried to shoot daggers, but Jeff felt the gush of nectar that betrayed how I really felt; there was no hiding my arousal. His eyes were barely open and the circles were so dark that they quite frankly looked bruised, but his smile was wide and he was laughing as he turned to me.

"Sara, do you really think I'm going to be able to sleep until I take care of this?"

He placed my hand on his throbbing erection, and there was no more denying myself. I stroked him as I slid down his hard body, my mouth finally closing around his delicious manhood. I could have stayed there all night, but there was no time for foreplay. I allowed myself one, two, three deep draughts, then straddled Jeff's hard body, burying him inside of my pussy in one smooth motion.

"Fuck, Sara! Are you trying to kill me?"

His eyes were wide open now. I threw a glance over my shoulder at Mark, who was also watching with wide eyes.

"If you're planning to join us, now's the time."

His dark eyes grew darker, the way that made me shudder, and I ran my hands across Jeff's broad chest as I heard the familiar click of the lube lid.

You're really here, Jeff. You're really, really here.

It was almost as if I couldn't believe it was true until he was inside me. Even my dreams weren't this good. Then I felt Mark's large hand press between my shoulder blades, and Jeff pulled me forward, and I sucked his tongue into my craving mouth as Mark steadily slid his throbbing cock into my ass.

No, I'm not dreaming. I've died and gone to heaven.

There was no tender moment of reflection, no pausing to savor the sweetness of our reunion. No, we fucked.

It was raw and animalistic and everything we needed. I couldn't even tell you who came first; all of us exploded in orgasmic fury together and collapsed, panting. Mark sprinted to the bathroom and grabbed the damp towels, saving the sheets. He tossed one at Jeff's head, who caught it even in his dazed, post-coital stupor.

"Welcome home, man. It's about damn time."

Jeff grinned and caught sight of the clock.

"Jesus Christ, is that really what time it is?"

"Tell you what, I'll run down to the offy and grab you some Red Bull for the morning. Sleep."

I watched Mark's resplendent ass as he trotted out of the bedroom, clothes in hand. I'd never get sick of that sight, from either of them.

"Offy?"

"Corner store. The local slang gets you quick."

I ran my fingers through his dark hair while I watched his blue eyes grow heavy.

"I really, really love you, Jeff. You know that, right?"

He nodded softly, on the edge of sleep, then his brow creased.

"Do you really, really love Mark, too?"

I hesitated, knowing he'd been so alone for so long and not wanting to give a hurtful answer. But how could I lie about that, especially to him?

"Yeah, Jeff. I really do."

The furrow in his forehead disappeared and a small smile graced his full lips.

"Good. He deserves to be loved."

I ran my hands through his thick hair as I watched him slip into slumber, then I kissed the tip of his nose and whispered,

"So do you, Jeff. So do you."