I woke up the next morning, and once again had to pee first thing. But this time my morning wood didn't attract much attention. By the time I got back, Isabel and Marie were cuddling again.
Marie murmured to Isabel, "I really want to thank you for making this weekend possible. I have felt so loved and so accepted all weekend, and I'm truly grateful for that. Also the sex has been pretty great." She giggled. Then she kissed Isabel on the lips, tenderly but earnestly. Isabel kissed her back, and for a while the two of them lay there, tongues entwined, and cradling each other's bodies.
After a while, Isabel climbed out of bed to get a shower, and to start some coffee and breakfast. Marie scooted over to cuddle with me.
"You know, this weekend has been so amazing. And we've spent so much time together. Physically, it was never like this before." She reached down and started running her fingers over my crotch. Then she went on. "I love playing with your penis. The texture is so delicate, the weight of it when it's full is so ... different ... and the smell and the taste are just intoxicating. I don't know how long you can go before it's uncomfortable to be hard, but I could play with your penis for hours: feeling it between my fingers, rubbing it on my face, holding it in my mouth. It's all good."
All the time she was talking, she was also stroking, caressing, and gently squeezing. Between the caressing and the words, I responded right away. When she saw that I was hard, Marie pulled back the covers and scooted down so that she could do the things she had just talked about: rubbing me across her face, and then holding me gently in her mouth for some minutes while her fingers continued to stroke me up and down.
I heard the shower turn off. Isabel got out, put on a bathrobe, and walked out to the kitchen. I could tell that much by listening. I don't know if she looked in on us, but the door was wide open. So she probably did, but she didn't say anything. Soon I heard clattering in the kitchen.
Marie looked up at me and asked, a little nervously, "Sometimes I read things about what guys want in bed. Is there something you want from me, before I go? Would it make you feel good to come on my face? Or on my breasts? Or what do you like?"
I told her, "Yeah, I've read those things too and I don't know what they are talking about. I don't know who these guys are that they ask, or why they like those things. Honestly, for me the absolutely best place to come—if it's OK with you—is inside your cunt." Then I added, quickly, "Or, if Isabel is listening in from the kitchen, of course that includes her cunt too. I don't want her to feel left out. But I don't understand these other, exotic tastes."
From the kitchen, Isabel called out, "I'm making coffee, so that means Marie! Also, she'll be leaving soon after breakfast, I think, so it's only fair for you to pay more attention to her right now."
So I asked Marie, "Is that OK? Is it OK with you for me to slide inside you?"
Marie looked at me as seriously as she could, and said softly, "Hosea, I would love ... to take you inside of me."
I pulled her down so that she was lying parallel with me. I rubbed my finger through her labia to verify that she was wet, and she was. Then I climbed on top of her and slid inside.
As I slid in and out, I stared into her eyes. My mind was all confused: this had been an amazing weekend, but I couldn't tell how that resolved any of the complicated issues that were baffling my understanding. But even as my mind was confused, my body made its own decision. Through my eyes and through my skin, it was telling her, I love you. I never stopped loving you. Not instead of Isabel, but in addition. My mind doesn't understand this yet, but hang in there and it will work out.
Meanwhile Marie's eyes were telling me, I love you. I never stopped loving you. And even if one day you stop loving me, I will always love you anyway. I can be patient, until you figure things out. But I can't give you up. Be with me now, and be with me again in the future.
Only after our eyes had finished talking did I start to speed up. The tension began to build up inside me, and at the same time Marie's breath got more ragged. She began clutching me harder, and rocking her hips more intensely. For a minute or two we both accelerated together like this. Then, just when I felt all the tension explode inside me, Marie cried out and her whole body spasmed. I felt myself emptying into her, and we stared into each other's eyes with a raw ferocity beyond all words.
Gradually we came back to the world. We both got control of our breathing, and we relaxed into the bed. But I had to ask, "How did that happen? I didn't rub you or caress you or anything. But it looked like you came anyway. Did you?"
Marie chuckled, and her voice was still gravelly. "Oh yeah! Oh ... yeah." She paused to breathe. "I don't know how. But I guess I was already primed, after fondling you for so long, and the extra sensation pushed me over the edge. Or maybe it was something else."
We cuddled for a few minutes more, and then Isabel called us to breakfast.
After breakfast, Marie showered. Then while I showered, she packed. She had to get on the road by mid-morning to get to her next stop by nightfall. After this remarkable weekend, we wound it up in a very conventional way. We carried her bags to her car; she hugged us and thanked us for our hospitality; and away she drove.
Once she had left, Isabel and I went back into the apartment. And right away, Isabel asked, "You've had another day to think about it. So now what's your opinion about monogamy or non-monogamy? Is there any way that after this weekend you can go back to the absolutist opinion you had before?"
I replied, "Look, it was an amazing weekend, but I'm still confused. I still don't know what I feel. It's like I was telling Marie yesterday, while we were out and about. When we are all there together, like we were this weekend, it feels very warm and loving. But when you take Dolores to bed and slam to door to lock me out in the cold, I get insanely jealous. So I don't know what to tell you. I don't know what my real opinion is."
She said, "Maybe that's your real opinion! Maybe you are OK with it when we are all together, but you don't want to be excluded. If that's how you feel, then just say so."
"Can you live with that? It means if you pick someone—like Dolores—it has to be someone who's willing to have me in the same room. How will she feel about that?"
"I don't know. We'll have to see. But at least it gives me something to work with."
We sat quietly for a minute. Then I said, "There's something else. The next time I interrupt you masturbating, don't hide it. Just keep going and let me watch."
Isabel laughed and said, "Only on condition that you follow the same rule."
I replied, "Fine. That's a deal I can live with."
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