"Who you dating now? You went to Vegas with some guy, right?"

"Yeah. I wanted to get your advice on that actually. The guy I'm kinda seeing… he's into like, threesomes and stuff."

"And your not."

"I don't know. He's asking me to try it and I told him I would. One time." The words were out of my mouth and I cringed, wishing I could take them back.

"Good." Alex nodded. "Good for you, Jules."

"Really?" I risked a glance at him, while putting my turn signal on and preparing to turn into Burger King. He was tapping his knee with a finger and looking out the window, his face unreadable.

"Shit yeah. Why wouldn't you? You want to have plain old boring sex the rest of your life? Everything gets old after a while Jules, everything. You need to try stuff like this now while you’re young and unattached. Try everything, just to see what you like. You've got the rest of your life to be a married, boring, stay-at-home mom."

"I guess. It just seems so…wrong."

"That's because society says we should all be monogamous and have missionary sex three times a week." Alex drawled in a monotone voice. “You got to say “F you” to society Jules, and do what floats your boat.”

The car in front of us moved up, and I ordered a Whopper combo with a Coke for Alex. I added a medium strawberry shake for myself.

"Have you every had a threesome?" I asked. We were now parked in the restaurant’s parking lot. Alex had his food, and was noisily sucking on his Coke's straw.

"Yeah. A couple." He stuffed a few ketchup-laden fries into his mouth.

"Did you like it?"

"One experience was really hot - one wasn't. A lot depends on who you do it with - kind of like sex. You know - like how you can have missionary sex with two girls and one is f**king hot and I come in two minutes, and the other one I fall asleep during?"

"Well I don't know exactly what that's like, 'cause I've never f**ked a girl missionary-style, but yes, I understand your point."

"So when are you doing it?"

"I don't know. I guess in a week or so. I don't really have any reason to wait. I'm kind of using this experience to decide if I want to date the guy."

"Like a test?"

"Like a qualifier."

Alex shook his head. "Man, I don't understand women."

This coming from the guy who was eating post-nooky breakfast with a 60-year old woman last Monday. I shook my head with a smile and started the car, headed home.

---

Friday Broward returned. I rode up the elevator, noticing brand new carpet beneath my feet, nervous about seeing him. I felt like something had changed between us since he told me about his wife, but that may have been me feeling paranoid because of my actions with Brad. The wing buzzed with activity all day, everyone working on the normal workload plus the documents related to the mediation settlement. Brad called my office around 3pm, and I smiled when I saw his extension show up on my phone.

"Yes.." I said coyly.

"Got dinner plans?"

"No, but I don't plan on doing anything with you until I can make a decision about us."

"You mean you want to skip the cheap talk and go straight to bed?"

"Theoretically speaking," I said.

"Well, I need to find out what you want so I can set it up. We can either do that over the office lines, or you can bear the pleasure of my company for some brief time."

I thought for a minute. "Fine. How about breakfast at your house this Monday. Then we'll do the dirty deed on Saturday night."

"Why Monday? Why not Saturday or Sunday?"

"No. I want my weekend. Plus," I added wickedly, "I want to meet Martha."

---

The weekend passed quickly, mostly due to a MTV Real World Marathon, in which I watched the entire season of Real World Hawaii and ate about nine bags of butter popcorn and three Digornos pizzas.

Monday morning I rang Brad's doorbell at 6:30am. I was dressed in a grey knee-length pencil skirt and black sleeveless sweater. I had black pumps on, cute but not too sexy. The door was answered by an African-American woman in her 50s, my height but about 250 pounds. The woman was dressed in a faded red shirt, jeans, and white tennis shoes. She crossed her hands over her huge br**sts and made a show of looking me up and down, blocking the doorway.

I gave her my friendliest smile. "Good morning. You must be Martha."

"Uh-huh." She lifted her chin slightly then twisted slightly, calling over her shoulder while she kept her wide body blocking the doorway. "Bradley! That girl is here for breakfast!" She turned back to me, her face unmoving, holding her bodyguard pose till Brad appeared over her shoulder. He patted her and she moved, grudgingly, taking a few steps back and continuing to stare at me. Talk about the Gestapo.

I stepped inside, and offered my hand to her. "I'm Julia." She looked at my outstretched hand like it was a piece of diseased meat. Finally, with Brad staring at her, she shook my hand. "Nice to meet ya," she muttered, then turned and waddled into the kitchen. Brad smiled at me, stepping forward, and giving me a quick kiss. "Brace yourself," he whispered in my ear.

I sat at the island counter next to Brad, Martha on the other side of us, loudly banging pots and pans and doing a lot of muttering under her breath. From my seat next to Brad I could smell the soap from his shower, and see a small nick where he cut himself shaving. Martha said something that included my name and turned to look at me.

"I'm sorry, what was the question?"

"Your eggs. How do you want them?!" she demanded, giving me a strong look that indicated what she thought of my intelligence level.

"Scrambled please." I shot Brad a dismayed look and he tried to hide a grin under his hand. I poked him under the counter.

Martha served us at the counter. She had prepared eggs, bacon, grits, and biscuits. The woman may be a tad prickly, but she could cook. I dug in.

"I'm going upstairs. I'll let you two eat and be back down after you leave for work. Just scrap the plates and put them in the sink."

"Will do. Thank you Martha." Brad said, spreading grape jelly on a biscuit.

I smiled and waved goodbye at her. "The food is delicious."

She glared at me. "Thank you Miss." Ripping her apron from around her neck, she hung it on a hook by the door and left, the screen door hitting with a loud smack behind her.

Brad and I looked at each other, then burst out laughing. "I told you," Brad said, starting to choke on his bite of biscuit.

"And you pay her? Is it just me or is she like that with all of your women?"

"She's like that with any women - though she's only met a few. Most of the time I try and keep them away from her."

"I can see why!" I took a big gulp of milk and fanned myself, trying to clear her hostility from the air.

"Okay, getting down to business," Brad said, scooping up a pile of eggs. "Have you decided what you want to do on Saturday?"

I blushed, and focused on my breakfast plate. "Are we sure Martha's gone?"

Brad raised himself off his stool and leaned over till he could see through the double window above the sink. "Yeah. I can see her sitting on her balcony."

"Okay. In Vegas, what I did with the girl from the strip club…" I trailed off.

"Montana." he prompted.

"Right. Montana. That turned me on, but not because of her, though she was really hot. What, ah, turned me on was the group of people. Around us. Like, watching. So, anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I don't think I want to be with a girl. That doesn't really do it for me, at least not on its own."

"Okay. That's good to know. So you liked to be watched. Do you want a group of people watching?

“God no - not right now at least. I was thinking just you me and someone else, for starters.

Okay. So you want to be with a guy?"

I looked up from my ohsoexciting grits and bit my lower lip nervously. "Is that…okay?"

"Of course.” He spooned eggs into his mouth like this was a completely normal conversation. Which, for him, maybe it was. “Do you want to go to a club and pick a guy, or do you want me to give you a choice?"

"Well, if its at a club, we won't know anything about the person, right?"

"Right."

"Is there anybody you've done this with before? That you could..use again?"

He kept a straight face and considered my question. "I have a guy that you might like. He's good - quiet and respectful, very…ah… well endowed."

I kept a neutral look on my face and nodded. "Then let's go with him. I just want someone who knows what they're doing, since I don't. And someone who isn't, you know, sleazy or dirty."

He leaned over and kissed me gently, so gently I felt pain at the quick release, I wanted more so badly. "So we're good to go Miss Campbell,” he whispered.

I shoveled eggs into my mouth and looked at him nervously. Good to go. I guess.

CHAPTER 33

I lay, na**d and face down in the darkened room. Two candles were lit and I smelled their fragrance, mixed with the lavender scent of the expensive sheets I laid on. There were two presences in the room, and I felt them, though I cannot explain how. Someone got on the bed; it sank beneath their weight, the springs sighing softly in the dark. I stiffened, not sure what was going to happen, my eyes wide open beneath my blindfold.

A hand touched my calf and I flinched, surprised at the contact, then relaxed. The hand ran up my leg and I felt another hand, this one on my other leg. There was a sound I couldn't identify, and the hands briefly stopped, disappearing, then touched me again, this time with the lubrication and warmth of massage oil. I felt a third and fourth hand, rubbing my arms and back. I groaned softly, enjoying the wonderful feel of the four hands on my body. A man's voice sounded in the darkness.

"God, she is hot." I couldn't tell which set of hands the voice belonged to, but though it was deep, it wasn't Brad's. The stranger. One set of hands that were rubbing my lower back separated, wrapping underneath my stomach and moving up, until they cupped my br**sts and gently squeezed, kneading my breasts. I moaned again, louder this time, and rose off the bed slightly, wanting more. A hand pushed me down and the hands on my br**sts released, coming up the sides of my body. I felt my legs being pulled apart till I was wide open, exposed, and my breath hitched a little in my throat.

Fingers ran up the inside of my calves, past the back of my knees, my thighs, and then to the slit between my legs. Hands grabbed my ass and gripped the checks firmly, spreading them. I felt warm breath hit my ass and blow down, lower, and wetness pooled there. A finger followed the breath and ran from my ass to my pussy, and back again, rubbing, teasing, making my stomach curl and pleasure grow. I moaned and tried to push against the finger, wanting, needing penetration. The finger dipped inside me for a brief moment, and was then gone again. I panted, and arched my butt up in the air, offering my slit to whoever was in between my spread legs. Someone moaned, and then a face was pressed to me, a hot wet pulsing sensation *tongue* on my cl*tand dipping in me. I bucked on the bed, my fingers gripping the bed and my mouth opening in silence ecstasy. There was a voice in my ear, quiet and strong. Brad.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice husky. I nodded furiously, my hands reaching out till I felt his muscled skin. I gripped it tight. He moved, out of my reach, and I moaned. The mouth between my legs was doing incredible, twisted things to me, and I felt my body flexing and arching in the swells of pleasure. I pressed against his mouth and bit my bottom lip. I heard a zipper in the darkness, close to my head. The tongue on my cl*tslowed, then stopped. I spread my legs further, begging with my body for more.

"Flip over." Brad's voice. Authoritative. I instantly complied, desperate for more stimulation. There was a slight breeze, and I heard a door click shut. My eyes flipped open under the blindfold.

"Julia, it's been fifteen minutes. Do you want to stop?" his voice came through the darkness to me.

I had never heard a more ridiculous question in my entire life. "No," I gasped.

"Do you want to take it to the next level or keep it here?"

"Next level." I whispered, almost moaning the words.

He moved. I heard fabric rustle and floors creak and then there was a flicker of air and the stranger was back. The door clicked shut again.

On my back I waited, unsure of what to do. Hands came, two at my head and two at my feet. The two at my head ran down my arms squeezing them gently. The hands at my feet spread my legs wide and played with my soaking wet pussy, gently cupping me and sliding a finger in and out. A hand grabbed one wrist, then the other and held them above my head. With my hands out of the way, a hot mouth nibbled my neck, kissing and sucking, traveling down to my breasts, encircling a nipple and gently tugging on it. I bucked against the hand holding my arms back and raised my chest, finally wrenching a hand free and grabbing the back of a head, holding his mouth against my nipple then guiding him to the other one. The fingers in me stilled, then withdrew. I froze, the head under my hand also moving away then I felt the bed move as both men climbed up onto it.

---

Their weight was on either side of me. I reached out with my hands and felt them kneeling. One was clearly Brad, the one on my left. His thick muscular thighs gave him away. I explored with my other hand, curious about the second man. His lower thighs were thinner, average. Tentatively, shyly, I moved my hand higher on his bare thigh till I brushed - Wait. I frowned and paused. That couldn't have been… I moved my hand again. It was. His cock, but in a place I didn't expect it, much lower than it should have been. Jesus. The c**k was thinner - not the huge girth of Brad's, but ridiculously long - easily over 10 inches. Circus cock. I heard Brad chuckle and tried to fix the shocked look I must have had on my face. Bolder, I moved my hand over the cock, grabbing it tightly. It was hard, rock hard, and his hand was still wrapped around its shaft. He moved his hand away, and I stroked it firmly. My other hand moved on Brad, stroking him also, loving the feel of both of them hard in my hands at the same time, their shafts both hanging above my blindfolded face. While I jacked them off, their hands moved, one on my tits and neck, one reaching down in between my legs. After a minute or so Brad moved, leaving my side and moving to the bottom of the bed, between my legs. He raised my legs, pointing my feet to the sky and tested my wetness with his finger.