Storiesonline.net ------- Model Student by aroslav copyright ©2012 Elder Road LLC ------- Description: Freshman art student Tony finds out what it's like to be on the other side of the easel when his crush asks him to pose for her final project. Love and sex could save him from depression, but he's still falling behind and hates school. Can his racquetball mentor offer more? Slow start. Sex is integral to story, but so is racquetball and art. The story is about the characters. Codes: MF FF cons rom bi het poly 1st oral slow sch ------- ------- Prologue Prologue and Cast List This revision of Model Student is being posted just prior to beginning the serialization of the sequel, Triptych. The original story suffered from some serious technical problems, especially in the first few chapters. People so loved the story, however, that the author has put the effort in to clean up the problems and post a higher quality story for his enthusiastic readers. If you read the first version, it is not necessary to read this version in order to understand what is going on. Please read the Prologue to Triptych, however, and that will bring you up to speed on any substantive changes. A significant effort was made to correctly name the racquetball tournaments that are mentioned and to clean up the calendar and sequence of events. Other little inconsistencies, like Lissa's profession, have been cleared up, as well. The story is now set in Seattle instead of Portland and the colleges involved are named the Pacific College of the Arts and Design (PCAD), where most of the students we meet go to school. The second college that becomes progressively more significant—especially in Triptych—is Seattle Cascades University (SCU). The two campuses are just a few blocks apart in the Bell Town and Lower Queen Anne areas of Seattle. The schools are fictitious, but class schedules and program descriptions have been taken from a multitude of different colleges and art schools around the country. As with most coming of age and college dramas, there are a lot of characters to keep track of. Some of them are important and some are just names that might be mentioned or people met only once. To help facilitate keeping track, here's a list of people and who they are, divided by when and where you are likely to encounter them. Those who have continuing significance in the story have been listed in bold type. AT Pacific College of the Arts and Design (PCAD) Tony "Pogo" Ames, Freshman art student—Painting Melody "Little One" Anderson, Freshman art student—Textiles Sandra Wells, Freshman art student—Graphic Design Amy Garnet, Freshman art student—Advertising Art Kate "Kitten" Holsinger, Freshman art student—Painting Robert Bragg, Freshman art student—unknown major Brian Sutton, Dr. Bychkova's Teaching Assistant Ryan, Tony's dorm roommate Arlene, Ryan's girlfriend Maggie Wright, Sophomore art student—unknown major Professor McIntyre, Figure Drawing instructor Dean Nathan Peterson, Academic Dean Dr. Bychkova, Art History Professor Dr. Glenn Henredden, Studio Fundamentals professor/muralist Ms. Brock, Instructor in Visual Concepts course Miss Stevenson, Secretary to Dean Peterson Abe Ardmore, Studio Arts Department Chairperson Racquetball Competitors and Partners Lissa Grant, Reigning US Open Women's Champion John Gilbert, Trainer at the Seattle Racquet Club Rod, Tall player at the Seattle Racquet Club Rob Snyder, Men's Intercollegiate National Championships competitor Jim, Men's Intercollegiate National Championships competitor Wally, Men's Intercollegiate National Championships competitor Karl Higgendorfer, Defending Men's Intercollegiate National Champion Allison "Ally" Perkins, Women's Intercollegiate National Championships competitor Brian Sommers, Ektelon National Singles Silver Medalist At Seattle Cascades University (SCU) Sam Jacobson, Athletic Director Tim Kost, Captain basketball team Sonia Horst, Cheerleader Brianna "Bree" Jacobson, Cheerleader Rachel, Cheerleader Tonya, Women's basketball player Jan "Thor" Thorson, Sonia's boyfriend Family Members Saul Ames, Tony's father Deborah Ames, Tony's mother Alexandra "Lexi" Anderson, Melody's mother Harold Anderson, Melody's father Jack Wade, Lissa's ex-husband Damon Wade, Lissa's 6 year-old son Drew Wade, Lissa's 4 year-old son Molly, Nanny for Drew and Damon Friends back home Rev. Larkin, Lutheran minister when Tony was growing up. Lillian Stone, Tony's high school art teacher Beth "Dumpling" Carpenter, Tony's best friend from high school, now at Wellesley Donny Cavanaugh, Tony's high school classmate at whose farm the party is held Stoney, Tony's high school classmate Ramona, Former cheerleader and head of the cool kids from Tony's high school Ricky Barlowe, Melody's high school classmate Other characters Rose, Personal shopper at Forever Lilly Wendy Martin, Waitress at Carmine's Cucina Bob Bowers, Art Critic for the Times Opera afficianado, 5'2" bald and round man in Chicago hotel Miss Hayes, Jeweler in Chicago Monique, Jewelry clerk in Chicago ------- Chapter 1 It was only October and I was already disappointed in college. My high school best friend was so excited and having a great time—on the other coast. For me, it was depressing. I was thinking about dropping out before Thanksgiving. It was my own fault, I suppose. I could have gone to the University of Nebraska and been an art major. Instead, I'd applied to a small and exclusive arts college on the West Coast as my "reach" school and was blown away when The Pacific College of the Arts and Design (PCAD) accepted me. Not only that, but they'd offered me a financial aid package that meant I might escape college only about 30 grand in debt instead of 60. I thought my portfolio was weak, but I'd managed to sell it well enough that the school actively recruited me and I fell for it. Now I was regretting it. It wasn't very challenging. The school didn't offer a liberal arts BA; I was in a Bachelor of Fine Arts program. I had enjoyed a little intellectual challenge in high school and did well in both AP English and Math. But my only pseudo-liberal arts course in college was Art History taught by a boring old fossil. It was a three-hour class that met twice a week. We walked into class, he turned the lights off, turned on a slide projector, and everyone went to sleep. The Fundamentals class was no better. We were "taught" all the menial tasks of studio art. That meant six hours a week of stretching canvases, doing paint-overs, and scrubbing the studio floors. Over and over. Freshmen were pretty much the slaves of everyone else in the department. As far as I could tell there wasn't a sophomore who even cleaned his own brushes. How I managed to get both Studio Fundamentals and Visual Concepts the same year is beyond me. I guess it's because I got a pass from taking English Comp because of my high school AP scores, so they moved Concepts up a year. The one bright-spot in my schedule was my three-hour elective lab on Fridays in Figure Drawing. It combined basic anatomy drawing and live model drawing. There was a lot of sketching skeletons in the first three weeks, but then we had our first live model. Don't get excited. It was the professor's mother who came in and sat for a portrait sketch. In other words, she sat in a rocking chair and knitted for three hours while we drew her face and hands. The good part was that she had a really interesting face and you could tell she'd done this before because she really did hold a single expression for each of the posing sessions. Of course, she had the same expression on her face during her breaks. Three weeks into school I had my golden birthday. That's when your ages matches the day you're born on. I was 19 on September 19th. I had a phone call that night with my folks and about a dozen text messages with my best friend out East. Nobody else knew—or cared. Classes continued to drag on. I built frames, sized canvases, sorted fabric, wood, and metal scraps into bins, helped unload a massive rock from a truck, and burned my elbow on the kiln. Everything was crappy, including the weather. It was dark when I went to my first class and dark when I got back to my dorm room. I hardly ever heard from my friend anymore. Too busy. I called my folks every week, but they kept asking how it was going and I didn't want to tell them. The high-point of my week was when I went to a local racquet club to play racquetball. Dad had insisted that I have some physical exercise while I was at college and I was going to an art school. There wasn't a gym. Still, that was only a few hours a week and I was tempted to quit that, too, if it wasn't for the one hottie that I sometimes got to play against. She was some kind of national champion, so she creamed me on a regular basis, but just watching her work up a sweat was usually good for keeping my spirits up another couple of hours—or until I got back to the dorm. It wasn't until late October that we got our first nude model. We knew something was up when we came into the studio that Friday and the temperature was about ten degrees higher than normal. Professor McIntyre explained that this was for the comfort of the model. I was sweating. The model was a woman about 40 who I recognized from sketches that decorated the walls from years past. She was a little overweight, but I guess attractive enough. I wasn't going to be beating off to her image that night. I looked around the studio briefly when she had taken her first pose. None of the other students seemed all that enthused about drawing her either. Of course, all the other students in the class were girls. Five of the twenty of us were freshmen. This lady certainly wasn't showing any of them anything they weren't already intimately familiar with. We drew and I actually left with a couple pretty decent sketches. There were at least 19 other women in the class I'd rather have been sketching, though. On the way out of class, three of my favorites that I had lunch with on many Fridays fell into step on either side of me. I could tell something was up. "Well, did you get an eyeful?" Sandra asked. "That wasn't your first time seeing a naked woman, was it?" Melody joined in. "Didn't she just get you all hot?" "Did you sprout a woody? You stayed behind your easel the whole class," Amy asked. "Oh come on, you guys. She's a model. Who's going to get turned on while they're drawing?" "Don't tell me you aren't interested in women!" Melody sounded shocked. "All right," Sandra rejoined, "we'll have to hold this conversation after we've had a male model. It's no fun teasing someone who won't get embarrassed." Actually, at that mention I was embarrassed. I was—shall we say—sexually inexperienced, but I wasn't gay. All my life, though, people just assumed that if you were a male artist, you must be gay. Granted, I was sensitive, quiet, and a bit shy around girls, but I was definitely interested in them. Melody, especially. She was about 5'3" and nicely shaped. I'd done a few covert sketches of her when I was supposed to be drawing hands or feet of a model. Back in my room, I'd even enhanced a few of them into imagined nudes. I was fine around her as long as we were just palling around the cafeteria or the studio, but I'd never be able to ask her out. The few times I'd been with her without another friend, I hadn't been able to say two words. Besides, I'd heard she had a big scary boyfriend. I was relieved that Sandra and Amy were always around. The three amigas. I don't think I could have been alone with Melody and survived. It took me all of two weeks at school before I realized why I'd been recruited so hard by the admissions office. I was the only guy in studio arts who wanted to study painting instead of animation. At first I'd just thought it was weird that I had a Figure Drawing class with 19 girls and me. It's the same as when I was in high school. Guy in art? Of course, he must be gay, right? ------- I didn't go home over Thanksgiving break. It's over 1,500 miles and we aren't rich. I ate turkey loaf in the cafeteria. We still hadn't seen a male nude in Figure Drawing. It wasn't like we had a lot of body builders in the art school lining up to model. In high school it was like a big initiation for the jocks to model for the senior art class after they turned 18. Pay was never mentioned. Nude models made about $20-$25 an hour, so maybe $75 for the three-hour session, but it wasn't highly advertised. The first Friday of December, we were finally expecting this older guy who'd done one of our portrait sessions with us to show up as our first male nude. My art history professor stopped me in the hall before class to ask about some stupid paper I was supposed to write, so I was late walking into the studio. The semi-circle of easels had been drawn a little closer around the posing platform and every single one of my 19 classmates was in position waiting. Don't ever believe that women aren't as curious as men about the opposite sex. They'd been waiting for this day all semester. I got the last position at the end of the semi-circle where, if I was lucky, I'd see a profile of the model's head and one butt-cheek. It was going to be some drawing. Professor McIntyre came into the class and walked to the dais. She gave a sigh. "I'm sorry," she said. "Mr. Johnson (yeah that was his real name) called in sick. I just got the word from the office. Since we don't have a model, we'll work from a manikin for today." "No fair!" The girl who blurted out the sentiments of all the girls in the class was Sandra, and her easel was dead center. She'd probably come in 20 minutes early to get that spot. But she wasn't the only one grumbling. There was a general dissent in the class. "What can I do?" Prof asked. "I can't materialize a model out of thin air. Believe me, this class would be a lot easier to teach if I could." "Let Tony model." I almost swallowed the pencil I had between my teeth as I was fastening paper to my easel. Me? Who made that suggestion? I looked across the easels and saw Melody grinning broadly. "That suggestion is flawed. Tony hasn't asked or agreed to model. If he had, it is still inappropriate to expose a classmate. I'd say the same thing if you had suggested a woman. And it would be unfair to Tony to spend three hours posing and not drawing." "I don't mind." Was that my voice that just spoke? Geez! What was I doing? Prof. McIntyre looked at me. I felt the heat rise in my face and knew I was red. But, shit! Melody had just asked to see me naked. "Um ... I mean ... I'd rather not draw pictures of a manikin anyway. I assume that by 'being exposed, ' you mean my privates and I've got a jockstrap in my bag. I could wear that." I was getting redder the longer I talked. I'd just told a class full of girls that I was carrying a jockstrap! "You just happen to have a jockstrap in your bag when you attend this class, Tony?" "I usually go play racquetball after class on Fridays. It's my gym bag." "And do you have your racquet with you as well?" "Yes ma'am." There was total silence in the room as Prof. McIntyre thought about it. You could feel the tension from the girls. "Are there any students here who would feel uncomfortable having Tony model for the class while wearing a strap? Anyone at all in any way? Please be absolutely free to speak up. If it would make you embarrassed to have your classmate up here, say so. This is an art class. Art is not necessarily sexuality. The purpose of this class is to study the figure, not to embarrass or titillate. Please say now if this proposition is not okay with you." I almost raised my hand, but I'd committed. I wasn't going to back down now. No one in the class said a word. If I had to guess, I'd say they were all holding their breath. "Okay. Tony, if you are sure you are okay with this, then please step behind the drape and get ready. Bring your racquet out with you. I'd like to see some action poses." While I stripped off behind the drape and put on my jock I could hear Prof. McIntyre continue to lecture the girls in the class quietly. She made it very clear that if they could not maintain a professional attitude when "the model" was on stage that class would be immediately dismissed. I'd worked with nude models before. We had a pretty progressive art program in high school and students who were over 18 years old were invited to a weekly sitting that was technically not on school grounds, but still had "club" status. It was held at the local art store where several art classes were held. The owner brought a model in from Omaha once a week. None of us knew who he or she was and we seldom saw the same person twice. But I knew what needed to be done. When Prof asked if I was ready, I took a deep breath and croaked out the word "yes." I walked out onto the dais and kept my eyes focused on Prof, intentionally not looking at anyone else in the class. "Tony, I know this is your first time as a model. Keep in mind that you need to make sure you are comfortable in your pose and can hold it for 15 minutes. We'll change poses then and again at half an hour. At 45 minutes, you get a 15-minute break. Don't do anything that forces you to hold a strenuous pose. No balancing on your toes or one leg or anything. Let's start with a common racquetball pose. You're waiting for the serve. Feet shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, racquet in front held in both hands, facing straight forward. I had no idea that Prof knew so much about racquetball. I'm not particularly self-conscious about my body—most of it. It's not like I'm ripped or anything, but at 19, I'm not overweight either. I love to play racquetball each week—sometimes managing twice in a week if I can escape from homework. Posing like I was waiting for the serve was an easy thing to do. The model platform was raised about a foot-and-a-half above the floor so artists could look over their drawing pads and see the model. That meant that if I looked straight ahead, I was looking over the tops of my classmates and didn't have to make eye contact with any of them. I reminded myself that they were just a roomful of artists and not 19 sexy female classmates. I just stood there in the pose Prof had dictated and when her timer went off at 15 minutes, I found myself in a Zen-like trance. I don't know where I went to while my body posed, but as soon as Prof directed me into a backhand position I returned to there. I held my racquet in my hand in one position and could imagine what it would look like on paper. I could see the strings in their weave and the tension in my own muscles. I knew that if I left the class right now, I could draw the same pose. The class flew by. Before I knew it, Prof told me to go back and get dressed. When I came out five minutes later, the girls all applauded and said thank you. All told, it was pretty cool. With racquetball after class and getting to play against the cute champion, I didn't get depressed again until I woke up Saturday morning. ------- I packed my whole dorm room up with neatly labeled boxes to ship home. I hadn't told my folks yet that I wasn't coming back to PCAD. I hated it. If anything, Christmas break was even more depressing than my first semester had been. My best friend didn't come home. Apparently her parents had arranged to have Christmas in Hawaii and she flew straight back to the East Coast. I hung out with a couple of guys from high school, but all I could see was how much we had become different. I guess that's one thing about high school; no matter how individual you are, you all share twelve years of common experiences. Suddenly you've all gone to college or to jobs and your paths diverge. I was a little envious of them because they all talked like they loved what they were doing. The UPS truck brought my boxes the day after Christmas. Great. I was having a Boxing Day. Mom asked me about them, but I just said that I didn't need this stuff at school. I don't know why I kept avoiding telling them I wasn't going back. I spent my time in my room writing personal essays for my transfer application to UNeb. It sucked that they don't let anyone know until June or July. By that time, I could be in the Navy. Navy sounded like a safe bet since there wasn't any water around Omaha. I wandered, too. It was cold and there was a foot of snow on the fields. I trudged out to some of my favorite places to draw and did my best to capture the cold, desolate feeling while keeping my gloves on and mopping my constantly running nose on my sleeve. I realized my eyes were running a lot, too, but I blamed that on the cold wind. I was supposed to be at PCAD to become an artist. I unpacked my drawings from first semester to show my appreciative parents, but as I looked at them I saw what was happening to me. The technique was good. I was learning a lot about how to control shading and contour. In fact, compared to my earlier drawings and paintings, they were far superior. But they lacked any sense of emotion. When I looked at them I thought a computer could have drawn it just as well. But winter break was showing me something else. I didn't want to live at home. I'd missed my parents so much while I was in Seattle, but now that we were together all day every day, I was going stir-crazy. I'd never make it till spring if I stayed here. Two days before my flight was scheduled to return me to Seattle, I packed up my boxes and took them to the UPS office. I didn't ship as many back as I'd brought in the fall. I needed clothes, art supplies, and my racquetball equipment. Two boxes, plus the suitcase I'd carry on with me. Yeah. I'd decided that even another semester at Hell U would be better than staying holed up in Nebraska for the rest of the winter. ------- Grades came out and I hadn't done badly, even in the class I thought I was failing. After the break, I thought I was ready for another term. "Never make a life-changing decision before you go on vacation," my dad had said when I was trying to choose a college in the first place. It seemed like good advice and I was almost looking forward to the challenges of the next semester. It took almost two weeks before I was thinking about quitting and heading back to Nebraska again. I didn't fit in this city. It was constantly gray and drizzling rain. I couldn't imagine ever being warm and dry again. I had no friends and I was spending most of my time alone. Sure there were people I saw every day. There were even a few that I had lunch with regularly. I didn't hang out with anyone, though. Back in high school, at least there were a few people I considered close friends. Here at art school, we were all outcaste. I never saw anyone smile. The second semester studio class was Figure Painting. The old guy, Mr. Johnson came in twice to model. Maybe it gave the girls a thrill to stare at a real live cock dangling in front of a guy. God he was hung. I fervently hoped the girls didn't think that was how guys were supposed to look. They'd be really disappointed someday. I was playing racquetball three times a week now and just battering the hell out of the ball in the one session I where I practiced alone. We were told the last half of our Figure Painting class would be spent primarily working on a final project. When we got the assignment, our lunch table was buzzing with brainstorms. "I know what you're doing," Melody taunted me. "Something with drapes. Probably watercolor." "Don't forget the nude and the dog," I said. "It is Figure Painting. But, yeah. There will be drapes." "I'm going to develop that sketch I did of the hippy-chick model in highlights against a dark background," Sandra said. "She was cool," said Amy. "I might do one of her. In fact, I'd love to do her." She got a dreamy look on her face and we all stared at her. Yeah, lesbians get love-sick, too. She realized we were all staring. "I just don't know what positi ... which pose to do. What about you, Melody?" "Uh ... I was thinking something classical. Like maybe an oil of The Discus Thrower or something." "Who's going to model?" "I'll probably just go to the museum and find a sculpture." I was sure Melody had blushed. Well, old man Johnson was sure no model for that kind of painting. We all had different places to be after lunch and I grabbed my gym bag to go play racquetball. I was suddenly aware that Melody hadn't gone with the others. She was still standing beside me. "Is it hard to play racquetball?" she asked. "Not really—at least not the basics. If you get to competitive levels, there's as many nuances as there are in tennis. Anybody can play, but there are really only a few that reach Wimbledon." "Do you compete?" "Every match is a competition. When you play at a gym, sometimes you are playing with guys—or gals—who are a lot better than you are. Sometimes, you're the better one. You learn from masters and teach novices. To answer your question fairly, I was in a few YMCA tournaments back in high school, but haven't done anything but gym tournaments and individual matches since I got here. I do it for fun." "Would you mind if I watched sometime?" "No. Just let me know and I'll get you a club pass." "Today?" I jerked around to look at her. Like always, her auburn hair and strikingly lavender eyes just took my breath away. Had she really just invited herself along with me to the gym? "Sure. If you want to." "Great! Tell me what the basic rules are so I can understand what's going on." I told her all about the game rules and the fact that racquetball uses all six surfaces of an enclosed room. That meant people who watched the game, only saw the match through the back glass wall. I also told her that if she got bored she was free to go—she didn't have to wait for me. I went to change and showed up at the court at my appointed time. I'd forgotten that my opponent today was Lissa, a nice lady and a fierce competitor. Okay. Not just a nice lady. A gorgeous lady. An object-of-my-fantasies lady. A sooo-far-out-of-my-league lady. What a day to have a Melody watching. I was going to get my ass handed to me on a silver platter. I was a little self-conscious about having someone I know watching me—especially someone as cute and nice as Melody—but when Lissa's first serve went sailing past me, I got focused fast. It didn't take long before I was fighting for my life on the court and forgot all about my spectator. "Wow! That was something else," Melody said as we exited through the low door to the court. "Oh! You're still here." "Who's your friend, Tony?" "Lissa, this is my classmate Melody. Melody, this is Lissa. She's a women's amateur national champion." "That was really amazing. Tony didn't mention that he was playing a lady. A really beautiful lady." "Thank you. It's nice to meet you, too, Melody. Tony, you're showering here, aren't you?" "Yeah. I like to get a steam and a hot-tub after a match. You?" "Yes. I thought maybe your date would like a steam and soak, too. It's better than waiting out here alone for you." "We're not..." I began. "Thanks but I didn't bring a towel or anything," Melody jumped in. "No problem," Lissa said. "We'll get you a guest pass. Everything you need is in the locker room." It was pretty clear that Lissa wasn't taking no for an answer and as I headed for the showers, Lissa and Melody headed for the ladies' locker room. That made showering a little embarrassing. Every time I thought about the two of them lounging around the women's steamroom or spa, I started to get hard. Getting hard is not something I want to do in the men's locker room. I sought shelter in the dense steam until I regained control of myself, then took a cold shower, and rushed to my locker to get dressed. I needn't have hurried. I was the one waiting outside the locker room when Melody and Lissa finally exited. They were laughing like old friends and Lissa gave Melody a hug before the two of us left and started walking back to campus. "She is so cool!" Melody started. "She told me all about competing and her home and her two kids. Did you know she's a model? I mean a professional model!" "Wait. Lissa has kids?" "Don't you know anything? Yeah. Damon is six and Drew is four. She sure is in great shape for a mom, don't you think?" "No kidding." "You know what else? I asked her if she'd model for our class." "No way!" "She said yes! I'm going to give her number to Prof. McIntyre." "That's a class I'll never make it through," I said. I was feeling cramped in my pants already. "Let's get dinner at Dixie's," Melody said. I looked my question at her. She had the good grace to blush. "Sorry. I suppose you've got a date. Never mind." "No! I mean ... It's Friday night. Don't you have a date?" "Duh! If I had a date, I wouldn't have asked you out." "You asked me out?" "What? I need to be more formal? Tony, would you go out to dinner with me tonight? I know this nice barbecue joint called Dixie's. It's nothing fancy, but if you're not busy I'd love to take you out. There. Is that better?" Melody was turning bright pink, and so was I. "No. I mean, no, you didn't have to be formal. Yes, I'd love to go to dinner with you. It just surprised me. I didn't ... Wow! I thought you had a serious boyfriend." "Vicious rumor. Besides, I just want to talk to you about our final project." Oh. So that was it. It wasn't really a going out date. It was kind of a study date. Oh well. I could live with that. We didn't bother going back to our dorms first. We just changed directions and walked the six blocks over to Dixie's. We were early enough that it wasn't too crowded yet and we split a full rack of ribs that was to die for. I was so caught off guard that I didn't have time to worry about whether I could talk to Melody. It just happened. We had barbecue sauce up to our elbows and were laughing so much that I didn't realize until we were leaving that we hadn't talked about the final project at all. "Uh, did you want to talk about the final project?" I asked when we were still a couple blocks from the dorms. "Oh yeah. I almost forgot." Melody was quiet for a long time and I decided that maybe the project was just an excuse to go have a good time together. When she finally spoke it was in a rush and it almost blew me away. "Would you be my model? I want to develop one of the sketches of you playing racquetball into my final project and I'd like you to pose for me." "You mean... ?" I made a vague gesture at my clothes. "Yeah. Nude," she said. She was definitely blushing now. "Oh god. This is so dumb. We never had male models in my high school art program. Mr. Johnson is the only naked male I've ever seen. This is so difficult. It's just to pose." "Yeah, well, I mean ... You might not like what you see any better." Like I said, I'm not particularly self-conscious about my body ... except for one thing. I'm hung like a hamster. Everything is functional, and according to the books I've read, I'm completely average when I'm erect. But when I'm just carrying it around, it shrivels up like prune. The whole time I was posing for the class last semester, I scarcely created a bulge in my jock. And there was no way that Melody wouldn't be comparing me to Johnson's schlong. "I'd like to, but..." "I'll trade," she squeaked. "I'll model for you with all your drapery hanging around if you'll model for me." "Sure. That's fair. I don't think Professor McIntyre will let us do that in the studio, though," I said. Who was I kidding? If Melody Anderson was willing to get naked for me, I'd rent a room somewhere if I needed to. "We'll just have to find our own makeshift studio. You'd really do it?" "I've had it in mind ever since the day you posed for the class. I hope you don't think I'm stalking or something. It's just for the art, you know." "Yeah. Just for the art." ------- I left the planning to Melody. She said she had an idea and would let me know when we could work. In the meantime, true to her word, Lissa showed up in our studio the first Friday morning in February. Sweet Jesus! I had never seen anything so incredible in my life. The woman who regularly beat me to a pulp playing racquetball at least once a month was there in front of me stark naked and looking like a goddess come to life. Lissa is about five-ten, the same as me. She's a real athlete with an amazing rack that just plain doesn't move, even without her sports bra. She's blonde up top and there was no way to tell about below because she was shaved smooth. When she was introduced, Prof said something about a real atelier model in our midst. I didn't have a six pack, but Lissa did. Not the gross body-builder kind, but the kind that was so flat and firm that you could see her muscles ripple beneath her skin when she moved. I knew from playing racquetball that she was graceful, but as a nude model in front of our class, she was like a panther stalking and then freezing with her muscles quivering, ready to pounce. Yeah, I acted all professional and everything, but as soon as class was over and she stepped behind the curtain, I looked at what I'd drawn and sprouted an instant boner. When I looked at some of the girls, they looked a little glassy-eyed, too. After class, Lissa stopped to talk to Melody and when I caught up she turned and smiled at me. "We're still on for this afternoon, right?" she asked. "Huh?" Oh my god! We were going to play racquetball that afternoon. "Yeah. See you later." ------- "See you later? Don't tell me you have a date with that, that, that goddess!" Amy squealed as we walked into the cafeteria. "We play racquetball about once a month," I said meekly. "Yeah, sure. She bats your balls around, I'll bet," Sandra smirked. "Really." "Yeah, really. I'll be there to chaperone," Melody said. I looked at her with my mouth open. She was coming to watch us play again? Since the last time she came to the club and we went out to dinner, we hadn't managed to get together once. What can I say? Stupid school. As boring as most of my classes were, it was still a ton of work. Fundamentals class had advanced from hours of stretching canvases to hours of prepping a huge mural wall that the instructor was doing for the school. It was listed as lab, but it was just grunt work. When Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel there were probably him and about thirty freshman students who mixed paint, plaster, and ran errands for him. If he was working, they were working. That's how the fundamentals professor was. We'd spent most of the past four weekends working or on call for hours to do the grunt work. It's the only other class I have with Melody, but I didn't see her once when I was working. Melody and I got to the club and she had a guest pass waiting for her. She headed straight for the ladies locker room. I went to change and headed for the court. When I got there, Lissa was already showing Melody the proper stance for receiving a serve. She had her arms wrapped around Melody's waist to reach her hands on the racquet. It was sexy as hell. "Tony, serve a couple of lobs for Melody. Don't go crazy. I promised I'd show her the fundamentals of play today and then we'll have our game." "I don't mind," I answered truthfully. Melody was dressed in a tank top over a sports bra and a pair of short-shorts that showed the lower crease of her butt. And every time I looked at Lissa, I still saw her naked in my mind's eye with her perfect breasts and bullet-like nipples and her smoothly shaved pudendum. Of course, they were both behind me when I served, but I quickly back-pedaled to give Melody and Lissa room to return the ball. I was still watching the two follow through when the ball hit me in the chest. Melody screeched and asked if I was all right. Lissa just rolled her eyes at me and threw me the ball to serve again. We worked like that for about 15 or 20 minutes and then Lissa said it was time for her to get my attention back on the ball, so a very winded Melody left the court to watch as Lissa worked my ass off chasing her serves from one side of the court to the other. I was amazed that I actually managed to score a few points; she really took me to school. "Mercy!" I finally yelled, falling on my knees after the last point. "I'm no match for you today." "Tony, you are never a match for me," Lissa laughed. "That's for having your head in a different room this afternoon. You're the only real competition I have here so I need you to have your head in the game." She gave me one of the most evil looks I have ever seen as we turned to the low door. "Now I'm going to take your girlfriend to the showers and get naked with her," she whispered in my ear. "Think about that for a while." "She's not my..." "Yeah. Sure." Melody and Lissa left me standing outside the racquetball court, already getting hard. ------- "Next weekend," Melody said out of the blue as we were eating that night. I'd done my best imitation of her formal invite and she'd accompanied me to The Twister, a retro café with a lot of 60s paraphernalia hanging on the walls. I looked at her blankly, not comprehending the non sequitur. "Next weekend is when we work on our final project. We'll have all weekend, so plan to skip racquetball that Friday and not get back until Sunday night. Pack your sketch supplies and paints and the canvas or watercolor paper you intend to use. I've made arrangements to borrow two easels from the studio so we won't have to dismantle one piece in order to work on the other. Don't bother packing much in the way of clothes. I expect we'll be naked most of the weekend." I blew Coke out my nose. "Where are we going?" "I've got it all arranged. I've even got a car for the weekend to transport our stuff. Don't worry about it. Just be ready to go after class." ------- It was a damn fine day. True to her word, Melody dragged me away from class without so much as stopping for lunch with our friends. We lugged two easels downstairs to where a Mazda SUV was sitting and loaded them in the back. Then Melody drove us to the dorms to load anything else we needed and in 20 minutes we were on the road. It wasn't a long drive. We drove up Queen Anne, weaving around dead ends where the street couldn't make the grade and finally winding around to the west side of the hill. I assumed we must be headed to Melody's home, as confidently as she was driving, but the place we stopped at was nothing less than stunning. The house was in a nice neighborhood and looked elegant from the front, but when she led me through to the back of the house, I was speechless. From the back deck there was an absolutely spectacular view of the water. The early afternoon sun was sparkling off the surface. "This place is beautiful!" I said. "Is this where you live?" "No. I borrowed it for the weekend. We'll be working downstairs. Let's get our stuff." We unloaded the car and this time Melody led me down the front stairs into a walk-out basement. The view was almost as good here as it was from upstairs, but only from the sliding glass doors. The rest of the room had been cleared of everything but the essentials. At one end of the room was a twin sleigh bed stacked with linens, pillows, and fabric. At the other end of the room, easily 30 feet long, was a hardwood floor. It looked like a dance floor ... or a racquetball court. The ceiling was nowhere near high enough, but it didn't take much imagination to see it as a court setting. I was pretty sure Melody wasn't planning to draw the ceiling. "This is so cool! We can set your scene up at this end and mine at that end." "You figured it out. I was afraid I was going to have to explain." "I may be slow, but I'm not stopped. I don't know how you managed to arrange this but you are brilliant. But there's like ... um ... one thing ... You might not like everything you see and ... um..." "Look, just set up your scene and I'll set up mine. We can flip a coin to see who goes first." With that she started setting up her easel and sketchbook while I started working on the drapery the way I imagined it. "This bed is perfect. How did you manage this?" "That Watteau painting you said you liked when we were talking about drapery—The Toilet. And the picture you showed me by Boucher—Resting Maiden. This reminded me of those. I just figured you could alter the headboard and fabrics when you paint." "You put a lot of thought into this, Melody. Thank you. This just happened to be here?" "Pretty much." I wasn't sure what that meant, but I was so excited about setting the scene that I didn't investigate any further. Behind the bed, there was an adjustable coat rack to hang the drapes over. I made up the bed with pillows and hung my tricot drapes. When I framed the image between my hands, the drapes looked like they were suspended from skyhooks. I had a few props that I'd brought with me, as well. I positioned the ewer and bowl that I found in the theater props closet on a small table at the end of the bed. I went up to the kitchen and washed the purple grapes that I'd bought that morning at the market and brought them down in a bowl. I positioned candles strategically around the scene. I knew exactly what I wanted and where. When I was finished, I turned toward Melody at the other end of the room. She didn't have much in the way of props, but she'd thought to bring two flood lights with diffusion screens with her to create a bright corner of the room without casting shadows. Melody looked at my setup and nodded. I looked at hers and wandered around under the lights checking for shadows as well. We met back in the middle. "Should we... ?" "You want a Coke?" We spoke at about the same time and laughed at our own nervousness. "There's no rush," Melody said. "Why don't we go upstairs and have a little lunch before we get started. My stomach's growling." I'd been so focused on getting set up that I forgot about food, but as soon as she mentioned it I became acutely aware of my own hunger pangs. "Great idea. Should we go get burgers?" "Our ... um ... host left us food in the fridge." "Is our host coming back while we're here?" I asked as I followed her up the stairs. "Maybe. But she won't disturb us. Oh. We have the bedroom on the left down the hall." "We?" "Um ... or any of the others, I guess. That's just the one she pointed out to me." Melody pulled a platter of cold cuts and cheese out of the fridge with mustard and mayo. There was a loaf of bread and a knife on the counter. We made sandwiches and drank Cokes in silence. "Tony." "Melody." We started at the same time again. This time she nodded to me to go first. "Melody, this place is cool and all, but are you comfortable here ... I mean, alone with me? You know I'm not pushing for anything but our paintings, don't you?" "I kinda suggested it, remember? And I should be asking you those questions. I mean, I understand if you really don't like girls, but Lissa said we all had that wrong. Still, if you're not into me, I still want to do the painting with you, and I won't ask anything else." My heart was beating like a thousand times a second. Melody, my secret fantasy girl, was telling me she was available if I was interested. When I stood up I wavered a second, afraid I was going to pass out from lack of oxygen. I went around the little breakfast bar and stood in front of Melody. She looked up at me with ... I wanted to say hope, but I thought there was fear, too. I took her hands in mine. "Melody, there isn't anything you could ask of me this weekend that I wouldn't give you. It's really more than okay." I pulled her up from her seat, thinking that we'd head back to the makeshift studio, but she melted against me and pressed her lips to mine. It was soft and gentle and lingered with tastes of hope and promise. "Let's see how it goes," she whispered. ------- The next order of business was to determine who went first. Would I model and she paint or the other way around? Melody pulled out a coin from her bag and told me to call it in the air. She tossed the coin up and I yelled, "Heads!" The coin hit the floor and started rolling across the hardwood. We both chased after it, laughing. It rolled all the way into the corner and ended up leaning against the baseboard. "Okay, I guess we know what that means." I looked at her blankly. "We both go at the same time." "We can't both paint and model at the same time." "No, but we can both undress at the same time. That's what all the uncertainty is about, isn't it? I'm afraid you'll think I'm not beautiful like Lissa and you're afraid I won't like your cock as much as old man Johnson's. So, we both undress at the same time and we just stay that way this weekend. Ready, set, go. Please don't hesitate or I won't have the courage to keep going," she said as she peeled off her t-shirt and reached behind to unsnap her bra. I quickly pulled off my shirt as well and then we both kicked off our shoes and shimmied out of our jeans and underwear in one move. In less than fifteen seconds we were both naked. Oh god, she was beautiful. My eyes started up from her toes and got stuck for a minute on her bare pussy. She'd shaved it like Lissa's. I don't know why I kept thinking about Lissa except that she'd been modeling for us last week and ... I wrenched my eyes further up and saw two of the most exquisite breasts I'd ever imagined. I couldn't wait to touch ... I mean paint them. When my eyes reached her face I discovered hers were still glued to my crotch, her mouth hanging open. My tiny little cock. Shit. "Tony?" I glanced down and realized that my cock was rapidly expanding from a one inch flop to a six inch monster as she watched. "I ... I'm sorry. It kind of does that when I ... well ... whenever I even think about you naked." At last her eyes rose to meet mine. "You think about me naked?" I nodded. "That's so sweet!" She rushed at me and the kiss she planted on my lips this time extended all the way to the back of my throat. My cock was throbbing against her stomach as she pulled back away from me. "Maybe we should wait until it's dark outside to start painting. So we can control the light better." "What should we do till then?" "We could go unpack our things in the bedroom and see if the bed is comfortable." "We have a bed right here," I said, pointing to the draped setting I'd created at the end of the room. She kissed me again and I lifted her, carrying her to the bed I'd set for my painting. "Tony," she whispered as I began trailing kisses down her neck and torso. "Oh, Tony. I've been hoping for this since we first met. I was so afraid that you didn't like girls, or at least didn't like me." "God, Melody. I'm so stupid. I just thought a girl like you ... I mean someone who's so pretty ... would never be interested in somebody like me. I should have said something but I was just so busy hating school that I couldn't imagine you wanted anything more than a lunch partner." I reached her left nipple and kissed it, caressing it with my tongue. The whimper she made and the pressure of her hand on the back of my head told me I was doing something right. I'd studied all the basic mechanics of the human body as an art student, but I didn't really have any practical experience. She pulled at me and lifted my head to return to her lips. "I want you to explore all my body this weekend and I want to explore you, too, so don't think I don't want you to lick me. But what I really want first, is to feel you in me. Tony, before we do anything else, can we just make love?" "Like I told you, darling. We can do anything you want." "Gently." "Melody ... I've never..." "Me either. But I really want to. I want you." I could feel her fingers wrapped around my penis and stroking the head up and down her moist slit. The combined fluids quickly coated both of us. When she positioned the head against her opening she began pulling me slowly into her. I was holding myself back, afraid I'd hurt her or lose control—not knowing what I was doing and not wanting it to ever end. When I was fully inside her she gasped and locked her lips on mine again. We kissed long and deep, not moving below the waist, but just feeling the magic of being joined together—realizing that in those few moments we'd made the transition and were no longer virgins. For a moment, I was frozen. No wonder I hated school. It was why I'd never asked Melody out. I'd almost let this beautiful woman pass by. And now, she'd just reached into my heart and started it beating again. We pulled back from our kiss enough to look into each other's eyes and found that we were both crying. I hugged her, kissed her, wept with her, all the time just joined as deeply as we could get. I didn't care about having an orgasm. I didn't care that I was no longer a virgin. All I cared about was that I was so profoundly accepted by this incredible woman. Not just accepted. Loved. When we finally began to move and slide together and apart, we simply kept looking into each other's eyes and holding each other in awe. We were one. We were all there was in the world. When our orgasms came crashing over us it was enough to knock us both out. I succeeded in getting an arm under myself so all my weight wouldn't crush her. With our cheeks pressed tightly against each other, I couldn't tell if I tasted my tears or hers. ------- "Wait," I whispered. "Don't move." I'd somehow slid off her, out of her. She still lay sprawled back across the bed. Her left leg was pulled up and leaned close to her outstretched right leg. Her head was thrown back against the pillows and her left arm was raised over her head. Her right hand lay on her stomach now that I no longer did. I lit the candles, reached for my sketchbook, and began working furiously. It was perfect—the drapery, the light, the position of the ewer. Her breathing was music to me and I lost myself in that gentle pulse. Her eyes as she looked at me—their violet depths captured my very soul. I placed a small bunch of grapes in her left hand, dangling above her head. She barely glanced at them. A perfect model. In fifteen minutes, I had captured a sketch that I could transfer to my watercolor board. I was completely in love. "You know," she said softly, speaking for the first time since we'd made love. "You're going to have to do that every time you want to get me to pose this weekend." I figured I could live with that. ------- Chapter 2 "Melody, Tony, could I see you please?" Prof McIntyre led the two of us to a corner of the studio where we couldn't easily be overheard by the rest of the class. We were working with pastels today and the model was the 20-year-old hippie-chick Amy liked so much. She was one of those totally au naturel women who didn't shave anything. You had to wonder if the hair that hung almost to the waist was from her head or her armpits. Yeah, I joke like that. Actually she was a very sweet looking woman with one of those willowy figures that makes you think of Galadriel or something. I wasn't happy being called away from my easel. Prof had our drawings in front of her. We handed them in on Monday and figured we were way ahead of the rest of the class because that phase of the project wasn't due until today. We were almost finished with the whole project after our weekend. We really did do some work besides just fall into bed with each other every couple of hours. "These are nice work from both of you," Prof began. I could just hear the "but" that hadn't yet been spoken. "Unfortunately, they won't be usable for your final project." Both of us gasped and looked at each other. "How far are you with these paintings?" "Nearly finished," I answered. "You're working ahead." "Is that a problem?" "In this instance, yes. This is a process project. I've no doubt that the pieces you are painting are excellent works of art. You both show incredible talent and as long as you both have model releases from each other, I can't prevent you from displaying them in the end-term exhibition. But they won't do for the final project." "Professor, why can't we use these?" Melody asked. "We worked hard on them." "You've noticed the sketches displayed around the room and know that they are all of Mrs. Hirt, correct? Those are the sketches from last year's final project. I retain the sketches for the next year's class to see. Part of the project is that everyone uses the same model. I'm going to cover that with the rest of the class in a few minutes. The assignment due today was for a concept sketch, not a finished drawing. Next week, we will have the model here for each student to set an appointment to sketch. You pose the model for your work, have fifteen minutes to complete your sketch, and then the next student steps in. I'll accept these as concept sketches from you, even though they are way too polished to qualify." "Oh." There really wasn't much else we could say. We had been told to bring a concept sketch for the class. I could just imagine trying to pose old man Johnson on the sofa with a bunch of grapes if he was our required model. "Now come join the rest of the class. I'll make the full announcement." ------- "Can you believe she's coming back? This will be so cool!" Amy practically screamed as we walked to lunch." "I know you two like her. She's like your friend, isn't she, Tony?" asked Sandra. "Well, sort of. We play racquetball." "She's teaching me," Melody put in. In fact we had a session with her scheduled this afternoon. I had to admit that I was looking forward to seeing her naked on the model dais again. Of course, this time I had something more tangible to compare her to. Melody and I had been in each other's bed at every opportunity this week and were looking forward to the weekend, even though we both had a crazy lot of homework to do before midterms. "How'd you guys get into that club?" Amy asked. "I heard it was pretty exclusive." Pricey, I thought. "My dad thought I needed more exercise," I confessed. "I was pretty much a wreck first semester. I guess it did help." "So what's the story with you two?" "Sandra!" "Oh hush, Amy. You know that's the question you really meant to ask. Every time we see Tony or Melody, we see Tony and Melody. Are you two a couple now?" We looked at each other. We weren't really hiding it, but now we were going to openly declare it. "Umm ... yeah. I guess so." "Damn, Melody. How'd you get so lucky? I had my eye on Tony!" Sandra said. I nearly spit Coke out my nose, but before I could respond, Amy was echoing almost the same words. "Damn, Tony. How'd you get so lucky? I had my eye on Melody!" Melody wasn't able prevent choking on the burger she was eating. It took us a minute to make sure she was okay before both Sandra and Amy burst out laughing. "Got'em!" They chorused and high-fived each other. We blushed, I guess. But I wasn't about to let them get away clean with this. I turned and planted a sizzling kiss on Melody that took her so much by surprise she kept her eyes wide open staring at me through the whole thing. It didn't stop her from returning the fervor, though. When we parted from each other, I turned to the other two. "Eat your hearts out, girls!" ------- "Tony, why don't you warm up for a few minutes on the court while I while I work off-court with Melody," Lissa said when we got to the gym. "Then you can return a few of her serves while I coach." I don't know if you've played racquetball. It's not all that uncommon to warm up or even to practice alone, even though typically there are two people and sometimes even four on the court for matches. They play doubles racquetball, too, and it can get pretty dangerous with four people swinging racquets around in such a small space. But I really enjoy my alone time on the court. After I warmed up a little, I started really getting into the groove of firing the ball into the wall, over and over again. When I was really depressed, I'd sometimes work so hard on the court that I could hardly move when I left. Getting laid regularly was a great anti-depressant, but it put a real crimp in study time and I was falling even further behind in a couple of classes. Add to that, it was downright crappy that we wouldn't be able to use the pictures we'd painted for our final. It really pissed me off, even though Melody and I wouldn't have had the incentive to get together last weekend if we hadn't jumped the gun—and each other. I kept beating the ball harder and harder and sweat started dripping off me as I thought about it. It just ... Made me ... So ... Damn ... Mad ... that we couldn't use our paintings for the class. It was just another thing that was wrong with college. My favorite class and I'd fucked it up, too. The ball finally got away from me and I turned to retrieve it. Outside the glass back wall, Melody and Lissa were watching me. Melody had her mouth absolutely hanging open. Lissa had a puzzled look on her face, but moved to open the little door to come onto the court. "Is it safe?" "Um ... yeah. I was ... just ... warming up." I was drenched in sweat, dripping off my nose onto the floor and panting so hard I couldn't speak. Lissa tossed me a towel. I wiped down and then looked around the floor to mop up any puddles that might make it slippery. "I'm kinda glad I wasn't in here to take that ass-whipping you just delivered. What got into you?" "I was just a little frustrated. Sorry." Melody poked her head into the court. "Can I come in?" I motioned her in and she came straight up to me and kissed me. It wasn't a big passionate kiss, but it was nice. Real nice. "Ew! You are soaked. I didn't know you could play this by yourself." "Like many things, you can do it alone but it's a lot better with two. Or three." Lissa said. I glanced at her and she was smiling smugly at her intended suggestive remark. I wasn't sure Melody got it. "Tell me about what's got you so upset, Tony." I leaned back against the wall and slid down it until I was sitting on the floor. I groaned. Lissa and Melody camped right next to me. We had the court reserved. There was nothing in the rules that said we couldn't have a break while we weren't playing. So I started in. I don't know why, but suddenly everything came unplugged and I just poured out all my frustration with school, my classes, my life, and the failed project. To their credit, neither Melody or Lissa interrupted me or made any attempt to cut me off until I'd vented everything. When I finally wound down, I saw that Melody had tears running down her cheeks and I was struck with sudden pangs of guilt for being so upset when everything between us was so good. "Tony, have you talked to a school counselor or any of your professors about this?" Lissa asked. "What could they do? It's my problem. I made a mistake coming here. They can't solve it for me." "So you figure you have to face everything alone?" "I'm 19. I'm supposed to be an adult." "So that's the magic age! I missed it." Melody and I both looked at Lissa trying to figure out what she was talking about. "I think I skipped 19. I'd been on the road as a model for six years and before I was 20 I had a baby. I never did get to the point where I felt like I was an adult and could solve my own problems. I always had to have someone help me." "On the road?" Melody asked. "Lissa, you're an adult. You're married and have kids and everything." "I have two great kids and an ex-husband. I also have a good shrink who listens to me for an hour a week while I dump out my frustrations, and a racquetball partner who bears the brunt of my physical outbursts on the court. That's you, by the way, in case you were looking for someone else. Even when my marriage was falling apart, though, there were people around that I could talk to who helped me through, whether it was watching the kids, referring me to a good lawyer, or even making my travel arrangements. I never became an adult who could do everything by herself. I really admire you, Tony." "Even I can tell that was sarcastic," I mumbled. "Don't you like what we've got, Tony?" Melody's voice was scarcely above a whisper, but in the straight-walled enclosure of the court it echoed—or maybe it was only in my head that it was echoing. "I love what we've got, Melody. This week has been the brightest spot in my entire year until our meeting with Prof. McIntyre today. Then school just seemed like it took everything away. And ... well, I guess I'm not really sure what we've got. Don't get me wrong. I love the um..." I glanced at Lissa. "You know." "Sex," Lissa supplied. "Um ... yeah. But I don't know what kind of relationship we have. We haven't really talked a lot about that." "We've kind of had other things to do when we get together." "Sex," Lissa repeated. We finally both looked at her and giggled. "Yeah. Really, really great..." "Sex." Melody finished my sentence. We all laughed. Man it felt good just to get all that out and talk about what's going on. "All right, look you two. First off, nothing ever gets better all at one time, but it does get better. Sex is great. In fact, it's better than great. But Melody, did you even know Tony was feeling like this?" Melody shook her head. "You guys need to talk some besides jumping each other." "We have so little time together," I complained. "All the more reason to use some of it to connect in some way other than genitally. Don't get me wrong. You're probably both getting a lot of comfort and relief from sex, but it might be increasing your stress level, too. If you think you might want more than sex later, you'd better find out if you both have the same expectations. Otherwise, I give this about a week more, tops." "Geez, are you a psychiatrist, Lissa?" "No." "What do you do?" Melody asked. I think she was trying to give us a break from the intensity of our discussion. It worked. "I'm a fashion buyer at Forever Lilly." "The clothing chain? Wow!" "It's really not as glamorous as it sounds, but it is pretty fun. It's where models go when they can't make it on the runway anymore." "So modeling for our class isn't the first time you've modeled." "No, though usually I had to 'work the dress.' It's a little different when you don't have clothes on, but not much. But that's a long time ago. I married my agent when I was 18, was pregnant when I was 19, and by the time I divorced four years later, I had two kids and a mortgage. I needed some serious getting my life together." "But that means you're only, like, not even 30! I thought you were a lot older." "Thanks. I think. I look like an old lady to you?" "No! You just act so mature and you've accomplished so much." "And you used to be the Senior Women's Racquetball Champion." "Well, I don't know where you got the senior part. Or used to be. I'm the current Women's Open National Champion. I just won it in October. I just don't make a big deal about it." "Why do you even bother to play with kids like me?" I asked. "Tony, I like playing with you. You're fast, energetic, and dedicated. You've got spin that I don't see among most of my competitors. I should ask you why you aren't competing." "Like I'd stand up against that kind of heat. I can't even beat you." "Bet you could beat everyone else who plays here, though," Lissa said. "Think about it. Who do you lose to at this club besides me? No one. You're the best training competition I can get here." "Wow, Tony! That's so cool. I knew you were good, but I didn't know you were that good." "If you had any doubts, that last solo skirmish should have canceled them. Do you know how hard it is to return your own kill shots? You kept that ball flying for about 30 volleys. And it just kept going faster. I'm serious. You'd wipe me up if you played like that when we go at it." "Thanks you guys," I said. "That makes me feel better about everything but school. But it's a lot." Between exhaustion from my workout and being drained from venting, I was beginning to sag. "Our court-time is about up," Lissa said. "Tell you what. You go relax in the hot-tub and I'll go try to seduce your girlfriend. Sounds like a fair trade, doesn't it?" Melody's eyes popped open like she'd lose her eyeballs and I got an instant stiffening in my shorts. "Look, Melody," she said, leaning over to blow in her ear. "I think he kind of likes that idea. You've got a kinky boyfriend, lucky girl." Melody looked at me and I saw a smile creep across her face as she pointedly looked at my crotch. Then she did what neither Lissa or I expected. She turned and planted a smoldering kiss on our racquetball mentor. "Oh my! I need a shower," she said as she stood up. We all got up to leave and I noticed the two guys standing outside waiting for their court time. As we left the court they grinned at us. It took a long time in the steam room before I remembered to be depressed. ------- The next week was just as tough as the previous week was, but Melody and I managed some quality time where we actually talked to each other instead of trying to devour each other. And we got some of the other kind of quality time, too, though not anywhere near what we wanted. Midterms were in two weeks and the profs were really loading on the work. It seemed like we had to cover twice as much in art history in half the time. Lissa asked us to spend the weekend with her this week and I just had to ask Melody about the kiss. It was so hot and it kept replaying in my mind. "So what kind of experience did you have before you gave me your virginity?" Melody asked. "Five fingers and a little groping on a hot date," I answered truthfully. "Yeah. Pretty much me too, though I'd had a little girl-girl action. Just like kissing and touching stuff. I've always known I was equally attracted to men and women. I hope you don't find that offensive. Don't you wonder what other experiences are out there? Don't get me wrong. I love sex with you. I might even love you, but don't hold me to that yet. The thing is, I ... we don't know beans about 90% of sex." "If what we've got is only 10%, I'm sure the rest would kill me!" "It'd be fun to try, though, wouldn't it? You see ... oh geez ... that kiss with Lissa? It wasn't the first time." "The first time you kissed a girl?" "The first time I kissed Lissa. When I first thought about seducing you, I considered inviting Sandra or Amy to help, but I don't trust them exactly. With Lissa? Can you trust her?" I raised an eyebrow, a little worried. "Don't panic. She's missing some vital equipment. But still ... can't you just imagine us all together?" I couldn't deny that the idea of anything with Lissa turned me on. I'd probably had more fantasies about her than anyone I'd met in the past year, and when you tossed Melody into the mix, the possibilities seemed endless. "You don't think she's serious, do you?" "She invited us to her house this weekend. She says the kids will be with their dad and we could come and ... I think she said, 'sketch to our hearts' content, ' if I remember the exact words. Did you think she meant landscapes?" "I thought maybe she was just giving us a chance to be together." "She is. All three of us." ------- Friday was a tough day for Lissa. She was an experienced runway model, but posing without moving is hard work. Every student in the class got to pose her and do a 15-minute sketch. She got a 15-minute break every hour. That meant she worked from 9:00 in the morning until 4:30 in the afternoon with only a slightly longer break for lunch. Melody and I had the last two timeslots on the schedule and Lissa sighed when I moved my easel to the center spot. All the other students except Melody had left. Even Prof. McIntyre had left and told me to turn out the lights when we were through. Normal rules say that a model has to put on her robe during breaks, but as we were setting up, Lissa just stood there looking at us. I guess I was looking at her, too. "Why don't you two do your sketches at my place?" she asked. "There's really no reason for us to stay here any longer, is there?" Melody nodded and we grabbed our easels and equipment as Lissa dressed. "My car is at the loading dock," Lissa said. "They gave me a special permit for the day." When we got downstairs, the car was the same burgundy Mazda SUV that Melody had driven two weeks ago. Lissa unlocked and as we loaded our gear I shot a quizzical look at Melody. "Whose house did you think we were at?" she asked. "I didn't know. I thought it was just a friend of yours." "Yeah, well, it is." Lissa's house was just as I remembered it. In fact, our props were still set up in the lower level. We set up our easels, lights, drapes, and paints. "Guys, do you mind if we don't start working right away?" Lissa asked. She'd watched the set-up, but she definitely looked tired. "That was a long day and I could really use a nice long soak and a glass of wine. Want to join me?" "Where? I didn't know you had a hot-tub." "Jacuzzi in the master bath. I take it you two never made it to that room when you were here." "Never even occurred to us," Melody said. "We were kind of occupied." We went to the kitchen and Lissa handed me a bottle of white wine and a corkscrew. I looked at them and figured I could manage it. I'd never opened a bottle of wine that had a cork. She handed Melody a tray of cheese and crackers that was already on the counter to warm up to room temperature and then reached for a bowl of grapes. She turned to me. "Are we going to need all of these for your sketch?" "Um ... no. Just one medium bunch." I reached over and used the kitchen scissors on the counter to cut a section apart from the rest and Lissa put it on a plate in the fridge. She brought the rest with her as she led us to her bedroom. I was raised to respect people's privacy, so it really hadn't occurred to me to open the door to the master bedroom when we'd visited two weeks ago. If I had, I'd have realized right away that it was Lissa's house. There were pictures of her and her kids all over the room. It was such a complete difference from the rest of the house that was sparsely decorated with art pieces and modern furniture. This looked like a Victorian bedroom and sitting room. It even had a fireplace in one corner and a huge high bed that dominated the main room. "I pretty much live in the master suite," Lissa said. "The boys love to play all over the house, but when they go away for the weekend, everything goes back into their rooms and the rest of the house is just for show." "This is beautiful," Melody said. Lissa lit the sitting room fireplace and stepped into the bathroom. The fireplace was two-sided so the gas fire could be seen from both the sitting/dressing area and the huge marble tub and shower in the bathroom. Lissa continued moving around the bathroom, lighting candles and filling the tub. She set the wine, cheeses, and grapes around the foot-and-a-half wide tub edge and turned to smile at us. "Well, don't just stand there," she said. "Let's enjoy it." With that she casually slipped out of her blouse and skirt. Artist models are allowed privacy to dress and undress. They approach the dais with a robe on, get in position and then hand the robe to the instructor. Students never watch the model undress. I was dumb-struck watching Lissa slip out of real clothes, realizing for the first time that she wasn't posing as a model, she was undressing for me ... us. Melody nudged me and I was suddenly aware that I was the only one in the room with clothes on. I undressed. At least it wasn't a stubby little dick that I'd be embarrassed about. Geez. Isn't there some stage between non-existent and raging hard-on? We all three stepped into the spa. The tub was so big we probably could have put three more in it. "This is so nice," Lissa said, leaning back with just her chin and head above water. I caught another glimpse of her nipples as they rose above the water just before the jets kicked in and bubbles covered us all. "I hardly ever use this because it's so big. I'm afraid I'd drown in it and no one would ever know." She poured a little wine for each of us and handed us the glasses, then raised them in a toast. "Here is to a relaxing weekend filled with art, music, and friends. May it be a time of discovery." We clinked our glasses and had a sip of the wine. For a while we just sat in the tub together unwinding and eating. As our legs relaxed, our feet and ankles touched and then more of our legs wound together. In the process, we all ended up lying in the tub next to each other with me in the middle. Melody snuggled up to my left and I wrapped my arm around her. Her breasts against my wet skin felt so delicious. Lissa looked across me to her and raised an eyebrow. Melody shook her head as their silent communication continued. Lissa slid against me in exactly the same position on my right side and her hard nipples raked against my chest. She turned her head and kissed my shoulder. At the same time, Melody raised her lips and nibbled on my earlobe. I squeezed both ladies in a hug. I was in heaven. The slight pressure and the way their buoyant bodies were bounced around by the jets pushed them both toward the center and they looked at each other for a few seconds before moving their heads together for a kiss. I could see it was just lips for a bit, but as they continued Lissa sucked gently at Melody's lower lip and then slipped her tongue across it. I could see Melody's tongue thrust toward our friend and make contact. It was so hot to watch them kissing while using my chest as a pillow that I almost burst. "Oh!" I groaned. Two hands reached my cock at the same time and gently stroked up and down. There was little I could do to respond since I had an arm trapped behind each woman. As if they were communicating through their tongues, both lifted up until their lips were even with mine. With only a slight turn of their heads, we were all three included in the kiss. A three-way kiss can simply be a tangle of noses and cheekbones. But if you are as relaxed as we were, it just sort of works out. They were anchored to the center by their grip on my cock and my hands could drift down their backs to caress their beautiful asses. Lissa's favorite move of sucking my lower lip and pulling it back exposed interesting contact points as Melody ran her tongue along the inner lip and my teeth. Then I nipped Lissa's upper lip with my teeth and felt Melody's tongue slide into the older woman's mouth. We just kissed like that forever. Sometimes two would become deeply passionate while the third rained light kisses over their cheeks and eyes. Sometimes all three would meet for a mid-air tongue battle. We rubbed noses, cheeks, and even fluttered our eyelashes across an exposed neck or raised chin. We parted, looked into our partners' eyes and then moved back together. We were making love to each other without ever having intercourse. But somehow, I suspected that would work out as well. The water was actually beginning to cool a little and we were getting shriveled. At least parts of us were. They let go of my cock and rolled off me. That finally gave me access to put my hands in more interesting places and both seemed willing to let me explore their bodies. I couldn't help but compare Lissa's slightly larger firmer breasts to Melody's exquisite softness, right up to the points of her nipples. When my hands slid down their stomachs and I felt the smooth shape of their pussies, Lissa stood up. "Come on, you two. The water's getting cold." She stepped out of the tub and grabbed three towels off a rack. They were warm and fluffy. I started to dry myself off, but Lissa put a stop to that. "I didn't give you your towel," she grinned. I got the idea and reached out with the towel I was holding to dry her. Lissa started drying Melody and I felt Melody pat me dry with the towel she held. It was a tangle of arms, legs, and towels as we each tried to get someone else dry. We ended up giggling like crazy as we followed Lissa toward her huge bed. She pulled the covers down and we all tumbled in, still playing and tickling one another. This time, Melody landed in the middle. Both Lissa and I were stroking her body and massaging her breasts. "Take it easy there, stud," Lissa said. "Have you asked how Melody likes to have her breasts played with? How about it Mel? Do you like rough stuff or a lighter touch?" Melody's eyes flicked open and looked at us. "Gosh. I never thought about the differences. I like it when Tony touches me, but sometimes it is a little rough." "You have to tell him what you like." "Um ... I like it when you do that kind of feathery touch where you just run your fingers over my breasts. It makes me feel all gooey." "Like this?" Lissa demonstrated and I recognized that I'd done that once or twice, but I didn't realize how much Melody liked it. I copied the moves as I saw Lissa do them and Melody squirmed on the bed. "Oh! Oh, I like that! I like it because I just know that at any moment you'll brush up against my nipple, but I don't know when. The suspense is killing me." Lissa grinned at me and I copied her as she started at the bottom of Melody's breast and began lightly spiraling upward toward the tip. Just before she reached the pink areola, though, she let her fingers glide back down. I chased them with my hand off the other breast and we both ended up gliding across her pubic bone and then circling back up toward her delectable orbs. Melody was going crazy. Our hands crossed and this time I circled the breast closest to Lissa and she caressed the one closest to me. I noticed with pleasure that when I circled Melody's breast, the back of my hand brushed against Lissa's breast and she caught her breath. She smiled at me and circled around Melody's breast again so that when I copied her I brushed across her nipple again. This time, instead of tracing down her stomach, we crossed between the breasts and up on the other side. Melody moaned out, "please." Lissa smiled at me again and positioned her hand so that her fingertips and thumb were spread around the breast, but the palm wasn't touching. When she saw that I'd copied the position, she began to draw the fingers up toward the nipple, finally sliding across the areola and just before we reached the tips of her nipples, squeezing just a little and letting go completely. Melody gasped. Her body went rigid and her butt lifted up off the bed. "Ohhhhh! Oh god! Oh. You ... You just made me come without even touching my pussy. You only ... you barely touched my nipples. Oh god!" "Pleasure for a woman isn't a formula, Tony. You can't just do what you did last time and expect the same result. You mix the game up a little bit, find out what is pleasing to your partner, and then let the tension build until she explodes." I'd have answered her, but Melody had grabbed the back of my head and pulled it down for a hot, searing kiss. As soon as she let me go, she pulled Lissa to her and gave her some of the same. "Thank you. Thank you so much." "Are you all satisfied now?" Lissa asked. "You aren't going to stop are you? No, I'm not satisfied. I want more!" Lissa laughed. "Isn't that what you want to hear from your lover, Tony? 'More. I want more?' Most women can climax several times to each time a man comes. Maybe not every time, but often. When she wants more, you want to be able to give her more. So you have to use everything you've got to please her. "Your lips." Lissa stroked a finger across my lips and it sent shivers down my spine. "Your tongue." She said that just as my tongue darted out of my mouth to lick her finger. It was like a reflex. She dragged her finger down my chin, my throat, and my chest until she circled my nipple, then flicked back up across my shoulder and down my arm to my hand. "Your fingers." Her hand continued, sliding down my leg and then back up the inside of my thigh to circle my balls and stroke slowly up... "Your cock." I shuddered and took a deep breath. Melody responded the same way. I looked at her and her eyes were glassy and unfocused as she listened intently to every word Lissa said. My cock, as it happened was only inches away from Melody's pussy and Lissa crossed from my body to hers in one unhurried stroke from the middle of her thighs up to Melody's parted labia. "Even your voice," Lissa whispered. Melody jumped straight into the air as Lissa stroked once across her clit. She cried out in orgasm, panting for breath. "Are you satisfied now, Little One?" "N ... no. I ... want ... more." "Isn't that lovely to hear?" Lissa parted Melody's legs and the two of us lay side-by-side between them staring up into Melody's wide open pussy. "Did you know Latin is the foundation of all Romance languages? Repeat after me," Lissa instructed as she began pointing out the features of what we were looking at. "Pudendum. Outer labia. Inner labia. Vagina. Urethra. Clitoris. Perineum. Anus." I repeated each word as Lissa's fingers outlined each part of Melody's sex. "All can be stimulated. Now here is one more Latin word." Lissa leaned forward and ran her tongue all the way from Melody's anus to her clitoris and back. "Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes. That feels so good!" "Cunnilingus," Lissa whispered. She moved aside far enough that I could repeat the gesture with my tongue and repeat the word back to her. "Cunnilingus." Melody had pulled her legs up and back to open herself as widely as she could and give us both access. I stayed focused on what Lissa was doing with her tongue and each time she showed me a way to stimulate some part of Melody, I repeated the gesture. Melody was writhing on the bed, gasping out incoherent words and phrases as she came repeatedly. Then Lissa backed away just as far as my ear so she could continue to whisper instructions as I continued to bathe Melody with my tongue. "Your tongue in her vagina. Circle her clitoris but don't press down on it. Suck the outer labia. Tickle the anus. Finger on perineum while you tongue vagina. Light stroke of thumb on anus while your finger slides into her vagina. Suck her clitoris and flick the tip with tongue. Flatten your tongue against her clitoris as your finger slips into her vagina. Curl your finger upward and vibrate it lightly against the urethra. Shake your head a little." That did it. Melody's legs shot out straight as she screamed. For a minute, Lissa and I were both trapped beneath her legs as she tried desperately to squeeze them together around both of us. Her pussy was drenched in juices that ran down my lips and chin. If Lissa had neighbors nearby, I'm sure they would have called the police. Just when I thought Melody was finished and her legs were relaxing, I guess I let my tongue flick her clit one more time and she screamed again. When Melody finally relaxed enough for us to move, Lissa and I rolled onto our sides with our cheeks resting on Melody's mound. Lissa kissed me and licked Melody's juices off my face. My cock was pressed between her legs and I could feel her hand stroking my balls. I desperately wanted to fuck her and nudged forward. Lissa pulled back enough to signal me to wait. It was hard, but I did as she said, holding still with my cock poised at her moist entrance. "Little One? Are you satisfied?" There was a long silence and I thought maybe Melody had gone to sleep. I couldn't really see more than her chin as I looked up between her beautiful breasts. Then I heard the whisper. "N ... nn ... no? M ... m ... more, please?" My god, she could hardly speak and she was still asking for more. Lissa smiled at me and moved away. She guided me by the cock until I crawled up above Melody. Lissa positioned my cock at Melody's pussy and slowly guided me in. The growl in Melody's throat started low and increased until I was fully buried. Then her eyes snapped open and locked on mine. Her arms wrapped around me and pulled me tight against her body. "Ohhh! God!!! I love you, Tony!" She hauled my face to hers and kissed me with such passion that I stopped breathing. I could feel my heart pounding in every extremity of my body and it was matched beat for beat with hers where we were joined. I knew I was close, but I had to satisfy Melody. I needed to satisfy her. I pulled back and thrust in again. One more time and Melody erupted. I could feel every muscle in her vagina as it clamped down on me. At the same time, I felt Lissa's fingers press in beneath my balls and I exploded with such force I was sure I would pass out. "Melody! I ... Love ... You!" I shouted out as every spurt from my cock seemed to be matched by a convulsion in her pussy. When I finally remembered to breathe again, I rolled to the side and brought Melody with me so we were facing each other. I felt Lissa crawl up my back, hauling the covers over the three of us as we lay there. I was sandwiched again between Melody and Lissa with my cock still inside. Melody looked over my shoulder and I could feel Lissa's lips there as they kissed. "Satisfied," Melody whispered. She closed her eyes and we all drifted off to sleep. ------- When Melody and I awoke in the morning, we were lying side-by-side, no longer connected as we were when we went to sleep, but pressing together, nonetheless. Lissa wasn't in bed with us. We could smell coffee and hear her moving in the kitchen. "Thank you for last night," Melody said as she kissed me softly. "It was wonderful," I said. "Did you ... did you mean it?" she asked, suddenly unable to meet my eyes. I thought back. It's one thing to tell a woman you love her when you're blasting your semen deep inside her. But in the light of day? The next morning? It dawned on me that I wasn't depressed this morning. In fact, I felt better than I had in months. I smiled and lifted her chin so she could look me in the eye again. "Yes. I love you, Melody." She didn't answer with words. ------- We were all downstairs in our makeshift studio. None of us bothered to put clothes on after we woke up. We all showered together and this time took turns toweling one another dry so it wasn't quite the mass confusion of limbs and towels it was the night before. We were all relaxed. Somehow, being constantly in the presence of these two incredible women, my cock kept going from half-mast to full-mast, but never shriveled to its customary peanut size. Melody won the toss, so Lissa posed for her first. The pose was almost exactly the same as I posed two weeks ago. I could see as she worked that this sketch was far superior to the one of me. Maybe we'd been a little too focused on hurrying our sketches so we could fuck some more. Melody's style was simple and bold. She captured the cat in Lissa. The tension was there. The grace was there. The power was there. We had the leisure to work a little longer on each sketch than we would have had in class and Lissa held the pose for longer than we ever normally ask of a model. When Melody was finished with the sketch, Lissa relaxed and stretched her back and shoulders. She came over to look at Melody's drawing. As we admired her work, I reached up and started massaging Lissa's shoulders. We'd worked on each other a little after matches and I knew she liked to have me dig my thumbs into her traps and delts. She was purring and leaned back against me as she talked to Melody about the drawing. My cock was rock hard against Lissa's ass, just from giving her a little massage. Melody looked up at us and smiled. She reached over and began working on Lissa's left leg. This was no playful stroking, but some serious massage. Lissa was tight as a drum and after about ten minutes with her leaning against me and being rubbed by the two of us, she was beginning to melt. I went to the kitchen to get her a bottle of water. When I got back, Melody and Lissa were in front of my setting looking at the drawings I'd done of Melody two weeks ago. I could just see Lissa positioning herself as she looked at the drawing. She raised a hand above her head, then looked at the setting and switched hands. She twisted a little one way, then the other. When Lissa had finished her water and was ready to go back to work, we talked about the pose and what I wanted to capture. "I think I've got the body position down," Lissa said. "But there's something..." She went over to stand in front of the daybed. She looked at it, repositioned a pillow slightly and turned back toward us. "I think you are going to have to show me exactly how you got that expression on her face." I looked at Melody and she grinned at me. I smiled. "It will take a little time, but I think we can put that smile on your face," I said. Lissa bit her lower lip coyly. Melody and I advanced on her. We had all weekend for sketching. ------- Chapter 3 Monday was a great day. After a weekend spent with two incredible women who both wanted to take regular play-breaks, I was so sexually sated and so much in love that I could hardly stand it. Of course, Melody and I both had to stay up most of Sunday night doing the projects that were due for classes on Monday morning, but that's college life. Half the dorm was up all night doing the same thing. I was so tired by Monday evening that when I went to the club to play racquetball, I got totally smeared by a guy I'd beaten in straight sets three weeks ago. Even my serves were off and I fouled away the final point. I fell into bed Monday night and almost missed my first class on Tuesday by the time I woke up. That was a great start to Tuesday. Not to mention the fact that in Fundamentals we spent three hours sizing canvases. It's messy. That spray starch from Magic or Niagara doesn't come close to getting your hands in and painting a coat of what amounts gooey glue on a canvas that is 30 feet wide and 15 feet deep that will be used for a theater backdrop. And you can't just throw the stuff at the canvas because if it isn't in a smooth, even coat, you can get lumps and sags. All I wanted after class was a hot shower, but of course I had to go to Art Orientation immediately after I got out of Fundamentals and barely had time for lunch, let alone a shower. I played racquetball on Tuesday, but I had a massive paper describing the transition from Realism to Impressionism and what influences were at play for Art History due on Wednesday. I made a quick call to the gym and rescheduled my court time for Wednesday afternoon instead. Phil might be pissed, but you could almost always pick up a new partner if one flaked out. I got to bed again and didn't sleep well because I didn't have any exercise during the day, except for my right arm, which was sore because I was wielding an 8" brush heavy with flex glue all morning. And what did I care anyway because school was a shitbag and I'd never pass this semester anyway. I didn't know why I was here in the first place. Even when Melody caught up with me after dinner, she said I smelled so bad that I should really consider clean clothes tomorrow. She barely pecked me on the cheek and said she had to go study something for her Textiles class or something. I hated this school and I didn't really care if everyone knew it. Yeah, I know. Whine, whine, whine. What a pussy. It seemed like I simply couldn't control my life or my emotions or even carve out time to connect with my lover. Lovers. Even my love life was confusing. When was I going to see Lissa again? I dropped my paper in the basket at the door of the auditorium where Dr. Bychkova was about to lecture to yet another sleeping class. I'd just settled into my seat when the TA announced over the PA that I was supposed to report to the Dean's office immediately after class. Of course he had to announce it over the PA because he didn't have the foggiest idea who I was, so half a dozen kids who do know me swiveled in their seats to stare at me and raise eyebrows as if to ask me what was up. That movement near me caused the rest of the class to turn and stare to see who the dunce was that got called to the principal's office. I felt like I was in third grade and it completely ruined the nap during Doc's lecture. ------- When I walked into Dean Peterson's office and told his admin, Miss Stevenson, that I'd been summoned, she motioned me to a seat and I found there were four other students sitting waiting as well. "I'm sorry," Dean Peterson said when he came out of his office. "I was going to do this all at once, but I've decided I need to speak to each of you individually. Jason Roe?" A guy sitting next to me stood up and went with the Dean. My stomach growled, but it was a cinch I wasn't going to get any lunch again today. I sniffed at my clothes—thankfully I'd found something fairly clean to wear today—thinking I might not make it to Visual Concepts. Ms. Brockman wouldn't be happy about that. It took almost an hour for Dean Peterson to get through the others sitting in the office. The secretary had taken down our names as we came in, so I was sitting there last as everybody else walked out. At least they didn't look like they were being expelled. In fact, most of them had a kind of vacant, daydreamy look on their faces. "Tony, at last," Dr. Peterson said when I walked in. "I'm sorry it took so long to process the others, but I wanted to spend some time with you anyway. I'll make sure Ms. Brockman understands that your absence is my fault." He looked at me as though he expected me to say something. I had no idea what. I just said, "Okay." The Dean sorted through some papers, setting aside two folders. That left just one on his desk. I assumed it was mine. How could the school compile a folder that thick on me in just one and a half semesters? "How are you doing, Tony?" What the hell did he want me to say? "Um ... okay." Boy I was being creative in my responses today. "I deserved that. You really don't know me from Adam and I ask a question expecting you to be forthright and revealing about yourself. Forget I asked it. Let me start over." I was about to say okay again, but I decided I'd better not push it. "We're a small school. Still, when a student comes here, it's just as likely that he feels as lost and alone as he would at a big university. The difference is that the faculty here actually know their students. Of course there are a few big general classes, but aside from Art History, what is the biggest class you have?" "You mean number of students? Uh... 25." Boy, was I a wordsmith today! "Right. It might surprise you to know that each of your professors actually knows your name and how you are doing." I laughed nervously. "What?" "It's hard to imagine that Dr. Bychkova even knows there is a class in the auditorium when he lectures." "Yes. Well, there are exceptions. And I already pointed out his class as an exception to class size. But in this case, even Dr. Bychkova has supplied me with a report on your progress." I gulped. I didn't think I'd screwed anything up too bad in Art History. And did that mean all my profs supplied some report to the Dean? Shit! "Your instructors speak highly of you, Tony. But they all seem to think you are unhappy here. Your work doesn't live up to what they see as your ability. They see you get inspired with something and do work that is outstanding, but that your daily work is average. I know you are an artist, Tony, but you can't work solely from inspiration. What do you see as the problem?" "It's boring. I swung an 8" paint brush for three hours yesterday loaded with flex glue. Three hours painting a house would have been more profitable." "Yes. That's a cost of a Fine Arts education. There's a lot of work that goes into operating a studio and someone has to do it. I'm sure you would find the same attitude among the theater techs, the graphic arts students, and even the dancers. In order to have painted sets, you have to have stretched canvases for the backdrops. In order to paint those canvases, you have to have them sized. It is part of being an artist, even if it is a boring and tedious part. It's like playing scales on the piano." "But that's not fair. There's no intellectual challenge here. It's like just because we are artists, we're not supposed to read or do math. It makes it feel like getting a BFA is just for kids who can't cut studying. We might as well get a degree in auto mechanics or better yet, street paving." Wow! Did I just tell the Dean that I thought the degree I was aspiring to was worthless? Yeah. I guess I did. Fuck. "Good point. And, in general, your professors agree. Especially about you. You are a talented artist, but your mind is turning to mush." This was it, I thought. Now he was going to tell me that I should leave. Well, that was fine. I was going anyway. "Are you familiar with Seattle Cascades University?" Dr. Peterson asked. "Just that it's another college a few blocks from here. Seems like there are colleges all over this city." "Actually, a pretty good little university. In fact, so good that we've begun exploring a shared curriculum with them. Back in the 70s, there was a big move toward specialization. Although art schools had been around for a while, the Fine Arts baccalaureate became something to be aspired to. It was a degree for those who would actually become professionals in their field. But academics for those individuals suffered. It seems now that there should be a compromise of some sort. So, we're looking at cross-disciplinary studies. Letting humanities students with talent take art classes here, for example. And letting our students with a more academic bent, take classes and even earn a degree from SCU." "You mean it might be possible to switch to a BA in Art instead of a BFA?" That would answer a problem. Of course, I was pretty sure I'd be accepted on an Art BA at UNeb and not have to move back to depressing Seattle. Depressing except that Melody and Lissa are here. Damn it! How am I supposed to make this kind of decision. "Not quite. SCU doesn't offer a BA in Art. But it does offer a degree in Art and Literary Criticism. Tony, we've got an experimental program we're working on that would provide certain talented students like yourself with double degrees. You could complete your BFA in Studio Art and a BA in ... You seem to have seen a strong interest in literature, right? Or, perhaps you'd like to focus on physical education." "Yessir. I mean, no sir. You mean I could earn two degrees at the same time?" "Yes, exactly. We would like to have you be one of the first dozen students who earn double degrees. The program is being offered to select students entering their sophomore year at each school. It is possible that you would need to take an extra semester or even two to finish, but you would receive a BFA from Pacific College of the Arts and Design, and a BA from Seattle Cascades University, awarded at a joint commencement." "I can't afford an extra semester," I said. "I don't want to leave school $100,000 in debt." "Part two of the offer. Full ride for as long as you maintain a 3.0 average. That means you'll have to focus and maintain grades even on the manual labor classes." "Full ride? That's incredible!" "Tony, we recruited you to come to our college. We did that because we thought you would make a significant contribution to the college, as a student and later, as an alumni. You may not realize it yet, but your professors here at PCAD are watching out for you and have noticed that you are unhappy. After talking to each of them, they have agreed that you are an ideal candidate for this program. What do you think?" "It sounds too good to be true. I was thinking of transferring out." "You wouldn't be the first good student we'd lost." "Can I think about it a little?" "Of course. I don't expect you to make this big a decision without thinking about it." "Thank you, sir." "There is one more thing." "Yes sir?" "I'm informed that you are also an athlete." "I try to keep it a secret, sir." He actually laughed. I was feeling pretty bold right now since I wasn't being expelled. "I've often wished we had a sports program here at PCAD. But SCU does have one." "I play racquetball. It's not exactly an NCAA varsity sport." "But there is a collegiate conference. Part of the package is an athletic scholarship to play racquetball for SCU, effective immediately. Your current class registrations will be officially transferred to the joint program which would make you eligible for the USAR National Intercollegiate Championships next month." "SCU has a racquetball team?" "No. You would be it." "I'd... ?" I didn't even know what kind of question to ask. This was overwhelming. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hold you here so long this afternoon. You've missed most of your Visual Concepts class, so why don't you take off early for the gym. That will be a good place to think things over. Stop by before your first class on Friday and let me know what you're thinking. I'll let you get on to your practice. By the way, if you accept this deal, your court-time will be covered by the joint school athletic committee. Enjoy your exercise, Tony." I was dismissed. Just like that. I wondered if I walked out of his office with the same dazed look that I'd seen on the faces of those who were before me. I had to close my mouth or I'd be drooling. How the heck did Dean Peterson know I rescheduled my court time for this afternoon? ------- "Focus!" Another shot hit me square in the chest as my racquet swished at empty air. "Get your head in the game or I'm going to put the next one right down your throat." Lissa really growled at me. I'd never seen her so intense. She gave me a wicked serve right back along the wall and it barely touched the floor before it came off the back wall low in the corner. By some miracle, I caught it with the tip of my racquet and even though it wasn't in the sweet spot, I got enough on the ball to slam it into the end wall without lifting it more than six inches off the floor. This time Lissa growled as she scrambled back to her original spot and slammed the ball back to me again. My head finally snapped into the game and I was just 'there' when the ball came back. I gave it enough back spin on my return that it hit the front wall and died. There was no way Lissa could get to it. She screamed like it was her victory. "Yes!" I looked at her like she was crazy and the look in her eyes told me she might just be. She set up to serve again without hesitating. I was ready for the heat this time and drove the ball off two corners and down to the floor. She sent it back to me just as hard and I had to take it off the back wall. She spiked. I returned. She came in low and I dropped the ball dead by pulling my racquet back just at the moment I made contact. She dove at the ball and returned it, but it bounced back off the wall and hit her for an interference call. No point. The rest of the match followed the same pattern. When I had come into the court, I was still thinking about what the dean had told me. I was surprised to find Lissa there. She said she always played on Wednesdays and snapped me up when my name came up on the rotation. I wasn't doing well processing things for the first several volleys. There was too much going on in my life. I looked at Lissa in a whole new way and she got irritated with me. God! I'd been in that gorgeous woman's bed this weekend. In her. The last time she yelled at me, somehow it got through to me and suddenly I couldn't see or hear anything but the little blue ball as it flew around the room. I was the ball. It was wherever I was. I simply couldn't miss. I think it is the first time I ever beat Lissa in a match. And I was sure she hadn't held back. When she called out the final score it didn't even register in my brain that I'd won. When she wrapped her arms around me for a hug, we squished together like a couple of wet sponges. Then it hit me. I'd just won. Man I felt great! I could just do this forever. ------- We left the court and two guys I didn't recognize were standing outside. I hadn't really been aware of them before, but I vaguely remembered seeing them when I went onto the court. They must have watched the whole game. One was wearing the white polo shirt and blue warm-up pants of the club trainers. The other was in jeans, but wore a plaid shirt and tie with a corduroy sport coat. Lissa brought me up short as I was headed for the showers by grabbing hold of my arm and hauling me straight in front of the suit. The guy looked me up and down. I was still breathing pretty hard, but I stood up straight under his scrutiny. I wasn't sure what he was, but he seemed important. The club trainer had a clipboard and they glanced through the notes there and then back up at me. "What's going on?" I asked. I think I was asking Lissa, but I was looking at these two guys. "Tony, this is Mr. Jacobson, athletic director at SCU," Lissa said. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Jacobson," I said, holding out my hand to shake. He took it and shook it firmly. "I think you can call me Sam. If all goes well, we'll be seeing a lot of each other. Let me introduce John Gilbert. John is a personal trainer here at the club." We shook hands. "What's this all about?" I asked. I had a suspicion, but... Gee! ... I'd only had my conversation with the Dean a couple of hours ago. What was the rush? "Tony, you talked to Dean Peterson a little while ago. I'm not exactly sure you understood what he was offering you on behalf of both Pacific College of the Arts and Design and Seattle Cascades University. I was sent down to assess your potential for the athletic portion of your scholarship and to discuss your training program. SCU doesn't have a racquetball club yet, so bringing on an athlete in that area is a stretch for us. It means that we don't have coaches or other staff that could help you. And, while you will have access to SCU facilities, we can't really provide training staff in time for you to get ready for this year's regionals." They were really acting like this was all a done deal. An athletic scholarship? For an artist? Get real. I liked racquetball, but it's not a varsity sport. I looked at Lissa and began to shake my head. "I'm training for a return to Opens in the fall," Lissa said. "The best workout I get is from you. I've agreed to work as your coach for the Intercollegiate in exchange for you helping me get ready to defend my title." "I don't think I have time for this..." "We'll talk about your time, Tony," Lissa said, "First listen to the offer. John is my trainer here at the club. He's agreed to take you on as well. The trainer is not the coach. John will get you through three days a week of weight and flexibility training, including Pilates. It does absolute wonders for your reach." "The weight training is limited," John broke in, "because we don't want to tie up your speed in bulk. It's focused on increasing your power, not building up additional muscle. As for aerobics, you'll get enough of that three days a week when you train with Lissa." "Three days a week? I'm already fucking overwhelmed with school!" I blurted out. "Now you want to add three more days of training and longer workouts?" I was near tears. The fantasy Dean Peterson painted for me was just that—a fantasy. The reality was just a lot more stress in my life. I turned away. Lissa caught me before I got to the locker room door and caught my arm. "Just dress and get back out here," she commanded. "We'll shower and take a hot-tub at my place." "I've got homework." "Bring it with you. I'll help. Pull your head out of your ass and focus on me." I looked up into her intense blue eyes. I was still pissed and felt like shit. But I couldn't look away from her. "We're going to get you through this. We're going to do it together. Tony, this isn't just about you. I don't have a coach and I need your help, too. Now get dressed and be out here in five minutes." I just nodded and went into the locker room. ------- "There's 13 different weights of muslin and canvas used in studio and theater," I said. "I'm supposed to have a description of each one and its uses for a class presentation in Fundamentals tomorrow." Lissa was stretched out in the tub next to me. We were both naked, but it wasn't sexual this time. In fact, I was having a hard time even thinking of her sexually. We were sharing a hot-tub like any other two athletes would after a match. We each had a large bottle of cold water and were drinking steadily. I sweat so much during a hard workout that I can lose as much as three pounds in water weight. That's three pints of water I need to replenish to avoid dehydration. "And why have you waited until tonight to start this project?" "I was kinda busy this weekend." "God, Tony! You can't blame not getting your homework done on having two insatiably horny women around!" I looked over at Lissa. We held a straight face for almost five seconds before we both spit our drinks out of our mouths and broke down laughing. I laughed so hard it almost felt like an orgasm. I had visions of myself sitting at a desk writing a paper while Melody and Lissa made out naked on top of it. Yeah, sure. I could do that. I felt so much better after laughing that I just sank down in the tub and laid my head back on the edge. "What do you like best about school, Tony?" "Mmmm ... I like my girlfriend. And my ... um ... coach." "All right. Number one on Tony's 'why I like school' list is sex. We got that. What else." "I like painting. I mean really painting or even drawing. When I sit down at my easel, or when I pick up a sketch pad, I enter my own world. I could do it forever. That's why I thought I'd like art school. I'd be able to spend all my time in that zone. Like when I sketched you this weekend. I loved all the sexy things we were doing, but when I was sketching, it wasn't sexual. I was lost in the shadows. Did you know that when the light is right, there is a little extra shadow on your throat, right here?" I stroked the line of a vein along the right side of her neck from her jaw to where it disappeared beneath her collar bone. She shivered a little, but I was so caught up in remembering that one little detail and how lovingly I'd rendered it on paper that I scarcely noticed. "Did you know they say that an artist falls in love with every model? It's not that they want to have sex with every model—I'm sure not interested in old man Johnson's johnson—but drawing creates such an intimate connection that you see things that no lover would notice." Lissa took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm going to have a completely different attitude the next time I model," she said. "So, number two on the list is drawing and painting. What else. What has made you happiest since you've been here at school? What do you look forward to?" I paused for a few minutes and began going down the catalog of my classes. I really did like Art History, even though the class itself was boring. There were moments in Fundamentals and Concepts that I felt excited. Usually when I was mixing paint or had my hands in clay. But those all paled compared to drawing. There was one thing though that I really looked forward to two or three times every week. "Racquetball. It's funny. I just realized that when I'm on the court I get into a zone, just like when I'm painting. Did you know on court two there's a black scuff on the end wall about two feet off the floor and eight inches from the left corner? It's about three inches long. When I'm centering myself before a serve, I look at that black scuff mark. Everything in the room has a relationship with that one small point. When I hit the ball, I know how far and in what direction from the mark it will hit. I see an opponent's shot come off the wall in relation to where that mark is. I can feel the speed and direction of the ball and know where I need to be to get to it." "Fuck. You have got to teach me that." "Me? Teach you?" "I don't think there are more than a hundred racquetball players in the country who would understand anything you just said," Lissa said. "Probably only a dozen who do it. If it can be taught, I want to learn it. So number three on your list is racquetball. Anything else?" I thought for another minute, but I couldn't think of another thing I look forward to each week. I shook my head. "Okay, then. Here's the hard part. What do you hate?" That was going to be the hard part? "Everything!" "Wrong. You just listed three things that you love." "But two of them don't have anything to do with college." "Sure they do. They might not be curriculum, but they are as much a part of college life as Art History. Now, what specifically do you hate?" "I'm depressed all the time. I hate myself. I hate my life. I hate school." "Tony, look at me." She pulled my chin so I had to face her and get lost in the blue depths again. I wondered if she knew there were black flecks in her irises—all tiny streaks that point toward the center of her pupil. "Tony!" She snapped into focus and I pulled away from the draw of the zone. "Depression has causes. I'm looking for what causes your depression. What makes you sad, Tony?" ------- Once I started, it didn't take me long to list my top three reasons to hate college. I hated the boring classes where I had to sit without thinking for hours. I hated having so much pointless homework. And I surprised myself when I finally said, "I'm lonely." When we were done, the water was tepid and Lissa stood and offered me her hand as we got out of the Jacuzzi. I watched the water drip off her body and was drawn to the course it took off the ends of her hard nipples and the flow between her breasts that ran straight down her stomach and into her bare slit. When she reached to hand me a towel she noticed that I'd started to get hard. She grinned. She gave my cock a little tweak and said, "We need some dinner and you need to get started on your homework." We toweled off and Lissa put on a robe while I pulled my sweats on. I sat on a stool at the breakfast bar and opened my computer to start writing. Lissa started moving around the kitchen and I thought how motherly she seemed at the moment. I could imagine her making dinner while her two boys sat at the counter coloring. I realized how truly sweet a woman she was. "Where are your kids?" I asked. "Jack and I have shared custody. He's offered to keep them more of the time while I'm training." "You still get along well with your ex?" "We're good friends. He realized before I did that I jumped into marriage and a family before I was ready. He's been very supportive. I had savings from modeling and I did ended up with this house clear and free. It's a little easier raising children when there are two parents involved. Now work on your paper. I'm not going to talk while I'm making dinner." ------- Dinner was great. She cooked pork chops with braised red cabbage and fennel. Until my few dates with Melody and time at Lissa's house the past couple of weeks, I'd eaten about every meal since September in the college cafeteria. This was absolutely nothing like it. She served me half a glass of cold chardonnay to have with the meal, but told me I couldn't have any more until I'd finished my presentation. That was another surprise. Aside from glancing up to see Lissa's graceful form beneath the robe moving about the kitchen, I felt less distracted from getting my work done than anywhere at school. I knew most of the material, though I had to look up which grades of cotton duck were no longer in use before I figured out why there were only nine instead of 13. Each student is assigned an artist material to present and create a handout for the class. Doc Henredden figures we each learn something well and share our knowledge with the rest of the class. I figure it keeps him from having to print handouts himself. And to think that for this class I paid a $100 materials fee. I finished about eight o'clock. I showed the presentation to Lissa and she just said, "I had no idea!" Then she started to hand me another glass of wine. She held it just out of reach. "Any other assignments due tomorrow or Friday?" When I shook my head she handed me the glass. We sat companionably on the sofa for a few minutes. I glanced over at her and noticed she had allowed her robe to come loose. She wasn't technically exposing much, but the fact that I could see the curve of her breast through the gap and a long bit of thigh below the belt caused a stirring in my groin. Damn, she was beautiful. I reached toward her. She let me put my arm around her and leaned against me. "Do I have your attention now?" she asked. "Can we talk without an explosion?" I was suitably chagrined. I knew that I had to make this right with Lissa. "I'm sorry for acting like an ass this afternoon, Lissa. I really fucked things up, didn't I? I hope that at least you'll forgive me even if they withdraw my scholarship offer." "Well, they would have withdrawn the offer if they hadn't been forewarned about the possibility." "Who warned them?" "Who do you think went to the college and asked to authorize you to play?" "My god, Lissa! Did you... ? Oh god, I'm sorry. I just was so ... No. I won't go there. There's no excuse. I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry. Shit!" "That's a good start. Now come here and I'll show you the next step." She pulled my head toward her and softly kissed me. When she started, her lips were barely touching mine and we just brushed back and forth. As we kissed, she allowed a little more pressure, but her lips, though soft, did not part. It didn't grow into a passionate kiss, but I felt more love in that minute that our lips were together than I could ever remember feeling from a kiss. She pulled back and smiled at me. She turned her head and released the pressure on the back of my neck while continuing to pet my hair and leaned against me. "You listed three things you hate about your college experience and three things you love. Most people would say that's a good balance if it weren't for the items on the list. The things you love are all reasonable. Who wouldn't love sex? Painting is the thing that is nearest and dearest to you. And one of the best defenses against depression is exercise. In fact, it's why I took up racquetball. "What?" "After my divorce three years ago, I was a depressed single mom with nowhere to turn. My therapist suggested I take up jogging. One week and I said 'fuck this.' I wanted to beat something. Tennis is too slow. I chose racquetball. In three years I was a national champion. But I can't tell you how many hours I spent on that court. A lot more than you do now," she said. "Wow! I had no idea. You seem so ... together." "I'm better. But sex, painting, and racquetball aren't enough to combat boredom, stress, and loneliness. We have to see what we can do about that. First, you say the classes are boring. Well, that might be out of our reach. We can't go around replacing all your classes and instructors. From my experience, having one class you love out of five isn't a bad ratio. I remember one semester where I couldn't stand a single one of my classes." "What did you do?" "I withdrew before the first ten days of the quarter, pled a family emergency, and re-enrolled in the fall." "I can't do that." "Yeah. I didn't have any scholarships and wasn't on a professional program like yours. Let's table that one and move to number two. Too much pointless homework equals lots of stress. How much time do you spend on the class you just worked on? It took you about two hours to do that project and you don't have anything else due this week." "Yeah, but I'm on call for that stupid mural project all weekend and I have an Art History paper due on Monday, plus midterms. I won't have a chance to work on it or study till Sunday night." "Except you could work on it tonight and tomorrow night." "I suppose. But that means ... I ... we ... ummmm." "Don't worry, sweetheart. After I finish playing mother hen and counselor for a while, I've got a game of lover in mind. Just be patient. There are some things I want as much as you do." She emphasized her point by returning to our kiss. We just savored each other's lips for about five minutes. My wee little pecker was beginning to stretch his muscle ... or whatever it's called. "This can be very relaxing, you know?" "Yeah. I want to make love to you, but I feel like I don't want to move. I could just spend the night holding you like this." "Do you have a Daytimer?" Well, enough of that little fantasy. "I keep my schedule on my cell phone." "How often do you look at it?" "Whenever I need to write something down." She laughed. It wasn't just a little snort, it was an all-out belly laugh. I didn't think it was that funny. "Did you hear that? You only look at your reminders when you set them up. You don't look at them to remind you. What good are they?" "There's an alarm that goes off when something is due." "Then it's too late to do it. You need to be working on these projects days in advance, not when the alarm says it's due." "Like not waiting till Sunday night to do my Art History paper. I should know this. I'm in college. I had to do it all the way through high school. There's just no one to..." I stopped and realized what I was saying. I'd come from a pretty close family that held education as the number one priority—before dates, before parties, before racquetball. My dad is a teacher and Mom is just a mom. Not like that isn't enough. Anytime I headed out the door, either my mom or dad asked if I had my schoolwork done for the week. Not for tomorrow. For the week. I was still waiting for Mom to remind me to do my homework. What a helpless baby I was! "I'm not going to remind you to do your homework," Lissa said as if reading my mind. "I have two little boys of my own to ride herd on. I don't need a third. But I will help you put together a system where you can see, at a glance, what work you have for the next week or two and then look at it several times a day. Tony, get it off your phone and onto paper. I know that sounds like I'm a Luddite, but you are a visual thinker. If you don't see it in front of you, you don't think about it." "You're right. It seems like one more task to do." "Do it and the others will seem less daunting." She waited for me to respond and finally I nodded. "Now, the third problem. Tony, don't you have any friends?" "Um ... not really. We see each other in class. We talk in the lunchroom. But until Melody and I came here for that weekend, we'd only spoken to each other at lunch on Fridays. Everybody is so swamped with their classes they don't have time to hang out." "Ever stop to think that they might have the same problem? Everybody needs friends. You sometimes have to start things yourself, though." "It's hard. I don't like to talk about what's going on inside me. I have to see those people every day. I don't want them looking at me and thinking, 'There's the kid who misses his mommy, ' or something." "Do you miss your mommy?" "Well, sure. I don't mope around, but of course I miss her. And dad. I miss my best friend Beth who lived a couple houses down from me. And Miss Stone, my high school art teacher. Geez, we'd sit in her classroom after school sometimes and talk about art for an hour. And..." "Tony. You're homesick." I hung my head. "It's okay. How wonderful that you have family and friends that you miss. You thought you'd replace them all here, and you haven't. In fact, you can't. But there are people here who want to be friends." "Like?" "Me." She looked at me and pulled me in for another kiss. This one got quite a lot hotter. When we broke for air, my hand was inside her robe stroking her incredible breast. "Friends with benefits." If a smile can be loving and naughty at the same time, Lissa's came close. ------- I'd never been alone with Lissa—I mean not to make love. In our threesome, she had acted as either the tutor or as the object of our assault. The softness of her kisses was a direct indicator of how she liked to make love. I was half expecting that she'd go wild with just the two of us, but she wanted to go slow and loved soft feathery touches. In spite of the fact that we were both pretty much naked, we made out like high schoolers for an hour before we really got serious. Every step was taken slowly and savored. I think I spent ten minutes just tracing that vein in her neck that caused the extra shadow I'd seen while sketching her. I did it first with my fingers, then with my lips, and finally with my tongue. I knew for a fact how tough Lissa was. She had muscles where I wished I had muscles. But she loved being treated as if she was fragile and I touched her with the delicacy I would use when handling a blown glass butterfly. And she treated me the same way. It was a new experience. I discovered nerve connections between my shoulders and my eyes, my butt and my feet. Little touches in one place would cause my sensors to fire off in a completely different part of my body. I'm sure Lissa was instructing me on how to make love to her, but she did it without ever saying a word. She touched me and I felt the sensation and then I repeated the touch on her and she moaned. When we coupled, we were facing each other on our sides in almost the exact same position we'd been in while pleasuring Melody over the weekend. Our heads were on the same pillow as we kissed. I felt my cock—I'd been hard for an hour or more—sliding against her mound. She shifted slightly and instead of being over her stomach I was between her legs. We moved together and her juices joined mine, making her labia and my cock more and more slippery. She reached between us and guided me into her folds. I sank slowly inside and was totally consumed by her beauty. The position isn't designed for maximum penetration. It's difficult to get very deep but I discovered it provides a lot of stimulation to the clitoris. Lissa glided down the length of my cock with her button rubbing down and back up. I was shaking and saw that even that was mirrored in my lover. Every stroke caused a new vibration through our entire bodies. I was so in awe of Lissa that I didn't think of my own satisfaction at all. How could I not be satisfied? I just wanted her to be pleased. I wanted so desperately to feel her clamp down on me as she came. And like the feathery touches of our foreplay, we drew this out until neither of us could bear the tension. We clutched each other tightly and our mouths came together in a melding of tongues and lips. I felt her moan more than heard it and my own growl vibrated through her teeth and jaws. Neither of us would deny that we were coming, but the orgasm wasn't centered between our legs. It came from so deep inside both of us that I thought it would rip my lungs and heart out of my chest. I was buried in my friend, my mentor, my coach, my model. But as much as I was in her, she was wrapped in my arms, held in my mouth, and firmly embedded in my heart. We woke in the morning in the exact same position, and while a little more hurried, the blending of our spirits was just as profound. I barely made it to Fundamentals class on time. ------- Chapter 4 "Where the fuck were you?" Man, that came out of the blue. I left Fundamentals class and caught up with Melody to tell her the good news about my scholarship and racquetball, and before I could get a word out she explodes at me. She really doesn't swear that much, so her language took me by surprise. "What do you mean?" "I waited in the study lounge till midnight! We were going to work on our Fundies presentations together. You never showed up and then you waltz in here this morning and give a Broadway production while my stupid paper looks like a dog ate my homework and then threw it up. Where were you?" "Shit! I completely forgot we were going to meet up. I'm sorry. I had so much going on yesterday I was a total wreck. Melody, please forgive me." "Where were you?" It finally dawned on me that there was only one question on her mind. I cringed a little. "I was with Lissa. I spent the night over at her house." "You what? You blew me off to go sleep with her?" "Melody, it's not like that. At least not all like that. I was really messed up yesterday and Lissa helped me get through it. I had to talk it all out with someone." "And then have sex. Is she your girlfriend or me?" Did I have a girlfriend? I know I told Lissa that one of my favorite things at school was my girlfriend, but she quickly—and correctly—interpreted that as sex. I'd never really considered the implications of actually having a girlfriend. Yeah, I'd dated some, but I never thought about it in those terms before. "Lissa is my ... our ... friend. She's also my coach. If you'd just let me explain." Melody held up her palm in front of my face. I cringed for a second thinking she was going to slap me. Then she pulled some inner city jive thing on me out of the blue. "Talk to the hand, asshole. I'm not listening." Then she stormed off and I didn't see her again the rest of the day. Shit! Just when I thought I might have a handle on my life. I hate this fucking school. Why do I have all this drama? I'm an artist, not an actor, Jim. ------- I went back to my dorm room and cut Art Orientation. I stripped, crawled in bed, and pulled the covers over my head, determined not to come out until they closed the dorms for the summer. Of course, I didn't silence my cell phone and it started chiming once every ten minutes with messages until I finally gave in and got up to see who was texting me. I hoped it was Melody. I really didn't mean to hurt her and it never even occurred to me that my being with Lissa would upset her. We were both with her all weekend. Is that what it was like to have a girlfriend—always wondering if you were going to upset her over something stupid? I scanned through the messages but her name didn't pop up. There were messages from both Sandra and Amy, from John Gilbert at the gym, wanting to set up time with me this afternoon, and from Dean Peterson asking me to stop and see him after my painting class on Friday. I was about to open Sandra's message when a new message came in from Lissa. I looked and it said simply, "Have you picked up a Daytimer yet?" That really brought me up short. I'd blown off the athletic director and trainer at the club yesterday and that reflected badly on Lissa. She'd gone to bat for me to help with my depression and I owed it to her not to embarrass her again. It was 2:30. Technically I should still be in class, but I'd already missed two thirds of it, so I decided to head first to Staples and then to the gym. I texted John and asked if he could meet at 4:00. I was on my way downstairs with my bag slung over my shoulder when the message chimed again and his response was simply, "Yes. CU then." While I was walking I texted Lissa and told her I was on my way to Staples now. She sent back a smiley face. I finally popped Amy's message open. "WTF?" was all it said. Jolly. Not only was I in shit with Melody, but with Amy and Sandra, too. The three musketeers. I was at Staples, so I didn't bother to open Sandra's message. I spent half an hour picking out a planner. I had no idea how many different kinds of these books they had. I didn't know anybody still used paper calendars anymore. Everybody I knew kept their schedules on their cell phones. But I loved what I was seeing. Let's face it. I'm an artist and I think visually. I kept thinking of what Lissa said about me needing something that was big enough to see ahead and not just what was due now. There were daily and hourly journals, journals that had places for expenses, travel arrangements, and receipts, auto journals, weekly journals, monthly journals. They even had bigger planners that you could post on your wall and use erasable markers on. That was kind of cool, but I thought I needed something I could carry with me if I was going to make it work. I finally settled on a teacher's planner. It had a column each for the five days of the school week and a sixth column split between Saturday and Sunday. The days weren't divided with rigid times, but were just "Morning, Afternoon, Evening." It was also nice because it was an anytime calendar. You wrote the dates in at the top of the page so I didn't feel like I was paying for a year and only getting two months. For good measure, I bought a really nice mechanical pencil that had a large enough and soft enough lead that in a pinch I could use it to sketch with if I couldn't think of anything else to put in my planner. I was definitely ready. I headed for the gym. ------- The alarm on my phone went off at 4:00 p.m. and I was standing outside John Gilbert's office. It wasn't really his office. All the trainers kind of shared one big room with desks in it, but as far as I could tell they used whatever desk was free when they had a break from training. John led me into the office and several other trainers glanced up at me curiously. We sat on opposite sides of an empty desk and John got out his schedule. "Coach wants us to work three times a week. Two times in specified strength training exercises, mostly with weights or the machines, and once in Pilates. I watched you play and you've got incredible reach and flexibility, but you won't believe how much Pilates will extend you. You've got two hours of court time scheduled on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, so we get Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday unless you'd prefer Sunday." "Two hours of court time? I usually only play for an hour." "Lissa extended the court time to two hours, but she might be intending half of it to be her training." "Is she doing weights and Pilates, too?" "Yeah. I can get you in at the same time if you can be here at 6:00 in the morning." "She trains at 6:00 a.m.?" "And she's a wild woman in the morning. She works out before she has coffee and you do not want to cross her." "I'm not even human until after lunch. Do you have any afternoon slots?" "I do. What's your schedule?" I laid out my new planner and pencil, then pulled out my cell phone. "I've got classes from nine till noon and one-thirty to three-thirty on Tuesday and Thursday." "I see. So you're free from noon till one?" He grinned at me. Right. Like I was even going to get here and back in an hour. "How about setting things up at four? Can you get here that fast from class." "It's not far, but I don't get to eat much on those days. That's why I don't come and play racquetball. I can't get through the cafeteria lunch line and eat in an hour." "It's okay to grab a sandwich or some fruit and yoghurt before you work out, as long as it's not too heavy. You shouldn't work out on empty, though. We need to figure a way for you to get nutrition during the day. I'll talk to your coach about it. For now, let's set up 4:00 for training Tuesday and Thursday." "Is this going to be two hours, too?" I was scribbling in my new planner, transferring my class schedule for the next week into the planner. "No. The workout will only be an hour, but you'll probably want to cool down and then hit the showers before you leave, so allow time for that. Can you be here Saturday morning at nine?" "I'm on call for this stupid mural project from noon until midnight on Saturday and noon until nine Sunday this weekend. Next weekend spring break starts." "We've got a great Pilates trainer who can take you at nine for 45 minutes if you can make it." "I'll do it." "You're a lot more cooperative today than you were yesterday." I looked at John. Time to mend a bridge or whatever the expression is. "I was a kind of an asshole yesterday, John. I hope you'll pardon me and that we can work together." "What kind is that?" He looked at me and grinned. He leaned across the desk toward me. "You know, I've only been out of college for three years. I thought I was going to get a teaching job as a high school coach. I ended up here as a personal trainer. Shit happens. I'd have been just as pissed off as you were. I'm glad you got through it so fast." "Thanks. Do we have time for a workout today?" "I'd like to show you the routine. Here." He reached below the desk and pulled out a white polo shirt and blue warm-ups. "We've been informed that you are now a member of our team. You're welcome to wear the blue and white." I got changed and then joined John in the weight room. The machine he put me on was a mass of cables and weights on a glider. He handed me what looked like a handle on a rope and showed me some twisting exercises that caused the weights to rise when I pulled on the rope. It wasn't a lot of weight, but ten reps on each side and I was done with that. Little did I know that after ten reps on each of six different machines, he would run me through all of them again. In fact, I did three sets before he told me to stretch out and cool down. Weight training works your muscles differently than actually playing. I could tell that I was going to be sore tomorrow. In the locker room, I took a long sauna and soaked in the hot-tub before showering. All the time I was in the tub, I kept thinking of Lissa naked beside me. All we were doing at the time was talking like any two guys in the locker room, chugging down water. What magic switch did she flip that turned her from a fellow athlete relaxing her muscles into an irresistible sex object? She was so far beyond me I couldn't even imagine understanding her. ------- I stopped for fast food at a burger joint, but thinking about the fact that I was in training, I left and went into the local grocery store to get a salad and some cooked meat from the deli. Lissa told me I needed to keep up my protein intake and cut out some of the fats. I wondered if I would ever be able to eat in the cafeteria again. It was after 8:00 when I stumbled into my dorm and headed to my room. I was exhausted. I was not prepared to find Sandra sitting in the hall with her back against my door. She started to speak to me when I walked up but I held up my hand. "Please don't ask me where the hell I've been," I said with as much emphasis as my current state of exhaustion would permit. "I just wanted to check in on you Tony. I could tell when you disappeared after class that Melody hit you pretty hard. She's the sweetest girl in the world and a great friend, but she can be a bitch if she doesn't get her way." "Thanks for checking, Sandra. I'm doing okay. I'm sure we'll talk tomorrow." I opened my door and stepped through and Sandra came into the room right behind me. I've got a roommate, but I haven't seen him all this term. I think he has a girlfriend he stays with all the time. There's a half-full cup of soup on his desk that's been there for three weeks. "Ooo, gross." Sandra obviously noticed the cup. I shrugged. "My roommate is a pig. I don't know. I haven't seen him in so long he could be bacon." She laughed. It was a nice sound. We missed our Friday lunch last week because of the long model sessions that Lissa did for Figure Painting. I mean, you miss one and it's two weeks between meetings. Maybe that's what Lissa was talking about when I complained I didn't have friends. I didn't know where my roommate was. Sandra was standing here and just because I didn't have lunch with her last Friday, I missed her. I hadn't said two words to Amy since lunch week before last. And aside from Melody, these were the people I shared the most classes with. I should probably spend some time just catching up. I pulled out my desk chair and slid it over to her and plopped back on my bed. "Tell me about your week, Sandra. It's seems like forever since we've talked." "What? Are you reading that out of my text to you?" "Huh?" "I texted you three times today. Didn't you get them?" "Oh damn. I got so many text messages today I didn't get through them all. I was kind of busy." I pulled out my cell phone and saw that instead of the one message I saw before I took off, there were two more from Sandra that came in while I was working out. "Are you okay? I'm here for you," was the first one. "Seems like a long time since we caught up. Doing anything tonight?" "I'm just going to sit by your door till you get there, so please don't stay out all night. We need to talk." "We really need to talk?" "What? You think I'm just using it as an excuse to get in your stinky dorm room?" "I could use a Coke. Want one?" Sandra nodded and I got two Cokes out of my mini-fridge. I should have been drinking water just to re-hydrate, but if Sandra wanted to talk, I was going to need caffeine and sugar. I surprised myself when I blurted out, "How's Melody doing?" "She's pissed. She hung around all afternoon hoping you'd show up and then was hurt that you disappeared again. Amy's with her." "Why aren't you with her?" "There are only two of us and two of our friends are hurting. I won the coin toss." "Friends?" I only hung out with Sandra and Amy at lunch on Fridays. Of course we were in a lot of the same classes and groups of us would get together to study or be in the studio at the same time working on our projects, but we didn't interact all that much. I rolled over on my side and looked at Sandra sitting on my desk chair. She was cute. There was no real sexual attraction between us other than the obvious male/female teenager kind of thing. If we were the last two people left on earth, I was pretty sure we'd try to procreate. She was barely over five feet tall. Like most of my classmates, most of her clothes were black. Hell, so were mine. How pretentious could artists be? There isn't a mark on the scale for that. I was seriously considering starting to wear Hawaiian shirts and board shorts just to express my individuality. Sandra was a little on the round side. Zaftig would be a good word, and no, it doesn't mean fat pig. Her hair was kind of strawberry blonde and she had the complementary green eyes to go with it. Sometimes you didn't notice them because she used a lot of eyeliner that took attention away from her eyes. I guess I'd just never thought about her as really a friend. She was more like an accessory for Melody. But here she was, sitting in my room saying she won the toss and got to talk to me. I smiled a little and just repeated the word. "Friends." "I didn't come here to talk about Melody," Sandra went on. "How are you doing, Tony?" "Better now than earlier, but still pretty miserable. I really didn't mean to hurt Melody. I was so overwhelmed yesterday that I couldn't think straight and Lissa was there to talk to..." "Wait! You were sleeping with Lissa? The model? Oh my god!" "Uh ... I thought you knew. Melody didn't tell you?" "All she would say was 'I trusted her' and 'I thought she was my friend.' She'd never say exactly who she was talking about. Lissa?" "Lissa is a really good friend of mine. Of ours. She's really more than a friend." "Obviously! Geez, no wonder Melody is so upset." "Huh?" "Tony, you idiot! What girl could compete with that goddess? Melody probably feels like you don't think she's good enough or pretty enough." "That's ridiculous. Lissa has been nothing but supportive of Melody and me. She plays racquetball with me. She's teaching Melody. She modeled for us. She taught us ... stuff. She..." "Slept with you." "Yeah, but it's not like she hasn't slept with Melody." "What? Oh my god!" "Oh shit. I shouldn't have said that. Sandra, you've got to forget I said that. I'm going to kill myself." "Before you or after you slept with her?" "Well, we ... um." "Oh my god, together? And then you went to her alone? She's not only broken-hearted, she's jealous!" "Of Lissa?" "Of you." "Why would Melody be jealous of me?" This was way too confusing for my pea-brain to figure out. In fact, I couldn't figure out how Sandra was getting this. It was like she was some super-conduit for reading Melody's emotions. "Wait! You mean Melody wanted Lissa?" "Duh!" "That can't be right. I've got to go talk to Melody." "She won't see you right now. She's pouring her heart out to Amy. Why do you think I'm here?" Sandra got up and set her Coke can on my desk then came to stand right over me. "I'm here to be your friend." She began stroking my forehead. It really felt nice. It was so soothing and comforting. I got to thinking about how Mom would touch my forehead when I was sick as a kid. I was sick. I was sick in the head. I couldn't turn my mind off and I kept getting more and more depressed. But Sandra was telling me everything was all right. My eyes drifted closed. Her fingers massaged my scalp and ran down the back of my neck. "I'm here to comfort you." I wasn't sure that was what she said, but her hands had moved to massaging my shoulders and then down to my pecs. There was a little hesitation in her moves, but then she resumed her massage, moving down to my ribs and abs. I'd had a pretty tough workout with the weight machine this afternoon and everything she was doing felt really great. I felt a light brush across my lips. Her hands were both working on my abs, so I thought for a moment that she gave me a lovely little sisterly kiss. She brushed my lips again and when I softened to kiss her back a little, something slid into my mouth. My eyes shot open. This was no sisterly kiss. Sandra's head was thrown back so far I could hardly see her face. Her breasts were bare and her left nipple was pushed into my mouth. I spluttered and struggled to sit up. "Don't worry. It's okay. It's just a little friendship. I'm with you and Amy's with Melody." I shook my head and tried to comprehend what she'd just said. Somehow a girl having her tit stuck in my mouth didn't seem like a friendship thing. "You mean Amy is having sex with Melody?" "I should think so. We figured you'd both get relaxed enough to finally talk if we took a little of the edge off." It was really hard to concentrate on what that meant with this lush mound shoved in my face. Then Sandra's hand found my already erect prick. Oh shit! Hadn't Melody alluded to this kind of thing a while back saying she thought about inviting Sandra and Amy to join us before we found Lissa? But I don't trust them exactly. I sat bolt upright on my bed and pushed Sandra away from me. Her breasts jiggled as she sat down in the desk chair. God, her areolae were huge. They covered half the front of her breast with hard nipples the size of my little finger. She sat staring at me without bothering to cover herself. She was grinning at me and repositioning herself slightly every few seconds to call attention back to her breasts. "I'm sorry, Sandra. You'd better get dressed and leave now. I'm not going to start my relationship with Melody by cheating on her." "But you already had Lissa." "Lissa is different. Melody knows that and I think now so do you." She began to pull the straps of her shirt back up, but before she covered her breasts she spoke again. "Are you sure? A little oral satisfaction might help you relax. I could just nurse you to sleep." "Sandra, please." She looked a little disappointed, but she finished dressing and put her jacket on. She picked up her books and turned to me. "You really are special, Tony. I'm jealous of Melody, but I won't ever interfere again. I thought maybe it was just a little infatuation you two were going through, but I see it's serious. I don't know how your relationship with Lissa is going to work out, but I'm jealous of you, too. 'Bye." She left and I breathed a sigh of release. She's usually a sweet girl, and she's got a lot of curves in the right places, but I had other girls on my mind. I grabbed my cell phone and had Melody's number tapped in before I stopped and stared at the phone. Melody clearly wasn't ready to talk to me, and even though I thought Sandra was making things up, I didn't want to risk hearing Amy with her when I called. I switched to messaging and tapped out, "Miss you. Gnight love," and hit send. ------- Sometime in the middle of the night I felt my phone vibrate. I was going to ignore it, but something made me look. It was a text from Melody. It just said, "U2." ------- Amy grabbed me after painting class Friday and dragged me down to lunch. When I had my food, she escorted me to a table where both Sandra and Melody were seated. Melody started to get up and leave, but Sandra dragged her back down in her seat. "Sit and be quiet. Both of you," Sandra said. She can be pushy at times. I'd seen evidence of that last night. "Amy and I have something to say to you and you both need to hear it at the same time. Then you can go on being mad or not talking or whatever if you want to. First of all, I went to see Tony last night." Melody snapped around toward her, but Sandra kept going. "He got home about 8:00 and I was sitting on the floor next to his door. He hadn't answered a single one of my texts all day. We went into his room and I tried to seduce him." "You bitch!" Melody blurted out. She started to get up again, but Sandra hadn't let go of her yet. "I am. But let me finish. I tried unsuccessfully to seduce him. I even took my top off and tried to get him to suck my nipples." I couldn't look up, but it didn't take a direct look to see that Melody had her mouth wide open. "What Tony said to me, I will remember for as long as I live, and I will be forever jealous of you, Melody. He said, 'I'm not going to start my relationship with Melody by cheating on her.' I just thought you should know that, and I'm sorry I made the play and I won't do it again." Man, that took guts. I had a new admiration for Sandra. She didn't let it sit around as some little secret that she could use later. She came right out and said exactly what happened. "Is that what happened, Tony?" Amy asked. I nodded. "Well then, it's time for me to speak. Last night I met Melody for dinner. I took her to a nice restaurant and talked for hours about Tony and what had happened. I knew Melody was bi from conversations we'd had before, so when we got back to the dorm, I kissed her. Sorry you haven't had that experience yet, Tony, but when I kiss, I kiss good. I tried—I really tried hard—to seduce her." "And I said Lissa was the only woman in my life," Melody broke in. Amy looked at Melody and I could see the color rising in my girlfriend's face. Was she really telling me that Lissa was who she wanted to be with? "Not good enough, Mel," Amy said. "She said Lissa was the only woman in her life and that she would never mess around behind Tony's back." "Is that right, Melody?" Sandra asked. Melody's blush was almost crimson and she was looking at the table. She nodded without raising her head. This had gone on quite long enough. I reached across the table and lifted her chin with my finger. She finally brought her eyes to mine. "Melody, I don't know where all of this is going, but I know that I want to find out with you. I think I love you." She faltered for a second and then a shy smile crossed her face. "I think I love you, too, Tony." "I've got so much to tell you." "Let's talk on the way to the gym." "Awww." Sandra and Amy said together. "They're so cute." "Tony?" I was surprised by the voice behind me. I turned and almost dropped my lunch tray. "Dean Peterson! I'm sorry. I missed our meeting after class. I was kind of waylaid. I didn't even look at my calendar after class." "You'll have to get better at that. A calendar isn't worth much if you don't look at it." "Yes, sir." "Let me get a sandwich and we'll walk back to my office." He turned away from me and I sank back in my chair with a groan. "What's going on, Tony?" "I was supposed to meet with the Dean after class and you dragged me here instead. Not that I object to the results, but I have to go see him again, now." "Again?" "I had a meeting with him after Art History on Wednesday." "Is that what everything was about?" "Yeah. Look, I've got to go. I'll see you at the club, Melody. Sandra, Amy, thanks." ------- "It's always good to get feedback from your peers. What did your friends think of your new status?" In spite of me blowing off our meeting, Dean Peterson didn't seem upset with me. He was casually eating his sandwich and drinking an iced tea while we talked. "I haven't told anyone." "Does that mean you still aren't sure that you want to take this opportunity?" "No sir. I do want to take advantage of this and I want to thank you for considering me. I just haven't had a chance to talk to anyone except my coach since we spoke. I had a lot of ... well, I didn't respond too well when I met Mr. Jacobson and John Gilbert at the club. I was feeling pressured and sort of blew up at them. I haven't been able to talk to Mr. Jacobson since to apologize, but I did start training with John. I'm hoping the school will still consider me for this program." "Tony, that was well-said. You do need to apologize to Sam, though I think he understood what was going on. I warned him that it might be too soon to approach you, but he was so enthused that he wanted to go right over and watch you practice. Nothing has changed regarding the offer, but I needed to hear from you that you accept." "I accept, sir. I won't let you down." "Tony, have you been to student counseling services?" I looked at Dean Peterson. "I'm not crazy, Dean. I just got a little depressed is all. Lissa helped me see what was going on." "Then you are aware that over half of the incoming freshman population suffers from the same things that you have been? Loneliness, depression, feelings of inadequacy, stress, isolation." "How do you know I felt all that?" I suspected Lissa had talked to him and it pissed me off a little. She had no right to discuss what I told her in confidence. "Like I said, over half ... I could list symptoms one after another and even plot on a calendar within a week when students would feel them. I'm not minimizing it or suggesting that your problems are typical. It affects each student differently, some more than others. I'm only suggesting that there are people here who would listen to you and understand. They might even help. It's up to you, of course." "Thank you, sir. I'll make an appointment." "Don't forget to write it in your calendar and then look at it." He smiled at me. "By the way, you mentioned Lissa. I wasn't sure, but I assume you mean Coach Grant." "Yes sir. I've known her for quite a while before she was my coach. Is it improper to refer to her by her first name?" "Possibly when you are at a competition. People should know your relationship is a coaching one." He breathed a sigh, shook his head a little, and then went on. "Tony, I don't mean to pry, but do you have more of a relationship with your coach than just friends and fellow athletes?" I swallowed hard. I didn't want to get Lissa in trouble, but I had a hard time just lying to Dean about it. "Sir?" "Okay. I'll withdraw the question. Relationships between faculty and students are frowned upon and faculty members risk their jobs if they become involved with a student. I get pretty protective of students in that regard. However, Coach Grant is not officially a faculty member. The college does not pay her. Nor does SCU. She's a volunteer. Since she is still quite a young woman, I will not try to restrict your relationship. But be careful, Tony. It's not unusual for athletes to worship their coaches. Make sure you are making choices based on what you want and not on what a beautiful woman can convince you to do. Do you understand me?" "Yes sir. Thank you, sir." "You are still very formal with me. I used to play a little racquetball myself, you know. I wouldn't mind coming down to the club to volley with you some time if you don't mind. I'll wait until after Nationals, though." "Thank you, sir. I'd be happy to play you some day." ------- "Tony, take Melody onto the court and work with her on her backhand for a while. I want to see the ball in motion, but you two need to talk. Don't get wild. Now go." Lissa summarily sent us into the racquetball court and plopped down outside to start stretching. I served to Melody's backhand and she swung wildly. "It's the same as a forehand swing," I said. "Just not quite as powerful. When you bring the racquet back, concentrate on keeping it perpendicular to the floor. The tendency is to let it drift down at an angle. Then when you swing you don't have as much surface area ready to meet the ball. Try it again." I served again and the next time she made contact. I lobbed two more to her. Her returns were becoming more dependable. "Why did you go to Lissa without me?" The question came just before I served and I couldn't answer until she'd returned it and the echo died. "I was really upset. I blew up at some people who were really important and Lissa calmed me down. We went to her house to cool down and talk." Serve. Return. "Couldn't you talk to me?" "Lissa was a part of what I was upset about. I couldn't even see straight when she took me out of the club." Serve. Return. "The stuff with the Dean? Are you in trouble, Tony?" "Not exactly. But it was so overwhelming I didn't know what to do." Serve. Return. I stopped and turned toward Melody before she could ask her next question and just shook my head. She waited. "I wanted to tell you Thursday morning when I saw you. Then I realized how badly I messed things up. So I haven't told anyone. I was waiting for you. The school has given me an opportunity to earn a double degree in a new program with SCU," I said. "And they want me to play in the National Intercollegiate Racquetball Championships next month. I know I should have been shouting and screaming and rushing to tell you, but all I could see on Wednesday was more stress and pressure. I've hated college ever since I got here. Lissa talked me down after I blew up at SCU's athletic director and helped me see that it wasn't really about college. Until you and I got together, I felt so alone I couldn't stand it. And then Lissa was a part of what we had and I never thought about being with her as separate from being with you. I wasn't trying to cut you out and I didn't think of it as cheating because I can't think of life without both of you. I'm still so confused I can hardly breathe when I talk about it. Melody, I love you and I love Lissa. Does that make me some kind of freak?" "It makes us both freaks because I love you and I love Lissa, too. I just thought you'd chosen her instead of me, and that she'd chosen you instead of me. I'm sorry." Serve. Return. "Tony, are you going to play in the Championships?" "Yeah." "And you've agreed to do the double degree?" "Yeah. That's what Dean wanted to talk to me about this noon." "How are you going to afford it all? How will you ever get the work done?" "I'm scared to death, Mel. I'm scared I'll fail everyone. They offered me a full ride scholarship and Lissa helped me start to get organized. But, Melody, I can't do it if you aren't with me, too." Her racquet fell to the floor just before I served and the ball went whizzing past her as she launched herself at me. Before I knew what was happening, Melody's lips were plastered against mine and her legs were wrapped around my waist. I kissed her like she was the first drop of water from a mountain stream. I drank her in. I held her and stroked hair and her back. It was heaven and I only barely heard the door close behind us. Melody and I turned our heads together to see Lissa leaning against the back wall. She looked relieved and sad at the same time. She was looking at us with a half-smile and her lower lip caught between her teeth and I thought I saw the glint of a tear in her eye. It was the first time I think I ever saw her look uncertain. I looked at Melody and she put her feet on the ground. She nodded and we both rushed Lissa and swept her into a hug and covered her face with kisses. In seconds, we were all giggling and kissing each other. When we finally stopped for air, I looked at the two women I'd fallen madly in love with. We had to find a way to make sure each of us knew what our relationship was. I had an inspiration. I took Melody's hand and pulled her so we were facing Lissa. "Lissa. I ... we were wondering. Would you go steady with us?" I thought she'd split her sides laughing. She looked at us and hugged us both. "Yes, I'd love to go steady with you both. I can't believe that I think I'm in love with both of you." I thought Lissa had been the instigator of all this at one time, but then I thought we'd done pretty well at declaring what we wanted. There was still something missing, though. Melody seemed to pick up on it right away. She pulled away and took hold of Lissa's hand and the two looked at me. "Tony, Lissa and I were wondering if you'd like to go steady with us. We really, really like you." I felt this silly grin spread across my face and it almost locked my jaw too tight to answer. "Yes," I croaked out. "I'd love to go steady with the two of you. I love you both." We all collapsed in on each other with more kisses and hugs, then Lissa took the lead and grabbed me by the hand. We stood facing Melody and Lissa spoke. "Melody, Tony and I really like you and we were hoping that you'd maybe like to go steady with us." Mel was giggling so hard now that she had trouble getting the words out. Tears were running down her cheeks. I couldn't tell if it was just because she was happy or because she was laughing so hard. "Tony and Lissa, I love you both and I would love to go steady with you!" ------- It was almost two hours later that we got to Lissa's house and were all immersed in the spa. We each had a liter bottle of water and Lissa was insisting that we had to drink all of it before we could leave the spa and play. We were doing a pretty good job of playing in the spa, though. Someone was kissing someone or groping someone or lying on someone all the time. I soon discovered that I got as much pleasure out of seeing Lissa and Melody kissing or hugging each other as I got out of kissing either one of them. And there was something else. I had a feeling that it took a while to identify. Of course I felt sexy and loved. I felt happy. But under all that I felt something else and I finally decided that it was hope. All the time I'd been depressed this year, I felt so hopeless—like I'd just set foot on a path that I could never change and I would be miserable for the rest of my life. Now I felt hope that things would be better, that I wouldn't be lonely, and I wouldn't be a failure in everything. I drank a little more water and savored the feeling. I was so spaced out, just thinking about it that I almost inhaled a lungful of water when the two girls swept in on me and dunked me. ------- After dinner, we made love. We weren't frantic or so hot and horny that we couldn't wait for each other. We were passionate, but we were exploring how to be a three-person couple. Does that make sense? We had to figure out who got what body part. And the disagreements weren't all about who got the one cock among the three of us. I smashed noses with Melody when we both dove into Lissa's pussy from opposite directions. We discovered that our laughing sent a new kind of vibration through Lissa and she came as Melody kissed me with our cheeks resting on her labia. That didn't stop us from turning our heads and both sticking our tongues into her as far as we could reach. Oh god! To feel Melody's tongue sliding against mine while we both licked at Lissa's clit was so incredible that I came. Melody felt me splashing against her stomach and it set her off and when she screamed into Lissa's pussy, Lissa came again. Best of all, though was the three of us cuddled together with our arms around each other as we went to sleep about midnight. I lay awake a few minutes after their breathing had settled into the even cadence of sleep and tears ran down my cheeks. My life wasn't going to hell. Or at least if it was, it was going in a luxury limo instead of a hand-basket! ------- Chapter 5 My alarm clock on Saturday morning consisted of two incredibly beautiful women smothering me—and each other—with kisses. I think that when we fell asleep last night, I was more or less between—or maybe under—both of them. I woke up early once and Lissa was sprawled next to me on her back with my arm under her neck and her right leg thrown over my left. Melody was laying half on Lissa's left leg with her head pillowed on Lissa's left breast. I reached across and put my hand on Melody and went back to sleep. At seven, I woke up to both of them giggling and kissing me. I was pretty aroused—what guy isn't when he wakes up in the morning—but they wouldn't do more than give me a little squeeze now and then. We hit the shower together and playfully scrubbed each other clean. This time when we stepped out of the shower, I was given the job of drying both them with a big towel while they made the task difficult by continuing to kiss and grind themselves against each other. We finally dressed and had breakfast. Lissa said she'd take me to the club for my morning Pilates class and then I was on my own. "I looked at your Daytimer," Melody said. "Did you?" "Not yet. I know what my first appointment is this morning." "And what comes next?" "More beautiful lovers in my arms?" "Tony." Lissa handed me my schedule. I flipped it open and saw the weekend assignment. I was on call to work with my Fundies prof on the mural from noon till midnight today and noon till nine on Sunday. I'd completely forgotten. "Oh yeah," I said. "Shall I meet you after I'm off?" "No," Lissa said. "Go back to your dorm and sleep in on Sunday. Then do your second shift and get enough sleep Sunday night to get to your class on time Monday. I'll see you on the court Monday afternoon. See? It says so right here in your calendar." "What are you guys going to do?" "We 'guys' are staying right here for some girl time." "Lissa said she'd pose while I do some painting." "All day?" I asked. "Of course not, silly. Only when we're not having sex!" I'm sure my chin must have hit my knees when my mouth fell open. I could feel my cock bounce up in my shorts and threaten to escape. Lissa and Melody were going to spend the day together painting and making love while I was slinging plaster for my prof's stupid mural. How could they? The image of the two of them in my mind, though, was so erotic that anger was short-circuited and my cock was rigid. Before I was aware of it, I felt two hands on my cock and two sets of lips on my neck. Then they joined me in a tender three-way kiss. "That will give you something to think about while you're getting all hot and sweaty with Dr. Henredden," Melody said. I smiled. Actually, the image of the two of them would be a pleasant thought while I was working. And I was going to be way too tired to do anything when I was done. "As my folks used to say back in Nebraska," I drawled, "what's good for the goose is good for the gander. I hope you two have fun." I meant it. ------- Pilates looks like a calm and peaceful activity. There are machines that help you move your body, devices like a huge ball that you lie on, no real weights clanging around or anything. The focus for me was core strength and flexibility. I had no idea how exhausting a workout it could be. When I was done, I hit the sauna and shower, got dressed, and went to get a big burger on the way to the project site. I justified it on the grounds that it would probably be my last meal this weekend. I arrived a few minutes before Doc Henredden who was surprised to see me already there when he pulled up in his van and had me help unload his equipment and supplies. We walked into the administration building where one hall had been blocked off and scaffolding was set up. It wasn't monumental, like a Roman cathedral or anything, but it was still a big wall about 40 feet long and fifteen feet high. The mural had been commissioned by the school to show the arts in action. I'd looked at the sketch and rendering. It was like one of those big sports murals by LeRoy Neiman only, instead of Olympic athletes, it had scenes of dancers, theater performances, sculpture, and all that. Pretty much everything that was taught in the college would be represented in the mural. It wouldn't cover the whole height of the wall, but would cover the whole length. A four foot high wainscoted panel guarded against scuffs in the high traffic area. Dr. Henredden said the hall wasn't wide enough to let people stand back and view something that went so high, so the actual painting would be about 8' high by 40' long. I was involved a few weeks ago on the weekend we fastened fiberglass mesh to the wall. After that, a fresh coat of plaster was applied and Dr. Henredden supervised every step of making sure it created a perfectly smooth and even surface. I had to hand it to him. He didn't just hire a bunch of contractors to come in and plaster a wall. He was a stickler about every detail and students who worked on his project learned to do work that hasn't been common since the Renaissance. One of our most interesting classes near the end of last term was the debate on whether it should be done as a fresco, a buon fresco, or a secco. The difference is in how wet the plaster is and the type of paint you use. Doing a secco on dry plaster was a compromise between trying to teach a classic technique and working with the practicalities of being a part-time project with student help. In a lesser school than PCAD, they might have just painted out the wall with Kilz and then started painting the mural with interior latex. Doc felt his students would learn more if it was done in a classical manner. I guess he was right since I was standing there thinking about the different techniques while he gave me a tour of the sketch and the pencil drawing on the wall. I started to grouse about the fact that none of the other student assistants were here yet and it was already a quarter till one when Doc stopped me. "They will not be here until two." "I thought call was at noon." "I have one student with me for a couple of hours before the others arrive so we can get to know each other a little better." I had to admit that I was enjoying the individual attention. He'd explained to me what issues of perspective had to be considered when painting on a wall and that you had to think about where the normal viewer would be standing. The hall was too narrow to get back far enough to view the whole painting at once. Most people who viewed this massive work would be four to twelve feet away. I had always assumed that a muralist would either lay in all the background and then work forward, or he would start at one corner and work outward from there. I could see, however, that there were scattered pieces painted along the wall. So I asked about the order things were being painted in. "Focal points. The wall was primed and then covered with gesso. We blocked out the wall in a grid pattern that matches the grid on the rendering at a 1"=1' scale and then roughed in the drawing on the wall. Now we are painting the focal points. These are the points that people will be drawn to as they walk down the halls. It is where I focus my attention. As they are laid in, I ask students to paint in the negative space." "But the rendering shows a lot more figures. Are you planning to paint them over the background?" "Yes, exactly. The paints are technically opaque, but as you know, that depends on the consistency. If we cut the pigment with clear varnish, the background will show through. As a result, we can use the exact same hues for the background images and the tone will be reduced, pulling those images into the background and away from the focal points." "Wow!" It was really a neat concept and I hadn't heard of other artists doing that, though I wasn't all that familiar with murals outside of our class. "Will I be working on negative space today?" Even though it would be essentially flat, painting negative space was something you could see the results of in a short period of time. "No, Tony. I have a special job for you." Dr. Henredden led me to one of the five focal points that were still unpainted. It was a studio setting of a nude lying on a daybed and reminded me of something. "I believe you are familiar with this model. I'd like you to do the focal painting." He handed me the rendering that he'd been carrying as he talked to me. It was Lissa. And I'd swear it was rendered from one of my sketches. Only this was at least three times larger than I intended to paint her. It was slightly bigger than life. "That's my ... the model from our class and my sketch." "I always look through Professor McIntyre's final project sketches to see if one merits inclusion in a larger project. Do you think you are up to rendering it at this size?" That was a problem. The only reason I hadn't recognized the sketch on the wall in the first place is that it looks a lot different at that size. I got off the scaffolding and took the rendering to the opposite side of the hall. I looked from the rendering up to the sketch on the wall and at last I could see it. The question was could I paint it? "Bravo. You did the one thing most first-time muralists forget to do. You stepped back to where the viewer will be." "Do you think I can do this?" "You are showing talent, Tony, and I have you for another 19 hours. I think you should try." "But what if I mess up? If you don't like it..." "Then I'll paint over it and render it myself. But I don't think I'll need to, do you?" "No sir." "When you paint a mural of this scale, you begin by laying in the general tone, but only work a portion at a time. Follow the edge where there is sharpest contrast, put in the base color, and add the shadows while it is still wet. I know you have used acrylics before, so you should be able to mix these colors and control them fairly well. The tricky thing is that you have to mix a lot more paint than you would for a canvas. At the same time, with the gesso coating, you will not have as much paint absorption as you would on canvas. The plaster is pretty well sealed." "Yes sir. Does every student in Fundamentals paint a segment of the mural?" "No. Some never deal with paint at all. Some sketch. Some sling plaster. Some will varnish the wall. But this year, you are the only one invited to work on a focal point." ------- By the time I was ready to start, the other two helpers today had arrived. Robert Bragg was a spaced-out guy I knew only from the Fundamentals class. I think he was studying computer graphics, but he always smelled like pot. Kate was a cute girl—the fifth freshman in our Figure Painting class—who was just plain stuck-up. I don't think she'd spoken two words to anyone since school started. She was a good painter, though, and when she saw me working on the sketch when she got there she got a weird expression on her face like I was a bug that should be squashed. I did some erasures on the wall sketch and revised it some. It took a while because I kept getting off the scaffold and crossing the hall to look at what I was drawing. This was really different than portrait painting, even though I was painting a portrait. It was more than life-size and I was going to use a smooth acrylic paint rather than oils. Acrylic has some real advantages. It's easier to clean up with soap and water, mixes quickly, and is a nice consistency for brush work. It also dries faster than oil. That's great for getting a canvas finished and off the easel quickly, but it can make wet blending a bitch. After I'd spent a good two hours revising the sketch I realized I didn't have any of my own brushes with me for applying the paint. I went to Dr. Henredden to ask if I could go get my brushes. He was working on the figure of a dancer at a different focal point. I got lost in watching him for a while. I must have stood there for half an hour before one of the other guys made a wisecrack about me loafing while they were working. Doc didn't turn or say anything. There isn't a lot of conversation when a group is working on a project like this. Doc was in a zone. It was an unspoken rule that when an artist is in a zone like that, you simply don't disturb him. I watched what he was doing and identified the red sable brushes he was using as he deftly brought the figure to life. I could see what he meant by following the chiaroscuro or the curve of tone contrasts that ultimately define the depth of the work. On a canvas, you have a lot of flexibility in where you work, usually starting with the general background and working forward. But I could see that on a wall where part of a face could be as big as a normal canvas, you needed to look for drying points that were easy to blend and define. I tore my eyes away from what he was doing and walked down the hall to where Kate and Robert were working together on the negative space. They were talking quietly together and I could see that they were doing a lot more than just slinging a background color in between focal points. The background was gently textured and they were doing a careful job, referring frequently to the rendering. "You need the rendering?" Robert asked. "No that's okay. Nice job on that texture. Have you watched him at all?" "No," Kate said. "He told us to come down here, showed us what to do and told us not to bother you. What gives?" Her greeting was none too friendly and this was more words than I'd heard her speak all year. Figure Painting is usually a sophomore or higher class and the five freshmen in it all had to present portfolios to the professor in order to be admitted. Needless to say, Kate was good. She has black hair that she wears in a ponytail to keep it out of her way. Both she and Robert were wearing white painter's caps. She wore bib overalls over a sleeveless t-shirt and you could see where she'd wiped paint on her pants over the course of several projects. She was pretty tall and nicely proportioned. She was working barefoot and I noticed her toes were neatly manicured and the nails painted a brilliant purple. Everybody has their thing, I guess. "You should model," I said without thinking. "Yeah. I hear you're into 'You show me yours and I'll show you mine.' But I've already seen you and I'm not about to return the favor." "What?" Robert broke in. "Tony, you been exposing yourself?" "Naw. They convinced me to step in for a missing model for one of our Figure Drawing classes last semester. I wore a jock." "That's okay," Kate said. "I saw all I needed to. And his girlfriend's seen more from what I hear." "Uh ... look. Daniel Smith closes in half an hour and I need to run out and get a couple of brushes. If Doc comes out of his zone and looks for me, would you tell him where I went?" "Sure. Is that our class model, Lissa, you're working on?" "Yeah. I'm scared shitless about actually starting to put the paint on the wall." Kate looked at me strangely. "I'm sure you'll do great at that like everything else you do. We'll tell him if he asks." There was a hint of jealousy in her voice. She went back to her work and it felt like I'd been dismissed and maybe even snubbed. ------- I don't know if they intentionally situated an art school near an art supply store or if the store saw a ready market and opened nearby. I know the store has been there a long time and I was a frequent customer. Most of my student loan probably found its way into their cash register. I justified it by saying it was all an investment in my future career, so I didn't buy cheap stuff. I'd watched Doc Henredden painting for long enough to identify the kinds of brushes he used and I walked out of the store with one hog-bristle and three sable brushes and about $120 poorer. I ran by the dorm and picked up my art box and sketchbook as well. I didn't buy brushes that I already had. It was nearly six o'clock when I got back to the hall and before I'd set up to start painting, I heard the soft chime of Doc's cell phone alarm. "Let's take a break," he said after a couple of minutes spent finishing a stroke. About two minutes later a pizza delivery guy showed up with three boxes and a carton of Cokes. We all dug in and Doc asked to see the brushes I'd brought back. He nodded his approval and gave me a couple of tips about how to use each one. He wasn't at all upset that I hadn't started putting paint on the wall yet and walked over to look at the adjustments I'd made on the sketch. "This is good. Is she really that beautiful?" I was surprised by the question. "Yes sir. I mean you saw her when you did the sketch, right? She's incredible." "No. If I'd seen her, I'd have fallen in love. I used one of your sketches that Prof. McIntyre gave me to put in the pose." I was a little startled. I thought he'd stepped into the studio while I was sketching and did a sketch as well. I would never have known. "Kate, I need the scale drawing," Doc called. I was closer, but Kate came from one end of the hall to the other to walk past us and pick up the drawing about ten feet away. She had a scowl on her face as Doc turned before she got back and walked back to where I was working. I heard a bit of a huffy sigh behind me as Kate followed along. Robert was totally absorbed in a phone conversation down the hall, but when he saw the three of us walking toward him he hung up and came to meet us. Doc took the sketch from Kate. "My god! Look what you did to this sketch!" Doc yelled. All three of us jumped back from him. I started to apologize but he waved me to silence. "Look! All three of you. Here is the drawing I did based on Tony's original sketch. But look at what he has drawn on the wall. This is what happens when an artist falls in love with his model." "Tony?" Kate looked at me strangely. "Yes, yes," Doc said. "I did not draw from the model. I drew from his sketch. My drawing is technically correct. But Tony has drawn this model and I would guess has even painted her." I nodded. "Look at the eyes. It is not only how the artist sees the model; it is how she sees him." All three of us just stood there staring. I think Doc was giving me a compliment. Kate was sneaking sidelong glances over at me and then up at the sketch on the wall. I'm not sure Robert had tuned into the fact that Doc was speaking. It wouldn't surprise me to find out he was high. "Tony, don't paint her tonight. It's no good to start right after you've been praised or criticized. I hate doing it myself. Someone comes up and talks about all the wonderful things I've done and I can't paint a single decent stroke afterward. Spend a couple of hours doing drapery. Learn how your brushes feel and the texture of the paint. Come back tomorrow morning and start fresh on your lover." This was really freaky. Could he possibly know that Lissa was one of my two very precious girlfriends? Or was he just talking about the metaphysical connection between artist and model. "Um ... call said noon tomorrow." "If you prefer. It is Sunday. This is my cathedral. I will be here at 8:00. Come when you wish." Robert wandered back down the hall to where he was doing texture painting. Kate stood there looking at the scaled sketch and the drawing on the mural for a minute, then took the sketch back to Doc's easel. As she walked by me on her way to do more background, she turned to look at me. She made one of those gestures that people do to look threatening, but for her it looked more like a hint of expectation. She pointed two fingers at her eyes and then pointed them at me. It's the old, "I'm watching you" gesture. ------- Two hours later, I'd laid in most of the surrounding drapery and worked various highlights and shadows in to make them look almost like deep blue velvet. It took a while to get used to the new brushes and to accomplish wet blending the way I wanted it. I wasn't really satisfied with it. I always loved painting drapery, whether it was hanging from a window or just folds in people's clothes. In a way, I even thought of skin as being draped on the skeleton and muscles, so it was a kind of drapery, too. But these looked isolated and mechanical. One fold of fabric was completely disconnected from the next. It just didn't look right to me. I was getting frustrated. "You started earlier than the others today," Doc said. I jumped at his voice behind me. It was about 10:30. "You should get some sleep. You can redo this tomorrow." Redo it. He could see that it sucked, too. What was I going to do? I knew while I was painting that he'd be judging the quality of my finished work, and I was acutely aware that Kate kept glancing at me. I knew what was missing, but I just wasn't able to get into the zone like I had while I was sketching. "Doc, would you mind if I brought a headset with me tomorrow? I like to block out distractions with music." "Eh?" He pulled an earplug out of one ear and showed it to me. Smiling he said, "Do what you need to do." I gathered up my things, cleaned my brushes and palette, and headed back to my dorm. What I needed to do was sleep in the arms of Lissa and Melody. But I wasn't about to interrupt their girlfriend time. I'd selfishly had Lissa to myself without a thought about Melody on Wednesday and the two of them deserved time together. I did send them a "goodnight-love you" text message. ------- I lay in my bed—alone—and kept thinking about the painting. I could see Lissa in that position. I knew every contour and every shadow. But every time I saw the painting in my mind's eye, it was wrong. I grabbed my sketchbook and started leafing through all the pictures. I even looked at the painting of Melody that I'd completed when I thought I was working ahead for class. Just looking at her eyes and the way she was smiling at me was almost too much to bear. She was so beautiful I thought my heart would break. I looked at the many sketches I did of Lissa. Some of them were from class during the marathon drawing session on Friday. Some were from that weekend at her house. Some were of the poses that she did for Melody and some for me. Then I found one that always made me smile. It was the first drawing at her house, just after Melody and I made love to Lissa the first time. She was lying back on the daybed with the drapes gathered around her and that perfectly sated smile on her lips. Melody had all but passed out, kneeling on the floor beside her with her head and arm draped across Lissa's stomach. I'd just stood up and when I saw them I whispered, "Wait. Don't move." I'd done a hurried sketch, but it was my favorite among them all. I didn't hand that one in. For my formal sketch—the one Doc used for the mural—all I did was move Melody out of the picture. Lissa was in the same position. I thought maybe I'd have to do another pose for my final project in figure painting. I nodded off to sleep with the image of Lissa and Melody on my mind and dreamt of my two lovers together. ------- I woke up before dawn. I mean, I really woke up. I felt like I wouldn't need sleep again for a year. I was so jazzed I grabbed my stuff and was out the door within five minutes of waking up. Just before I left, I stopped and grabbed the sketchbook with my original sketches in it. I stopped at the all-night Starbuck's a block from campus and the only person in it was a sleepy-looking barista who did her best to smile at me when I came in. I got a triple shot of espresso and a bagel sandwich and headed back out the door. There's a big church a few blocks away and in the half-light of dawn I made my way there. I don't know what kind of church it is, but it's big and has lots of stained glass windows. Maybe it's Catholic or Lutheran. The Baptist churches back home didn't have stained glass. The doors were unlocked, but I didn't see anybody around when I went in. I found a seat in the middle of the sanctuary and looked up at a wall of stained glass behind the pulpit. It was about three stories high and had some religious scene portrayed in it that I didn't care about. What I did care about was that it was a clear day out and it was nearly sunrise. I could already see color beginning to spread through the nave. I pulled my headset on and started my music playing. The subtly muted strains of Orff's Carmina Burana started, hauntingly distant, but growing closer. By the first timpani, the sun had broken the horizon and the entire nave was a riot of color. Energy from the music was being pumped into me. The espresso wasn't hurting either. I swallowed the last of my bagel and drank of the remaining coffee. I stood in the center aisle and waited. In just a few moments the light from that big stained glass window touched me. Hac in hora sine mora corde pulsum tangite; quod per sortem sternit fortem, mecum omnes plangite! I turned and ran out the doors of the church with my bag and tossed the garbage into a receptacle near the sidewalk. By the time I reached the hall and my painting, my heart was pumping a mile a minute. I didn't even stop to greet Doc. I just started pulling together the paints that I was going to need. Half a dozen buckets of acrylic paint were open on the scaffolding and a dozen small jars of pigment were nearby when I started mixing the colors I wanted on my palette. Her forehead is impossibly high and so smooth it looks like polished stone. It's covered by locks of fine golden hair that sweep across from a boyish part in a hairstyle that reminds me of Peter Pan. I remember the first time I kissed her right at the place where that part begins and found the skin that looked like an opal was soft and warm. It was incredible. I stayed there with my lips gently touching that spot for what seemed like hours while I held her to me. Debussy's Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun was playing as I mimicked the texture of her skin with the softness of my brush strokes. I couldn't see her left ear in this position, hidden behind her aristocratic cheekbone. The right ear was slightly different than the left. There was an extra fold of skin leading to her inner ear. I'd played with that fold with my tongue teasing her until she scrunched her shoulder up, almost touching the ear and I couldn't get to it any longer. Then I lay my head on her shoulder and lightly blew up into her ear. The ferocity of the kiss she turned and planted on me made me forget everything else in the world. There was nothing but her lips touching mine. Those lips might seem a little pale compared to the garish colors girls around school wear for lipstick. I'm sure she was wearing a little makeup when she posed for the class, but when Melody and I did our sketches in her basement she put no makeup on at all. You could almost see the nerve-endings lying so close to the surface that a single touch of the lips caused her to tremble. Her lips were parted, not in a toothy grin, but sensuously soft as if to welcome a lover's kiss. I remember placing my lips there and tilting my head slightly to the left as our noses grazed against each other. I lived that kiss again and again. Her nose couldn't be straighter or more perfect if a Greek sculptor had cut it out of stone. When she was aroused you could see her nostrils flare slightly. I closed my eyes once and traced the length of her nose up to the slight impress between her eyes, then let my fingers trail across her almost non-existent eyebrows. It was her eyebrows that convinced me she was naturally blonde. The pale gold wisps were only visible if soft light caught them and cast a shadow against her brow. Nose and brows together brought all the focus on her face to her incredible eyes. Her eyes. I saw immediately what I'd unconsciously been trying to do with the drapes. I was picking up her eye color in the velvet drapery. But I'd been missing my light source. I could always get lost in Lissa's eyes. She has incredible intensity. The black streaks in her pupils deepen what would otherwise be a pale blue. When I look into her eyes, I see into myself. She shows me what I could be. Sibelius's The Swan of Tuonela was playing as I lost myself in those eyes again. The fleck of golden candle light reflected in her eye as she looked at me—loved me. Lissa's shoulders were elegant and powerful at the same time. I'd watched her in matches with other players at the club and you can't put that much English on a ball unless you have both power and control. To see her muscles move in her shoulders and upper arms is like watching a dance with an entire ensemble supporting the prima ballerina. But to see those muscles up close... While we made love I lay on my back and she supported herself on her arms. The drive of her hot, wet pussy was not a hip thrust movement. Her entire body undulated and I saw from only inches away how her shoulders, biceps and pecs worked together as she used her arms to force her way back onto my cock. When she drew forward until only the glans was in her, her breasts raked across my chest like hot coals. Those muscles shifted beneath her skin, drawing it taught across her collar-bone and pulling the concave between her neck and shoulder even deeper. I caressed the joint with my lips and felt her push back against me again. Beethoven's Symphony #3, Eroica found my face between the lush, perfect mounds of her breasts. I haven't been up close to that many breasts. I have looked at a lot of pictures—for research. One thing that I've noticed is that a woman's breasts are almost never identical. A nipple or areola is a slightly different size, or just off center. One breast is firmer than the other and doesn't flatten as much when she lies down. But that is not how it is with Lissa. You could hold a mirror perpendicular to her sternum and not have a more perfect match in the reflection than in her other breast. When, in my naiveté, I asked her if she'd had implants she started laughing. "You have no boundaries, do you?" she howled. Then she explained that when she was modeling she was almost completely flat-chested, but that during pregnancy her breasts had filled out and never shrank. Gravity had simply had much less time to work on her than on other women her age who matured earlier. But when I touched them with my fingers, or the tip of my tongue, I thought of them as being holy. They were too perfect for anyone but a goddess. All I could think about was how Melody and I had advanced on Lissa standing in front of the sleigh-bed that was my setting where we first made love. Together we worshipped all of Lissa. We kissed together; we petted Lissa's arms and back; we suckled at her breasts. Melody guided my cock when I entered her as she lay back on the bed. Melody peppered Lissa's stomach and mine with little kisses, working her way up first to my lips and then to Lissa's. We made love to her as one person, always seeming to know what the other's hand or mouth was about to do, as if it were simply an extension of our own. I erased the rest of the sketch and didn't bother to redraw. Tchaikovsky's Symphony #6, Pathétique washed over me. Melody had been the first ray of hope to enter my depression. What I thought was a hopeless fantasy turned into a mystic reality when she asked me to model for her. Melody had brought us to Lissa's house that first weekend and not only did we paint, we gave each other our virginity. Each time I looked into her lavender eyes I was struck with the impossibility of us being together. Yet, even when I'd done something stupid and been wrapped up in my own misery, Melody was there. I embraced her softness and felt her respond to my touch. Her skin was slightly darker than Lissa's almost translucent beauty. There was a fine spray of freckles across her shoulders. Her auburn hair spread out in a fan across her neck and Lissa's abdomen where she lay in sated exhaustion. We had not only pleasured Lissa, we had reached a new peak with each other and our orgasms were as intense as Lissa's. Lissa's left hand hung down off the cushion behind her, just touching Melody's hair. Melody's arm lay across Lissa just above her Delta of Venus, casting those delicate curves into deep shadow. Melody's thighs and the lower part of her beautiful butt were also cast shadowed, being below the level of my light source. I'd stroked those beautiful cheeks with my hand and my face until Melody had drifted to sleep pillowed on Lissa's stomach. You could see the fingers of her left hand entwined with the fingers of the other woman's right hand, held tightly at the edge of the bed. Away from the light source, the figures quickly fell into darkness. The flame on the single candle drifted slightly to the right as though a passing ghost had pulled the fire with it. It seemed to take only a few strokes to correct the shadow and depth of the drapes I'd painted yesterday. I could hear the strains of Enigma's Cross of Changes playing in my ears as I made last loving adjustments to a shadow or highlight. I stood in front of what I had painted. Two of the most incredible women I'd ever known. My friends and my lovers, clasped together as I knew they had been all weekend. It filled me with such overwhelming joy that I stood there with tears running down my cheeks as I listened to the last refrain. You'll see the face who'll say, I love you, I'll kill you. But I'll love you forever. As it faded, I emerged from my zone. I felt a little dizzy and my mouth was dry. I pulled the headset out of my ears as I dropped my brush on the scaffold. I heard a whispered "Holy fucking Christ!" When I turned toward the voice, I saw a crowd of people. My entire figure painting class was there with Professor McIntyre. Doc Henredden was standing watching as was Dean Peterson and most of the students from Fundamentals and Figure Painting. Melody and Lissa were in front and they both had tears running down their cheeks. I had no idea when they'd arrived or how long I'd been painting. I know I took a break a little after noon to use the restroom and get a drink, but I hadn't taken my headset off and I went right back to the scaffold without even looking at anyone else. Doc Henredden started it. Then everyone was clapping. I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights and I knew I was still crying, but right in the front of the crowd were Lissa and Melody and they were crying, too. Then someone shouted, "Sign it!" and soon everyone was chanting "Sign. Sign. Sign." I looked at Doc and he nodded to me. I looked at my brushes and palette lying on the scaffold and selected a half-inch round sable brush with a 12" handle. I dipped the brush into the deepest blue I'd applied to my drapes and in the space just before the painting faded into complete shadow, I signed my name. When it was dry, it would scarcely be noticeable. I didn't want my signature to detract from the painting. When I finished, there was another cheer and I got down off the scaffold. Melody and Lissa rushed me and I was squashed in a hug. We each kissed the others, completely oblivious to what was going on around me. I was so exhausted and thirsty, though, that I finally croaked out, "Water. Restroom." The crowd parted as I rushed into the men's room and pissed like there was no tomorrow. Geez! What time was it, anyway? When I came out, Lissa handed me a bottle of water and I gulped it greedily. Doc Henredden, Professor McIntyre, and Dean Peterson were all standing about six feet in front of the painting with students all around them. "It's the light," Doc was saying. "A single candle flame. Look how the figures float in the darkness that surrounds them, lost in their own world. But her eyes show an awareness of what is passing beyond. She is a tigress that has just feasted, but can't help noticing the gazelle that is grazing nearby. Look at these muscles—relaxed, but ready to leap in an instant. And my god! The second figure. Kate, tell them what you saw." Kate was standing nearby and was surprised at Doc's request. She picked up the narrative, though. "He was working down the figure and as he blended the colors, she seemed to fade out, like he couldn't move the brush further down. Then he grabbed an artgum eraser and erased the rest of the sketch. He started putting the second figure in without even sketching her. It was like he'd memorized it and just kept painting. And look at how beautiful she is!" Kate was shaking her head. Doc picked up the narrative. "Even though you can't see her face, her position is so peaceful and at rest that you can see the love between the two women. She doesn't grip her frantically. She is not a supplicant. She lies peacefully, content as the smile on her lover's lips." "Who is it?" someone asked. Everyone turned to look for me. Lissa and Melody had shifted away so they weren't near to me. I looked at Professor McIntyre and she smiled. "Um ... a friend. A very good friend," I said. "He worked non-stop for like eight hours this afternoon," Robert spoke up. "And nearly five hours before that," Doc said. "Tony, I was afraid to interrupt you and tell you to take a break. You were so deep it was as if you were in a trance. I'd like to listen to your soundtrack sometime." I smiled and nodded. All I wanted to do was collapse. "People, it's after nine. You should all get home and get some rest before classes tomorrow." ------- I had to clean up my brushes and palette after everybody filed by congratulating me. They all had to stop and put their shoes on before they left. There was a big sign inside the door that said, "Shoes off! Absolute silence!" It was closer to 10:00 by the time I was ready to go. Kate surprised me by staying behind to help with clean-up. She kept looking at me and then over at Melody and Lissa as they waited. I was so hungry my gut was trying to digest itself. I'd long since finished the liter of water that Lissa gave me and was hoping we'd find ourselves at Red Robin before long. We all walked out of the building together with Doc Henredden. "Good work, Tony," Doc said. "I'm proud to have that piece in the mural." "Thank you Doctor Henredden." "Uh, Tony?" I glanced over at Kate. She was still looking nervously at Lissa and Melody. Finally she plowed ahead. "I changed my mind. Anytime you want." Then before I could respond or even figure out what the hell she was talking about, she turned and ran off toward the dorms. I turned to my lovers, my eyes pleading. "Take me home?" ------- Chapter 6 "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!" It would have been appropriate if I'd been balls deep in Lissa or Melody. Unfortunately, I was walking into my Art History mid-term on Monday morning. Melody and Lissa had carted me out of the Admin building at ten last night and fed me. Then, the two of them took me to my dorm room, stripped me, put me in bed, and kissed me goodnight. I was already so exhausted I couldn't stay awake till they left the room. I barely made it to my exam on time in the morning and when I looked at the basket full of papers at the door I realized I hadn't written the Art History paper that was due today. I couldn't afford a fail on a paper in this class. Even though I loved the subject, I couldn't stay awake in the classes, so I wasn't doing that well on the tests. The papers were the only thing keeping me afloat. I couldn't cut Concepts because it was the last class before the mid-term on Wednesday. Damn it! I pulled out my Daytimer and looked at my schedule. After Concepts I had court time for two hours and I couldn't skip that because my coach was also my lover. She definitely wouldn't approve. If I got out of the Club by 6:30, I could grab a sandwich at the cafeteria just before it closed and start working on my paper by 7:00. There was nothing in my schedule that said I was meeting with Melody, so I would have four hours to write the paper. Damn! Do I have to have "meeting my lover for dinner" on my calendar? Tomorrow morning and this paper had to be in the office by midnight. Brian, our TA, was a born enforcer and I'd heard stories about guys getting to the office at a minute past midnight and being told their papers wouldn't be accepted. When the midterm exams were handed out, I managed to block out everything else and answered the four essay questions in record time. I didn't think I'd done badly, and I picked up an hour that I could go to the library and work on the stupid paper. I was typing like mad to get the research done that I hadn't touched in the past two weeks. It wasn't like I didn't know this was due. We got a schedule of assignments at the first of the term and a paper was due every three weeks. The subjects were even spelled out along with the requirements for the paper. I could have done this anytime I wanted to forego a few hours of hot sex with my girlfriends. Shit! I didn't eat lunch and headed straight to Concepts class. After an hour of lecturing on the properties of three-dimensional art—a lecture that we'd already heard last week, but Ms. Brock insisted on reviewing for the upcoming exam—we were each given a lump of clay. "Okay, people. This is the project portion of your mid-term. The written portion is on Wednesday. You should think of this as a portfolio piece. Here is your model." Ms. Brock uncovered an object comprising a bunch of triangles and diamonds on a pedestal in front of us. "It's a very subjective test, but most of art is. Don't try to duplicate the model. You don't have the right materials for that. Try to capture the feel of the piece. Show me what the sculptor wanted to communicate with the shape and balance." I sat at my workbench staring at the lump in front of me. It was supposed to be a geometrically perfect study in balance and contrast. My lump seemed dedicated to remaining a lump while my head continued to process the information I'd been researching for Art History. I didn't even have a decent view of the model. Everyone else seemed to be busy mashing, folding, and shaping their lumps. I finally got up and walked to the front of the room. Ms. Brock watched me curiously as I approached the model and looked at it. I'm not really into modern and abstract forms, but this was an elegant piece. I wondered who the sculptor was. Balance and contrast was a good reference point for looking at it. The diamonds and triangles weren't all interconnected once you looked at all the sides of the sculpture. The connectedness was a two-dimensional illusion. Some pieces looked like they were floating, even though when you walked around the piece you would find a different shape connecting them back together. It wasn't just the interlinking of individual shapes that got to me, though. When you stood back and looked at the overall balance of the piece, different shapes emerged. It was cool to just look from different angles and see different triangles and diamonds evolve. I must have spent 20 minutes just wandering around the piece and looking at it from all directions. I went back to my desk and stared at my lump, trying to see in it anything that approached the balance and contrast that the piece in the front had. I dug my hands into the moist clay and started squishing it together. As soon as my fingers touched the clay, I was in a different world. I'm not much on sculpture in general, but I love the sensual feel of pushing and molding clay. It felt so cool to have my hands in the medium. There's something elementary-school about it. I wasn't really paying attention to the model anymore. I was content just to push the clay around with my fingers. I'm not sure I even had my eyes open. The next thing I knew the class was over and Ms. Brock was standing beside me looking at my not-so-lumpish-looking lump of clay. I kind of liked it. "Not bad," Ms. Brock said. "Thank you." "I know you were concentrating, but did you notice how many students went up and really looked at the model?" "No. Didn't everyone?" "Not one. Except you. Why did you get up and come to the pedestal?" "I couldn't really get a good feel for it from where I was. I mean, it's three-dimensional. Sitting here I could only see one side. I'm sorry I disrupted the class. I didn't mean to." She must have been pissed at me for getting in front of other kids as they worked. I guess it was selfish of me or something. God, I hate this fucking school. Why can't I do anything right? "There's no need to apologize. I'd like you to take Intro to 3-D art in the fall. Do you think you could fit it into your schedule?" "I don't know. I'm doing a double degree between here and SCU. I just don't know how the schedules are going to work out. I really want the advanced portraiture class that Dr. Henredden is teaching." "I know painting is your first love, but I think that more exposure to sculpture could help your painting as well. This is really a fine bit of work you did." I looked at the lump of clay again. It was nothing at all like the model. It wasn't open and airy. It was just a couple of triangles linked together to form a sort of pyramid. "I asked you to capture the balance and contrast of the piece. Look around the classroom. Every single one tried to copy the model, seeing only one side of it. You walked around the model and created a piece that captures balance and contrast. It's good work, Tony. Not gallery work, mind you, but it shows a lot of potential in working in multi-dimensional media. Consider the course as you put together your schedule. I'd like to see you there. This will make a good addition to your end of year portfolio." "Thank you," I said as I gathered up all my bags. I glanced at the clock in the room and realized I had to hustle if I wanted to make my court time—and I did. "Good luck in your tournament," she said as she walked away. ------- I sent a text to Melody as I was walking to the gym. It just said, "Got a paper due by midnight. Can't meet for dinner tonight. Love u." My phone vibrated just as I got to the gym. The return message said. ":-( Miss you. <3" I got into my shorts and T and headed for the court. Lissa was already there warming up. I stepped through the door and the moment it closed a ball whizzed past my ear. "You're late!" "Only a minute. I got stopped by my prof after class." "More praise for your work? I don't have time for it. Play!" With that she sent another hard low ball toward me and I scooped it up and into the front wall. What was wrong with Lissa? She seemed angry. Geez. I wasn't more than a minute late and she's clobbering me with kill shots. I wasn't even warmed up yet. I missed the next shot. "Stay low! You can always come up if needed. It's easier than scooping down if you are too high. Now watch for it." She started another rally and we kept going over and over. When you are in a club tournament, there usually isn't a rally that goes more than four or five hits. One guy or the other flubs a shot or can't pick up the return. The higher up in real competition you go, the more evenly matched the players are, and the less likely they are to make a mistake. Lissa was playing at the level she was when she won her championship. All I could do was try to keep up. We hadn't been playing for more than five minutes when everything else just faded away and all I could see was where the ball was about to be. "Water!" she shouted. We were both doubled over and panting. I don't think either of us had any idea how long we'd been at it until we walked through the door to get our water bottles and take a drink. I glanced at the clock. We'd been going for almost 90 minutes. Lissa rinsed her mouth out and spit in the water cooler. "That part was for you. I need work on my backhand. Get in and serve to me." This wasn't going to be anywhere near the free-for-all we just had. I was going to serve every kind of serve I could make into her backhand. But she was ready for them all. She nailed every serve. I was getting pissed off, but I was also seeing something else. I got low and served a hard spike right up the middle of the court. She automatically spun and tried to pick it off the back wall but she was a fraction to late and didn't get a square hit on the ball. It fell to the floor just short of the front wall. "I said backhand! I need work on my backhand." Now I was really pissed. I sent another one sailing by her on the right and she didn't come close to picking this one up. "Can't you place a serve anymore?" "I put it right where I intended to." I shouted back at her. "What kind of work on your backhand are you going to get when you're sitting there waiting for it. You're cocked three-quarters to the left. Of course you can return everything I serve there. You're ready for it. Square yourself up for a real serve and I'll decide when it's going to be a backhand and when it isn't. You focus on returning the ball." I don't know where that came from. For a minute she looked like she was going to tell me off, then she squared herself up and waited for the next serve. I served two to her forehand and then she missed one to her backhand. I came back with the same serve and she nailed it. She was cheating left and I put another one so far to the right that I had to flatten myself against the side wall to keep from getting hit by my own serve. She almost didn't reach it in time and scowled at me. She moved further to the right and I skimmed one along the left wall. She pulled her backhand and took it off the back wall with so much force it almost knocked me over. All right. If that's the way she wants to play, we'll play tough. We didn't say another word to each other for the rest of the lesson. I just kept peppering her with serves moving back and forth across the court. There were about twice as many backhands as forehands, but she was too proud to let me slip one past her because she was in a bad position. We were drenched in sweat when we heard the next guys with a court reservation pounding on the door to let us know our time on the court was up. Lissa brushed past me on the way out the door and grabbed her bottle and towel. Then turned and headed for the locker room without a word to me. I ran to catch up with her. "Lissa! What's wrong?" She pulled to a stop and spun to face me. "What's wrong? I signed a model release for a figure painting class. I didn't know my tits would be displayed two feet wide in the busiest corridor of the campus. Shit! What do you think is wrong? It's like having your naked picture on the Internet." "I thought you liked the picture." "I did. It's beautiful. It's just ... I can't ... I always..." I wrapped her in my arms and she heaved a sob into my sopping wet t-shirt. She pulled back with a look of disgust. "Go shower. I don't want to talk about it." She walked into the ladies locker room and I couldn't do anything else. After my shower I hung around the lobby for half an hour but she had either already gone home or she was waiting till I left before she came out. I couldn't wait any longer. I couldn't get any food now anyway. The cafeteria was closed. I headed back to the library and started in on my Art History paper again. ------- I was standing in front of Dr. Bychkova's office at 11:45 p.m. with six pages of analysis of the conflict between Picasso and Dali. I knocked and pushed the door open to see Brian sitting there with his hand out. I placed my paper in it. "Just in time." He looked up. "Tony?" "Yeah. Sorry I didn't get this in earlier. I was pretty busy this weekend." "So I saw. Henredden is hauling everyone he can collar down to that hall. Nice work. Why didn't you just take a pass on this one?" I just stood and looked at him. What the hell was he talking about? "What do you mean?" "Dr. Bychkova assigned six papers and the grading will be based on the best five of the six. He does it so students can skip one if they need to. You've done fine on the last three and there's only two left. Why bother with this one?" Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! Of all the stupid, asinine, fucked up rules to have. I just spent an entire day working on a paper I could have skipped. It wasn't that great a paper and would probably be the lowest score of the six anyway. I hate this fucking school. I hate my life. I hate myself. I walked away from the office swearing at myself. I'd skipped dinner with Melody. Lissa was pissed off at me because of the painting. I was exhausted and I didn't know what to do. And my back hurt. I'd spent thirteen hours yesterday painting on a vertical surface in front of me. There is no way to get comfortable when you're working in that position. Lissa worked my ass off on the court and I cut my spa time so I'd catch her before she left. That was unsuccessful and for all I knew she'd never speak to me again. When I got to my room I was so tired I didn't even bother to turn on the light when I entered my room. I just stripped, walked across the room and fell onto my bed. There was a loud squeak as I landed on something considerably different than my mattress. "Ow." "What the... ?" I jumped up and snapped the light on. Melody was lying in my bed and it looked like she was very naked. "Brush your teeth and come to bed." "What are you doing here? How did you get into my dorm room?" I was just shocked. I certainly wasn't disappointed. "I met your roommate, Ryan, at lunch today. He's moved out. He and Arlene found an apartment and decided to take it now instead of waiting for summer. I convinced him to give me his key." "And you thought you would just move in?" "Not yet. But I thought you might like some company tonight." I did. I kissed her and all the tension seemed to melt out of my body. "It would be okay if you did," I said. She looked a question at me. "Move in." She didn't answer, but cuddled up closer. "How'd the paper go?" "I really don't want to talk about that. It was another waste of time." I headed into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Should have done that anyway, but I was so tired I just collapsed. When I got back to the bed she held the covers up and I slid in feeling her soft skin against me. She wrapped me in her arms and I was so contented I almost drifted off to sleep. A thought occurred to me and I struggled up out of darkness to ask her, "Does Lissa know you're here?" "We talked about it this weekend. We can't live with her and she doesn't want us not to be together just because she can't be with us. We agreed that we all expected each other to be with whichever of us and we'd trust that no one was intentionally left out. I had a really good weekend with her, Tony. And it wasn't just sex." She kissed me softly, but I wasn't ready to settle down yet. "When we played racquetball today, she was upset. She wasn't happy about the mural. Said it was like having her naked picture posted on the Internet. I hung around to talk to her, but she never came out of the locker room as far as I could tell." "That doesn't sound right. She loved the painting. I love the painting and it's my ass sticking out." I put my hand on the body part she mentioned and squeezed her cheek lightly. "No one knows that." "Ha! Sandra and Amy were all over me about it today. But I don't care. I love it." This time, the kiss she planted on me was enthusiastic and for a minute I was lost in it. I didn't think we'd make love tonight. It was just being together that was important. "I'm still worried about Lissa. Why can't she be with us this week?" "She's got the kids. I think she's a little nervous about having them around us." "I'd like to meet them. They are part of the woman we love. Have you met them yet?" "She picked them up Saturday morning after she dropped you off. We didn't spend anywhere near as much time naked this weekend as you imagined." "She seemed so pleased with the painting Sunday night. But it was just a whole different Lissa this afternoon." "Let's tell her we love her and miss her. Get your phone." I grabbed my cell phone and we both typed in a text message and sent it to her. "Lissa love, miss you. Love you!" I quickly tapped out a second message and sent it to Melody. She grinned when her phone chimed. We waited there a minute for a response from Lissa, but none came, so we put our phones on the desk and settled back into bed. It was wonderful to settle into Melody's arms and have her spoon up behind me. Her face rubbed against my shoulders and every so often she would kiss a spot. I could just stay like this forever. "What was that with Kate about?" "What?" I'd almost drifted off to sleep. Kate? "About changing her mind anytime you want. Were you propositioning someone behind our backs?" "No. I wouldn't do that!" I turned in bed and faced her. It was a lot more cramped in my dorm single bed than in Lissa's king size bed. "I wouldn't, Melody." "I know that. I'm teasing. So what was it?" "It took me a while before I figured it out. It seemed like it came out of the blue. But when we were working Saturday, she struck some kind of pose and I told her she should model. It was a big joke to her and she went on about how it wasn't going to happen. I think what she was saying was she changed her mind and would model for me." "That figures. She'd be a good model. I like the shape of her face, and she's tall. I could see her in one of those shadowy scenes that Sandra paints." "Why'd she run away?" "Probably had to run home and change her panties." Melody was thoughtful for a moment. "On second thought I don't think she was wearing any." "How could you tell that?" "If she had panties on she'd have taken them off and thrown them at you—my rock star boyfriend." She giggled. "As if. Why would she want to model for me anyway?" "That's easy." Melody kissed me again. "After seeing that mural, there probably isn't a girl in school who wouldn't model for you. She just wants to see herself through your eyes." ------- I've read some stories—online—and they all talk about guys waking up in the morning with a girlfriend blowing their morning wood. I woke up on the edge of the little bed with a faceful of hair. Melody was still peacefully sleeping. I've got one of those clocks that projects the time on the ceiling so I know if I can go back to sleep. My alarm would ring in about five minutes. But I thought the whole blowjob idea wasn't bad and maybe it would work the other way as well. I worked my way down Melody's body under the covers and managed to get her legs pushed apart far enough to get between them. I'd had my face down here before and we both really enjoyed it. The difference was I was under the sheet and blanket and her scent mingled with mine was trapped all night and pretty intense. It wasn't unpleasant. It was like opening a fresh can of coffee and getting a concentrated dose of that heady aroma. I started licking her labia lightly—not trying to probe or anything, just caressing her with my tongue. She squirmed a little and her petals began to unfold until her inner lips opened and I dipped my tongue deep enough to get a clean fresh taste of her. I couldn't see much in the dark, but I played my tongue over her smooth shaved mound and dipped back down to drag it over her clitoris. The little bud hardened and seemed to poke out further. I was sure I heard her moan and I suspected she'd woken up. A hand was tangled in my hair. Her hips started moving pushing her nubbin harder into my mouth. It was so cool to feel her passion rising and I could hardly wait to feel her come. She was moving toward it fast. I could feel her stomach pulsing up and down as I pushed a finger into her and looked for that spot along the top Lissa had shown me. Her pussy clamped down on me hard. Just as she came, my alarm clock rang. She shrieked and sat straight up, almost snapping my head back. But apparently the alarm didn't stop her orgasm because her juices were flowing all over my face and she kept gasping out squeaks as she panted. As soon as I was released from her grip, I struggled out from under the bedclothes and silenced the alarm. Melody was still sitting in the bed gasping for air with the sheet covering nothing but her feet. As she caught her breath, her breasts were bobbing up and down and were so incredible to watch I was mesmerized. I wished that I could really capture movement when I paint. That image was incredible. She was incredible. She looked up at me, her eyes refocusing. "That was interesting. I don't even know how to describe it." "A four alarm orgasm?" She burst out laughing and I hugged her. "God no! I couldn't take four of them! Let's shower. We've got to get to class. Maybe I can take care of that while we're at it." She pushed my erection down and it sprang back with force. It was a good morning. ------- We were laughing like crazy by the time we got to Fundamentals. We'd each received a text from Lissa, but it was just a smiley. Then Melody started in trying to figure out what the emoticon was for cunnilingus :p(|). That degenerated into us sending texts back and forth about the kinds of boobs you could represent (o)(o), an erection 8===, fellatio :-O=8, and asshole (*). We were still trying to figure out threesome when we walked into class looking at our phones and giggling. Everyone was quiet and staring at us. Obviously, Doc had been saying something about the painting since he had a slide of it displayed on the screen when people entered the classroom. "Oh geez," I whispered. "Are we late?" "No." "You are not late, Tony. I called the rest of the class yesterday and asked them to come fifteen minutes early. Everyone will get out fifteen minutes early as well." "I didn't get a message." "No, I wanted to discuss this piece with the class without you for a few minutes. Now, if you'll join us, I was just asking, what is it about this painting that makes it so special?" There was a general murmur and a suggestion of technique, freedom, composition. Doc kept shaking them off. Finally, Melody stood up and walked to the front of the class. I could see Doc begin to smile as she got to the front of the room. "All right," she said, facing the class. "I confess. It's my ass." She turned around and bent over. For a second I thought she was going to moon the class, but she kept her jeans on. Everyone started clapping. Melody turned around, bowed, and came back to sit beside me. I was blushing. She was giggling. When the commotion died down a bit, Doc started speaking again. "Lovely as your ass is, I'm looking for something else. Kate, you were there. You watched most of it take shape. What do you think?" "It's the connection between the artist and the model," she said firmly. "When you look at some of the great portraits, the most mysterious or those that touch the viewer most, it's always about the interaction between the model and the artist." "Yes. The connection is there. It is seldom a conscious decision. You can't walk into the studio and just say, 'I'm going to connect with this model.' But sometimes something magical happens and the link is there. That is when art speaks to us." "What about abstract art?" Sandra asked. "You mean the kind of art that you look at and ask yourself, 'what is it?' If you are in doubt, there is probably a weak connection. But it doesn't have to be that way. Artists can connect with many things. Everyone who paints has to paint a still life at one point or another. Most are mere exercises in technique, rendering, and lighting. But then you come to that sublime connection, like with Monet's Water Lilies, and suddenly you are lost in the simplicity of the connection. But not in all of his paintings. Of the 250 Water Lily paintings by Monet, scarcely half a dozen draw the viewer into the connection between artist and subject. The same is true of abstraction. If the artist has connected with the subject, it is likely that the viewer will as well. But it is rare. The artist must be in a unique frame of mind. The model or subject must have a deep connection. The skill must be there to reveal it. The rest of the time, we rely on technique, composition, lighting ... all the things you have mentioned this morning." I was a bit embarrassed and Doc never did mention what he'd talked to the rest of the class about before Melody and I got there. Mercifully, he moved on to normal topics and we discussed the techniques and paint choices for doing large scale murals. It seems that doing a dry plaster piece like the one in the Admin Building was really different than doing an outdoor mural on a building. Doc showed slides of several paintings on the walls of buildings and talked about how the surface was prepared. He rewarded everyone for showing up fifteen minutes early with an extra fifteen off at the end and the promise of a short mid-term on Thursday. It was nice getting out of Fundies half an hour early. That meant we had time to get lunch before I went to Art Orientation and Melody went to her textiles class. Sandra fell into step beside us. "I can't believe you did that, you tramp!" "I'm not a tramp. But did Doc Henredden really just say I had a cute ass?" "A lovely ass. Now that everyone knows it's yours, you're going to get asked out a lot. Better put a leash on her, Tony." "I don't think that's a problem," I answered. Amy was just coming into the cafeteria from her Advertising Fundamentals class when we got there. Sandra immediately started telling her about Melody's comment in our Studio Fundamentals class. That set them off and I easily excused myself to go to class before they had finished discussing exactly how close I'd been to the ass in question. ------- The week progressed with minimal hassle and I did okay on my mid-terms. Having Melody in my bed every night was a definite plus. We pushed the two beds together and aside from falling through the crack in the middle once, we were able to pretend they were one bed and still be able to get a decent night's sleep. I slept in Wednesday morning since we'd had the Art History exam on Monday and there was no class on Wednesday. Unfortunately, the only contact I had with Lissa was a call that said she had a business function to attend to on Wednesday and that she'd asked Rod to work with me during my practice time. I was disappointed, but said I loved her and we needed to get together. She just said she'd see us on Friday. Rod is huge. He's easily 6'7" and weighs about 250. The thing is, he's also fast. He can stand in the middle of the court and pretty much reach all the walls. It's hard to get anything past him. It was a good workout and I thanked him. He wished me luck in the tournament. Finally Friday came. Our last mid-term was a life painting to be rendered in watercolor pencils while the model posed. That was a challenge, but I like watercolor and the pencils give you really fine control over detail. With that over, we said goodbye to our friends going home for spring break and raced from lunch to the gym. Lissa and I were teaching Melody a bit of racquetball before we started our workouts. But when we got there, we found Lissa already in the middle of her warm-up. She was doing the same thing I'd done a few weeks ago when I'd beaten myself into exhaustion. Lissa was dripping and the ball was taking a punishment. "She's amazing, isn't she?" Melody asked. "Yeah. I love her." "So do I." "Does that make us weird?" "Not unless you don't love me." "I do love you Melody. I can't believe how much I love both of you. I couldn't do the painting without having both of you in it." "What do you think is bothering her?" "I don't know, but I think we're about to find out." Lissa let the ball dribble past her and roll across the floor as she sank down on her knees. Melody and I went through the door into the court. "Hello, sweetheart," Melody said as we approached. "Hello, love," I echoed as we both bent down to kiss her. Her hands went to our heads and held us to her. She was gasping for air, almost sobbing. Then I realized some of the water running off her face wasn't sweat. "Lissa..." "We need to work first and then talk," she said quickly. "Tony, work with Melody on her serves for a few minutes while I get some water." With that she rushed out the door. Melody and I looked at each other and decided the best bet was to show her we were listening and do what she said. We'd been working for more than 20 minutes before she came back. She'd changed into dry clothes and might have even taken a shower, but she walked onto the court with an air of authority that only the coach has. She gave a couple of instructions to us as we worked on Melody's serve and then said it was time to work on competition. Melody left the court and sat to watch through the Plexiglas wall. "Three games in the match, just like the tournament." I'll serve first. "This is your test run for the Intercollegiate Championships, Tony. Don't hold back." ------- "Control!" Lissa screamed at me as another of my serves hit the back wall before the floor. "You can't just power your way past me. You have to control what you're doing." Was she talking about racquetball or us? There was no question that I was trying to serve hard to her, taking out my own frustrations on the ball. But I knew that wouldn't win any tournaments. In fact, it wouldn't even test Lissa's playing. I set the next serve straight down the center. Lissa didn't even wait for the bounce before she sent it back at me. I saw it coming before it ever reached the wall. Six feet off the scuff in the wall, headed right back against the left edge. I didn't wait for it either. I charged the wall and sent the ball across court from about three feet away. It was all I could do to keep from smashing my face into the wall, but Lissa stood no chance of returning that one. Then we started to play in earnest. I couldn't close the gap on the lead she had over me in the first game. I made her work to keep it, but it was a foregone conclusion that she had me wrapped by the time I got my head in the game. The second game was a different matter. We didn't talk to each other during our two minute break between games. I saw John watching with Melody and there were a couple of other players I recognized there. Lissa stepped back into the court and I started the first serve. From then, the battle was on and it was all about control. Lissa moved me all over the court with perfectly placed returns trying to keep me off balance. An open division player comes into a game with a strategy and executes her plan throughout the game. The only way I was going to overcome her strategy was to force her to change it. I placed two consecutive shots right into her backhand. Monday she wanted work on her backhand, but I knew from experience that those hits were just as powerful and accurate as her forehand. But I'd seen a weakness there on Monday. My next shot came in close on her forehand and she couldn't swing back far enough to get the ball. It glanced off the side wall and hit the floor. I had my game strategy and started playing it. Life's like that. You keep taking your best shots, but success depends on the reactions of other people. If you're good, you can control their reactions, keep them off-balance, and force them to move to your beat. But there's always a player who is just as good as or better than you are. That player will control you and your moves. I felt like the court was the only place I was ever in control. I kept running from one side of life to the other trying to return other people's serves. That had to stop and it had to stop now. Lissa and I took a five minute break with the match tied at one game each. We left the court to get a drink of water and stepped in opposite directions, just as if we were in tournament play. Poor Melody didn't know which way to follow and wisely didn't try to talk to or approach either of us. She stayed in front of the glass wall where a couple dozen other people had gathered to watch our match. Someone at the club had posted a small sign on the door into the court that said "National Women's Open Champion Lissa Grant vs. Intercollegiate Competitor Tony Ames." When we stepped back into the court, our eyes met for the first time this afternoon. Lissa had a predatory sneer on her face. My god! No wonder she was the national champ. I bet her opponents wilted under that look. My eyes closed to slits as I stared right back at her. I didn't smile. There was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. She hadn't won yet. We were connected. In the instant before her first serve hit the front wall, I recognized what we were doing and it thrilled me. We weren't just playing racquetball. We weren't just having sex. We weren't just competing. We were connecting on a level I'd never imagined possible. I knew what she was doing as if my own muscles were swinging her racquet and she knew my moves just as well. We tested each other through the first three rallies and then things heated up. At the end of a dozen rallies the score was tied 1:1. This was going to be a long game. Like Open players, a Pro Division player enters a game with a strategy, but is adept at changing and adapting the game plan as it progresses. I saw the shift in Lissa's strategy with the first lob serve. It came down in the crotch of the back wall and died for a point. I lost two more points before I adjusted to her new style of play. Trying to describe every rally in a racquetball tournament would be like describing every lick and suck in making love. It's exciting as hell when it's happening, but it loses something in the telling. Lissa and I were both exhausted and dripping with the score tied at 10:10. The next point would win the game and the match. My goggles were dripping and the bandana I had tied around my head had exceeded its capacity to absorb my sweat. As I looked at Lissa, getting ready to serve for the last point, my heart was wrenched inside out. I could feel her desire as she bounced the ball. It wasn't just desire. She needed this point. I had two-tenths of a second to understand what I was doing when I sent the ball straight into her backhand. If I'd been standing in front of her return with my racquet directly in the path of the ball, I couldn't have hit it. It had so much spin coming off two walls that it rolled down the guts and hit the frame of my racquet. I flicked it back the direction it came from, but it didn't make the front wall before it touched the floor. I'd lost. Lissa won. I dropped my racquet and just ran to her and hugged her. Outside the court, about 30 observers were applauding. They'd seen a game they wouldn't soon forget. I couldn't care less. ------- The three of us were sitting in Lissa's van. When we came out of the court, the crowd was all trying to talk about the game and I saw Lissa slip away toward the locker room. I grabbed Melody and quickly whispered to her not to let Lissa out of her sight. I was afraid she'd try to leave without talking to us. Melody hurried after her into the locker room. I was waiting in the lobby when they came out and we walked together to her van. Lissa seemed resigned, but nothing would have prepared us for what she said once we were in the car. "My loves, I have to break up with you." We all sat there in silence taking in what she had just said. Melody was sobbing. I was stunned. Lissa sat quietly behind the steering wheel with tears running down her face. I could hear the echo still playing in the back of my mind ever since Sunday night. I love you. I'll kill you. But I'll love you forever. ------- Chapter 7 "Was it the painting?" I asked. Lissa had just stunned us—no, broken our hearts—by saying she was breaking up with us. I wanted to scream at her. Shake her. Plead with her. It had to be something I'd done and the mural was the only thing I could blame. "No," she answered. "Yes. The painting is wonderful, Tony. It's beautiful. I couldn't be prouder to be in anything. I'm sorry I blew up at you about it. It wasn't the painting; it's what I saw in the painting. It's what I saw about all three of us. It was so beautiful and so frightening." Tears were flowing freely among all three of us now and I reached to touch Lissa and found Melody's hand there with me. Lissa grasped both of our hands and pulled them to her lips, then leaned her cheek against them. "I can't be what you see. I'm a single mother with two kids. I have a career. I'm seven years older than you are. I don't even know how these kinds of relationships work." "Neither do we, but we'll make it work," I said. "Lissa, you are a part of Melody and me. It breaks both of our hearts to see you like this." "I thought it would be fun. I liked you both and I was lonely. I thought I'd just put some excitement in all our lives. I've never done anything like this before. I didn't intend to fall in love." "Darling, none of us intended to fall in love. We thought we were just experimenting—finding out about sex and things we hadn't done before," Melody said. I remembered her using almost those same words when we first decided to go to Lissa's house. Melody and I were barely more than friends when we started. The last five weeks had been an emotional roller coaster. "I'll never be able to play racquetball like you, Lissa," Melody continued, "I'll never be able to paint like Tony does. Shhh ... it's true. But my darlings, never in your wildest imaginings will you ever be able to love me more than I love you." "Let's go home and talk some more," I suggested. I said "home." It didn't really make a difference where that was, as long as I was with Melody and Lissa. "We can't go to my place," Lissa said with finality. "No problem," Melody replied. "We wanted to show you Tony's redecorated dorm room. It's three blocks away." Lissa looked at us and nodded. We got out of the car and walked to the dorm. ------- "Oh my!" We'd just walked into my room and Lissa was taking in the makeshift king-size bed we made by pushing the two singles together. We'd gone to Bed Bath & Beyond and bought a king-size mattress pad and "bed in a bag" sheets, pillows, and bedspread. Now it wasn't bad to sleep on. We'd pushed the desks together on one side and raised the adjustable height beds on their legs so we could fit the dressers under them. Melody brought the braided rug she had in her room and my dorm room now resembled a nice farmhouse bedroom. "Take you back to your wild and carefree college days?" I asked. "Tony, I didn't start college until I was married and Damon was a toddler. I never had wild and carefree. I'd never done any of this, before you." "Here I thought you were teaching us," I blurted out. "I thought models were..." Melody started at the same time and stopped. Lissa had never looked so vulnerable. I pulled her into an embrace and Melody was right there with me. "There were lots of opportunities as a model and I experimented a little—mostly kissing and a little petting. Jack became my manager and agent when I was 13. He guarded me like a mother hen when I was traveling—which was most of the time. I didn't have that many opportunities to socialize with other models." "That sounds kind of predatory," I accused. "Where were your parents? They let you be with this guy when you were 13?" "Shh ... Don't speak ill of Jack. He was a perfect guardian. I would have done anything for him, but he refused every juvenile advance I made—kindly and respectfully—until I was 18. I guess he couldn't resist me any longer." Lissa paused, struggling with her own demons. I willed her to go on, but let her take her time without pressuring her. "You need to know. It's only fair." she said finally. "My parents were killed in an auto accident when I was 12 and I went to live with my father's sister. Jack was her husband. They became my legal guardians. Aunt Jane got uterine cancer the next year. It was fast and devastated Jack. In just a few weeks, she was gone and it was just Jack and me. After the first time I won a modeling competition, he threw himself into making my career successful and I became the center of his universe, and he of mine. I wanted to be everything to Jack that he was missing since Jane had died." "Wait! You married Jack? Your guardian?" Melody asked. "They don't allow that, do they?" "When Jack found out I was pregnant, we went to France for a year and got married. Damon was born in Paris. When we came back, we were husband and wife and parents of a beautiful boy." "What happened?" I asked quietly. "Life. Jack is 30 years older than me. He loves me and absolutely dotes on his kids, but when I finished my associates degree and started working in the industry, he started to withdraw. He said he didn't want to tie me down. The thoughts had already crossed my mind, though. I know if he hadn't started the proceeding, I would have eventually. We were divorced a little more than a year ago." "All the experience you've had, though," I held the question in my voice. "All that you've taught us." "The blind leading the blind. Tony, you are the only man I've been with other than Jack. Melody, you are the only woman I ever ... loved. I'm such a fraud." "Um ... you know... ," Melody said, "if that was supposed to make us love you less, you just failed big-time." "I'd take you faking over someone with real experience any day of the week," I said. "You guys! Don't you see?" Lissa sobbed. "I lied to you. I used you. I'm so sorry! I don't want to get between you two. I almost drove you apart last week because I was so selfish." We'd all talked last weekend about how we'd have to learn to share and not be jealous of each other, no matter what combination we were in, but Lissa was still blaming herself for something that, as far as Melody and I were concerned, just didn't exist. I looked at Melody and could tell we were in agreement; this was all about Lissa. "Lissa, you and Melody saved my life," I started, still holding on to Lissa's hands. "A few weeks ago, I was nearly suicidal. I hated everything about my life. I was drowning. You'd pull me out long enough for a gasp of fresh air on the court and then I'd slide right back under water when we finished. Melody rocked my world when we gave each other our virginity—in your basement. But as soon as school pressures hit me again, I was right back in a funk. I'm not cured yet. On Monday this week, I was right back in the shitter. But you needed me on the court and Melody was in my bed when I got home. I'm way too much trouble for either of you, but together ... Oh god! ... Together, I'm filled with so much love that the hope is sticking with me even when I'm down. It's not just sex, it's the whole American dream—two kids, two cars, and two wives. How can I be depressed?" At last, both Melody and Lissa looked at me and broke out laughing. We sprawled out on the bed just holding and hugging each other. I thought—I hoped—that just maybe, we'd saved our relationship. Lissa seemed to be thinking hard, but she was cuddled between Melody and me and not letting go. "You let me win that last rally," Lissa accused, poking my chest. "You can't ever let an opponent win like that. People will walk all over you." "I didn't let you win it. When I saw you prepare to serve, I realized there was no way you could lose. I tried to return that shot. I could have been a world champion player, and it wouldn't have made a difference. Sometimes you just know the outcome before you make the play." We lay there holding each other, not doing anything. We might even have dozed off together for a few minutes. For those few minutes, Lissa seemed content to lie in the arms of her lovers, but she stretched and sat up between us. "I have to go home. The kids are with their nanny. I have them this weekend." She looked at us. I could tell she was still sad and if we let her walk out the door we might never see her again. "I just don't know how to make this work," she continued. "You think I'm older and wiser and more experienced. I think I'm a kid who has kids. How could I explain us to them? Or to my ex-husband? I'm just overwhelmed." "Hey. Let a professional at being overwhelmed help," I said, standing beside her. "And a professional at being overwhelming," Melody laughed jumping up with us. "I think it's time your kids met the rest of the family," I said decisively. Lissa's eyes got big as she looked at us. "Really?" We nodded. At last she smiled. "You have no idea what you're in for." ------- Wow! Was that statement ever correct! When we got to Lissa's house, two small hurricanes went tearing past us. One was on a blue and yellow scooter with his legs pumping as fast as they'd go as he circled through the living room, kitchen and down the hallway. The other was running behind, switched directions abruptly and nearly caught his brother as he squealed around the corner. A door slammed at the end of the hall and the voices were silenced. Lissa's house had always been immaculate when we were there. Outside of the kids' bedroom, there wasn't a sign that children lived in the house. This time, there were various toys, trucks, and building blocks scattered everywhere. Legos were hooked together to form tunnels and ramps for an auto racing track. Half a dozen books were scattered on and around the sofa. It was like a different house. "Molly, I'm home," Lissa called into the house. In a moment, a plump young woman, about my age came out from the boys' room and greeted us in the kitchen. She was even shorter than Melody and had big eyes that looked like they were used to laughing a lot. "They are little terrors today!" she laughed. "Oh! Sorry, Lissa. I didn't realize you had guests. I'd have made them put the toys away." "Don't worry, Molly. Sounds like you were having fun. These are my friends, Tony and Melody. We're hanging out tonight. Guys, this is the most wonderful nanny in the world, Molly." "Do you want me to get the monsters ready for bed before I leave?" "No" Lissa answered. "We'll take care of it. Don't you have a date tonight?" Molly blushed. "Sort of. But Steve's not picking me up till eight, so I've got time." "Baloney! Go get yourself beautiful and wash the gravy off your face before you see him," Lissa teased. "Unless you want to serve Steve dinner off your cheeks." Molly was beet red as she reached to where a splatter of gravy decorated one side of her face. "Those boys! We were one step away from an all-out food fight. If you're sure, I'll run. Nice to meet you Tony, Melody. Good luck!" As much as she'd protested and volunteered to help, as soon as she was dismissed Molly wasted no time grabbing her keys and bag and heading for the door. "I'm going home, Damon and Drew! Mommy's home," she called from the door. The bedroom door opened and the two boys ran to Molly to hug her before she left. Then they turned and seemed to notice their mother for the first time. Both boys' faces split into wide grins and they wrapped their arms around Lissa's legs yelling, "Mommy!" "It looks like you boys had a good time with Molly today. Did you learn anything in school?" Damon, the older boy stuck his lower lip out in a pout while Drew ran back down the hall to their room. "School's dumb!" Damon declared. "Jimmy pushed me on the bars and I fell." He pulled up his pants leg to show a series of Band-Aids on his shin. They had various dinosaurs and monsters decorating them, but I couldn't see any sign of scrapes or injury. Lissa lifted the edge of one to confirm the suspicion and patted it gently back into place. "Well, look at the bright side. You got a lot of monsters out of it." Damon grinned and hugged Lissa just as Drew came back with a colorful sheet of paper that had no resemblance to anything living or inanimate as far as I could tell. He held it proudly in front of his mother. She squinted at the paper and I was about to ask, "What is it?" when she spoke. "You are definitely improving," she smiled. "Did you use every crayon in the box?" Drew nodded proudly. "Boys, we have company. You remember my girlfriend, Melody..." We'd been watching this while standing aside and realized that we were holding hands and squeezing each other every time one of the boys did something cute—which was everything they did. Now we became the focus of their attention and Melody dropped my hand to catch both boys as they ran to hug her. They were certainly outgoing. I remembered hiding behind my mother whenever I was introduced to another adult. "Meddy!" Drew exclaimed as if she was a long-lost friend. Damon immediately looked up to me and I kneeled down on the floor to get to the same height. I held out my hand. "Are you Mommy's boyfriend?" he asked. Before I could parse what he'd said I'd already answered, "Sure am." He ignored my proffered hand and came straight to hug me. It was so cool. In a moment Drew was wrapped in my arms as well. "I'm Tony," I said. The greeting, though intense and affectionate, was short-lived. Within 30 seconds, the boys were headed out of the kitchen. "All toys to your room, boys!" Lissa called. "Story time as soon as you're ready for bed!" ------- I was surprised at how fast the boys got their toys back in their room. It wasn't long before they were ready for bed and I discovered I was the designated story reader. I settled in the middle of the sofa with a boy on either side. Melody sat next to Damon on my right. Lissa said she was going to get something going for dinner, but that didn't seem right. I asked her to please come and sit with us, so she got comfy on my left and Drew shifted so he was leaning against her instead of me. I read Go Dog! Go! and Hop on Pop for Drew while Damon patiently waited with Horton Hears a Who. I had to laugh when I thought that the same books were probably still in the back of my closet at home in Nebraska. I had the stories mostly memorized since I'd read them so many times growing up. I thought about home for the first time in a long time that night. I missed home, but I hadn't really thought about what it was. The feeling was so overwhelming that I couldn't think about it rationally. I missed my mom and dad. I missed my friends from school, and especially my art teacher, Lillian Stone. I'd always loved drawing and I guess I showed some talent for it when I was in lower grades, but Ms. Stone taught me how to control it. It was sheer luck that when they built the new consolidated school district high school, they hired her to teach art. She turned what I loved into a passion. I was looking forward to visiting her this summer when I went back. But that got me thinking about summer. The break was just two months away now. What would happen to Lissa and Melody and me when school was out? I thought about being home again and realized that, as much as I missed home, it was hard to see myself there anymore. Something had shifted in the way I viewed things. I felt more like this room, Melody, Lissa, and even the two kids we were carrying to bed were where I was anchored now. I wasn't even torn. I wanted to go visit my family and friends, but I didn't want to go back to Nebraska—not to stay. Just a few months ago, I'd applied to transfer to the University. I expected I'd hear from them sometime in June telling me when to arrive and what my financial aid package was. But I was no longer interested in transferring. I can't say I led a sheltered life. Mom and Dad gave me a lot of freedom. We lived in a farmhouse, but we didn't farm. The property was rented out to a neighbor. We had a barn that was used for storing hay and straw in the winter, but Dad had sold all Granddad's farm equipment except a small tractor mower at auction after Granddad died a few years ago. Dad taught in the elementary school and loved it. He had no desire to become a farmer. Mom was a dabbler. She worked at the local bookstore as a part-time clerk, but most of her paycheck seemed to go right back in the till to pay for the books she brought home. At home, she had a sewing studio over the garage where she made cloth bags and purses and explored a variety of fabric art creations that ended up on shelves in the studio and were never seen by the public. Melody would love it, I thought. The one exception was that every newborn baby in the area received a "Grimp." They were huge stuffed dolls with a fat soft body and really long legs and arms. You couldn't walk into a grocery store without seeing some kid dragging one of them along behind. Mine still sat on my bed back home. I wondered if maybe I should bring it for Damon and Drew. Being with the boys just brought out that feeling of nostalgia and I started thinking about how I was going to tell my folks about my new family. ------- "You two can use the spa if you want to before bed," Lissa said. "I've put clean towels in your room." She was nervous. It was different than being with her before. She was ready to go to bed alone and send us to the guest room because of the boys. I could understand. Gosh. You don't want your kids seeing an endless parade of sex partners staying in your bedroom overnight. But we weren't an endless parade, and sex wasn't strictly necessary for us to be together. This wasn't going to work. "Lissa, do your kids have friends?" I asked. "Of course." "Do they ever have sleep-overs?" I continued. "Yes." "Do you make the other kids stay in the guestroom?" "No," she answered, grasping my line of thinking. "We're your boyfriend and girlfriend. The boys already know that. We're having a sleep-over. We don't intend to leave you alone tonight." "I can't go in the spa while the boys are here," Lissa persisted. "I need to be able to hear them." "Why don't you and Melody relax in the tub for a while," I said. "I've got some planning work to do in my Daytimer that I don't want to put off until after break. I have to figure out what needs to be completed before I take time off for the championships. I can listen for the boys." Lissa looked at me with her mouth open, making little movements that looked like a fish. Melody took her hand and led her away while I spread my things out on the breakfast bar. I don't know if Lissa was more surprised at being relieved of child duty for an hour or that I was working ahead on my schedule. An hour later, Melody padded out in her bare feet, wearing nothing but a towel. She kissed me soundly and then whispered in my ear. I closed my books and turned off the kitchen light. When I got to the bedroom, I found Lissa sprawled on her stomach in the middle of the bed. One lamp lit the corner of the room shedding a soft glow. Melody had begun stroking Lissa's head, massaging her scalp. I contemplated sketching the scene, but instead I undressed and crawled up to join them on the other side. Melody handed me a bottle of body oil. While she continued to work on Lissa's scalp, I warmed oil in my hands and went to work on her shoulders. She was tight. Even after the long soak in the tub, Lissa was carrying tension that she just couldn't let go. I kneaded her muscles, alternating between deep pressure to work out the kinks, and gentle long strokes to simply soothe and relax her. Pretty soon, Melody had oil on her hands and together we worked from her shoulders down both arms at once. Melody and I watched each other carefully. Neither of us are trained massage therapists, but we just figured out what would feel good if we were in that position and as one of us tried something, the other would mimic it. We seemed to be doing a pretty good job, based on the sighs and little moans that came from Lissa and the lessening tension in the muscles we touched. It was good almond oil and before long Lissa's skin was glistening. Melody worked high on Lissa's back as I moved into her lower back where she was just as tight as her shoulders had been. As we moved together, Melody and I were touching each other as well, our sides and arms pressed together above Lissa. As I ran my hands up Lissa's sides, they slipped under Melody's hands and Melody stroked up my arms, then back down onto Lissa's shoulders as I slid down toward her butt. As Melody followed my hands down the curve of her back, she turned and gave me a kiss and we continued our massage. I think we found a hundred ways to massage the spectacular globes of Lissa's butt—palms caressing, fingers probing, jiggling, tapping, pressing, stroking. And eventually kissing each beautiful cheek as we moved down to her legs. I could make love to Lissa's legs for hours. By the look in her eyes, so could Melody. From the sounds we were hearing, I didn't think Lissa would object. I've always loved legs, but watching a cute girl in a short skirt doesn't even compare to putting both hands around a beauty's thighs and letting your thumbs follow the line of her muscles as you pull down toward her feet. Lissa's body is so tight there's pretty much no butt-ledge. It was a clean, unbroken line as our hands took long strokes from her waist to her ankles. The calves that guys appreciate so much when they see them in a pair of high heels are so delicate beneath the fingers that I wanted to cradle them gently, not just rub. I was acutely aware of Melody's body pressing against mine as we worked on our lover together. She reached across to put a hand on each cheek and drag her fingertips sensuously down Lissa's sculpted legs. To get a better angle, she knelt between Lissa's legs. I moved behind her and reached over her to follow her hands with my own. When Melody reached to start the stroke again, I let my oily hands flow from Lissa's legs onto Melody's, stroking upward from where she knelt and moving across her tummy and breasts. Melody's breath caught and she ground her butt into my erection for a moment before we both moved back and each lifted one of Lissa's feet to massage. Lissa once joked to me that she was a classic runway model—tall, skinny, and big feet. True, since at 5'10" she was as tall as me, and her size-ten feet were as big. There was nothing clunky or out of proportion though. Her feet were long and thin, with high arches. Her toes were as delicate as her fingers and it made me just want to suck them into my mouth. Melody caught my eye and winked. Then we both lowered our mouths and bathed her toes with our tongues. Her feet aren't very ticklish, which was a good thing. I'd have had a paroxysm if they'd been doing to me what we were doing to Lissa. When we finally petted her feet for the last time, I reached under Lissa and gently rolled her over. A little smile played on her lips but she kept her eyes closed as we started the whole process over again. Maybe it was a little more interesting for us since this trip down included those beautiful breasts, but as sensuous as the massage was, it wasn't overtly sexual. Oh, Melody and I were certainly teasing each other with stray strokes and we didn't ignore Lissa's breasts. Melody couldn't resist a little lick of each of Lissa's nipples. I was always between half-hard and hard. There was enough sexual edge just because we were enjoying ourselves and each other so much. When I started rubbing circles on Lissa's tummy, Melody linked her fingers through mine so it was like two hands and twenty fingers. Lissa was quaking as we moved down, carefully avoiding her plump labia and working the last of the tension out of her quads. I glanced over at the bedside clock and realized with a shock that we'd been massaging Lissa for an hour and a half. Little trembles kept going through her body and she kept moaning in a high-pitched whine. Melody and I linked hands once again as we settled down on either side of Lissa and with our joined fingers, we reached down and stroked Lissa's pussy from bottom to top one time. We didn't penetrate anything, didn't part her folds or try to find her clit, but with that one stroke, Lissa came up off the bed arching her back so that only her shoulders and heels were touching the sheets. The scream was ear-piercing. Not only was there a flood of juices from her pussy, but an equal flood sprang from her eyes as they flew open looking wildly around. They fixed first on me and then on Melody. Lissa's arms came around the two of us and hugged us close to her as she sobbed. "I love you. I love you both," she gasped. "Oh god, I love you so much and I'm so scared. Tony, Melody—please don't ever let me leave you. Please. Oh god, I love you! Please. Please." The sobs diminished as we kissed her eyes, her cheeks, and her lips, whispering words of comfort and assuring her that we would always be with her. We settled down and in a few minutes Lissa was sleeping, cradled in our arms. Melody looked at me. I whispered, "I love you." She smiled and slipped out of bed. She put on a robe and padded down the hall to check on the boys and make sure that our lovemaking hadn't woken them. She slipped back into bed with a smile on her face and put both hands on one side of her face to show me they were asleep. Soon, we were too. ------- Spring break went way too quickly. We spent the entire week at Lissa's house. Lissa still had to work, but we put more time in at the club, practicing every day. I was feeling strong and my game was the best it's ever been. Sam Jacobson came by and went over the registration information for the championships in Tempe. He gave Lissa our tickets and hotel reservations. He intended to join us as soon as he could get the quarter started at SCU. Melody and I went downtown to the Market one day. I'd lived in Seattle for seven months, just ten blocks from Pike Place Market, and had never visited. We picked up some fresh vegetables and fish, found some really good orange coated almonds, and tried on silly hats. We were sitting at a little café on the second floor when Melody suddenly pointed down the stairs. I had to shift my position around a little before I saw Kate taking an order from the counter and leaving the restaurant. "I didn't know she was staying in town," I said. "Where does she live?" "I don't know, but she's always alone. I suppose we should be more friendly." We met Lissa at the club at 3:00 and Melody took the car to go get dinner started. It was an odd practice. John brought in a doubles team and I played against both of them. By the time they finished kicking my butt, I was exhausted. I wanted nothing more than a long hot soak. I had to cut it short to be out front when Melody picked us up. Dinner was delicious. I actually spent a lot of time with my planner, figuring out what I was going to have to finish in order to go to the championships in April. Once I saw it, I surprised both Melody and Lissa by actually researching and writing my next Art History paper in advance. It was a good paper, too. I was really going to make this work. I got inspired one evening as I saw Lissa running hot steamy water in the Jacuzzi in the master bath. All of a sudden I could see her in a painting. She was expecting me to undress and join her since we'd had another hard practice, but instead I asked if I could draw her. What an unbelievable model. She sat quietly on the edge of the tub with her feet in the water for twenty minutes while I drew. When I asked her to turn her head and look at me over her left shoulder, the image was perfect. We had to run more hot water before we actually got in the tub. By that time, Melody had joined us, too, and we just soaked for an hour, laughing and talking. Life was so good. ------- When classes started again, I thought the buzz about the mural would die down. Instead, the work of finishing it kept the Fundies class busy with Doc Henredden and there seemed to be a lot of students who came to watch. I got a couple of notes handed to me by girls I'd never spoken to before, volunteering to model for me. Apparently Melody was right about girls wanting to see themselves through my eyes or something. Of course, Sandra was right, too. Melody was asked out four times the first week we were back at school. She smirked when she told them all she'd have to ask her girlfriend. When one guy saw us holding hands, he stopped us in the hall and said, "I thought you had a girlfriend. What are you doing with him?" "She said it was all right to sleep with Tony as long as I shared with her," Melody promptly replied. "And there's enough of him to keep us both happy." The guy stared at us all the way down the hall. By midweek, it seemed like everywhere I went there was a buzz about the mural and—to my surprise—the upcoming racquetball tournament. There was actually a poster in one of the halls that had the date of the tournament and a huge "Go Team PCAD" with my picture on it. I finally figured out that Amy and Sandra had put it together. After we turned in our projects for Ms. Brock on Monday, she announced there'd be no class Wednesday afternoon, so I found myself at a cafeteria table at noon with Melody, Amy, and Sandra, able to relax and shoot the bull. We were laughing like crazy at lunch and it felt good to be surrounded by my friends. Friends. It was a concept I was beginning to accept. "So, don't be offended, but I gotta ask," Amy said. She leaned across the table to Melody and me conspiratorially. "How's it work? You know, with you guys?" I was in way too good a mood to be offended. It was a little personal, but I decided to amp it up a notch. "Well, Amy, I thought you knew about these things. It's pretty simple. You insert Tab A into Slot B." Amy choked on her drink, but she wasn't about to concede the point. "But what about Slot C?" she persisted. "Well, usually there's a Tab D for that." "Wait," Sandra broke in. "You've only got one ... thing ... right? How can there be a Tab ... oh. Oh! Oh my god! I think I just wet my panties." "Well at least you're wearing some today," Melody cracked. Sandra turned pink. "Excuse me." We looked up and Kate was standing next to us with her lunch tray. "Can I join you?" We all scooted over and welcomed her to the table. "Speaking of wet panties..." Melody whispered to me as she moved closer. I grimaced at her and raised my eyebrow. She giggled. "Hi Kate," I said. "How's it going?" "Um ... pretty good. Not as good as it seems to be for you, but not bad. I ... uh ... wanted to wish you luck in the tournament. Wish I could come and watch you play." "Yeah. Too bad there isn't a fan bus to Tempe," Amy said. "We could all go down." "Are you going, Melody?" Kate asked. "Nah. I wish. I can't afford to just go jetting off somewhere. I'm leaving him in Lissa's capable hands." "Lissa? The model?" Kate was fumbling for words, but you could see the questions all over her face. "Lissa's my racquetball coach," I said. "SCU is paying for one athlete and one coach to go to regionals." "Wow!" Kate practically gushed. "So it's true you're transferring to SCU?" "Not exactly. It's a new joint program. I'll be doing simultaneous degrees at both schools. They had to enroll me in one credit of PE practicum and accept all my PCAD credits in order to make it legal for me to compete. The PE class is strictly pass/fail." Everybody laughed at the thought that I was getting a Phys Ed credit while going to art school. Sometimes life is just too ridiculous for words. "Two degrees?" Kate asked. "That sounds like an awful lot of work." "Not so unusual at universities," I explained. "Lots of people do double majors or multiple degrees. This just takes it across school boundaries. A lot of the courses will count toward both degrees, but if it all works out I'll get a BFA in Studio Art and a BA in something. That still hasn't been finalized." "Yeah. It still sounds like a lot of work." I've heard it said that there's a lull in conversation every fifteen minutes or something and that an entire room will go silent at the same time. It looked like we'd just hit that in the cafeteria, but I could tell there was something more on Kate's mind. She wasn't known as the most sociable girl in the school and it must have taken all her courage to just come over and sit with us. I guess I'd always had the opinion that she was a little stuck-up, but I was beginning to think that she was really just shy. Finally, she turned to Melody and whispered. "Is it really you in the painting?" Melody grinned. "Yeah, that's my dimply ass sticking out in the admin hall." "Did you ... I mean ... did he ... really..." Kate babbled, clearly unable to form a complete sentence. "Did I pose?" "Yeah." "Mmmm hmmm. And it's not as easy as it looks." "How did you ever get up the courage to ... to undress ... in front ... oh god!" Kate's face was so flushed that I was afraid she'd pass out. She really wanted to know what went on! "Somebody wants to get naked in front of your boyfriend, Melody," Sandra giggled. I could have strangled her. I thought Kate was going to bolt right then and there. Instead, a tear escaped from one eye and Melody wrapped an arm around her to keep her from running. "You're a fine one to talk," she snapped. Sandra had the good graces to blush a little herself. I could still see those plump breasts and huge nipples in front of my face if I closed my eyes. Melody turned to Kate and gave her a squeeze. "I know what you're feeling," Melody said. "And you're right. I actually considered getting drunk before I did it. Remember when we goaded Tony into posing in class? Did it turn you on?" "No!" Kate almost shouted. There were clear smirks on all three girls' faces. Kate dropped her head a little and whispered, "Not at the time." "Well," Melody continued, "I just kept thinking about what it must be like to be on the other side of the easel." "So you just ... stripped?" "Wellllll... , " Melody teased. "We got the sex thing out of the way first." It was my turn to choke on my food. Kate's mouth was hanging open. I was afraid she'd pass out from hyperventilating. This was definitely more than I was prepared to listen to. I didn't know what Melody was up to, but I was superfluous to this discussion. "I'm going over to the gym a little early and do some stretching before practice" I offered. "I'll see you guys later on." "See you later, Tony," they all chorused. "Sure. See you." I took off. Sorry, Kate, but I'm leaving you to the wolves! ------- School was school. I was finding it more tolerable now, partly because I was playing racquetball almost every day, and partly because Melody had moved into my dorm room. Twice, we'd managed to get Lissa to come and stay with us, and we were at her house all weekend. We were seeing more of Kate now, too. She was joining our little group for lunch most days and was proving to be more sociable than I ever imagined. She was still pretty shy, but every once in a while she'd catch one of us off-guard with a zinger that showed she had a great sense of humor. I stretched canvases, helped unload a huge block of marble for the sculpture studio, dabbled in different media, painted the new picture of Lissa, and went to class. On Monday, when I handed in my Art History paper two days early, Brian actually looked at me as if I had grown an extra head. I explained that I'd be missing class Wednesday to go to the tournament and he wished me luck. Dr. Henredden had already given me a release from class for the week and Prof. McIntyre told me my final project was complete and graded as far as she was concerned and that attendance at the remaining classes for the year was optional. Not that I was going to take full advantage of that. Figure painting was my favorite class. I stopped to see Ms. Brock before class that afternoon and she said she had received word that I would be unavailable for the week and as far as she was concerned I didn't need to be there this afternoon. Suddenly, I had nothing to think about but the tournament, so I headed for the gym. I was surprised to find Lissa already on the court when I got there. She was returning serves from John and battering each of them past him no matter where he served. He has a strong forehand, but he's nowhere near her level and she had no difficulty returning everything he served. Still, something looked odd. I stood there and studied the action through the glass wall. It finally hit me and as soon as John missed the next return I pounded on the glass. They turned to look and Lissa motioned me in. I slipped my shoes off and opened the door. "Hey guys," I said. "You're here early," Lissa answered. "Yeah. I was just watching. Do you mind if I make a suggestion?" "Shoot," Lissa said. "Lissa, you can return anything John serves. No offense John; it's the way she is. But you've got a gap in your stance, Lissa. You can't let yourself get sloppy just because John isn't as good as you. You're supposed to be preparing for Opens. You're leaning into your backhand to your left before he ever serves. You know you can switch back to the right to catch anything he serves. But a power-serve low at the stretch of your forehand would leave you watching the ball go by. You've got to square yourself up while you're waiting for the serve. We talked about that once before." "Wow," John said. "No kidding, wow," Lissa responded. "It was a strange day when we had that practice, but I see what you're saying. Let's run a few more serves. Tony, make sure I'm on target. If I'm developing a bad habit, I need to correct it now. And thanks." She smiled at me and gave me a little kissy face as I backed out of the court. I watched a few more rallies and then Lissa turned to look at me and raised an eyebrow. I went back in. "Better?" she asked. "Definitely better, but you've got to get up on your toes more when he brings his racquet back to serve" I explained. "You're delaying because you know he doesn't have the power. Stop thinking of him as John your trainer and start thinking of him as Yuri Gedov. You can't let him slip one by on you." She absolutely beamed at me and turned back to the game as I went back outside to watch. About every five to ten rallies, I'd pop back in and tell them what I saw. I gave a couple pointers to John on how he was serving, too. By the end of an hour, they'd both broken a sweat and were working hard. They came off the court talking about how it had gone. "That was so helpful, Tony!" Lissa said. "There's no way I could see that on the court." "Thanks for the pointers on my serve, too," John said. "Is there anything else, coach?" Lissa asked. I looked at her blankly. "Umm ... You're my coach," I stated the obvious. "It's a fair trade," she said. "Go get ready and I'll get you a partner to warm up with." John raised his hands in surrender and shook his head. They were discussing who they could get to warm me up as I entered the locker room to change. ------- For me, practice was light. Tomorrow, Lissa and I would fly down to Tempe and sign in. Competition started Wednesday at 9:00a.m. I knew some of the competitors would be coming from further away than me, so I hoped everyone was planning to get there on Tuesday. There was a welcome banquet that night and I wanted to get a first look at the competition. I worked on form and Lissa kept pacing back and forth on the court behind me as I returned serves from Rod and tried to get my serves past the big guy. It was a good practice. A small crowd was outside the court when we quit. I knew Melody and the girls would be there—they'd said they wanted to cheer me on to Tempe—but Sam Jacobson and Dean Peterson were there, too. So were a bunch of other kids from school and a few that I didn't recognize. They called Lissa and me over to face the gathering. "We're happy to have Tony Ames representing the combined student bodies of Pacific College of the Arts and Design and Seattle Cascades University at the USAR National Intercollegiate Championships in Tempe this week," Dean Peterson addressed the crowd. "We want to make some introductions so you'll all know who you're cheering for. I'm Nathan Peterson, Dean of Students at PCAD. On my right is Sam Jacobson, Athletic Director at SCU. On my left is Coach Lissa Grant, the reigning Women's US Open Racquetball Champion. And finally, this is Tony Ames, representing our schools on the court." There was a quick shuffle and Melody led Amy, Sandra, and Kate out in front of us. They were dressed in black leggings and sweaters and did a little jump then yelled. "T-O-N-Y. Goooooo Tony!" They were waving black pompoms. I cracked up. "And that is the self-appointed PCAD cheer-leading squad," Dean laughed. "Is there anyone at SCU who can give them some pointers?" Everyone was laughing and applauded the effort. "Tony, we want you to know that we're behind you on this and wish you well in the tournament. But win or lose, we know you will represent our schools with good sportsmanship and your best efforts. Now I think Coach Jacobson has something for you." Sam Jacobson motioned me over to stand beside him. "We've never had a racquetball club at SCU. I have a feeling, though, that you may have some others on the court with you next fall. This is an unusual way to launch a new sport at the university, but we want you to know that SCU is also behind you. I'd like to introduce Tim Kost, a senior and captain of SCU's basketball team. Tim." I had to crane my head up to look at the guy. He's easily a foot taller than me. "The teams at SCU want to welcome you, Tony. We rummaged around in the locker room and finally found a warm-up for you that we thought was small enough to fit." Everyone laughed at that. We must have made quite a picture standing there together. He handed me an obviously brand new warm-up jacket and pants in SCU's Maroon and Gold colors with the school's lion mascot embroidered on the back. I slipped on the jacket and modeled it for the group, which had grown since the little impromptu ceremony started. "Welcome to SCU Athletics," Tim said, shaking my hand. Everyone applauded and there was another disturbance as two really cute girls from SCU ran forward in maroon and gold cheerleader outfits, did a flip and landed in the splits in front of me with their hands raised. Everyone cheered. Then the girls sprang to their feet and each took one of my arms. "Tony, I'm Sonia," the blonde on my right said. "And I'm Bree," the redhead on my left chimed in. "We really aren't here to upstage the new PCAD cheer squad, but they said we could welcome you to the team, too." "The girls from PCAD have a gift for you, Tony," Sonia continued. "I guess you get to wear the PCAD school colors, too." I bit on the lead-in. Melody, Amy, Sandra, and Kate were approaching. "What are the PCAD school colors," I asked. "Black and black, of course," Melody answered as she presented a package to me. "Tony, we'll all be thinking of you on the court this weekend. And we'll all be waiting for you when you get back. You're the only athlete any of us know who could invite a girl up to see his sketches and be serious about it." That got everyone laughing. I ripped open the package and found a complete set of black Ektelon shorts, t-shirt, and socks. At the bottom of the package there was even a black jock strap. "I suppose this is for next time I model for you?" I asked, lifting the jock for everyone to see. All four of them opened their mouths in surprise. It was the most synchronized movement of their improvised cheers so far. The girls all arranged themselves around me. I was going to reach for Melody, but Sonia and Bree weren't relinquishing their hold on my arms. Sam and the dean were looking expectantly at me. I guessed I was supposed to say something. "Gosh. I'm kinda overwhelmed. I know some of you here from the club, and some from PCAD. I'm guessing that some of you are from SCU, too. It's good to meet all of you and I'm looking forward to getting to know you all over the next year." There was a cheer that told me there were probably a couple dozen of them here. There was a little squeeze on my left arm and the redhead's tits pushed firmly into my side. For a moment I lost my train of thought. "Anyway. Uh ... I'll do my best to represent both schools at the championships this week. I've never competed at this level before, but my coach has and with her beside me, I'll try not to be too nervous. I just..." I stammered, getting choked up. Damn! All these people—some that I didn't even know—came out to wish me well. And I really hadn't even done anything yet. I could feel tears of embarrassment forming behind my eyelids. I cut it short. "Thank you. Thanks to all of you," I said quickly. I quit. This time all six girls jumped up in the air. And everyone joined in the cheer. "T-O-N-Y. Tony!" cheered the whole crowd. ------- Lissa and Melody were both in my bed in the dorm that night. We'd made love together. We all thought it would feel more like college to sneak into the dorm together than to just go off to Lissa's house. Lissa's packed bag was in her car and mine was sitting by the door, ready to go in the morning. I was still feeling overwhelmed. I'd talked about the trip, the impromptu pep rally, the game, Lissa's workout, the new uniforms—I was a regular motor-mouth until Lissa and Melody both shut me up by covering my mouth with various body parts. Then we just lay there cuddling with each other, enjoying the afterglow. "Looks like Tony's got a couple more modeling candidates, if you ask me," Melody said. "Oh, go on," I said. "They were just there to promote school spirit." "What promotes school spirit better than sex with a star athlete?" she persisted. "Well, if I come back in the bottom tier, nobody's going to think I'm a star athlete. Those girls won't even know who I am once football season starts." "I wouldn't be too sure of that," Lissa said. "If the coaches and Dean hadn't been standing right behind you, they'd have had their hands on your ass instead of your arms." "They sure didn't want to let go of you when we showed up," Melody added. "We're going to have to figure out a schedule for all the girls who want to get naked for you. With the two of us, I think that makes seven who are standing in line." "What? Who?" "Tony, don't be dense" Melody said. "There's me. And you know Lissa, right? Do you need me to introduce you? Then there's Amy, Sandra, Kate, Sonia, and Bree. And yes, I'm sure." "I don't know how I feel about that," I said slowly. "I'd rather just be with you two and not deal with any complications." "Sweetheart, complications are going to arise," Lissa said. "I love you and I need you. But I don't feel jealous of Melody." "But you love Melody, too." "Yes. But it's more than that," Lissa continued. "We're not going to be jealous of you." Melody nodded against my chest. Her hand was playing with my balls and I'd never really softened completely after I came in Lissa a few minutes ago. "Speaking of things arising," Melody said. "I feel a situation coming up." "We should take it in hand right away," Lissa said. I felt her hand join Melody's and groaned. "Oh. He's in pain. I think suction therapy is in order." Both girls disappeared beneath the sheets and I felt the most exquisite sensation I'd ever known. They were kissing each other. Kissing with a lot of tongue. And my cockhead was right in the middle of where the battle was going on. "Okay," Lissa said, raising her head. "Last one until the end of competition." "What?" I managed, still dazed. "No wasting strength and no late nights when we're in Tempe," she explained. "We have to maintain a strict athlete/coach relationship while we're on the road." "Suddenly I'm not looking forward to this trip anywhere near as much," I complained. Then I gasped. The dueling tongues slid down my shaft to lick my balls and then slid back up to the top. If this was the last one till after competition, at least it was going to be memorable. ------- Chapter 8 Tempe was awesome—awesomely hot! It was close to 90 degrees when we landed and it was not going down. Fortunately, every place we went was air conditioned. Unfortunately, it was a real shock to walk into a cold room after being in the heat. I spent my time alternately sweating and shivering. We checked into our hotel and I was pleased that Lissa and I were next door to each other, though there wasn't a connecting door like I'd hoped. I was wound so tight by the time we'd tossed our bags in the rooms that I was bouncing around and just wished she'd hold me before I exploded. But Lissa was all business. She told me to change into my workout clothes and my school warm-ups, bring my court shoes and meet her in ten minutes. I did as ordered and was ready when she knocked on my door. We drove over to the University Student Recreation Complex and I was blown away. The place has 13 racquetball courts! Number 14 is configured for squash. As soon as we signed in, I was assigned a court time for practice. We got our credentials and headed for our court. A guy smaller than me was running around the court chasing his coach's serves. We watched and Lissa gave me a running commentary on what she saw. It helped me get focused. I was bouncing again when Lissa pounded on the court door at the stroke of the hour. Lissa got me settled down pretty good. We worked up from basic exercises to a short scrimmage so we could get loosened up. It was only 30 minutes, but by the time we were finished I was more relaxed than I'd been all day. There was a huge dinner that evening for all the coaches and competitors. There were 24 men's singles competitors, but there were also 18 doubles teams and the women's division of both singles and doubles. The schedule was packed. The first round on Wednesday would be men's singles at 9:00 a.m. It was a double elimination tournament, so there would be eight matches on eight different courts at the same time. The other five courts would be used for warm-ups and training. I would be on court four facing a guy from LSU. After the first flight of men's singles, there'd be a women's flight and a double's flight, then the second first round flight would go. The winners of the first flight would take on the next eight players. Friday afternoon at 4:30, sixteen losers would play to see which eight players would be the first ones eliminated. I just didn't want to be in that group. Lissa and I went back to our rooms and I lay in bed texting Melody for an hour. Then Melody and I got to texting Lissa and she laughed about us being next door and told me to go to sleep. I sent an "I love you" message to both girls and eventually dozed off. ------- Yanni, Live at the Acropolis. I'm embarrassed to say I even have the piece, but it was my dad's from someplace back in the Age of Aquarius and I liked the energy. It blocked everything else around me out as I stretched and warmed up. Lissa tapped me on the shoulder and I pulled the headset off as the announcer was giving the pairings for the first round. I got the first look at my opponent. Shit! The guy reminded me of Rod at the club. He had a good six or eight inches on me and arms like an orangutan. All he had to do was stand in the middle of the court and he could reach anything. He won the toss and served first. The game was on. The less time I spend talking about this match, the better. His first serve came skidding down the right wall and he was only barely out of the way far enough to keep from being called for a hinder fault. It went downhill from there. It's not that I didn't score, but I couldn't hold a rally against him. I lost in two straight games and was one of the first losers on the board. Thank god, it's double elimination. Every player is guaranteed at least two matches. There were other matches going on, but I was done until the first consolation round at 4:30. "Hey. Go watch the cute girls play in the next flight," Lissa said. "Don't be upset. It's your first collegiate tournament." "But Lissa, if I don't do well they'll take my scholarship away." God! I sounded like a whiny baby. I just didn't want to be embarrassed when we went back home. I imagined that everything good that had happened to me in the last month would suddenly evaporate. And I'd already started concocting a fantasy about coming home with a medal and invitation to the Nationals. "Who told you that?" "I just assumed. They give me an athletic scholarship, they expect me to perform, you know?" "Tony, nobody is judging you by your first college tournament. Be realistic. You're a freshman. The guy who just beat you is a senior and is seeded fourth in the country. It was a bad draw. Relax." I could think of one great way to relax, but she shoved me toward the bleachers and I plopped down to watch the women's first flight. I just stayed in front of the same court I'd played on. I pulled a sketchbook out of my bag and a piece of charcoal. I caught a couple people in the crowd who held still for a few minutes while they talked and I quickly sketched them. I flipped to another page. Sketching action is difficult. You have to put your brain where the action is and freeze the scene in your mind. Then you've got about 30 seconds to draw before the scene evaporates and you have to pick a new one. We used to do exercises back in high school. Ms. Stone had us go to various events and we had to come back with at least three sketches of what went on. I'd sketched basketball games, school plays, the PTA meeting, and a horse show. Now that one was a challenge. Nothing like sketching a horse turning barrels. The trick was to ignore any of the extraneous stuff like shadows, saddles, and costumes. You had to just focus on the line of action. I started sketching the girls as they played. I put down half a dozen sketches and moved to the next court. I had a soundtrack from Cirque du Soleil's Allegria playing in my ears as I spent an hour just plopping down in front of each court, making half a dozen quick action sketches, and then moving on. By noon, I'd sketched some of the doubles and was ready to work on the second flight of men. Lissa brought me a sandwich and a cup of coffee and stayed as we ate. She didn't say much, but looked through my sketches occasionally making a comment on one of the competitors. Everything was about racquetball. We were in an incredible sports facility. I was watching people play. I was even occasionally cheering a great shot. But I wasn't thinking about playing racquetball. With my sketchbook and charcoal in hand, I was able to separate myself from the game. When the second flight of men's singles started, I parked myself in front of court eight to watch most of the match. I'd be playing the loser of this match in a few hours. I sketched the two guys as they went back and forth. They were beautiful. I was way into Deep Forest when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I pulled my headset off and turned to see a tall brunette with flashing eyes and a great figure smiling at me. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her brown eyes looked like they went down into some shadowy depth that mere humans couldn't fathom. "Hi. I'm Allison Perkins. Couldn't help but notice you drawing. Did you do a sketch of me while I was playing?" "Oh. Tony Ames. Um ... probably. I hope you don't mind. I just do it while I'm watching." "Can I see?" "Sure. What court were you on?" "Six. One of the shortest matches in history. If you weren't there early you probably missed it." "I hear you. I got whipped good in straight games. My first collegiate competition and I didn't last a full hour." I started flipping through the pages of my sketchbook until I saw the court number and time that I wrote at the bottom of each drawing. "Who were you up against?" she asked while I found her court. "Rob Snyder, LSU." "He's an asshole." She snorted as if she'd had personal experience with the guy. "You're lucky you lasted long enough to get on the court with him. Did he try that thing where he almost gets called for a hinder on the first serve? I swear a receiver can't see where that ball is coming from." "Yeah. Took me right out of my game. Here it is." I held up my sketchbook to show her the page with her sketch on it. It wasn't bad. She looked at it intently. "Uh ... Tony. Where are my clothes? I did not play that game naked." "Didn't have time to draw them. I'm just sketching the action, not really doing portraits." "What about my right leg?" "You moved. Look, if you want a detailed drawing, take off your clothes and stand in the middle of the court for fifteen minutes in a good action pose. I'll put in all the detail you want." "Kinky." "Naw. I'm just an art student." "Kinky." She insisted, still giggling. We watch the game for a while and I turned back to a blank page. She watched as I did a 30-second sketch of one of the guys. "He needs a cock." "Can't see it, can't draw it," I said, pointing first to the court and then to my drawing. "Is Lissa Grant really your coach?" "Yeah. You know her?" "Like my idol. I saw her at Opens last year I'll be watching you." "Allison!" A voice barked at her from off to our side. "Let's get loosened up. You're flight starts in 30 minutes. You need to get focused on the ball." "Instead of the balls," Allison whispered. "Coach calls. Hope I'll see you later." I waved at her as she bounced down the stairs. That girl needs a stronger sports bra, I thought. I watched the first consolation round for the women. It looked like Allison was out to set a record for least time on the courts. She lost 11-2 and 11-1 in 20 minutes. I didn't get to say anything to her, though, because Lissa called to have me start warming up for my 4:30 match. ------- I can draw with almost any music playing, so I'd had my player set on shuffle. If something I didn't feel like came up, I touched a button on my headset and moved to the next song. When I'm painting, I prefer to work to classics and a selection of highly charged electronica. But getting ready to play racquetball, I was discovering I really like the energy of classic rock. Creedence Clearwater Revival was 'Lookin' Out My Back Door' while I warmed up for my match. I was rockin'. Just before I stepped onto the court, Lissa stopped me and took my headset and music player, handing me my goggles. "Tony, I know you want to go home a champion—maybe even go to Ektelon Singles, but the most important thing right now is this game. Not even this match. Just this game. Put your head in it and forget about everything else." I nodded and went in to meet my new opponent. As much a giant as my last opponent was, this kid was littler than me. I'd seen him practicing with his coach just before my court time when I got here and again in a match this afternoon. I knew he was pretty fast, but he was way overmatched when I saw him play earlier today. We shook hands and each batted a ball around a bit to get warmed up until the ref called attention and came in to flip the coin. He won the toss and I prepared to receive. I was still grooving to CCR in my head thirty minutes later when I walked off the court with my first match victory of the tournament. It was a little sad, because that meant that Jim, my opponent, was done. Man that sucked. I played hard, but not overly aggressive. The poor guy just couldn't return anything I served him. I've had days like that. I just kept pumping serves across the short line and he kept bobbling them. I wasn't even trying to make him run the way his coach did. We shook hands as we left the court. "Glad you got a chance to practice your serve so much," he joked. "You should be warmed up for your next match now." "Hey, everybody has days when things go wrong. Should have seen me get slaughtered in my first match." "It's great just being here, though, isn't it? I never thought I'd even make the team. Good luck." Nice guy. Lissa hooked my arm and told me to get a shower and change and then we'd grab a bite to eat. She wanted my uniform dried out before my next match at 8:30. We were down to 16 players in the tournament now and after the flight tonight there would only be 12. ------- I had to work for it, but by 9:40 I was still in the hunt. I called my mom and dad to tell them that I was still playing and my next match would be at nine in the morning. They wished me luck. When I talked to them last week, I was a little disappointed that they wouldn't be coming to the tournament, but I didn't really make a big deal about it. Dad said they'd been following the results on the Internet and that made me feel kind of proud. Then Lissa and I called Melody while we waited for my uniform to finish in the hotel's coin-op laundry. At 10:30 Lissa checked up and down the hall and then leaned in to give me a luscious goodnight kiss. I hadn't done more than pull my shirt off when there was a knock on my door. I just assumed it was Lissa, so I didn't even look out the peep-hole before I swung the door open. When the girl with flaming red hair and hot tight body pushed past me into the room, I was speechless. "Tony! You wouldn't believe what happened." She tossed an overnight bag on the floor and turned to give me a hug. "Um ... uh ... Bree?" I asked, completely lost. "Well, at least you remembered my name. I came down this afternoon to cheer you on. I got so caught up in your match this evening that I never got to the hotel to check in. Can you believe they gave my room away? I am so miffed." "What are you doing here?" I asked, still clueless. "I just explained. Sonia and I flipped a coin to see who would represent the cheer squad in learning about our newest school sport. I won, so I caught a flight this afternoon with Coach Jacobson. Well, not exactly with him, but we were on the same flight. I don't think he even knew I was there." "Sam came down?" I was such a great conversationalist. I was sounding dumber and dumberer. "Yeah. Didn't you know? He was watching your last match with your coach. Who, by the way, is one of the hottest chicks I've ever seen. So we're trying to figure out if racquetball is a sport that will be good for cheerleading, but it seems kind of crowded. Are all the courts like that with just a glass wall at one end? You couldn't have more than a few dozen fans at a completion." "Most courts are like that until you get to National Singles. They set up glass cages in the middle of an arena for the final rounds at least. I went to watch Opens a couple of years ago and there were almost a thousand competitors. but it's not really an NCAA sport, so I don't think there are cheerleaders." I lost my train of thought for a moment as Bree was taking off her sweater and shoes. "What are you doing here?" "I told you..." "No. I mean here," I insisted, waving at the walls. "In my room." "Oh. Well, since they gave away my room and I don't have any place to go, I was hoping that you wouldn't mind company tonight. I thought it would be a great way to get to know you better." "I've got to get to bed and get sleep. I've got a match at nine tomorrow morning and I can't be staying up all night." "Oh, I understand the athlete during competition thing. I won't keep you awake or make any crippling sexual demands on you—though personally I think the whole thing about abstaining from sex before a game is a bunch of hooey. But I'll wait till you're finished for that. I can sleep on the couch." "There's no waiting for that," I said. "I've got ... uh ... a girlfriend." "Really? Who?" I almost answered that question and caught myself just in time. I would have regretted that, I was sure. I was so thrown by this little redhead prancing into my room and making like she was going to sleep with me that I wasn't thinking straight. "A cute cheerleader from PCAD," I said vaguely. "Which one? Let's see. There was the dyke, the little chub, and two pretty cute girls. One was tall and skinny and the other one had sort of reddish hair and looked soft all over. That's the one, isn't it?" "Yeah" I agreed. "That's Melody. But hey! Sandra's not a chub. She's a little Rubinesque but..." "No offense. I was just trying to get to the right one. So, I'll clear it with your girlfriend before I fuck you. I'll tell her it's part of your initiation into the athletic department. Mind if I take the first shower? Since we're not doing anything tonight, there's no reason to shower together. Don't want you to have rubbery legs in the morning. Unless you'd rather... ?" With that, she grabbed her bag and disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on as soon as the door closed. I grabbed my phone and sent a text to Lissa and Melody that just said, "You wouldn't believe what just happened." My phone had just vibrated with a message when there was another knock at my door. I saw Melody had sent the return text asking "what?" and figured Lissa had just come next door to find out. I swung the door open as I started to text Melody back. Allison Perkins breezed in the door, gave me a kiss on the cheek, strode straight to the bed and started stripping her clothes off. She was only wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, so it didn't take long before she was naked. "I thought maybe you could fill in some of the details in your sketch," she said, striking a pose that was similar to the one I'd sketched of her on the court. She looked a whole lot better than she had in her shorts and t-shirt. The muscle definition I'd seen in her legs continued right up into her butt and her back. And I could see for sure now why her sports bra was having such a tough job on the court. I was almost ready to reach for my sketchbook. "What are you doing?" I squeaked instead. "You can't just come into a guy's room and take your clothes off. I've got a girlfriend." "Do you know how much I had to work myself up in order to do this? Just get out your sketchbook and draw me before I lose my nerve. God!" She was definitely flushed and I was not going to let the opportunity to sketch her go to waste, so I started rummaging in my bag. Of course, that's when Bree walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and stared at Allison. "Tony!" Bree said. "You didn't tell me we were partying, tonight!" "Is that your girlfriend?" Allison asked, mortified. "Oh god!" Allison started scrambling to get to her sweats, but Bree just stripped off her towel so she was standing as naked as Allison. Damn! Bree looked good, too. She had the pale skin and scatter of freckles of a true redhead and if there was any doubt left, the triangle of hair above her pussy proved the carpet matched the drapes. Allison stopped dressing with one foot in her sweats and the other raised as Bree approached her. She towered over the redheaded cheerleader, but Bree definitely took control when she hauled Allison's head down with her hand and planted a searing kiss on her lips. I still had my phone in my hand from my unfinished message to Melody and Lissa. I held it up and took a picture of the two naked girls standing next to my bed and sent it along with a message that just said "WTF! Help!" "Tony, this is really going to be fun! I like this one," Bree said. "Honest, I didn't know his girlfriend was here," Allison scrambled. "I just wanted him to draw me. Like in the action sketches he was doing earlier." "Oh yeah," Bree responded. "Let's give him some real action to draw." She was standing on her tiptoes so she could reach Allison's mouth with her own. She kept one foot on the ground and raised the other to wrap her left leg around Allison's hips and pull them together. "Oh god, you're luscious," Allison whimpered as she lost her balance and the two fell back onto the bed. Just then there was another knock on the door. I just opened it while I was staring at the two of them. For all I knew it could be another girl or both of their boyfriends. I was too dazed to care. Lissa walked into the room. She looked at me with a little smirk on her face and then turned to the girls and cleared her throat. They looked over at her and then both jumped up off the bed and faced Lissa, looking terrified. That was amusing. Allison had a nicely trimmed landing strip above very pouty lips that were beginning to open and show her arousal. I wasn't sure how much of that she'd been sporting when she came into the room and how much was a result of Bree's steamy attack. And they both had tits to die for. Bree's nipples were a little bigger, and lighter in color than Allison's. For as big as Allison's boobs were, though, her areolae and nipples were delicate and perched high. Both girls stood straight at attention as they faced Lissa. "Coach Grant," Bree said. Allison's mouth just worked up and down. I knew from our earlier conversation that she was in awe of Lissa already. "Ma'am," she finally squeaked out. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ... I only wanted to ... I mean..." "Ladies," Lissa said firmly, "I don't want to hear it. But there are rules. He's out of play with a match in the morning. You are free to stay here, but no room service, no liquor, and no pay per view movies. Do you understand?" "Yes ma'am," Bree said. Her eyes were about as big around as saucers and Allison was still near tears at being caught like this by her idol. Lissa didn't respond. She just grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the room before the girls could say anything else. In a heartbeat we were inside Lissa's room and she started giggling like a little girl. "You have got to check the peep-hole before you open your door, Tony!" she laughed. "Did they come in together or one at a time?" "One at a time. I'm sorry, Lissa. Bree just marched in and said she'd come to cheer at the match and the hotel gave her room away and that she was going to have to sleep on my couch. Then she went in to take a shower and Allison came in. She just stripped off her clothes, posed, and asked me to draw her. Then Bree..." By that time Lissa was laughing so hard she had tears rolling down her cheeks. My phone had been chiming every thirty seconds since I sent the photo message. I finally flipped it open and there were a dozen messages from Melody asking what was going on and if I was okay. Lissa and I both started texting her back as fast as we could. Melody was sending back "LOL" and "ROFLMAO" messages. Finally she sent one back that just said, "Please stop. In tears!" I quit messaging and dialed her. "Eight!" was the first thing she said when she answered the phone. I could hear voices laughing in the background. "I told you Bree wanted to get naked with you. I might have to kill her. I like that Allison, though. She's got balls!" "Um ... not that I could see. And I'm pretty sure I'd have noticed." Lissa signaled me to put it on speaker-phone. She could hear the laughter at the other end. "Who's with you, Little One?" she asked. "Oh we're all here, sweetheart. Amy, Sandra, and Kate. I'm sorry, Tony and Lissa. I couldn't keep us a secret from them." Lissa looked at me and raised an eyebrow. I could tell she was a little worried. I was confident that Melody wouldn't have told them if there was any doubt that they'd keep our secret, but for Lissa's sake I had to say something after they'd chimed out their "Hi's" in the background. "Ladies," I said, "you all know how difficult this could be on Melody and me. But it could be really hard on Lissa if people found out we were ... you know ... with my coach. You're our friends, though, and we don't want to be isolated from everyone we know. Just, please, treat our relationship in confidence, okay?" "Hey, this is Amy. We're all for you and wouldn't do a thing to hurt you. If anything, we three are a little jealous. Just be our friends, okay?" "You got it, Amy," I ageed. "This is Kate. I just want to say thank you for including me. And, yeah. Ditto." "You know me," Sandra said. "I'll just be hanging around waiting my turn. Seriously, we all love you three and won't tell a soul. You have our word. We're really happy for you." "Thank you," Lissa said. "Would you all mind if we take this off speaker phone now so Tony and I can say goodnight to our sweetheart?" Everybody said goodnight and good luck tomorrow. We could hear the difference as Melody put the phone to her ear. "You guys headed for bed now?" she asked. "Yeah" I offered. "I've got a match at nine." "I miss you. Wish I was there." "Wish you were here, too, honey," Lissa said. "It's going to be hard sleeping with this guy when he can't fool around. Our boy needs his rest. We love you." "I bet it will be hard," Melody giggled. "Cuddle each other for me, okay?" "Love you, Melody. 'Night." I said. I breathed a big sigh and turned to Lissa after I disconnected. "Are you worried, lover?" Lissa shook her head. "It wouldn't be good if it was general knowledge on the competition circuit or in the athletic department that the three of us are involved. Technically, I'm not faculty, so I don't think there'd be many questions from SCU. PCAD seems to allow a little more artistic license in relationships, but when word is out to a few, you've got to assume that everyone knows. I don't want you and Melody to suffer because of me, but I'm glad you've got friends." "We've got friends, Lissa. Those girls will be just as good of friends to you if you let them. Speaking of which, I hope you'll introduce us to some of your friends soon," I said. "You know, Lissa, it's not about Melody and me. It's about the three of us together." "Let's take it slow, Tony. I want everything with you, but I'm just not ready to face the PTA, okay?" She kissed me gently and whispered, "Someday." We just held each other, standing there in the middle of a hotel room a thousand miles from home. Right then I was ready to skip the rest of the tournament and just take her to bed with me. "Look, it's almost midnight. Get yourself in bed." "I'll sleep on the couch." "Nonsense. Just because we're not having sex tonight doesn't mean we can't cuddle up and sleep together. Since it seems your bed is occupied, I couldn't stand it if you didn't sleep in my arms." ------- Lissa and I ordered room service breakfast in the morning. It was good and light. I was definitely ready for the challenge on the courts. We opened the door to my room next door cautiously after knocking lightly. I wasn't sure what to expect. It was quiet and the girls who invaded the night before were gone. The bed, however, showed signs of active use—very active. All the towels were wet, too. I guess they just got out early. I grabbed my bag and we headed for the rec hall. That's where the shit hit the fan. It was a neat display; I had to give them credit for that. They'd commandeered what used to be the message board where you could post notes for other people at the event. Now the board held a nice display of my drawings from yesterday. Over the top was a neatly printed sign that read "Action sketches from the competition by SCU/PCAD competitor Tony Ames." I groaned and Lissa sent me to get ready while she went to find Bree and Allison. Her lips were set in a firm line as she left. When I went to my locker, the entire bay cleared out. The other competitors just turned their backs and walked out of the locker room. I walked to my court for warm-ups and recognized my opponent as Wally Barnes. He was the same guy that sent me Jim yesterday afternoon. Apparently, Wally'd been defeated last night. He was one of the few guys that I'd sketched. I held out my hand to greet him and he turned his back on me. It was a quiet warm-up. The ref called attention and announced the game. Wally won the toss and took the ball to serve. Just as he bounced the ball for service, I heard him mutter, "Eat shit, faggot." He must have said it louder than he intended because the ref's whistle was blowing before the ball hit the front wall. "Technical foul. Poor sportsmanship. Deduction of one point. No serve." Holy shit! In racquetball if you get called for a technical foul you lose a point, even if you don't have a point to lose. I didn't expect the refs here to be so hard on people. If he heard the comment, I figured it would merit a warning, but not a foul. We hadn't really started the game yet and I was leading 0 to -1. Wally was really going to be pissed if he lost by that point. I couldn't figure out why the hell he was so upset. Sure, there was a drawing of him posted on the board, but it was a good drawing, damn it. What's with the faggot shit? He came back strong with his next serve and evened the score at 0-0. I had to put his trash talk out of my head and get with it or this would be my last match. We played hard with the score rocking back and forth, but when he had me down 10-9, I could tell he was regretting the point he lost with his profanity. I saw his muscles bunch as he went into his service motion and knew before the ball left his racquet exactly where it was going to come to me. The ref called "side out" and I stepped up to serve. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure he was ready and could see the sneer on his face. Yeah? I thought. Well eat this. Two aces later I was up one game to none in the match. Wally was good—the strongest I'd faced since my disastrous first round. He nailed me in the second game and after a five minute break he was back in the service zone. He pushed off for a drive serve and I was right behind him, five feet back at the safety line. We played hard for over 20 minutes until my last serve came scooting back against the wall three feet away from me and he flubbed the return. He turned and argued with the ref for a hinder, but the line judge put thumbs down and the match was mine. He still ignored my offered hand and stormed off the court. I stepped out and Lissa grabbed me to head in the opposite direction. That's when I noticed I had a little fan section. Bree and Allison were cheering for me and chanting my name. Jim, the guy I beat yesterday afternoon was there, too. A couple of the other women I'd sketched yesterday who weren't playing in the morning match were clapping. What surprised me though was that beside Coach Jacobson, I saw my dad. I ran up and gave him a hug. "Dad! When did you get here? Did mom... ?" "Just me. We looked up the scores and the competition clips last night and I decided to catch a plane down from Omaha early this morning. Sorry I didn't get here for the start of the match. I heard there were some fireworks." "Yeah. It was nothing intentional. I think it did more to throw him off than me. It's just these two..." I pointed at Bree and Allison. "We're sorry, Tony. I had no idea they'd create such a mess," Bree said. "I told her about them and I just thought they were so neat that people should see them. But we took them down," Allison said. Both of them were looking up at Coach Jacobson and he nodded. I had a feeling he had something to do with the removal. Bree handed me my sketchbook with the loose drawings inside the cover. While Lissa introduced herself to my dad, Sam pulled me aside. "Tony, show me some good sportsmanship. You represent our school," he whispered. I didn't have time to ask if I'd done something wrong when somebody cleared his throat behind me and said, "Excuse me." I turned to find Wally behind me. I might have cringed a little, not knowing what to expect, but if anything he looked contrite. Behind him I could see his coach with his arms folded glaring, not at me, but at Wally. "I just wanted to say 'sorry, ' man. You're a good competitor and I lost my cool. There was all kinds of trash being talked about you in the locker room and ... Anyway. Congratulations." He held out his hand and I shook it gladly. "It wasn't my idea to have any of that stuff displayed," I said. "I'm sorry if you were offended or if you took any crap because of it. I hope we'll meet on the court again." He nodded. Then I had a sudden inspiration. "Hey. Would you like the drawing? You can do whatever you want with it then and you won't have to worry about anyone else seeing it." "Really?" "Sure." I leafed through the loose pages in my book and pulled out the picture of him. He took it and looked at it closely. His eyes came up and met mine and he smiled. He pushed the page back at me and I thought he was refusing. "Sign it?" he asked. We all laughed and I grabbed a pencil out of my bag, scrawled my name on the bottom, and handed it back. "Thanks. Good luck for the rest of the tournament." "Now," Dad said. "Come and tell me about how things are going and introduce me to all your fans here." "How about if I shower and change first. I've got to rinse out my clothes and get them dry before my noon match." "Here, Tony," Sam said. He handed me a bag. "With the schedule today I figured you might need a fresh change. Just put your dirty uniform in the bag and Bree will go wash it." "What?" the cheerleader screamed. Coach turned to her and said firmly, "And it had better not come back faded or shrunk, understand, Brianna?" "Yes, father," she said. "Wait. Coach Jacobson is your dad?" Bree nodded while Sam just laughed. "And she can be quite a handful; but I think you already know that." "Yeah. But ... I mean, nothing happened, Coach. Really." "So I've heard," he chuckled. He waved me off toward the showers and turned to talk to my dad. ------- My noon match was with a guy who'd suffered his first loss that morning to the same Rob that had trounced me in the first match. We sized each other up on the court, but I didn't detect any antagonism. We'd both lost to the same guy, so it was like a race for second place between the two of us. The matches were getting longer as the competition got tougher. We played three games and were never more than two points apart. I felt like it was sheer luck that I nailed my last serve and pulled out the match. It seemed like there was less and less time between matches now as the field narrowed. Bree handed me a clean uniform on my way into the locker room and took my dirty one on the way out to lunch. "I can do my own laundry, Bree," I said. "No way. If dad found out I didn't comply, I'd never hear the end of it. He is the athletic director, you know." She leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear. "You are so going to owe me when this is over, though." I swear, the swivel in her hip when she turned and walked away from me could have knocked me over from across the room. Maybe if I left now, I could be back home before she knew I was missing. We had a light lunch and dad was enthusiastic about my prospects. He obviously liked Lissa—who wouldn't?—and was amused by the unending line of girls who came by asking if they could have my sketch of them and if I'd sign it. Sam Jacobson was steering the conversation around to National Singles and said that if I was in the top tier the school would send me. "Whatever happens, though, we're glad to have you as a member of our team. The founding member, as it happens." I finished the last spoonful of the rich, meaty soup Lissa had ordered for me. All I had to drink was water. I was drinking like I was parched. The Ektelon National Singles Tournament. Wow! It was really a possibility. When Bree came to the table she brought Allison with her and both girls seemed a little less sexually aggressive toward me. I suppose that had to do with Lissa, Dad, and Sam all being there. "You seem to have cheerleaders, too," Dad said, looking at Bree and Allison. "Yeah. Much as I like 'em around, though, I don't think racquetball is really going to become a cheerleader sport." I joked. "Just isn't enough room for their ... uh ... gymnastics." I grinned at Bree. I was willing to joke and tease them, but I was staying glued to Lissa's side. For some reason, I think Dad noticed. ------- My next opponent was a kid from SoCal. He was good, fast, and had a backhand that sizzled. Once you dropped to the lower bracket—as in having lost once—games were only to 11 points instead of 15 until semi-finals. We played three hard games and I ended up winning 11-8 on the last game. He just sort of fizzled in the last ten minutes. It was like sudden death. One minute a guy's a contender for a berth at National Singles and the next minute he's out of the competition. I had to figure out how to stop feeling so bad about those who lost. I was sure most of them wouldn't be that upset if I went down. The next crisis appeared in the form of my opponent in the semi-finals at seven o'clock that night. While I'd dealt with the guy from Memphis State, Rob Snyder had fallen to the defending National Intercollegiate Champion, Karl Higgendorfer. So the semi-final match was going to be a replay of my first match of the tournament. This was not going to be fun. Lissa led me away after my shower and change at five and just gave me water and a power bar for dinner. We talked strategy and she took my music player from me. After scanning through my playlists, she set one playing and put my headset over my ears. I was told to stay put until warm-up time. The music was mostly dubstep with a mix of grunge tossed in. It had an underlying edge and strength that just filled me up. She'd started the list with "Fire and Ice." By the time she called me to warm-up, I was listening to Alice in Chains pounding out. "We pay our debt sometime." Rob won the toss—I hadn't won one since the tournament began—and elected to serve. The ref called "first serve" and Rob looked over his shoulder to make sure I was ready. I had my racquet held up over my head as I scuffed at an imagined wet spot on the floor then stepped back across the receiving line while I slowly counted to five and lowered my racquet. When the ref calls the serve, the server has ten seconds to put the ball in play, but he has to wait for the receiver to be ready. Racquet held over the head is a sign to wait. If I took too long, I'd be called for a penalty, but waiting five seconds gave Rob only five seconds to center and serve. As soon as he turned away from me I moved to the right. I knew just where this ball was coming and when it whistled down the sidewall toward me, I sent it back so hard and so close to Rob's head that he ducked instinctively. Before he'd regained his balance, the ball came off the front wall and bounced off his foot. "Side out!" the ref called. I picked up the ball and moved to the service area. "Now let's play racquetball," I said lowly as Rob passed me. He jerked toward me with a scowl on his face, but he didn't raise his racquet, so as soon as his toes were behind the receiving line, I made a driving serve to the left. He returned, but it was weak and I came back for the point. Rob is a hell of a competitor and he adjusted fast to my more aggressive strategy. Before we'd finished the first game, it was beginning to get physical. You see action photos in magazines and the players are always diving across the court with racquet outstretched. Their bodies are parallel to the floor and you know that in less than a second that player is going to smash down on the hardwood and burn the skin off his whole body. Well, that's how our match was turning out. It wasn't just me diving, either. I was keeping the ball low and hard and Rob was spending a lot of time bending and scooping in order to keep the ball in play. I won the first game, he won the second. I was in control in the third leading by two points and only two points from victory when the unthinkable happened. It was legit. There was no evidence that he was doing anything but going for the ball, but he took my legs out from under me when he hit me and I did an almost complete backflip before I came down. Almost complete. My right ankle was turned awkwardly when I hit and I felt the pain lance up all the way into my hip. I screamed and heard the ref blow the whistle and yell "Time out!" Lissa and Sam were on the court before Rob had managed to leave it. They were quickly followed by the tournament doctor and an ASU trainer who'd been assisting all athletes. The doctor pulled my shoe off and felt around my ankle. It was tender but I was determined to get back on it. Sam and the trainer hooked themselves under my arms and helped me off the court. I didn't put much weight on it as I moved off. Dad was there as soon as I was down on a bench with his hand on my shoulder asking me how I was. I couldn't focus on him, though. I had to listen to the doctor as he poked and prodded. I saw Lissa look at him and he sort of shrugged. She took my face in her hands and forced my head around to look her straight in the eyes. "Tony, how badly do you want to go to National Singles?" she asked. "Lissa, I can do this. I want to do this. I can take him. I just want to get there. It's important." She looked deep into my eyes as if she could read how committed I was and then she looked up at Sam and motioned for him to follow her. "Trust me, Tony," she said as she left. "You should stay off of this," the doctor said, checking under the ice pack. "No tournament is worth permanent injury." "It's okay, son," Dad said, but I shook them both off and turned to the trainer. "Tape it," I said. He looked at the doctor and the doctor shrugged again. The trainer pulled out a roll of athletic tape and began quickly wrapping my ankle and crossing below my arch. The tightness of the tape would support the injury and hold the swelling down until I finished the match. +I was getting nervous. I could only catch glimpses of Lissa and Sam talking to the ref and line judge. They'd called a guy in a suit over who I recognized as the tournament director. In a match, you get a maximum of fifteen minutes to recover from an injury and resume play. I was fidgeting around trying to get my sock and shoe on so I could return to the court. I knew I only had a minute or two left. Dad was still touching my shoulder, trying to just pour his strength into me. I stood up and felt the twinge in my ankle as I put weight on it. The ref had returned to his microphone with Sam, Lissa, and the tournament director following him. I'd taken only one step toward the court when he spoke over the public address system. Almost 200 people gathered in front of the court for the semi-final went silent. "Ladies and gentlemen, Competitor Tony Ames of Seattle Cascades University concedes the game. Game and match go to Rob Snyder of LSU." The scream in my throat turned to a sob before it reached my mouth and I collapsed against my dad. ------- Chapter 9 That was it. It was over. I was trying to cram my swollen foot back into my shoe so I could get on the court and my coach was conceding the match for me. My coach. My lover. The one person in the world I trusted more than anyone else. She had asked me and knew I wanted to go to Nationals. But she threw it all out anyway. I guess I didn't mean as much to her as I thought. How could she this to me? Look me straight in the eye and say That it's over now We pay our debt sometime Bree was leading my makeshift cheering section in a cheer of appreciation or something. My dad was saying something to me about pulling it together. Sam was repeating that he needed me to represent SCU and show great sportsmanship. And Lissa kept trying to touch me. I flinched away from her and mopped my eyes on Dad's shirt before I turned to face the crowd. I stepped out and winced as I put pressure on my ankle. Everyone cheered as I raised my hand and waved at them. I've heard of bittersweet moments. I wanted to hear them cheer. It pounded in my heart. How can you be down when so many people are showing love? But they were cheering for my effort, not my victory. "The thrill of victory. The agony of defeat." ABC's Wide World of Sports. I could see that skier dude crashing off the jump every weekend. I limped over to where Rob and his coach were talking to his own excited fans and held out my hand. He took it and smiled at me. "You okay, man?" Rob asked. "After the first serve I thought I was a goner. I hope you know it was an accident." I looked into his eyes and nodded my head. I could see that it had been an accident. We were both playing crazy aggressively and I ended up on the short end of the stick. It could just as easily have been him who got injured. "Congratulations, Rob. Good luck at The Ektelon." "You keep playing like that and I'll need all the good luck I can get." Well, that was a compliment, but it didn't make much sense. I figured he must be talking about next year. "Hey, if you get a chance, I'd love one of those sketches you do. They're like the most popular keepsake here at the competition. You should be selling them." "I'll try to knock one out during the final round tomorrow," I said. What a turn-around in opinions from this morning when the other guys seemed ready to crucify me for drawing pictures of them. "Just don't stop to pose on the court. It'll wreak havoc with your game." We bumped fists and I turned and headed toward the locker room. All I wanted now was a shower and bed where I could curl up in a ball and cry. I threw an arm around Dad as I walked for support. Damn! That ankle hurt a lot more than I thought now that the adrenalin was seeping out of my system. Lissa put an arm around me from the other side. I had a jolt of fury at her. I couldn't snub my coach in front of the stands. I had just enough sense left to keep good sportsmanship and my scholarship in mind, but I wouldn't look at her and didn't put my arm around her. She kept talking to me in a low voice, but I was turned toward my dad and wouldn't listen. Sam had gathered up my equipment and met us at the locker room door. Another player was standing next to the locker room door when we got there. Karl Higgendorfer, the guy I would have met in the finals. "Hey, Ames. Tough luck tonight. I was really looking forward to playing you in the finals. Next time, eh?" I shook his hand and wished him luck. Dad let go of me because the locker rooms are limited to competitors and coaches only. I made to escape into the refuge and was surprised to find Lissa walking right in with me. "You can't come in here," I said in surprise. "I have an injured athlete. I can go anywhere I need to." "I don't need you." That was harsh. It grated on my own ears. My voice caught and I couldn't get anything else out. I sure wasn't prepared for what came next. Lissa practically threw me against a locker, grabbed my head, and turned me toward her. I thought This is really stupid. She's going to try to kiss me after that? But kissing wasn't on her mind. "Tony! Look at me! Darling, listen!" "How can you 'darling' me? You just conceded my chances after you asked what I wanted." "Exactly. I got you what you wanted." "What?" "You said the most important thing was to get to National Singles. So would you rather win this match or go to The Ektelon?" "That doesn't make sense, Lissa. Sam said he'd send me if I was top tier. I can't afford to pay my own way." "That's what I was talking to Sam and the Director about. I wanted a witness when Sam said that he considered 'on the podium' to be top tier. You won third. You are on the podium." "So I got bronze. That isn't the final bracket." "Tony! Wake up. Sam agreed you are qualified and he'll pay your way. You're going to the Ektelon, Tony." No. I must have hit my head when I fell on the court. I was hearing things—making up a fantasy. Sam was specific about what he thought top tier was—first or second. But there was Lissa, in my face, telling me that I was going to National Singles. Lissa, who I trusted. Lissa, who loved me. I was such an ass. She did love me. She did what I asked. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to say it. I just looked at her with tears flowing down my cheeks. I was totally overwhelmed. Then she did kiss me. Boy, did she kiss me. Fortunately we heard the locker room door open before anyone saw us and when Rob and his coach entered the room, Lissa was helping me down on a bench. The coaches nodded to each other and then Sam came in with Dad. Sam got him a special pass so he could come in and help me. The trainer came in, too, and Lissa asked him to cut the tape off my ankle. Damn, that hurt! Usually if you're going to tape up like that, you shave the area first. Believe me; I wouldn't have to worry about shaving that area anytime soon. "You want your chest hair waxed, too?" the trainer joked. "No. Thanks. I think I'll keep both of them." Lissa left the locker room and Dad and Sam helped me get to the shower. No hot tub or steam tonight, even though that was what I wanted most. It would aggravate the swelling. As soon as I was mostly dressed, the trainer came back with elastic compression bandage and ice packs. Sam and Dad were talking about various things and I heard Dad mention that he was planning to bunk with me tonight. That brought my head up. I hadn't thought about what having Dad here tonight would mean to my love life. And that brought me to another issue. I was going to have to tell my parents about my unusual relationship. This wasn't a phase. Melody and I had spent all spring break with Lissa convincing her that we were in it for the long haul. I'd slept in Lissa's room last night and intended to tonight, too. But what was I going to tell my dad? I needed to talk to Lissa. I wasn't prepared for this. ------- It was almost nine when I got out of the locker room. Dad suggested we get something to eat and Sam said there was a good Mexican restaurant just off campus. We were going to walk, but Lissa suggested that she drive me over so I wouldn't hurt the ankle any worse. Some unspoken communication passed between Lissa and Sam and Sam turned to my dad. "Saul, why don't you and I escort Tony's cheerleaders over to the restaurant so they aren't accosted on the walk? We'll meet Tony and Lissa there." Dad glanced at me and I thought he tossed a quick look at Lissa, too. He nodded his head. "Tony probably needs coaching in private," Dad said with a chuckle. "Don't want him embarrassed at his celebration dinner." He and Sam headed out with Bree and Allison. I was relieved as I wrapped my arm around Lissa and headed for the car. ------- We just sat in the car with my phone on speaker as we quickly recapped the game with Melody, explaining that we were headed to dinner with my dad and Sam. That brought up the topic I really wanted to talk to them about. "Hey, my loves," I started, "I really need to ask you something. I had a real flash of anger after the match this evening because I thought Lissa had betrayed me. I'm sorry, Lissa. I should have known." "I wish I could have explained before the ref announced the decision," Lissa said. "I know hearing it like that shook you up." "Still, I'm in love with you. I shouldn't doubt that you care for me. Melody, that goes for you, too. I'm in love with you. I know that you are always on my side. So what I need to ask—and I'm sorry this is going to sound so dumb—but I need to know—are we really together now? I'm not asking for a life-long commitment or to find a state or country where the three of us can get married, but this is more than a fling, right?" "Honey, being away from you and Lissa tears me apart. I've been so lonely this weekend I can hardly stand it. As far as I'm concerned, I don't ever want to be without you. I know it's too early to figure out how it will work in the future, but I want to have a future with you. I love you both." "I think you both know how I feel," Lissa picked up from Melody. "After I saw you with my boys last weekend, the last of my resistance crumbled. I don't know the how's, but the what is real. I want us to be a family. We'll figure out a way to make it work." "Why'd you ask, Tony? Didn't you know what we'd say?" "I thought I knew," I answered Melody. "I just had to hear it explicitly from both of you. I want to tell my dad tonight." "Tony!" They started giggling as they realized how they had responded—exactly the same. "I know you might not be ready to do the same with your families," I continued. "We each have to approach it the way we think is best, and I know we have to be careful around school. But my folks have always supported me in everything I do and I've kept them too distant from what was happening in my life. My dad's here with us tonight and I know he's already picked up on Lissa and me. He might not know exactly how far it's gone, but he knows we're attracted to each other. I don't want to give him the wrong impression or mislead him. I want him to know that it's both of you. I want him to know I love you both." "Tony, if you think the time is right, I'm with you," Lissa said. "I was kind of hoping you'd sleep in my room tonight and then figured there was no chance with your dad sharing your room." "I only wish I could be there with you two when you tell him, Tony. If you want to introduce me over the phone, I'll be up." She paused. "Amy, Sandra, and Kate know. I told them without even asking you guys. It's really too exciting to me to keep a secret forever." ------- "Dad, I'd like to tell you about my girlfriends," I said, leaning over the seat to look at him. He'd jumped in the back of the car to give me room to stretch my swollen ankle. Well, there it was. I'd started the conversation. Dinner had been nice and I was finally feeling like I'd come to grips with the outcome of the tournament. If I'd gone back in to play, I might have beaten Rob, but there was an equal chance that I'd have done serious—maybe even permanent—injury to my ankle. That would have put me out of competition and maybe out of my scholarship. Lissa and Sam figured it out. That's what coaches are for. So now that the three of us were in the car, I had to talk to Dad. "Both those little cuties at dinner tonight? Tony, I'm proud of you, but don't you think it would be nice to share with the other guys? You don't have to take all the best girls." He was making light of it. Well, that was a good sign. "Allison and Bree aren't my girlfriends, Dad." "I know, son. I was trying to make a joke. Why don't you tell me about you and Lissa." I think both of us snapped our heads around to look at Dad. "Sam said you had a unique relationship. I'm a little surprised that the school would allow that between a coach and athlete." "We came as a package deal. I was involved with Lissa before I got the offer from SCU and PCAD. We've been friends for months and lovers for weeks." "I understand, son. Lissa, I don't know too much of your background, but I could tell right away that you meant more to Tony than just being his coach." "Tony's very important to me, Mr. Ames," Lissa said. "Tony, your mom and I had a long, agonizing talk last fall. Remember when we dropped you off at school?" "Yes. I didn't think Mom was going to hold it together without crying in the parking lot. Um ... I didn't quite hold it together all the way to my room." "Well, you were scarcely out of sight before she broke down. But we took a couple extra days as we drove back to Nebraska—went down to Napa Valley and drank some wine. And we talked. A lot. We talked about the fact that you were truly a man now. We always want to be there for you when you need us, but you won't need us as much. We also decided that as much as we can, we will support your life decisions. As long as they are decent people, we wouldn't reject any friend or girlfriend you had. Lissa, we might not understand why a woman who is a little older and probably more experienced than our son is so interested in him, but you showed tonight that you have his best interests at heart. Deborah and I will welcome you into our lives as long as you and Tony are together." Lissa was crying. She kept wiping tears out of her eyes so she could see the road. I squeezed her thigh with my left hand and realized that my dad reached forward and had a hand on each of our shoulders. "Thank you, Mr. Ames. Just from knowing Tony, I knew I'd love you and your wife, too." "Please. Call me Saul and my wife is Deborah. We're all adults here. Speaking of which, I should call her and introduce you." "Um ... Dad ... There's more." "Oh?" "I said girlfriends, remember?" "Oh dear. This is complicated." "I guess so. Before you call Mom, I'd like to call Melody and introduce her to you, too. We're not exactly a couple. We're a trio." "Ah. A ménage à trois. You are all involved with each other?" "I love Melody every bit as much as I love Tony," Lissa said as she pulled into a parking spot at the hotel. "I never thought about using the French word. It's always used with such temporary connotations." I dialed Melody and put her on speaker phone. "Tony! I love you!" came clear across the connection. "Guess what, sweetie. We just found out there's a word for us. Ménage à trois." "French. What does it mean?" "Literally, 'household of three, '" my dad answered automatically. Melody gasped. "Tony, is that... ?" "My dad," I completed. "Lissa is here, too." "Hi, Darling. We miss you." "Hi Lissa. Uh ... Mr. Ames, I guess that means Tony told you about us." Melody sounded so far away over the phone. I wished she was in the car with us. "Yes. I'm happy to meet you, Melody. I wish we were all in one place so I could see you together." "Oh believe me, I wish I was there, too. Are you all right with us, Mr. Ames?" "I just told Lissa to call me Saul. We're all adults here. As to being all right with you, I love my son and part of that is to love who he loves—even sight unseen." "You sound just as wonderful as Tony, Mr ... uh ... Saul." "Okay, stay on the line while I get Deborah on my phone." "Wait, Dad. I've got three-way dialing." "I'm sure that comes in handy." We all laughed. I put Melody on hold and connected with Mom. "Congratulations, Tony," Mom said. "Dad told me you qualified for National Singles. We're going to come to see you." "That's great, Mom. Hey, I called because I just introduced Dad to my girlfriends and I wanted to introduce you, too." "Girlfriend? I didn't know you had one." "Uh ... two, Mom." "Oh. How exciting. Saul?" You could hear the panic in her voice when she spoke Dad's name. "Hang in there, Pumpkin. They're nice girls," Dad assured her. "Mom, Melody is on the line with us. She's back at school." "Hi, Mrs. Ames. It's nice to meet you." I could hear my mom take a deep breath. "I'm sure Saul already gave you the lecture. Please call me Deborah. It's nice to meet you, Melody." "And this is Lissa." "Hi, Deborah. I'm so glad we get to meet you and Saul." "Lissa? Tony's coach?" "Yes. We were together before she became my coach. She didn't exercise any undue influence over me." "In fact," Lissa said, "Tony is going to be acting as my coach as well. He's already helped my game. But that's just one part of our relationship." "Are you classmates?" "Not exactly, Mom. Melody's a classmate. Lissa is..." I wasn't sure how to phrase it. "I'm a few years older," Lissa supplied. "Just enough to add some stability to these two wild ones." "Hey!" both Melody and I exclaimed before we all broke out in giggles. "Who adds stability to the wild ones?" Melody asked through her laughter. I thought of Lissa's boys, but decided that overwhelming my parents a little at a time was better than all at once. "It's a shared responsibility," I said. "Well, I hope all three of you plan to spend some time here in Nebraska this summer. I want to make sure my boy hasn't bitten off more than he can chew." "Mom!" ------- We talked for about ten more minutes and Dad told Mom he'd call her back in a little while. We went up to the hotel rooms and I opened my room door and then handed the key to Dad. "I suppose you'll be spending the night ... elsewhere?" he said. "Yeah. We're right next door." "Well, it looks like a comfy room. I expect I'll be on the phone with your mother for quite a while. Breakfast?" "Not too early, though," I said. "It's been a long day. I want to watch the finals at noon, so let's meet at ten." I started to leave when I thought about the fact that Bree and/or Allison probably still had my other room key. "Uh ... Dad? Just for safety's sake, I'd suggest you put the security chain on the door. Strange things happen around here at night." I left before he could question me any further. ------- "It was so cool, Tony! I can't wait to tell my mom and dad. But I'd be too scared if you weren't both right beside me when I do. They're ... um ... unpredictable. They never want me to grow up and Dad's kind of conservative. Just thinking about it makes my heart beat so fast I think I'm going to pass out." Melody's voice came through the speaker phone on the bed beside me. I'd had to plug it in because we'd used so much juice. Lissa was putting a fresh ice pack on my ankle and I gasped. "What are you two doing?" Melody asked suspiciously. "Just getting ready for bed, Darling," Lissa said calmly. "What was that gasp?" "Lissa just put an ice pack on my ankle. It's cold." "Yeah? Are you two naked?" "Well, I kind of am," I said. I had a robe on when I lay down on the bed and it seemed like everything Lissa did as she was working on my ankle caused the robe to fall open a little more. "I think Lissa is trying to sneak peeks at me." I surprised myself when I realized that I wasn't self-conscious about Lissa or Melody seeing me when I wasn't aroused. I was no longer embarrassed about my lack of endowment. "What about Lissa?" "She just got out of the shower and is wrapped in a towel. It's pretty short, though. Every time she bends over, I see a little bit of paradise." "Mmmm. Pull it off of her." "Hey!" Lissa exclaimed as I caught hold of the towel and it came loose from her. She laughed. "You win. We're naked." "Lissa, is Tony hard yet?" "No. He's got the cutest little prick, but ... oh my." "Are you touching him?" "No. I'm just standing here watching. It's growing. It's like when your little clit comes out of its hood and gets big when I suck it. Only Tony's is getting a lot bigger than that." "What's she doing, Tony?" "Just standing here, like she said. But Melody, do you know how beautiful she is? I can't help myself when I look at her." "Tell me." "She's all scrubbed, right out of the shower. Her skin is practically glowing. She used one of those loofa things. Her skin looks so soft I just want to touch it. But I can't reach her from where I'm lying. She's staring at me and I'm getting hard just looking at her. She's breathing a little harder and those unbelievable breasts are rising and falling. Don't you wish you could just lick one of her hard little nipples?" "I do. Are you hard, Tony?" "Yeah." "I'm so wet. My clit's throbbing, but I don't want to touch it yet. Lissa?" "Yes, Sweetheart." "Are you turned on?" "Oh yes. My nipples are so hard and sensitive they almost hurt. I wish you were here to lick them while I ride Tony. I'm so wet, just watching him get hard." "I'm going to dip my fingers in my pussy and taste them, Lissa. Will you do that with me?" "Oh yes." I watched as Lissa stepped nearer to the bed and dipped her fingers into her wet opening. Then she slowly licked one of the fingers with her eyes closed, savoring it. When she was finished, she pressed the other finger against my lips and I opened to suck her in and clean the juices off her hand. "Do I taste like you do, Lissa?" Melody's husky voice came through the phone. "No, sweetheart. I taste like canned tuna." "No you don't!" Melody and I both exclaimed. Lissa ignored us. "You, my love, taste like fresh-baked oatmeal cookies. I just want to eat you with a big glass of milk," Lissa said. Melody whined at the other end of the line. "Tony, don't you want to make love to Lissa?" "Oh yes. Melody, she gave me a taste of her nectar and it doesn't taste at all like tuna. But her pussy lips are just glistening with moisture and I can't wait to touch her with my cock. Are you ready for my cock, too, Melody?" "I'm just dripping, darling. I want to slide down on you and hold Lissa while she rides your face. I'm so horny for you both." "I can't wait anymore, little one," Lissa breathed. "I have to get into bed with Tony." "Oh, poor Tony," Melody giggled. "I'll bet he has to just lie there on his back so he doesn't reinjure himself, doesn't he?" "That's right," Lissa said. She put a hand on my chest and pushed me back down on my back. She let her fingers trail south along my torso until they just grazed my cock. I moaned. "Oh, he must be in a lot of pain. Isn't there anything you can do for him, Lissa?" "He seems to be losing some precious bodily fluids—all from his cock. It's all shiny with juice leaking out of the little slit." "We taste-tested our pussies, baby. It seems only fair that we should compare it with a taste of Tony. Tell me what it tastes like, Lissa." Lissa went down on my cock, first just licking up my precum and then sliding her lips along the entire length. "Mmmm. Yummy. Boy juice is a little saltier than girl juice. We could have it for a cocktail snack." "Lissa, I can't wait anymore. You have to put him inside." "That's just what I was thinking, love." Lissa straddled my thighs and began moving toward me. "It's so amazing to watch Lissa come toward me on her hands and knees, crawling up the bed," I said. "Remember when Doc Henredden described her as a tigress? I feel like I'm going to be her next meal. She's dangerous and so exciting I'm shaking." "Are you in her, Tony?" "Just the head of my cock is pressed into her sweet folds. Her pussy has turned all pink and is open. So hot and wet. I can see her little bud just above where my cock is slipping into her. She's going so slowly." "What do you see, Lissa?" "I see my beautiful lover's face. I see his hands caressing my sides... , my breasts... , my tummy. Oh! Oh, and my clit. When I look at where we're joined, I see myself splitting to either side as his shaft opens me further and further. Oh, Melody, I wish you could share my pussy so we could both feel our lover entering us at the same time. I want to feel him enter you like he's moving into me." "Oh my love! How can you take it so slow. It's agonizing," Melody's voice was broken as she sobbed over the phone. "Mel, Lissa has her eyes closed and is biting her lower lip. You know how she bites just one corner?" It was the exact same expression Lissa had on her face the first time she invited Melody and me to make love to her on the daybed setting for my painting. "I love that expression on her face. She looks so innocent and so naughty at the same time. I don't think I can take much more. Tony, I wish I could share your cock so I could feel myself being buried in Lissa's pussy. I want to feel the pulses of cum rocketing out of me like you do." "I'm touching Lissa's thighs, Mel. She's so strong. She's holding all her weight and not letting herself go all the way down. She's so beautiful, Melody." "I want to kiss you, Lissa—feel your tongue on my lips and my tongue. I want to hold your magnificent breasts against mine and feel this is what it is to love a woman. And this is how we love our man." I could hear Melody gasping for breath over the phone and imagined her touching herself, listening to Lissa and me. "Oh lovers! I'm holding so still, but I don't think I can hold back any longer," I whispered. "Lissa is all the way down on me and I feel her pussy pulsing. Can you come with us, Melody darling?" The only answer I got was a scream over the phone beside my head and a gasping, "I love you I love you I love you." I couldn't make sense of much more because my hips were up off the bed as I tried to get as much of my body as possible inside Lissa. My thumb vibrated quickly against her clit with the flat of my palm pressing against her tummy above where we were joined, my left hand wrapped around her butt pulling her toward me. She started with a whine—her lips tightly pressed together—but as they opened, an unintelligible siren was raised in one long wail as I roared my orgasm into my lovers. My lovers. Not just one, but both of them. Even though she was a thousand miles away, Melody was only a heartbeat from where Lissa and I were joined together. ------- I received a bronze medal at the awards ceremony Saturday afternoon and an official invitation to The Ektelon National Singles Competition. I had four weeks to heal, train, and pass all my classes. There was a lot to do. I had final projects in three classes, exams in two. I would have my portfolio review to determine my overall progress for the year. I'd be working out every day. Sam and Lissa had already worked out a rehab schedule for my ankle. Not only did I have to recover, but I needed to maintain my strength and flexibility during the time I couldn't be on the court. The week of finals, I'd be gone to Nationals, so I had to cram four weeks of work into three at school and take my exams the week before. It made me tired just to think about it. Dad, Sam, and my little cheer squad stayed with me through the day and applauded loudly when I got my medal. Allison was on her way to the airport before I got a chance to thank her, but Bree said she had all of the contact information I would ever need. Sam, Bree, Lissa, and I all boarded the same flight home. I was going to curl up with Lissa and kiss all the way back, but Sam asked if I'd trade seats so they could have a coach's conference. I ended up sitting with Bree. I braced for the interrogation. "So what's with you and the Ice Queen?" Bree abruptly asked once the plane was off the ground. "Huh?" "Didn't you know that's her nickname on the circuit? Allison said she is absolutely cold to everyone. She never attends a party or social event, doesn't accept any dates or invitations, and never says more than a half-dozen words to any competitor. But with you, she's on fire. Anybody can see how she changes when you're in the room. She went to dinner with us last night and was laughing and joking with our fathers. But she wasn't flirting with them. She was flirting with you." "Lissa didn't flirt with me at dinner." "I don't think either of you were aware of it. You're so natural together. You ate part of her burrito, for god's sake." "I was hungry and she had more than she could eat." "I was sitting on the other side of you with more than half the food on my plate untouched. You didn't try to eat any of it." "I've known Lissa a lot longer." "And a lot better, I think. You said you had a girlfriend back at school." "That's right. See?" "So what's she think of you and Lissa? Or do you keep it from her better than from everyone else?" "We're not keeping anything from anybody," I lied unconvincingly. "You forget that Friday night you had two naked girls making out on your bed like mad and you left to go sleep with your coach," Bree said. "How'd that go, by the way?" I asked. Maybe changing the subject would help. "We got along fine, but if you've got visions of hot girl-on-girl action, forget it. I think she'd have gone along with it if I'd pushed and you were there, but the fire kind of died out when you left the room." "Is that why you decided to go through my things and steal my drawings?" "No. I'm really sorry about that. We didn't think it would do any harm. Allison saw that you'd left your sketchbook and started telling me about the drawings you were doing. When she showed me the sketch you did of her, I was so jealous I almost bit her. But then I saw that it wasn't just her. You made everyone you drew look good. That's why we posted the pictures." "Well, no real harm done, I guess. I just like to draw." "I'll bet you've drawn Lissa, too, haven't you." If only she knew! "Tony, I'm not blind and I won't betray your secrets unless you are being a real jerk to someone I care about. I just want to know how it works—and if I stand a chance of being included." "Bree, we've only known each other for like five days. In that time, you held onto my arm like you were afraid I'd vanish, you showed up at my competition a thousand miles away, you got naked in my hotel room, and..." " ... and I washed your smelly jock strap." All right. It was pretty ridiculous and we both started laughing so hard a flight attendant stopped to offer us a soft drink so we'd quiet down. "I think we'll be friends, Bree. But don't push anything else. You don't know how complicated life is for me and how moody I can get. Just understand that, even though I'm not ready to share everything about me with you, I'm not trying to hide things from anyone and I'm not going to be a jerk to someone you care about. If I'm lucky, I'm not going to be a jerk to anybody—whether you care about them or not." "Okay. But I tell you what. I'm going to have a party in a couple of weeks and I want you to bring all your girlfriends with you." "Hmmm??" "The whole posse. I'll sort out who's who on my own." "You're incorrigible." "I hope that means irresistibly sweet and sexy." ------- Lissa and I stepped out through the secure gate area to find our own little welcome home dance in progress. It consisted mostly—okay, entirely—of Melody bouncing up and down and squealing as she ran from one of us to the other and back. Finally we were all three wrapped in a hug that was undoubtedly the focal point of the whole concourse. At least it was the focal point of the little redhead who was following behind us. "Aren't you glad to be home, too, Brianna?" I heard Sam's voice and chuckle behind me. We all turned to see Bree just stopped behind us with her mouth hanging open. "I'll just pick up my bag," Sam continued, excusing himself. "Bree, you remember my girlfriend, Melody, don't you?" I introduced casually. Bree's eyes shifted uncomfortably from Melody to Lissa and back. "Oooo. I remember," Melody squealed. "You're the really friendly cheerleader from SCU. Welcome home!" Melody swept a surprised Bree into a hug and turned so she was facing me and I could hear her when she spoke softly in Bree's ear. "You and I have to talk, girlfriend. There are rules around here." "I don't know what you're talking about," Bree bluffed. "I just went down with my dad to watch the competition." Melody flipped out her cell phone, held it close between the two of them and showed the phone to Bree. The redheaded cheerleader gasped and looked up at me. Her face was about the same color as her hair. "We'll talk later this week, 'kay?" Melody concluded. Bree nodded her head and squeaked a barely audible, "Please?" It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what had just happened. Melody must have shown her the picture I sent on Friday night of Bree and Allison making out naked on my bed. "It's all right, honey," Melody soothed. "Let's just delete it together, right now. I just wanted you to know that Tony and I don't keep anything from each other." She tapped her screen and I saw Bree heave a sigh of relief. Melody quickly held her phone out at arm's length and snapped a new picture of the two of them. "Look!" Melody showed me. "Don't we look like besties already?" "Come on, Brianna. Let's go," Sam said, returning with a duffle from baggage claim. Bree turned to go with her dad but then turned back to face us, smiling. "Don't forget to tell everyone about the party in two weeks," she said. "See you!" "You are an evil genius," I laughed at Melody when Bree and Sam had gone. "Oh you should have seen her face when you showed her the picture," Lissa added. "Yeah. It's probably going to strike her—right about now—that if I had the picture, you must have taken it and it's still on your cell phone. And then she'll figure out—about now—that Lissa probably has it on her phone, too." "If I promise to have you guys back for class Monday morning, can I steal you for the rest of the weekend?" Lissa asked. "I was so turned on last night during our telephone game..." "My overnight is in the car," Melody said. "You'd have to throw me out on the freeway to keep me away." ------- It was a calm Monday. Surprisingly, I had no difficulty staying awake for Dr. Bychkova's lecture and slide show. I got my paper back, too, and I didn't do badly on it. If I needed to, I could skip the last one now and still be okay. Instead of my racquetball workout Monday afternoon, Lissa took me over to SCU to the sports therapy room. I was introduced to a couple of student trainers and Sam came in to talk about rapid rehabilitation and getting me back on my feet. They put me in hydrotherapy for 20 minutes and then dumped me into an ice bath for another 20. While I was still shivering, I was wrapped in a thermal blanket and the guy mauled my back with what felt like a sledge hammer for half an hour. Yeah, it was just his hands, but he was really strong. I came out of an hour and a half in the team room feeling better, but exhausted. Lissa came to the dorm with Melody and me after supper and we all snuggled into the big bed in my room together. I think Melody and Lissa may have fooled around a while, but I was so drained after my therapy that I drifted off to sleep. How sad is that? Two gorgeous naked babes who I love with all my heart fool around with each other next to me and I go to sleep! Sick, man. In the morning, Lissa kissed us and headed for work after making me promise to go back to the sports therapy room in the afternoon. I'd be going there every afternoon this week—a fact I noted in my Daytimer. Melody and I had been sitting in Fundamentals for a little over half an hour Tuesday morning, trying to decide what we were doing for a final project, when I saw the secretary from Dean Peterson's office come into the classroom. She handed something to Doc and after looking at it he said, "Melody Anderson, you are needed in the Dean's office. Please go with Miss Stevenson." Melody looked at me with questions all over her face, but I had no idea what was going on. Class continued, but I was pretty distracted thinking about why Melody would be called to the Dean's office. She was a better student than me, so maybe they were offering her some double degree opportunity, too. It was about 45 minutes later that Miss Stevenson came rushing in again. She went straight up to Doc and after a moment he looked up at the class and said, "Class dismissed. I'll see you Thursday. Tony Ames, come with me." I jammed my books into my bag and barely caught up with Doc half way down the hall. I was having difficulty keeping up with my gimp ankle, but I managed to keep him in sight as I limped along. He stormed out the front doors and across the street to the administration building. Oh my god! The mural. That's all I could think. Could it have been damaged? Were there vandals? As we entered the building we could hear heated voices arguing in the hallway. When we were close enough, the first thing I heard that I could make out was Melody screaming, "I will not!" We rushed into the hall to see Dean Peterson and two security guards with Melody and a woman who could only be her mother. "If you ever want to see another cent of my money going into tuition and donations for this college, that pornographic monstrosity will be painted over right now. Give me a brush and I'll do it myself." "What?" Doc bellowed as we came down the hall. He looked like a bull charging a red cape as he descended on Melody's mother. "How dare you talk about a work of art like that? The Vandals had more respect for Rome than what you suggest. This is a work of beauty and I will stand guard here around the clock to protect it if I must." "You!" she met Doc's charge head-on. This was a formidable woman. "You painted a naked picture of my daughter. You've made her a lust-object in front of the entire school. What kind of man treats children like this? You should go to jail. How did you get her to model for this? Did you offer her a better grade? I've heard of men like you. Predators, all of you!" "Mother! I'm nineteen. I signed a model release and I'm proud to be in this work of art." "You are a child. I didn't want you to come all the way out here in the first place. You should have stayed home where we could keep an eye on you. You don't know anything about life and what you are doing." "Madam, you are insulting a young woman and a student of this college," Dean Peterson broke in. "In this state and in all the rest of the United States of America, a person who has reached the age of 18 is legally an adult, capable of making her own decisions and of executing contracts. And I guarantee you that, if you withdraw your support for your daughter at this institution, I will personally find scholarship funding for her to continue her studies here." "What kind of school is this? Parents send their children to a small school so that they will be protected, not exposed to abuse and exploitation. I'll sue the entire institution and bring the authorities in to force the removal of this painting." I'd just decided a few days ago that I had to take control of my life, hadn't I? What does a guy do when his girlfriend is being threatened by her mother? I was angry, but anger was all I could see in this hallway. This could be really bad. I had to change the game plan. I had to do something that would stop this nonsense before irreparable damage was done, either to the mural or to Melody—or even to her mother. I took a step forward and placed myself between Mrs. Anderson and Melody. "Mrs. Anderson, may I speak with you for a moment?" I asked softly. "And who are you?" "I'm the artist who painted this picture." I could see her eyes bulge and I was afraid she might literally explode. "You exposed my daughter to a student? A boy her own age?" "Melody and I worked out the details together. No one else in this room can actually even identify that it is her in the painting. I'd just like to talk with you for a minute." "I'm sure I have nothing to say to you." "That may be true, ma'am. But if we start out this way and can't try to understand each other, it's going to make the next 50 years really difficult on all of us." I have to give the woman credit. She stayed on her feet for almost 10 seconds. ------- Chapter 10 I caught Mrs. Anderson on her way to the floor and settled her gently. I didn't attempt to revive her. I figured everybody could use the peace and quiet for a minute. I turned her over to Miss Stevenson and while she and one of the security guards tended to Mrs. Anderson, I took the opportunity to wrap Melody in my arms and surreptitiously text Lissa. "Dealing w/ Mel's Mom. Not good. Available for lunch?" I got a message back almost immediately. "Ready in 20 min. Say where." I comforted Melody and whispered to her. "Do you love me, Melody?" She nodded into my shoulder. "Will you let me help?" Another nod. "Think of a place to have lunch with your mom and text it to Lissa. Can you do that? That's all you have to think about. Don't let anything else upset you. We love you and we will never let anything bad happen to you." She reached up and gave me a quick kiss then turned her back on the action while she got out her phone. Miss Stevenson was giving Mrs. Anderson a sip of water out of one of Doc's ever-present water bottles. I decided that if I was ever going to take control of the game, this was the time. My lover needed me, but she needed her mother, too. I knelt beside Mrs. Anderson and quietly took over from Miss Stevenson. I helped her to her feet. "I'm sorry this has been so hard on you," I said. "Melody loves you so much; she'd never intentionally do anything to upset you and I guess I stumbled into it with both feet. I hope you'll be able to forgive me." I turned Mrs. Anderson to face Melody. Mel's back was still to us and she was talking on the phone. "Look at her, Mrs. Anderson. You must be so proud to have a daughter like Melody. She's beautiful, kind, smart. She's everything that I love. And I understand why you are upset about the painting." I turned her toward the wall to look at what I'd painted. Every time I looked at it I nearly cried. There was just something about it. But I knew what I had to say. "There just is no way that I could capture that beauty and kindness with my brush. I really tried. I poured all the love in my heart into that painting, but just looking at her standing there and then looking at the painting, I can see how far short I fell. I'm so sorry I couldn't do better." Melody's mother was silent, maybe for the first time since she arrived at the college today. I think that for the first time she actually looked at the painting and she began to see what I was seeing. "It's just so ... intimate," she whispered. "It's so hard to see my daughter grow up and not be my little girl anymore. I never wanted to think of her in ... that kind of way. I just want to protect her. She is so precious to me." "We're artists, Mrs. Anderson. That doesn't mean we're libertines. It doesn't mean we don't love. When I caught Melody and Lissa in that pose, I knew what it meant to be in love." "You caught them? You mean you didn't put them like that?" "No. We'd just finished making love and I turned and they were there, just like that. It was so beautiful I sketched it right there." "You were... ? Here?" "Oh no! Haven't you ever had an experience that was so intense and beautiful that every time you closed your eyes you could see it again? I painted this from memory." I heard a quick intake of breath behind me and had the impression it was Doc. He was the only person that wasn't in my line of sight. "And my little girl was ... with a ... woman?" "We are with her and she is with us. You want to meet her, don't you? She's having lunch with us." "She's very pretty." "Oh, more than that. She loves Melody like you wouldn't believe. Every time I see them kiss my heart nearly bursts. It just overflows with love and passion." "Are you a poet, Mr... ? I'm afraid I don't even know your name." "I'm Tony Ames and I'm not a poet. I'm just in love with your daughter, Mrs. Anderson." "And this other woman?" "And with Lissa. My dad calls it a ménage à trois. Are you familiar with the term? It means a household of three." "Your parents know about this?" "We introduced them this past weekend. Melody has been so excited about introducing us to you, but a little frightened about how you'd respond. I'm sorry I spoiled it with this awful painting." "It's not ... not really awful. You are obviously very talented. But it's ... it's ... I can't bear to see my daughter in such an intimate setting." "Parents are never supposed to see their children like this, are they? I think it's a shame. It's not there to titillate or make people uncomfortable, but what parent wouldn't want to know how happy and peaceful her daughter was. We should be able to share that with our parents, don't you think." "I suppose ... I ... that makes some sense. You are a very well-spoken young man." "I can only speak from my heart. My father told me this weekend that when I left for college he and Mom vowed that they would love who I loved and respect the decisions I make in my life. I think that works in every direction, don't you? I love Melody and I vow to love who she loves, and that includes you. There's never really just two people in a relationship, even if they are a couple instead of a ménage à trois. There is always your family, the family of your partner, your children, your parents and siblings. It seems that when we fall in love, we isolate ourselves when we should be reaching out to embrace the loves of our loves. Lissa and I love Melody with all our hearts, and we want to love you, too." I'd tried to keep my voice calm and low-key while I talked to Mrs. Anderson, but I wasn't going to mislead her. Talking to my mom and dad this weekend had helped me to see how deep our family ties go. I gradually understood that my depression was causing me to raise barriers between my parents and me when I should have been building bridges. I was determined to start off as right as I could with Melody's family and Lissa's, too. "Perhaps we should go to lunch and meet the rest of the family," Mrs. Anderson said softly. "Tony. Will you help me talk to Melody?" I nodded. "Sweetheart," I said. Melody turned around and looked at me with my arm around her mother. I smiled at her. That was all it took. Melody rushed to us and wrapped her arms around both her mother and me and hugged us fiercely. "Your mom wants to meet Lissa. Where are we going for lunch?" ------- I watched Melody and her mom as I hobbled down the street behind them. Lissa and Melody had chosen well. It was still early for lunch at Becky's Café, so there wouldn't be a crowd, and it was just far enough off-campus that there wouldn't be many kids there during class break. The food was light and genteel—not too expensive, but not fast-food, either. Mrs. Anderson had shrunk away from her rage and as soon as she apologized to the Dean, Doc, and Melody, Melody wrapped her in a hug that showed me there was genuine affection between the two. I was afraid for a while that it wasn't going to happen. I couldn't fathom what had really set her off. She just didn't seem like the kind of person to fly off the handle like that, but once she did there was no way to back down. I wondered how I figured out how to defuse the situation and whether it would last when we added Lissa to the mix. Mother and child is a more explosive relationship than any other, in my book. Maybe Lissa would have insights that would help us out. I didn't remember the battles between my mother and me. Dad told me about them the summer after I graduated from high school. It seemed that when I was around three or four I went through a phase where I'd blow up at anything. Mom was at the end of her patience and between the two of us, we could go from "I love you" to a nuclear explosion in two sentences. Dad said he was worried that we'd build up long-term resentment for each other and that he had to intervene. But he didn't join our confrontations. As soon as he heard the explosion, he would sweep in on me from wherever he was in the house and get down on the floor at my level and hug me. He'd just keep saying, "I love you, son," over and over until I calmed down. Then he'd turn and do the same thing with Mom. He never criticized us or joined the argument. He never took sides. He just put a different feeling in between us. Mom would wrap me up and say "I love you," and we'd all calm down. It wasn't long that as soon as I blew up, Mom wouldn't wait for Dad. She'd just wrap me in her arms and say "I love you." I guess it worked. I've always felt secure with both Mom and Dad and as I learned to express my feelings better the blow-ups lessened and eventually just stopped altogether. Dad told me the whole story the night after I announced my decision to go to PCAD. I knew Mom didn't want me to leave the state, but I was just as bull-headed as ever. Before we had a chance to really discuss it, though, Dad pulled us both into a hug and said, "I love you." Then we all knew it would be okay. ------- Mrs. Anderson stopped short as she entered the restaurant, looking straight ahead at Lissa. She was frozen in place. I heard her whisper under her breath, "Oh my god. The painting. I thought she..." Lissa looked up from the menu to see us coming in and the smile that she gave us lit up the entire room. Melody rushed to her and gave her a kiss on the lips. It wasn't an erotic, tongue-filled, passionate kiss, but it lingered long enough to make it clear that this was a kiss between lovers, not just a couple of friends meeting for lunch. "No one can be that beautiful," Melody's mom whispered. I didn't wait to correct her, but stepped up to collect my own welcoming kiss. "Mom, this is my girlfriend, Lissa and my boyfriend Tony. Tony, Lissa, this is ... Mom," Melody officially introduced us. Lissa stood and held out her hand. "It's so nice to meet you, Mrs. Anderson." I swear there were tears in both their eyes when Mrs. Anderson took the offered hand and then pulled Lissa in for a hug. "Please. I'm afraid I've got off on a bad foot. Call me Alexandra." I saw Melody raise an eyebrow at her mom, but she didn't say anything. Alexandra faltered and then turned to embrace me as well. "What am I saying? No one calls me Alexandra. I'm just so new at this. It's ... it's ... overwhelming. I'm Lexi. I expect you to use the same name my friends do." We sat and Lexi just stared at the three of us. A waitress brought the rest of us menus and we made a production out of looking at them. Lissa recommended a dish and Lexi thankfully put down her menu and said, "That would be lovely." The waitress took our orders and we had an awkward pause in which no one knew what to say. "Mom, I'm sorry this all came as such a surprise to you. I've been trying to figure out when I could tell you and Dad. We wanted to all be together and not do it over the phone. I know it has to be a shock, but you know me; I never do anything the easy way." "Oh Melly, honey. I'm sorry I reacted so poorly. I flew out here to see you. You said there was a painting and I thought I would surprise you and spend a few days while I was ... and then the picture ... and the boyfriend ... and the girlfriend ... and your father..." "Mom, what?" "Harold's left us, Melly." "What?" Melody's face was filled with disbelief. "No. I promised myself I wouldn't do that. It's just so hard. He hasn't left us, Melly. He's left me. Your father still loves you dearly. Don't ever doubt that. You are his pride and joy. He never wanted to hurt you—or me either, for that matter. But you know your father. We've been slipping away from each other for a long time. This year, without you to hold us together, we just stopped trying. I'm sorry for the way I behaved this morning, for surprising you, for being so awful to your friends. My emotions ... it's like going through menopause all over again. I went out of control. Please forgive me baby." Melody was stunned and tears were tracking down her cheeks. Lissa was closest and pulled her into an embrace as I raced around the table to catch her on the other side. I saw Melody reach out with her hand and understood instinctively what she wanted. I moved slightly so that I could encircle Lexi, too, and Melody caught her hand. The three of us were so happy together that watching Melody and her mother suffering was unbearable. Sure, Lexi could say what she wanted about the marriage slipping away over time, but to actually let go of it must be terrible. It sure got me thinking; would Lissa and Melody and I face the same thing one day? Would one of us slip away, or would the others turn their backs on one? It was heavier than I could bear to think about and my own tears were near when the waitress set down our food and then hurried back with fresh glasses of water and napkins for all of us. Lunch was subdued. We all dried our eyes and ate in relative silence, skirting the issue of the parents' separation. Lexi asked about school and asked Lissa about her job. It seemed she knew some people in the fashion industry in New York and there was a common thread for them to talk about while we all let the news soak in and began erecting protective barriers around the wounded hearts. After lunch, Lexi said, "I had better go back to the Dean's office and apologize and collect my bags. I just left them there when I was out of control." "Dean Peterson is exceptionally understanding," I said. "I know from personal experience. We'll all go together." "Where are you staying?" Lissa asked. "I thought I would just check into that little hotel near the campus, but perhaps I should just go back to the airport. It was silly of me to intrude like this." "Nonsense. Please come to stay with us," Lissa blurted out. Then she clapped a hand over her mouth and looked at Melody with a terrified expression on her face. It wasn't about the invitation, I was sure of that. It took me a second to figure out what had panicked her. I looked at Melody over her mother's head and mouthed, "The kids!" Melody understood and took matters into her own hands. "Mom, we'd love for you to stay with us. We haven't sorted out all the living arrangements yet, but Lissa has a spare bedroom in her lovely home. There's just a couple of things you'll need to understand before you go there with us." "I assume you are all sleeping together," Lexi sighed. "If you are truly a ménage à trois, then of course you sleep together. Frankly, if I were 25 years younger I'd have my hands all over your partners, dear." That got a little chuckle from all of us, but Melody wasn't finished yet. "You'd have to stand in line," she laughed. "But there is one other little thing you should know about. The children." Lexi's breath caught and I thought for a bit that I'd have to pick her up off the floor again, but she recovered quickly. "You mean I'm a grandmother?" she exclaimed. "Well, there's no biological connection. If you're insisting on that, you'll have to wait a long time, I'm afraid. But Lissa's got two little boys who we all adore and I'm sure they'd love to have someone other than Tony read stories to them tonight. His rendition of Red Fish, Blue Fishis getting a little old. Are you ready for that?" "Melly, life is a whole series of things we aren't ready for. I want to be a part of your life. Tony said his father told him something this weekend. Tell me if I don't get it right, Tony. 'I will love who you love and respect the decisions you make in your life.' But I'll always be here when you need me." She looked at me for confirmation. I nodded. "I left off that last part," I said, "but my dad said that, too. We need family and friends. I discovered that the hard way this year. Let's go get your bags and go home." ------- "I know you wanted to be face-to-face, Mel, but I think you should call your father. Don't let the injury fester, and don't let him find out about us from someone else—even your mother," I said when we got to Lissa's house. The boys were still out with Molly, so we had a little time to get Lexi settled before the tornadoes arrived. She decided to lie down for half an hour while she could. That's when I made the suggestion to Melody. "I don't know if I can. What do I say?" "Do you love your dad, sweetheart?" Lissa asked. Melody nodded. "We've always been so close. He paints a little, too, and wanted me to go to art school. I just can't believe..." "So tell him that you love him. Everything else will follow." We all sat on the big bed and Melody called her father. As soon as he picked up, Melody launched in before he could say anything. "Daddy, I love you." We couldn't hear his side of the conversation. Lissa and I were content to just be with Melody and support her. "She's here with us ... Daddy, is this as hard on you as it is on her? ... Yeah, I thought so. Is it really 25 years? ... I just wanted to tell you I love you and that I understand. Well, I don't understand—not completely. But I know you and Mom are adults and that not everything is clear to kids, no matter how old I am." I scooted around behind Melody and let her lean back against me as she talked. Lissa curled up beside her and just petted her hand. "Daddy, I know there is a lot going on and there never seems to be a right time for anything. But I've got to introduce you to some very important people. I wanted to do this in person, but since Mom is here and has met them, I need to introduce you, too." She put the phone on speaker and held it out in front of her. I heard the shutter click and saw a picture of the three of us curled up on the bed on her cell phone. "I'm sending you a picture, Daddy. I want you to meet my boyfriend, Tony Ames." "Boyfriend? I'm so happy for you, baby. It's nice to meet you, Tony." "Thank you, Mr. Anderson. It's nice to meet you, too." "I have the picture. You are a nice-looking young man, Tony. Treat my daughter well. Who else is with you? There's another beautiful woman in this picture." "Daddy, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Lissa." "Hi, Mr. Anderson. Thank you for the compliment." "It is well-deserved. Any friend of my daughter is also a friend of mine." "No, Daddy. Lissa isn't just my friend. She's my girlfriend." There was a silence on the phone. "Then Tony is... ?" "Our boyfriend, Daddy." "Well. That is a bit much. Is your mother there? Put her on the phone, please." His voice had become crisper and decidedly less friendly. "She's taking a nap right now. It was a pretty emotional morning." "Is she ... okay? I mean with all of this?" "She's adapting. Will you, Daddy?" "Right now I want to rush right out there and protect you from ... from whatever it is. I'm not happy, Melody. You're too young." "We all know that we're young and that people change, Daddy. You and Mom have just shown us that. But we're together, in love, and happy. Doesn't that count for something?" "I'll withhold judgment. I worry about you, especially now ... Lissa and Tony, don't hurt my little girl, do you understand?" "We do," I said. "You need to come out for a visit soon." "I can arrange for you to stay in my house," Lissa continued. "Just give me a couple days' notice." We heard the front door open and Drew and Damon's voices as they ran down the hall. "Oh yeah," Melody laughed. "You have to meet your grandkids." "Melody!" "Relax, Dad. We aren't married ... yet. But you'll love the boys, believe me. I know you always wanted a boy instead of a frilly little girl," she teased. "Don't you ever think that! I knew I was going to have a daughter the moment I found out your mother was pregnant and I could never have been happier." His voice got softer and I could hear a little teasing slip in. "Still, a boy might have been easier right now." Maybe the guy wasn't as bad as I'd assumed. If he could withhold judgment, so could I. "Mommy, Meddy, Tony!" Drew and Damon screamed as they piled onto the bed with us. Melody snapped another arms-length photo with all of us crowded together in the picture. "Here's the whole family, Daddy. I need to go now so I can play. I love you!" "I love you, too, baby. I love you, too." ------- Dinner was Chinese carry-out and a bottle of white wine. The boys were scrubbed and "Meddy's Mommy" read Fox in Sox to them. There's something strangely unifying about Dr. Seuss. We were all from different parts of the country, but the nonsense rhymes had been an important part of growing up. We got the boys tucked in and the house was quiet once again. "Tony," Lissa said, "You missed therapy today. We shouldn't let it go any longer." Lexi's head shot up. "Are you seeing a psychiatrist?" "Mom!" "I'm sorry ... I mean..." Lissa managed to swallow her wine without choking on it. I'm not sure how she managed. "Physical therapy," I explained. "Not that I don't need any other kind, but this is for my ankle. I injured it in a racquetball tournament this weekend." "An athlete artist?" "Ironic, isn't it, Mom? I spend all of high school dodging the jocks and then I end up with the only student athlete in my entire college. It must have been my destiny." She sighed melodramatically. "And you got two for one," Lissa laughed. "But I'm serious. We need to get you into the hot tub, do the stretches, and ice before bed." "Yes, coach," I said as I stood. "Melody and I have classes at nine tomorrow, so I may not see you before I take off, Lexi. You'll stay for a few days, though, won't you?" "Well, one or two. I don't want to wear out my welcome. Do you need a babysitter while you work, Lissa?" "Molly will take the boys tomorrow. She's my nanny. But you are welcome to either hang out here at the house or come downtown with me. Or if there is someplace you'd like to see, I could drop you off on my way to work. We can talk about it in the morning. Now mister, get to the tub." I started down the hall with Lissa supporting me in an exaggerated show that just meant she got to have her arm around me. Just before we entered the bedroom I heard Lexi speak to Melody. "Oh my. How can you compete, Melly? She's just so intensely beautiful." "It's not a contest, Mom. Come on, I want to show you something downstairs." We passed out of range of hearing them as they went to the lower level—the space where Melody and I had our easels and artwork. Mmmmm. If Lexi was upset about the painting in the school hallway, I wondered what she'd think after she saw the paintings on my easel downstairs. Or the one that was on Melody's. ------- The best part of my physical therapy was that Lissa and I were both naked. Other than that, it pretty much just hurt. The ice was almost unbearable and the heat of the spa was higher than we'd ever had it. I was looking for anything to distract me and Lissa kept pushing my hands away from her breasts and pussy while she worked on me. With good humored laughs, but firmly, anyway. I finally asked, "So how do you think Melly's mom will react to our paintings downstairs. I hope she hasn't started flinging paint around." "Melly? Don't tell me you're adopting Lexi's pet name for her." "Naw. It is cute, though. Personally, though, I like Drew's name better. 'Meddy pway wid me.' 'Meddy, color.' 'Meddy hug me.' Your boy is serious competition for me." "Well, the way Damon has been hanging all over you, I guess she deserves some attention. You've both been wonderful with the boys. Are you sure... ? I mean ... Isn't it too much for... ? Oh shit. I don't know what I mean." "Lissa, are you asking if our love for you and our willingness to be with you are lessened because you come with two of the greatest kids I've ever met? Are you worried that we'll leave you because we can't take the boys anymore?" Lissa looked at me and there were tears in her eyes. "We didn't even tell your parents I have children. I thought Melody's mother would run for the door when she found out. How can you take on so much responsibility? How can I ask you?" I held out my arms and Lissa melted into them. The timer ran out and the jets in the spa went silent. I held her close to my chest and felt her sob quietly. "We have to correct the situation with my folks," I said. "They need to know. I always thought that I'd someday be a father. It scared the bejeezus out of me. I thought I'd be stuck in a factory someplace trying to earn enough to pay for their shoes and my faceless pregnant wife's doctor bills. Or that I would become a teacher and face rooms full of resentful teens who I forced to draw arcs and lines until one finally showed some talent. My idea of children was that you had to give up your dreams to have them." Lissa quieted in my arms. The bathroom was still warm and steamy from the tub, but it was quiet save for a little splash if I moved my hands. "Since I met Drew and Damon, I've felt something different. I saw how much of a responsibility kids are. It's hard! But for the first time, I've also seen how much joy there is in our family. It's selfish of me, I suppose, but I know we ... you ... aren't financially strapped and they boys are well-cared for. That takes away most of the burden I used to feel when I thought about having kids. I still wouldn't go out and start a brood at this age, but having them come along with the women I love is fun. And I know you have something with them I can never have, but I want to be right there with you, as much as you will let me. And I know for a fact that Melody feels the same way because we've talked about it. We love who our love loves, not only for her sake, but because we are a family." Lissa pulled herself up to kiss me softly, then more passionately. I felt myself stirring beneath the surface of the water where I was pressed against her thigh. She felt my growing tumescence as well and touched me with her fingertips. "I want us to be a family, Lissa. Do you think my dad knows a word for 'household of five?'" "I think you just used it." I felt her hand more aggressively on my shaft. "Family." "Make love with me, Lissa." "Just a second." She stood and stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel. I started to get out as well. "Just sit on the edge for a minute." She opened the medicine cabinet and took a small plastic bottle from the shelf. She dried her pussy and handed me the towel. "Dry yourself off." I did as instructed and she poured a dab of gel from the bottle onto her fingertips and smeared it thoroughly around and in her center. Then she used a little more and stroked the length of my shaft. The silky feeling was incredible. "This is just slightly less water soluble than our natural juices. It's a lubricant that will make it easier to make love in the water." With that she stepped over to straddle me where I sat on the edge of the tub with my feet in the water. She lowered herself onto me and then pulled me toward her until we were able to sit in the water facing each other, enjoying our coupling. We were quiet in our love-making. We've had some pretty intense sessions together and with Melody in the past few weeks. But this time, we just looked at each other as I gently moved her up and down my erection, buoyed near weightlessness by the water. There was a definite difference between the artificial lubrication near her opening and the more natural hot liquid deeper inside, but it was an incredible feeling. I dipped my head and caught her right nipple between my lips and it hardened as I tongued it, eliciting a plaintive moan from her. She leaned forward enough to lick at my right ear and I thought I would come on the spot. We lifted our heads together and kissed again, long and deep and filled with the desire to be one with each other—to find some way to be even closer than we were. I wanted to share her tongue, her eyes, and the very breath that escaped from her lips when I plunged deeply into her. I ran my hands across her shoulders, her breasts, and her back. I gripped her butt as I lifted her and pushed her back down onto my hardness again and again. Our lips locked together and we each moaned our orgasms quietly and intensely into the other's mouth. We held onto each other and just sat in the cooling water while our breath returned to normal. She kissed me again and then looked into my eyes. "We've all met your parents and Melody's parents," she said. "I think it's time you both met the boys' father." It was the first time I'd heard her mention Jack Wade not as her ex-husband, but as her sons' father. Somehow that was significant. ------- When we walked out of the bathroom, Melody had her knees pulled up to her chin, facing away from us in the middle of the bed. Her bare shoulders were shaking with silent sobs. Lissa and I both rushed to her and held her from either side. "Melody, little one. What is it?" I asked as I spooned against her from the back. She clutched Lissa to her, unable to stop sobbing. "You ... you ... must hate me." That was a surprise. What had Lexi told her? Why was she so upset that Lissa and I were in the bath together? It just didn't make sense. "How could we hate you, love?" Lissa whispered. "What is it?" "My ... my ... family. They were so horrid to you. Even when Mom said she accepted us, she still tried to make it look like I was just hanging on to the two of you and that you were just being kind to me." "She said that?" I growled. "She talked to Dad when she got up from her nap. He told her it was all her fault. Now she thinks she is a failure as a mother. I yelled at her again. And I called Dad and yelled at him. I'm a terrible person." "Shhh ... shhh. You are not a terrible person, and we love you like crazy. We would never hate you and you aren't a hanger-on." "Third wheel, Mom said. She said you'd leave as soon as you learned to ride a bicycle." "That bitch! I'm sorry, Melody, but I'm going to go have a talk with her." I rolled off the bed and stood up. "Don't leave me, Tony! Please, just stay here with me. Please hold me." I couldn't deny her plea and crawled back in beside her. Inside I was seething. I thought we'd come so far. I was seriously considering whether Lexi might be bi-polar. For now, though, Melody needed me here and here was where I'd stay. I'd drive her mother to the airport tomorrow morning and tell her to go away. Damn, I was mad! I just kept hold of Melody and had my arm wrapped all the way across Lissa as we lay there and comforted her. Being in front of Melody and facing her, Lissa had easy access to Melody's face and lips. She gently dried her tears and placed kisses on her nose and eyelids. It almost made me cry to watch her love Mel; it was so beautiful. Soon their lips were together and as they lost themselves in each other, their tongues played and their hands began a timid exploration of each other. Their caresses looked like two feathers touching, they were so light and soothing. I watched. I've been around the Internet enough to know that two girls together is a huge male fantasy. I had it myself and then I became one of the few for whom fantasy became a reality. The reality was so much better. Oh my god. Lissa and Melody had been together without me. Melody and I had been together without Lissa, and Lissa and I had been together without Melody. But whenever we were all three together (and awake) our sexual discovery had included all three of us. The male fantasy pretty much requires him to be involved. But I'd never been present while Lissa and Melody made love without me. Yes, I was there. Yes I was turned on. I just didn't want to intrude on the incredible connection between my two lovers. So I just lay there—close enough to be brushed by the errant hand or hair—close enough to feel the heat rising from their bodies—close enough to smell their arousal. I watched. It was beautiful. I saw them give each other what they each wanted to receive. I saw them explore their breasts and pussies, but also their shoulders and backs. I saw their eyes connect and hold. I saw them each sink into the other's awareness so that not only touches, but even thoughts turned erotic. When Lissa moved over Melody and began kissing her way down our young lover's body, Melody didn't fight for equal pleasuring, but simply relaxed and received what Lissa gave her. Receiving without trying to control and give back was something I don't think I'd ever witnessed. Melody didn't try to reverse the roles and go down on Lissa. She just let Lissa give her all the strength and love that she could. When Lissa had reached Melody's treasure, they grasped each other's hands on the side nearest me and Melody moved them over until they rested on my upturned palm. The three of us were tied together and I could feel the electric jolt when Melody gasped out her climax, then gasped again as Lissa drove her instantly toward another peak. A long, drawn-out syllable of ecstasy accompanied the third orgasm, never loud enough to leave the room, but so intense that it filled every corner. Melody relaxed back into deep sleep, going limp beneath Lissa's hand. Eventually Lissa stirred and pulled herself up to lie alongside and slightly over Melody, kissing our lover's shoulder before she, too, slipped into sleep. I pulled the sheet up to cover us. That's when I saw the slight movement near the door. Lexi stood leaning against the frame. She was sobbing silently, looking at the tableau on the bed. The flash of anger that I felt was quelled by the look of utter loss on the woman's face. It was the agony of defeat. I knew it well. I carefully slid out of bed and wrapped my towel around myself. She didn't move as I approached her, eyes still fixed on the lovers. I put my arm around her shoulders and she leaned into me, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "I thought he'd take me back if I just brought her home," she whispered so softly I could barely hear her. "What was I thinking? How could I sacrifice her happiness for a false hope? She'll never forgive me." I didn't know yet if I would ever forgive her, but Melody needed her family. As much as I wanted to hate Lexi and her husband, I wanted them to accept us more. "You should kiss her goodnight and go to bed now," I said softly. She looked up at me for confirmation and then went to the bed. She petted Melody's hair softly, careful not to wake her sleeping baby. I watched as Melody whimpered a little and held her mother's hand to her cheek. I don't think she really woke up. Lexi kissed the top of her head and then walked past me. I heard the door to her room close down the hall. I got in bed behind Lissa, wrapped my arm across both my lovers, and went to sleep. ------- Chapter 11 I woke up sometime in the middle of the night. Maybe "woke up" is too strong a term. I floated up out of sleep far enough to be cognizant of my erection pressed between Lissa's thighs from behind. She floated with me and shifted just enough to guide me into her. For a long time we drifted in and out of sleep as we made tiny movements, never sure if we were dreaming or awake. A feeling of deep contentment washed over me as I pressed my face against her shoulder and felt her nipple harden against one hand and Melody's against the other. I'm pretty sure I came, but I sank back down into my dreams, still intimately connected with my lover. When the alarm rang, my eyes snapped open. Melody was closest to the alarm and fumbled with it. My cock was still nestled up between Lissa's nether lips. "Mmmm," Lissa moaned, wiggling her hips into my stomach. "What a nice way to wake up ... and to sleep." Melody, having succeeded in silencing the alarm rolled back toward us. "Lissa sandwich," she said. She kissed our lover, her hands flitting over both of us. "Oooo. What's this down here?" Her exploring hand found where we were still semi-connected. "Just leftovers," I said. "I had this most amazing dream and then I woke up to a dream come true." "Mmmm. Let's go back to sleep and all dream it together," Lissa moaned. "Do we have to go to class today? I'm still exhausted." Melody stretched and sat up. Seeing those beautiful shoulders rise and the line of her arm flowing into her outthrust breasts as she stretched caused a twitch in my cock, but I knew it was just a salute. I reluctantly pulled away from Lissa and sat up. She moaned as she rolled to her back and put an arm around each of us. "You might get away with cutting, but I've got to stay awake during Art History this morning. And I need to talk to Ms. Brock this afternoon about all the Concepts classes I've missed. She was a little sarcastic Monday about how pleased she was to see me in class." "And I have to visit the Rosewood store this morning," Lissa said. "We're looking at a new line and I want to go over how the merchandise will fit into our display space." "Fun! I want to do that," Melody said. She leaned in to kiss each of us. "Do I smell bacon?" "Mmmm. Your mother, unless the boys are cooking," I said. "She must have beaten us to the kitchen this morning." Melody's mood soured a little. We took our turns in the bathroom and wandered out toward the kitchen together. Lexi entertained the boys at the breakfast bar while she cooked at the stove. We all paused to listen. Melody stiffened a little, but Lissa and I hugged her between us. I could feel some of the tension drain out of her. "My mommy is the best mommy in the whole world," Damon affirmed. "Really? Who says?" Lexi asked. "My daddy says so." Lissa was a little startled at that and began to move into the room. I held her back to listen some more. "Do you know what I think?" Lexi asked. "I think your mommy and daddy have the best boys in the world. Do you want another pancake?" "Mickey Mouse!" Drew shouted, holding out his plate. We took that as our cue to enter the kitchen. "Mommy!" the boys called when they saw us. "We didn't wake you up." They were still in their pajamas and had syrup all over their faces. "No honey, you didn't wake us up. Are you having fun with Mrs. Anderson?" "Mickey Mouse!" Drew affirmed again. "Mom, are you making Mickey Mouse pancakes? Can we have some?" "Of course, dear. Lissa, I hope you don't mind that I commandeered the kitchen. When the boys came out I thought making them breakfast would keep them from disturbing you too early. There's fresh coffee." "No, of course not. I love it when people are at home in my kitchen. What are Mickey Mouse pancakes?" Lexi showed the three connected pancakes that made a mouse face with blueberries for eyes, nose, and mouth. "How cute!" "You were up early," I said casually. "Still on East Coast time, dear," Lexi said pleasantly. "I had a lot to think about this morning." Melody tentatively hugged her mom from behind and we all gathered around the breakfast bar. There weren't enough stools to go around, but it didn't make a difference as we leaned against the counter and drank our coffee. When Lissa announced that it was time for the boys to clean up and get ready for school, Melody jumped at the opportunity to take them to wash their sticky faces and hands. Lissa and I poured another cup of coffee and sat with Lexi. "Tony, thank you," Lexi started. Lissa raised an eyebrow, but I declined to respond with more than a nod. "Lissa, I don't know how to say I'm sorry in a way that you can believe after my behavior yesterday. I promise I will do my best to make it up to all three of you." She hesitated and I could tell that she'd made a difficult decision. "I don't want to lose my daughter. I don't understand how you can be in the relationship you are. It is so foreign to me. But if you are happy, I don't need to understand. My marriage failed. You three are so beautiful together that I have I have to accept that Melly is okay. I'll do my very best. I won't interfere or try to drive you apart. I'll even..." She had trouble going on. " ... even defend you from Harold. I'll try. Just, please let me be part of your lives. I'll do better. I promise I'll do better." What could I do? I just gave her a hug and said, "I have to get ready for class. I'll be out in a few minutes." "Would you like to visit one of my stores with me this morning?" Lissa asked. "It will be much better than hanging around the empty house all day." We would make this work for Melody's sake. Somehow. ------- We made it through the week. Lexi was true to her promise and worked hard at mending her relationship with Melody. She followed Lissa to various stores on Wednesday, went to classes with Melody on Thursday. She met our friends and even sat for a portrait—fully clothed—for our Live Painting class on Friday. I'd like to say that I painted her with love and affection and that when she looked at the painting she could see herself through eyes that saw all the good in her. I can't. The painting was barely passable. I still harbored too much resentment and anger. Melody's portrait of her mother, however, brought the woman to tears. I had a light workout on Friday, the first time I was allowed back on the courts. I worked entirely on serves so I wouldn't be running, stopping, and starting frequently. My ankle was feeling much better, but after the workout it was still pretty sore. Lissa sent me straight for the training room at SCU where one of the student trainers worked on me for about an hour and then wrapped my ankle so that I could walk to dinner. Melody had packed clothes for me to change into before we met for dinner. It was dressier than anything I'd worn since school started. She'd selected a pair of khaki slacks, pale blue oxford shirt and my one and only navy blue blazer. Still, instead of going straight to the restaurant, I caught a lift to my dorm room and changed out of my sneakers and into my brown dress shoes after I dug them out from under the bed and behind my dresser. I was running late, so—feeling like a real adult—I called a cab and was delivered to the restaurant. ------- Carmine's Cucina is a nice Italian place with a noisy, family-style atmosphere. Jack Wade had taken care of reservations and managed to get us a booth in one of the quieter areas of the bustling restaurant. This was a big deal. Not only were we managing the new and somewhat fragile relationship with Melody's mother, we were adding Lissa's ex into the mix. Of course, I was late and they were all seated. Melody jumped up from her chair at the end of the booth and planted a hot kiss on me as soon as I approached the table. Lissa slid out of the booth and as soon as my lips were released from Mel they were captured by Lissa. Then she turned to the table and introduced me. "Jack, this is our boyfriend, Tony. Tony, this is Damon and Drew's dad, Jack Wade." I noted with pleasure that she didn't introduce him as her ex, but as the boys' dad. Jack and I shook hands. He was about the same age as Melody's mom—maybe just a little older. He was a nice-looking guy, reasonably fit, but definitely showing his age. There was nothing either antagonistic or overly friendly about his handshake. It was the completely neutral grasp that you might expect of two business men being introduced. "I feel like I already know you," Jack said. "Last week the boys went on and on about how I should read Dr. Seuss like Tony does. I may have to take lessons. How long does this Dr. Seuss phase last, anyway?" "I'm not sure," I answered with a grin. "I think I'd outgrown mine by the time I was in high school, though." Jack groaned. Apparently I'd arrived at the restaurant too late to order. Food just started arriving along with a bottle of wine. The waitress looked skeptically at me as she was placing the wine glasses on the table. I waved her off. "I'm in training." "I'm the designated driver," Lissa jumped in. "None for me, thanks." "Oh come on," Melody said looking at the waitress. "Do I look like I'm old enough to drink? Just serve the old folks." Our waitress laughed and thanked us for making her job easier. She was cute. Her hair was curly, chin length, and was streaked so she almost looked like a tiger. I couldn't make out the exact shade of brown but with the pink restaurant lighting and dancing candlelight on our table, I knew exactly how I'd paint the highlights in her dark tresses. She had a scoop-neck top on that hung open dangerously when she leaned over the table to explain the gnocchi, cuttlefish and bean salad, and beet salad with pistachios. I felt a little pinch on my thigh and looked over at Lissa who was grinning at me mischievously. Busted. A guy can't get away with anything. But the food was great! "What are you studying, Melody?" Jack asked as we helped ourselves to the food. "My first year has been taken up with general studio classes and 2D design," Melody responded. "If all goes well, when I have my portfolio review I'll be admitted to the textile design program." "Another member of the fashion industry," Jack laughed looking at Lissa. "Sort of," Melody agreed. "I love dressing Lissa up like a doll. But it's really the fabric side that I'm interested in and it goes way beyond wearable fashion. I wanted to bring my loom out, but you can't carry it on the plane. A little big." "Well, maybe you can shop for one around here. I could keep an eye out if you'd like," Jack offered. "That would be wonderful!" "How about you, Jack," Lexi asked. "What do you do for a living?" "I'm happy to say that I'm officially retired. I do a little consulting on the side, primarily working with the parents of young talent when they come into the agency. These kids come in—sometimes as young as eight years old—and it's amazing what their parents expect. We get everything from people who only want their kids to work during spring break to those who expect their kids to be the primary wage-earner for the family with a 40-hour a week job. The agency calls me in about once a month to meet with difficult parents and explain to them what the life is really like." "What about the boys," I asked. "Do you have plans for them to start modeling?" "Not if I can help it," Lissa broke in. "I think Lissa and I agree that we won't intentionally introduce the boys to modeling. I won't object if they come to me and ask if they can try it, but off-hand I'd say they have too many other interests. You are more likely to influence Damon into becoming an artist." "Me?" Jack just nodded. I felt and hand on each leg stroking me gently and looked at each of my lovers. I smiled to let them know I was okay. Actually, I was okay. The thought that I could influence Damon and Drew's lives was a new concept to me and I found that it wasn't at all unpleasant. "Speaking of talent, have you seen the mural painting that Tony did of our girls?" Lexi asked. I was a little worried about where this could lead. She'd been trying hard not to be critical of us, even though I knew she was fighting her nature at times. But since the meltdown on Tuesday, we hadn't actually spoken of the painting. It was the subtlety in her question, though, that impressed me. With just a few words, Lexi had positioned herself and Jack as parents with Lissa and Melody as "their girls." I wasn't sure how this was going to play out. But Jack really surprised me. "Lissa gave me a tour of it this morning. She said I needed to know what I was getting into tonight." I had no idea that Jack had seen the painting. "I don't know much about art, but..." " ... you know what you like?" Melody and I concluded for him. We'd heard the old adage so frequently that we automatically supplied the end. Fortunately, everyone at the table laughed. "Well, yes; there is that. But I also know enough to listen to what people who do know art have to say about it. I went back to look at it again this afternoon after Lissa went to the gym." "You did?" Lissa asked. "Why?" "I took Ben Bowers with me." My heart started beating in my throat. Ben Bowers is the art critic for the Times. That might not seem like much in a town like ours, but he was highly respected in art circles and had written critiques of work all over the world. He could be a scathing critic or a word from him could make the career of a new artist. Damn! Why had he brought an art critic to see a piece of student art? I grabbed both Lissa's and Melody's hands under the table and squeezed so tightly that they used their other hands to pry my fingers loose a little. "Okay." I finally managed to breathe out and gasped another lungful of air in. "I guess I'm ready. What did he say?" Jack smiled at me. "I asked him to write it down for me so I could get the words right," Jack said. He reached in his pocket and unfolded a typewritten page to read from. "They should take a saw and cut this piece out of the wall on which it was painted." Jack looked up at me and smiled. I was stunned. The best work I'd ever done and the first critic who sees it hates it. But Jack smiled and it wasn't the vindictive smile that I expected. "I'm playing with you, Tony. Relax." "He didn't say that?" "Oh yes, he did. But I read it out of context. Let me give you the full notice. The mural as a whole is a lovely collage of scenes. The flow from focal point to focal point is the obvious work of a master. But one vignette stands out from the rest. This segment is the only thing people who visit will see as the rest of the 40-foot-long mural fades away by comparison. They should take a saw and cut this piece out of the wall on which it was painted. It deserves a place of prominence without the clutter that surrounds it. Obviously painted by a different artist than the rest of the mural, we can look forward to seeing future works from a student whose art will far surpass that of his master's. I think that puts it into better perspective, don't you?" I was speechless. Melody's mouth was hanging open and as Lissa reached to pull me into a hug she shot a chiding look at Jack. It was Lexi who broke the silence. "Does this Ben Bowers know what he's talking about?" "Ben and I go way back," Jack said. "He's one of the foremost art critics in the country. He writes a column for the Times on the local art scene, but his critiques of major exhibitions around the world are syndicated in over 100 different newspapers and magazines in a dozen languages. Praise from Ben is something you can take to the bank." "My!" Lexi beamed at me. "I'm so proud of you, Tony." My relief at what Jack and Ben had said outweighed my surprise at Lexi's outburst. It didn't go unnoticed by Melody, though, who beamed at her mother and hugged me again. The rest of the meal went by pleasantly in typical slow Italian fashion. An hour and a half later we were sipping cappuccinos as a small band started gathering on the restaurant's little stage. Tables nearby were moved back into more crowded spaces as the dinner service ended and people started coming in for drinks and music. They started off with some big band numbers, reset for the piano, drum, and bass trio. I could tell this was going to be a great end to the evening as the dance floor started to fill. Jack asked Lexi if she would dance with him and she blushed as she accepted his offered hand and he led her away from our table. "You could dance, I don't mind," Lissa said to Melody and me. Melody looked at me expectantly. "I'd love to," I said. "I hear a but... ?" "You have a very nice one." "Come on." "No. The truth is practice was kind of hard on my ankle and I'd rather not dance on it," I confessed. "I took a cab to get over here instead of walking. But why don't you two dance?" "I don't see any other girl-girl couples on the dance floor," Lissa said. "Maybe you'll inspire something." I leaned in conspiratorially and they leaned in next to me as I whispered. "I saw a girl-girl couple last night and it certainly inspired me. They were the two sexiest women I'd ever seen and they were lying in bed right next to me. I'd be happy if I could wake up every day of my life to that sight. But right now, I'd love it if my lovers danced together vertically as well." I got kissed from both sides and slid out of my seat to let Lissa out as she and Melody headed for the dance floor. They were exquisite. Melody was just over chin height to Lissa, the same as she was to me. Her dark mahogany tresses formed a counterpoint to Lissa's short golden hair. They had a little difficulty sorting out who was going to lead, but Lissa guided Melody effortlessly. I was going to have to take some dance lessons. This looked like too much fun. My view was temporarily blocked by another nice view in the form of our waitress leaning over the table to put two drinks down. The lights were low, but I could make out every detail of her bright red bra. She stayed there a little longer than strictly necessary as she made herself busy straightening the coffee condiments on the table. Then she slowly straightened and smiled at me. "I thought sure one of those two was your girlfriend. Does their absence mean you are unattached?" She was just flirting. Just flirting. "No, afraid not. It just means I've got a bruised ankle and can't dance right now." "Oh, too bad. So which one is it?" "Which ankle?" "Which one is your girlfriend? They're both smokin' hot." "Both of them." "Yeah, both of them. But which one is it?" "Both of them," I repeated. I looked her in the eye and smiled. The color was rising in her face and her nicely displayed upper chest was nearing the color of her still-exposed bra. She took a couple of shallow breaths. "Oh shit! Oops ... sorry! I just ... wow! That just isn't something I see in here every day. Wow. Uh ... your ... dad, I guess ... ordered the drinks, by the way. I wasn't trying to put the make on you. Well, not just trying to anyway. I think I'll go take a break now. Flag down one of the other girls if you need anything else." She backed up, almost tripped over the table behind her, and scurried to the bar. I looked around the dance floor again and when I spotted the girls, Lexi was dancing with them to a light jazz piece that gave the three lots of room to move as the crowd of dancers thinned. Suddenly Jack was sliding into the booth opposite me. "Wooo! Lexi is a wild thing when she cuts loose." He pushed one of the glasses across the table to me. "Courvoisier. I want to have a drink with you and this is a small one. Just sip." I took a sip and it burned my mouth and my throat, warming me all the way to my stomach. After I got over the initial shock, the aftertaste in my mouth was surprisingly pleasant. "Tony, I want to give you a word of advice, man to man. And before you jump to conclusions, it isn't about Lissa. I'm scarcely in a position to criticize unusual pairings—or tri-ings, if that's a word. Lissa's a grown woman, no matter how cute and young-looking she is. She wouldn't choose partners lightly." "What were you suggesting, then?" I asked. "Bob promised me that he wouldn't print the critique that I read you. He wrote it in a personal letter of recommendation. You can have it, but I wouldn't show it around until you really need it. He'll review the piece before the school's open house exhibition in two weeks, but it won't picture you as outshining your teachers. It will be a good review, but I talked to Bob about how some of his words could actually create hard feelings and make your situation harder rather than easier." "Thank you. I was a little worried about how Dr. Henredden would respond. His work is really good." "Yes it is. But Tony, no matter how Bob phrases his praise, people coming to visit the piece will be able to see the talent. You are going to need an agent. Don't accept any position, job, contract, or offer until you have a certified agent look it over and negotiate on your behalf. I've been in the business for a lot of years and I've seen young talent come in after having signed an agreement when it's too late for an agent to help. There are a lot of people out there willing to exploit you if you let them." "You want to represent me?" "No. Even if I weren't retired, my expertise is in modeling, not art. I can introduce you to a couple of possible agents if you'd like, but it won't be me and it won't be anyone from the agency I work with. I won't have any potential conflict of interest in helping you. You're welcome to talk to me, but I hope you'll talk to me as a friend and as an influence on my children. I'm offering you that friendship whether things work out long-term for you and Lissa and Melody or not." Jack looked me straight in the eye when he spoke. He was, indeed, talking man to man with me. There was no condescension, jealousy, or manipulation in what he was saying. I nodded. "Thank you, Jack. Lissa has spoken to me about your sense of honor and the fact that you are a caring person. I appreciate it. I know you said you weren't giving me advice about Lissa, but would you mind answering a question for me?" "Shoot. I'll answer if I can without betraying any confidences." "Why did you and Lissa split? I get the impression that it wasn't entirely her idea." Jack smiled and took another sip of his cognac. He glanced over to the dance floor where the three women were moving off toward the restrooms. "It was mostly my idea, in fact," Jack said. "Lissa is fiercely loyal to those she loves. I've known her since she was a baby. I'm her uncle, though not related by blood. Marrying her would have been tricky if we'd attempted to do it in the U.S. After Drew was born I was afraid she would shrink into her little world as a housewife and mother and in twenty years—about the time I was ready to die—she'd realize what a terrible mistake she'd made and I would die alone. I looked in the mirror and for the first time I let myself see my reflection openly and honestly. I'm more than thirty years her senior and those years will seem like more and more as time accelerates me into old age. Divorcing Lissa was terribly selfish of me. It was the only way I could think that she would continue to love and care for me into old age as her uncle, father of her children, and one-time guardian. I won't die alone." "You still love her, don't you?" "With all my heart, Tony. So much so that you'll never have to worry about me interfering." We raised our glasses in a silent toast to each other and polished off the cognac just as the ladies returned to our table. They sat, but began gathering up their things, preparing to leave. "So, what did you decide?" Lissa asked. "Huh? Did we decide something? About what?" "The waitress, silly," Melody piled on. "We're dying to know if we have number nine to add to the future Tony models list." I laughed. All right. If they were going to tease... "Oh, it was nothing really. She wanted to know if you two were exclusive to each other or if you dated around. I gave her your phone numbers." "You didn't!" I laughed. Melody pinched my chin between her finger and thumb and scowled, leaning close to me. "Just wait till we get you home, young man." She grinned impishly. "Melody," Jack said. "I've just asked Lexi to take in the sights of the city by night with me. Do you mind if I borrow her for a couple hours?" Melody looked at her mother in surprise. Lexi refused to meet her eyes. "Well, okay, but what's your curfew, Ms. Anderson?" We all noticed that Melody had changed her title. For all her embarrassment, however, Lexi responded in kind. "Would one be okay? It's a special night, after all. I'm leaving for Boston tomorrow afternoon." She sounded like I imagined Melody would have when she was dating in high school. Melody looked at Lissa and me as if to get our agreement. Lissa couldn't stop giggling. Melody looked at her phone to check the time. It was just after ten-thirty. "Well, since it is a special occasion, I think we could extend curfew till two. Most of the clubs don't close till then. But don't you go getting drunk and miss your flight tomorrow." By this time we were all laughing and headed for the door. Our waitress was still at the bar, so I tugged Lissa and Melody to a stop in front of her and then leaned in. I spoke just loudly enough so that the two could hear me. "They say they'd consider adding you if you can pass the tests," I said. Both Melody and Lissa punched my arm. The waitress, however, grabbed a beer coaster and scribbled on it quickly and handed it to me. On the back it said, "Wendy" and her phone number. There was a heart drawn next to it. She waved as we left. Jack and Lexi said goodnight as they headed to Jack's car. As soon as we were out of earshot, both Melody and Lissa started tugging at me. "That was so cruel," Lissa said. "That poor girl thinks we're ... What does she think we are?" "You know you are going to have to call her now," Melody added. "And I'm going to write the script. You are so going to get punished when we get home." "I have some ideas on that matter," Lissa added. "And we should safely have three hours before your mother catches us again." "Again?" "She saw us Tuesday night," Lissa said. "I saw her out of the corner of my eye and then Tony was so sweet with her. She kissed you goodnight and then left." Melody touched her cheek and I remembered Lexi cradling her cheek in her hand as she fell asleep. "I thought that was a dream," Melody said. "A beautiful, wonderful dream." ------- It didn't seem like punishment until I had to get up to go to Pilates on Saturday morning. Just getting out of bed was punishment enough, but Lissa pointed at the keys to the car and said to be back by noon, then she and Melody snuggled back into bed. There was no sign of Lexi. I assumed she'd returned last night. Molly had stayed with the kids at Jack's house. This morning it was just me making coffee and eating toast. I got to the club in plenty of time and then the Pilates instructor worked my ass off manipulating muscles that I hadn't worked in a week. I was still sore from my light workout Friday afternoon and in spite of feeling more energized, the Pilates hadn't eased my pain. I dragged myself into the steam room and dozed in the heat and moisture. I got showered, rewrapped my ankle, and took another anti-inflammatory. I looked almost human when I returned to pick up everyone for the trip to the airport. That's more than I could say for the three women who dragged themselves out to the car. After an emotional goodbye at the airport security line, Lexi was gone and I looked forward to life returning to normal—whatever that was. ------- It was a crazy hectic week. We got the official invitation to Bree's party on Monday. She was going all out. "Welcome Pacific College of the Arts and Design student and Inter-Collegiate National Racquetball competitor Tony Ames to Seattle Cascades University at 8:00 p.m. at Coach Sam Jacobson's house. Refreshments will be served, but no alcohol or drugs will be allowed on the premises. Attire is semi-formal (cocktail dresses, jackets and ties). A special contest will be held to guess the identity of Tony's girlfriend. Film clips and sketches from the USAR Intercollegiate National Championships in which Tony was the bronze medalist will be on display." "Holy shit! What's with the big deal?" I asked as we looked over the invite. "I thought Bree was just having a party for a few friends. This looks serious." "Maybe I shouldn't go," Lissa said. "I'm not sure I want to be in a contest to identify Tony's girlfriend, especially if Bree is running it." "It's okay, darling," Melody said. "I worked out the details with Bree before she sent out the invites. There won't be any danger of our relationship being exposed. I talked to Coach Jacobson as well." "I don't want my girlfriend selected by a vote," I said. "I'm pretty happy with the ones I've got." "They're not voting, they're guessing. It will be fun." "If you say so." ------- The preliminary review of my portfolio did not go well. Art History and Art Orientation would have final exams. Fundamentals, Concepts, and Figure Painting had final projects. I was supposed to be able to show my progress through my portfolio and then the review committee would determine if I should continue on my current course of study or if adjustments should be made. They would be the final arbiters of my grades. My committee comprised Prof. McIntyre, Dr. Henredden, and Abe Ardmore, the chairman of the Studio Arts Department. My preliminary review was with my advisor, Prof. McIntyre. Hers was the only class for which my final project was complete as she had agreed to take my concept sketches and finished work on the mural as my final painting. "Tony, your portfolio doesn't show anywhere near the progress you've made this year. Your presentations for Fundamentals are unspectacular. You are lacking significant examples from Concepts, and you have nothing at all from your Art Orientation class. Frankly, if this were your final review, we'd reduce all your grades except Life Drawing/Painting a letter grade across the board." "A letter grade?" I was stunned. My final review was scheduled for next week since I'd be missing the last week of school for National Singles. "What do I need to do?" I was near panic already. Losing a letter would mean that I positively wouldn't make a B average for the semester. "You need to complete your portfolio in a professional presentation format. It needs to show progress from your earliest work in each class to your latest work. You should have been maintaining this portfolio all through the year, Tony. This is sloppy work. Just in case you've mislaid it, here are the criteria that were handed out during orientation last fall." "I'll fix it," I said, taking the sheet. How did this become such a big deal? Damn, I hate this fucking school. "Oh, and the student exhibition opens a week from Friday. With the splash you made with the mural, you should really have more than one piece in it. Your choice. But we need all the pieces you'll be exhibiting by end of day Wednesday." "Thank you." I left her office feeling stunned. I knew I needed to add more to my portfolio, but I didn't expect her to come down so hard on me. Shit, if I lost a letter grade in every class there's no way I'd qualify for my scholarship. I headed back to my room to start gathering stuff up. ------- "Damn it, Melody, stop it! This is serious. If I don't finish this and get it right I won't even be able to come back next year." I had piles of material spread out all over the bed and was redoing one of my portrait sketches. It was an early sketch and wasn't anywhere near my best work. "I don't get it. You've done all the work. Just put it in the portfolio." "Do you know how much they count portfolio review?" "Yeah. 30% of grade. So what did she say?" "She said my Fundamentals presentations were so-so, I was missing significant pieces from Concepts, and didn't have anything from Art Orientation. If it was my final review they'd knock a letter grade off everything except Life Drawing/Painting." There, that ought to let her know how serious this was. I let it sink in with a smirk. I wasn't expecting the blow-up that was about to happen. "So why the fuck are you redrawing a sketch for Life Drawing from last semester?" "I saw it and it needed work." "It didn't need work. Nothing in Life Drawing/Painting needs work. You've got that class nailed. Why the fuck aren't you pulling out your Art Orientation stuff and your Concepts stuff? Geez, Tony! Wake up!" "And I suppose you've got everything in perfect order." I yelled back at her. "Yes. There's nothing spectacular in my portfolio like there is in yours, but it shows the progress I've made this year. It's not that big a deal." "Maybe for you it isn't. You're a perfect student. I'm crappy student. I can't do the work with you trying to have sex with me all the time." "Fine. I'm catching a bus out to Lissa's. You can just sit here and screw yourself for all I care. Call if you ever get your head out of your ass." ------- I spent two painfully lonely nights alone in my dorm room with my portfolio spread out all over everyplace. I let the final paper for Art History go. I'd have to survive on what I'd done. It wasn't in the portfolio review. I called Lissa and Melody a couple of hours after she left and apologized to both of them. "For what?" Melody asked. "For being a general ass," I said. "Not too general," she responded. "Okay. Then for being a specific ass. I'm sorry." They forgave me, but we agreed that I needed the time to focus on school and they couldn't help but be a distraction. We'd all get back together Friday. Melody sat with me in Fundamentals on Thursday and we kissed at lunch and made up. It was all I could do to not beg her to come back to our room. I went to the Concepts lab and Ms. Brock just waved me over to where the projects had been set during the semester. "I wondered when you'd finally show up to do your portfolio photos. Your projects are over there somewhere." I found them and did a series of digital photos from the earliest project to the latest—the sculpture that I'd done out of clay. It was a little damaged, but it didn't take long to fix the sags and get it back in order. I sorted through the photos on my computer and loaded the best on a thumb-drive to take to Kinko's and have printed on photo paper. My most recent presentations for Fundamentals actually weren't bad. They certainly showed that I'd progressed in my understanding of the assignments and in my presentation skills. I just hadn't put them in the portfolio yet, so I spent a late night at the library fighting for time on the color printer to pump out the selected presentations at 30 cents a page. Art Orientation was the toughest. I considered the work in that class to be pretty much throw-away stuff. It was hardly more than doodles. I went searching through sketchbooks and the papers stacked on my desk until I had a pretty fair collection. I organized them from worst to best, hoping that no one would question what the chronological order was. I had no idea. By Friday, my portfolio was about as good as it was going to get. It was hard to believe that every student had to go through portfolio review in art, juries in music, or performance in dance and theater. You could tell in the hallways that everyone was up-tight. I saw a couple of kids come out of professors' offices in tears. Probably getting the same message I had. Yeah, we were all adults, capable of managing our own lives, but when you were faced with a professor ripping you a new one, you were just a kid. I breathed a sigh of relief when we all sat down for lunch on Friday after Life Painting. Topic of discussion: What was everyone wearing to the party next Saturday night? I'd listened to arrangements to borrow shoes, dresses, or make-up from each other and the merits of going braless or using an underwire shelf bra under a strapless dress. I excused myself to go to my Friday workout. It was the first time I'd seen Lissa all week and my whole day improved the minute I saw her. We stole a couple of minutes to make out before we got on the court. I had to adjust myself in my shorts before I could serve. All of a sudden, going without sex for a couple days seemed like an eternity. "I'll be so glad to have you in our bed tonight," Lissa whispered in my ear. "I can't satisfy that girl all by myself!" We laughed and started my first real scrimmage since my injury. It felt good. I worked up a sweat and my ankle was feeling strong. Lissa cut it short because she didn't want to risk re-injury. I headed over to SCU to use the sports therapy room. I had a pretty good routine over there now and I'd met a bunch of guys in different sports. It seemed like the baseball guys were all in as bad of shape as me. The trainers were working on arms and backs and I saw both pitchers with icepacks on their shoulders. I finally got my turn in the hydrotherapy bath and was just relaxing when someone splashed water in my face. I spluttered and looked up to see Bree and Sonia standing in on either side of me. "Hey! What are you two doing in here? This is the guys' locker room." "This is a sports therapy room. It's co-ed. You'd better not be naked in there," Bree laughed trying to look through the bubbles in the tub. Thankfully I wasn't, but I wasn't keen on her trying to find out. "No. You just surprised me. I forgot this isn't the club. Everything is separate over there. So what brings you here? Need therapy?" "Why? Do you want to massage my sore muscles, Tony?" Bree asked. "Bree, behave. We just came over to make sure you remembered the party," Sonia supplied. "I couldn't forget it. It's all the girls have been talking about. By the way, which is better if you are wearing a strapless dress—underwire shelf bra or braless?" "I know which I'd do," Bree said. "But if you wanted to find out, you'd have to go exploring." She pushed her chest forward over the edge of the tub. Not to be outdone Sonia did the same thing on the other side. "What do you think? Braless?" she asked. "Um ... I'm not that good a judge." "Well, you're only using your eyes, dummy." They both wiggled a little more and I was really blushing, not to mention stretching my trunks in the bath. "We have so much fun planned for tomorrow night," Bree went on. "We're going to see how many ways we can embarrass Tony." "Great. I think I'll stay home and watch the Fishing Channel." "What? Golf too fast for you?" Bree kidded. "If you don't show up tomorrow—on time—the entire football squad is going to hunt you down and drag you there. And getting physical with them is nowhere near as much fun as getting physical with us." "Girlfriend," I said weakly. "Remember? Girlfriend." "Just make sure you bring them all. We'll even have a few extras to choose from just to make sure you have a good selection." Great. I had five dates for the party Saturday night already. There was no way I was going to get there on time. ------- Chapter 12 Saturday morning, after Pilates, I was delegated to pick up Sandra, Amy, and Kate and then ordered to drive all five girls to the mall for a beauty treatment. Yeah, I make it sound like I was really put upon, but just having those five in the car with me ... Well, the temperature was rising. The teasing kept me red in the face. When we got to the mall, Lissa sent me to her store and told me to ask for Rose. Rose would dress me. I was not to ask about prices since the purchase was going on Lissa's employee account and Rose knew the limits. I would not be allowed out of the house tonight unless every item of clothing on my body was new. Well ... they would let me wear my good shoes as long as they were freshly polished. I dropped them off at the mall's shoeshine stand to have professional job done. When Rose was done with me, I went to QuickCuts and got my hair trimmed. The gal who cut my hair talked non-stop and wanted to know all about my date tonight, where I was going, and who I was taking. When I told her that I actually had five dates for a big party tonight she almost shaved my head. Accidentally, of course. Instead, she called one of the guys who worked there over and told him I needed special treatment. That made me nervous, but this guy was more of a traditional barber than a hair dresser and he wrapped a hot towel around my face and then proceeded to give me a shave. He actually used one of those straight razors you see in gangster movies just before somebody gets their throat slit. I didn't breathe for 20 minutes. The result, though, was that my face was baby smooth and felt pleasantly tingly. I left a big tip for the two of them. After four interminable hours at the mall, I was hungry, cranky, and loaded down with boxes of clothes for both me and the girls, including a new pair of slacks, a sport coat, and my shoes. The jacket was a deep maroon and was actually a pretty good match for the SCU school color. The shirt, tie, slacks, underwear, and socks were all chosen to match "the ensemble," as Rose kept referring to it. Back home, I fixed a sandwich as girls in various stages of dress and undress ran from bathroom to bedroom to bedroom to bathroom as they got ready for the evening. Eventually, they all moved into the master bedroom to do makeup and put their dresses on. I was told to use the guest bath to shower and dress. I'd been waiting in the living room for 40 minutes wishing Drew and Damon were there to read to when I was told to get ready to meet my dates. Well, I had a little surprise for them as well thanks to my collusion with Lissa. Only she knew what everyone was wearing and she'd stocked the refrigerator with flowers to match each girl's dress. It was worth the wait. ------- Kate came out first. I might not have mentioned how exotically beautiful Kate is. She hides it at school wearing bib overalls and a t-shirt with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She's maybe three inches shorter than me, which would make her taller than everyone else but Lissa. She wore a purple dress—her favorite color—cut about four inches above the knee. Her open toed heels raised her to eye-level with me and showed off her purple toenail polish. I was used to seeing her hair pulled back, but it was piled high on her head in a ballet dancer's bun that highlighted her facial features. I'd never asked Kate what her ethnic background was. Her name is English or German but the vision in front of me was anything but. Having her hair piled on top of her head accentuated her long bare neck—and shoulders—and back—and cleavage... Damn! She couldn't have cut that dress any lower and been legal in most states. I'd never seen her legs before. I mean naked. I mean in a skirt. Shit! She was wearing high heels and her bare legs were ... awesome! "God, Kate! You're gorgeous!" I couldn't think of anything else to say, though I was still just staring at her. She walked up to me like a model on a runway and then turned to walk back by the fireplace and stood facing me. Then she opened a piece of paper and read. "Your dates this evening will arrive in order of seniority, newest member of the posse first to first member of the posse last. We've dressed for the occasion. Purple is for passion, royalty, bravery. It is the color I have chosen for our first date. You may kiss me now, but don't mess up my lipstick ... too much." Kate was blushing and I was guessing that she hadn't read what Melody had written before she was sent out to face me. However, I wasn't going to pass up this opportunity. I stepped in front of her and looked into her blue eyes. They seemed to pick up some of the purple from her dress. "Kate, I am honored that you would consent to be my date this evening." Melody had written the script for me, as well, and I'd taken the time to memorize it. I surprised Kate and pulled a flower from behind my back. The purple orchid accented her dress and makeup perfectly. I tried not to embarrass either Kate or myself as I pinned the corsage onto the limited fabric that was available, but she didn't seem to mind the backs of my fingers pressed against the soft flesh of her left breast. "Decided braless was the right choice?" I asked with a bit of a smirk. "I never wear one," she answered. Well, that confirmed that. I wanted to leave my fingers where they were, but I decided I'd better move on. I leaned in to kiss her softly and she held her lips against mine without moving away. They were soft and slightly open and I fought the urge to press between them with my tongue. When I pulled back, she stayed in the same position with her eyes closed and the exposed portion of her chest rising and falling deeply. When it was apparent that I wasn't coming in for a second helping, she straightened with a sigh and looked into my eyes, smiling. She was going to be hard to resist. In fact, I wasn't sure I wanted to. A month ago I'd hardly noticed her. Tonight I couldn't take my eyes off her. She turned away from me and I saw a little bell on the mantel. She took it down and rang it and then moved aside. Amy walked in. Damn, she cleans up nice. She was wearing her version of the LBD—Little Black Dress. It was cut directly from the choker collar down beneath her armpits, leaving her shoulders bare. Her long, dark brown hair fell straight to the middle of her back and her brown eyes were lined darkly. She had impossibly long eyelashes. The dress was skin-tight down to the middle of her thighs and then flared out in a ruffled edge. In a way that only Amy could pull off, the finishing touch was black patent leather army boots. She paraded into the living room, sashayed up to me, paused, executed a perfect turn, and walked away from me to stand in front of the fireplace and face me. She, too, unfolded a sheet of paper and proceeded to read. "Black is the darkness of your soul, the mystery hidden within, the place where the sun doesn't shine." She stopped reading and looked back down the hall. "Geez, Melody! Did you really make me say that? I'll kill you!" I heard giggles down the hall. She turned back and read through the rest of her script silently, determining whether she was going to read it out loud. Apparently the rest wasn't so bad, but as she read, she ad-libbed. "It's the color I've chosen for our first [and probably last] date. I'm your second date tonight [since all the rest of them have already undressed in front of you]. You may kiss your date [but keep your damned tongue in your own mouth]." She puckered up her lips tightly, closed her eyes, and thrust her face forward. She yelped when I touched her chin and her eyes shot open. "Amy, I am honored that you would consent to be my date this evening." When I showed Amy the red sweetheart rose that I had for her, though, her whole attitude softened. It was a little awkward pinning the flower on because I'm right handed and in order to hold the flower in place over her heart I had to pin it with my left hand. I was extremely conscious of the fact that I was pressing against her left breast as I struggled to get the flower pinned on. There was a little color rising beneath Amy's skin. "Uh ... you know I'm gay, don't you?" she said when I'd finished. I nodded. Then she slammed her lips against mine and pulled my face hard against her with her left hand. I kept my tongue to myself. When we separated, I wiped my lips, checking for traces of lipstick and bruises. Amy reached to the mantel and rang the bell, then moved over to stand beside Kate. In spite of the fact that she's got almost no butt, she managed to swing it pretty enticingly. I turned in time to see Sandra coming down the hall from the bedroom. The strawberry blonde's dress was fire engine red. It had a scoop neck over a generously cut bodice. The skirt was full, but was pulled up on the left side and tucked into its belt so it was below her knee on the right and upper thigh on the left. Her hair was done to match the dress, all swept up off her neck on the left and hanging below her shoulder on the right. Sandra has lots of curves—most of them in the right places—and she pulled off sexy to the max. When she swings her hips, you'd better duck. She marched up to me, looked me in the eyes, and licked her lips. Then she spun around and walked back to the fireplace. I was wondering when the girls had practiced all this runway stuff and decided they must have waited until I was in the shower. Lissa had to have coached them on their model walk. They acted like professionals. Sandra opened her note and started reading in a dramatic voice. "I'm your third date tonight and I'm red. Red is for fire, lust, and emergency vehicles. [So if your heart stops, I'm your paramedic.]" She grinned toward the hallway. "I've chosen red for our first [Mmmm, let's call it second... ] date. I'm girl number three tonight and you may now lay one on me." I was pretty sure that wasn't what the end of the message said. I approached her and she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, tilting her head toward me. There was nothing demure about this offer. "Are you going to kiss me or eat me?" I asked. Her eyes popped open and she started to pout, then she saw the pink carnation in my hand. It brought a quick smile to her lips and she thrust out her chest for me to pin the flower on. The scoop neckline made it easy to get a grip on the fabric and insert the pin through her corsage. "You opted for a bra, I see," I chuckled. "Honey, these babies don't go anywhere without support." "Oh, I don't know about that," I said. While her eyes shifted to Kate and Amy, I leaned into her and gave her a nice soft kiss. "Hmmm," she sighed. "I hope that's not the only kiss I get tonight." "I hear the whole football team will be at the party, so I wouldn't worry if I were you." She slapped my face, but did it so lightly that it was just a tap, then turned for the bell and walked over to join Kate and Amy. I turned to face the hallway and watch a goddess approach. Lissa's cocktail dress ... I could hardly see it for looking at her eyes. It was a cream tunic that flowed as she walked and clung to her curves when she stopped. In her spiked heels, she was easily four inches taller than me and her bearing was so regal that I couldn't help myself. I knelt on one knee and bowed my head to her, my script forgotten. No matter how she might have instructed the other girls on how to move like a model, Lissa walked in owning the place. Well, she did own the place, but... Fuck! The dress wrapped up over her left shoulder and plunged halfway to her waist after it crossed her right breast. I wanted to stop her right there and paint the diaphanous folds the way they draped and clung to her body. She stopped before me and held out her hand. I took it and placed a kiss on the back of her fingers. She pulled me to a standing position and then without waiting for a speech, just bent her head and kissed me. Really kissed me. When she stood away from me, parts of my body were making to follow her. She stood at the fireplace and faced me, but without reading anything she rang the bell and looked toward the hall. Another goddess appeared. Melody's dress was a perfect match for Lissa's, but in a teal that accented the dark mahogany tones of her hair. The fabric swished around her and if her walk was not as professional as Lissa's, the brightness of her smile made it unnoticeable. I knelt again. She came to me and I kissed her fingers as I had kissed Lissa's and Melody pulled me up into an embrace. I realized that she was wearing a flat sandal that emphasized the difference in their heights. Melody drew me to her and the kiss she gave me sent chills down my spine. When she pulled away from me, she whispered, "I love you," and went to join Lissa. Instead of standing next to each other to say their lines, though, my two girlfriends turned and gave a kiss to each other that was every bit as steamy as the ones they had given me. There was more than one gasp from my left where Kate, Amy, and Sandra were standing. The two girls parted and turned toward me. "We're your last date tonight," they said together. "Cream is the color of my skin, the texture of silk, the warmth of flesh," Lissa whispered, just loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room. "I've chosen to wear cream on my gazillionth date with Tony and Melody." "Teal is the color of my lovers' eyes," Melody said. "Its depth knows no limit like the love we share. I've chosen to wear teal on my gazillion-and-oneth date with Tony and Lissa." I had tears in my eyes as I stepped toward them. In one hand I had a simple sprig of baby's breath to pin on Lissa. In the other hand the blue bell flowers of freesia for Melody. I pinned on Lissa's flower and then Melody's, noting with satisfaction that both had chosen the braless look—and feel. "Melody and Lissa, I am honored each time you consent to be with me. I love you both." We moved forward together and all three kissed. This time I know all three of the other girls gasped. It was probably a first for any of them to see. "I feel like I'm a bridesmaid at a wedding," Kate said. "Ah, but you're dancing with the groom tonight, sweetheart," I said. "Let's go to the party before Bree sends the football team after me." ------- "Ready-down. Hut!" Five very large linemen stepped forward as if to crush me when I walked through the door at Bree and Sam's house. Before they could step further, five extraordinarily beautiful young women stepped in front of me. The football players came to such an abrupt halt that one actually fell over backward. "Now that's what I call an impenetrable line," Sam laughed from nearby. "Welcome to Seattle Cascades University, Tony!" The line scrambled back to their feet and stepped forward to offer their arms and escort the ladies to the welcome table. Obviously Bree had set up the guys for exactly this purpose. She and Sonia approached and each grabbed an arm and led me into the main room of the house where music was playing and people were dancing. There must have been 100 people there. As we were walking in, I saw that each girl had a card with a number on it and they made a big show of displaying it to everyone we passed. "What's with the numbers?" I asked. "All the girls have numbers. That's how the boys will vote to determine who Tony's girlfriend is. We're just walking through and campaigning. The guys took your dates to get their numbers. I'm betting none of them get a single vote." "That's not fair," I said. "No one here knows them." "Don't worry," Sonia added, "as soon as they are seen with you, someone will put two and two together and they'll figure out the girls they don't know are the ones that came with you." "By the way, you already know I'm an all-natural redhead because you saw the evidence in Tempe. But did you notice the halo tattoo I've got on the inside of my left thigh? I just love it when you kiss it." "Bree!" I was a little surprised at hearing this little detail. "Take notes, honey," she said. "You need to remember what every girl says or you'll give away the truth." "You know how I love it from behind," joined in Sonia. "But only my boyfriend gets the backdoor." I was shocked. I'd never done any of that before. I didn't know what to say. "You'd better remember what we tell you," Sonia whispered in my ear. Then she licked it! "Oh Tony, you're here!" A perky Asian girl about as big as my left thumb jumped up and kissed my cheek, deftly shouldering Bree out of the way. "I was so worried you wouldn't get here," she continued, holding her card up for people to see. At about that time, Sonia was dislodged from my other arm and a drop-dead gorgeous black girl who towered over me took my arm and planted a wet kiss on my left cheek. "Oh baby! Thank god you finally got here. These jocks have been hitting on me all night. Let's hit the dance floor and show them how you please your baby." I noticed they were both holding their cards up as we walked toward the dance floor. "If I'm your boyfriend, I should at least know your names," I said quietly. "I'm Rachel," said the little Asian girl. "I'm a gymnast, but since we don't have a gymnastics squad at SCU, I play with the cheerleaders. I can bend over backward and look out between my own legs. I'm so flexible you can put me in just about any position you want." She giggled. I was beginning to get the message. This was going to be a fun night. "My name's almost the same as yours," said the girl on my left. "I'm Tonya, women's basketball. I'm tall enough that I don't have to stand on a phone book to do you standing up." I laughed as all three of us made it to the dance floor. We started rocking out, but it didn't take long before two more girls cut in on Rachel and Tonya who both kissed me again soundly before they parted. Inside of an hour, I'd danced with at least twenty girls. I was thankful that there was no alcohol at this party because I'd never have remembered half of what they told me. Each girl carefully gave me only one important "fact" about herself, usually having a sexual innuendo or promise attached to it. My five dates each got a minute with me, too, and they each included one sexual innuendo. "You're a country-boy, Tony. Don't you love riding horses? For me, going bareback is the only way to do it." Kate said the line so casually and straight that I turned and stared at her. Then she blushed and kissed me quickly on the lips. I noticed she didn't stop holding her card out, no matter how embarrassed she got. "Only one thing I can tell you, honey," Sandra said. "Remember how big my nipples are? I've got something between my legs that's about the same size." Sandra moved my hand down onto her butt with the same hand that her number was held in. The girl was amazing. "I can lick my nose with my tongue," Amy said to me. "You know what that's good for don't you?" I choked on the coke I was drinking. "You know, Amy, I hope you win, tonight. I think you are the only girl here I feel safe with." "Hey! I'm a lesbian; I'm not dead. I'd swallow your cock whole if it meant I could get into Melody's panties." I was with Amy and Lissa together—a situation I think they contrived—when Lissa leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Just tell them you know how to melt the Ice Queen." I laughed to hear her use the nickname that people called her on the circuit. "Besides," she continued, "it's true." A few minutes later, Melody bit my ear and then said, "Just remember, I posed naked for you and it's my ass that decorates the admin building hall." She kissed me hard on the lips. She grinned and winked at me while she held her card up for people to see. ------- I'd noticed that the guys at the party hardly ever spoke to me, but everywhere I looked, several were watching me. It was around 10:30 when I was herded into Coach Jacobson's office. All the guys who could fit in the room were in there and I was pushed down into the desk chair. Then Tim Kost, the basketball captain, started with the questions. "So Tony, about your girlfriend, uh ... what's her name?" He made like he was going to tell me something significant, but it was obvious that he wanted me to give a name. "Which one?" I asked back. All the guys groaned. "So I saw her out back with Deke," one of the football line said. "I wasn't that close, but she was leaning over the porch railing and he looked like he was having some kind of seizure." The guy who spoke made an obscene movement with his hips. I laughed. "Oh man. Sonia does like it from behind. But I don't mind. I know there's certain things back there she keeps just for me." Then the questions started flying. The guys would toss out a situation, ask a question, or name a girl. I had to give out some bit of information that showed I was intimately familiar with the girl. I suspected that nine-tenths of everything I heard that night was made up, but every once in a while someone would make a buzzer sound to indicate that he knew different than I did about the girl in question and she would be eliminated. I thought I did pretty well. My mouth was dry, though, and I needed a Coke before I could answer another question. Bree yelled from the doorway that time was up and everybody had to cast their votes. I escaped and made my way to the refreshment table in time to get a few shrimp off a Costco tray and some kind of skewered thing with a spicy sauce. It was the first time I'd managed to get to the food since I got there. Now that was odd. All night long there had been one or two women hanging off of me. Now there weren't any near. They were around, sure, but no one was paying any attention to me. I could breathe. I looked around nervously, though, trying to spot each of my actual dates and especially my girlfriends. Sandra was out dancing with two huge linemen who were competing for her undivided attention. Amy was near a window and Tonya was towering over her and leaning in rather intimately. Amy did not seem to mind at all. Kate was with Tim and looked like she was having fun. Lissa was talking with Sam as if she was one of the "adults" at the party and talking to the kids was beneath her. It took me a while to spot Melody. She was being blocked by a really good looking dude who was definitely in her personal space. I finally put the face with where I'd seen him before and recognized him as one of the pitchers I'd seen with an icepack on his shoulder. Melody looked uncomfortable. When the guy bent down to kiss her, I broke a land speed record moving toward them. Tim was a step ahead of me, though and before the sound of Melody's slap died, Tim was between them. He spoke quietly to the guy and waved me away. The dude threw up his hands in disgust and marched away. Tim came over to talk to me and I noticed that Melody had headed toward the bathroom with Kate. "He's a jerk," Tim said flatly. "Don't worry, though. There's a few of us in the know and we've been watching out for your dates. Sorry I didn't get there quicker." "Hey, thanks for stepping in. I guess I'd have blown the contest if I'd tipped everybody off that Melody is my girlfriend." "Hey, I didn't know that! I should go change my vote," Tim laughed. "Only I think it's too late. Here comes Bree with the hermetically sealed envelope." I heard a coach's whistle blast out and everybody turned to look at Sam. Bree stepped up beside him and called me over to join her. "Okay, everybody's dying to know who Tony's girlfriend is," Bree announced. "Well, here I am." She kissed me. Mercifully, she kept it brief, but still... "Okay, okay. This isn't about who Tony's girlfriend really is, but about who you all think she is. So the results are right here in this envelope and the winner gets to be Tony's date for the rest of the party." She made a big show of opening the envelope and blowing on it like they do on the Oscars. She pulled the slip out of the envelope and held it up. She scowled. "This can't be right. It says number 71. Sonia, do we have a number 71 here?" "No way, baby," Sonia called back. "There's only 43 girls here according to our official log." "Well that sucks. Who stuffed the ballot box with 71s?" "I did," said a sultry voice across the room. A tall, lean, and totally stacked brunette in a floor-length evening gown glided across the floor holding up a ridiculously large number 71. I joined in the laughter figuring this must be two midgets doing a clown act or something. Then I realized what I was seeing. "Allison? What are you doing here?" "Tony!" She rushed to me and definitely planted a hot kiss on me, pushing those bodacious boobs into my chest. She pulled back and started in on her spiel. "Oh Tony, after that night in Tempe, I haven't been able to think of anything but you. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I just had to come back to you, darling. I'm through with Arnold! I promise I'll never leave you again." "It looks like we've got a winner. Folks, Allison Perkins of Kansas State, Intercollegiate Women's Racquetball competitor. Tony, it looks like we've found your girlfriend." About the time Allison had said she was through with Arnold I'd recovered enough to realize this was an elaborate joke and that suddenly all attention was off of the five women I brought with me to the party. I couldn't help myself. I hugged Allison and told her how happy I was to see her. ------- "What's next?" Allison asked as people left. It was close to midnight and the party was breaking up. People had been leaving steadily since the big reveal. It was time for me to take my dates home. "Slumber party!" Bree squealed. "I think that's my cue to take my ladies home," I laughed. "We'll see you tomorrow, though, right Allison?" There were a lot of looks from girl to girl before anyone answered. "Yeah. You'll see me, I think," Allison grinned. There seemed to be an awful lot of laughter at some secret joke. "Late lunch," Melody said, still giggling. "See you all ... um ... later." The party had been a blast. I'd had a limitless supply of beautiful women hanging on me all night long, each plying me with a sexy secret. Then true to the contest rules, Allison had become my special date for the rest of the party and we'd had a blast dancing and telling people about the sketches of the tournament that were displayed near the TV. Frankly, I was horny as hell. I couldn't get my crew home quickly enough and get my two girlfriends into bed. Was I surprised! ------- About ten minutes after we got in the door, while I was still trying to tactfully suggest that Lissa loan her car to Kate so the others could return to the dorms, Bree pulled into the drive and three more squealing girls came running into the house. I looked at Bree, Sonia, and Allison. "What are you guys doing here?" I asked. Okay, it was after midnight and I was a little slow on the uptake. "We told you," Bree said. "Slumber party." "Here?" It was clear that I'd been left out of the planning for this entire evening. "Everything's downstairs, girls," Lissa said. As everyone was trooping downstairs I heard someone say, "Truth or Dare and there's only one boy in the room!" I stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down, not sure if I wanted to descend into this pit of pheromones. I felt hands on my arms pulling me back from the brink. Melody and Lissa guided me back toward the bedroom. "Yes, we are going to party," Melody said. "And yes, you are invited," Lissa joined, "but it's not what you think." "Well, for that matter it might not be what they think either," Melody laughed. "We haven't arranged an orgy, Tony. There's only four tits and two pussies you get to play with in this house tonight." "As long as they're the ones in this room, that's all I want," I said. Melody and Lissa both kissed me and started getting undressed. I hurried to get out of my clothes and into bed, only to see the girls putting pajamas on. "We can't go to a slumber party naked," Melody said. "At least not at the beginning." "Come on, you," Lissa said. "Get your PJs on." "I don't have any pajamas." "Sweats," Lissa said. "It's only for a little while and then we'll come back up. Watching you at that party with all those girls fawning over you has me all worked up." "Me too," Melody chimed in. "I almost regret inviting everybody over. Come on. Let's go down and have a glass of wine before they drink it all." I followed Lissa and Melody downstairs in time to see all the rest of the girls gathered around the corner I used as a studio. My daybed and drapes were still set up and there were several of my sketches and paintings tacked to the walls. On the other side of the room, Melody's studio was set up and an equal number of her sketches and paintings were posted. "That's it! That's it!" I heard Sandra squeal in the crowd and saw a camera flash go off. "That's just the pose in the painting." I edged into the group with Lissa and Melody and looked at the daybed setting. Kate was stretched out on the bed in a very good imitation of the pose I'd painted in the mural. God! She was beautiful in a little pajama shirt that buttoned up the front and shorty pants. I'd seen her legs for the first time earlier in the evening when she wore her party dress, but what she was exposing here was all new territory. A camera flashed again and Kate saw us standing with everyone around. "Do me next, Tony?" Kate husked. I wondered how many glasses of wine she'd had already. "Oh you know me, Kate," I said ignoring her double entendre. "I only paint nudes." Never in a hundred years would I have anticipated what quiet, demure, shy Kate did next. Moving only her right hand, she calmly unbuttoned her pajama top and let it fall open. Oh my fucking god! I knew Kate was a beautiful and exotic looking girl, but she captured something in that pose being partially exposed that I hadn't even considered before. There was a casual seduction in the way she looked at me that just stopped me cold. Her shirt gapped open, leaving her left breast mostly covered as the fabric on the other side slid off her right breast and shoulder pooling in the crook of her arm. I felt a hand in the middle of my back pushing me forward and someone shoved my sketchbook and graphite into my hand. I sank down on the floor right there and started to draw. Kate had taken her hair down out of the dancer's bun she wore to the party and it hung down over her left shoulder and onto the pajama top. I didn't realize how long her black hair was. The purple polish on her nails just screamed out at me as her left hand was draped off the back of the cushions she leaned against. Her one exposed breast was enough to make me want to see the rest of her. She had a slightly oval areola and small nipple that was hard and prominent perched on a perfectly rounded breast that faded in a smooth arc to her tummy. There was a natural path from the valley of her breasts, down across her sternum and plunging into the darkness of her navel. It continued in fine dark hair until it disappeared beneath the waistband of her shorts. I whispered, "Wait. Don't move," as I got up to re-arrange my drapes. I pulled more fabric down until it created great waves of material all around her, being careful not to let it occlude the shape that I'd already laid in. I didn't want to stop and Kate's eyes never left mine. I kept filling in more detail when I returned to my seat on the floor. The concave where her pelvis stood out from her thin frame. The folds of the fabric piled around her. The individual strands of her hair. The depth of her eyes. The nonchalant smile. I took as long as possible, just so I could continue to stare at this beautiful creature. Eventually, though, I had to say it was finished and stood up. Kate snatched her pajama shirt closed and suddenly turned beet red as she buttoned up her shirt. "I can't believe I just did that," she whispered. "Oh my god. I can't believe it." "Yeah, that's right where I lost my virginity, too," Melody said taking the drawing to Kate. "Well, I didn't exactly lose it. I sort of wrapped it in a bow and made a present out of it." The girls laughed. "Yeah," I said. "Only without the bow." "Me next, Tony." "Me! I want a picture." "No it's my turn." I couldn't keep track of who was talking, but apparently they thought I was going to sketch everyone tonight. No way! "I'm not a fucking factory, ladies," I yelled. "That pose just happened to be right. I can't manufacture those one after another. Believe me, I've got nothing against seeing each and every one of you naked in my studio, but I can't do any more tonight. I haven't even had a glass of wine yet." There were generally disappointed noises, but someone handed me a glass of wine and the Bree said, "How about a fun little slumber party game before poor worn out Tony has to go to bed?" My sense of foreboding skyrocketed. ------- "All right," Lissa said. "First of all, Tony, relax. Melody and I have completely agreed on this game, so all you have to do is enjoy it." "You see," Melody said, "all our friends here are lonely and a little scared of the dark. We're all going to be down here in this big room by ourselves tonight and we just want a little kiss goodnight." "You wouldn't deny us a goodnight kiss, would you?" Bree asked. "I mean here we are, all in our jammies, ready to be tucked into bed and we just want one little kiss." "Each," Sonia hurriedly added. "Think of poor Allison, Tony. She came all the way out here from Kansas to see you. You wouldn't make her go to bed without a goodnight kiss, would you?" "And you practically made love to Kate for the past half hour," Amy said. "But you haven't even kissed her. Just one little goodnight kiss. Please, Tony?" I could see that I was going to be bombarded like this until I gave in and since Melody and Lissa said they'd agreed, who was I to deny these poor girls a goodnight kiss? It's not like it was unappealing. "Okay," I said. "One little goodnight kiss." "Each," repeated Sonia. "Each," I agreed. "Oh. There's just one thing, Tony," Lissa said. She stepped up to me and held out a black scarf. "You get to be blindfolded. Your hands have to stay behind your back. And you have to guess who just kissed you after each kiss." Oh. Oh crap! I thought I'd just give a little friendly peck and be done, but this was going to be difficult. Lissa moved behind me and tied the blindfold on my face. Dang. She was good at this and I couldn't see a thing. "Okay, girls. Line up. No talking and once you've had your kiss, get back in the line where you were. Oh yes. And the bell. Where's the bell?" Someone rang the bell I'd heard several times earlier in the evening. "There's a strict time limit," Lissa continued. "No longer than one minute per kiss." A minute? As in 60 seconds? That was never long enough with Lissa or Melody, for sure, but you could do some serious damn kissing in a minute. I wasn't going to get away with a peck on the cheek. "Okay. Hands behind your back, Tony. You can only use your mouth. Ready, girls?" I stood there silently for what could have been an eternity but was probably ten seconds. Then I felt a presence closing in on me before I felt lips on my lips. It started softly, but there was a tongue probing at my mouth in no time and as I opened my mouth a bit to respond, I was nearly devoured. There was almost no lip involved in this kiss at all. It was all wide open mouth and tongue probing as deeply into my mouth as it could reach and enticing me to follow it. The kiss was so active that I was getting tired by the time the bell rang and she pulled away. I shifted my weight around a little because I could tell I was becoming aroused. Ah hell. They had to know I was going to get aroused doing this. I was keeping my hands behind my back and if they all wanted to look at my hard-on, I wasn't going to stop them. "Who was it?" "Um ... that would be Sandra. Yeah. Most definitely Sandra." "Aww!" I heard from my left. "I knew I should have stood on a chair!" Everybody laughed. "Okay, next," Lissa said. There was no hesitation or osculatory foreplay with this kiss. The girl walked up to me, put both hands on the side of my head to position it where she wanted it and mashed her lips against mine. Her tongue probed my mouth in quick darting motions that led me on a chase around both our oral cavities. On top of that, she'd moved in close enough that her chest was mashed against mine and I was sure she could feel my cock pressed into her thigh. She kissed with a single-minded determination that blew my socks off. It wasn't like it was loving, or wanton. It was pure, raw oral satisfaction. When the bell rang I was gasping for breath. "Damn!" There was a lot of laughter. "I guess ... I think that was ... maybe Allison?" There were a few titters, but no one was letting the cat out of the bag. "Could I have a drink of water?" I asked. A moment later I had a cold bottle of water in my hands and took a long drink. That last kiss pretty much sucked all the fluid out of my body. After I'd cleansed my palette, I set the bottle down and returned to my receiving position with my hands behind my back. The next kiss was tender and playful. There were soft lips and plenty of tongue. But there were also teeth, nipping at my tongue and lips. There was a moment when my lower lip was sucked into her lips and pulled out before she let go and returned to a passionate and intense lip lock. This wasn't a kiss, it was foreplay. Just before the bell, she ground her pelvis into my cock and I thought I heard a whimper through the kiss. There was no doubt in my mind whatsoever. As she pulled away from me I whispered, "I love you, Lissa." Then I announced to the room, "That was definitely Lissa." There was another round of "awww" and "oh that's so sweet." Hmm. No one seemed surprised that I'd know Lissa's kiss that well. Had we told everyone here? Well, maybe they had. There was no way eight girls would be here for a sleep-over and not know the three of us were together. I took another quick drink and got ready for round four. The next girl was like an instant replay, right down to the whimper at the end of the kiss and the crotch grind against my cock. Shit! Did they do that on purpose? Would Lissa come through the line twice? No that had to be against the rules, or there was no point in the game. But, damn! Now what was I going to do. I started going through the list in my head in order of height. If you put Sandra at the shortest end and Lissa at the tallest, where did this girl fit? Well, definitely at the tall end. So who else was at that end? There'd be Lissa, Allison, Kate, and Amy. On the short end going up, Sandra, Melody, Bree, and Sonia. Damn it! Had I misidentified Lissa? Then I thought of Kate, mimicking Lissa's position on the daybed while I sketched her. Kate. That had to be it. "Kate," I said at last. There was silence. Before I knew it my head was being pulled down into another sensuous kiss. I'd never considered before just how incredible kissing was. Oh, I loved it, no question about that. But how often do you get a chance to compare and contrast the kisses of eight different women in a row. This kiss made me smile. It was just soft and dreamy and sensuous. The tongue play wasn't aggressive or hungry, but a natural extension of the lips. I just wanted to live in this kiss and I was really disappointed when I heard the bell. "I love you, Melody," I called after the girl. That brought a round of laughter, but there were no comments. I grabbed a drink and awaited the next round. The next kiss was tentative—almost shy. I felt like a 15-year-old at a school dance. I was painfully aware of my erection and was trying not to bump it into her. Her first taste of my lips was soft and hesitant. She pulled away as if tasting the feeling to see if she liked it. The next was a little more firm, but still that underlying current of explore and remember. There was the tiniest lick across my lips. Instead of pushing my tongue out to meet her, I just let my lips part a little to give her access. She seemed to like that and pressed forward, but before we got too engaged, the bell rang. My heart was beating a thousand times a minute. Geez! I did not want that kiss to end. I was standing there thinking that next time we'd have more time. Then I realized I had to put a name to the kiss. There were only Sonia, Bree, and Amy left. Amy would sure never kiss like that. I just had a feeling that Bree wouldn't be so hesitant and this girl felt a little taller than the short redhead. It had to be... "Sonia?" I said at last. God, I hoped it was Sonia. The next lips that found mine were dry. They were soft, but there was no indication that she was interested in anything more than a little peck. This had to be Amy. I decided to have a little fun and quickly ran my tongue across her lips. She jumped back with a little squeak and then stepped away. I chuckled. "Sorry, Amy," I said with a chuckle. That got a good laugh. Well, that only left one more girl—Bree. I decided that here I was blindfolded and couldn't be held accountable for my actions, so I might as well just enjoy this last kiss. And boy did I! It was a confident kiss. This girl knew what she wanted and was determined to get it. Her lips were passionate. There was no hesitancy in mashing her tits against my chest or grinding her pussy against my erection. Her arms went around my neck and her tongue came into my mouth. It swept across my teeth between my gums and my upper lip in a move I instantly recognized. Oh my god! I made a mistake. A big one. I had to break off the kiss myself because I was about to come in my sweats. I was pretty sure there was already a wet spot on the front from all the pre I'd been leaking since the second kiss, but this was seriously dangerous. I was gasping and couldn't catch my breath. I didn't even try to guess. I just stripped off the blindfold and stared into Melody's eyes. Before she could say anything, I pulled her to me and kissed her again. By the time I let her go, she was gasping for breath as well. "Don't think I'm ever going to forgive you for that, mister," she growled in false ire. "If you had called out 'Bree' after that kiss you'd have slept alone tonight. You just might anyway." I pulled her to me in a hug. "I love you, darling. I don't know how I got fooled." "Well, that wasn't the only one." I looked at the lineup. Each girl was holding a sheet of paper with a name on it in the order that I'd identified them. But only two of the names were with the right girl. I was correct with Sandra, but was blown away by the fact that Amy was standing next to her with a sign that said "Allison." "That kiss was you?" I shrieked. She grinned. "What? You thought lesbians couldn't kiss?" "I am seriously considering converting," I laughed. I looked down the line to Sonia who was holding up Amy's name. "You were, so..." "Um ... I kinda have a boyfriend," Sonia said. "I don't think he'd be too happy if I was kissing another guy. It was nice, though." I was relieved to see that I'd guessed Lissa right. If I'd screwed up both my girlfriends, I would have to leave in shame. Of course, it was Bree who had kissed me with such tender passion that I thought it was Melody. What surprised me most, though was that it was Allison who had so carefully mimicked Lissa and that soft tentative kiss that made me want to go on forever was ... Kate. She was still looking into my eyes as if I'd never stopped drawing her. Oh my god. "Okay, girls. Tony kissed everyone goodnight, now he has to go to bed," Melody said. "Hey, aren't you coming?" I asked. "Not yet," Melody said with a twinkle in her eye. "Lissa and I promised the girls a bedtime story, and believe me you don't want to stay for this one." I had a feeling I was going to be embarrassed again. "Go on to bed, darling," Lissa whispered as she kissed my cheek. "We'll be up soon." I did as instructed—brushed my teeth, drank about a gallon of water, and slipped naked into our bed. I was thinking about all the different, wonderful kinds of kisses I'd just experienced when I drifted off to sleep—a haunting pair of deep brown eyes still gazing into mine. ------- Chapter 13 I was having a wonderfully delicious and naughty dream. Bree and Allison had followed me to the big bed after passing me around to be kissed soundly by an entire harem of beautiful girls. Hands were running all over my body and my cock was fully erect and ready to explode. My lips were being covered with kisses. Tongues played in my mouth and dared my tongue to chase them. And then I felt lips on my erection. Lips and tongue and warm silky depths of her mouth taking me in. Bree and Allison faded away as I watched Kate with her dark brown eyes looking up at me as she made love to my cock. I was near. I tried to warn her, but I wanted her so badly that... Impending orgasm brought me out of sleep and I opened my eyes. The room was dark and silent save for the little slurping noises that Kate was making on my cock. I jumped away in the bed, scrambling out of her hands, coming fully awake as I shouted out, "No! Can't! Girlfriends ... Melody ... Lissa. Please stop!" The bathroom door opened and in the light I saw Lissa rush into the room—coming toward the bed. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know ... I didn't mean..." The covers were being pulled back as Lissa pulled me to her in a hug. Pulled me against her beautiful breasts that I'd just betrayed. Melody finally struggled out from under the covers at my waist looking at me with surprise and disappointment on her face. "Was I that bad?" "Melody! Oh my god. I thought..." I couldn't go on. I just reached for her and pulled my two beautiful lovers into my arms. My lovers. Not Bree or Allison or Kate. My heart began to slow down but I was still having trouble catching my breath. "Oh god ... I thought it was..." I stopped, not wanting to say what I thought. "I was dreaming. I had a nightmare." The two girls petted and soothed me with words like there-there and it's-okay. But I knew it wasn't really okay. Yes, I'd been passed from girl to girl for a kissing contest and I was hyper-aroused when I went to bed, but I shouldn't be fantasizing about other girls when I had the two most beautiful women I'd ever known hugging me from either side and sharing my bed every night. "I sure didn't think I'd give you a nightmare waking you up like that," Melody pouted. "What was I? A giant anaconda swallowing your prick?" "No you were..." Maybe it was stupid of me. It was only a dream. But it had been so real that even with my arms around my girlfriends, I was still shaking. I softly kissed Lissa's breast, against which my face was still cradled, and then squeezed Melody up toward me so I could kiss the top of her head. "I was cheating on you." Both my lovers pulled away from me and turned to stare me in the face. I'd done it. I was so ashamed. "You were having a nightmare that you cheated on us in your dream?" Lissa asked. A smile played across both their faces as they looked at me and then at each other. "Oh Tony. Is it any wonder that we love you so much? Only a man who loves us like you do would interrupt a blow job because he was dreaming it was someone else!" Both Melody and Lissa started giggling. It was obvious that they just didn't understand. "But it was so real. It wasn't just that I was having a fantasy, I thought it was really happening." "Well, that's because you were giving me a tonsillectomy with your cock," Melody laughed. "That part was real. Now I want to know about the rest of this cheating dream. It wasn't Bree was it?" There was just a hint of menace in that question. "No," I answered quickly. "At least, not at the end. It started out with everyone. Do you two know what you did to me tonight? I just had eight mind-blowing kisses from eight incredibly beautiful women who were competing to see ... I don't know ... it seemed like they were competing to be like you two. To be you." "Well, that was certainly the case with a couple of them," Lissa agreed. "But it was all in good fun. We thought you'd get a charge out of it and then we'd come upstairs and benefit from how turned on you'd be." "Well, I guess you were right about that. If I hadn't fallen asleep..." "You should have seen how Allison watched Lissa kiss you," Melody broke in. "That girl was definitely taking lessons." "I thought she'd join us at one point," Lissa laughed. "I could feel her breath on the back of my shoulder. She was determined that she'd get you to say she was me." "She's a quick study," I snorted, finally beginning to relax. "For a while I was panicked that I'd just told someone else that I loved her and that you were the second kisser. Then I thought about how..." I wasn't sure I wanted to go there, but I decided to plunge ahead. " ... how Kate was imitating you on the daybed while I sketched." "That was incredible," Melody said. "I've always liked Kate, but she seemed so distant from everyone here. She is seriously hot. I knew she was going to pull something." "Well, I thought maybe she was the one trying to imitate Lissa. Then when she really did kiss me..." "Did you see the wet spot on her pajamas?" Lissa giggled. "That girl has a serious crush on you." "Huh?" "All the girls down there are our friends," Melody explained. "But there are really only two that I'd go any further with—Kate and Allison. Ever since Kate watched you paint, she's been in awe of you." "And..." Lissa said, but halted. She glanced away with a little smile. "Yeah," Melody continued. "I saw that." "Saw what?" I asked. "Saw Kate kiss Lissa goodnight when we came upstairs. We all had a little smooch-fest downstairs after Lissa and I finished our story, but most of them were just little cheek kisses or girl kisses. Kate's kiss was serious." "Ahem," Lissa cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow at Melody. "Yeah. Both of us," Melody said. "Kate? Kissed both of you?" "Oh yes," Lissa breathed. "It wasn't inappropriate..." " ... but it held promise." "I think I'm getting hard again." "Want us to go get her?" "I could just close my eyes." That got me a little slap on the shoulder, but I was close to being smothered by kisses and Melody was leaving a trail of them down my chest on the way to resuming what I'd interrupted. By the time she had me fully in her mouth, I had my mouth full of a very juicy Lissa. Mmmm. I guess girls have fantasies, too. ------- We slept in Sunday morning. When I woke up, I was snuggled between my lovers and wouldn't have moved if it weren't for my full bladder. It had been a highly charged night filled with doubts and unusual stimuli, but in the light of morning I could see that I had exactly what I wanted lying next to me. I wormed my way out of bed. Watching Lissa and Melody was like watching the wake behind a passing ship. They just flowed toward each other into the space I'd vacated. In a second, you couldn't tell I'd ever been in the bed as they were wrapped in each other's arms, still sound asleep. I was so much in love it hurt. After I'd finished in the bathroom, I decided not to disturb the vision of tranquility in my bed. Instead, I padded to the kitchen to make coffee and surprise them. As I was on my way out the door, I saw our pajamas and my sweats on the floor and was reminded that there were six other women asleep in the house. I pulled on my sweatpants before I emerged from the bedroom. The house was quiet, so I grabbed the Sunday paper from the front steps and relaxed at the breakfast bar with my coffee. I'd just finished "Dilbert" when a hand caressed my shoulder and there was a light kiss on the back of my head. I smiled, then was startled when Allison stepped around me and reached for a cup to pour herself coffee. "You done with the comics?" she asked. I smiled and handed them to her. She was still in her version of pajamas which consisted entirely of a short nightie and bright blue bikini panties. I admired her shape—the musculature of her legs was sharply defined. She hadn't done well in the Intercollegiate, but she was definitely a strong athlete. She wiggled her butt at me and laughed. "I'm still going to get a finished drawing out of you before I leave," she said, "so you'll get to—how'd you put it last night?—see more of me." "Oh, you're terrible," I said, leering at her. "I still can't believe you came all the way out here for this silly party. But I'm glad you did. It's really great to see you." "That's sweet, but I didn't come just for the party. Didn't you know?" "Uh ... know what?" "I'm working out with you this week to prep for National Singles. Lissa said you needed more variety in your training and she couldn't coach while she was playing. She didn't have enough good players to challenge you so I volunteered." "What about school? You aren't cutting out are you?" "We're in the middle of an agricultural area. Spring semester finals are next week, but I don't have a single class with a final, so I'm free as a bird. I'm not going to summer quarter. I start my summer job in two weeks." "So I'm going to play with you this week?" Shit! I didn't mean to say it quite like that. She poked her tongue between her lips and held it between her teeth as she looked at me. It was a very sexy look. "Maybe," she said coyly. I didn't want to press this issue. I was definitely going to have to watch myself if Allison was going to be around all week. Fortunately two more of the lovely beauties from downstairs appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Coffee?" croaked Amy. I pointed to the pot. I needed to put another on and I filled the kettle to bring it to a boil. I'd forgotten there were so many people who'd want to wake up this morning. I'd have to make several pots. Amy was the only one of the girls I'd seen last night who wore what I considered pajamas. They had full length pants and a short-sleeved button shirt. Don't think they weren't sexy, though. The silky fabric clung to every curve on the girl—tightly enough that I could verify there was nothing under them but skin. She raised the pot toward Sonia and asked, "You?" "Don't drink it," Sonia responded. She looked at me and smiled, pointing a finger at me. "Boys do not see me looking like this, understand?" I grinned and nodded. Her blonde hair was sticking out on one side. She had crib-face and her eyes were a little puffy. But Sonia is a classic Scandinavian beauty. I don't think you could make her look unattractive. The fact that her baby-doll pajama top and matching panties exposed both her cheeks didn't hurt. "That's too bad," I answered. "Boys would be falling over each other to see you like this." "Oh you. Is there juice?" I pulled the various juices out of the refrigerator and pointed her to the cabinet with glasses in it. Then I watched as she stood on tiptoe to reach up into said cupboard. Her top rode even further up. Wow! What an ass. Amy reached over from where she was standing and softly patted the object in question. I figured fireworks would explode, but Sonia, glass in hand, just relaxed toward her and planted a firm kiss on Amy's lips. "Morning," she said. "Uh ... I thought you had a boyfriend ... you mentioned ... last night ... about kissing..." I stumbled in surprise. "Oh, he wouldn't mind me kissing a girl—just not another boy," Sonia smiled. "As long as I tell him about it afterwards." "Great! The object of another male fantasy," Amy growled. Four hands attacked my ribs and I jerked around to find Sandra and Bree trying to tickle me into fits. I squeaked a bit and ducked away from them, but not before Sandra pinched my ass. "Fine!" Melody exploded from the kitchen door. "We can't leave him alone with six sexy girls for a minute!" There was a fit of giggling from the girls and Bree and Sandra both snapped to attention with their hands behind their backs as if nothing was happening. The result of this action was to thrust two prominent bosoms into the fore. Sandra wore a flannel nightgown that came all the way to the floor, but by the way things continued to move after she stood still, I was forced to surmise that she wasn't wearing the support that her girls usually had. The t-shirt that Bree wore to sleep in barely covered her pussy and was so thin that her pointy little nipples were clearly visible. I was thinking about the trimmed patch of red hair that would probably be visible if she just stretched up a bit. I'd just poured two cups of fresh coffee for my lovers when another voice broke in. "Do you have any tea?" Kate asked. My head involuntarily snapped toward her at the sound of her voice. Unlike any of the rest of the girls, Kate's hair was neatly brushed and pulled back in her customary ponytail. She was wearing a t-shirt and her bib overalls, but barefoot, I could still see her purple toenail polish. "Hey. You got dressed," I said involuntarily. I hoped I didn't sound as disappointed as I felt. "What? Didn't you see enough last night?" she asked. Shit. Busted. "There's tea on the counter and mugs by the coffee pot," Lissa said. "Tony, be a sweetie. We're going to need more hot water. Please?" "Yeah, I'm all about being in hot water," I said as I refilled the teakettle again. "If we're going to have all these girls living with us, we're going to need a bigger coffee pot and teakettle." "In your dreams!" "Live with you?" "Not unless you grow a vagina!" "Who said anything about them living with us?" Melody finally overrode the cacophony. "Don't get your hopes up. It was only a dream." I flushed at the allusion to my panicked awakening in the middle of the night. Yeah, but it had been a hell of a dream. I heaved a big sigh as though I was much put-upon. "Well, that's a relief," I said. "I was beginning to worry that I didn't have a big enough Daytimer." ------- The morning was casual and no one other than Kate seemed anxious to get dressed. The party wasn't over. I was a little worried because I'd thought of a few things I still wanted to pull together for my portfolio and I was counting on some time today to do it. Lissa put three frozen quiches in the oven and tasked me with frying up a couple dozen chicken breakfast sausages. She pulled a big tray of fruit out of the refrigerator and put it on the counter. No one made a move toward the dining room and we ended up all standing around the kitchen eating and joking. I endured several jabs about real men and quiche. Thankfully, the girls cleaned up the breakfast mess in about five minutes and all retreated to the basement, leaving me alone with my project. I could hear various giggles waft up the stairs occasionally, but inside a little more than an hour, I was feeling good about the improvement over what Prof. McIntyre had seen on Wednesday. My final project for Fundamentals was even looking good and I added it to my portfolio thinking that I'd review it one more time before I turned it in. I was looking it over when Lissa called to me from the basement. "Tony. Do you have time to do another sketch for us? Just one, please?" What the hell. I was caught up and pleased with my portfolio. There were eight gorgeous girls downstairs and with luck one of them would get naked while I sketched her. Why not? "I'll be right there," I called down. I used the bathroom and picked up my music player and headset from the bedroom. If I was going to do a serious sketch, I was going to have to block out all the giggling and laughing that the other girls would be doing while I was working. I couldn't count on them to be quiet through another whole sketch like last night. I bounced down the stairs, scanning through my playlists and was all the way into the room before I realized all the girls were in the corner where Melody usually worked, complete with her lights turned on. I turned around and was faced by nine gloriously naked or nearly naked girls posed as if in the midst of a bacchanalia. Plates full of fruit were strategically placed. The daybed and my drapes had been moved into the corner, huge pillows were scattered on the floor and each girl was posed to create a delicious tableau. Wait. Nine? My mind had jumped to the number before my brain had caught up. Kneeling behind the bed—apparently up on a chair to get the right height—Wendy, our waitress from Carmine's was offering a bunch of grapes to Kate who was stretched out luxuriously on the bed. On either side, Lissa and Allison were poised, ready to serve, one with a ewer and one with a tray of bread and cheese. Melody and Bree were positioned on pillows in front of the bed with their legs curled under them, looking at Kate's face. Just behind Wendy's left shoulder, Amy and Sonia were pressed closely enough together that their breasts were just touching and they were looking into each other's eyes. Sandra knelt at the head of the bed brushing Kate's hair. I was speechless. "Will this work, Tony?" Melody asked sweetly. "Oh god, yes!" I practically shouted. "Let me grab my things." "If you go grabbing your things, we all want to watch," Allison snarked. "Yeah, yeah," I said, too engrossed in composing the scene in my mind to respond. "Are you all comfortable enough to hold those positions for a while? It could take me a bit to get all the ... um ... details in." "We marked everyone's positions and took a reference photo on a timer. We should be able to take a break in half an hour and still get back into position," Lissa explained. "We've been working on this scene for an hour." "Great. This is great. Sandra, I need you to shift to your left just a little. Can you do that?" "Sure." "Amy and Sonia, you are just a little too close to the other action. I want you lost in your own world. You have room to move further back, don't you? Almost to the wall." "Sure, Tony," Amy said. "And don't worry about us getting lost in our own world. We will be." There was a giggle from all the girls and heads turned slightly to watch Amy and Sonia scoot back and Amy reach over to peck Sonia on the lips. "When I get to you, I'm going to want that little move, Amy. Remember it. Uh ... the action pieces. Wendy ... um ... it's good to ... uh ... see you." "It's probably the last time I'll ever flirt with a customer," she laughed. "Oh god, I can't believe I'm doing this." "Could you straighten up just a little? From here it looks like you are about to fall over onto Kate." "Sure." "Allison and Lissa, I'm most worried about you two. The position of the tray and ewer are nice, but it's hard to hold an action pose like that, even for gorgeous athletes. I think it should be a little more relaxed. Allison, lower the pitcher to rest it against your hip. Get it comfortable so it doesn't strain your arm. You are attentive and ready to serve, but not swinging the racquet yet." "Got it. Gee, I had no idea this was so hard." "Lissa," I continued. "Same thing goes for you about being ready, but not being in action yet. Here." I grabbed the table I'd used as a prop for the candle and fruit in my first drawing and moved it over next to Lissa, careful not to block the luscious curve of her ass with the cloth on the table. I moved the bread and cheese tray to the table and repositioned Lissa with her head up and just her fingertips resting lightly on the loaf of bread. I took the opportunity to trail my fingers down her back and across her ass. "I don't think artists are supposed to touch the models like that, are they?" Lissa asked innocently. There was a quick burst of laughter and then everyone straightened back into their places and forced the smiles off their faces. Just three more people. "Okay. Speaking of unnecessary touching," I said, moving to Melody and Bree. "You two are beautiful, but you look like you're afraid of each other. Sweetheart, scoot in toward Bree. I want your positions to be perfectly matched like you're twins in an interlocking puzzle. Bree, this leg out just a little more so Melody can fit hers into the crook. Good. Cheat just a little this direction, Mel. Left hand on her waist. No, lower ... on her hip. Bree, reach out with your left hand and take Kate's right hand. Rest them on the edge of the bed so you don't have to work on holding them up. Perfect." I stepped away from the tableau to my easel. I put a 24 by 36 inch pad of Bristol Vellum on the easel and looked back and forth between the scene and my paper. One more thing. "Kate," I said softly. She looked up at me expectantly. I just repeated a gesture she'd used a few weeks ago, but in reverse. I pointed two fingers at her eyes and then pulled them back toward my own. She smiled. I swear, I've never seen a smile like hers. "Okay, everybody relax into your positions. I'm going to take a new reference photo. Ready?" I clicked off about five shots from slightly different positions and then sat at the easel. "Twenty minutes and then we'll take a break," I said. I put my headset on and pressed play. I slipped a pad of newsprint in front of the Bristol and tore through half a dozen warm-up drawings in five minutes. Then I started getting serious. ------- It took three more 30-minute poses interspersed with 15-minute breaks before I was satisfied that I'd captured what I needed. Kate's focus never wavered from my eyes. Everyone else was focused on her except Amy and Sonia. With just the nipples of their upstage breasts touching each other and Amy's lips on Sonia's cheek as the blonde looked up at her, they provided a counterpoint to the intense scene in the foreground. I looked back and forth from my sketch to the tableau as Adele crooned "Take It All" sexily in my ears. Everything I do is for you But go on, go on and take it Take it all with you I let myself simply take in the beauty of each girl in front of me and for the first time this afternoon I felt myself swell in my pants. I shifted my position a little to hide the tumescence and breathed a huge sigh. "That's it, ladies. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted." Everyone relaxed and started moving toward me to look at the drawing. I noticed that not one girl bothered to dress or cover up. In fact, as I watched them come toward me, Kate was still intensely looking at me with a little smile on her face. She stood straight and regal as she paused a few feet away and repeated our little gesture. Only this time, she pointed her two fingers at my eyes and then back not to her eyes, but to her breasts. Oh, wow! Then she giggled, blushed, and rushed to join the other girls pressing in around the drawing. Everyone was very complimentary and I got a very personal, very naked hug from each of the nine girls. So much for hiding my erection. "Tony, I know it's only three, but why don't you go get us refreshments from upstairs. There should be Belini makings for ten. I'd send someone else, but you are the only one who's dressed." "Yeah, I noticed," I sighed. They all giggled and Melody pushed my ass toward the stairs. I don't get aroused while I'm actually painting. There's too much to focus on. I don't see tits, I see shadows and highlights. I see contrasts and colors. I see the light playing across hills and valleys, folds and drapes, foreground and background. But when I stop drawing and just look at the subject to enjoy it, it has a whole different impact. And yes, it's physically exciting. It wasn't a scene or tableau. It was nine unspeakably beautiful women displaying their naked charms for my benefit. ------- When I returned to the lower level bearing two bottles of Prosecco, a bottle of peach juice, and the required ten glasses, the first thing I noticed was that no one had dressed. At least not in clothes. Melody had produced a dozen strips of fabric and the girls were busy draping them partially over their bodies, apparently making sure that their most delectable bits stayed exposed. The tableau setting had been rearranged and it looked like they were getting ready for another sketch. I groaned inwardly. I'd worked for two and a half hours on the last one and I couldn't believe the girls wanted to go through the agony of posing again. The girls descended on me as I poured the Bellinis. Each one coyly took the cocktail and kissed me on the cheek, including Melody and Lissa. I poured my own and we raised a toast. "Here's to all our new friends and models," Melody said. "Here's to naked art parties," Bree seconded. Everyone laughed. "No kidding," Sonia added. "I've never been to a naked slumber party before. If you're naked at an athletic party, you're in deep shit." "There's only one problem," Lissa said. Everyone looked at her expectantly. "Someone here is way overdressed." Everyone turned to me. I know I got red. My erection hadn't completely died from the last round of getting kissed. It had been all I could do to keep my hands still. "Ohhhh," I groaned. "Is this going to be another 'embarrass Tony' moment?" "Just go behind the curtain like a good art model and get undressed. Then come back out here and we'll get you in costume," Melody said. "These sheets are costumes?" "You'll see." I obediently went back behind the drapes and shed my sweats. That took about a second. I looked down at my cock. It didn't make any difference if it was up or down; I was going to be embarrassed. Oh well. I took another drink and walked out as casually as I could. They didn't stare. Well, not all of them. At least not all at once. Melody and Lissa came over and held out a length of red fabric. They draped it over my right shoulder so that it hung down to the top of my right thigh. Like the girls, however, it didn't really cover anything. Everyone examined it critically and then Amy stepped over and pulled it down a little further until it came to about mid-thigh. I was a little nervous when Sandra approached with a pair of scissors, but she stepped behind me and cut off the back of the sheet at the same length as the front. I don't think anyone noticed that the whole time she was supposedly cutting the fabric, she had one hand squeezing my bare ass. Two strips were cut from the scrap and Allison grabbed one to tie the sheet in a bunch at my shoulder. Kate brought the other one and put it around my waist. She was enjoying rubbing my skin front and back, too, and it was becoming obvious that I was enjoying it. "Hey Melody, does that thing ever go down?" Bree asked. "Not if you don't fuck with it," Melody answered promptly. This elicited a bunch of groans, including one from me. "Okay," Sandra said as she tugged me toward the rearranged daybed. "This is scene two." She pushed me down on the bed. For a minute I thought she was going to jump on top of me, but she restrained herself. "I can't draw if I'm in the scene," I said matter-of-factly. Certainly they would see the logic of that statement. "Are you totally oblivious to the fact that there are four other artists in this room?" Amy demanded. "Come on, Tony. We need a model for our portfolios, too." "If you draw me with an erection, they won't let you enter it in the student exhibition, so just settle down, okay?" I laughed. Okay, I was on this side of the easel again. That's where this adventure started, if I remembered correctly. But the likelihood that my boner was going away anytime soon was pretty remote. After Sandra got me pretty much in place—facing the opposite direction that Kate had been—Allison slid her pretty ass in under my head. I was suddenly looking up at her very erect nipple. "Get your tongue in your mouth, Tony," Lissa laughed. "Just because she kisses like me, doesn't mean she is me." Oh geez! Things got harder, so to speak, when Wendy stretched out behind me on the bed and was propped up on various pillows. Her head was up against Allison, so her boobs were pretty much in my ear. "Better view than last Friday?" she asked. "I'm finding it hard to believe you're here doing this," I answered. "For real. I thought I was just kidding around and teasing a nice young guy while his girlfriend's back was turned. Then she calls me." "Which one?" "Melody. She invited me over to see the mural you painted before she asked me to come and pose. Wow." "Glad you came?" "I haven't yet, but if you move your elbow a little, I might." I looked up past Allison's boob at Wendy's face and both girls broke up laughing. "Tony, no tickling the models," Amy said as she positioned Sonia. Sonia sat on the end board of the bed leaning across Allison's left shoulder so she could see me. Finally, Kate got Bree settled in front of me in a mirror reflection of where she was in the first sketch. She was leaning on me with her arm crooked across my thigh looking directly up past my cock at me. When I looked at her she pointedly looked at my cock and then licked her lips. I closed my eyes and shook my head. Then the damn girl blew on me. "Behave yourself!" I reproached her quietly. She just grinned at me. After a few more minutes, the artists agreed upon where each person should be looking and the reference photo was taken. I was definitely going to get a print of that for my private collection. "Hmmm. Four artists and five models. The room is full," Lissa said. "I think that leaves me to go make arrangements for dinner." "You can't get dressed, though," Melody yelled. "Yes, dear," she laughed. "May I put a robe on when the delivery boy gets here?" "I suppose, but you should check to see if he's cute, first," Melody teased. "Or she," Amy yelled. "Ladies, can we draw now?" Kate interjected. There was sudden silence in the room. I looked at the artists at work and wondered what our scene looked like through their eyes. Kate glanced up at me and then at the other artists. Her eyes came back to mine and she made the familiar gesture once again. Look at me. ------- Somehow we made it through another hour-and-a-half of posing and sketching. I'd say it was boring, but really ... I was lying back pillowed on two beautiful bosoms with a third poised directly over me and a sexy redhead who was reminding me of her presence every few minutes by sending a short puff of air over my cock and balls. Said appendage finally deflated for about ten minutes during which time all the artists hurried to draw it while it wasn't pretending to be a flagpole. When the drawings were finished, we all got to tour the results. They were pretty impressive. Of all the girls, Sandra has the most distinctive style. She loves to cover her paper with graphite and then use an eraser and tortillon to bring out the highlights. As a result, her images seem to appear out of the shadows. Her finished sketch was a real work of art. We were all impressed. Melody and Amy both talk about how drawing isn't really their thing. They're both into graphics. But what they produced proved that good advertising still depended on good artwork. Melody's was a simple drawing with good detail that I was pretty sure she'd render in acrylics later. Amy had gone straight to bold watercolor markers and it looked like it was ready to put in a catalog. Kate's style is tightly controlled. I'm sure that if she set her mind to it, she could make a drawing look like a photograph. The amount of detail she'd put in her drawing in the two hours we were working was astounding. It wasn't just a technical masterpiece, though. It really had feeling. I could imagine that when Doc saw this piece he might regret having chosen me for the mural instead of Kate. I studied the drawing for quite a while, just absorbing what she had done. When I looked up, she was standing right beside me. She met my eyes and I sensed that she was waiting for what I would say. I must have looked a little worried. "Kate, this is really good. Are you going to paint it?" "No. I like charcoal. I'm just going to finish it the way it is or use it as the basis for a charcoal and pastel." "You should display it in the student exhibition. This will blow everything away." "Well, not everything." I think she blushed, as if praise from me was something special. Hell, anyone could see how outstanding this piece was. We were going to have to get past the hero worship someplace along the line. I didn't know what else to say, and while I was thinking about it, my eyes absently traveled over the artist instead of the artwork. God she was beautiful. Her toga sheet was worn as a sash over her left shoulder. It passed between her breasts and was tied at her right hip. She'd tied a cord around it just below the knot so the ends hung straight down in a tight bunch along her right leg. Her breasts were firm and round, high on her chest with dark nipples and areolae that were slightly oval instead of perfectly round. Her black hair was pulled back in her usual ponytail, tied with a bit of gold cord. She was long in the torso and it seemed like it took forever to scan down from her breasts, past her navel, and on to her pudendum. Like so many of the girls, she shaved most of her pussy, but left a perfectly rectangular patch of short black hair that was just as wide as I imagined her opening would be if I was licking it. "Seen enough yet?" she asked softly. I looked back up to her eyes. There was a bit of color in her cheeks and I realized I'd been practically examining her. "Not really," I said. "I want to draw you." "I think you did. Twice." "I want to do it again." "Why?" "I want to memorize you." As soon as I said it, I was afraid I'd gone way too far. What was I, an artist/stalker? Her breath was ragged as she inhaled. "I don't think we can do that right now," she said. "We're supposed to be eating dinner." Indeed, there were cartons of Chinese food being opened and everyone had paper plates. Lissa made tea and everyone realized how famished they were after the day's posing and sketching. My stomach was growling as well. I turned with Kate to join the group at the table. "Soon, Kate. Soon," I said. ------- Everyone was finally gone. Bree drove Allison and Sonia back to her house. Wendy offered to give Amy, Sandra, and Kate a lift to campus. We'd cleaned up the trash and had a bag sitting by the garage door ready to take out, but the three of us were still naked, so we hadn't taken it to the garbage cans yet. It was a regular receiving line on the way out. Every single girl gave each of the three of us a warm kiss on the way out the door. Even Sonia laid one on me. "What about the boyfriend?" I asked. "I've been naked with you all day," she smiled. "Don't tell him." When Wendy came to kiss me goodbye, she wrapped both arms around me and pulled me close for a long, sensuous kiss. "I understand I missed this opportunity last night, so I just wanted to see what the big deal was." She ground her crotch into my persistent erection. "It is a big deal," she grinned. It was Kate, though, that captured us. I was at the point where I could recognize her tentative but hopeful kiss as she pressed soft lips against mine and allowed her tongue to slip between them. But as I watched, she gave Lissa and Melody exactly the same innocent but provocative kiss. By the time she was out the door, I was ready to burst. "Oh god! Women, I am so fucking horny! Nine beautiful naked women all day long. I've been hard for hours," I complained. "Believe me, lover, everyone noticed," Lissa said. "And do you know what they are all thinking now?" Melody asked. "They are all riding home in their cars, quietly sitting in their little wet panties wondering which of us you are going to fuck first and how many orgasms we'll have before you're through," Lissa finished. With that, my two girlfriends wrapped an arm around each other and headed toward the bedroom, hips swaying in unison with their boyfriend panting along behind. They walked straight to the bed, crawled up on it together, and stopped. They were pressed tightly together with just their knees on the bed and their legs spread apart. I walked into the bedroom to see the most incredible display of ass and pussy of my young life. "Tony," Melody said, "we love how you make love to us. We love how you always think of our pleasure and are slow and gentle with us. We love you, Tony. But right now we are every bit as horny as you are and all we want is for you to come up behind us and fuck us into oblivion." With every heaving breath, her hips swayed and as they did, so did Lissa's. Who was I to argue with what my girlfriends wanted? I walked right up between Melody's ankles, positioned my cock at her entrance, and pushed. The feeling was almost enough to make me pass out. As I sank to the root in her hot, wet tunnel she raised her head and wailed her pleasure. Lissa caught her lips in a kiss, but it was difficult for her to keep the contact as every time I pulled out and slammed back in, Melody would move back and forth a foot with the impact. I was lost in the sheer joy of fucking. I loved Melody and treasured everything about her, but at the moment it was difficult to feel anything but the heart-stopping pounding as she repeatedly screamed out my name and Lissa's. That was a reminder to me. I pulled out of Melody and she moaned longingly after me, but in a flash I was positioned behind Lissa and began to sink between her beautiful fleshy lips. Lissa is about seven inches taller than Melody, and from this angle it was easy to see that most of the difference is in their legs. Her butt and pussy were a good four inches higher than Melody's, but the different angle was no less pleasurable. Lissa took up the wail from Melody as I fucked her harder than I'd ever done before. We were animals in heat and none of us could think of anything but fucking. I let my left hand trail down Melody's ass as I plowed into Lissa and soon I had two fingers plunging into Melody's hot box. And that set the stage for the rest of the night. I kept switching back and forth between the two hot women, savoring every difference that I could between the two. They brought their inside hands up to each other's pussy and strummed their clits as I filled their vaginas. They only stayed upright by means of leaning against each other for support. When I was finally ready to come, I pushed them both over on their backs, crawled between them and sprayed all over their tits and necks—something I'd never done before. We were wild and depraved. We didn't even clean off. I was still hard. They rolled toward each other and mashed their cum-covered tits together. I leaned forward between them and used the juices as lubricant as I slid my cock into the crevice between their breasts. They fought mouth to mouth for my next load, which was not long coming. I rolled to the side, finally too exhausted to keep going, though my cock hadn't received the message yet. Melody crawled up over Lissa and the two girls devoured each other. In seconds, both girls were screaming into each other's pussies as they climaxed again. We showered. We soaked in the tub. We found massage oil and oiled each other until we were all slippery and sliding back and forth over each other in a full body-to-body massage. In the aftershock of our naked posing party, we couldn't get enough of each other. ------- At midnight, four hours after our guests departed, we were cuddled in a slippery, sweaty ball in the middle of the bed, so physically spent we couldn't move. "How are we ever going to keep the next posing party from turning into an all-out orgy?" Lissa asked. "I thought they'd never leave so we could get in here and fuck!" "If one more girl had ground her pussy against my cock, I'd have come," I confessed. "God, I was so primed I thought I'd explode." "There were at least a couple who were hoping you would. What was Bree doing to you while you were posing?" Melody asked. "I thought we'd never be able to sketch your cock in a normal position." "I was intimately cuddled with four naked girls. That was my normal position. Every time I started to go down, Bree would blow across my balls and then up along the length of my cock. The others kept trying to help things along as well. Wendy kept shifting just enough to rub her nipple across my ear and keep her pussy against my arm. And Allison had her hand on my butt through the whole sitting. Sometimes it was just sitting there, but if she noticed Bree was doing something, she'd start raking her fingernails down my crack." "During one break, Amy and Sonia came upstairs to see if I 'needed any help, '" Lissa said. "They sandwiched me between them just to thank me for being such a wonderful hostess. A little hug would have been one thing, but they were both worked up and were getting me there, too, with their innocent little rubs. I don't know where we'd have ended up if you hadn't called them back to pose." That gave us all a moment's pause just to contemplate the scene. "Hey," Melody broke into our thoughts. "I don't mind if you get it on with Amy and Sonia, Lissa. In fact, I'd kind of like to watch. Amy's been hitting on me ever since we met last fall, but she just doesn't do it for me." "She said she'd swallow my cock whole if it would get her into your panties," I volunteered. "Whoa! I couldn't believe the way she kissed you in the contest. She looked like she meant business," Melody said. "But the chances that you'd get a blowjob from Amy are slim to none, even if it was a guaranteed trip to my pussy." "How about Wendy?" Lissa asked. "Her inhibitions dropped like autumn leaves once she got here this afternoon. And from our earlier talk, I don't think she's that much of a partier. She says she works most weekends and has a live-in boyfriend." "Well, she and Bree definitely decided that the fastest way to Tony's cock was through me," Melody said. "They were on me like white on snow. I got a kiss on the ear or a nibble on the neck every time one of them walked by me. And they were getting pretty free with each other, too." "What gives with Sandra?" I asked. "She's always so forward and suggestive. I mean she even stripped to the waist for me and shoved her nipple in my mouth a few weeks ago. But she has to be the worst kisser I've ever known!" "God! Have you ever seen such fat nipples? Don't be too hard on her, though. Keep playing hard to get and she'll be happy" Melody said. "If you ever returned one of her passes, she'd panic. I don't think she has much experience, no matter how big a game she talks." "Did you notice that the little protrusion between her labia was almost the same size as her nipples?" I asked. "Talk about a mini-penis!" "Okay, but what about Allison?" Melody asked. We were all quiet about that one. "Look, Tony, when I asked Allison out here, it wasn't specifically for you to fuck her," Lissa said. "I thought it would be good for you to see someone else on the court this last week of practice before The Ektelon. She didn't do well at Intercollegiates, but she's a good player and it will shake things up a bit so you don't get too used to just playing me for hard contests. And she's a nice girl. That being said, neither Melody nor I is going get upset if you fool around together. She knows what the score is and she doesn't really have an agenda. If it happens, it happens." "I'm not going to..." "Don't make foolish promises, Tony," Melody cut me off. "I might even let her get into my panties, except I really don't think she's into girls. Too bad. They might not show, but that girl's got balls." "Okay, I won't make promises," I said, "but I really have all I can handle in this bed with me right now." "Unless Kate was available," Melody said. "And that brings us to the elephant in the room," Lissa added. Everyone accounted for except Kate. I felt my cock twitch at the very mention of her name. Damn. Kate. "Kate is a problem," Lissa continued. "Kate is in love." "With all of us," I said. Melody and Lissa nodded. "Tony, we have to be careful with Kate. It's not that I think she's fragile, but she could interpret anything any of us do as a sign..." Melody said. "I agree," Lissa said. "You could see it in her sketch. And Tony, we could see it in yours. I think your professor would call it 'connection.'" "Yeah. That's his word," I affirmed. "She really came out of left field. Three weeks ago, I thought she was stuck up and aloof. A week ago, I still thought she was terminally shy. Now that I think about this yesterday and today, though, I don't think I've ever seen anyone so vulnerable." "It was her, wasn't it?" Melody asked quietly. "What?" "When you woke up in a panic as I was giving you a blow job last night," she continued. "It was Kate you were dreaming about." "Shit. I didn't..." "It's okay, Tony," Lissa said. "It's not unlikely that I'll be dreaming about her tonight. We just have to be really careful and make sure we are all in synch." "Kate could become our lover," Melody sighed. ------- Chapter 14 "Tony, let's play 'cheesey." Oh crap! Not now! "I'm sorry, Damon," I said to the boy standing behind me. "I have to work." "Making pictures is work?" "It's what I do in school." "In first grade we write." Well, that was true enough. But right now I was focused. That session Sunday afternoon was still fresh in my mind. I hadn't been able to think of anything else all day. I sketched all through Art History in the dark. At lunch, I ran to Daniel Smith and picked up five 22 by 30 inch sheets of 140 pound Arches Coldpress watercolor paper. I couldn't wait to start working on it. During Concepts, I spent the entire class trying out different light sources in my sketches and avoiding eye contact with Ms. Brock. I was even distracted through racquetball practice. Allison fired straight games past me. I complained that I wasn't back to 100% after my injury, but both Allison and Lissa knew that I was preoccupied. Allison was meeting up with Melody and Kate after practice, but Lissa and I had to get home right away, thank heavens. She didn't want Molly to have to stay late after having the boys most of the weekend, and I just wanted to get to my easel. I'd already taped up a sheet of paper and was beginning to lay in the sketch when Damon came downstairs wanting to play a board game. "I can help color," Damon said. He reached for my paints and I caught his hand before the tubes of watercolor scattered on the floor. I spun on him. "Damon, I'm busy. You can't help." Geez, kid! Don't you know what a deadline is? I thought. Damon backed up and started for the stairs just as what I thought sank into my consciousness. What a stupid fuck I am! Of course the kid doesn't know what a deadline is. He's six years old. Shit, I even have trouble understanding deadlines and I'm 19. That's just too young to have kids. Except Lissa was only 19 when Damon was born. How the hell did she manage it? Sure Jack was there, but he had a job and Lissa was in school. Now I'm here. Lissa has a job and I'm in school and part of my family wants me—no, needs me. I watched Damon back up toward the stairs. I had 36 hours to get this painting finished if I wanted it included in the student exhibition and my portfolio review. I could see it take shape in my head. I knew now exactly where I was going to have the light source, how I would cast the background figures into shadow. I was ready to paint. But the truth was I didn't need to. I had adequate paintings for the exhibition. My portfolio looked good now. Why did I obsess about this shit? "Damon, wait!" I said. I pulled off my headset and dumped my music player on my stool. I practically ran to him which set off a fit of little boy giggles and a desperate attempt to get away from the monster attacking him. I grabbed him around the waist and swung him up over my shoulder, tickling him as he came to rest in my arms. "Damon, listen to me. Do you know what you and Drew and Mommy and Melody are?" He hesitated for a second while he considered my question. "We're your girlfriends!" I laughed at him. That was a pretty simple way of putting it. "Better than that," I said, hugging him. "You and Drew and Mommy and Melody are the most important people in the world to me. You're my family. I love you." "Like Daddy?" "Daddy's love is special, Damon. No one can ever love you like Daddy. No one can ever love you like Mommy. But I love you like Tony. So you know what I think we should do?" His eyes were big as he seemed to realize that I was very serious. He shook his head. "I think we should play Parcheesi," I said. "'Cause this time, I think I can beat you." I carried him squealing up the stairs and we got the game board. ------- Game. Dinner. Clean-up. Bath. Storytime. Tuck the boys in bed. Another story. It was nine o'clock when I went back downstairs and stood in front of my easel. Try as hard as I could, I couldn't recapture the feeling. All day I'd obsessed over what I was going to paint, moving into the zone. Now it was gone. I felt Lissa before I heard her. Her hands were light on my shoulders. Her breath was sweet on my neck. I sighed heavily. "I heard what you said to Damon," Lissa said softly. "Hmmm?" "When I realized he'd come downstairs, I came to get him so he wouldn't bother you. I was just at the top of the stairs when I heard him burst out in giggles. And then you told him we were your family. I ran back to the kitchen so you wouldn't see me crying." "Lissa, I'll tell you the same thing I told Damon. You and Melody and Damon and Drew are the most important people in the world to me. You are my family and I love you." "You didn't have to interrupt your work. I know how important it is—you've been talking about it all afternoon. He's little. He'd understand." "That's just it, Lissa. He's six. He wouldn't understand. I'm supposed to be an adult." I took Lissa in my arms as I tried to put my emotions into words. "Remember when we talked about whether I was ready to have kids as part of my life? I thought financial security and having Jack to share the responsibility would make it easy. But it doesn't take away my responsibility. I'm his mommy's boyfriend. That gives him a claim on me, too." "I try not to make a claim on you, Tony," Lissa chided. "You're right. You've done nothing but give. Lissa, honey, believe me; I'll survive my disappointment over not getting one more piece in the exhibition. I've got plenty. I wouldn't survive losing you and the boys and Melody." We went upstairs and cuddled on the sofa. We decided to call Melody and find out how many girls she had in her bed. The answer was four. Amy, Sandra, Melody, and Kate had finished their projects and turned them in. They were already feeling like celebrating. Allison was certainly in the mood, since her school was out last week. So all five of them were camped in my room and sharing the big bed. "Without the testosterone in the room, though, everyone has elected to stay clothed." "I can't guarantee the same thing," I said. "I'm not getting any painting done anyway, so I might as well do some art appreciation." "Darling, love our lover," Melody said. "Can't wait to see you tomorrow." ------- Damned inspiration. Now that I'd given up on doing the painting in time to have it in on Wednesday for the exhibition, the image kept flitting through my mind. I wanted to focus on Lissa, but my mind kept wandering off. I'd look at her nose or the curve of her lips or the valley between her breasts and sketch it in my head, flinging paint on the canvas—seeing the light as it would come alive. Lissa must have asked me the question three times before I came back. "Tony, why don't you paint?" "Oh, but I'm here with you. I don't want to leave you and go to a cold, unfriendly art studio." "You may be here physically, but you aren't with me," she persisted. "Go down and work for a while. We can make love in the morning before work." "I don't know how long it would take, Lissa. I have class in the morning and if I work all night, I won't be worth shit. I'm supposed to present my final Fundamentals project." "Call your professor." "It's after ten. I can't just call him." "That man is more than a lecturer for you, Tony. He's a fan. Call him and tell him you need to reschedule your presentation for Thursday because you're painting. He'll listen." "I don't know." "Call." She produced my cell phone and I looked up his listing. I shook my head, shrugged my shoulders, and just pushed the call button. What was the worst that could happen? A woman answered the phone. "I'd ... uh ... like to speak to Dr. Henredden, please," I stuttered out. Geez! I probably woke up his wife. "This is Dr. Henredden." "Oh. I mean ... I'm sorry ... I was calling for Dr. Glenn Henredden." "May I tell him who is calling?" "Tony Ames." It was quiet on the other end of the line. For a long time. Finally there was a click and I heard Doc's voice. "Tony? What prompts this late-night call?" "I'm sorry for disturbing you, Dr. Henredden. It's about my final project." "Please don't tell me it isn't ready to present tomorrow." "No, it's ready, sir. I'm not." "Are you ill?" "No sir. I'm painting. I ... I'm sorry, this was a bad idea. I just didn't want to stop." "Never mind," Doc said. "Now I understand. Will this piece be in the student exhibition?" "If I can get it finished. It's pretty big." "I've seen you do big. If you promise to present your project on Thursday, I'll approve your absence tomorrow." "Thank you, sir. I won't disappoint you, sir." "About that, Tony," he said. Oh no, what did he want now? "You did a fine job on the mural." "Thank you, sir." He'd told me that about a dozen times. "No one expects you to paint a masterpiece every time you face the canvas. Don't paint for the exhibition. Paint for yourself. It's what you do. It's why you came to PCAD. Paint because you can't do anything else, not because you need something for a portfolio or exhibition. Do you understand?" "Yes sir. Thank you." I disconnected and turned to look at Lissa. I couldn't believe it. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her deeply and passionately. She melted against me for a few seconds and then pushed me away. "Take that passion to the studio," she said simply. "Wake me later if you need a break." ------- I was high when I reached my studio. It's funny how now I considered the lower level of Lissa's house to be my studio. Mine and Melody's. We had each set up our stations with all the supplies we needed, including lights. We were spending four or more nights a week at the house and it had become the center of my universe. I was worried at first that we were taking the boys' play space, but Lissa said she'd tried to get the boys to play downstairs, but everything kept migrating back to the living room. She'd finally given up and set the rule that all toys had to be in their room before stories could be read. As far as she knew, they'd never gone back downstairs again. I worked from the sketch I created Sunday afternoon and laid out the framework for the painting on a sheet of watercolor paper. I'd bought five sheets, even though they were seven dollars apiece, because I was pretty sure I'd mess up one or more as I was trying to master the lighting for my scene. When we posed and sketched on Sunday, we used fill lights bouncing off the ceiling to highly illuminate the models. That way I was able to draw all the detail I could over the two hours that the girls posed. But now that I was ready to create a work of art, I needed to determine my light source and where the shadows would fall across their perfect bodies. When I chose a light source, I would have to deal both with the way it changed their curves and where their shadows fell. I couldn't have a light source that conveniently left no shadow across a part of a particular girl's torso that I especially wanted to paint. It could be sunlight, moonlight, candles, torches, incandescent, or headlights. But all of the lighting information had to be added to the plain sketch. I could see it in my head. Therefore, I could draw it. ------- Mahler, Symphony No. 2. Paint on my brush, I attacked the paper in short bursts. Focal points, Doc had called them. Just a quick stroke to establish where the eye would be led. Six women focused on the reclining nude. The nude with her eyes fixed on me. Two unnoticed in the background shared a kiss. When the stunning vocals of "The Resurrection" in the last movement pulled at me, I could feel Sandra pulling the comb through Kate's hair, loving every strand it touched. There were only highlights scattered around the paper. The pencil sketch beneath was beginning to disappear. Grieg, Symphony in C Minor. The room began to take shape. It was not what I expected. I thought it would be a dark medieval castle. Torches would cast deep shadows. But instead I found a Parisian lady's boudoir, pre-World War II. The men were off preparing for conflict—negligent of the women they would leave behind. The ladies entertained themselves in the rooms of Mademoiselle Katarina—a 1940s slumber party. A fire burned in the grate casting shadows where the light of a lone lamp did not reach. Cinnamon, crimson, and tangerine colored the skin of the serving girl nearest the fire—her hips lush and round, as anxious for what the night would bring as her mistress. Schubert, Duet Fantasy in F. Just two hands on the keyboard as I highlight the red of Mademoiselle Brianna's hair, but soon a third hand reaches in, then the fourth. Sometimes discordant, nonetheless, the Melody plays off her twin's flash with her subtlety. Matched in body shape and position, one races up the scale as the other descends. While both are fixed on the same object. A hand strays from one to the other. A leg touches at the crescendo. Fiery red highlights on one girl are reflected in deep mahogany shadows of the other. I was listening to Liszt's "Csárdás Macabre" when I smelled the tantalizing aroma of fresh coffee. It was a delicate dance between two women fawning over their mistress. Sandra brushed her lady's hair while Wendy softly petted her arm, smiling at the reclining figure. The Hungarian dance with its forbidden parallel fifths creating both tension and passion. The two ladies danced in competition with each other for Katarina's attention. I sensed Lissa behind me before I saw her. Perhaps it was the approaching aroma of the coffee. I smiled as I turned to her and welcomed her good morning kiss with the coffee. She mouthed the words "I love you" to me and waved as she went back up the stairs for her work. I turned back to the painting as I sipped the stimulating brew and picked up a hairline brush to add just a touch of deeper amber to the shadow between the cheeks of her most exquisite butt. Then I returned to the painting as the music accelerated into "Csárdás Obstiné" with its crashing arpeggio as Wendy's hand and eyes swept the beauty before her. Something in the back of my head was telling me that I'd just shared a passionate kiss and cup of coffee with the most delectable woman in my world, and had returned to painting without ever leaving my zone. She was a part of it. ------- I continued listening to my music as I ate a late breakfast. Lissa had left me bagels, cream cheese, jams, fruit, cereal, milk, juice, and more coffee when she went to work and took the boys to school and daycare. I moved around in my sweats and t-shirt as I ate and refreshed myself, listening and waiting. There was only one part of the painting left to do. I could see it and feel it, but I couldn't yet hear it. I ate my way through Ravel's Bolero, its utter sensuality washing over me to such an extent that I got hard while imagining the scene in front of me. Ever since that ridiculous movie, it has been a favorite love-making song for couples all over the world—probably long before that. But that was for couples. Watching nine naked beauties in my mind's eye—not only as they posed, but as they laughed and dressed in their even more sexy togas—added a whole new dimension to the raw sexuality of the piece. But it wasn't what I needed. I put my dishes and leftovers away with my eyes half-closed, swaying to the music—feeling their kisses—aware of their pussies pushed up against my straining cock. Living a fantasy that had been reality just 48 hours ago. My heart was accelerating as I returned to the painting. Waiting. Expecting. It reached its dramatic climax and then it was over. But that's not life. If you only live for the climax, then what comes after is disappointing. The intensity of the peak left me yearning. Aching for the next. And then, it was there. Softly building with mixed atonalities, raw passion, subtle overtones, shyness replaced by forwardness, allure, and intensity. Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. I painted Kate. ------- A cut from the orchestrated score of Kingdom Hearts was playing as I stepped back to look at the reference photo on the digital camera and my painting. It always surprises to me to look at a photo and then see what I painted. I don't paint from photos. I mean, really, if you've got the photo, why do you need a painting? But life, captured on canvas, is never what you see in a photo. At least, not what you see through my eyes. The most obvious change was the setting. The photo clearly showed a room full of naked women, drapes hanging around that didn't quite reach the ceiling, and even flood lights that reduced the shadows. The painting was a lady's room in Paris. Just barely in the painting on the left, a fireplace burned brightly to take the chill off the room. The drapes on the tall window next to it were drawn, but a gap between the panels allowed late afternoon sunlight to streak through, painting a light stripe on the Oriental rug in the foreground. On the right, Allison had just come through an open door through which you could see a shadowy figure in the hall beyond—too dark to distinguish his features. I'd switched Melody and Bree. I wanted Bree's colorful skin exposed, but also, having Melody closer to Kate seemed right. With Bree's hand held against Melody's hip, she was the very image of desire—trying desperately to get closer to her near-twin. Adoration showed in the eyes of Sandra and Wendy as the only ones other than Kate who were fully face-forward. I'd taken a liberty with Lissa, too. Her hand still caressed the bread, but her chin was lifted up slightly. From her position, she could see beyond Kate on the bed and you could follow her eyes to the couple in the shadowy corner where Amy and Sonia had their tryst. Just a touch more color on the rug. A highlight on the elbow. The audience on the live recording began applauding and I pulled the headset off. The subtle shift of focus helped, but no one who looked would doubt the connection between the artist and the center model. The style was much more fluid than my mural painting. This was watercolor and was looser. Overall, there was less detail, but the play of color and light, the crispness of occasional details, and the composition of the piece would carry it with much more emotion than the more realistic acrylic wall painting could convey. Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I suppose. I used a hair dryer to make sure the paint was completely dry and then I packed things up, showered, and called a cab. ------- "Title, signature, and model releases, if you please." Prof. McIntyre hadn't even looked up when I walked through the door. The paperwork for my exhibit entry was already complete save for the three things she asked for. "I was afraid you weren't going to make it. Your girlfriends all came in insisting, however, that their pieces be arranged around yours as a suite," the professor continued. "Girlfriends? All?" "All four of them. I assume they are in your painting as well." "Do you need to see it?" I asked as I nodded. "Good question. Do I need to?" She looked at me and handed me the materials I needed for mounting the piece. Shit, how did the girls even know what size it was? The foamcore was cut to the right dimensions, set to extend on all sides of the painting by about two inches. Since framing art like this is costly, students all exhibited paper drawings and paintings on foamcore and fastened them with magnetic posts so no damage was done to the piece by using tape. "You have about 20 minutes to get that mounted and get it down to the gallery for installation. I'll take a look at it later." She flicked her fingers at me in a gesture to get going and went back to her work. I was almost out the door when she called me back. "Tony." "Yes ma'am?" "Are you returning to school next year?" "Yes ma'am. Unless I'm not welcome?" I was afraid she was talking about my upcoming portfolio review. Oh man. If I wasn't going to qualify to return to PCAD in the fall, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be welcome at SCU either. Everything was going to hell in a handbasket. My heart started thudding in my chest. "Good. I wanted to make sure," she said. "You are going to become a popular artist overnight. I wouldn't be surprised if there were multiple offers to buy some of your works after the gala Friday night. But you need a broader portfolio. Much of what you are showing is a variation on a theme." "What do you mean?" "The painting in your hand..." She gestured and I thought she wanted to see it, so I brought it back to her. She simply laid her hands on the portfolio as if a mystic. "I see a nude. Ah, several of them. And what is this? Drapes? Curtains and fabric hanging everywhere. A low-angled dominant light source—fire?—casts deep shadows. How am I doing?" I blushed and nodded. All right. She had my style pegged. "What should I do?" I asked. "You should focus your next term on bringing that incredible eye to bear on new subjects and experiences. If you don't, you'll end up being classed as a romantic portrait painter. You've honed your skill and your eye this year. Next year, you need to broaden your horizons. I have several suggestions regarding your classes next year. We'll discuss it at your portfolio review on Thursday. That will be all." This time she really was dismissing me. ------- I was able to concentrate on my racquetball Tuesday afternoon and beat Allison, though we both worked hard. I was agreeing with Lissa that the intercollegiate tournament had not shown Allison at her best. And I have to admit—I missed a couple of shots because I was watching the jiggling on her chest settle down. Maybe they don't make stronger sports bras. "For heaven sake, Tony. You've already seen 'em naked. Can't you keep your eye on the ball?" she laughed at me. "Geez, Allison. I'd never win a match if they didn't separate men's and women's. You are soooo distracting," I laughed right back at her. I'd been busted good and there was no way to pretend I wasn't staring. "Thank god we don't have nude racquetball parties like I've heard some artists have. None of us would hit the ball," she said as she wiggled her butt at me. "All right, you two," Lissa said, opening the court door and stepping in. "This is supposed to be practice, not foreplay. I think that's enough, today. Tony, why don't you get a shower and relax while I work out with Allison for a while." "I'm cutting it short tonight, darling," I answered, giving her a kiss. "I have to go study for my Art History final tomorrow. I'm going to stay in the dorm tonight so I don't disturb anybody." "Hmmmm. After Melody's little escapade last night, are you sure there'll be room for you in your dorm room? It's a big bed, but really..." Lissa waggled her eyebrows at me. "I'm going to have one of those chain things installed on the inside of my door," I suggested. "Like the one in the hotel room that you didn't use?" "Oh yeah." "Well, if no one else is volunteering, I'll come keep you company," Allison said. "It's an awfully big bed to be alone in." "Appetizing as that idea is, I really have to study." I kissed Lissa and Allison stood next with her lips puckered. I stepped back a step and Lissa kissed her. Allison's eyes flew open. "Oh!" she squeaked. "Every time I tell myself I'm not going to do that again, I get pushed off the wagon." We laughed and I gave her a quick peck. "I'll call you and Melody later to say goodnight," I said to Lissa. ------- I did okay on my history final. Not an ace, but I won the point. I missed Dr. Bychkova's las Art History lecture while I took the exam and, in a way, I was sorry it was over. I just wish the lectures hadn't been so boring. My final project in Concepts was done and Ms. Brock suggested again that I take her 3D class next year. That reminded me that I needed to slate time with my SCU advisor to set my schedule there for the fall. Another practice. Allison changed her tactics and I spent most of the match staring at her behind in a pair of ultra-short shorts. The big thing about this workout, though ... no, not that ... Lissa had us play facing the opposite direction so the glass wall was in front of us. That threw me off my game more than watching Allison's cute ass did. Lissa said I needed to get used to playing the glass wall. Not easy. I cuddled between Melody and Lissa Wednesday night and went to sleep before either of them had finished kissing me goodnight. What a party animal, huh? My fundamentals final presentation was anti-climactic. I gave it, Doc said thank you, and called on the next student. Then I sat there and listened to eight more presentations before my last Fundamentals class was mercifully over. I handed in my Art Orientation project and went to face my portfolio review committee. You would think that by the time I got this far the portfolio review would be a breeze. Doc Henredden did a lot of nodding his head and saying "good." Abe Ardmore picked at every page of my portfolio. I swear, he even asked about my choice of photo paper for the pictures of the mural. Prof. McIntyre seemed to need to prove that she wasn't easy on me in front of the department chairman. Between the two of them, I felt pretty beat up by the time I got out of there with my suggested schedule for next fall. I noted 3D Concepts was on the list, but I was going to have to eliminate something in order to get my English and Science requirements in at SCU. This was going to be tough. I took it out on Allison and Lissa during practice and they gave as good as they got. Lissa decided we weren't getting tough enough and this would be the last hard practice before Chicago, so we played cutthroat. In racquetball, only the server can score, so in cutthroat, the server is always playing against the other two players. When the server is side-out, the next player in rotation serves and plays against the other two. A game of cutthroat is usually to 21 and has to be won by two points. I hadn't worked so hard since Tempe. It was great. We called it quits at the end of an hour with none of us remembering what the score was. When we finished the match, we hit the showers and an hour later three happy and refreshed people left the club. Outside, Melody pulled up in Lissa's car with two very happy, bouncing boys in the back. "Mommy! We had ice cream!" Drew blurted out as soon as we got into the car. Lissa raised an eyebrow at Melody who was laughing. "Busted! You just can't keep a secret with little boys," she laughed. "Molly said they ate a good dinner, so we went through Dairy Queen on the way over to pick you up." "Not that I couldn't have told by looking at their faces," Lissa said. She grabbed a sheet of paper towel from a roll in the back of the van and began seriously scrubbing each face. She licked a corner of the towel and used it to wipe some of the sticky mess off Drew's cheek. "Mommy spit cleans anything," she explained while the rest of us looked on in astonishment. "Boys, this is Allison," Lissa said when they were reasonably clean and we finally got settled in the car. "Allison, these are my little terrors, Drew and Damon." "It's nice to meet you guys," Allison said. "Mommy has told me so much about you." "Are you our girlfriend, too?" Damon asked. That brought a silence to the car. Allison glanced at each of us with terror on her face. She swallowed and answered in a weak voice. "I'm a girl, but I'm just a friend-friend." "You can be our girlfriend," Damon persisted. "It's okay." He caught hold of Allison as she moved to sit beside Lissa in the third row seat and hugged her to his car seat. She smiled. "Wow!" she said. "I've never had such handsome boyfriends. Or so enthusiastic!" She reached over to the other car seat where Drew was anxiously holding out his arms and hugged him, too. I kissed Melody quickly and she pulled out and headed home. ------- Melody, with a little help from Molly, had pulled together a nice meatloaf and baked potato meal that was almost ready to come out of the oven when we got home. I read stories to the boys while Allison and Lissa had a glass of wine and put a salad together. Melody and I got the boys cleaned up a little more thoroughly and tucked them into bed. It was after seven and I was starving when we finally sat down to dinner. "Ah, the ultimate comfort food," I said. Her meatloaf was so good it melted my heart as I looked at her. Neither Lissa nor Allison had said a word, but chewed with a look of ecstasy on their faces. I caught Lissa's eye and we both jumped up and ran to either side of Melody. "Smooches for the cook!" I yelled as Lissa and I peppered her cheeks with kisses. I looked at Allison and raised an eyebrow at her. "It's really, really good," Allison said, "but I've sworn off kissing girls. Again." "Oh, all right," Lissa said, "but you can't kiss the cock if you don't kiss the hen." I didn't think she'd meant that quite the way it came out. Melody and I both looked at her, startled. Lissa blushed. "I mean ... that's ... you know..." she sputtered. "Oh hell!" Allison exclaimed as she rushed to Melody. "Pushed off the wagon again!" With that she planted a big kiss on Melody's lips and then ran back to her chair. I was sitting there and she almost sat in my lap before she realized it. Lissa was sitting at my place. Melody jumped up and sat in Lissa's chair. Allison looked at us trying to figure out what was going on and finally settled into Melody's chair. "Musical Meals," Melody explained. "You're just lucky we didn't clear your place while you were distracted." "Um ... can I have my fork, please?" We had a good laugh and passed each person his or her own plate of food and silverware. It was a game we'd tried once with Damon and Drew and the boys ended up in such hysterical laughter that Drew threw up, so we'd never done it again. But it was worth it just to see the look on Allison's face. "Are there any other little games you play that I should know about?" Allison asked. It turned out there was, but she was completely okay with joining the three of us in the spa for half an hour before we all went to bed. We're pretty casual about nudity together, but Allison had already seen that last weekend and wasn't nearly as uncomfortable getting naked with us as she was with the thought of eating from someone else's plate. I don't know if she was expecting anything else, but after the bath, we all kissed each other goodnight and Allison went off to the guest room to sleep. "It's too bad she's so uncomfortable about letting go and kissing women. She always enjoys it so much when she does," Melody said. "Yes," Lissa responded, "I could have been persuaded to move over a little to fit her in the bed. But it looks like that privilege is going only to Tony." "Wait, wait, wait," I said. "I'm not completely comfortable with the idea of all of us sleeping with someone else, let alone with one of us—namely me—sleeping with someone when the others aren't present. I may be engaged in a polyamorous relationship, but I've still got a heaping helping of Midwestern morals on my plate." "Nobody's going to push anyone to do something he or she is not comfortable with," Lissa said firmly. "That includes any of the three of us or any guest we have in our house, right?" "Right," we all agreed. "Still," Melody said coyly, "I bet Tony wouldn't feel quite so reluctant if it was Kate instead of Allison, would you sweetheart?" I took too long answering, and both my lovers fell on me, kissing and giggling. "Just think," Melody said as she crawled up above me and brushed my lips with her left nipple, "wouldn't you love to taste Kate's luscious tit? Do you think she tastes different than we do?" "Do her nipples get harder than mine?" Lissa asked as she nudged Melody far enough away to feed me her own stiff nipple. We both moaned as I flicked it with my tongue and sucked it into my mouth. "When you dreamed of her, did she suck on you, too?" Melody asked, demonstrating the question by taking my left nipple between her lips and pulling lightly. I've never seen this explained in anatomy classes, but I am pretty sure there is a nerve that runs directly from my left nipple to the tip of my penis. I let out a bit of a squeal that apparently vibrated Lissa's nipple enough that she made a high-pitched whine that would have called dogs. Her nipple popped out of my mouth and in a second I could see the beautiful flower-like petals of Lissa's pussy descending toward my lips. "Did you lick her, Tony? Did she flood your face and your tongue with her juices? Did she taste sweet and smell like the sky on a sunny day?" Lissa asked as she dipped her pussy toward my lips and my waiting tongue. I tasted her sweet nectar and smelled her fresh-from-the-bath scent mixed with the earthy aromas of her arousal. My girlfriends had me on edge. What were they trying to do—filling my mind with images of Kate? Would her pussy taste this sweet? Her lips were incredible; would her pussy be as welcoming to my tongue? Was her black pubic hair as soft and lush as it looked? Were her labia as smooth as Lissa's? God! Why couldn't I get thoughts of eating Kate out of my mind while Lissa's beautiful and ready nether lips saturated my tongue? "Did Kate make love to your cock with her mouth, Tony?" Melody continued the narration. "Did she wash your balls with her tongue? Did she squeeze your glans with her lips and nip at the underside of your big, stiff, beautiful prick? Could you feel her hot breath on you as she dipped to take your length in her mouth..." Melody's narration was interrupted as she demonstrated exactly the move she was describing, taking me deeper and deeper into her mouth. I felt Lissa reach down and flick my nipples with her thumb as she continued to glide up and down my face, sucking my tongue into her pussy. I was panting. I didn't think I was going to last much longer. Between Melody's mouth on my cock and my mouth on Lissa, and all the things they were saying, it was too much. They were here with me, but they were filling my head with images of Kate. Kate who I'd painted. They'd see the connection. "Did you make love to her in your dream, Tony?" Lissa asked. The wet pressure of Melody's mouth left my cock and I thought I'd be able to recover for a minute—regain control. "N-n-no," I gasped out. "I didn't. I wouldn't." "Did I interrupt you too soon, darling?" Melody asked. I could feel her hand on my cock. I licked Lissa from her clit all the way to her rosebud causing her to squeal out her delight and whisper, "More, more." "Did I wake you up before she stroked the head of your cock against her clit, Tony?" Melody continued and I felt her rubbing me in her moist slit—rubbing against her clit. "Was it just before you put your cock at her opening?—her wet, slippery, welcoming opening with its little landing strip of soft black hair? Didn't you get to sink your thick, hard cock into her?—feel her part to let you into her secret depths?" Melody was sinking down onto my cock. It was her pussy I was in, not Kate's. But the feeling was just so ... so much I couldn't restrain myself. The instant Melody pressed down until she was sitting on my balls and I was pushed up against her inner walls, I exploded. I exploded from my cock and from my mouth at the same time. I'd never screamed during an orgasm, but I screamed into Lissa's pussy, vibrating against her clit, my tongue begging to get further into her channel. Screaming at the top of my lungs, over and over again as I pumped Melody full of my cum. Hearing first Lissa and then Melody try to top my volume by screaming out their own climaxes. Then their mouths were locked together as they continued to moan their pleasure into each other and I had yet another spasm of pleasure shoot from my balls. All this from a dream that I called a nightmare, so afraid that I'd betrayed my girlfriends that I couldn't breathe. I hugged them. I cradled them in my arms. I whispered over and over how much I loved them. I kissed them. I petted them. All I could do was love them. ------- My last class of the semester. Everyone else had another week to go, but Lissa and I would be leaving for Chicago Sunday. All my finals were done. My projects were in. My portfolio had been reviewed, and I was ready for summer ... after I played my heart out at National Singles. There was quite a buzz in our Studio class. I think everyone was feeling the onset of summer. We didn't have a model as the class was working on finishing their final projects. Mine, of course, was painted on a wall in the admin building but I surprised Prof. McIntyre with my new painting of Lissa in the bath. I liked it. The steam rising gave her an ethereal look. Melody and Kate were next to each other, supposedly painting, but frequently leaning in to whisper to each other. I kept sketching the two of them together on a small pad with an HB pencil. Everything is a muted gray when you use HB lead. I could give a quick flick with my thumb and a hard line would turn into a soft shadow. I loved how their faces looked together. One with soft English features and the other a more angular, exotic, but not quite Asian profile. Prof. McIntyre was reviewing a student's work on one side of the classroom when Maggie Wright spoke up from the other side. "Professor, how do we enroll for the nude painting parties?" There was a big laugh from the nineteen women in the class as I tried to find a hole small enough to crawl into. I was even more surprised by Prof. McIntyre's response. "Well, I understand that they are by private audition only, Miss Wright. And I might remind you that while your work during those sessions might be admitted for exhibition, the parties do not carry any academic credits." "I'm taking names of next semester's candidates," Melody said. "One criterion is that you have to be willing to have your ass immortalized on a school wall. And, of course, the artist will have to interview the ass in question." There was a riot of chatter and a number of voices yelling "Me, I want in." "I think that is enough for today. In case you haven't seen it, our student exhibition was reviewed in this morning's Times. Some of you might be interested. There is a copy on the desk. Take whatever time you need to finish your project this morning, but officially, class is dismissed." ------- The boys were excited, as well they should be. I was dressed in a full and the boys each had a suit and tie on. I'd spent twenty minutes getting the little ties knotted. The three of us were escorting eight beautiful ladies to a gala opening tonight. I'd shown the boys pictures—fully clothed pictures, please—of all eight girls and let them choose which ones they wanted to escort. Each boy got two girls. Poor me. I'd be stuck with the other four. I wasn't surprised that Lissa and Melody were the first chosen with a little dispute over who got whom. Allison won third place and was awarded to Damon who still insisted she was his girlfriend. Drew chose the last from the pictures I showed him. I was surprised. "Why did you choose that one, Drew?" "Pretty," was all the boy would say. Well, I had to give him that. The limo arrived at 7:00 p.m. and the six of us loaded in. Damon's escorts were in the car, having won Lissa and Allison. Drew got Meddy and accompanied me to the dormitory door to pick up his other date. When the girls came down, I introduced them. "Ladies, this is Mr. Drew Wade. Drew has asked for the honor of escorting Miss Amy Garnet to the Gala this evening. Amy, would you join Meddy as Drew's date this evening?" "Why me?" Amy asked in surprise. "Pretty," Drew answered. "Honey, you may be the only boy I ever accept a date with. May I have your hand?" The two held hands as they went to the limo to join Lissa, Melody, and Allison. I turned to Sandra and Kate. "Miss Wells. Miss Holsinger. I'm afraid that leaves just me to escort you. May I have the honor of your company?" They hooked a hand through my arms on either side and we went to the limo. There was one more stop to make and we picked up Bree and Sonia. Sadly, Wendy had to work and couldn't come to the gala. The two cheerleaders were stunning. I escorted one on each arm to the limo and they hugged it like they'd never let me go. Bree stumbled a bit on the way to the car and I chided her about wearing heels that were too high for her. I explained that I would be escorting four ladies this evening and they needed to share. I think they both thought I meant Lissa and Melody and were surprised that they'd be joined by Kate and Sandra. It was a little crowded in the limo with 11 of us, but Drew and Damon gladly took places on Allison and Melody's laps and Bree and Kate both managed to sit partially on me with Sonia and Sandra cuddled in as closely as they could get. The Student Exhibition Gala is the equivalent of a spring Cotillion at PCAD. It is an excuse for everyone to get dressed up and act sophisticated. Ours was by no means the only limo hired for the night. The plan was to spend an hour or two at the gala, looking at the exhibits and acting sophisticated, drinking fruit punch and discussing the relative merits of this or that bit of art. Then we'd pile back in our limo, and go hit one of the clubs down on The Ave. Jack had volunteered to join us at the gala and collect the boys to go home when they started to get tired. I didn't envy him the job because I could tell neither of them was going to be happy about leaving without his dates. I wasn't expecting the splash we'd make with our entrance. People noticed the eight beautiful women first, then the three men escorting them. Damon and Drew absolutely ate up the attention as nearly everyone from our Life Painting class descended on us with congratulations for stealing the show. I was prepared to thank people for appreciating the mural and just let it go at that, but there weren't that many people in the hall looking at the mural. I couldn't figure out what all the fuss was about. The admin building, with offices on the second floor, was also the building that housed the galleries and theaters. By having dance and theater performances in the same facility where art was exhibited, students got broader exposure to those who attended one event but wouldn't have come to another. The gala, starting at 6:30 p.m. would be a preface to the dance recital at 8:30. Many people would go from one to the other. Being in the admin building, I expected the mural to get a lot of attention. Now that it was finished, it was truly a beautiful piece and I felt good that my contribution didn't stand out as being foreign to the work as a whole, no matter what Mr. Bowers' letter to me had indicated. As expected, there was a small but steady stream of people outside the theater who walked the length of the mural in both directions and nodded their appreciation. It was inside the gallery that the surprise was waiting. There was a good-sized crowd gathered around a group of paintings and drawings titled "The Rhapsody Suite." My watercolor of a Parisian boudoir with nine naked women was at the center. Displayed around it were four slightly smaller pieces that were different treatments of a nude male surrounded by four females. It was easy to objectify the artworks. We were just males and females, not a close group of friends and lovers. Arranged on either side were works by other members of the Life Drawing/Painting class. They seemed to orbit around the central five. Sandra's brooding graphite piece on heavily textured Strathmore drawing paper captured the entire scene in highlights removed from the smooth covering of the entire sheet. Melody captured a soft romantic scene in pastels on Grumbacher paper. I loved her style. She talked about not being a real artist and only being interested in graphics, but when she set her pastels on the page, it was stunning. Amy, of course, used markers on bright Bristol vellum and created an image out of the scene of five nudes that could have been used to sell baby oil if she wanted. It had a sense of whimsy that I found adorable. I could tell as soon as we got in position to see what the crowd was about. It wasn't just my watercolor. Kate displayed a charcoal on soft gray paper that was unlike anything in the exhibit. I looked myself in the face. She didn't even include the girls in her drawing. It was just me—my shoulders and face. When I looked at myself, it was more revealing than looking in the mirror. "We know the artist of this masterful watercolor creates an intense connection with his models. We saw that in the mural outside. Here we see not only the connection with the central character, but he leads us away from her to the shadowed figures in the background. They are the story that is told in this painting, even though the connection with the central figure is just as intense and moving as the connection in the mural." I didn't know who was speaking to the small group gathered in front of the suite, but he seemed to know what he was talking about. I decided it wouldn't hurt to hear what he had to say. Lissa leaned in next to me and said, "That's Bob Bowers." I started to pay more attention. "But the surprise—" Mr. Bowers continued, "—the beauty that is unexpected is here in this simple work of charcoal. I call it simple because of the medium only; there is nothing simple about the talent shown here. Where the work in the large piece shows the artist connected to every character in his painting, this smaller charcoal shows not only a connection, but understanding. Look in the eyes, the set of the jaw. The artist shares the shadows of her model's heart. This is not only a portrait; it is a window into the soul. On their own, these are fine pieces of art. As a suite, someone could own a legacy." I couldn't have said it better. When I looked at my face in Kate's charcoal drawing, I could see the depression, the hope, the love, and the doubt. Standing where I was, I could even see the artist reflected in my eyes. I might have stood there for an hour with an arm wrapped around Kate and the rest of our entourage near us if it hadn't been for the small voice that broke through the surrounding din. "Mommy, I feel sick." ------- Chapter 15 With four little words our evening went to hell. Damon had barely spoken before dinner followed them. Lissa bent to take care of him as I ran to the janitor's closet for cleanup supplies. Mop, bucket, rags, water, and some of that foul smelling cleanser that's guaranteed to make anyone sick who isn't already. Allison managed to step out of the way of her "date" quickly enough to avoid getting anything on her. Lissa rushed Damon to the restroom and I got back to the exhibit in time to hear Drew say, "Meddy..." and then throw up in the opposite direction. Amy was not as lucky as Allison and found herself standing in a liquid lake. Melody carried Drew to the ladies room as I flung rags onto the mess on the floor. "Oh god, I feel..." Amy looked faint and Sonia slipped in beside her to prop her up. Before she walked away, I managed to lift each of her feet and thoroughly wipe her shoes and toes. Sonia motioned for Allison to help her and the trio moved out of the room rapidly. I looked around. Kate had gone with Melody, so my selection of assistants had instantly been reduced to Sandra and Bree. Bree took one look, said "Gah-ross!" and walked away. I was surprised to find Sandra down on her knees in her evening gown mopping up the rags and dumping them in a plastic bag. I grabbed the mop and started quickly cleaning the floor. "Sandra, you don't have to do that. You're all dressed up. I can take care of it." "I've got five little brothers and sisters," Sandra answered. "I'm used to cleaning up this kind of shit. We'll have it all taken care of in a few minutes. About that time Jack arrived. "You're a little over-dressed for janitorial work, Tony," he said. "Jack! You just missed the excitement. Both boys just threw up." He went pale. "Where are they? Are they all right?" "Women's room with Lissa and Melody," I said. Jack was gone in a flash. Sandra and I finished cleaning up the floor and put out a "Wet Floor/Piso Mojado" sign. I wheeled the cleanup supplies back to the closet. We didn't bother trying to rinse the rags, but just tied the garbage bag shut and I took it out back to the dumpster while Sandra held the door open so I wouldn't get locked out. The whole thing had only taken about ten minutes and we headed for the restroom. Crying boys, girls in formals, two guys in tuxes. You get the idea. It was chaos. The poor little guys were bad and getting worse. "Jack, we need to get them to the doctor. Damon is burning up with a fever. How could I have missed him getting sick?" "Both of them," Jack said. "We should head to Children's." "We've got the limo outside. We can take you," I offered. Damon had grabbed one of my hands as soon as I walked through the door. Jack was holding Drew, but the younger boy hadn't let go of Melody. "We'll take my car," Jack said. "That way you aren't stranded." "It's okay. Melody and I will come with you," I argued. Jack turned to me. "Listen Tony. I appreciate your help and Melody's quick actions, too. But it's a big night for you and you shouldn't leave the party before it's even started." "But..." "Tony," Jack spoke sharply. "These are Lissa's and my kids. It's our responsibility, not yours." I stepped back, about ready to blast him. How dare he insinuate that I didn't care? Lissa was my girlfriend, not his wife anymore. "Sweetheart," Lissa said. "Jack's right. I know how much you and Melody love Damon and Drew, but this is something their parents need to take care of and you should be out with your friends. Don't forget, you're leaving Sunday and everyone will be gone for the summer long before you get back. Help us get the boys to the car and then come back and enjoy yourselves. I'll let you know as soon as we know what's going on." I bit back my response. Lissa didn't need another little boy to distract her. She needed a man. Her husband. I picked up Damon in my arms and carried him to the car. Melody extracted the promise that they'd call as soon as they knew what was going on. ------- Melody and I walked back into the gallery. Other than the yellow sign on the floor and a lingering smell of disinfectant, the party was going on as normal. I caught a glimpse of Bob Bowers entertaining his group in front of the mural and supposed that Jack was right. I should introduce myself. We spotted our remaining dates in a corner by the punch bowl, listening avidly to Allison. "My god! They kept me awake half the night listening and the other half imagining what had been going on!" she said to the girls' laughter. "You should have heard him!" "Oh they were probably just putting on a show for you," Bree said caustically. "All fake." "Hey, I've had some experience with 'fake, '" Allison responded. "I'd have known if it was fake. Let me tell you, if I could do that to a man, I'd charge rent." "Oh," Kate moaned. "I wish I could inspire passion like that." I looked at Melody and we both nearly choked. If only she knew! We made some noise and walked up to the group. "Hey guys. Had enough excitement for the evening?" I asked casually. At least three of the girls blushed. "Exciting is still to come, baby. I like art, but enough is enough, already," Bree said. "Let's go party!" She was starting to get on my nerves. What the hell was wrong with her? She raised her arms in the air and started to wiggle her hips in what I assumed was supposed to be a dance move. "Tony, Melody, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend," Sonia said. "This is Thor. Thor, I've told you about Melody and Tony." "Oh yeah," he said. "You sure have. It's nice to meet you. And I just want to say thank you for Sunday night." Sonia blushed a very pretty crimson beneath her blonde hair and playfully punched her boyfriend on the arm. Thor. What an appropriate name. He looked like a Scandinavian god. He was a 6'4", 230-pound blond—built like a rock. Thor and Sonia together looked like wet dreams for both men and women. "Nice to meet you Thor," I said, letting him crush my hand in his. "What do you play?" "Bassoon," he replied. I looked at him quizzically. "Yeah," he continued. "Everybody figures I'm some kind of football player. I march in the band. I'm a music education major." "No kidding?" Melody said. "Welcome to PCAD." "I'm not that good," Thor said. "I like to play, but I really want to teach." "If people like you didn't teach, kids like us would never go into the arts," I said. "Speaking of which, I don't suppose I could get you two to pose for me, could I? I don't mean anything ... you know ... I mean kind of a classic composition ... if you aren't opposed to doing something nude." "You've already done her," he laughed. Sonia wasn't getting any relief from the blush that colored her. I wondered if I could capture that with paint. "Adding me shouldn't take much," Thor continued. Except in the amount of paint, I thought. "Hey, I tell you what. If you can get me an invite to the next posing party like the one I heard about Sunday night, I'll pose any way you want me to. I got a blow-by-blow description, so to speak, after Sonia got home Sunday night." "I think that might be arranged," I said. "It would probably make the night a little easier on me." "Yeah. I can imagine how hard it could get." We laughed. I know—but no matter how old it is, male erectile humor is always funny. I turned to the rest of the group and singled out Kate. "Ms. Holsinger, may I ask you to accompany me? There is someone I've been told we should meet," I said. Well, Jack had said I should meet Bob Bowers, but after I heard what he said about Kate's charcoal, I realized she should meet him, too. Kate took my arm and we walked out to the mural hallway where the art critic was working his way down the various focal points in the mural. She had one hand beneath my elbow, but as we waited politely for a break, her other hand softly stroked up and down my bicep. When Mr. Bowers came to a break and people started to move on, Kate and I stepped forward. "Excuse me, Mr. Bowers. May I introduce Ms. Kate Holsinger? She is the artist who did the charcoal portrait you were admiring earlier," I said. "Ah, Ms. Holsinger. I'm so pleased to meet such a great talent. Do you have other pieces on display?" "A few, Mr. Bowers. Nothing I like as much as the portrait. Your review this morning was very kind." I'd forgotten all about the review. In fact, I never got around to reading it. "Well, please give me a tour," he said. Then he turned to me. He looked into my eyes and held them. "And I assume you're Tony Ames." "Uh ... yes sir. Pleased to meet you. How did you know?" "You are in each other's eyes, just as I could see you in Miss Grant's eyes in your mural painting. I hope you weren't disappointed in what I said in the review this morning." "I guess I didn't read it," I answered. "Sorry." "Good! Never put stock in what critics say anyway. We're paid to criticize." "We learn from criticism," I said. "But please, I know you've spent plenty of time on my works, and I do appreciate the letter of recommendation Jack passed on to me. Please let Kate show you her other pieces. She's got a pretty amazing talent." Kate beamed at me. Damn she looked good in her evening gown. She was wearing the orchid I'd given her last week, apparently kept fresh in the dormitory refrigerator. She was keeping a tight grip on my arm. Mr. Bowers leaned in to speak to me in a whisper, intentionally blocking Kate from hearing. "Tell me, Tony. Do you make love to all your models?" What the fuck? Did he just say what I thought he said? I calmed myself before I answered. It was obviously rhetorical. "Only on canvas, sir." ------- We left the gala a little after nine and the limo drove us to an over-18 club near the University of Washington. The music was good with a popular local DJ spinning the tunes. No alcohol was served so the club could handle underage partiers. All the way there, Melody and I were trying to reach Lissa to see how the kids were doing and if we were needed. I was pretty much ready to ditch everyone and just catch a cab to the hospital. It was driving me crazy, not knowing what was going on. "Maybe we should just go over there," I said to Melody. "God, I hate not knowing how Damon and Drew are or what's wrong. Why did they have to take them to the emergency room?" "Oh, lighten up, Tony," Bree broke in. "We're supposed to be partying. They're not your kids, after all." "You're really a bitch, you know, Bree?" I shot back at her. "I'm not interested in listening to you put down the people I love. Shape up your attitude or go home." "Listen you little prick. I've been playing the game and waiting my turn. If you're not interested in me, maybe I should tell the athletic director a little more about your lifestyle and parties. I'm sure he'll be interested in the new talent's ability to represent SCU." "Listen to yourself, Bree! Jesus. The man is your father. He's the athletic director, not your pimp." That earned me a slap across the face, and it stung. "Bree!" Sonia yelled. She grabbed her friend by the arm and dragged her away from me mouthing something at me over her head that I couldn't understand. At least she was gone. My face hurt. "Really, Dude?" Thor said to me. Shit. Was he going to get on my case now, too? "That was awesome. Somebody's needed to take her down a peg for a long time. Welcome to SCU." "Thanks, I think," I said. Melody reached up and kissed my cheek. "I'm not doing anything tonight to ruin our night with friends," Melody whispered. "But next time I'm alone with her, I'm going to kick her freckled ass into the next county." "I'm not justifying her or anything," Thor said, "but I think she might be on something. She's not acting normal, even for Bree. She's a pushy slut, but she's not usually that crass. Something must have set her off." "She's just realized what different worlds we live in," Amy offered. "Aside from her being hot for Tony, we're probably as much to blame as her about polarizing things. She's an athlete and we're artists. This was really the first time she saw what Tony's art world really looks like. Sunday it was just a guy partying with a bunch of naked girls. She's trying to get him back there." "Wow! You studying psychology, Amy?" I laughed. It was good to have friends around me, especially when I was feeling bad about causing a scene. I knew she didn't mean anything. "You need to add a 'u-s' in that word and then you've got it right." I wasn't getting it and looked at her strangely, I guess. "Pussychology," Amy laughed. "I'm making a career of analyzing as many of them as I can." We all laughed and I was thankful that Amy was there and that we were mostly all friends. We were finally at the head of the line to get in and Sonia and Bree returned to stand opposite Thor from us. Bree refused to look in our direction, but her mascara had run and there was a black streak on her cheek. I gave Melody a squeeze, took a deep breath, and walked over to Bree. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Bree," I said. "I can't blame you for not understanding a weird situation." I reached up with my handkerchief and wiped the smudge off her face. She looked at me and her lower lip started to quiver, but she kept the tears back. "Friends?" "Thank you," she said softly. She reached up and patted my cheek where she'd hit me. "Sorry I can't wipe that off." Well, that was as good as it was going to get for tonight. We got into the club, got sodas, and danced. I could see that we weren't really an integrated group any more. Amy joined Bree, Sonia, and Thor on the dance floor and the four seemed to trade partners regularly if partners were called for. Most of the time, it was just everyone dancing together. Amy was working hard at comforting Bree. Hmmm. Was Sonia intentionally trying to get between them? Melody, Allison, Kate, and Sandra were with me. Kate looked like she was in heaven when she was dancing with Melody or with me. In fact, neither Melody nor I missed exactly how heavenly she looked. There might have been just a little more touching and brushing against each other than the dances called for. But she looked like she was near heaven even when she danced with Sandra and Allison. It was nice to see her having fun. Melody and I checked our phones every few minutes for messages. Between the pounding bass of the music and the crowd noise in the room, it would be impossible to either hear our phones or feel them vibrate. At midnight, we called an end to our little prom and asked our limo driver to take us the long way home, whatever that was. We had an hour left on the rental and were determined to use it all. ------- It was bittersweet. My freshman year was over. Classmates that I'd met just nine months ago were now my lover and friends. I had another lover sitting with her ex-husband and two kids in a hospital. A cute student from Kansas had become a close friend. Two cheerleaders and a Norse god were friends from a new school. It was hard to remember why I'd been so depressed just a few weeks ago. Sonia would be returning home to LA. Her plan was to spend the summer in the surf as she had done for the past several years. Thor was planning to visit his parents and then join Sonia. We were, of course, all invited to come down to visit. Bree was staying put. She'd sobered up and was quiet in the car, but said she usually helped her dad during the summer when he went out to recruit athletes who had not yet committed. Most of it would be in the Northwest because SCU simply wasn't big enough to draw athletes from further away. Being a Division III school wasn't much to brag about, but the program was growing and she was determined to do her part. "And no, I don't recruit athletes by fucking them," Bree said. "We just talk and, if they come to visit, then they know someone who will show them around. I'm not always a slut." Melody was still pretty pissed at her, but even she tried to be enthusiastic about Bree's job. "I'm going back across the mountains after next weekend to fend off the breeders for the summer. I'll be ... oh god, you just wouldn't believe what I do in the summer," Amy said. "Come on, Amy," I encouraged. "Fess up. I bet you paint houses." "That would be a great job!" Amy said enthusiastically. "Especially compared to what I really do." She waited for us to egg her on a little more and then continued. "All right, I live in a resort community in the mountains. Everything has a Bavarian theme. I mean everything. At the local drive-in, you can order schnitzel. I know, because I work there." "Do you cook or wait tables?" Sandra asked. "God, this is so embarrassing. It's a drive-in. An old fashioned one. I dress in a cute little Bavarian maiden outfit and roller skate to people's cars to take their orders. When things are slow, we do trick skating in the parking lot. That usually brings people in." "Wait. You do roller skating tricks in a little Swiss Miss costume for the summer?" Melody howled. "You know if you'd have pulled that on me last fall you might have gotten lucky!" "Well, it's never too late to try. You know, Tony, just because I won't do you doesn't mean we couldn't double-team the little brat," Amy said. "I don't know, Amy," I said. "The very thought of you in that little short skirt and skates just makes me want to yodel." When asked, Sandra said that she was going to spend her summer being the chauffeur to her five little brothers and sisters and try to give her mother a break. She was the oldest by five years, then the rest all came fast and furious. All five were between 10 and 14 years old with one set of twins. Allison would go with Lissa and me to Chicago Sunday night to watch National Singles and then head back to Kansas for her regular summer job as a counselor at a YMCA camp. "Kate, where will you spend the summer?" Melody asked. "Oh, I'll be around. I got a job as a docent at the Art Museum. Mostly, I'll be giving groups of kids, about Damon's age, tours of the children's collection. I think it'll be fun," Kate said. "Or I'll be dead. I'm not sure which." "Okay. What about you guys?" Sonia asked. "Planning a summer full of art and naked slumber parties?" "You guys all have the wrong idea," Melody said. "We really aren't that wild." "We were there, you know," Allison said. "And exactly how big an orgy did we have?" I asked. "Well, we didn't actually do anything," Kate agreed. "But that doesn't mean we weren't thinking about it." "Kate!" Sandra exclaimed. "My, the girl has come out of her shell!" "I'm flying out to Chicago to join Lissa and Tony as soon as my last final is done on Thursday," Melody said. "Then I'll sit with Saul and Deborah and my parents to watch my boyfriend win a national championship. I can't wait to meet them in person, Tony. And it will be so weird to have my parents meeting your parents." "We'll spend the weekend in Chicago," I continued. "Then Melody has to go home to Boston for a while and Lissa will have to get back here to work and take care of the boys. I'll go back to Nebraska for a while and then I'm coming back out here so I can start helping Lissa get ready for Opens. As soon as Melody gets back we'll all be together again." The limo pulled up in front of Bree's house and the three SCU students got out. Well, we all got out, because you can't just say goodbye without hugs and kisses. Bree's kiss was a little tentative and less aggressive, but she did hug me pretty fiercely. She hugged Melody, too, and said something to her that I couldn't hear. I glanced at Thor in time to see Amy go into a lip lock with him, so I used that opportunity to plant a good one on Sonia. She giggled. "I hope you'll be seeing more of us in the fall," she said, and laughed as she got swept up in an even more passionate kiss by Amy. We piled back into the limo and took the next three back to the dorm. Sandra came at me for a big open-mouthed kiss, but I stopped her and used my fingers to close her mouth. "Kissing is about the lips," I said as I leaned in and caressed her lips with mine, then brushed my tongue against them. I gave her a squeeze and backed away. She didn't move, but just stayed there with her face upturned and a look of bliss. Melody used the opportunity to kiss her just as sweetly. We could see her chest heaving in deep breaths and her huge nipples straining at the fabric of her gown, bra be damned. "Why didn't anybody ever tell me that before," she said dreamily. Allison hugged her new friends and I hugged Amy and gave her a little kiss that she accepted as one good friend to another. Melody wasn't so demure, however. She gave Amy the works. "Holy shit," Amy gasped. "What finally came over you?" "I just had this image of you on skates in that little skirt and peasant blouse," Melody laughed. "It was just so hot." Melody and I stood in front of Kate while Allison was hugging Sandra and Amy and suggesting that they come to Kansas for a visit. We closed in on her at the same time and kissed her cheeks. Kate smiled and turned to Melody. She kissed her tenderly, then turned to me and did the same thing. She sighed. "I wish Lissa were here," she said softly. "That would be just right. I hope I'll see you guys later this summer. Call me?" "Oh yeah," Melody said. "This is from Lissa." We both moved in on Kate with what had become practiced precision in three-way kissing. Kate could hardly kiss us back, she was grinning so hard. "Wow! That girl can really kiss, can't she?" Kate giggled. We promised we would call her as soon as we were back in town. Everyone verified that we had everyone else's phone numbers in our contacts and the last three of us returned to the limo. I sat between Melody and Allison and they snuggled up to me on either side. It was pleasant having the two there, but it just wasn't ... right. Allison was sweet, but she wasn't Lissa. ------- Melody's phone rang at 1:01 a.m., just after we'd walked into the house. We were headed to the boys' room to see if everyone was there. No one was, but Lissa greeted Melody on the phone and asked her to put it on speaker so she could talk to both of us. "We're still at the hospital, but will probably be leaving soon," Lissa started. She sounded drained. "How are they? What's wrong?" Melody asked. "We've been worried all night," I added. "It turns out there's a nasty bug that's hit in past couple of days and is spreading like crazy through the pre-school and elementary schools. We must have seen a dozen people we knew in the emergency room. It's crazy here. Their temperatures peaked at 104 degrees and the doctors pumped them full of antibiotics, but it will be a couple days before they are fully healthy," Lissa said. "When will you be home? Should we come and get you?" I asked. "I'm not coming back tonight," Lissa said. Melody and I looked at each other and I could see worry creasing her brow. "Lissa?" "We're taking the boys to Jack's house. I can't bring them home with all of you there. The doctors say it's really contagious. You can't risk being sick the last week of school and at National Singles. We'll be lucky if you haven't already caught it," Lissa explained. It was logical but we weren't happy. "But Jack's there. You could come home," Melody pled. "Sweetheart, I can't leave my boys tonight. They won't let go of me and I wouldn't leave them when they're sick anyway. I'll stay there." "With Jack?" I blurted out before I could stop my mouth. I was worried sick about the boys, and I understood that Lissa needed to be with them, but she'd be there with the boys and with Jack. It was like they were still married. "It's not about Jack, Tony," Lissa said sharply. "I can't expect you two to understand, but please just accept that I need to be here. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Melody recovered first and managed to stop Lissa before she hung up. "We love you, Lissa. And we love Damon and Drew. Give them a hug for us and tell them we love them. Please?" "We love you, too, Little One. I'm sorry I snapped at you, Tony. It's been a hard night. I love you both." ------- After a little peck on the lips, Allison had gone straight to the guest room and Melody and I retired to our bed. Our bed—but Lissa's bed. It felt so strange to get ready and crawl into Lissa's bed without Lissa in it. Even when Melody came into my arms, she seemed hesitant and unsure. It wasn't like we hadn't made love without Lissa, nor that she and Lissa hadn't made love without me, nor that Lissa and I hadn't made love without Melody. But it was strange being in this bed without her. Even with two of us sharing it, it felt big and empty. "Tony?" Melody said in a very small voice. "What is it, Little One?" "I'm afraid." I didn't need an explanation but we both needed to give it voice. I could feel the fear gnawing at me. "So am I, dear." "Are you afraid Lissa won't come back to us?" "Yes. Afraid that she is sharing this crisis with Jack instead of us and that anytime Damon and Drew are involved, she'll be with Jack. Afraid that we aren't as important to her as we want to believe." Afraid that she was with him right now. No, I didn't imagine that they were having sex while Damon and Drew ran a fever in the next room. Just that he was the one holding her and comforting her while she watched over her babies. I was afraid we could never compete. "I keep thinking of how she tried to break up with us and we wouldn't let her. Are we clinging to a fantasy?" "No, Sweetheart. That can't be. What we have is real for all three of us. We just need to be patient and show her how much we love her." "Tony, would we ... would we ... still be together without Lissa?" Tears were flooding down Melody's cheeks and I held and rocked her trying to ward off the dark clouds that threatened to engulf me. I couldn't answer. I held her fiercely and kissed the tears escaping from her eyes. I found her lips and we devoured each other—not hungrily, but desperately—hanging on to what was real in the face of what was imagined. I wasn't quite hard and she wasn't quite wet, but we forced ourselves together, needing to be joined. As we rocked back and forth, our bodies took control and we gradually slid more freely, my hardness penetrating her core. I rolled her on top of me so I wouldn't crush her and held her to me tightly. Our climax came, not with a bang, but a whimper. ------- "You guys are sure a lot quieter when there's only two of you," Allison said when we appeared in the kitchen Saturday morning. She'd already made coffee and was staring at a bowl of cereal when we finally pushed ourselves out of bed. Neither of us wanted to get up, but we couldn't bear to stay in the bed any longer. Allison looked at us long and hard as I poured two cups of coffee and got out the milk and sugar for Melody. "Oh, you poor kids," she said after a minute. She came around the table and pulled both of us to her and squeezed. We no longer had tears to shed. We were too exhausted. We both just rested our heads against Allison's ample bosom. "You are really in love with her, aren't you! And the boys. I saw it the last couple of days, but now it's written all over your faces. Don't worry; it will be okay. You'll see." It was funny, being comforted like little kids by a woman who was only a couple years older than we were. This was going to be a long hard day if we didn't snap out of it. Hey, the boys would start getting well and then Lissa would come home and we'd all be fine again, right? I smooched Melody while Allison kept hold of our shoulders. She smiled a little and her eyes shifted up toward our comforter. I grinned and, as if on cue, we both turned our heads toward Allison and nipped at her nipples, prominently standing out in unfettered glory under her t-shirt. She yelped. "You guys! I almost wet my pants! You scared me." "Oh," I said. "Sorry about that. Next time we suck on your nipples we'll try not to startle you." "Next time? Oh, shit!" "Sorry we're so sour this morning," Melody said. "Thanks for helping us and giving us a hug." "You're welcome," Allison said, starting to breathe again. "But, yeah. Next time," Melody finished. Allison rolled her eyes. "My god, what did I get myself into? Just come out to play some racquetball for a week. We'll have a couple of parties. So sure, I thought to myself. Sounds like fun. I wonder why they didn't tell me I'd be running around in a house full of naked women, listening to the most incredible sex I've ever imagined, and getting my boobs bitten by not just a boy, but a girl, too! Why didn't they mention these little details before I got here?" "Oh, Allison," Melody complained. "If we'd told you all that it would have spoiled the surprise and you might not have come." "Oh I think I'd have come ... several times. I just might have packed lighter." We all got a chuckle out of that and began the process of pulling ourselves out of the morose depths and back into daylight. We had work to do. Lissa, Allison, and I would be leaving for Chicago on Sunday. I wouldn't be back until summer, so I needed to clean out my dorm room. We wanted to rush over to Jack's house and visit the boys, but we knew they'd all had a hard night, so we decided to wait until later in the day. We didn't want to disturb desperately needed sleep, so moving out of the dorm was the first order of business after breakfast. It wasn't that big a job to move because most of my stuff was already at Lissa's. Melody and I found some comfort in the fact that we were moving things to Lissa's house and Melody decided that she was going to move the rest of her things at the same time. That was more challenging because she still had things in my dorm room and in her original dorm room, as well as what she'd already moved to Lissa's. Sandra came to help us gather things from Melody's dorm room and load them into Lissa's van. She said that Kate had convinced Amy to take her roller skating around Green Lake and show her Amy's dance moves. We decided that when we were all loaded we'd cruise by that direction and see if we could spot them. We didn't see them and finally Allison, Melody and I got things back to Lissa's house and took all our crap downstairs. "Geez, you guys have a lot of stuff for living in a dormitory. I forgot what it was like to have to move out in the spring." "Where do you live now?" I asked. "I rent a two-bedroom apartment with three other girls. It might as well be a dormitory with two single beds in each room and no weekday overnight guests allowed. The only good thing is it has two baths—or I guess they call it one-and-three-quarters. There's only a shower and no tub in the en suite. But I've got good roommates and the gal I share my bedroom with has a boyfriend with an apartment, so most weekends she's at his place and I have my own room." It was fun to hear more about Allison's life at KSU. "You don't have to move out in the summer?" I asked. "No. We just re-upped our lease so we don't have to move out until after we graduate next spring. It's a real relief to have a permanent home instead of temporary housing." Melody and I looked at each other. It was the big question on both our minds. Were we moving into permanent housing? Lissa, Melody, and I had talked about it a lot. We all three said we wanted to live together, but we had our family obligations, as well. After the tournament, I'd be headed to Nebraska to spend time with my parents and reconnect with old friends. Melody's mother and father planned to meet her in Chicago next weekend and spend a day with my folks before they went back to Boston. Lissa, of course, had a job and two kids. She'd be coming home from Chicago and we'd be in three different parts of the country for the first time. We had agreed that Melody's and my things would stay at Lissa's house until we got back and then we would decide on permanent living arrangements. I just hoped I wasn't moving back to the dorms. ------- "Maybe I should stay in the car," Allison said when we pulled up in front of Jack's house. It was located close enough to Lissa's place that they were in the same school district, but in vastly different neighborhoods. Jack lived in a small, older home that looked like it was out of a 1950s TV show, complete with a big front porch and storm door. We grabbed Allison's hand and dragged her along with us as we approached the door. We knocked and waited. Finally, Jack opened the door. He looked terrible. He held up one finger in a wait-a-minute gesture and lowered the glass pane on the storm door so he could talk to us through the screen. "I'm sorry, guys, but you can't come in. Lissa's orders. This bug is really bad and she doesn't want you exposed to it." "Is everyone all right?" Melody asked. Well, of course not, if what Jack was saying was true. "It's pretty bad," Jack said. "Neither of us have had much sleep. One or the other of the boys has been up all the time. "What can we do to help?" I asked. "Can we see Lissa?" "Lissa will come out as soon as she can. Are you guys willing to run an errand for us? We could use some groceries. I wasn't prepared for this and don't think I should go out if I can help it." "Of course!" I said. At last, I felt like we could do something! I really didn't care what. Jack hadn't unlocked the storm door, so there was no way I could even sneak in. He left and came back a few minutes later with a list and a hundred dollar bill. "Lissa's in the shower with Drew," Jack said when he got back. "Having the steam helps keep his nose and lungs open. She said she'll come out when you get back with the groceries. There's also a new prescription that the boys' pediatrician called in to Walgreen's. Here's my insurance card. It should cover the costs, but if anything costs more than what I've given you, just tell me." "We'll be back soon," Melody said. "You guys are real friends," Jack said warmly. "I know you want to be with Lissa and the boys, but Lissa is adamant about not exposing you if we can help it." We went to the grocery store and picked up several cans of chicken soup, especially the kind with little letters in it that the boys like so much. Milk, juice, cereal ... with three of us shopping, we were in and out of the store in 15 minutes. It was a longer wait at the pharmacy. I couldn't believe the line of worn and tired looking parents who were standing in line for prescriptions and there were even a couple of whiny, sniffling kids being towed along. Melody insisted that Allison and I go back to the car because we had to travel the next day. Melody said that if she got sick it would have less impact. "Maybe I could move in with Jack, too," she joked. It wasn't funny. When we got the medicine and groceries back to Jack's house, Lissa answered the door and took the bags from us, but didn't allow us in. I touched her hand lightly when she took the bags and when she came back from the kitchen she brought a bottle of hand sanitizer and insisted that I use it immediately. She squirted some on each of us and then closed the door again quickly. "I miss you," Lissa said, looking at Melody and me. "Sorry to expose you to all this mush, Allison. I'll get more hand sanitizer if it's too much." We all laughed a little. It was so good to be back with Lissa, even on opposite sides of the storm door. "Well, at least we'll all be back together tomorrow," I said. "Do you want us to pack for you?" "About that, Tony," Lissa said, looking down at her feet. "I'm not going to Chicago with you." ------- Chapter 16 Of course it all made sense. Logical. Not to mention, the only thing we could do. Not only were Lissa's kids sick, she was coming down with it, too. She simply wouldn't—or couldn't—travel. I decided on the spot that I wouldn't go either but the heated argument that ensued left me at three to one against my cancelling the trip. Lissa said she would send instructions to Allison on coaching me through my first round. Sam would be headed out on Tuesday, but there was no way he'd make the early matches and it was pretty much guaranteed I'd be playing in one of the first two flights. Pairings would be announced Monday morning. "So how would you like to be Ice Queen for a day?" Lissa asked Allison. "I'm depending on you to make sure Tony settles in, gets to the right places at the right time, and wins his matches, got it?" "You're really going to risk sending your boyfriend across the country with me?" Allison said. Lissa looked at me and smiled, then looked at Allison. "Tony knows what to do," she said simply. "Right, Melody?" Melody smiled and nodded. "Oh he sure does!" ------- It was a four-hour flight and we lost two hours crossing time zones, so it was already after eight p.m. when we landed. With the baggage fuck-ups and waiting for a taxi on Sunday night, it was ten by the time we got to the hotel downtown and got checked in. It was all of five minutes later when I realized Allison and I were staying in the same room. The room had two queen beds in it. When Lissa originally made our reservation, she decided to keep costs down and share one room. Rooms cost a lot more in Chicago than in Tempe. But that arrangement was made when Lissa was going to be with us. Now it was just Allison and me. ------- We went about our nighttime routines, taking turns in the bathroom. I was nervous. I didn't know what to expect from Allison and I still wasn't sure I wanted anything to happen between us, even though both Lissa and Melody assured me that they expected something to happen and to enjoy myself. I was in a three-way text session with my girlfriends when Allison came out of the bathroom in a short terrycloth robe, drying her dark hair. My lovers wished me goodnight and pleasant dreams, complete with a few giggles. I set my phone aside and turned in the bed I'd labeled "mine." Allison was still standing between the beds in the robe. Her bed had not been turned down yet. "Uh ... Allison," I began. "I don't want you to get the wrong impression. I really like you and all, but..." "Exactly what would the right impression be?" "That we're just a couple of friends sharing a room, right?" "Yes, we're just a couple sharing a room," she teased. "Allison, it's not..." "Shut up, Tony." That brought my eyes up to focus on hers. She held me with a serious look and then, to my amazement and fear, she unfastened her robe and let it fall to the floor. I can't deny my body's reaction to the sight not three feet in front of me. I was too close to take in all of her at one time, but as the robe fell, so did my eyes. Like Lissa, Allison is muscled and toned. She's an athlete. Her breasts are bigger than Lissa's. Hell, I think they are bigger than any of the girls' I'd seen over the past few weeks except Sandra. She has small dark areolae that are high enough on the curve of her breast that the hard nipples almost point toward the ceiling. Beneath these perfect mounds is a flat stomach and deeply indented navel. The swell of her hips and the rise of her mound are a counterpoint to the shape of her bosom. Her landing strip is as precise and neat as the rest of her body, her labia smooth and glistening. As I looked at her, she slowly turned around, modeling her backside as calmly as if she were a manikin in a store window. Beautiful as her front was, her back was where her real power showed—maybe because there were fewer distractions. She had great muscle definition in her shoulders and back and she flexed her glutes to show that if her butt wiggled, it was definitely on purpose and not the result of uncontrolled fat. I could trace with my eyes the line of muscles I'd drawn in my first sketch of her as she raised on her toes and the muscles in her legs shifted beneath her pale skin. She continued her rotation until she was facing me again. "So, Tony," she said casually. "Do you see anything you haven't seen before?" Well, I'd noticed a small mole just below her left ass-cheek, but I was pretty sure she was referring to the fact that she'd been naked in front of me twice before—once for most of a day. I was working my mouth, but words weren't coming out. "Look, guy, I'm here as a substitute for Lissa. I'm going to do my best for you like Lissa does. I may not be her, but I'll still do whatever is necessary. Now, as your coach, exactly how much sex do you normally have before a competition?" I thought back to Tempe, the only competition I'd been in since I started having sex at all. Lissa had been firm in not having sex before the match. I had my defense. "I never have sex before a match," I said with relief. "And that is exactly how much you can expect to have tonight," Allison said firmly. She reached behind her and took her t-shirt off the bed. She slipped it over her head and pulled it down. It only reached her waist. Yes, her magnificent tits were covered, but that landing strip was like an arrow pointing to the Promised Land. "Tony." "Huh?" "You're still staring at my pussy." Well, Christ! Allison! It's right at eye level. If it was any closer, I'd need reading glasses. What do you expect? Okay. I needed to get myself in focus and lighten up a bit. "Oh yeah. Well, you see, Melody's always talking about you being a girl with real balls and I was just checking to see if I'd missed something." We laughed and the tension left the room. What a relief! She turned toward her bed and pulled the covers down, bending so that I had an absolutely clear view from the other side. "Well?" she asked as she crawled into her bed. "Find anything?" "No ... but ... don't you wear panties or something to bed?" She finally pulled the covers up and my eyes started to settle back into my head. "Naw. After having been exceptionally naughty and wantonly displaying all my womanly charms to a horny guy a few feet away from me, I might need emergency access before I can get to sleep," she said, turning out the light. "'Night!" That definitely wasn't meant to make my night more relaxing. In fact, I ended up soothing myself quietly in the bed across from her, imagining exactly what kind of emergency she was experiencing as I came in my tighty whities. ------- In the morning, Allison was all business, and she proved herself an efficient coach/manager. We were up early and headed for United Center where the Bulls play basketball and the Blackhawks play hockey. They bring in big boxes to set up each racquetball court complete with floor and ceiling. The one at center court was Plexiglass so spectators could sit around on three sides. The end wall was solid. With the seating pulled back to the hockey boundaries, there was room to set up 12 courts, plus an open area in the middle for the glass box. Tempe was great, but this was massive and unbelievable. Only half the courts were fully set and operational when we got there at 8:30 and they were already full with athletes who were there early. Registration went smoothly as far as I was concerned. Allison just told the person at the desk that Coach Grant was sick and she'd been sent by SCU to fill in for her. Since racquetball is a club sport and not an official NCAA sport, there's no clear demarcation about who is and isn't qualified to be a coach. I could have brought Mr. Miyagi. In addition to the rigidly set times on the official courts, six local athletic clubs had facilities available for and even some matches. With more than 350 competitors in town, court-time was at a premium. The practice schedule was already set and we discovered my court reservation was not only at a club miles away, it was 20 minutes ago. Then I saw Allison go into action. "This is not acceptable. You can't assign a practice session before registration opens in the morning." "All the athletes currently on the courts had practice before registration opened. We just got them in and they register afterward." "And how did they know to be here at that time?" "They were all notified." "Tony Ames was not notified." "We sent the information to his coach." "His coach is ill." "Not our problem." "Do you know who his coach is?" That stopped the conversation. The registration person shuffled through the papers. "Someone named Lissa Grant," the woman said. She looked blankly at Allison. "Would you please call someone to the registration table who knows racquetball?" Allison said coolly. "There's really no need," the woman answered. "There's nothing anyone can do about it." "I'll call the tournament director then. I have his private number," Allison said, pulling out her cell phone. "Unless you can get someone over here with some authority." The woman looked at Allison carefully and got up from the desk. She was out of her depth and knew it. They didn't hire her to deal with this kind of crap. She was only supposed to take names and issue credentials. "I'll go get my supervisor," she said as she left. "Tony! How are you man?" I turned around to see who in the world would know I even existed. I found myself face-to-face with Karl Higgendorfer, the reigning A-division champ. "Oh ... hey, Karl. Good to see you." We shook hands. We hadn't said much to each other in Tempe and I was surprised that he even recognized me here. "You getting ready for your practice court?" "Trying. They tell me my practice court is in someplace called Cicero and it was 20 minutes ago," I said, trying to make light of it. "No way! Is the Ice Queen with you? She'll rip them a new one," Karl laughed. "Unfortunately she's sick, but Allison's doing a damn good job on my behalf." Karl looked around me and noticed Allison for the first time. They held each other's eyes for a moment and I could see Allison fighting not to smile at Karl. "Al-li-son?" he drew her name out emphasizing every syllable. "What have you got yourself into?" "Hey Karl. I'm substitute Ice Queen today," Allison answered. She was no longer able to hold back the smile and stepped up to Karl. They hugged like old friends. "Tony, I heard it was this girl who got you in trouble in Tempe. You trust her here?" Karl asked. "We've gotten to know each other a little better since Tempe," I said. "Lissa picked her to chaperone me in Chicago." The registration lady was back with an official looking guy in a sports coat and open collared blue shirt. He had a tag on that said "STAFF." He pulled us aside and Karl stepped up to the table to register. "I'm sorry," STAFF said. "I don't know how this could have happened, except that Tony is unseeded and it's pretty automatic to send them to the furthest clubs. We sent Ms. Grant an email on Saturday telling her to take her athlete directly to the club and just give his name for admission." Allison explained that Lissa had been sick and unable to look at email over the weekend. My phone vibrated as Allison was explaining and, appropriately enough, it was a message from Lissa. It just said, "Sick sick sick. Glad you aren't here!" I showed it to Allison and she turned it so STAFF could see it. "Please express my sympathy and good wishes to Ms. Grant," he said. "Let me see what I can find later in the day. We may have had a cancellation or a late flight. This will take me a few minutes. We nodded and I turned around to almost plow into Karl. "I've got an idea," Karl said, "if you guys don't mind. I heard what happened. I've got court time for an hour at 11:00. Why don't you join me?" I looked at him blankly. "Me?" I squeaked. Karl laughed at me and turned to Allison. "Ms. Perkins, I was pretty disappointed that I didn't get to play against your boy here in Tempe. I've beaten Rob Snyder every time we've met. While I was watching Tony play in the semis I thought sure I was going to get some fresh meat for the finals. Really a tough break with the ankle." He turned to me. "Fully recovered?" "Yeah, thanks," I said. "I'm taping, but it's pretty solid." "Then how about a pre-tournament match-up?" "You've got to be kidding. Why would you want to play me?" "Well, I've got reasons, and—no offense intended—it's not likely that we'll meet in this tournament. If we both win every match, it would be the fifth round before we meet according to the brackets. If one of us drops to the lower bracket, there's no telling if we'd meet before finals. I'd like to find out what I missed out on in Tempe," Karl explained. "Karl?" Allison looked at him and dragged him away, just snapping at me to "stay!" STAFF was coming back with a clipboard and a worried look on his face when Allison and Karl rejoined me. "I'm sorry," STAFF said. "The best I could get for you was court time here at 10:30 tonight for half an hour. I know it's not optimal with Tony's first match at 11:00 tomorrow morning and the banquet tonight, but I'm afraid it's the best I can do." "It's okay," Allison said, much to STAFF's relief. "We've worked out another solution. Karl Higgendorfer has issued a pre-tournament challenge to Tony Ames during his practice time at 11:00 this morning. Does the tournament staff have any objections?" STAFF looked up at Karl and became almost obsequious. "Mr. Higgendorfer, is this true?" "Yeah. I understand there's going to be some media guys here and I want to show them how I plan to treat my opponents this week," Karl said. "Tony's my sacrificial lamb." Shit! What was I into now? Allison agreed to this? There's going to be media watching Karl warm up and he wants to pummel me in front of them? I was about to blow up when Allison grabbed my arm and hauled me away. "Shut up and don't make a scene. That's my job," she said. "Karl has to talk big. Don't let it get to you. We've got an hour to get you dressed and in focus. Are you with me, Tony?" She sounded so much like Lissa that my head snapped into the game. I reached for my headset and thumbed in my best playlist. In a second, Queen was shouting "We Are the Champions" into my ears. Allison walked straight into the men's locker room yelling "Cover your dicks!" as she walked through to my assigned locker. Only I heard her mutter, "or don't." She sat me down on a bench and pulled my shoe off to wrap my ankle. She did a good job, too. I had enough freedom of movement to feel like I wasn't playing flatfooted, but enough support to make it comfortable. As soon as I was taped, Allison slapped me on the rump and said, "Get ready." Then she left the locker room with one last call back to the room at large. "As you were, gentlemen!" One of the guys caught my attention and I pulled my headset off. "Sorry to interrupt you, but was that... ?" "The Ice Queen," I completed for him. I nodded and snapped the headset back in place. I saw Karl across the room and a buzz was starting among the players. Of everyone here, the only ones I'd met were Karl and Rob Snyder. I hadn't seen Rob yet. But everyone who Karl spoke to turned to look at me. I didn't know what he was telling people. I was dropping into my zone. ------- If I hadn't had that time on the court with Karl, I'd have died a quick death the next morning. Karl's practice time was in the Plexiglass court so the media could get good pictures of the action. Playing in a glass cube is nothing like playing in a regular court. You can't see the fucking walls! Karl took me down 11-1 in the first game. I didn't feel like I was even giving him a workout. All he did was serve. When we finished, that game Karl motioned both our coaches into the cage. "Coach, Tony's new at this and you know Allison. She can play the game, but she can't explain it," Karl said. "Could you tell Tony how to see the walls so we can give these guys a good game to write about?" The older guy grinned. "You sure you want the competition, Karl?" he asked. "It's my last collegiate competition, Coach. A guy's gotta have some fun." Karl and Allison batted the ball around a bit in the forecourt while his coach took me aside. She was feeding him backhands against the front wall and I noticed how consistent she was before the coach spoke. "I'm Sim Brown," the coach said. "You can call me Coach. Now what do you see here, Tony." He slapped his hand against the side wall. "I see glass," I said. "No you don't," he answered. "You see through glass. You don't see the glass. You could if you really focused on it, but for all your life, you've trained yourself to not notice the glass. You see a window, you look through it. You don't look at it. You can't change what you see, Tony." "That's the advice? I can't see it so live with it?" "No. You have to really not see it." I had to have looked a thousand questions at him. He chuckled. "If your coach was here, she'd tell you this. There's no way to explain it without being in the glass cage," Sim said. "Lissa Grant is a fierce competitor. She wouldn't have let you get this far if she thought you depended on the visual reference of walls to know where the ball is going. Think about what you see when you're playing against her. When she serves to you, what do you see?" "I see where the ball is going to be when I return it." "Yes! Thank god!" He sounded like I'd just solved the encryption code for the National Defense System and could abort the warheads. Play Tic-Tac-Toe, Joshua. "That's what I mean by not seeing the walls. You have to forget about the walls, Tony. Play the ball where it's going to be." He slapped me on the shoulder, snatched the ball out of the air before Allison could serve to Karl again, and flipped it to me. "Service!" he called and ushered Allison out of the cage. I stepped into the service area with a new understanding. It didn't have to do with the walls. It was all about where the ball would be when I wanted to hit it. I served two aces to Karl and when he tossed the ball back to me I saw the grin on his face turn feral. Now, let's play racquetball. With the two point lead, I traded points with Karl for the rest of the game and took it 11-9. The third game was what racquetball is all about. We were scoreless after 15 minutes, and I was up 7-6 when the coaches pounded on the door to tell us our time on the court was up. It didn't count as a victory, but Karl shook my hand as we stepped off the court and a dozen camera flashes went off. There were easily 50 people watching our challenge match, but most of them were just watching Karl, I was sure. I'd worked up a good sweat and Allison gave me instructions to shower, hot tub, shower again, and come through to the trainer's room. When I did, she stretched me out on a table and gave my back and front a pounding like I'd never experienced on a massage table before. There wasn't a tight muscle on my body when she was done with the massage. Well ... only one. ------- As soon as I got out of the arena and we headed back to our room, I started texting Lissa and Melody to tell them what had happened during the morning. It was so cool. I knew Melody was still in class, but I expected a response from Lissa. It didn't come for quite a while. Then... "I'm soooo sick. Boys are running around like crazy. Jack and I are taking turns puking in the bathroom. Wish I was there. Congrats." I was going crazy. It was just coming up noon on the coast and I waited till it struck before I dialed Melody. I told her I was worried about Lissa and the boys and what she had texted me. Melody said not to worry and to focus on my tournament. She'd take care of everything. "Melody, I love you both like crazy, you know that don't you?" "I know it, darling. But remember, this is your big week. Don't let anything here spoil it. We'll manage; I'll make sure of it. Don't bother Lissa until you hear from me. She doesn't need to be running to the phone if she's heaving in the john." "I know, Little One. I miss you." "Miss you, too, lover. Have fun in the windy city. Hey! Open a window; maybe you'll get a blow job!" I groaned and we finally let each other get off the phone. When I finally got off the phone, Allison was standing next to the door tapping her foot. We'd changed into street clothes for the dinner tonight and I was expecting to just veg until then. She told me to grab my sports coat and get going. "Where?" I asked. "Claude Cahun," she answered. "Another competitor?" "In a manner of speaking. Been dead a few years, though. Let's go." ------- I'm not all that into photography, but when Allison told the cab driver to take us to the Art Institute of Chicago, I knew I was in heaven. I got so lost in the exhibits—hauling Allison around by the hand and explaining the different styles and techniques—that it was 6:00 and we had to rush to the hotel convention center for dinner. What a great way to pull the pegs out from under my nervousness over the match tomorrow. I met soooo many people! A lot more of them knew me, simply because they watched Karl's and my challenge match this morning. It seemed that even more had watched the You-Tube video that was posted. Guys were coming up to meet me and I'd swear they were sizing me up. There were over 350 competitors, their coaches, the referees, and the staff at the banquet. Yuri Gedov was the speaker. He dominated the international scene three years ago and was one of the movers and shakers trying to get racquetball recognized as an Olympic sport. A little hard to understand, but no worse than Bychkova's Art History class. A number of people left early and I assumed they were the ones with nine o'clock matches in the morning. Mine wasn't until eleven, so I could sleep in, get a leisurely breakfast and probably be bouncing on my toes by seven a.m. By the time Gedov's presentation was over, I was bouncing in my seat and Allison grabbed my hand and dragged me out of there. ------- I called Melody before bed and she filled me in on the condition of each of our sick loved ones. The boys had been deemed too healthy to stay in the same house as Jack and Lissa. Melody and Kate picked them up after their last class and took them back to Lissa's house. "Kate's been a life saver," Melody gushed. "I don't think I could have done it alone. The boys are in bed asleep now and Molly will be here before we have to go to class tomorrow morning." "That's great. But Lissa's still at Jack's?" "She was in as bad of shape this morning as the boys were Saturday night. Don't worry, love. They are both too sick to cheat on us." "Melody, I wasn't thinking..." "Of course you were, silly. So was I. I just want her here with me. Instead, she's protecting all of us by staying in quarantine until she's passed the contagious stage," Melody sighed. "I do wish you were both here with me," I said. "Instead of Allison?" Melody teased. "Melody. I'm in competition, remember?" "Yeah. I just hope I get there while you are still playing. I can't wait." "Me either." "Speaking of which..." Melody said. "It's a big lonely house and both Kate and I are used to sleeping with a roommate, so I thought, if it was okay, that we might..." "You want to sleep with Kate?" I asked. Shit! So did I. "Not actually with her. Just in the same bed. Do you mind?" "Honey, you know how I feel about Kate. You are free to bring her on board." "Oh, it won't be that." Melody lowered her voice, perhaps afraid that Kate would hear her. "I don't think Kate would sleep with any of us without the others." "I think I know what you mean, Melody. Treat her well. We'll all be together again soon." ------- The Ektelon National Singles Competition is a seeded tournament. The first match in each division is between the top player in the country and the last player who made it into the playoffs. When, as in this case, there are 17 players out of 64 who were had less than 30 points and were there by virtue of having played in a qualifying tournament—like me—there is a drawing to determine the order of the last 17 places. I was 14th. At least I didn't have to face Karl Higgendorfer in his "warm-up" match. Been there. Done that. I was in the second flight of competitors. Eight courts were used for men's singles, Division A. Four courts had Division B in them. Periodically, Women's matches would also be played. Then here was Open Division and Pro Division. It would be 5:00 tonight before the second round began. I got a call from Mom & Dad just as we were entering the arena. They wanted to know what court I was on and let me know they were there and had seats, but didn't know if they were where they should be. I checked the schedule and confirmed that they were in front of the court I was to play on in a couple of hours. When I came out of the locker room, Allison was waiting for me. She took my music player and changed the playlist. "Lissa says she loaded this playlist for your first match. She wants you to listen to the first song and then you can put it on random or go straight through it or skip things as you wish." I nodded and started the player while I stretched and warmed up. I wasn't familiar with the piece, but it had a nice Latin rhythm. Just listening to it made me want to sway my hips. I looked at the title but it was in Spanish. I signaled to Allison. "Do you speak Spanish," I asked, pulling the headset away from my ears. "Two years in high school. Why?" "What's this mean?" I pointed to the title of the song: "Besame mucho." Allison leaned in and listened from one side of my headset and grinned. "Cesaria Evora. I prefer Andre Bocelli, but I can see why Lissa chose this one. It's much more primal." "Yeah, but what's it mean?" "It's a message from your coach," she said. She picked up the melody in a nice voice and sang "Besame. Besame mucho." She looked into my eyes and said, "It means 'Kiss me. Kiss me a lot.'" I grinned. Lissa was here with me. I was going to play some serious racquetball. The rest of the playlist was all salsa music and I was moving as if I was in a Samba by the time I entered the court. I actually won the toss. That was a first. I started my serve. The walls of my court disappeared around me. All I could see was where the ball was going to be. My opponent never had a chance. ------- Sam and Bree had arrived just after my match started and they met up with Allison and me and my parents after it was over. "Impressive," Sam said, shaking my hand. "You should thank Karl Higgendorfer for that." "Why?" I asked. "The challenge match against him that you won yesterday," Sam replied. "Your opponent went into that match assuming he'd lost already." "And after this match, you just cemented the opinion," Allison agreed. "You're kidding!" It never occurred to me that by playing well against Karl in the warm-up yesterday would have a psychological effect on my opponents. Well, on me, too. "When's your next match?" Dad asked. "Not until nine tomorrow morning," I answered. "If I'd lost, I'd be playing this evening. I can't believe I'm still in." I introduced Mom to everyone. Dad had met them in Tempe, but he didn't realize Allison was filling in for Lissa. He cocked an eyebrow at me and Mom expressed her disappointment that she didn't get to meet my girlfriend. "Don't worry, Mom," I said. "Melody will be out Thursday night and we'll all have dinner after I finish whatever round I'm playing." "Well, get dressed, son. Let's all go out to a nice lunch," Dad said. I agreed. ------- When I came out of the locker room, Bree separated herself from the rest of my entourage and met me at the door. She held out a cloth bag. "Please deposit your dirty laundry here," she said in a nasal tone that made me laugh. "You don't have to do my laundry, Bree. I think I can handle it." "No way. That's the team manager's job." "What team and what manager?" I asked. "The joint college racquetball club that is still looking for a name," Bree said. "And I'm the team manager." "You can't have a club or a team when there is only one player," I answered. "Right. That's why I've been recruiting. In addition to you, we now have three men and one woman signed up to start practice in the fall." "No kidding? Nice job. Anybody I know?" "Oh yeah. Remember Tonya?" "Six foot tall women's basketball player?" I asked. "Wicked! But you still don't have to do my laundry, Bree." "Tony. I owe you and Melody and Lissa a big apology. I was way out of line Friday night. I did some stuff before the party and it turned me into a ... it wasn't me," Bree said. So she had been drinking ... or something. "The Athletic Director has encouraged me to re-evaluate my life goals and has ordered me to lay off the Welcome Wagon routine. I'm going to do better, Tony. I promise." "So you really want to wash my uniform?" "After every match you play this week. I'm really sorry, Tony." I reached in my duffle and pulled out a soggy shirt, shorts, socks, sweatband, and jock and stuffed them into her cloth laundry bag. "Okay, manager. We'd better join my trainer, coach, and parents before they leave for lunch without us." Bree linked her arm in mine and we went to join the crew. ------- I had not just one, but two great meals, about a hundred text messages from Lissa and Melody, a million laughs with Mom and Dad, and still ended up in my room and ready for bed before ten. I was talking to Melody and Lissa when Allison came out of the bathroom with just her night shirt on. Her bare ass and pussy were prominently in view and instead of getting into her bed and hiding them from me, she sat on her bed, lifted a foot and started painting her toenails. In that position, her labia parted and I had a view right up the middle. I faltered in the phone conversation and Melody said, "Tony?" "Oh ... um ... yeah. Sorry. I got distracted for a minute." "Okay. What's she doing?" Lissa asked. The worst of her nausea had passed and she was sounding human again but her nose was still plugged. She'd suggested that she would be home in the morning. "Well, she's ... um ... painting her toenails." "And... ?" "And she's just sitting on her bed. You know, the other one, not mine." "And... ?" I looked up from Allison's pussy and met her eyes. She had a smirk on her face and shifted positions. If anything, it opened her up even further and I could see the sheen of moisture gathering on her lips. Okay, I thought. I can give as good as I get. All three of these girls seemed to be asking for it. "Well, remember what Allison was wearing at the slumber party ... I mean when she was wearing anything?" I'll never forget the first glimpse of her in that little short nightie shirt and blue panties, even staring at her naked pussy. "Well, she's not wearing it now. The crop-top she's got on is shorter than her nightie, and I guess the panties were just for show. She says she needs emergency access in the middle of the night or something." Both my girlfriends were giggling. "So she's sitting bare-assed in front of you?" Melody asked. "She remembers the rules of tournament play, doesn't she?" Lissa laughed. "Oh yeah. She stays on her bed and I stay on mine," I answered. Allison was staring at me with her mouth open almost as wide as her pussy. I don't think she was expecting me to describe her to my girlfriends. "As to her ass being bare, I can only assume so. It's her front that's on display. The thing is I can already see the telltale signs of an impending emergency." With that, Allison put the nail polish on the table and dove under the covers, covering her head as well. "Yep. By the way she just dove under the covers, I'd say the emergency was imminent," I laughed. Got her, the tease. "Well, you need to get some sleep now, Tony," Lissa said. "We've all had enough excitement for tonight." "But, if you have an emergency of your own to take care of, we could talk you through it," Melody added. "Phone support?" With the visual stimulation I'd had and the lingering scent of Allison's arousal in the air, I knew I wasn't going to sleep without some relief. I turned off the light and snuggled into the bed while I listened to Lissa and Melody for another ten minutes, occasionally answering their questions about my state of arousal. Just at the point of my climax, I heard a gasp and squeak from the bed opposite me. Hmmm. Simultaneous emergencies. ------- I crashed and burned against the 13th seeded player from Loyola Marymount in my first match of the morning. I played well, but I was just plain out of my league. The guy had an incredible match. It made me wonder how I'd ever managed to hold my own against Karl on Monday morning. I guess I just wasn't in the zone. That put the pressure on for my next match. I had no time for remorse, as the next elimination round was at eleven a.m. and I was fighting for my life. This was another of the unseeded players who had lost in the first round, but had already fought back through his first elimination match. We were pretty even and I barely pulled out a victory in the last game. I was able to get a quick bite to eat and a clean uniform, but I wasn't in the mood to socialize with anyone before my five p.m. match. I sat in the stands and put on my headset. I hadn't done any drawing since I got here. Allison and I left right after my match yesterday. Now I had time and the inclination to sketch as I watched the action. I did do a few player sketches, but I found myself daydreaming and snapped out of it when I saw I'd sketched a truly beautiful torso and pair of elegant breasts. I closed my sketchbook and tried to think who those beauties belonged to. When I figured it out, I blushed. Overall, it didn't help me in what was to be my final match. I met another of the top seeded players who had dropped down at the same time I did. I don't think I'd ever played anyone who was so fast on the court. No matter where I put the ball, he was there. I didn't disgrace myself, but I still lost. My first National Singles was over. ------- I was on the phone with Lissa and Melody when I got out of the locker room to meet up with the rest of the crew. Lissa was feeling tons better and was home with Melody and the boys. Kate was with them, too, and had kept Melody from falling apart while she had responsibility for the boys. Molly had them while the girls were in class and then they took care of all the nighttime rituals and got them to bed before collapsing. After Melody got out of her morning class, she went to pick up Lissa. With luck, it looked like the rest of us had avoided the contagion. It was nasty, but short-lived. "Kiss to each of you," I said. "And kiss Kate for me for being such a great help." "Oooo! Kate!" Melody called. "This is from me because you were such a big help this week." There was a pause and I could imagine the two girls' lips coming together. "And this is from me," Lissa added. "I would have been lost without help this week." I was smiling as I imagined Lissa placing a loving kiss on Kate's lips. "Oh, that was nice," Kate's voice came over the phone. "But what about... ?" "And this is from Tony," Melody interrupted. I heard a sudden "oh!" squeak out. "It takes both of us to give you a Tony," Lissa said. Oh my god! Kate must have been overwhelmed by a two on one lip-lock. I could feel a tightness in my jeans just imagining what that looked like. "Thank you," I heard Kate tell my girlfriends. "Um ... anytime. Really." "Sounds like you two have your work cut out for you tonight," I laughed. "Just innocent play," Lissa said. "Unlike what you are likely to have. You're not competing tomorrow, you know." Damn! I hadn't thought about the fact that I was still sharing a room with Allison and there was no longer a competition prohibition against sex. Oh man! I really hoped she was all tease and wasn't expecting too much. "I might bunk with my folks," I said, softly. "No way," Melody said. "Have fun, lover boy." I looked up from my conversation and everyone was looking at me, waiting for me to join them. Mom held out her hand for my phone. "Love you," I said. "I think Mom wants to talk to you." I handed her the phone. "Hello dears ... No it was very exciting to watch him play ... You'll still come for the weekend, won't you, Melody? ... Wonderful ... No, of course I won't... 'Bye now!" Mom disconnected, tucked the phone in her purse and said, "Now we can go have an uninterrupted dinner." ------- I couldn't believe the dinner. There was a steakhouse near our hotel and the steak was in-fuckin'-credible. I plowed through my appetizer, soup, steak, baked potato, salad, vegetable side, and was ready for dessert. I thought of what Bree had told me on the flight from Tempe and reached over to snatch a bite of mashed potatoes off her plate. She looked up at me and I winked. She actually blushed. I tried the same thing with Allison and she slapped my hand away and told me to order more if I was still hungry. She is really protective of who touches her food! We had dessert—an incredible hazelnut chocolate torte with Frangelico ice cream for me—and coffee. Bree nudged me and slid her cheesecake toward me to offer a bite, which I accepted and offered her some of my torte. Allison observed what was going on and nudged me from the other side. "You have got to try a bite of the Crème Brulee," she said, offering her plate to me. Then to cement the deal, she dipped her fork into my torte and helped herself to a big bite. My mom and dad were leaning in together whispering as they watched the action surreptitiously and almost choked on their laughter when Allison pushed her plate at me. "Bree," Sam finally said when we were all well sated, "we have an early flight back tomorrow. We should call it a night. I think we've done all the scouting we can do for this trip. Tony, it was great seeing you on the court. We're going to be proud to have a racquetball club at SCU. When will you be getting back to town?" "I'm not really sure yet, coach," I answered. I looked at my folks. They were really expecting me to spend some time in Nebraska this summer. I just wanted to be back with Lissa and Melody. "I haven't got my schedule firmed up yet." "Well, call us when you get back to town. You are the de facto president of the club and we need to discuss the formation rules and negotiate court times." Sam shook hands with my mom and dad. "Ready, Bree?" he asked. She gave me a big hug and a peck on the cheek—demure behavior for Bree. She glanced once at Allison with just a hint of jealousy showing in her face. "Ready, Father," she said and they left the restaurant. My dad settled up the tab and we headed back for the hotel. Dad was whistling some tune that I sort of recognized and he and mom broke up laughing. Even Allison snorted. When we got to the hotel lobby, Mom and Dad decided to go to the lounge for a nightcap and they hugged us goodnight. He pulled me aside while Mom was hugging Allison. "You've got a unique relationship with several women," he said quietly. "Don't disconnect from your head. Make good decisions, son." That was the extent of his fatherly advice and Allison and I headed into the elevator while Mom and Dad headed for the lounge. "Your folks are hilarious," Allison said in the elevator. "Did you hear what he was whistling?" "I kinda recognized it, but couldn't place it. Some Broadway tune, I think." "When I'm not with the one I love, I love the one I'm with," she sang sweetly. Really nice voice, in fact. "Finian's Rainbow, 1968 with Fred Astaire and Petula Clark." "How do you know these things?" I asked. "Theater major," she said. Then she sang the line again. "Yeah, about that, Allison... ," I said as I put the keycard in the door. "Oh shut up and get ready for bed, Tony." She grabbed her night shirt and went into the bathroom. I got second turn tonight, showered the last residue of the day off and pulled my briefs on. When I walked out of the bathroom, I found Allison in my bed. "Did you get so into swapping food tonight that you want to swap beds now?" I asked. "Come to bed, Tony. The competition is over. I'm going home tomorrow. Please, come to bed." I knew this was going to happen. Truth is, I was already half hard when I came out of the bathroom. Melody and Lissa had made it pretty explicit that they expected me to make love to Allison, in fact that they would if she'd let them. There was nothing to hold me back. I walked over to the bed and pulled back the covers. When I discovered Allison was naked, I removed my briefs and slid in beside her. She rolled toward me and we kissed with our bodies pressed together under the covers. Over the past week and a half, Allison and I had explored each other pretty thoroughly with our eyes. There had been a few subtle gropes here and there and the time Melody and I bit her nipples, but for the most part, we hadn't really let our hands wander. Now with all barriers cast aside, we let that kiss linger as our hands investigated each other's body. Squeezing her breasts beneath my fingers was delightful. Holding her firm ass in my hands was incredible. Feeling her stroke my cock the first time almost sent me over the edge. I nibbled at her nipple and she sighed, pushing my hand down toward the heat of her sex. I was willing to go down on her, but she held me close to her. "Just make love to me Tony," she whispered. "I'm ready." My fingers had already told me that she was hot and slippery and she'd smeared my precum over my cock. I rolled over on top of her, feeling her erect nipples raking across my skin as I slid down to get into position. Allison was beautiful. She was hot. She wanted me. I want her, I thought. But I kept seeing Lissa and Melody and missing them. I kept hearing my dad say, "Make good decisions." What was it I really felt that was causing me to hesitate, suspended over Allison with my chest grazing her nipples and the tip of my cock touching her moist opening? "Allison," I said looking deeply into her eyes, "does this feel right to you?" ------- Chapter 17 Allison's eyes burned into me. I cringed, at least in my head—yeah, if looks could kill. I could almost feel my brain frying. Great timing. Does this feel right? "I hope you mean: are you hard; am I wet; and is your cock lined up to penetrate my steaming twat?" Allison growled. She thrust her hips toward me, trying to force me into her. I backed off. I wasn't teasing, exactly. Crap! What was I doing? "I've wanted this for a month, Tony. It feels good. Don't get all moralistic on me now." "I don't mean morally or ethically right, Allison. I'm asking if it's right for us. Are we just going to screw and then go our separate ways? I don't want that." "Shit! We're really going to have this conversation now, aren't we! Damn it!" Allison twisted out from under me and turned away. I saw her shoulders heave. "We're going to talk about feelings and love and the future and when I say 'no, it doesn't feel right, ' we're not going to do it, are we?" She shook and sobbed, lying facing away from me, but not far enough for my cock to get the message that it was no longer needed. She felt my hardness and aggressively pushed her butt back into me for more contact. I wrapped her in my arms, spooned behind her. "Ally," I said, soothingly. "I'm sorry." She jerked her head toward me, tears glistening in her eyes. "What did you call me?" "Um ... Ally. I'm sorry if you don't like it..." "In all the time you've known me, you've never shortened my name, given me a nickname, called me by some little endearment. Why now, Tony? Why now?" "I felt ... I'm sorry ... I just..." I wasn't being very clear and I was probably sending messages that were as mixed as what I was feeling inside. "Geez, Allison, I don't know." "Don't stop!" she said, turning fully toward me and pressing herself against me. "Please don't stop calling me Ally. No one has ever..." "Shhh. It's okay, Ally. I won't stop." We held each other for long minutes. I was intensely aware of her nipples pressing against my chest and my cock lying against her stomach. We kissed—softly. It reminded me of the sensuous loving kiss she gave me during the contest when she mimicked Lissa. And that got me thinking about my two beautiful girlfriends back home. "It's the girl thing, isn't it?" Ally whispered to me. "What is?" "The thing that's not right. I think the world of Lissa and Melody," Ally said. "And when a girl kisses me, I have to admit that I get a little squishy inside. Melody and Lissa especially. But the thought of actually ... you know ... being with ... making love ... putting my face down there. Oh god! I just can't imagine doing that. And you three are like one person ... well, in a way. No one could possibly be with one of you without being with all of you. And I can't." Maybe that was it. Melody and Lissa had given me express permission to make love to Allison, fully anticipating a kiss-by-kiss replay when we were together. Somehow, actually being with Allison, though, made me feel apart from Melody and Lissa. It confused the hell out of me. Physically, my erection was straining my limits. Just being cuddled with Allison, I could feel her juices flowing onto my thigh where her pussy was pressed against me. Inside, though, I was aching to share this moment with Lissa and Melody. But that was still only part of it. "Ally, it's not that, or it's more than that," I began. She delayed my words a moment with another sensuous kiss that we both enjoyed immensely, but then she released my lips and let me continue. "We don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose you," I whispered. "I want you to be my friend and part of my life for a long time, and I'm afraid that once we cross that threshold—both of us wanting more than the other can give—that we'll lose each other. And as to Melody and Lissa," I said looking intently into her eyes, "that would hurt them as much as it would me." "You are so lucky, Tony." "I am lucky. I feel like I've won some kind of mega-lottery and I can't even comprehend how rich I am." We lay there quietly for a while. In our heads, we'd reached the same conclusion, but our bodies were still on a different wavelength. Allison rolled onto her back and I let my hand slide off her shoulder and onto her breast. It was so natural and full in my hand. She moaned slightly and pulled my head back to her for another kiss. Our breathing was coming hard, and I just knew that our bodies were going to betray us, right or wrong. We just couldn't pull ourselves apart. I felt her hand on my hand over her breast and she tugged it down across her silky muscled abdomen. I felt her thin patch of pubic hair and then the moisture of her slit as she pushed my hand firmly into it. "Ally..." "Shut up, Tony. This is an emergency. If we don't do this, I'm going to fuck you whether it's right or not." With that, her hand left my hand to do what came naturally and I felt her fingers wrap around my cock. Two naked adults, wrapped in each other's arms, kissing passionately, with no reason in the world not to copulate, but still satisfying each other only by means of mutual masturbation doesn't make rational sense. We'd established a boundary that we could live with and build a future on, though, and when we screamed our mutual orgasms into each other's mouths, both spraying our juices onto the hand and body of the other, we were even closer than we could have been if fucking. We curled into each other, our hands still connecting us, and slept. Of course, there were two more of Ally's emergencies. One came early in the morning as my cock slid smoothly between her ass cheeks spooned behind her, my fingers still coaxing her clit to spasm as I came against her back. The other in the shower, covered in soap and shampoo. ------- Ally left the shower before I did and used the hair-dryer. I kissed the back of her neck as I slipped past her out of the bathroom. I dressed for a day with the 'rents and held a whispered conversation with Lissa and Melody before Melody had to go to class. The two-hour time difference meant that I caught them just after they'd stepped out of the shower. "Well, lover-boy, how did it go last night?" Melody asked. "Not like you expected," I said. "You mean you didn't... ?" "Not exactly." "This sounds like a good story. Is everything okay, Tony?" Lissa asked. "Yes, darling. Everything is fine, just not what you were expecting ... or at least not what I thought you were expecting." "I know," Melody said. "Let's wait until I get there tonight and then we can ... call Lissa and you can tell us all about it." "Actually, I'd like that," I said. "I wish you were both here in my arms." "You cannot imagine how much we wish the same thing," Lissa said. "But if you are okay and Allison is okay, then I guess we can wait for the details." "I promise, I'll tell you everything," I answered. "I love you." I'd just disconnected when I looked up and saw Allison standing in the bathroom doorway. She had a towel wrapped around her that barely covered the distance between her nipples and her clit. A sudden move in any direction would make the towel superfluous. What struck me most, though, was that she had dried her hair and it positively glowed as it hung straight below her shoulders. And the makeup. Pretty much all the girls I know—or know well enough—look stunning with no makeup at all. That doesn't mean I'm blind, though. When the girls were all made up to go to the gala last Friday in their formal gowns, they were truly amazing. I'm just shallow enough to appreciate the glamour aspect of a little makeup tastefully applied. Other than at the parties, I hadn't seen Allison wear more than a little eye-liner and lipstick. What I saw now was a strikingly beautiful woman who looked like she could walk down Michigan Avenue and own it. The look was soft but very sophisticated. Before I could say more than "Wow!" though, she was questioning me. "You really will tell them everything, won't you?" Allison said. "Yeah. We don't hide anything." "You'll tell them how I tried to force myself on you?" "We all have our viewpoints. I'll tell them how I forced myself to stop and how we reached an understanding." "How you tickled my clit while I stroked your cock?" "They'll be disappointed. They expected me to tickle your clit with my cock. A play-by-play of passionate love-making." "It was." Allison flicked her wrist and the towel fell to the floor. Have I mentioned her tits before? Yeah, I suppose I have. Still, when an athletic girl as beautiful as Allison stands there naked in front of you, it's hard not to mention them again. And the flat, firm stomach. And the smooth lips of her labia. And... "Um ... Ally? Are you having another emergency?" "Sort of, but different," she answered. She was serious. "Am I pretty, Tony?" "God, yes! How could you ever doubt that?" I asked. I started to get up to go to her, but she held up her hand to keep me away. "Would you draw me, Tony?" she asked softly. "Really draw me? Not just a little sketch? Not a group? Just me?" This was more than a request for a picture. I recognized it. Thank god, I recognized it. Ally understood what happens when I draw. She'd seen the quick sketches I did in Tempe and that was enough to make her want to model the first time. But since then, she'd seen what I could really do. She'd seen the mural with Lissa and Melody. And she'd seen the drawing of Kate. She wasn't asking for a drawing. She was asking me to show her how I see her. She was asking for the connection. And I was feeling it. I held out my hand and she took it so I could lead her to the one fully made-up bed. The one we'd slept in last night was a shambles. I pulled the covers back neatly and arranged the pillows. She followed my guidance as she propped herself in the bed and I positioned the pillows from the other bed behind her to provide a little more support. She leaned against the pillows with her left arm over them so that her head was held high. This gave her some support under her upper torso so she wouldn't have to do stomach crunches the entire time she was posing. This drawing was going to take a while. I covered her with the sheet and blanket, amused at the scowl she gave me. She must have thought I didn't want to look at her body. Then she smiled as I placed her hand on a corner of the sheet and flicked it to her hip where she could hold it comfortably as if inviting me under the covers with her. She naturally repositioned her right leg with the knee slightly bent and drawn up. Her face was already taking on a look of inviting seduction. The final touch was to position her left hand so it was held out to me. When I stood back, I wanted nothing more than to undress and join her. "I need some music," I said, reaching for my headset. "Can I listen, too?" she asked. "Without a headset, the quality of sound is pretty crappy," I said. I contemplated the problem a minute and then had an idea. "Why don't you sing to me?" I asked. "Sing what?" "You choose. Create the soundtrack. Sing me love songs." "Really, Tony?" "Mmm hmm." I was already ripping through a warm-up sketch with just the key lines that I would base the drawing from—the curve of her hips, the position of her head, the peaks of her breasts, the extension of her hand. She smiled and then began to sing, softly and playfully. "Oklahoma, 1955 with Gloria Grahame as Ado Annie," she said. I'm just a girl who cain't say no, I'm in a terrible fix It was light and whimsical. I sketched rapidly through another warm-up, then looked at a fresh, blank sheet of paper. "Are you sure you want me to sing love songs?" she asked. I looked up to her eyes. There was a pleading look there. "I want you to sing songs you love," I said. "Sing from your heart." She announced each song before she sang it, as if she was in a recital. I let my eye take in the negative space. Artists all work differently. Sandra starts from a dark background and draws out the highlights. I work from bright white illumination and draw the shadows. Two such different styles. The space between Ally's arm and her body. The space between her breasts. The shadow beneath her chin. The cleft between her legs. "The King and I, 1956 with Rita Moreno and Carlos Riva," she said. We kiss in a shadow, We hide from the moon, Our meetings are few, And over too soon. I took time to let my eyes focus on her magnificent breasts. Well, my eyes were being drawn there regardless, so I shaped them in my sketch, used my thumb to caress the curve, blending up out of the shadow, pinching off the definition of her nipple exactly where light met dark. Following the hollow down to her tight abdomen, gently expanding and contracting as she sang. "The Music Man, 1962 with Shirley Jones and Robert Preston" There were bells on the hill But I never heard them ringing, No, I never heard them at all Till there was you. I was ready to look at her face. Her makeup highlighted her cheekbones, not in an artificial way, but almost the way I would use a tortillon to blend the hollow of her cheek into the crested highlight. I looked at her lips as they moved in song and froze them in my mind as I quickly bent to capture what I had seen in that fleeting moment. Damn, she has a nice voice! "South Pacific, 1958 with Rossano Brazzi." I'll keep rememberin' kisses From lips I've never owned Her outstretched hand was inviting me to her. She is strong. Forearms ripple with the muscles she flexes when she grips the racquet. But here, stretched out on this bed, the same power is translated to a beckoning gesture, too powerful to be ignored. I reach toward her on paper with graphite in my hand, touching those fingertips and sliding our hands together. "The King and I, 1956 with Rita Moreno and Carlos Riva," she said. Hmmm. I thought we'd done that one, but... "I thought that was the bald guy ... Yul Brenner and ... I don't remember the girl. Dad has the album." "Deborah Kerr. They were the King and Anna. Rita and Carlos played the star-crossed lovers Tuptim and Lun Tha." "Oh." "Just listen." I have dreamed that arms are lovely, I have dreamed what a joy you'll be. I moved to the folds and casual draping of the bedclothes, framing her in a background that rippled around her, defining her shape by what surrounds her. That background, the hotel bed, defined where we had not gone. The pillows that supported her were a cushion to her feelings ... and mine. "Carousel, 1956 with Shirley Jones and Gordon MacRae." If I loved you, Time and again I would try to say All I'd want you to know. I'd avoided looking at her pudenda, where I'd originally drawn three strong lines that defined her shape. Now I let my eyes explore the subtle shapes and contours exposed there. I measured with my pencil on paper the depth of that cleft, the soft bristle of her hair. I walked in graphite a path my fingers had found and loved. "Tony, you're staring at my pussy again." There was a hint of teasing in her voice, but only a hint. "It's different this time, Ally. I'm drawing." "What makes it different?" "I'm memorizing it." She caught her breath and I heard a deep and mournful sigh. "Phantom of the Opera, 2004 with Emmy Rossum and Patrick Wilson." Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime... say the word and I will follow you... Many artists start with the eyes. They are the window to the soul, as DaVinci said. Or maybe it was someone else. I guess nobody knows for sure. What I know is that they are where the connection occurs. I'd drawn an entire scene of nine women and had scarcely taken my eyes off Kate's. But for some obscure reason, I'd avoided Allison's eyes as I sat drawing her. Maybe I was afraid of what I'd see there. Afraid of the connection I could feel. But as I sat looking at the unfinished sketch, it was obvious that the time had come. I lifted my eyes and met hers. I had to memorize a Shakespeare speech in high school as part of my English Literature class. The teacher ruled certain speeches off limits. He wanted no one to ruin his memory of Sir Laurence Olivier saying, "To be or not to be," for example. But he also directed us to other speeches that were less known, but offered a challenge. The Friar's speech about flowers in Romeo and Juliet, for example. He'd specifically pointed me to the speech of the Player King in Hamlet. But, as we often see, against some storm, A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, The bold winds speechless and the orb below As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder Doth rend the region... Seeing Ally's eyes brought me to that moment. I didn't know what to expect, but the suspense of that look took my breath away. There was a deep silence and I simply knew that something awesome was about to happen. "La Boheme, Puccini" I had no doubts that Ally had the chops to tackle an opera, but she'd been quoting the movie production and date of every musical she'd sung from so far and I couldn't think of a movie version of La Boheme that had ever made it to the big screen. "Heavenly Creatures, 1994, sung by Kate Winslet," she supplied. I saw her diaphragm contract and expand three times before the first sound issued from her throat. Sono andati? Fingevo di dormire perche volli con te sola restare. Ho tante cose che ti voglio dire, o una sola, ma grande come il mare, come il mare profonda ed infinita... Sei il mio amore e tutta la mia vita! I had no idea what it meant, but the beautiful, plaintive tones filled the tiny hotel room and every corner of my heart. I almost forgot to draw as I was sucked into the depths of her eyes—my fingers taking over from my mind and capturing the mist that gathered there, the single tear that streaked from the corner of her eye down her cheek. It was silent for a moment. We looked at each other, not wanting to move. Then, from outside our door we heard clapping and a man calling "Brava! Brava, Diva!" The moment was lost and we both snorted. "Tony, I don't think I can hold this pose any longer." "Oh, Ally, I'm sorry!" I said. God! We'd been like this for over an hour. Her muscles must be killing her. I reached out my hand and lifted her up to a sitting position. As soon as she'd regained her equilibrium she stood facing me, still holding my hand, and still very, very naked. "Tony, promise me something," she said softly. "If I can, you know I will," I said. She pulled my hand to her pussy and pressed it there, not asking for anything but the external contact as she held her hand on mine. She pulled my other hand to her breast. It was almost like some formal oath-swearing and not—for all the locations I found my hands—not overtly sexual. "Promise that when it's right, you'll make passionate love to me, Tony. Promise that on that day or night, whenever it is, that you won't hold anything back." "I promise you, Ally. When it's right, there won't be anything held back," I said. I kissed her lightly on the lips. She pulled back and looked at me with an evil gleam in her eye. "Swear on the pussy," she said in a low voice that could have come from a 1920s melodrama. "I so swear," I said, mimicking her tone and giving her mons a little squeeze. She laughed and dropped my hands. "Look at the time, Tony!" she exclaimed. "If we don't get out of here, your parents will think we've eloped!" ------- "It's a little late for breakfast," Dad said when he saw us at the door. "Would you like to join us for lunch?" "Sorry, Dad," I said sheepishly. "I was drawing. The time kind of got away from us." Dad nodded his head. Mom came to the door, raised one eyebrow at me, and we headed down to lunch. We sat in a little café and it was apparent to me that something was bugging my folks. There wasn't much I could do about it unless they asked something. I certainly wasn't going to provide details about my sex life, or lack thereof. "When Tony was a little boy..." Dad started. I cringed. This was going to be another embarrass Tony story, I could tell. "He must have been, oh ... about ten, I think. He disappeared. He was gone an entire summer day. We called the neighbors, all his friends. No one had seen him. It was beginning to get dark and we were getting very worried." He took Mom's hand and she nodded her head. "We'd called the sheriff and were on the phone to the police," Mom continued Dad's story. "The minister came to our house and our next door neighbors brought over a casserole. That's pretty common in the Midwest. If there's an emergency, there's a casserole." I couldn't see a casserole helping with any emergency of Ally's. "I looked out the window and Tony was pedaling his bicycle as hard as he could up the road and into our driveway," Dad said. "I never hit Tony in my life, but at that moment I was torn between hugging him and taking my belt to him. The hugging won out, but I had to be stern and lecture him about how worried we were and how worried the neighbors were, and that the sheriff was looking for him. Then the preacher got in on it and he cut me off." "We're not very religious people, Allison. So the simple fact that the Lutheran minister had stopped by to see if we needed help, was very impressive." I knew the rest of this story now. I was still going to be embarrassed. "Rev. Larkin said, 'Tony, everybody is worried about you, but why don't you tell us where you were?' I hadn't even thought to ask that," Dad said. "Well, Tony looked at the preacher and just said, 'I was drawing.'" I remembered it clearly. I'd been completely caught up in just watching and drawing. It was a point that I thought of now as the first time I'd entered 'the zone.' I just forgot everything around me. "The preacher wasn't satisfied," Mom picked up the story. "He asked to see what Tony had drawn." I decided to get into the story myself. "I'd been given a sketchbook for Christmas the year before and some pencils, but I'd never had a particular interest in them. For some reason, that day they just seemed like the most important things in the world to me," I said. "Tony pulled out the sketchbook and showed us what he'd drawn. The book was full. It was like giving a kid a camera and letting him go, so I'm told," Dad said. "They take pictures of everything, and sometimes they take many pictures of the same thing. The sketchbook was like that. The first half dozen pictures were of the same rock in a stream not far from our house. Then there was a picture of a tree trunk, one of a sign that I recognized as being about a mile from our house, one of the abandoned barn out in Wilson's back forty. There was even a picture of a chipmunk. I couldn't figure out how he'd got the little critter to hold still for so long. It was like Tony was discovering the world in a new way." "Rev. Larkin quietly leafed through the book," Mom said. "Every once in a while he'd show us one of the pictures. He just nodded his head, patted Tony and shook our hands. He quoted some Bible verse about the prodigal having come home and to rejoice. Then he left." "The thing is," Dad said, "we never knew Tony had that talent until that day. I've never questioned him since when he said he was drawing." And with that, Dad left the question hanging in the air. Mom and Dad wanted to know what I'd been doing all morning (and all night) with Allison. They were completely willing to accept that I was in love with two women, but they were absolutely horrified by the idea that I'd cheat on them. I was getting steamed that my parents were prying into my personal affairs, so to speak. They really had no business and I was ready to tell them so when Allison jumped in. "Did he listen to music while he was drawing back then?" she asked simply. "No," Dad said smiling. "That came a while later." "I wanted to listen, too," Allison continued, "but his player doesn't sound good without headphones or speakers, so he had me sing while he was drawing." "You wouldn't have believed it, Mom," I said. In a few words, Allison had completely defused the situation. What a great girl! "Just when we'd finished, this guy stops outside our door and claps yelling, 'Brava, Diva!' She is really a good singer." "I'd love to see that drawing!" Dad said enthusiastically. Suddenly, Allison was very shy. "Um ... I'd rather not show you," Ally said. "Tony gave it to me to take home. It's kind of..." "Oh don't worry, dear," Mom said. "We know Tony paints nudes. We won't pry anymore." "It's unusual, though," Dad mused. "Usually a girl wants a picture of her boyfriend, not of herself." I shrank into my chair. Dad! Geez! "First off, there are two answers to that double-sided question, Saul," Allison said before I could blow up. "The first is that Tony isn't my boyfriend. I'd like him to be, but as much as I love Melody and Lissa, I just couldn't be to them what they'd need me to be. You know, if you date one of them, you date all three." Oh! Way to go Allison! I was afraid this was really going to hell, but I chose to stay silent and trust to the goddess beside me that it would come out okay. "The second answer is that I know what Tony looks like and I have a very good memory," Allison said. "What I didn't know is what Tony sees when he looks at me. No mirror would ever show me that." Mom was crying. Dad reached over and took my hand. He just nodded his head to me. Mom had to explain, though. "It wasn't your father, Tony. I really like Melody and Lissa, even though I haven't met them in person yet. And the boys are so precious. I kept your father up all night, and not in a good way. I was so worried about what would happen today when they ... when Melody gets here. This week just didn't go the way anyone planned." "It's okay, Mom," I soothed. I could never stay angry when my mom was distressed. "Allison is our very good friend. Very good. But she would never do anything that would hurt Melody, Lissa, or me. And I wouldn't hurt them, Mom. I'd die if I hurt them." "Well," said Dad. "I think we should go watch some racquetball, unless you have other plans. Isn't your friend Karl playing this afternoon?" Racquetball. Ya gotta love it. ------- I was excited. The good thing about having been eliminated from the tournament was that I could take Allison to the airport in Dad's car and pick up Melody when she flew in. Melody's flight was scheduled to arrive at 6:20 p.m. and Allison's was taking off at 8:30 p.m. We carefully scanned the security lines when we got there to make sure that Allison wouldn't have difficulty making her flight if she waited with me for Melody at baggage claim. It would be a brief reunion, but fun. With the sexual tension between us relieved, Ally and I were completely at ease walking through the airport hand-in-hand. She had one more year at KSU and wanted to know what tournaments I'd be playing in so she could meet us there. Of course, I had no idea what the schedule would look like. In fact, I almost dreaded finding out. I still didn't know how I was going to handle my class schedule, which was totally screwed up because not only was I pursuing two different degrees in two different colleges, but PCAD was a semester school and SCU was on a quarter calendar. It was going to be a train-wreck. We stopped at a huge board showing arrival and departure times for everything in and out of O'Hare airport to find Melody's baggage claim area. While I was looking down the list of arrivals, Ally shouted from the other end of the board. "My flight's delayed! It's not leaving until 9:30 p.m. I don't have to rush away when she gets here." I laughed as she grabbed my hands and danced in a circle. I was wondering who was more excited about seeing Melody. Okay—stupid question—I was. But Allison was pretty excited, too. Of course, Melody's flight was delayed as well, but only half an hour, so we figured we'd still have a good overlap. We sat with cups of coffee and waited near the exit from the gates for Melody. Man, they can't even make national brand espresso taste good in an airport. Most of my cup went untouched. "I've got a question," Ally started. "Should I get one of those guys at the information stand?" I asked before she could continue. She slugged me in the arm. Glad I wasn't planning to play more racquetball this week. "Those are Moonies, not information," she shot back at me. "I'm serious." "Go ahead and ask then." "I've got a year of school left, but I've been investigating what I'm going to do afterward." "With your voice, you should be headed for New York. I'd be there for every opening night," I smiled. "That's like telling a high school girl that with her figure she should go to Hollywood and become an actress. It doesn't work that way. You have to pay more than union dues. Right now, all my credits are college theater. I need professional credits eventually," she said. "And New York isn't where you get professional acting experience?" "No. One of my professors said that trying to make it on Broadway was like trying to get a last minute ticket for the Titanic. Don't get me wrong. It's still the biggest. But theater is happening all over the country now. In fact, there's a dinner theater near where you live that employees nearly two percent of the working Equity actors who are employed at any given time." "That has to be the Wagon Wheel Playhouse, right?" I asked. I was new to the area, but I was aware of some of the things that went on culturally around town. "Do you think you could get a job there?" "Maybe. I was wondering ... This is a little awkward ... I wondered if I'd be welcome if I moved near you. I did a little research while I was there. I couldn't party and play racquetball all the time you guys were in class. Anyway, there's not only the opportunity to work in theater, there are also a couple of good graduate programs. But, I'm not sure if I should apply to anything out there because..." I was up out of my seat and around the little table we were sitting at before she could finish her sentence. I pulled her up out of her chair and wrapped her in a big bear-hug. "Ally, you will always be welcome near us. Don't ever think we don't want you around. None of us know what life is going to be like a year from now, but we will always want our friends and family near us." I was hugging her so tightly that she actually pushed me away a little so she could catch her breath. I was about to kiss her when my eye caught something else. "There she is!" I shouted when I saw Melody coming around security. Then my heart jumped higher than I had. "Both of them! They both came!" Allison was right beside me as we rushed to sweep my lovers into my arms. I shared a deep three-way kiss with my lovers as surprised passengers stepped around us. Allison wrapped her arms around all three of us for a group hug. "Lissa, you came too!" I was still so excited that my voice was an octave higher than normal. "I couldn't miss this weekend with the parents," Lissa said. "Believe me darling, if I hadn't been so sick I'd have been out here on Monday as soon as the boys started feeling better." "Besame, besame mucho," I sang, slightly off-key. I'd listened to the song so many times the past three days that I was getting the hang of it. I pulled Lissa to me for a very enthusiastic one-on-one kiss while Melody faced Allison. Allison's eyes were sparkling, shifting from Melody to Lissa and me and back to Melody. Her chest was heaving as if she was having trouble breathing. Then, as Lissa and I parted and looked at her, Allison pulled Melody to her and planted an enthusiastic kiss on her that so surprised Melody that her eyes popped open in wonder. That didn't stop her from returning Allison's kiss, though. When Allison broke away she was panting even harder and without waiting for anyone's response, she pulled Lissa into an equally hot sampling of her luscious lips. Lissa got a very dreamy look on her face as Allison pulled away. "Oh god. Oh god. Oh god," Allison panted. "Oh god. That was so good I almost forgot you were girls. God! I wish I could ... I want ... damn, I love you guys!" And with that she cleansed her palette by attempting to swallow my face. "Wow!" Melody said. "That was nice, Allison." "But Allison," Lissa said quietly, putting her arm around the brunette. "We're not trying to convert you. You don't have to do anything with us you don't want to do." "Tony told me ... showed me," Ally said. "I don't know if I can ever physically love a woman, but I know that after these two weeks I love all three of you. It's going to be so hard to go home and deal with 150 pre-teens a week at summer camp. All the time I'll be thinking of the three of you." We collected Lissa's and Melody's bags and then walked with Allison to the security lines for the boarding area. Once there, we had another round of hugs and kisses—a little more demure this time. Just before Allison was out of reach in the line, I reached over and grabbed her hand. She watched as I took her index finger and sucked it into my mouth. Then I held the next finger and Lissa slipped it into her mouth. I could see Allison flushing as Melody took the ring finger into her mouth. I kissed Ally on the cheek and whispered, "In case of emergencies." ------- Chapter 18 With the late flight times, I'd persuaded my folks to wait until breakfast to meet Lissa and Melody. Mom was disappointed, but we would have Friday and Saturday together and then we'd each have to go our separate ways on Sunday. Melody's parents were slated to arrive tomorrow around noon. I just wanted a little time to get reacquainted with my lovers. There was a man standing in front of our door with a bouquet of flowers. As soon as he saw us approaching he rushed straight up to Lissa. "Diva!" he exclaimed. "When I heard your singing I could not tear myself away from your door without hearing the last strain. Puccini! So wonderful!" "I'm sorry," Lissa said. "That wasn't me." Before she could explain, the guy turned to Melody. "Bella Dona!" he shouted, nearly kneeling before her. "A thousand pardons. I heard only the voice but did not see the beautiful woman who possessed it." I cleared my throat. "Sir, the singer checked out this afternoon. We are her friends," I said by way of explanation. "Oh! I am crushed. That voice should be on the stage! I am so sad that I missed her." "I can give her that message," I said. "We heard you applauding outside the door." The guy blushed a little. He was short—not much if any taller than Melody—with a round physique and balding head. You could see the color in his scalp. "Thank you," he said. He handed me a card and then offered the flowers to Lissa and Melody. "Ladies, may I leave these in your care. It may not have been your voice, but it was surely your beauty." With that, he hurried away down the hall. ------- We intended to use every second of the night together. Lissa had bought a bottle of bubbly in the hotel gift shop and we ordered a pizza and ate in our room. Our room. Not in all the time I'd been in Chicago had I considered it Ally's and my room. This was always intended to be our room in which Allison was a welcome guest. And, of course, that was the major topic of discussion as we gorged ourselves on pizza. Racquetball be damned; Lissa and Melody wanted a play-by-play commentary on what had happened with Allison. I told them and held absolutely nothing back. "I can't believe that you had your cock touching her pussy and didn't fuck her!" Melody finally burst out. "I'd have killed you." "She nearly did," I said, "but it just wasn't right. As soon as she slowed down, she realized it, too. It would have been the last time we'd have seen her." "You know it was all right with us if you made love to her," Lissa said. "We all wished we could." "But Ally is really hung up on the girl-girl thing," I said. "Ally?" Melody said. "That's cute." "She'd probably join us in bed, but she'd only have sex with me. She just isn't able to cross the physical barrier with a girl," I continued. "She sure did a good job with that kiss at the airport," Melody said as she sighed dreamily. "I thought maybe she'd made the shift." "I think she just got caught up in the emotion," I said. "She really loves you both, and she knows how much kissing a girl gets her turned on, but she doesn't want to go any further than that. We have to respect that. You wouldn't push me into having sex with a guy, would you?" "But we don't want any other guys, Tony," Melody said. "No. But the thing is, if you did, I'd force myself to do it just because I love you. Afterward, though, I might ... no I'd definitely resent it. We shouldn't push Allison to do things she's not comfortable with." "You're right, Tony," Lissa smiled. "We'll be seeing a lot of Allison over the next year, I'll bet. I wouldn't be surprised if we meet at more than one competition." "She started giving me a list, but I told her she'd have to email it to me," I said. "But it's more than that. She's talking about moving out near us next year." "She's serious?" Melody asked. "I think so. She wanted to make sure she'd be welcome to live near us." "Things could get complicated," Lissa said. "But I do like the way she kisses." "That's because she kisses like you do," Melody giggled. "It must be like kissing your own reflection." "Don't be silly," Lissa said. I could tell, though, that she was thinking about it. "We might need a bigger bed," I ventured. That got me gang-tickled. Not that I minded. ------- The remains of the pizza were left on the desk as we took fresh glasses of champagne to the bed. I directed them to the one on the right—my bed. Our clothes didn't make it into the bed with us. When we nested together, you couldn't have told who was on bottom and who was on top, we were so intertwined—each trying to get every square inch of our bodies in contact with both of our lovers. It felt so good to be next to the two people who meant more to me than anything in the world. "You know," Melody said—she'd found my cock with her hand and was gently stroking me, "as much as I'm okay with you making love to Ally, there is something special about knowing that ours are the only pussies this has ever been in. It makes me all warm inside. And it's the only cock that's ever been in me." I wasn't sure who I was kissing at the time, Lissa and Melody so completely shared with each other and with me. That's not to say that I can't tell the difference between the two of them, but while we were wound together just floating in our ethereal bliss kissing any one was kissing the other as well. I could tell the difference between Lissa's breast in my left hand and Melody's in my right, but both hands were on my lovers. That was what was important. We were together. The champagne must have been affecting all of us. We'd kiss, stroke, and giggle. "Are you disappointed that I wasn't a virgin when you met me?" Lissa asked. "No!" We laughed again. Melody and I had shouted out our answer at the same instant. "We wouldn't have the boys!" I said. That earned me a kiss from both my lovers. They thought it was sweet, but I was serious. I couldn't wait to get back home to see them. "And ... if you'd been a virgin, we would have had to go out and recruit a different teacher. Who would have taught us all that stuff?" Melody asked. "Hmmm..." I said. "Do you remember when Lissa taught me about cunnilingus, Melody?" "Oh, darling! The day I forget that, pull the plug. That is the last memory that will be in my mind when I go to the grave. Ohhh." "Speaking of which," Lissa said properly. "It seems that I've been negligent in my duties as instructor, Miss Anderson. Poor Tony has been cooped up in a hotel room with nothing but a stunning brunette with a tightly trimmed pussy and delightfully puffy labia, brimming with feminine essence for the past three days. He's surely suffered. It is our duty as his loving companions to help him through this difficult time." I couldn't believe she got that whole speech out. We were cackling at her school-teacher voice so hard we almost missed what came next. Well, actually there was no way for me to miss it. Lissa and Melody squirmed their way down my body and pried my legs apart—not that it took much effort—so they could both lie between them. Melody blew on my already stiffened cock and the cool air caused me to jerk. "Remind you of anyone?" Melody asked. The rest of my body stiffened, but her little laugh caused me to relax again. "Now here we have the external genitalia of the male homo sapiens," Lissa lectured. She sounded like a pinch-lipped old English biddy. Everything down there was shaking with my laughter. "Shall we start at the bottom and work our way up?" She ran her finger along my crack until it came to rest on my asshole. "Anus," Lissa said. There's a difference between shaking with laughter and quaking with excitement, I found. Melody repeated after her. "Anus. You don't ... like ... lick it, do you?" "You can. Our Tony is nice and clean and there are almost as many nerves there as in your tongue. But there are other ways to lubricate the anus outside and it is absolutely necessary to have lubricant for internal stimulation." "Do you have lubricant handy?" Melody asked breathlessly. "You have plenty between your legs, darling." I lifted my head enough to see Lissa's hand dip into Melody's pussy. Melody imitated her and returned the favor enthusiastically. They kissed long and hard. Together they pressed their now well-lubricated fingers against my asshole. I gasped. Nobody had really played there before. "Just inside, right up here, is the prostate," Lissa said. I moaned as her finger slid into my ass and pressed up against the front of my rectum. My cock jumped. Her finger was immediately replaced by Melody who felt around until she saw my cock jump again. I was already on edge. I wasn't going to last long enough for a blowjob at this rate. I felt a tongue flick the skin between my ass and my cock. "Perineum," Lissa whispered. "It's just like ours and you know how you like that licked." A second flick and I heard the echoed "perineum." "Scro-tum," Lissa said, hefting my ball sack and drawing the word out in her lowest register. It sounded like a troll saying the word. A cute, sexy little troll. "Just a wrinkly old sack, but inside is a treasure." My balls had pulled up tight against me, but the feeling of lips on either side of my sac enticed them down a little. Twin tongues lapped at them until they were hanging loose enough and Lissa whispered, "Testicles." With that, my two girlfriends inhaled a ball each and brought their mouths close enough to each other that their tongues could touch and dance mercilessly across my nuts. Then Lissa began to nibble her way up the underside of my cock while Melody continued to suck my balls. "Spongy urethra," Lissa said. How the hell did she make such bizarre, clinical terms sound so sexy? It might have had to do with Melody repeating the word and following Lissa's trail up my penis, nibbling on the part in question. All lips and tongues suddenly left my cock and I opened my eyes to see my two girlfriends kissing each other while Lissa gently stroked me with her hand. She pulled away from Melody slowly, their tongues seeming to be magnetically attracted to each other even while their lips moved further away. "Frenulum," Lissa whispered. With that, both brought their tongues back together and ran them up under the head of my cock. Oh god! It's so sensitive there. And they just tickled it with their tongues. I was going crazy. All the attention was being paid to my cock and my hands were just itching to touch my lovers. I petted their hair. It was all I could reach and as they licked at me, they both looked up to my eyes. Their eyes were glazed with lust and I could tell they were as anxious about what came next as I was. "Glans penis," Lissa whispered. Melody repeated the word as Lissa engulfed the head of my cock in her mouth, bathed it with her tongue and gave just enough suction to make a pop when she pulled off of it, only to be immediately replaced by Melody. Melody went seriously to work on me then, moving from sensitive spot to even more sensitive spot and back again—sometimes sucking, kissing, licking—making love to my penis. Lissa answered my pleading eyes by crawling up along my body until her lips were next to mine, just brushing me as I tried to capture them. "The best part about having two girlfriends," Lissa said, "is that you can kiss and have a blowjob at the same time." She lowered her lips to mine and we let our passion use our tongues without words. Well, that might not have been the best part about having two girlfriends, but it was pretty damn good! I sensed heat against my hand and realized Lissa's pussy was pressed against me. I turned my hand toward her and began stroking her moist center, teasing her little bud. "Is this what you were doing to Ally?" Lissa asked, just loud enough for Melody to be able to hear, too. "Were you teasing her little clit while she stroked your cock? Oh, Melody. He's got his finger in me. Is this how you respond to emergencies? I think it might create another emergency." Melody paused in her ministrations to my cock and I felt her finger join mine inside Lissa. Lissa moaned when she felt each of us inside her. Once she was good and wet, Melody withdrew her finger and a moment later Lissa's moan became a squeal as Melody looked up at me and said softly, "Anus." "I can't wait!" Lissa gasped and tipped over the edge as we loved her with our hands. As she gasped back to reality, Melody returned to laving my cock with her tongue. Lissa mashed her lips against mine and twined her tongue with my tongue. Then, as she continued to breathe heavily, she moved down my body again. I thought she was headed back to join Mel, but she stopped at my chest. I could still reach and fondle her beautiful breast. "We're back after that word from our sponsors with the exciting climax of Tony's blowjob," she said, sounding entirely like a television sportscaster. Oh god! Laughing did interesting things as my cock vibrated in and out of Melody's mouth and I felt her humming giggle. "Little does Tony know, but the girls have yet another surprise for him." I'd already built up near orgasm a few times and each time they seemed to recognize it and back off just enough to keep me on edge, but I could feel the pressure building and knew it wouldn't be long now one way or another. And the way had to do with Melody slowly sliding my cock all the way into her mouth and throat and then out again. "Oh my god!" I screamed. "You can't have just done that! Oh my god!" I could feel the cum welling in my balls and everything start to contract. Melody slid back down on me and just as my orgasm hit, buried deep in her throat, Lissa sucked on my nipple and raked across it with her teeth. I felt my soul leave my body. ------- "What are we going to do?" Lissa asked. We were cuddled in the bed, hot and sticky from hours of making love, but unwilling to break the contact among us for even as long as it took to go to the shower. The two hour time-change for Lissa and Melody had worked in their favor as midnight didn't seem late and one a.m. was still prime time. "We could just stay like this and order room service again," Melody suggested. She was completely relaxed and still enjoying having me attend to her right nipple with my tongue as we talked. "We can do that," Lissa responded, "but you know what I mean. I was crazy without you two while I was in quarantine. Now you're headed to Boston and Tony is going to Nebraska. I have to go back home to my big empty bed. I don't know how to deal with that. I want to be with you." "I felt so incomplete when I was alone," Melody added. "Even with Kate for company, I felt like part of my heart was missing." "I think that's part of what happened when I was with Ally," I agreed. "It was exciting, but I didn't feel like I was all there." I'd been thinking about this a lot over the past week. Being in Chicago while Melody was in Lissa's house and Lissa was sick at Jack's had been hard on all of us. "I don't know how I'm going to face a month in Nebraska without you. Long-distance relationships suck," I continued. There was a cloud of darkness hanging near my mind and I kept it pushed back by immersing myself again in the touch of my lovers. "I suck!" Melody said brightly. We laughed and Lissa and I demonstrated our ability as well as Melody squealed in delight. We were all panting and laughing, catching our breath. "Can you meet me in the middle?" I asked. "I think I just did," Lissa laughed. "You know what I mean," I insisted. "Come and spend a week in the cornfields of Nebraska?" "I don't think my parents are going to spring for a plane ticket to visit my boyfriend," Melody sighed. "I can already see the chains being put on my bedroom door when I get back." "How are your mom and dad doing?" I asked. "We'll find out tomorrow, I suppose," she said. "It might actually make it easier on me when I'm back in Boston. If they're living separately, they can't watch me all the time." "I could get a week away," Lissa said. "Jack feels like he really owes us, even though none of the sickness was his fault. My job is flexible and with a phone and laptop the store doesn't really care where I am. But with one of you in Boston and one in Omaha, where would I spend my week?" "We're going to have to tough it out and get back home as soon as possible," I said. We kissed in pairs and together, reveling in being held and comforted by our lovers. "Home," Lissa whispered. "Do you really think of it as home, Tony?" "It's where the heart is, as they say," I answered. "When Mom and Dad talk about us going home for the summer, it seems more like going away for a visit." "My mom has started packing up our house," Melody said. "I expect it's the last time I'll ever go back to the place I grew up. She wants to put it on the market before the fall buying season." "Loves," Lissa whispered. "We've talked around this before, but never put the real question in words. I think it's my part to make it explicit." We looked at Lissa and she kissed us both again. "Will you live with me, share my house, move in with the boys and me? Both of you?" I glanced at Melody and she had the biggest grin on her face I'd ever seen. I was pretty sure it was reflected on mine. She beat me to Lissa's lips so I settled for nibbling on our lover's neck until she squirmed from the tickling. "Yes!" both Melody and I told her. "But we have to share more than your house, Lissa," I said. "It means really being a family. I know Melody and I won't be able to hold down great jobs while we're trying to get degrees, but I have housing and food allowances in my scholarship. I want to contribute to the cost of the household and rent." "I do, too," Melody said. "We have to pay for housing regardless. I don't want to move in and just mooch off of you." "Oh sweethearts," Lissa said. "You know I'd just say don't bother, but even from my side, I know how important it is to be partners in this. We'll work it out. I just want you with me." ------- Eventually we slept, woke, made love again, showered, and met my parents for breakfast—on time. Mom was great! She walked right past me and swept Lissa and Melody together into a hug that had "family" written all over it. She didn't hesitate trying to figure out protocol over whether to give the oldest, prettiest, closest, or friendliest girl first greeting. She captured them both and pretty much dragged them away from me toward their booth. Dad grinned and gave me a hug before turning to look at the women. "We'll be lucky to see any of the three of them for the rest of the day," he said. "But Dad, you haven't met Melody yet." I dragged Melody out of Mom's grip for a minute and said, "Sweetheart, I have two parents and you have to meet Dad, too. Dad, this is Melody; Melody, Saul." "I'm so happy to meet you both in person!" Melody squealed, hugging my father. "Hi, Saul," Lissa said, coming back to him. "It's good to see you again." Dad gave as good as he got when Lissa and Melody hugged him and we finally got settled. "Well, I guess I don't have to introduce anybody to Mom," I said. She'd positioned the girls on either side of her, leaving Dad and me to share the bench on the other side of the booth. "Oh, we're old friends now," Mom said. "I talk to these girls more often than I do my own son." My eyebrows shot up. I had no idea they were talking to Mom that often. "Now, how are the boys?" she asked. After the Intercollegiate and our experience with Melody's parents, we decided that we had to tell my folks about the boys right away. We'd sent them the same picture that we sent to Mr. Anderson and they were just as excited about having two little boys to dote over as at my having two beautiful girlfriends. "I hope you don't mind us coming for a little visit this fall," Mom said. "I so want to meet everyone!" "Why don't you come for Thanksgiving?" Lissa asked. "That will give time for Tony and Melody to get settled back in school, and I'll be done with The Open. It's in October and things will be pretty crazy before that." Just that quickly it was agreed that my folks would visit us for Thanksgiving. I thought that was pretty cool. My parents were coming to visit my girlfriends and me in our home for a holiday! Wow! Mom and Dad were pretty amazing. I'd never doubted how much they loved me and supported me, but my first year in college had left me in such a deep depression that there were times I couldn't force myself to pick up the phone to call them. I got so caught up in feeling like I had to be independent and that calling home was a sign of my failure. With Melody and Lissa's help, I realized that part of my depression was feeling cut off from the incredible support I've always had from my family. I loved them like crazy and I was sure my being away at school had been as hard on them as on me. After we'd caught up with how the boys were doing now that the illness had passed, we ordered breakfast and caught up on everything else, including my parents having to deliver a blow-by-blow description of my four matches. "I really want to go back over for the finals tonight," I said. I hadn't felt compelled to sit through every match up to this time, but the Division B finals would be at 3:00 and 4:30, the women's Division A final at 6:30, and the men's at 8:00. I definitely wanted to be there for the last two. "How many tickets will we need, then," Dad asked. "I'll call over and reserve them." "Allison left Lissa her credentials, and Coach Jacobson left his for you, Dad. So we'll need tickets for Mom, Melody, and the Andersons." "Oh yes. And when will your parents be in, dear?" Mom asked Melody. "About noon," Melody said and then hesitated before going on. "I don't know if they'll go to the game tonight or not. My parents are ... um ... not as ... accepting as you are, I'm afraid." "Don't worry, we'll work on them," Mom said firmly. "Well, Mom has really come around, but my father is a different matter. Mom doesn't really stand up to him and I just don't trust what will happen when they're together. With the divorce and everything, I don't know..." Melody shrank down in her seat and looked longingly across the table at me. I reached for her hand, but Mom was there before me and pulled Melody to her like a daughter. "Don't you worry, dear," she said. "It will be all right." She held the embrace for a moment and Melody sighed. Then Mom excused herself and Lissa moved to let her out. "I see I made a foolish mistake when I forced you both to sit with me. Tony, go sit with your girlfriends so I can have my husband," Mom said, shooing me out of my seat. I don't know if she expected me to get between them, but she just smiled when Lissa slid to the middle and hugged Melody, then turned to me and did the same. "It really is," Mom said quietly as she gripped Dad's hand. I looked at her curiously. Dad took over the conversation. "That wasn't a set-up," he started. "But Deborah and I don't have a lot of experience with ... shall we say ... arrangements like yours. So we've done quite a lot of reading in the past few weeks. Do you know that literature is full of threesomes, but most are of the sort where two women share a man or two men share a woman? They are almost without exception two-on-one arrangements. We weren't sure what to expect. We thought you would automatically both move to opposite sides of Tony. But you are truly all three in love with each other. It's beautiful." We looked at each other and none of us could imagine any other way it could possibly be. At the same time, there was a palpable new level of acceptance on my parents' part. We decided that it was time to tell them about our plans for the fall. "It's going to be a hard summer on all of you," Mom said when we'd told them of our plans to move in with Lissa. "We want Tony to be with us this summer, too, but we promise not to keep him away too long. Now that I actually see the three of you together, I can't imagine what it must be like for you to be apart." ------- As much as I wanted to spend all my time in the presence of my girlfriends, and as much as I wanted to share them with my parents, I had another task in mind and I suggested that we spend the couple of hours until Melody's parents arrived doing a little shopping on the Loop. I held a quick whispered conversation with my mom on the walk over to State Street. "Oh look!" Mom shouted as we approached Washington and State Street. "Macy's is having a sale! Surely you boys can give us a little bit of girl-time, can't you?" Dad and I laughed and sent them on their way, promising to meet back at the corner in two hours. "So, shall we just stand here and see how many people we know?" Dad asked. He'd told me a long time ago that if you just stood at State and Washington in Chicago for an hour at any time of day or night, you would meet someone you knew. I didn't have any idea if it was true, but I had a different mission in mind. "I need your help picking out a couple of little gifts," I said. "That's why Mom shanghaied the girls." "I had a feeling there was a plot under way," he laughed. "Lead on!" I'd had some time before Allison left to do a little Internet shopping and found a store just off Michigan on Washington that had what I thought I wanted. When we entered, it was like going into another world. The Loop, especially when you are right under the El on Washington, is noisy. The trains are loud and everyone on the street is shouting to be heard above them. Add the traffic noise and homeless people trying to get your attention and you really can't hear yourself think. But when you walk into this jewelry store, all the noise is left outside. Thick carpet muffled our footsteps as we approached the counter and a very pleasant middle-aged woman approached after we'd had a chance to survey our surroundings. She was friendly and spoke in an equally muffled tone so as not to disturb anyone else around. "Good morning. I'm Miss Hayes. May I help you gentlemen find something in particular, or would you prefer to browse?" she asked pleasantly. Under other circumstances, I'd have bolted right then and there. Everything about this store screamed more money than I'd ever see in my lifetime, but I did have a savings account and was sure I had funds enough to cover the purchase. The problem was that I didn't have cash or a credit card. "May we have just a minute to consult and then ask for your assistance?" I asked. She acquiesced and moved a respectful distance away while I turned to Dad. He raised an eyebrow at me, waiting. "Dad, I need to make a purchase, but a place like this isn't going to take my check and I don't have cash. Can I borrow your credit card and pay you when we get back home? "Ahh. So that is why you wanted me along. Front the bill. How much are we talking about?" "About a thousand dollars." Both his eyebrows shot up. "Are you really ready for this, Tony?" he asked. I swallowed hard and nodded my head. He looked me straight in the eye for a few seconds and I knew not to waver. Then he nodded and said "Okay." I approached the saleslady. "Excuse me," I said. I pulled out my phone and called up the picture I had downloaded from the Internet. "I'm interested in this." She looked at the picture and then back at me in surprise. "You are aware that piece of jewelry is often for groups ... of ... uh ... three?" I nodded my head. She made a slight gesture to my dad and me and looked the question at me. "No," I said. "This is my dad. He's helping me with the purchase." She moved back behind a display case and opened a drawer beneath a display of necklaces. "What configuration would you like?" she asked. I'd only seen one picture, so I wasn't sure what she meant. She went on, "We have it with two gold and one diamond, with two diamond and one gold, and with three of either." "Oh! I'd like the ones with two diamond settings and one gold. And I'll need..." "Two of them," she finished for me. "We don't sell many of these, but we never sell just one." She produced two velvet boxes and opened them. The contents were identical. Two diamond studded hearts were interlocked with one in gold. I snorted a little when I saw them up close. It was the first time I realized that they looked a little like a daisy chain. "Not right?" she asked, noting my reaction. "Oh no!" I hastened to correct her. "They're perfect. I'll need two 16-inch simple gold chains, as well." "Not going to let them hide it," she laughed. "I think we can fix up exactly what you need. Monique?" she summoned another saleslady. Monique was both younger and more slightly built than Miss Hayes. The older woman quickly threaded one of the pendants on a chain and lifted it to fasten around Monique's neck. I could see right away that it wasn't quite right. "May I suggest," Miss Hayes said as she demonstrated by holding the ends of the chain at different positions on Monique's neck, "that you either go with an 18-inch chain so the pendant clears the collar bone, or try a 15-inch chain so that it nestles in the hollow of her throat. If you find that it's not quite right after you've presented it, I'll be happy to trade it for the correct size or cut it if necessary." We agreed on the shorter chain. I thanked Monique for modeling it for me. Miss Hayes wrote up the sale and changed the necklaces from a pendant box to a long narrow box for bracelets and necklaces. The presentation looked divine. I declined gift-wrapping. "This is a lovely gift for two special women," Miss Hayes chatted as she ran Dad's credit card. "Oh believe me," Dad said, "the young ladies are every bit as lovely as the jewelry." She raised her eyes to me. "You are a very lucky young man on several counts," she smiled. "I wish you ... shall we say ... triple happiness." I slid the bag into Dad's jacket pocket before we went to meet the girls and told him I'd get them later. I described what I wanted to do and Dad got that kind of crooked smile on his face that parents get when they can't believe what their kids want, but do it anyway. ------- "Melly!" Lexi said as she approached us across the hotel lobby. When she released her mother from a hug, Melody went on to the formal-looking man behind Lexi and greeted her father. Who wears a suit on vacation? I thought. "Hi Daddy," she said, smiling at him. He didn't hug her, but put both hands on her shoulders and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. Lexi had moved on to give Lissa a hug and then smiled at me and did the same. She glanced over her shoulder as if to make sure her husband had seen. Melody took her father by the hand and led him to Lissa. "Daddy, this is my girlfriend, Lissa." He held out his hand and Lissa shook it but he didn't say a word. "And this is my boyfriend, Tony." He repeated the gesture. His handshake was as neutral as any I'd ever had. There was nothing aggressive about it, but certainly nothing friendly, either. "Mr. Anderson, Lexi," I said, "this is my mother and father, Deborah and Saul Ames." My dad stepped forward to shake first Mr. Anderson's hand and then Lexi's. Everything was silent and I had visions of catastrophe playing behind my eyes. Then Mom stepped into the breach. "Oh the girls have told me so much about you both!" she said, ignoring Mr. Anderson in all but her comment and immediately hugging Lexi. "I feel like I'm meeting old friends. What an exciting time. Have you checked in? We've slated a late dinner so we can all go to the final match of the tournament tonight." "I thought he was eliminated," Mr. Anderson said. I thought he sounded just a little too hopeful about that. "I'm out of the tournament," I said, "but a friend is playing in the final game for a repeat Championship. We're planning to see that." "It was so cool, Dad," Melody jumped in, trying to engage her father in something to break his apparent bad mood. "Tony played Karl in a challenge match before the tournament started and it's all over YouTube. It was amazing. Tony was ahead when they had to stop playing." "But you didn't make it to the finals?" "No sir. I had a great game against Karl before the tournament, but I just didn't have the experience and stamina to hold it together against the competition for the long haul." "That should be a lesson to you," he said, scowling at me. "Daddy, stop it. Be nice." "Melody, I'm here because you wanted me to meet these people. Fine, I've met them. They seem very nice. But you have to face reality, sweetheart. This relationship is doomed from the beginning." "Doomed from the beginning?" Oh shit! The last time I heard my mom use that tone of voice it was immediately followed by "Tony, you're grounded." But she'd swung her focus fully on Melody's father. The guy didn't know what he was in for. "Doomed from the beginning?" she repeated, advancing on the man. He stepped back a pace, but Mom kept coming. "And exactly how is that worse than when you discovered your relationship was doomed?" ------- Way to go Mom! Have I mentioned how much I love my mom? She's almost a foot shorter than Mr. Anderson, but I swear he went from 6' to 4' in 0.2 seconds. Mom was towering over him and going for the coup de grâce when Dad stepped up beside her and kissed her cheek. He turned her smoothly away from Melody's dad, but she was replaced immediately by Lexi. "Oh, Harold. Don't be such an ass. We came here to meet Melody's friends and family. Do be civil." I don't think that Lexi had ever contradicted her husband based on what Melody had told us. He was still trying to form words when Lexi turned to Lissa. "How are the boys, Lissa? Is Jack coming out this weekend?" Wow! By the expression on his face, it might have been dawning on Mr. Anderson that he'd lost, but I wasn't sure if he realized how much he'd lost. "Oh the boys are doing fine now," Lissa answered. "Kids recover from these things so much faster than adults do. Kate and Molly agreed to take turns with them this weekend so I could come out here with Melody and Jack could continue to recover. I think he got hit hardest of the four of us and he's just getting back to normal. You have his phone number, don't you? You should call. I know he'd love to hear from you." "Why don't we let these kids go save us seats at the arena," Dad suggested. "The four of us could have a mid-afternoon cocktail before we join them." Dad is one of the best peacemakers I've ever seen. I've never heard him raise his voice, even in his classroom. He had Mr. and Mrs. Anderson in tow with him and mom and waved the three of us off to the games. I looked at Melody and Lissa and all three of us heaved a sigh of relief. "Well, that went better than I expected," Melody said, rolling her eyes to clue us in on her sarcasm. "What a shit!" "Mel, honey," Lissa soothed, "we knew from the phone conversation a few weeks ago that he was going to be a tough sell." "At least he didn't take me hostage and drag me off the airport," Melody sighed. "Tony, your mom and dad are soooo nice. Wanna trade?" "I don't think we actually get to trade in this situation," I said. "I think we have to share." "For better, for worse," Lissa said. Melody and I looked at her expectantly. When Lissa realized what she'd said she blushed and we all started laughing. "Darling, that almost sounded like a proposal," I said as we headed off to the arena. ------- The matches were great. By the time our folks joined us, it was almost time for the men's final. Dad was in rare good spirits and I wondered how many afternoon cocktails they'd all had. Mr. Anderson seemed a little mellower. He'd lost his tie, at least. Mom and Lexi were gossiping together like they'd known each other a hundred years. They all enjoyed the match, but I was spellbound. Karl was phenomenal, of course. But this guy, Brian Summerol from Clarkson University out East was a demon. "That's who you'll have to beat to win the championship next year," Lissa said to me. She leaned in close and made sure I was seeing his "isms" as well as the unbelievable plays he was making. Karl fought through to eke out the championship by two points in the last game. "How did I ever get ahead of Karl when I played him?" I asked, shaking my head. "You haven't watched the video yet, have you?" Lissa asked. I just shrugged and shook my head no. "It's going to be part of your training this fall. Probably for your whole club. Your little challenge match got 25,000 hits on YouTube before we came out here. It's probably double that by now. But this one will have three times that number. It was no more amazing, but it will have the title attached to it." "This will be on YouTube?" "I'm sure someone will figure out a way to put it up there, but it will be on ESPN and USAR websites by morning. Yours will be pulled up a lot as we head into the fall." "Why would anyone want to watch me play when they could see this?" I asked. This was a match that I'd be spending hours watching. It was like going to racquetball school and seeing the masters teach a class. "Brian is a junior. That means he'll enter next season as the number one seed and national silver medalist. Karl is the unifying gauge of talent," Lissa explained. "Any time a competitor draws a match with someone Karl played in this tournament, they'll view that video. And then everyone will view the video of Brian playing him to see how it's different. They'll all figure they have to beat Brian to get to the podium. But once people start seeing your match with Karl, they'll start comparing the two. They'll be able to see exactly how you both played against the same champion and no one else will count. The target on your back is almost as big as the one on Brian's." "But I'm only..." " ... only a freshman," Lissa supplied. "That's what makes you so dangerous. You've got at least three years of eligibility ahead of you. You are the biggest threat to any upper classman ever getting to that podium." "Shit." ------- We had Chicago Deep Dish Pizza at for dinner—this time at Pizzeria Uno. These guys really know how to make pizza. We had to wait 40 minutes to get in and the pizza didn't arrive until nearly an hour later. By that time we were all so hungry that we'd gone through the breadsticks and the older folks had finished two bottles of wine. Lissa had a couple of glasses, but switched to sparkling water before things started getting rowdy. We walked back to the hotel in a ragged line and it seemed like there were a lot more jokes being told than were being laughed at. When we got into the hotel lobby, things took a turn for the worse. I was wondering when the other shoe would drop, so to speak. It was a big shoe when it fell. "Melody, you and your mother can go to our room while I have the bellman get our bags and deliver them," Mr. Anderson said as we were all hugging Mom and Dad goodnight. "That's okay, Dad. I have a room of my own with Tony and Lissa," Melody answered sweetly. "Not in my house!" he bellowed back at her. "This isn't your house," Melody shot back. "And I won't be staying in any house that doesn't welcome my lovers." "You will get yourself in line right now, young lady. This has gone on entirely long enough. I'm not having any daughter of mine shacked up with two ... two ... people," he finished weakly. But Melody was all over it now and I wasn't going to get between her and the object of her wrath. "Why don't you just go back to Boston and forget about me, then," Melody shouted. "It's obvious that you don't care enough to even give us a chance. I'll go back with Lissa and Tony." "You most certainly will not. Alexandra..." he turned to his wife. "Oh stow it, Harold. Melody has a good idea. Go back to Boston and let the rest of us enjoy our weekend," she said. "Alexandra! How dare you challenge my authority?" "That's been the problem for the past 25 years, hasn't it Harold? I never challenged your authority. Well, listen here. You walked out on me, on our marriage, and on our family. It was your choice. And for your information, I'll have my own bag delivered to my own room. There's no reason I can think of that I would spend the night with my ex-husband!" Melody's mouth hung open. I don't think she'd ever heard her mom stand up to her father like that. And the way Lexi said "ex-husband" you could see that he'd driven the final nail into his own coffin. Lexi was flushed and panting. Mr. Anderson looked at all of us. Lissa and I had our arms around Melody and Lexi had moved over to stand beside us. My parents, wisely, were staying in the background to let the scene play itself out. He turned on his heel and disappeared into the lounge. We looked at Lexi and tears were running down her cheeks. Melody wrapped her arms around her mother. "Oh, mom! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to ruin everything for you." "Hush now, Melody," Lexi said quietly. "I'm sorry I never stood up to him before. I was a terrible mother. It's me that needs your forgiveness. I love you, Melly." My mom and dad came up and Dad laid a hand on Lexi's shoulder. "Would you like me to go talk with him?" Dad asked. "Maybe I can talk some sense into him." "No. Thank you, but no," Lexi said. "It's run its course. I only just realized that it's truly over." "Anything we can do," Mom said, "just let us know." "There is one small thing," Lexi said softly. "I don't actually have a room of my own here. Do you have a spare bed in yours that you'd loan me?" Mom laughed. "Of course. Let's go get your bag and let the children get on with their lives. Saul, why don't you get us a bottle of something?" "Hmmm," Dad said, considering. "Two women and a bottle of something in my room tonight? Like son like father, I guess." That earned him a swat on the shoulder and he laughed as he left to hit the nearest liquor store. We got Lexi's bag from the bell station and she went with Mom. Melody, Lissa, and I went up the elevator to our little room breathing a sigh of relief and leaning heavily into each other. ------- There was a bottle of champagne on ice in our room with three glasses and a box of dark chocolate truffles. That was my Dad's idea and he'd taken care of it. "More of Ally's admirers?" Lissa asked, surprised. I acted all innocent and just shrugged my shoulders. "Was she singing or having an orgasm?" Melody asked. "Mmmm. Truffles!" We decided to take a shower before we indulged in any kind of decadence, but the lure of champagne and chocolate—and our overfilled stomachs from pizza—kept our libidos in check while we all showered together. Not to say we didn't do a lot of fondling and kissing and the girls felt it was absolutely necessary to be freshly shaved tonight, so I shaved and then realized they meant themselves, so I shaved again ... and again ... and made especially certain that everything was perfectly smooth. We came out of the bathroom fresh, steamy, and slick with various towels wrapped around heads and waists. I opened the champagne like my dad taught me. "Son, the cork should come out of the bottle like the sigh of a contented woman." So, there was no explosion or cork flying across the room and precious drops of wine spilled on the floor. "Okay, before you get your champagne, you have to stand between the beds and face away from each other," I directed. "What's this for, Tony?" Lissa asked. "I have a surprise for you. Now here are the rules. You can't move away from where you are. After our first toast, you can't turn around and look at anything else. You can't use your hands for anything but your champagne glass. And you can't say anything—although I'll make an exception for general moans and sighs," I instructed. "You're sounding kinky," Melody said. "Fun!" Lissa volunteered. I handed them each a glass of champagne and we touched them together. "Here's to my true loves," I said. We all took a sip. I positioned them back-to-back with just enough room between for me to squeeze in. I set my glass on the bedside table. I reached around Lissa and hugged her to me, letting my hand trail lightly over her torso. "The limitation of having just one boyfriend, my loves, is deciding who gets to come first," I said. My fingers dipped down into Lissa's pussy and she groaned, leaning back into me. I could hear Melody sigh. "You, my love," I continued whispering into Lissa's ear and tickling it with the tip of my tongue, "came first last night. So it's Melody's turn tonight." I tweaked her nipples slightly and Lissa squeaked but kept from saying anything. Then I turned and embraced Melody. "My dearest Melody," I began. "You were the first to teach me about love. You helped bring me back to life and show me a light—a way to be happy." I stroked her sides and cheeks, quickly down her legs and back up the inside, gliding past her sex and looping lightly around her breasts before I let my fingers slide up the curve and lightly pull at the nipples. While Melody was moaning, I pulled the first necklace out of the drawer of the bedside table. I held it so she couldn't see what I was doing, just in case her eyes were open—which I doubted. When I pulled the chain around her neck and she felt the weight of the pendant on her throat she let out a little involuntary "Oh!" but she stopped short of saying anything else as she reached up to touch the jewelry. I caught her hand and prevented her from touching it. "I will always love you," I said as I pulled her hand down and allowed my own to return to her center, probing gently and sprinkling kisses down her neck and across her shoulders. This elicited a long drawn-out moan followed by a plaintive yip when I withdrew. I turned to face Lissa's back again and let my fingers caress her ears and down her neck and shoulders. "Already?" She asked. "Shhh," I said as I continued exploring her body. "Lissa you made love blossom, taught me how to love a lover or two, helped me find the skills to fight being out of control all the time, and made me a part of your family. I've never been so happy in my life." I reached for the second necklace and drew it up beneath her chin and fastened it. She hadn't stopped making little squeaking noises since I caressed her breast and they increased in volume as my hand neared her core. "Lissa," I said as I stroked lightly across her pussy, "I will love you forever." She pushed her head back to rub her cheek against mine and I kissed it. I stepped back just far enough to reach around Melody and begin turning the girls to face each other. "My darlings," I said, "you are my happiness and I love you." By this time they were turned far enough to face each other and their eyes went immediately to the other's throat where the triple heart nestled. It was like watching one of those games of mirror that people play when one tries to mimic exactly what the other is doing. Their right hands reached out to touch the pendant at the other's throat while their left hands reached up to touch their own, putting two hands on each pendant, with a champagne glass caught between. They leaned forward and kissed each other softly. Their eyes sparkled as both girls turned toward me. "It's beautiful!" they both exclaimed and my face was instantly covered in kisses and my lips sought out two pairs of lips that tasted of heaven. We all walked over to the big mirror on the closet door so we could look at them together. Then champagne, necklaces, and chocolate were all forgotten as I was pushed back onto the bed and buried under a squirming mass of naked girl. It seems the daisy chained hearts were an inspiration to all of us. It was a very good night. ------- I'd like to say the morning was just as great, but when we all gathered together for breakfast, we discovered that Harold Anderson had checked out of the hotel and left. That sobered everyone's mood, though Mom and Lexi oohed and ahhed over the girls' jewelry. You'd thought I'd just given them both big diamond rings as excited as everyone was. My dad looked at me and I really felt like he was proud of me. It was such a cool feeling! The girls also decided that it was unfair that I didn't have a piece of jewelry and decided that we needed to go back to the shop. I said that I really couldn't wear that particular piece because it was too feminine. I had enough trouble with people thinking I was gay. Lissa reminded me that no one who saw me with the two of them would think I was gay, but I still thought the pendant was a little too much. Miss Hayes was at the jewelry store and immediately came to me to ask if I needed to exchange the chains. She stopped as she looked at the two women with me and just clucked her tongue a bit. "Lovely," she said. "Just lovely." I wasn't sure if she was referring to the pendants or my girlfriends. But once she heard what they wanted and my objection to the triple heart pendant they wore, she nodded her head and went to her office. She returned a moment later with a large photo album of custom jewelry from a variety of different craftsmen. Of course, Lissa wanted to stop on every page, but Miss Hayes had something particular in mind. The picture she showed them was of a heavy linked chain that had an intricate pattern in the way the links were assembled. But at the center of the chain was what she referred to as a Celtic heart. Instead of three hearts, it was a single heart wrapped in a trefoil of leaves. It was all hammered silver and I agreed that it was manly. Melody and Lissa asked me if I would wear that on my wrist. God yes! Of course, it was a special order item and they decided to have it shipped to Lissa's house. We spent the afternoon at the Art Institute of Chicago where I pulled my entire extended family from exhibit to exhibit, having already been there earlier in the week with Allison. ------- Sunday morning was hard. We drove Lissa, Melody, and Lexi to the airport and I tearfully kissed my girlfriends goodbye. We agreed we'd be back at Lissa's house in just a couple of months, but the agony of waiting that long seemed unbearable. I asked Dad if I could drive first when we headed west and he agreed. Paying attention to the road was the only way I could keep my mind from sinking into self-pity as I thought about Lissa flying west and Melody flying east. It was ten long hours home. ------- Chapter 19 I stood in the doorway of "my room" and stared at it. I'd been home for almost two weeks and the dark clouds of depression were weighing on me. Everything in my room seemed slightly foreign and juvenile to me, from the little twin bed to the art posters, to my desk and model airplanes I'd made as a child. The only thing that seemed right was my easel on which stood my latest painting. I'd worked slowly on the oil painting. It wasn't dry yet, but I kept a cloth over it, held away so it didn't touch the wet paint. I wasn't ready for my parents to accidentally walk in and see it. Still, I could see clearly in my mind's eye what was on that canvas. I'd gone through my parent's music collections and ripped all their Broadway musical CDs. Then I'd started on opera. I'd never been a great fan of opera, but the aria that Allison had sung still rang in my ears and I needed to find out if there was more than that. I spent too much time trying to understand what was going on in the story if I listened to operas in English. German operas seemed harsh to me. But the French and Italian operas just took me away and dropped me in a different world. I didn't understand anything that was going on in them, and I didn't care. I didn't spend long periods of time in my zone while I was painting. There's a surprising amount you can do without losing yourself, and my parents did want a coherent son home for a visit. By this time I'd shown them photos of the mural and my paintings from the year. It's great to have a digital camera. I just load all the pictures on my computer and set up a slide show. Of course, Dad wanted me to transfer it all to his computer so they could show all their friends. I also showed them the letter from Bob Bowers. It was the first time I'd shown it to anyone. Melody, Lissa, and Lexi all knew what was in it since they'd heard Jack read it to me, but it didn't feel right to share it with anyone else, at least not until I'd shown it to Mom and Dad. Being back in Nebraska, though, had a damping effect on my attitude. I met a couple of friends for a burger and fries, and it seemed like we were in different worlds. I didn't mention my living arrangements and my girlfriends. It seemed strange that no one ever asked me if I had a girlfriend, but I guess I was a little relieved. I just didn't think anyone here would understand—assuming anyone believed it. Classmates who knew me for years still thought I wasn't really attracted to girls. The fact was that I'd been so afraid of them I couldn't even talk to a girl. All except one. My best friend was a girl. She was funny and outgoing and had tons of friends, but never a boyfriend. I was welcome to hang around whenever she was with a group, whether it was with boys or girls or both. But she didn't date any more than I did. My few attempts were bumbling at best. As for Beth, it might have been her weight that kept her from dating. I don't know. She was just my friend and I didn't really care about her looks. That bubbling personality always brightened my day. So when Mom called me to the phone Friday afternoon, I was really pleased to hear it was Beth. "Dumpling!" I exclaimed when I answered the phone. "You're back home." "Hi Pogo. I got back yesterday. I hear you're still painting." "Oh, didn't you hear I'd become a jock? I spend all day pumping iron and doing crunches." "Right. And I'm a beauty queen." We laughed, but her laugh sounded a little strained. "So when are we getting together?" I asked. Man, it was so easy just to talk to her over the phone like the past year had never happened and we were still the skinny art boy and the bubbly fat smart girl in high school. Beth had a scholarship to Wellesley, where she was studying International Relations. Smart girl—did I mention that? "Tonight. Donny Cavanaugh is having a 'welcome back to Nebraska' party for all the college kids home for the summer. I'm picking you up at 6:30 and we'll head for the farm." "Six-thirty? It's already after five. Thanks for the warning. I need to ... you know ... wash my hair and stuff," I said. This time Beth's laugh was deep and genuine. It had been a long-standing joke that if one of us asked the other if he or she had a date we'd make up some lame-ass excuse for not being able to go out. "You have your skinny little ass on the porch waiting for my big red truck at 6:30 sharp or I'll drag you out by your ear," she said. "No wimping out tonight, Pogo. We have serious partying to do." ------- Okay. I guess that's that. I didn't really have to wash my hair, but I did put on a clean pair of jeans and t-shirt. Then I spent the next hour on the phone with my girlfriends. "Wellesley? Damn! I could have met her before she came home. It's only like twenty minutes from here," Melody said. "Sounds to me like your high school crush wants to pick up where she wished things had been before graduation," Lissa laughed. "What is it about these Midwestern girls, Mel?" "I don't know, but I want to be on the phone with you both when she rolls out of Tony's bed tomorrow morning." "It's not like that, you guys," I said. I knew that. They knew that. But they were still teasing. God! I missed my sweethearts. "I know, baby," Melody said. "But still. She was your best friend in high school and you haven't been very good about keeping up with people since you left. She might have all kinds of expectations, or at least hopes." "I don't think so," I said. "But I'll be on guard." "Don't be on guard," Lissa said, "but do be aware. I have absolutely no experience with this kind of thing because I didn't go to regular school after I was 15. I was on the road all the time and Jack had me tutored. But I still remember a cute boy that I was soooo in love with in ninth grade. I just know I'd go out of control if I met him now. At least if he was still as cute as he was 11 years ago." "And you know what happened to me last weekend," Melody said. "After Dad set up that party with my high school friends, I was asked out by five different boys he knew I had a crushes on in high school. And I kissed one of them." "Hey. Kissing a high school crush is nothing to get bent out of shape over," I said. We'd talked about Melody's big adventure. The big kiss had done nothing for her and she'd let the guy know that he shouldn't call her again. We were just in a different world now that we had each other, no matter what old friends or infatuations we met up with. "The thing is," Lissa said, "this is a time that we have away from each other and we shouldn't think of it as being a time of fear and testing. If it feels right, do it." "Yeah," Melody confirmed. "But you might call and let us listen in. That could be fun!" "You two are terrible. Here. I'm taking a picture out of our yearbook and sending it to you." I found Beth's photo in the yearbook and clicked my cell phone camera, then sent the image to my girlfriends. "Now you can fantasize about my evening to your heart's content," I laughed. "Look at that smile!" Lissa said. "She has to have been the most popular girl in school." "She was everybody's friend, but never dated more than a few times as far as I know," I answered. "It just wasn't the way we were in high school." "She may have been uncomfortable with her self-image," Melody said. "I think she's sexy as hell." "Oh, you think that about all girls," I said. "True," Melody said. "Tony, just do what feels right to you and don't not do things because you feel guilty. We are not having any kind of relationship built on guilt." "That goes for me, too," Lissa said. "It's hard enough being without you two. Don't add feeling bad because one of us might do something without the others. Just please always be honest with us." "And just what kind of trouble are you getting into without us?" I asked. I already knew, of course. We'd been talking every day. "Oh, just this cute little brunette who comes around to play with the boys. Sometimes she sleeps over. Once she even took a hot-tub with me," Lissa said. "Mmmm," I said. "I think I need a minute just to think about that image." "Yeah. And maybe have a smoke afterward," Melody said. "Did you talk to her today?" Lissa asked. "Yes," both Melody and I answered. Then we all broke up laughing. "God, I can't wait to get back home!" "That goes for me, too," Melody said. "She made little kissy noises at me when we hung up today. I could almost feel those sensuous lips." Kate hadn't been far from any of our thoughts since school let out. The fact that she was hanging around and visiting Lissa frequently was a promising sign. None of us knew where this would go, but we were all a little breathless thinking about it. Kate was courting us. ------- At 6:30 p.m., a bright red pickup truck came tearing down our driveway in a cloud of dust. Beth's Dad bought her the 4x4 for her 18th birthday. "Boys love girls in trucks," he'd said as he handed her the keys. We'd all laughed because she had to have the seat customized so she could reach the pedals and still see out the windshield. Beth barely topped five feet, but she loved that truck. I stepped off the front porch and sauntered toward where she'd stopped, but I was still several feet away when her door opened and I saw her legs drop down below the door. I don't think I'd ever seen Beth's bare legs except maybe once when we all went swimming. She was strictly a blue jeans girl in high school. But these weren't the chubby little legs I remembered from that outing. Nor was the svelte, stacked babe that stepped around the truck door the "Dumpling" of my childhood. "Beth?" I said. I knew I shouldn't gawk, but... "Wow!" "So where's this hot jock I'm supposed to be dating?" she asked, posing by the door. "I'd say he's still upstairs, but you'd make me go get him," I said. "Wow, Dumpling!" I stopped myself. "I can't really call you that anymore, can I?" "Tony, you can call me the south end of a horse headed north if you want to. What I look like doesn't change who I am." "I hope not!" I said. "But what you look like might give some guys a different idea." "Really, Pogo? What kind of ideas does it give you?" she swished herself over to where I'd stopped and put her hands behind my neck. It was still a bit of a reach. "Oh! I don't mean me, Dumpling! I just mean ... well ... shit ... what do I mean?" "I think you mean you were about to get in the truck," she growled. "Yeah. Exactly." We turned and headed for the truck and Beth caught hold of my arm and squeezed it. Then she stopped and spun me toward her. She squeezed my bicep a little more and then poked me in the stomach. I saw it coming and tensed my gut, so she didn't sink in at all. She grabbed my shirttails and pulled it up to expose my stomach. Well, I have been working out for a while and Pilates does wonders. "Jesus Christ, Pogo! You didn't really go and become a jock did you?" "Well, I do play," I said. "Last time I heard, the only thing you played was racquetball." "Yeah. Imagine my surprise to find out it was a sport," I chuckled. I pulled my shirt down and she pulled it back up to poke at my stomach again. Finally she let the shirt fall back down. "You got washboard abs from playing racquetball?" "Well, not just. It was from all the training." "Training for what?" "Intercollegiate National Championships and the Ektelon National Singles," I said calmly. Well, hell. I was proud of it. This was the first real opportunity I'd had to brag about it. "When?" "I got back on Mothers' Day." "Back?" "From Chicago. Where the championships were played." "Did you win?" "No. But I played." "No way." "I've got it on video. It's on YouTube." Beth grabbed my arm and marched me right back toward the house. "I suppose there's a Tony Ames Channel on YouTube now, right?" she snarled. I stopped and gasped. That thought hadn't crossed my mind. "Geez! I hope not. Where are we going?" "You're going to show me. Right now." I took her into the family room where Dad had downloaded my match against Karl onto our set-top box and I knew he'd shown it to a few other people who had come over. The TV was set to play it. Beth sat at the edge of the sofa watching the seven-point match. "That's the national champion I'm playing," I filled her in. "His name's Karl Higgendorfer and he's a great guy." "You played him in the tournament?" "No. I did actually win a couple of matches in the tournament. Karl challenged me to a match the day before the tournament began." "The national champion challenged you to a pre-tournament match-up." She looked at me when the finished the video. "What else?" "A lot of things have changed since last year," I said. Before I could continue, though, she jumped up. "Let's go," she commanded. She was dragging me out to the truck. "That bitch Ramona is going to be at this party and you had better have eyes for no one but me. Got it? I want every boy and every girl at the party to be pissed over what they missed out on." "Don't you want to, like ... entice someone?" I asked. Shit, I thought she'd be ready to prey on all the people who'd dissed her in high school. "Oh yeah," she smiled. ------- You've got to understand a bit about country parties. It's not like going to somebody's apartment in the city and getting drunk on cheap wine or worse rum where you are confined to three rooms and a sofa. We party outside ... on a farm ... with woods, creeks, barns, sheds, bushes, and heavy implements. Donny had a volleyball net set up and by the time we got there, they were already picking up teams. Beth dragged me over and immediately declared that we were playing. Donny looked at her and his eyes got as big as saucers. He stammered. "Yeah. Sure. You can be on my team." Stoney, apparently the team captain for the opposition looked daggers at Donny. I don't think he knew who either of us were. He pointed at me and said, "Yeah. You, over here." I was headed that way when Beth grabbed my arm. "Lose the shirt, stud," she said and proceeded to peel her own top off. She was wearing a bikini top under it and every male and most of the female eyes were riveted to it. Beth had lost a lot of weight the past year, but none of it came off her breasts. There was enough saliva being dripped on the ground to make it muddy. I stripped off my shirt and tensed my abs for Beth's benefit, and that didn't go unnoticed, either. We grinned at each other and took our places. I'm not a great volleyball player. But I was in great shape. So when other guys were sagging out and running for a beer, I was still returning serves. My side lost, mostly because all the guys were so intent on Beth's boobs they missed every shot. When we headed toward our shirts, guys were mobbing Beth. I noticed the aforementioned Ramona headed toward me. Ramona was every geek's nemesis. Cheerleader, beauty queen—or what passed for one in Nebraska—and a personality that was all about how she, and everyone else, looked. While neither Beth nor I were exactly geeks, we didn't fit in for other reasons. Beth was valedictorian and I was an artist. 'Nuf said. We were always fair game for Ramona's self-glorifying barbs. The end-of-year catty remark had offended nearly everyone. "Well, of course she's valedictorian. What else would she do?" I caught Beth's eye and nodded my head toward the approaching bitch. She broke away from the guys who were complimenting her and was by my side before Ramona could reach me. Not bothering with her shirt, she grabbed my arm and spun me in the opposite direction. "Come on," she said brightly. "After that workout, I need a drink!" We marched away from the descending Ramona and, by the time we reached the drinks, we were laughing our asses off. ------- Contrary to popular opinion, hot, horny teenagers in the middle of the Bible belt don't just sneak into their bedrooms or the nearest hayloft and fuck. There are rituals to be observed, and if you drive a truck or a car without much backseat, there is a limitation to the places you can really go. But we have land. And our land has a lot of hiding places on it if you can figure out a way to get to it without drawing attention. So we have games. Like hide 'n' seek. Played with couples. You get the idea. As soon as the game was called, Beth grabbed my hand and two beers and dragged me away. The thing is that the couple that's doing the seeking, can't go make out in the bushes until they find another couple. So they really look hard and most of us know all the good places to hide, even those of us who barely ever played. Cavanaugh's had plenty of places around the farm and the rule was you had to stay within the fence-lines. I had no idea where to go, but Beth apparently had a plan. We made a stop at her truck and she opened the door. That turned on the dome light which I was sure was visible from where the seekers were counting out their time. Just in case they hadn't seen, she made a point of slamming the door shut as soon as she'd retrieved a blanket from behind the seat. Then instead of heading into the yard, she headed toward the road. "Hey, we have to stay within the fence-line," I said naïvely. "No. We have to hide within the fence-line," she corrected me. We headed out their property gate, took a right along the road and came back in the corn field next to the property, staying low since the corn was only a couple feet tall. When we'd circled all the way to the back fence-line, she hunched over and I followed her along the fence to a space beside the raspberry patch. No one ever went out there because the ground was hard and you never knew when you'd find an unexpected thorn. But armed with her heavy dark blanket, Beth headed straight for the patch, laid the blanket down and then herself. When I'd lain down beside her, she flipped the blanket up and covered us, effectively blocking light from reflecting off our skin. "Now," she said, "just lie here quietly and keep us covered." "It's getting hot in here," I said. Actually that was true on multiple levels. The day had been plenty warm, and even though it was after 11:00 p.m. it was still plenty hot out and the blanket was increasing the temperature. But Beth had planned this and it was her bikini-top clad skin pressed against mine that was making things hot, humid, and sticky. I was still a teen for another two-and-a-half months yet. I was acutely aware of the bare, sexy skin touching me, and even more aware of the lips that were suddenly pressing insistently against mine. "We really have the last laugh on all of them, Pogo," Beth whispered against me. "None of them would have anything to do with us in high school, and now they are all wondering what they missed. And here we are, finding out." "But Beth..." I started. She shut me up with another kiss and I let my lips part at the insistence of her tongue. Geez! I always liked Beth. She was my best pal. We did so much together, but... Holy shit! She'd reached down and grabbed my cock through my shorts. Damn! Shit! Fuck! No! I broke the kiss and pushed her away, grabbing for her hand and pulling it up off my sudden erection. "Tony, I saved myself for you. I want you to be the one," she whispered, pulling my hand to her breast. "No, Beth," I said, pulling away. "I can't. Please." "No! You're not really ... that was all a rumor ... please tell me you're not really gay." "I'm really not gay," I said. "Then it's okay?" she asked pleadingly. "No," I said. "Girlfriend." Beth didn't scream at me. Didn't hit me. Didn't react anything like I thought would be logical—but what do I really know about girls? She buried her head against my chest, wrapped her arms around me, and quietly sobbed against me. What could I do? I held her. I petted her hair. She was my best friend for years, sometimes the only kid at school I could call a friend. And I'd just hurt her. I wept as well. ------- We left the party about midnight. We'd never been found. We just stayed under the blanket whispering together. When we left and headed past the bonfire, people just stared at the two of us, holding hands and carrying a dark blanket to the bright red pick-up. We didn't say goodbye to anyone. Beth drove up to my house and got out of the truck to walk up with me. I hugged her at the door. When I opened it she started to come in with me. "Um ... Beth, I'm going to go to bed now. Alone." She shook her head at me. "I want to see." "See what?" "Her picture. You must have pictures of her." Oh boy. Interestinger and interestinger, said Alice. I hadn't told anyone other than my parents what my real arrangement was. But Beth was my best friend in high school. I figured I owed her this. "Okay. Come on." We walked up the old farmhouse stairs, which creaked unmercifully. Sure enough, before we got to my door my parents' bedroom door opened and Mom stepped out into the hall. "Is that you, Tony?" she asked. Well, unless Dad was out partying someplace, I'm the only one she would expect to be coming home at this hour, right? "Yeah, Mom. You remember Beth, right?" "Of course. Oh Beth, you look beautiful. Please try to be quiet," Mom said. "We just got to sleep." "I'm going to make a phone call, Mom," I said. "So I'll close my door." "Of course you will," she smiled. Mom retreated to her room and I led Beth into mine. Once the door was shut, I pulled out my cell phone, but before I could dial, Beth had gone straight to my easel and pulled the cover off the painting. "Oh my god!" she gasped. She stood studying the painting. "Oh my god," she repeated. She moved back from the painting and then moved forward again. "Oh my god." She sat on the foot of my bed. "She's crying for you. God, Tony, why is your girlfriend crying for you. She's begging you. Oh my god." "Beth. Hey Dumpling," I said as I stroked her shoulder. "That isn't my girlfriend ... exactly." "Exactly? What does that mean? Wait!" Beth hadn't stopped looking at the painting since she sat down. I'd seen her look at my paintings before and she was looking for what I'd hidden. I often put shapes in the leaves of a landscape or hid treasures among the rocks I painted and Beth had become an expert at finding the hidden images. I'd been surprised that, as far as I knew, no one had found the shadowy figure in the doorway of the Rhapsody painting during the gala. I didn't do it as much anymore, but I knew she'd spot what I'd put in the painting of Allison. "They're watching her. No. They're watching you and her. They love her. They love you both. Tony, what happened?" "It's not a tragedy," I reassured her. She could see the images of Lissa and Melody I'd painted into the shadows. They were always there when Allison and I were together. I don't know if Allison could see them, but everywhere I looked I saw my lovers. I'd painted them into the picture because they were as much a part of it as Allison was. "I'm going to call them now, so please be patient while I get them on the line." "Them? You have more than one girlfriend, Tony?" "Hey, I've changed a lot, but I'm still your Pogo," I said, "just like you're my Dumpling." I dialed Melody first and her sleepy voice answered on the third ring. "'Lo?" "Hi Darling. I know it's late, but I need to get you and Liss on the line and introduce you to someone." "It's one o'clock in the morning," Melody said. Then she seemed to spring awake. "Is she with you?" "Just be patient, Little One," I said. "I'm going to put you on hold and dial Lissa now." I did and Lissa was considerably more awake. "Hello, Lover," she said. "Kate and I are sitting on the deck watching the stars. Are you home from your party?" "Hi sweetheart," I said. "Yeah. Let me connect Melody. I want to introduce you to someone." I cut her squeal off before I connected to Melody. When I was sure I had them both I put them on speaker so Beth could hear and I sat beside her. "Okay," I started. "Lissa and Melody, I want you to meet my best friend from high school, Beth Carpenter. Beth, these are my girlfriends, Lissa and Melody." "Hi Beth!" Melody shouted. "We saw your picture. Wish we were there with you." "Um ... Hi ... I guess," Beth said. "Oh yeah, I'm Melody, out in Boston," she said. "And I'm Lissa, back in Seattle," Lissa added. "It's nice to meet you, Beth." "It's nice to meet you, too," Beth said. "Are you really Tony's girlfriends?" "Sure are," Lissa said. "Beth, we're all in love with each other," I explained. "You always were an odd one, Pogo," she answered. "Who's Pogo?" Melody asked. "It's a nickname. We grew up calling each other Pogo and Dumpling," Beth said. "You two are in the background of the picture, did you know that?" "What picture?" Lissa asked. "Well, I was saving it as a surprise," I said. "I've been working on an oil painting of Ally. And yes, the two of you are benevolently watching over her." "That's not it, Pogo," Beth broke in. "It's not benevolence. I can see the love in their eyes. How do you do it?" "Do you mean how do we love each other?" Lissa asked. "It's just so easy." "Do you know anything about art, Beth?" "Wait. Who is that?" "Oh sorry. I'm Kate." "Are you a girlfriend?" There was some giggling on the other end of the line. "Not exactly," I explained. "I'm not sure any of us have figured out what Kate is." I heard a raspberry being blown. "Kate, you know you're going to hear stuff that's ... you know ... intimate, right?" "Well, if Beth can listen, can't I?" "Of course you can, Kitten," I said. "As long as you know. Now what were you saying?" "Did you call me Kitten?" "I'm sorry, Kate." "Don't be sorry! I love it! I'm a Kitty Kate." "Um ... yeah." I heard the definite sound of a kiss over the phone and as far as I knew, Lissa and Kate were the only others who were together. "Okay, so Beth," Kate said. "Have you ever seen a triptych?" "That's one of those three panel paintings, right?" Beth asked. "That's right. Well, you have to think of Tony and Lissa and Melody like a triptych. Each panel is a complete painting in itself. But if you don't see all three panels together, you never really see the whole picture," Kate explained. "But you all know about Ally in this painting?" Beth asked. "Yes," Lissa answered. "Ally is dear to all of us. I can't wait to see the painting. Is she crying?" "Yes. She has her hand held out to him and it's like she's just opening herself, so vulnerable, so ... oh god. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." "You haven't seen what else Tony has painted this year," Melody said softly. "We've all modeled for him. I've seen your picture. You should model for him, too." "About that," I broke in. "I think I'd better send you a new picture." I had Beth stand up and snapped a picture of her. We'd never stopped to pick up our shirts at the volleyball pit. I hit send and in a minute I heard Melody exclaim, "Wow! What a fox!" Beth blushed. "I want to see pictures of you!" Beth said. I woke up my laptop and launched my "girlfriend" slide show, pointing out which one was Lissa, which Melody, the two boys, Kate, Ally, and so on. I had pictures of everyone and about half of them were nudes. The pictures of my paintings were in the mix and Beth was exclaiming over them. Finally, I heard Lissa over the phone. "Lover," Lissa said, "it's time for some girl talk. Just leave the phone with Beth and go get yourself some nice warm milk or something, okay?" I could hear the tease in her voice. But I wanted to make absolutely clear that both Kate and Beth heard what I had to say next. "Lissa, I love you. Good night darling. Melody, I love you. I'll talk to you in the morning, okay? Oh. And Kate, I think about you a lot. You know how special you are to us, right?" "Goodnight, Tony," Kate said. "I know." "Goodnight love." "Sweet dreams sweetheart." I handed the phone to Beth and left the room. ------- I was nodding off at the kitchen table when Beth came into the room. It was nearly 1:30 in the morning. I stood up to greet her in that kind of half-awake and half dreaming state. Beth handed me the phone and said, "Sorry, the battery's dead." Then she kissed me. All through school and growing up, I'd had ... maybe ... a dozen kisses ranging from experimental pecks to my first, second, and last, French kiss before leaving for college. Beth and I had never done more than smooch at each other's cheeks before tonight. But this kiss was so full of friendship and love that I couldn't help but respond. I closed my eyes and just let myself be lost in the experience. I was aware that my hand stroked up and down her back and as if it had a mind of its own, it had glided to the front to cup her huge breast. Beth broke our kiss, but held my hand against her breast for a minute. She looked up at me and met my eyes. "I've decided to save myself a little longer," she said. "But someday soon, Pogo, you're going to paint me." She pulled away from me and I watched her red pick-up drive away before I dragged myself to bed and collapsed. ------- I was staring again at the little twin bed in the room I'd grown up in—Allison's picture no longer draped. I'd been "home" for more than a month and I wasn't sure how I could bear to go into this room again. Mom and Dad had come in to see it when I told them about the unusual night I had with Beth. Dad had given me a hug. Not just a squeeze or a man-hug, but an all-out bear hug that threatened to crack my ribs. "It's so much better than seeing photographs of your work," Mom said. She walked up to it and without touching it traced the outline of the shadow figures with her finger. "You know we are always here for you, too, Tony," she said as she left the room. Saturday, she and Dad had a whispered conference in the kitchen and then Dad left for the rest of the day. When he came back in time for dinner, he announced that we were going camping and asked me to get the gear ready first thing Sunday morning. He and Mom were going into Omaha to pick up supplies. I dutifully got out the tents, sleeping bags, portable grill, equipment, and water jugs. Once the sleeping bags were opened and hung on the line in the sun to air out, I went inside and showered, returning to the cave of my room. I wanted to spend some time with Mom and Dad, sure, but I really missed Melody and Lissa. Melody had had a rough weekend, too, and we'd talked much of the night with Lissa. Most of the time one or more of us was crying. Somehow, I had to get my family back together. I heard the car pull in the drive, telling me Mom and Dad were back. "Tony!" Dad called from downstairs. "Tony! Did you get the gear all prepared?" "Yeah, Dad," I said coming downstairs. "Two tents, air mattresses, sleeping bags, grill, tarps, ropes, canteens, mess kits. Everything is there and aired out. I just need to roll the sleeping bags back up and stuff them in their bags." "How much equipment do you think you'll need for a week on the road with your two ladies?" Dad asked. I looked at him, not quite comprehending what he was asking. "Come on, son. Let me show you something." We walked out the front door and there was a cherry red Ford Escape sitting in the drive. When did Dad get that? I wondered. "This is something I'd planned for next summer to celebrate your 21st birthday, Tony. But it seems that the timetable has moved up. A family man needs a family car. This gets good mileage—in fact, better than the later models—has comfortable seating for five, and room for cargo. It gets 30 miles a gallon on the highway, so it shouldn't cost too much to operate," Dad said leading me out to the car. I could tell by the license plates that it wasn't new, but it looked to be mint condition. He handed me the keys. "Dad?" I said. I couldn't believe what I thought he was telling me. "It comes with a year's insurance paid and a full tank of gas. There's a prepaid fuel card in the glove box with a thousand dollar credit on it," Dad said. "Son, your family needs you. Your mom and I have talked to Lexi and Melody is stressed out. Lissa says even the boys want to know when you are coming home. I know you talk to them, but Melody needs you to take her home to your family. Pack up the camping gear you need. Mom's getting food ready for the cooler. We're not trying to get rid of you and we expect you to stop here on your way back west, but if you can get your butt in gear, you could be on the road at seven tomorrow morning." I was overwhelmed. I didn't know what to say or how to tell my dad how much I loved him. I just wrapped him up in a big hug and danced around the yard. Next thing I knew, Mom was in the dance, too, as I thanked them and hollered out my happiness. I knew just what I needed to do next. I pulled out my cell and called Lissa. "Hi, baby, I miss you," she said as soon as she got on the line. "Is Melody on, too?" "No, Lissa," I said. "This is just between you and me." "Tony?" "Can you get away for that week of vacation you mentioned?" "I'm pretty flexible. You know my work schedule. If I've got my laptop I just need to check in each day. Tony, what's up?" I explained what my folks had done and inside of five minutes I could hear Lissa screaming "Yes! Yes! Yes!" through the phone. When she was off the line, I thought about all the times we'd all been together, and the times that Melody had done something special for me that helped me through school and life. I knew I'd get a phone call buzzing back at me in minutes, but I tapped out a text message for Melody. "Darling, pack everything. Will be there on Wednesday to take you home." ------- When I left in my new car on Monday morning, I think I could have driven straight through to Boston without stopping. Dad made me promise not to drive more than 600 miles or 10 hours in a day, though. He said he wanted me to be with my family, not to have them gathered at my gravesite. Honestly, though, stopping in the parking lot at Wal-Mart in Elkhart, Indiana for the night when it was only 5:00 p.m. was a pain. I didn't bother trying to camp on the way out. I just cranked the passenger seat back and slept. Of course, the fact that the store was open 24-hours meant that people were driving in and out of the parking lot all night long, and three huge campers pulled up near me to spend the night as well. I was out of there at six the next morning, but the day went a lot slower. I kept having to pull off to get coffee and burgers to keep me fueled. It was no farther to Syracuse, New York than I drove on Monday, but I didn't pull in until 7:00 that night. Half the time I was driving, I had my phone connected to the blue-tooth system in the car and was talking to my loves. They kept me awake, at least. I know that technically it took more than the 10 hours of allotted drive time, but when I stopped, I knew I was within range of Boston and what would be my trickiest day. Melody didn't live in Boston proper, though we always referred to it that way, but rather in the historic town of Lexington. At 3:00 in the afternoon, I drove right past her little town and through the craziness of Boston to Logan International Airport. I was never so happy in my life to see Lissa swinging a backpack over her shoulder and rushing off the curb to climb into my car. She kissed me so hard and so long that the next car in line at the curb started blasting its horn to get me to hurry up and move. Now we had a little surprise for Melody. It doesn't seem to make any difference what time you go through Boston; it's rush hour. It took nearly an hour and about a dozen wrong turns to navigate the 25 miles to Melody's house. She was waiting for me and came running out the door as soon as I pulled into her driveway. Lissa and I threw our carefully orchestrated surprise to the wind and just both jumped out of the car to rush our girlfriend. When Melody saw it was both of us she stopped running and began jumping in place screaming. The girl gets a little emotional. ------- It was 6:00 p.m. when people started arriving. They were just there to help Melody pack, supposedly. Well, even with getting her loom broken down and packed, it only took about an hour to cart her stuff out to the car and fill it to the gills. We kept the camping gear accessible and a seat for each of us, but the rest of the car was jammed. Lexi opened the garage and I pulled in beside her Corolla so the Escape wouldn't be on the street overnight. Then everyone headed for the backyard where a neighbor had the grill working and hot dogs and burgers on it. It turned out that Melody had invited several friends, as had Lexi, to meet her boyfriend and girlfriend. Melody was leaving town with a splash. She and Lissa disappeared for a few minutes at which time a tall, thin guy with sandy hair and the darkest green eyes I'd ever seen on a man walked up to me. He held out his hand and when I took it, he squeezed just a little harder than necessary. I didn't try to compete; I just looked at him while he introduced himself. "I'm Ricky Barlowe," he said. "Congratulations on making the best catch in Lexington." I smiled at him and said thanks, but he wasn't finished with me. "Look, I don't know how this thing of yours works, but Melody is still my friend and I will hurt anyone who hurts her." He was looking right into my eyes and still gripping my hand tight enough to let me know he meant business. It was just at the soft edge of being painful. "Ricky," I said, "we all need our friends. But Melody and Lissa are more than that to me. They're my family. They are strong, independent women and don't need anyone to come to their aid. That includes guys who kissed my girlfriend a couple weeks ago." He was really taken aback and let go of my hand. He apparently didn't think Melody would tell me that they'd kissed. "Look, I didn't mean ... I didn't know at the time..." All shook up. "Hey," I said. "From what I hear, she enjoyed it. But if there's ever anything else she needs from you, she has your number." We were interrupted at that point by Melody and Lissa returning and Ricky backed away. I was pretty sure he'd been filled with a lot of crap from Mr. Anderson. But the girls had something on their mind and dragged me over to Lexi. Lexi in turn, called for everyone's attention. Then she made the formal introduction of Lissa and me. She made sure to let everyone know that Melody was girlfriend to both of us and was moving out west to be with us. Then she turned to Melody. "A lot of you have noticed the necklaces Lissa and I are wearing. Tony surprised Lissa and me in Chicago by giving us these, but we didn't have anything for him. Well, in the meantime, our present for him has arrived and you can all witness it." She took my left hand in hers and Lissa held out a length of silver chain. "I get to go first again," Lissa whispered, "so I suppose tonight..." She giggled and then spoke up so everyone could hear. "Tony, this isn't quite as intimate a setting as when you gave us our jewelry, but we want everyone we love you. You've shown me so much about life and love since we met. You've been my friend, confidante, racquetball partner, and lover. You've been friend to my children and boyfriend to me. You introduced me to the sweetest girl I've ever met, and you showed me what it means to be looked at with love. I love you darling." With that she laid the bracelet across my wrist where Melody held it in place while Lissa kissed me. "Darling Tony," Melody said when Lissa and I had broken our kiss. "All year you were a shining light that I thought was out of reach. Then one day I got up the courage to ask you out, since it was obvious that you weren't going to do it." Everybody laughed. "Our dates were unconventional. We spent hours lying nude in front of each other under the guise of modeling for our art." Now everyone was laughing so much she had to pause to go on. "You introduced me to the woman we love and you let us see ourselves through your eyes. The connection and love swept me away. I love you." She finished fastening the bracelet on my wrist and gave me a passionate kiss. But the public ceremony wasn't finished. "Melody pulled Lissa's hand over to join ours. "You both let me grow and discover love more deeply than I'd ever imagined possible. I love you Lissa." "When I was sure I could never be what you wanted," Lissa picked up, "you wouldn't let go. You pulled this sinking ship to the surface and saved me. I love you, Melody." Everyone had been told that we were definitely all three together, but there is nothing like a really hot kiss between two beautiful women to cause a collective gasp from on-lookers. And when I joined the kiss, it quickly became obvious to them that the on-lookers were no longer needed. People began to leave soon after. Everyone there stopped to wish us well and a safe trip home. When Ricky came up he shook our hands—less aggressively this time—and also wished us luck. He was a little in awe as he looked from Melody to me to Lissa, but he was practically knocked off his feet when Lissa reached up and planted a good kiss on him. "I know you were wondering," Lissa giggled. Ricky's eyes shot open and he gave me a nervous look, afraid, perhaps, that I'd be mad that he'd now kissed both my girlfriends. I intentionally misinterpreted his look. "Don't look at me like that," I said lightly. "To me AC/DC is strictly a band." Ricky's mouth was still hanging open all the way out the door. ------- Lexi made no objections to the three of us sleeping together and when we woke in the morning, we were happy and at least partially sated. It seemed like so long since we'd been together and our bodies craved the drug of each other. Our noses told us bacon was frying downstairs and we showered, dressed, and were in the kitchen in record time for three naked, horny, lovers. Lexi had made us Mickey Mouse pancakes, eggs, and bacon and we washed it all down with pretty darn good coffee—a rarity for the Boston area, I'd found. It was about ten in the morning before we finally convinced Lexi that we had to get going. My folks were expecting us for the Fourth of July barbecue and I guessed it might take longer for the return trip than it had coming out. We went to the garage and Lexi opened the garage door. Harold Anderson was standing in the middle of the driveway. He looked drawn and not nearly as pompous as he'd acted in Chicago. He was wearing a pair of chinos and a polo shirt. I hadn't seen him since the night Melody told him to go back to Boston. I knew she'd talked to him during during her time home—after all, it was Harold who had set Melody up with Ricky—but I wasn't sure where their relationship was. Leave it to Melody to just do the right thing. She marched down the drive toward her dad and flung her arms around him. Lissa and I hung back a little, but neither of us could let her get too far away. "Thank you for coming to see me off, Daddy. I do love you, you know." "Melody, baby, please don't ever think that your daddy doesn't love you. I'm sorry I've been hard to get along with and that ... everything," he finished. There were tears in his eyes. "A dad should walk his little girl down the aisle," he said, softly. He pulled her left hand to his right arm and walked Melody toward Lissa and me. He held her hand and reached for ours, which we gave him. He held our three hands together between his and looked at each of us long and hard as if it were the last time he'd ever see us. "Drive carefully," he said as way of blessing. Then he turned away and we saw him get in his car and drive off. ------- We were on the road and heading west—facing home. Melody and Lissa were giggling and by the time I hit I-90, they were leaning over the seats kissing with loud rock music on the radio. I pulled over at the tollbooth, stopped the car, and turned off the radio. "Uh-oh," Melody sang. "We're in trou-ble." "My darling lovers," I said. "There is one rule of the road that is absolute. No sex and no sex play while the car is running. As my dad told me, I want my family together, but I don't want them gathered at a gravesite." They could see that I was serious. They both reached for me and kissed my cheeks—Lissa from her position as first shotgun and Melody from the rear seat. "However," I said, smiling, "there's a campground about 130 miles west of here ... and we have a tent." I put the car in gear and we headed toward home. ------- Afterword Model Student took me by surprise. It was supposed to be a short story that I'd post while I was working on my "real" story. But something about these characters and their situation came alive and took control. I was overwhelmed by the number of people who read it and asked—or demanded—that I continue the story. Each time I posted one of the first four chapters, I thought the story was over. By the time I posted the fifth chapter, I had agreed to finish the story at 12 chapters. Before I finished the seventh, it was obvious that it would be at least 15 ... no 17 ... no 18 ... all right, 19 chapters. Plus a sequel. Or two. I would never have continued past the first chapter if it had not been for the dozens, then scores of email messages I received asking me to continue. But even with that, had these characters not become so alive to me, I couldn't have continued. They took control and wouldn't let me rest until I'd told their story. So, I'm writing the second volume in the Model Student series—Triptych. I'll start posting Triptych, on June 4, 2012. Thank you all. Readers are why writers write. Thank you for encouraging me to stay with this story. I will try not to disappoint you as I post the sequel and possibly others. If you have ideas, suggestions, nits to pick, or even rants, please let me know. Your reviews are welcome. Your input makes my work better and keeps me motivated and inspired. Thanks, aroslav Here's a little teaser about what to expect next. ------- Triptych Chapter 1 I was getting a little anxious. It was Sunday afternoon and after a weeklong, 3,000 mile trip to Boston and back, I was bringing my girlfriends home to my parents' house in Nebraska. I was pointing out sites to them as we entered Nebraska. From the time we turned west on U.S. 30, I was as excited as a three-year-old, even pointing at the horses and cows in the field. "There's where I went to high school," I said. "Man, it's changed already. Big renovation this year." "Aw, that's sweet. I didn't show you my high school back in Lexington," Melody said. "We were in a hurry to get you out of town!" Lissa said. "But we'll go back and you can show us around like tourists. Maybe at Christmas." "Oh look," I said. I'd been driving around the streets of Fremont acting like I was just cruising for the benefit of my girlfriends. "There's the YMCA. You'll love it there. It's where I learned to play racquetball. Three courts." Lissa and Melody dutifully looked out the window and I plunged ahead. "I know. Let's get a game in tomorrow morning. I bet half the town would show up to see us play." "Don't embarrass your girlfriend," Lissa scowled. Uh-oh. "I'm sorry. Really. I couldn't stop him," I whined. Yeah, Melody doesn't have a corner on the whining market. I'm pretty good at it. "Stop who. What?" Melody asked. "Tony..." "Dad," I said. "He's so excited to have you here to visit he arranged to have a court for us tomorrow morning for a kind of local exhibition." I pulled into the Y parking lot and got out of the car, motioning the girls to join me as I approached the front doors. The Y closed early on Sunday afternoon, so they were locked up. Plastered against the glass of the door, though was a big poster that Dad had printed at Kinko's. The pictures were what he'd managed to download from the Internet. "U.S. Women's Open Champion Lissa 'The Ice Queen' Grant vs. Intercollegiate National Bronze Medalist Tony 'Tornado Alley' Ames in an Independence Day Exhibition Match..." Lissa read from the poster. "Oh, Tony." "Really, I couldn't," I complained. "You are so going to get spanked," Lissa threatened. "Hey! What do I have to do to get spanked?" Melody asked. We both looked at her and broke out laughing. "Just get naked," I suggested before I thought about what I was saying. Melody pulled her t-shirt over her head and went for her bra. "Okay." "No, no, no, no!" I said, "Sweetie, this is Nebraska!" I rushed her to the car and got her inside as Lissa followed laughing at us. "What would Saul and Deborah think?" Lissa asked as she climbed in the front seat. "Oh yeah," Melody sighed. "They'd want to watch, wouldn't they?" "You, girl, might look and sound innocent, but you are flat-out born evil," I laughed as we pulled away from the Y. I was relieved to see her smirk at me and pull her t-shirt back on. Rule one: No sex play when the car is running. It was only about ten minutes before we were out of town and I'd turned on the county road where we lived. "It's so beautiful out here," Lissa said. "So peaceful." "What's that?" Melody asked, pointing out the front window toward the west. The sun was in my eyes, so I wasn't too sure what she was pointing at. "Well," I ventured, "I always get confused. I think it's Wyoming, but it might be Colorado. They were only three or four hundred miles away, and it was pretty much flat from here to there. That got me a well-deserved smack in the shoulder from two directions, but I didn't care because I was turning into our driveway. "Tony, it's beautiful!" Melody exclaimed when she saw that we were at my folks' house. "The pictures don't do it justice," Lissa added. "What can I say? They're only photographs." "You should paint it." We got out of the car and Mom and Dad were already out the door to meet us. They had us wrapped up in so many hugs and kisses that we were never sure who was welcoming whom. But now that I had my family with me, it was sure good to be home. Dad, of course, had already reached the car to try to grab suitcases or backpacks. I saw him just standing by the open door and went to join him. I pulled out Lissa's and my backpacks and Melody's small suitcase. Dad was still looking inside the car. "I should have bought a bigger car," he said. "Everything fits, Dad," I answered. "Yes, but what about your things?" Oh man! The car was packed as full as we could get it and nothing of mine was in it except the camping equipment. "I think we'll go down to U-Haul on Tuesday and see if we can get a small trailer," Dad continued. "You'll have to be careful because it won't drive the same when you're towing. Not as good of gas mileage either, but ... You are moving back to Seattle, aren't you?" "Yes. Of course, Dad. Why would you even ask?" "Well, you just got a fat envelope from Lincoln yesterday and it looks a lot like your acceptance packet did last year." So much had changed since I applied to transfer to the University of Nebraska over the winter break, I couldn't even imagine going there anymore. I had a life in Seattle. Six months ago ... just six months ... I didn't. I looked at the two women who were my life as they continued to hug and chat with Mom. "I hope you weren't planning on me moving back," I said to Dad. He joined me as we moved luggage toward the house. "I'd have you committed if you did, son." We went into the house through the kitchen and the girls oohed and aahed over the smells coming from the stove. Mom assured them that part of what they were smelling, like the four big pies that were cooling on the counter, was for the barbecue tomorrow. "Tony, take the girls' bags right on up to the guest room," Mom said. "Mom..." "Tony," she said. That look ... I swear it's stopped trains. I took the bags up to the guest room with Dad trailing behind me. "Uh ... that one's mine," I said to Dad as he set my backpack down in the guest room. "Mmmm hmmm." "But..." I looked at the queen-sized bed in the guest room and thought about the twin in my room, comprehension beginning to dawn. "Oh." I was back down in the kitchen when I heard the sound of tires on the gravel outside sliding to a stop. I looked out the door at the plume of dust that was still settling behind the red pickup. Mom was out the door before me, though, and was scolding our visitor with a wooden spoon waving in her hand. The girls followed me out the door. "Elizabeth Ann! Don't you come tearing in our drive like a hellion. There could have been children playing out there!" "Oh my god! I'm sorry! I didn't think. Did you bring your kids?" she asked looking at me. I shook my head. "But there could have been," Mom persisted. "Yes'm," Beth said contritely. Then she looked back at me, and, satisfied that she'd been properly humble with Mom, came running up the steps to me. "Pogo!" "Hi Dumpling," I said. "I want you to meet..." I never got the rest of the words out of my mouth. Beth dropped me like a hot potato and rushed to Melody and Lissa. They stood for a split second looking at each other and then fell into a hug that looked like they were long-lost friends who couldn't believe they'd found each other. "You. Are. So. Beautiful!" Well, that's the gist of what was said. I couldn't separate out which of the three girls was shouting it the loudest. I guessed that probably my presence was no longer required so I went inside with Mom. She handed me a stack of plates to set the table. "Is it okay if Beth stays, too?" I asked. "She's practically been camped out here all day waiting for you," Mom said. "If you don't set her a plate, she'll eat off of yours." To be continued June 4, 2012... ------- The End ------- Posted: 2012-02-04 Last Modified: 2012-05-31 / 06:30:47 pm Version: 2.00 ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------