Date Crasher

I was being actively stood up for my first Hinge date in my year as a single woman, when I saw my two local crushes sitting close together at the bar's corner booth. The woman, whose name I knew to be Laurel, worked at the Whole Foods across the street from my house. The groceries were expensive, but the walk was short and free, and I found myself stopping by several days a week for a few items at a time, to make sure I got to chat with Laurel. She was gorgeous, with a short auburn bob and bangs, a freckled nose and brown eyes that shone golden in certain light. She was shorter than me, with small breasts and sturdy legs, an athletic sort of femininity and an easy way of moving.  We had a friendly banter and I'd been gearing up for weeks to ask for her number.

Next to her was Charlie, a natural brunette whose hair went bleach blonde at the tips in a way that seemed to be from the Florida sun, though it was hard to tell if he got highlights. He was well groomed, for a man, and didn't seem to try hard to be masculine. I knew him from the local queer bar, where I went alone to read a couple times per month. To read, to "get back out there," and to see him. He had a floral, multi-color chest tattoo and often wore a button-up shirt fully open over a low tank while bartending. I always wished to see the bottom of it. He was slim but muscular. I could never tell if he was gay, or bi, or pan, or something that meant I had a chance. He never ogled my breasts even when I wore a low-cut dress and leaned over the bar to chat with him, but he always seemed happy to see me, and had lots of interest in whatever book I was reading. I'd fantasized about him on more occasions than I'd felt comfortable with, not knowing if it was offensive to do so.

They were sitting next to each other in the L-shaped booth, their knees knocking together, looking engrossed in a flirty conversation. I was shocked to see that they knew each other. There was a small surge of enthusiasm - Charlie didn't seem to be gay, if they were on the date that they seemed to be. Then, my stomach sank to realize that on top of being stood up, the two people in town I could visualize any sort of interest in, after a year of celibacy, building my confidence up enough to even consider dating again, seemed to be romantically occupied with each other.  

Dating was too hard. Most people were unappealing, or taken, and this unfortunate, albeit extremely attractive duo, was a coincidence that did nothing but rub salt in the wound. I studied them - Charlie was in a matching set comprised of a linen beige button up and linen pants, and looked like he could be on the cover of a Queer magazine. Laurel looked stunning in the dim light-- I could tell she'd applied mascara, blush, and a tinted burgundy chapstick that complemented her hair. She was in a matching burgundy velvet dress that hugged her chest and hips and showed a lot of her gorgeous, shapely legs.  

"Caroline?!"

The two voices reached me at exactly the moment I realized I'd been staring. The two of them had caught sight of me, and then looked to one another in surprise. Of course. Just as I'd never suspected they'd know each other, neither of them had reason to suspect that the other would know me. And how did they know me, exactly? A friendly regular at their place of business?

If I was going to be caught awkwardly staring, I was glad at least for the attractive lighting in the upscale dive bar, and thankful to be in this slinky little black dress that accentuated my curves. My long black hair spilled over my shoulders and my boobs looked admittedly huge, spilling over the top of this spaghetti strap getup. But compared to theirs, my look was uncreative, and maybe a bit try-hard.  

They waved me over. I awkwardly slid from my stool, and Laurel motioned for me to sit next to her. She had some sort of amber scent on, or maybe it came from Charlie who was sitting close to her, though he fell back a bit to make the gathering less of a conspicuously two-on-one energy. I was grateful, but also I worried I was being pitied. The obviously-stood-up, obviously-single, obviously crushing acquaintance from their places of work, coming face to face with their unavailability to me.

"How do you know each other," we all said at once.

It was quickly explained that I frequented both of their workplaces.

"Such a small town!"

Laurel exclaimed, although it wasn't.

"Seriously," said Charlie.

I became aware that neither had explained their own acquaintance, and it seemed they weren't going to.

"Well, I'll leave you guys to it, I don't mean to interrupt," I said uncomfortably

."Oh, stay a little! It's so fun to see you out and about," Laurel said, exchanging glances with Charlie, who nodded. "I've always thought we might be friends out in the real world."

Friends. There it was. My disappointment would have overwhelmed me if not for the flattery that she wanted me to stay, seemed adamant that I not go.

"Caroline's awesome," Charlie said. Although I saw him less regularly than Laurel, it was usually for longer patches of time, with more room for chit-chat. "She has a great taste in books."

I blushed as though he'd complimented my appearance, and wished my skin didn't give me away so easily. He seemed to pink a little, too, to my surprise. Could Charlie be attracted to me? Or maybe it was just that he didn't know how to navigate this, running into me while on a date that seemed to have been thick with a romantic tunnel vision before I'd shown up.

"Oh? Said Laurel, knocking a knee sloppily against mine. "Any favorites lately?" 

"Have you ever read Slanting Towards the Sea?" I launched into my current fixation.

She shook her head and put her palm in her hand to look at me. Charlie slid out of the booth and it was just her and I, and she was looking up at me through mascaraed lashes with a sort of coquettish face I hadn't seen on her in daytime. It wasn't exactly a friend face.

"It's this gorgeous literary fiction book set in Croatia, about this woman who leaves her husband for a reason I can't say without spoiling it, but then she stays best friends with him and his new wife, and the three of them have this really lovely, tender friendship. It's just this gorgeous, sensory story--" I trailed off, realizing I was doing it again. Taking a polite question and using it as an on-ramp to talk for hours about something that had captivated me, something the speaker may have only had a passing interest in.

But Laurel looked genuinely interested. "It sounds so intriguing," she said, "you're so intriguing."

It was a strange thing to say. We never really referred to each other directly at the grocery store. And when we did, there was always an air of plausible deniability, at least on my end. I could never tell if a feminine woman could be interested in me. Come to think of it, it wasn't dissimilar to the uncertainty I felt over whether a person like Charlie could be interested in me.

Speaking of Charlie, he was back, with three short glasses full of ice and brown liquid. "Whiskey gingers," he said. This was my order each time I settled at the bar in front of him. He'd remembered. That, or it's just a drink everyone likes. I couldn't give myself too much credit. But I guess I was staying, at least for one drink.

"Thanks so much," I said, "what's your venmo?"

"Nah, don't worry about it," he brushed me off. "I mean if you insist, you can get the next ones, but I'm happy to treat." Next ones. He seemed to expect me to be here a while.

I glanced at Laurel who nodded, and said "except the next ones are on me. Please don't pay for anything, we invited you over."

I was already buzzed from the two drinks I'd downed at the bar, waiting for the guy--not really my type anyway--who never showed. But spotting these two together, being ushered over and encouraged to settle in, filled me with such a rush of adrenaline and social anxiety that I was grateful for the third drink, and the promise of the fourth.

"Before we saw you, we were just swapping stories about our worst customers," Laurel said. "not you, of course," she added, hurriedly, "you're one of the best."

"Just one?" I asked, boldly, and she seemed to blush. "Who are some of the worst?"

The evening seemed to blur after that. The conversation between the three of us was fluid, jumping from one topic to another, with an obvious mutual curiosity. There were no awkward silences after that first shared drink. I could see that there was a spark between the two of them, and their knees bumped together from time to time under the table, but so did mine and Laurel's and she and Charlie engaged in no other PDA beyond that. It had been half past eight when I'd joined them, and suddenly it was a few minutes past midnight, and we found ourselves to be the only ones left in the bar, the bartenders scrubbing down tables and giving us sidelong glances.

"Oh shit," said Charlie, "they probably want us out of here." The first real silence in hours fell over the table. It seemed like such a fluke that I'd been included in this date of theirs. I was sure they wanted to go home together, but I didn't know how to excuse myself.

"Oh, duh," I said, giving myself a clumsy fake smack to the forehead and regretting it instantly. "Let me get my Uber, I should have thought of that, I didn't notice the time."

The other two exchanged glances, probably figuring out how to plan their next steps with me sitting right there.  I made to stand up, but Laurel grabbed my shoulder and cut in. "Guys this has been so fun, I'm not ready to stop hanging out. Would you want to split a Lyft back to my house? I just did a big grocery shop so I've got a bunch of snacks. We can play some records and just keep chatting? I get it if it's too late of course," she muttered the last bit self-consciously.

I knew it would be polite to say no, to tell them they should go for it, that I had to be up early tomorrow. But I was drunk, and I didn't want this night to end. I had no snacks, no records at my apartment. There, I'd chug water and get try to sleep, miserably considering Laurel and Charlie in bed with each other, and wake up jealous and hungover. Fuck it. I glanced at Charlie and he raised his eyebrows in a sort of conferring way, and we nodded at each other.

Laurel sat between us in the uber. The driver wore a blank expression but had covered the roof of his car in blue and green twinkle lights and was blasting EDM.

"Can you get epilepsy from audio??" I whispered in Laurel's ear. She laughed as though I'd said something hilarious, and gripped my leg, just above my knee, for a few seconds too long.

Okay, she was drunk and I was drunk, but maybe this 'friend' pronouncement from earlier had been more polite than it was truthful? My heart was slamming in my chest. I wanted to grab her leg the way she'd grabbed mine, but all evening I'd felt unsure of what my role was, here. I snuck a glance at Charlie and saw a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he stared ahead through the dashboard window. I brought my hand to Laurel's knee--how did she get a shave this close? This knee was smooth and immaculate! I was sure I was starting to grow stubble after my shave just that afternoon--and squeezed. And even though she'd started it, she opened her mouth in surprise. I made to pull away, but she looked to me with this unreadable, possibly ironic grin, as our driver pulled up to curb outside a cute old Florida bungalow.  

"This place is so cute" I said, when we made our way inside. Charlie nodded emphatically, though I could not read from his expression whether this was his first time here as well.  

She wasted no time: "You guys go hang out in my room," she said, before seeming to catch the implication. "I mean, that's where the record player is, and there are some throw pillows, and I'll bring us some fruit and crackers." 

Her room was a mix of sophisticated and adorable. The walls and ceiling were apricot, and the lighting came entirely from twinkle lights and a handful of large candles that seemed to have already been burning when we arrived. Right. This was a date. A date I was crashing.

Charlie arranged himself quietly on a throw pillow across from me and I wondered if he resented my presence. Looking around the room it was obvious he'd been about to get laid, and instead we were sitting here together with a sort of stiffness inspired by the abrupt change in scenery.   He gave a shy smile.

"I'm not sure how I've never asked where you work." He was right - it hadn't come up all night, or in any of the evenings we'd exchanged words at the bar. Not because the conversations hadn't felt reciprocal, but work was rarely at the center of them. There were books, movies, travel ambitions, awkward encounters, recent illnesses.

"It's the least interesting thing about me," I answered, feeling nervous that a drop in status would ensue. "I sell green energy over the phone."

"Ah. That seems like a fairly not-evil version of sales, though?"

"Yeah I think it's probably not evil. Although it's hard to get used to calling people on the phone who don't necessarily want to be called. Some serious exposure therapy I guess."

"That's true, I guess you also talk to people all day, but at least the people I talk to are there voluntarily. I imagine that would make a big difference."

It was the same tone we'd used when I'd engaged with him at the queer bar. Kind, friendly, inquiring, and not at all laced with innuendo or suggestiveness.   There'd been a sort of giggling looseness to both him and Laurel this evening, but now that it was just the two of us, I couldn't tell if any of his flirtatiousness had been aimed at me, or if it was more so something he'd been intrigued to see Laurel engage with. Was she even engaging with it? They were both impossible to read. Until this evening I'd have wagered that Charlie wasn't even interested in women. But Laurel would be anyone's exception. She was androgynous without being androgynous. Sporty and feminine and a little bit unclassifiable with that sun kissed nose and bangs that fell into her eyes, she read both childlike and very mature for her age--which was what? I had the impression we were all in our mid to late twenties.

Laurel was black with a bowl of strawberries and a plate of rice crackers. She looked between the two of us and smiled, before setting the snacks in front of us. There was an awkward silence as we helped ourselves to fingerfuls at a time. My mouth felt dry as I chewed the rice crackers, and again I started to question what I was doing here. I'd made them split his uber with me, and I was now ten minutes further from home than I'd been at the bar, just so we could sit here politely eating crackers when this place was so clearly set up for banging?

"I know these snacks aren't the most substantive," Laurel started. "I do have some cheese if anyone wants that, but I just couldn't stand the thought of bringing cheese breath into the mix." Charlie and I both stilled, and I looked down, unsure what to do with my eyes. I didn't want to misunderstand her, and so had no idea what to answer.

"Gah, I'm so sorry if I'm off base here" she replied, her voice taking on a flustered tone, "but am I the only one who thinks this," she twirled her finger in  circle that gestured at the three of us "would be an extremely hot thing?" I felt I was in a dream. In any situation where a crush had expressed interest in me, I found myself going a bit fuzzy and detached, for fear of messing it up. I'd been shy since childhood and never could believe anyone was interested in me.

Thankfully for alcohol, I was able to push through this desire to lock up, shut down. I looked at her with a fake, scandalized expression, bringing just a bit of that plausible deniability I had found myself needing to use with her at work, while opening myself to the moment as well. I felt scared to look at Charlie, this hadn't been his idea, but I glanced over. I saw him biting his lip with a sheepish smile on his face. "Hey, whatever you guys are comfortable with, I'm so down."

I didn't have time to assess the situation, to get in my head about whether he'd wanted this too, or would have preferred it be just him and Laurel, to guess at what his feelings were for her compared to what they might be for me. Thought after thought of this nature presented themselves to me in millisecond bursts, but before I could entertain a single one of them, Laurel had leaned across the floor and was whispering in my ear, "Caroline, can I kiss you?" Before I knew it she had slid on top of me on the ground and was kissing me, then running her lips over my neck. She stood me up. "Can I take this off?" She said with a gentle tug at my dress.

"Will you take yours off, first?" I asked. It was surprisingly brazen, and only I knew that it was a response partially motivated by fear of being the only naked person in the room. An intrusive image had struck me--myself naked with an audience, and the two of them suddenly losing interest while remaining clothed themselves.

Laurel grinned and stretched the already wide neck of her velvet dress over her shoulders, and slid it to the ground in a quick motion.

She was the hottest naked person I had ever seen. I beheld her petite frame: her strong, athletic thighs (I really was a sucker for thighs), a stomach that flickered with a shadowy hint of abs, and tiny, perky tits. I reached greedily for them, I couldn't help it. As I cupped them in my hand I marveled at how soft her skin was, realizing she must have prepared for today with a long, exfoliation and lotioning process that gave her the skin of a baby. She'd done this to be ready for Charlie. Why was I the one to get my hands on her first like this?

Charlie was behind her, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal more of his floral chest tattoo. His wiry, chiseled frame was striking. The androgyny of his botanical ink and long lashes, his heavy-lidded eyes, his tousled hair, his patient fingers on his buttons, the soft smile he emanated in my direction when I caught his eye. I would have been mesmerized by him if not for Laurel's nipple hardening under my thumb, if not for the catching in her breath, her thick bottom lip falling open.

I was struck by the awareness that the two of them might have done this together before, or else they'd wanted to. The chemistry between them was palpable, nothing about their dynamic all evening had been stale. And yet I really felt that, for this moment, I had Laurel's full attention. For now, Charlie was letting it happen, but didn't threesomes like this always wind up centering the man? I'd never been in one before, but that was always what I'd pictured. Was he waiting for us to warm each other up for him?  Get the foreplay out of the way?  

I felt a strange mix of arousal and insecurity wash over me simultaneously. Whatever happened with these two would be the hottest thing I'd ever been a part of, I was just lucky to be there. And yet, I felt starving for Laurel, and I wanted it to be mutual, I didn't want her taken away. I brought my eyes to her and saw her staring hungrily up at me. I took her bottom lip between my teeth and tugged at it gently, and then we were kissing again. She draped her arms around my neck as though I were her boyfriend and I felt myself get wetter as she threw her head back and tugged herself up to reach my height.  Our mouths opened against each other just slightly. She gave a tiny moan, and I felt feral. I ran my hands over her stomach and felt the rippling of her abs under the smooth skin of her belly. Jesus! Was her whole body this perfect mix of strong and soft?  

Although she was naked, I ran my fingers between her hip bones as if teasing at the top edges of a pair of jeans, tickled my finger tips at the skin just above her pubic hair, kissing her all the while. I let my fingers graze up and down and closer and closer towards her cunt. I reached lower with one hand and tickled at her inner thigh. I wanted to tease her forever like this, keep her under my spell, but she was starting to whimper into my mouth and the need to touch her pussy was overwhelming. I surprised us both with the impatience with which I slipped the middle finger of my right hand between her pussy lips, and at the same time reached around to grab her ass cheek with my left hand, squeezing hard. She gave a yelp and drenched my finger as I grazed her clit with the underside of my knuckle.  

I grabbed her ass with all the force I wanted to use on her pussy. I needed to touch her the best way I knew how. It needed to be tantalizing, she needed to ache into my finger rather than be overwhelmed by it. And so I grabbed her perfect, round, and full-to-bursting ass cheek and squeezed. I felt I was holding on for dear life, felt I was going to cum even though she hadn't touched me yet.

She seemed to register this just as I did. "God," she murmured, "let's get in bed." I couldn't believe that Laurel, hot Laurel from the Whole Foods who I'd gotten off to more times than I could count, was bringing me to her bed. She nudged me backward and I fell atop the covers. We were eye to eye now, staring at each other.

"You're so gorgeous" she said, reaching for me and bringing her hands to my back to unzip my dress. She let me wiggle out of it before reaching inside my thong, finding my clit with her finger pads and starting to stroke. I was paralyzed for a moment, until I heard her whisper, "I need you. I need you." I had to pull myself out of it, had to make sure I kept going, for her. I reached for her and soon we were locked in a trembling heap, stroking each other's clits, alternately kissing and shivering, gnawing, gasping helplessly at each other's shoulders, jaws, necks.

I was vaguely aware of Charlie in the corner, chuckling at our frantic embrace. I saw him from the corner of my eye looking toward us, his linen pants swelling at the crotch. He looked amazing and I felt my desperation increase, even though I wanted nothing to change about how Laurel was touching me, how I was touching her. Charlie padded over to the bed and lay back behind Laurel, his head propped up on his palm, watching us with a gentle smirk, pants still on but clearly tenting.

I couldn't believe it was possible to feel hornier than I had been even a moment ago, and yet I was scared he would do something to draw her away from me now that she was in this perfect state. I could feel us both on the verge of cumming and I would lose my mind if he did anything to interrupt us.

"Don't stop," I said to her, looking her dead in the eye.

She looked just as desperate as I did. "Don't stop," she whispered back.

"Mmmm," Charlie hummed approvingly, almost lovingly. I saw him running his hands over Laurel's side and then over her hip bone, but he seemed just as patient as he had before. He reached his hand over her to tuck my hair behind my ear, and then gave the back of my head a gentle tousle. My scalp felt electric where he'd touched it. He withdrew his hand with another hum, and brought it to gently stroke Laurel's rib cage.

It did not feel like he was interrupting, he seemed to be supporting, facilitating what was happening between us. I could tell he understood the vibe, and was trying to enhance rather than distract.  I felt overcome with his generosity, the abundance of the moment. I was dizzy with want for Laurel and I brought my mouth back to hers. As we moaned into each other, noses pressed to each other's cheek bones, I marveled at how we stroked in perfect unison, seeming to want, to need, the same touch. I knew when to speed up, when to slow, because it was what my own body craved. Our ankles were wrapped together and so I felt when her legs started to stiffen. She was about to cum. Laurel was about to cum for me.  

I pressed my mouth to hers and groaned as I felt my body scream open. I felt her start to jerk. I was cumming but I couldn't stop touching her, couldn't let her down. I kept my finger pressed firmly to her clit as my orgasm rippled through me and I heard her cry out, felt her body twitch and then melt against me. She was beaming, her eyes were shining and I was in a euphoric daze. I started to laugh in disbelief and she followed suit. From behind her, Charlie's voice was low and jagged. "You guys have no idea how fucking hot that was," he said.  

I started to laugh harder, and so did Laurel. I felt euphoric, but not satiated. I could see the dark hair damp around her temples and thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. I didn't want the moment to stop, I wanted to kiss her and fuck her until the end of time, I wanted her to be mine. I grinned at her and she grinned at me and soon we were kissing again, long, passionate, slow kisses. Her mouth tasted familiar now, and delicious. I wrapped my leg around her waist and pressed my pubic bone to hers, itching to bring my clit in contact with hers.

Behind her, Charlie groaned almost imperceptibly. It was the first time he had started to sound like he was losing his patience. Laurel giggled and brought her hand back to tickle at his abdomen. He had been patient, and she was inviting him, but not turning away from my kisses. She made a warm, deep, throaty sound into my mouth as I saw her hand find his cock. She was having a moment with me, and also a moment with him. I wasn't sure where I fit into that part. "You two keep kissing," he whispered, as he placed a hand on her hip and purred into her ear, "can I be inside you?"

I felt a surge of jealousy. Simultaneous thoughts presented themselves: how come he got to be inside of her and I didn't? And, what did it mean that he wanted to be inside of her, rather than me?  I was vaguely aware that I wanted him, but the want for him was fuzzier in this moment than my want for Laurel, which I felt with a sort of undeniable robustness.

"Yes," she almost purred, breaking from my kiss, then returning to look at me, "but I need you to stay right here." How could I say no.  

And then he was languidly pulling at the elastic waistband of his linen pants. They snagged on his large erection and I felt my mouth fall open. He caught my eye and smirked, but kindly. Laurel's hand was grazing my waist and I could feel her grin, her body humming with anticipation. Charlie started to stroke his cock with his right hand and he let out a sigh. He was stunning, the kind of man I'd only dreamt of, and he was about to fuck Laurel in front of me. I saw his eyelids start to flutter and he caught my eye again. "You look amazing, by the way," he said.  

My body was awash in confusion. I was still tingling with endorphins and delight from my orgasm, and the compliment sent a fresh surge of want through my body and straight to my cunt. But he was readying his cock for someone else, and I felt a sort of deflatedness, or rejection, tugging at my insides. I felt Laurel arch her back towards him and he angled his cock up towards her pussy, taking her from behind, both of them still on their sides. Laurel caressed my neck and groaned with pleasure, her eyes rolling back in her head.

I wasn't sure if I could keep my promise to stay, but then I felt Laurel's finger find my clit again, gently. She looked at me, an impish smile on her face. "Can you kiss me?" She asked. I saw Charlie's hand wrapped around her breast, grazing his finger over her nipple as he moved inside of her, saw him groan and close his eyes when she asked for my kiss.

"Please kiss her," he echoed, as though he were about to cry.

I'd been wondering if he was a fan of smaller tits like hers, breasts that fit easily in his palm, and what he thought of my larger ones. But at his request I felt my power return, albeit in a way I was unfamiliar with.  

I brought my mouth to Laurel's and was flooded with warmth for her. She continued to stroke my clit gently and grinned. This woman had the perfect touch and she was giving it to me, attentively, even with Charlie's cock inside of her. I brought my thumb to hers and ran it in circles with a moderate pressure. "Oh my god, you guys" her mouth fell open. Charlie looked over her neck and grinned at me with a sort of camaraderie.

So this is what we were doing. We were collaborators, working together to make sure Laurel had the best night of her life. I locked in, broke from her angelic touch and brought my face down to her cunt. I pressed my tongue flat but firm against her clit, which pushed up and down under my tongue with Charlie's cock pressing rhythmically against it from the inside. I grabbed the back of her thighs and pressed my mouth harder to her as she cried out. I could see the base of Charlie's cock, could see his balls slapping against her ass. I wanted to cup them and bring my fingers around his shaft in a tight ring as it came in and out of her, but I felt too shy. I only felt entitled to touch Laurel, and so I gave her the full force of my desire, moaned into her cunt as I pulled my tongue over her hard, grabbing and squeezing at her legs as she whimpered. Her body convulsed between the two of us and then I felt her clit throbbing in my mouth and knew to ease up, as I felt her collapse into the mattress.  We let her lay there for a minute, sighing in a daze. I wanted more but didn't know where to turn my want.  

"I think I need to pee, you guys, and I'm starving" she laughed finally. Charlie slid himself out of her, still hard. I realized he hadn't cum when she did, but he didn't look upset about it. In fact, his eyes were glinting as he caught mine. I realized that when she left I'd be alone with him, and wasn't sure what to do with myself, even if it were only for a few minutes. He scratched the back of her neck affectionately, and she murmured, "thank you." She pulled my hand up to bring me to pillow level. And thank YOU, she grinned, kissing me full on the mouth, "you're amazing."

I felt my pussy get wetter at her kiss, and didn't want her to go.   I wanted her again, and again, and again. I was obsessed. She climbed over me, and hobbled off towards the door to the hall. "I'll be back" she said. I could hear the grin in her voice.

I was acutely aware of Charlie next to me, but felt I couldn't look at him. My body was still pulsing with desire, and I didn't want to embarrass myself.

"Hey." He said. I brought my eyes to his and he looked serious,  a bit uncertain.  "How did you not cum during that?" I asked, and a smile broke across his face."I got off in the bathroom at the place," he said, and I laughed aloud,  caught off guard by his honesty. "You two looked so amazing laughing there together and I felt like I couldn't help it. Plus I thought if anything did happen, I knew I wanted to be able to last." 

It was hard for me to register this. "Last?" I asked, not bold enough to say more.

"Well yeah." He said. "I know I said this already but you really look so fucking great. Have you worn this to the bar before?"

I grinned, "I didn't know if you were into me being here. I didn't know if you were into women in general, actually."

"I could say the same. I always figure a girl reading alone at a queer bar doesn't want to get creeped on by some horny guy, and I genuinely just liked talking to you. I'm definitely fluid but yeah, that context is not one where I'd think to pick up women. Safe space and all" he rolled his eyes and grinned.   "But in case it's not clear" he gestured down at his erection, "I've always thought you were smokin.'"

And then I was kissing him, and his hands were snaking around my waist and reaching out to grab the flesh of my ass. He groaned as he squeezed. "I can't believe your body," he sighed. "Mine?" I still found myself surprised, after seeing how awestruck we'd both been over Laurel.

"Are you kidding me?" He asked, seeming to take on an air of impatience. Although he was slender and I wasn't as small as Laurel, he seemed to find it a breeze to grab me by the arms and press me on my back. I laughed as he cupped my breasts with both hands and massaged them in wonder. "Look at you!" He almost shouted. He squeezed my tits together and buried his face in them, groaning while I laughed with delight. He seemed hungrier than he had all evening. I felt his erection skimming my belly and wanted him inside me. Now I was the one being teased.

To rebalance things, I reached my arm down and slipped it between his legs, taking his balls in my hands to massage them, and then bringing my hand to his shaft, pressing firmly up and down and alternating between it and his balls. I loved to see this patient man, who'd kept his cool thus far, starting to lose it. He rocked back and forth above me as though itching for permission to enter me as I grabbed and squeezed at him. "Careful," he gasped, "I've wanted to fuck you a long time now I won't be able to if you keep going like that." I felt my face redden with want, and I knew he could see it. He kissed my cheek. "Can you touch yourself for me?" He said into my ear. I nodded, breathlessly, bringing my fingers down to my clit. I rubbed in circles with the pads of two fingers as he looked down at me, a pained expression on his face. I felt mesmerized, couldn't imagine ever having to look away from him.

While I touched myself, he reached one hand to his cock and slapped it gently against my belly. The weight of it and the impatience in his face brought me to a level of hornyness I hadn't known I could feel again tonight. I couldn't believe I was here, couldn't believe this elusive and gorgeous man had been wanting me, craving me, too. It was too much. I felt my stomach swirling and knew I was on the brink of an intense orgasm that had been building all night.

"Hey, I'm gonna--" I said. Before I could finish, he tugged by panties to the side and pressed himself inside of me, filling me with pressure, both of us moaning uncontrollably.  I tightened and rippled in waves around his cock, melting onto him, crying "yes!"

"Yes," he cried back," yes!" And then I was weak, shaky, and spent, but he wasn't done.  

He grabbed my knees and pressed up to my shoulders, holding them there while he began to thrust inside of me. Slowly, at first, all the while making that pained expression. He was edging himself inside my pussy. Physically, it was overwhelming. I felt sensitive and fragile. But mentally, I was elated. He looked incredible, both powerful and powerless at the same time, burying himself in me while his eyes burned into mine, pleading with me not to look away or to stop him. I brought my palms to his slender, firm torso and then let myself do what I'd been wanting to earlier. I brought my right hand to his shaft and gripped it in a tight ring, feeling the slickness of it as it came in and out of me. "Jesus Christ," he yelped, taking deep and jagged gulps of air. I knew he was about to cum. On the one hand I wanted him to, and on the other hand I never wanted him to stop fucking me. So I took my hand away.  

He looked at me, frantically, "Please," he said. I love a man who isn't afraid to beg. "Hm?" I asked. "Please, please, please, please" he said, his thrusts growing faster and more urgent. I brought one hand back to his shaft and the other back to his balls. "Oh. my. fucking. god." He growled, one word for each pump, each deeper than the last. He seemed to be ripping my insides open but I didn't care. I was cumming again, my body curling up towards him as I did, my head slamming against his chest and my grip around his balls tightening. I felt him pull out of me and was vaguely aware of him starting to tug at the head of his cock, until I felt his hot cum soaking my belly and tits, some of it making its way to my neck and jaw. He collapsed next to me and I knew he couldn't speak, but I saw a smile play at his lips and he knocked his knuckles against mine in a sort of half-hearted fist bump.

"GG," I said," and he laughed, wrapping his pinky around mine.  

"You have no idea how glad I am we ran into you," he said. There wasn't time to answer before I heard a gentle snore.

"Oh my!" Said Laurel at the door in mock surprise. "I thought you might need this" she said to me, holding up a dampened dish rag. In her other hand I saw she held a blue Gatorade bottle, and in the crook of her elbow, a bowl of tortilla chips.

"You're the best," I grinned, as she made her way over to me and began to gently wipe the stickiness from my body. She dipped her pinky in a small puddle of cum at the base of my neck, and raised an eyebrow teasingly before popping the pinky into my mouth, and then kissing me gently with tongue. Who was this girl? How had I gotten so lucky?

"Maybe," she said,   "we should also get a little bit of shut-eye..." I felt my heart drop. I was exhausted but I didn't want this experience to be over, even as I saw the dawn breaking outside the window. I didn't know what this night had meant, but I didn't want to leave these two's company, and feared that when I woke up, things would go back to an awkward form of normalcy. Maybe they'd be together, I'd have been an interesting one-off third. I'd have to stop going to the gay bar, stop going to Whole Foods. How could I face them again?  

"And then, when we wake up," she continued, "... brunch?" I grinned. I had a feeling this wasn't going to be the last of things between the three of us.