She Said Yes! (2 page)

Still, what
would
it be like to have both of them all to herself? The thought warmed her up from the inside out.

As she neared the end of her cul-de-sac, she saw two cars parked side-by-side in her driveway and slowed to a stop in front of her mailbox. The pickup truck was Johnny’s, but the other car she didn’t recognize. Then she noticed the small sticker on the rear bumper that indicated it was a rental from Ben’s company—of course. The man didn’t have a car of his own; he didn’t need one. He had a fleet of new cars to choose from, and she never saw him in the same vehicle twice. This was a dark sedan with tinted windows and Vermont license plates. Yes, definitely a rental. The car Marianne had driven during the week had Maine plates, and was now parked in the deck at her office, where Ben or Johnny would pick it up Monday morning.

It figured Ben would be over visiting Johnny, despite the late hour. Marianne had told her boyfriend when they last spoke that she’d be home but she didn’t know when. He had asked if she wanted him to make dinner for her, but she said no. They didn’t live together, at least not officially, but he spent more time at her house than he did his own, and he’d admitted that, while she was away, he’d slept over even though she wasn’t home. She didn’t mind—it meant the house wasn’t empty and, though she lived in a safe neighborhood, she liked the idea of coming home to him at the end of the long week. Plus he had told her he liked the way the bed sheets still smelled like her. “It makes me feel like you’re with me even though you’re not,” he’d said.

She’d melted a little at that. He could be so sweet.

While she would have liked to have parked in her own driveway, she would settle for leaving her car on the street for the moment, but she’d make Johnny move it after Ben left. She hoped he wouldn’t hang around too long. As she climbed out of the car, she felt the weariness in her legs and knew she would sleep well later. After Johnny showed her just how much he’d missed her, of course.

Walking around the front of her car, she stopped to check the mailbox—nothing inside but a handful of ads, which she shoved back in and left for later—then retrieved her suitcase from the back seat of the car. It was a small fabric case, stuffed to bulging, and a little heavy, actually, but she didn’t want to leave it outside because her makeup was in it and if she forgot to ask Johnny to bring it in when he moved her car, then her eyeliner or lipstick might melt before she remembered to retrieve it later. Not for the first time since leaving the house earlier in the week, she thought she should invest in a good, sturdy suitcase with wheels, but she managed to manhandle it up the walkway to the front porch without too much trouble. She thought of hollering for Johnny to come help, but it was late and she didn’t want to make too much noise. She could call him on her cell? Ask him to open the door? He would…

Or I can surprise him. He obviously doesn’t know I’m here.

True. The porch light was on, but the door was shut, the lights off in the foyer, so he wasn’t in the front room waiting for her. Which meant he and Ben were most likely in the rec room downstairs, playing video games or watching TV, or hell, passed out on the sectional down there. Suddenly she wondered what the guys were up to without her around. What did they talk about by themselves? Her?

She felt a delicious chill run down her spine, but whether it was because she was being talked about or just hopeful anticipation, she didn’t know. As quietly as she could, she unlocked the front door and eased it open. The hallway beyond the door was dark; the living room, dark. As were the kitchen and the stairs leading to the bedrooms. The house was eerie, almost empty, but far away, she heard a thudding beat coming from the television in the renovated basement. So they were down there.

Pulling the suitcase in behind her, she shut the door and locked it, then turned off the porch light. At the hall closet door, she slipped off her dress shoes and breathed a sigh of relief as her bare feet splayed out flat on the plush carpet. “God, yes,” she moaned. Getting out of those tight shoes was almost a better release than sex.

On tiptoes, she moved towards the doorway under the stairs that led to the basement. From the front door she hadn’t been able to see the amber light down there, because there was a turn in the stairwell that obscured it. With one hand on the wall to guide her, she started down, moving carefully to sneak up on them. Each step amplified the sounds from the basement—the thudding beat resolved itself into cheesy music heavy on electric guitar, and the wah-wah pedal backbeat made her think instantly of 70’s porn films.

My God, no,
she thought, stopping a few steps up from the turn that would put her in full view and alert the guys to her presence,
are they watching a porno?

Then she heard breathy gasps, a rhythmic pounding that sounded like bedposts knocking against the wall, and she stifled a giggle. Seriously? Did anyone really
watch
these things anymore? She tried to conjure up an image of Johnny and Ben sitting side by side on the sofa and staring at the television with bored expressions on their faces as they watched people rutting on the screen in mock ecstasy and simply couldn’t do it.

This she had to see for herself.

Taking the last few steps, she leaned down and peered around the wall, and almost instantly pulled back. She bit back a gasp, her heart hammering wildly in the back of her throat. From the stairs, she could partially see the television, and had seen enough to know it wasn’t just
any
porno they were watching, but a
gay
porno—one guy had been on his hands and knees on a bed, blowing another man kneeling in front of him, and a third was ramming the first doggy-style from behind.

What the—?

But that hadn’t been
all
she’d seen. No…she risked another peek, just to be sure. This time she didn’t pull back quite as quickly, because it was obvious neither Johnny nor Ben were paying any attention to anything
other
than the television. Both were on the sofa, side by side as she had suspected, but from her angle on the stairs, she could see that both men had their flies open wide, their hard cocks jutting from tangled curls embedded in tight white underwear, and they were jerking themselves off while watching the movie.

At least they aren’t jerking each other off,
she thought, and a thrill ran through her at
that
image, which came unbidden to her mind. All too easily she could imagine Ben’s large hand drifting across the expanse of the cushion between them to fasten itself around her boyfriend’s thick dick and squeezing until the cherry-red head threatened to pop above his fist.

Yes, yes.
On its own, her hand drifted to her crotch and pressed against the sweet ache budding at her center.

She leaned against the wall and watched Johnny’s hand strum along his length, then glanced at Ben’s cock—his was shorter and fatter than Johnny’s, and she wondered how it would feel plugging up into her. His balls were dark and hairy, a fat sack flattened beneath the heel of his hand, and the bulbous tip of his dick dribbled with clear pre-cum. As she watched, he angled his dick towards Johnny’s and squeezed. “Sword fight,” he said.

Johnny laughed and leaned towards Ben, touching his cock to his friend’s. They mock-fought with their dicks, bumping and rubbing against each other for a few moments, then Johnny’s hand encircled both shafts and pressed them together. Marianne’s hand cupped her crotch, rubbing her clit hard through her slacks. Is
this
what they did when she wasn’t around? Maybe a threesome wasn’t
entirely
out of the question?

Ben thrust his hips into Johnny’s hand and sighed. “God, I miss doing this.”

This?
So they
had
done this before? The thought almost made Marianne swoon.

With a sad smile, Johnny released Ben’s dick and settled back on his cushion. He stroked his own cock slowly, almost absently. When he spoke, his voice was so low, Marianne had to strain to hear it over the porn groove. “You know I love you, man. But I’m with Mary now.”

Marianne,
she corrected silently. She really hated it when he called her
Mary
. It was the one thing he did that really got under her skin. It sounded lazy, as if he couldn’t be bothered to say her full name.

“Have you asked her?” Ben wanted to know.

Her ears pricked up, and her hand clamped still around her pussy, no longer rubbing as she listened.
Asked me what?

“Man, it’s still early…” Johnny hedged.

Marianne pulled back and leaned against the wall, out of sight. She could tell from the rustle of the sofa cushions that he was uncomfortable with the conversation, because he was moving as if to get away from it. He did the same thing with her whenever she wanted to talk about something he didn’t want to get into at the moment.

Ben didn’t seem willing to let it go just yet, though. “You said you’d ask.”

“I will,” Johnny assured him. “Give me some time—”

“It’s been six months.”

Since we’ve been dating,
Marianne thought. What did Ben want Johnny to ask her?

When Johnny didn’t reply, Ben asked, “You
are
sleeping together, aren’t you?”

Johnny sort of laughed. “Sh-yeah. I told you, when the time is right—”

“Man!” Ben cried. “Look, I have needs, too, dude. You wanted a girl; I got you a girl. A sexy, smart, wonderful woman who—I might add—also likes me. Don’t deny it, I know she does. But if I’d have known you were going to blue ball me, I never would have introduced you two.”

Johnny growled in frustration. “What the hell! I can’t just be like hey, honey, let’s get Ben in here, too—he wants to fuck me while I’m fucking you. Because most women don’t go for that shit, okay? You have to let me build up to it.”

“Well, have you even
tried
?” Ben asked.

Marianne’s mind reeled.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Wait, wait, wait. Ben wants in on what we have. He
wants
to join in. Is that what I’m hearing?

Her whole body thrilled at the thought. Her pulse raced, her cunt throbbed, her nipples hardened. She almost whimpered in need and desire. Yes, yes,
yes
! But why in the world was Johnny telling him no?

With a sigh, Johnny said, “I will, I promise. Just give me a little more time.”

Marianne’s hand drifted up, smoothing her blouse flat against her stomach, which fluttered under her touch.
Ask me already,
she thought, as if he could hear her.
I don’t know about most women, but me? Hell, yeah!

Her hand brushed over her breast. Pleasure trilled through her; she bit her lower lip to hold back a moan of delight. Her nipple stood out like a nugget in her palm and she squeezed until another shot of passion curled through her.
God
, yes.

“Aw, man!” Ben cried. “I’m tired of waiting. I want you.”

“I know,” Johnny conceded. “But we’ve been over this. I’m with Mary now. We can’t—”

“We
can
.” Ben sounded indignant.

Marianne risked another look around the corner to see him facing Johnny, his hand grasping his fat cock so hard, the purple tip looked as if it might burst. Seeing it made Marianne’s clit throb; she wanted to feel his dick in her mouth, between her breasts. She wanted to sit on his thick length and ride it while deep-throating Johnny.

Absently, she began to unbutton her blouse, and slipped her hand inside to caress her breast through the lace of her bra. Her other hand drifted to the elastic waist of her slacks and eased beneath the fabric to brush over the front of her satin panties. One finger slipped under the panties and parted her pussy lips to tweak her clit.

Lust sizzled through her.
Yes!

Ben’s voice easily broke through her ardor. “Tell her you want us both.”

Yes, yes, yes,
she pleaded silently.

“What if she says no?” Johnny argued.

Marianne had to act fast. If she waited for him to come around, Ben might get tired of waiting and find someone else who interested him. But he loved Johnny—that much was obvious—and he seemed to want to be with her, too. She didn’t want to lose this chance. It might not come up again.

Quickly she slipped out of her slacks. As they puddled at her feet, she tugged off her blouse and dropped it to the steps. In her underwear, she stepped around the corner and stood at the landing, hand on one jutting hip. Raising her voice so it carried over the noise from the television, she called out, “What if I say yes?”

Both men froze, still grasping their hard cocks. Their heads swiveled in unison, their mouths agape, their eyes wide. Ben’s gaze dropped from Marianne’s face to her bra, then lower, and a slow smile spread across his face. “
Would
you say yes?” he asked.

In response, Marianne unlatched the front clasp of her bra and let her breasts swing free.

Johnny’s eyes bulged. A bead of white cum bubbled up from the tip of his dick and dribbled down the side of his hand, and Marianne smirked. Placing her palms under her breasts, she lifted them up and pinched her nipples harder. “Johnny, baby,” she purred, coming closer—she swished her hips and pressed her thighs together, squeezing pleasure from her clit with each step. “Isn’t there something you want to ask me?”

“I-I-I-I,” Johnny stuttered, suddenly at a loss for words.

Ben nudged him in the shoulder. “Ask her,” he hissed.

Johnny shrugged him off. Half-tucking his dick into his pants, he started to reach for the television remote. “You know, maybe this isn’t a good time—”

“You want me,” Marianne murmured, closing the distance between them.

Johnny looked up at her and nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Glancing past him, she winked at Ben. “And you want
him
, right?” she asked.

Ben’s response was to reach into Johnny’s lap and dip into the front of his jeans to extract his still-hard dick. As his fingers encircled Johnny’s shaft, Ben’s smile widened. “Oh,
hell
yeah. I want you both.”