Literotic asexstories – Guilty Pleasures – Finalé by Publius68,Publius68
As always, I am not going for deep truths or gritty realism. The aim for me is a plausibly ridiculous course of events.
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Guilty Pleasures – Finale
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The Saturday move had been swift and efficient, with Wanda as eager for it to happen as Yancey was, which was to say, not entirely. Both of them had gotten used to Monica’s presence, even when it cramped their style a little. We were done by lunchtime, and Monica ordered a couple of large pizzas for the four of us without telling me in advance, because, “That’s how friends pay friends for help with moving.”
The next morning, Monica shot up in bed as the sun rolled into the window. A naked Monica, shooting up from under the covers next to me was, I was pleased to discover, better than a double-shot of espresso when it came to inducing wakefulness and blood flow. And I had slept like a rock the night before, once we had finally let each other sleep.
I had forgotten how marvelous it was to have someone I cared for like this living with me…
“Clark! This is really my home now, right?”
“It better be,” I said, pulling myself upright next to her. “You processed your change of address with the post office last night online.”
“Then I would like to have a little light dinner for my friends this evening, so they can know that we are… this now.”
“Sure,” I said, not quite tracking. “We could also just bigfoot this Friday’s festivities and move the neighborhood thing to here…”
“I said, ‘friends,’ Clark,” Monica said. “I’ve learned an enormous amount about who my friends are over this Summer. I have gotten tremendous support and encouragement from our neighbors, and I will thank them all forever. But none of them really went out of their way to spend any extra time with me, just to be friendly. The same goes for my work colleagues. Support, accommodation, generosity. But no real outreach.”
“So you want to invite Wanda and Yancey over,” I said, thinking I had it, and happily so.
“And Becca,” Monica added. “She needs to know we are living together anyway, before the next time she just drops by to get something.”
Uh huh.
Uh oh.
Monica was looking at me, with a stern smile.
“Oh you have got to be kidding me. The hellions, too?”
“I love that name,” Monica laughed. “But I prefer The Trinity. And of course, the girls too. Why wouldn’t I? Why wouldn’t we? Those three, those four, gently shepherded us together, consciously and unconsciously.”
“This is going to be a shitshow,” I grumbled. Not that I was going to say no.
*
Shockingly, it was not a shitshow. None of the few remaining secrets among all of us came explosively to light. Becca didn’t so much as grimace at me and her friends. Not even when Mary put her arm around me, and her hand on my ass, while telling me her latest tale of relationship woe. (She had checked carefully to ensure that her parents were out of sight, but she missed Becca.)
I even behaved myself when Becca was teased about missing a morning class because… she had still been at Kent’s dorm. It was hard, but I managed it. I also cornered my daughter privately and interrogated her about Rebecca. I was pleased to learn that my ex remained In Trouble, and there was little indication that she would be anything but In Trouble for a good while. But I was even more pleased that Becca didn’t seem hell bent of it being a permanent state of affairs. With me, she had gotten a taste of how much fun it could be to lovingly punish a parent, and now she had a far better opportunity to indulge herself with her mother. I was quite content to let her run with it. I’d watch, and if things started to turn rancid, I’d intervene. But unless that happened, I would contentedly revel in Rebecca stewing in the juices of her own actions.
*
The following Wednesday, after I got home from beers with Yancey, Monica and I were cuddling on the couch, streaming some new foreign series. The plot was truly fascinating, the dialog veered wildly from utterly clever to stilted beyond belief, and the action and other production values were… quaint.
Then, all of a sudden, for no discernible plot reason other than that it was probably allowed for in her contract, the female lead got naked. Spectacularly naked. We are talking Hall of Fame gratuitous nudity.
I was… charmed.
So was Monica. “Wow… she is fucking hot,” my babe breathed next to me.
Okay her reaction may had added a hardness factor or two to my already enthusiastic reaction to the full-frontal coffee-making scene we were watching. I had been leaving Monica alone for a while now, but my hands were suddenly back all over her breasts as we sat on the couch.
“Mmmm,” Monica cooed happily at my sudden assault. “Someone is all horny when I appreciate a nice set of tits…”
“Those are not just merely nice,” I observed. “And yes, I am.”
We wrestled about a bit as the all too brief flesh show ran its course.
As if to make us pay for the sudden sex explosion, the show cut to the comic relief being neither. That character was a serious weak link in the production. I snuggled Monica down against me and I sighed. “You know, you’ve been teasing me for a while now about whatever sapphic experimentation you ended up trying. I know, it is fair dues, you don’t have to tell me because it happened before there was an Us, but I still am dying to hear the tale,” I prompted hopefully.
“You know,” she said, sitting up and smiling, “I kind of think there has been an Us for longer than the last two weeks, don’t you?”
I considered that. “I hope so.” Then I leaned in with a companionable leer. “So does that mean I have a right to know who you hooked up with?”
Monica looked at me and shrugged merrily. “Sorry, Clark. Your lesbian porn fantasies remain unfulfilled.”
“What? But I thought…”
“Oh, you are fun to tease, you know,” Monica chuckled.
“Well, shit,” I grumped, flopping back on the sofa with my arms crossed.
She laughed at my antics, but sobered just a little. “You know, just going out and finding some hot lesbian willing to give a girl a walk on the wild side is not that easy,” she pouted.
“It has to be easier when you look like you do,” I assumed.
“Thank you,” she smiled. Then we both winced as the male lead took a bullet that grazed his upper arm and spun him around. We shut up for the gunfight.
When it was over, and the heroine was patching up the guy, Monica resumed talking. “You know, when we started this show, I didn’t think it was going to have any sex to speak of, and I didn’t feel like it needed it. Now after that scene in her kitchen, I’m just totally derailed by the disappointment we aren’t watching some nude nursing here.”
I was feeling the same way, actually, and nodded along.
“I do want to try it. At least once. If the opportunity presents,” Monica said again, almost tentatively.
“Nude nursing? I’ll pencil in a sick day,” I teased.
I got a poke for my trouble. “Dingus! You know what I’m talking about.”
“Please do not let me stop you,” I snorted. I was picturing her with the heroine on the TV, and not hating the imagery.
“I didn’t think you would,” she scoffed, then shoved me a little. “Would you?”
“Would I what?”
“Try it with another guy?”
“What?”
“Oh, you big baby!”
“I am not a big baby. I am a big, old man who is happily heterosexual, who has made it this far in life without interacting with another naked dude with an erection, and who very much wants to keep that streak alive and well.”
She giggled and snuggled in against me. “Okay.”
There. That settled that.
“But if I ever get a chance to be spit-roasted, I’d prefer to have you be one end or the other of the rotisserie,” she said, stroking my thigh.
“No,” I said with visceral fervor that surprised both of us.
“Really, Clark? I’m not suggesting you’d have to touch whoever at all…”
“It’s not that,” I said definitively. I’d never really visualized fucking a woman while she blew someone else before, and the concept… was surprisingly intriguing. But not if the woman was Monica. She looked at me as I did some mental inventory. “I think the problem would be that I’d have to see you doing it.”
“Clark…” she began, confused.
“I do not, at any time, want to see you with another man,” I said. “Flirting, sure. Coming on to one even, that’s… okay. It’s actually fun to watch you work your mojo. But I do not want to see you actually having sex with, or even so much as kissing another guy. Ever. I just don’t see myself bending that way.”
“We are a weird couple, aren’t we?” she asked.
“Yep. Oh, and if you do find yourself being turned on a spit, I am going to want to hear about it later in as graphic a detail as possible, please.”
She laughed. Then she paused, and looked thoughtful. “I don’t think you are going to get that story, Clark…”
“Oh?” I prompted, curious, but not wanting to push.
“Two guys? Uh… I do this… I both need and enjoy doing all… this, because it reaffirms that I am free, and always will be. And that you are free, and… whatever,” she waved off our larger, hideously complicated issues for the moment. “But two guys at once, and neither of them is you? No. My trap radar would be going off so hard, no matter how much I liked them both, no matter how awesome it might or might not feel, I’d just be feeling trapped, no matter what.”
“So, no two dudes for you?” I asked, hoping she wasn’t going to need me to find a way to step up for her, and set aside my own hangups.
She just chuckled happily. “Somehow, I think I will be able to find ways to get my jollies in as much variety as I like without messing with your head, bucko!”
“As long as we both make each other happy, right?” I asked.
She nodded.
Then we paused the show because we had stopped watching and didn’t want to miss any more potential gratuitous nude vacuuming scenes or the like…
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