Written by Anonymous

Threesome
27/11/2020


I woke with a raging thirst. I had forgotten how the British central heating systems work in winter - not content with taking the chill off, instead making it feel like a saharan heatwave. Add to that the fact that my head was pounding and waves of nausea were washing over me - roiling, sickly. I slowly collected my thoughts, which included trying to find out where I actually was. Plain, white room, white duvet, minimalist everything. Then it drifted through the mire that was my mind - we were at Meghan's, Clarissa's best friend from Auckland who had a beautiful, very minimalist house, in New Cross - an up and coming London suburb.

The bed rustled beside me, and Clarissa emerged slowly from the covers.

"Urrrgh." She offered.

"My thoughts exactly" I responded.

"Never again."

"Nope. Never" I said.

She looked up at me with pleading in her eyes.

"Could you get me pills and water. And coffee?" She put her head back beneath the covers. "And croissants."

Clarissa was not a great morning person, and after a bottle or two of wine, rich food and insufficient sleep, she was a very, very poor morning person. I, on the other hand - could not sleep in to save myself. No matter what had taken place the night before, I had always, always woken early, which was why my hangovers felt worse than others - I was conscious as my body was trying to heal itself.

I got out of bed and laughed at how well I matched Meghan's decor. White boxers, white tee shirt, and face as white as a ghost. I held the handrail as I made my way unsteadily down the stairs, and I must have been loud because Meghan's head appeared out of the kitchen with a concerned look on her face.

"Aha. It was either my guests or drunken baby elephants. Coffee?" Meghan asked?

I nodded as I pulled up a stool at the breakfast nook in her blindingly white kitchen.

"Meghan, this room must be migraine inducing in summer" I said.

Coffee, water and panadol arrived magically before me.

"Well, being sensible, I very seldom get myself into the state that you and your good woman are clearly in this morning."

I looked up and appraised her properly. She stood at the kitchen sink drinking her water in a way that was obviously part of her morning routine. Meghan was methodical to the extreme, but as she stood on her tip-toes to empty the glass I saw that her well-worn white tee shirt didn't quite cover her bottom.

"Well, being sensible," I countered, "those knickers of yours are hardly - ordinary, routine...run-of-the-mill."

She turned to face me, looking down at the offending garment. She lifted the tee shirt up to give us both a better view. The knickers were translucent black, which showed her red bush beneath very clearly.

"A girl can't be entirely ordered, can she?" Meghan asked rhetorically. "Now, let's go and deliver the medicines to the madwoman upstairs."

She took a fresh glass of water and some pills as I followed her with the coffee. My eyes were fixed on her bottom as it swayed right at eye level as she made her way up the stairs.

"Enjoying the view, Ben?" Asked Meghan, again, rhetorically.

We walked into the guest room to see that Clarissa was still at one with the bedclothes.

"Come on you lazy tart." Said Meghan.

"Nope. Never." From under the covers, it was very muffled.

"We have coffee." Meghan said.

"Who's we?" Clarissa was deliberately delaying the inevitable.

"Me and your boyfriend who was last seen looking at and through my knickers." Meghan replied.

There was a giggle and a shake of the bedclothes as Clarissa laughed. She poked her head out of the covers, one eye closed, one squinting.

"Firstly, you harlot - for him to have seen your knickers, you would have to have wanted them to be seen. And for him to have seen through your knickers means you had to have planned it in advance."

Meghan laughed, but didn't deny it. Clarissa spied the coffee and seemed to gather some energy, sitting up quickly, revealing that she was wearing nothing on her top half.

"Jesus, Clar, you'll put someone's eye out with those things!" exclaimed Meghan, referring to Clarissa's very erect nipples.

Clarissa looked at me over her coffee. Sipping quickly, she winced at the heat. "How are you coping with all this titillation, Lord Benjamine?"

"I'm fine." I responded calmly. "However I won't be getting up any time soon."

"But you promised croissants!!" Clarissa complained.

"No - you demanded, I never complied. It's freezing outside anyway." I regarded Clarissa's still visible breasts. "But it's like a fucking sauna in here, which means there must be another reason your nipples are standing to attention."

Meghan looked between us. "Ugh. With you clearly being hot and bothered, Clar, and with old Benjo over here hiding his excitement, I want to tell you both to get a room. But you already have." Meghan laughed. I'll leave you both to work off your hangovers, and then we can all do breakfast like normal grown ups. She got up to leave, walking towards the door, and in the morning light you could clearly see her rounded arse-cheeks.

"Hang on, now Meg - I'm now beginning to understand what it was that got my boyfriend so worked up. Are they as sheer at the front as they are the back? And Christ your arse is impressive, woman!" Clarissa exclaimed.

Meghan turned and grinned guiltily, showing that she was at least a little bit ashamed. "Honestly, I just found these and put them on - they're just my normal, everyday knick-knocks" she said piously. She lifted the tee shirt once more, showing us both her see-through knickers, and her auburn curls. She pushed the top of the knickers down with one hand, and with the other played with the hair softly, twirling it. "Maybe I should have done a little tidying of the garden before showing it off" she said quietly.

"No way, bush is most definitely best" Clarissa stated definitively. "Don't you think, Ben?"

I was sat with my mouth slightly open, staring in disbelief at the erotic sight before me, and taking in the fact that Clarissa was clearly as caught up as I was. "Yep. Bush. Good." I stuttered.

My unintended caveman impression broke the spell as both girls lost themselves in laughter.

"With that, my lovelies, I bid you adieu, and I shall see you anon, whence we shall share a divine repast, fit for Kings, Queens and myriad mistresses." Megan then curtsied, causing the knickers to pull tight against her, showing us the shape of her womanhood, and then she was gone.

"She is such a tease" Clarissa said before pushing back the sheets and opening her legs to show me her sex - full, firm, glistening with arousal. She reached down and slowly pushed her middle finger into herself. She shuddered a breath as she repeated the action. She clearly wanted to come as soon as possible, and I knew just what to do. I rolled Clarissa onto her stomach, pushing her legs apart. I had seen this play out hundreds of times in our time together, and every time it made my head spin. She had her left hand under her, cupping her breast, while her other reached down to work its magic on her clit. It left me the sopping entrance to her cunt and her delectable arse to play with. She was rocking back and forth slightly - pulsing with need. Knowing there was little time to waste, I got to her side, sliding my hand down from her hair, down her beautiful, feminine back, until my hand rested between her buttocks. She was beginning to growl into her pillow now. I pried her cheeks apart to expose her pussy and anus, both clenching in her run up to what was clearly going to be an earth shattering orgasm. In one swift move I slid two fingers into her at the same time as lowering my tongue to her rosebud, flicking it around the edges. She began to convulse immediately, and I knew what she wanted to take her pleasure to the next level. I sat up, and with my left hand I grabbed a handful of her blond, beautiful hair, whilst with my right hand, I slid the middle finger back into her cunt, and my index finger into the opening of her arse.

Is there anything sexier than a woman allowing herself to be free in her moment of orgasm? Trusting you so deeply that she will share with you her basest pleasures, allowing you to indulge them with her? As I watched my index finger piercing her most intimate place, hearing this kind, caring, loving woman become animalistic in her need, I felt closer than ever to Clarissa. She turned her head and gasped as she came. "I love your finger in my arse, it's so wrong, but oooooooooh" as she rode the second wave of her orgasm. After a few moments she disengaged turning over for what has become the traditional completion of the "Right Royal Quickie". She lay on her back, one hand slipping over her sodden folds, the other clutching a boob, opening her mouth for me. I placed my engorged cock at the entrance to her mouth. She opened and I slowly rocked my hips back and forth, her lips and swirling tongue bringing quickly to the point of my own crescendo. Her eyes were bright with lust, and as I pumped her mouth full of my seed, her busy fingers pushed her over the edge once more.

——————————

"I'm hoping you two get yourselves sorted out?" Said Meghan as we gathered ourselves after being called down for a breakfast of croissants, more coffee and some orange juice just to ensure that we went into sensory overload.

"You started it" Clarissa countered.

Meghan looked more closely at Clarissa before wrinkling her nose.

"Ew. You smell like sex - the least you could have done was showered."

"You called us down for breakfast, there was no time. And anyway, it wasn't actually sex."

Meghan raised an eyebrow as she studied Clarissa, catching her drift and not needing any further explanation. Her nose wrinkled once more.

"In that case you dirty ho, make sure you rinse your mouth out thoroughly with that coffee!"

Before she could turn away, Clarissa grabbed her hand, bringing it to her nose. "Oh, I don't think you can call yourself Little Miss Innocent, Meghan Harwood - Ben, come here and let me know what you can detect."

Meghan fought to free herself, but Clarissa stood firm. I moved forward, bent down and brought her hand to my nose. I had just caught the unmistakable scent of female musk when Meghan's struggles succeeded, wrenching herself free and running from the room.

Clarissa did as she was told and took a big mouthful of the coffee, swilling it around and then swallowing. She grimaced before shouting towards the bathroom where Meghan had secreted herself "And this is not even close to being coffee. You need to go back to New Zealand for a stretch to reacquaint yourself."

From behind the toilet door Meghan replied "Just you keep rinsing, you filthy cumbucket!"

And so it carried on throughout the day. The three of us visited Greenwich market, Clarissa buying things she hardly needed, but was clearly caught up in the holiday mode. Meg was her shopping accomplice, and I was the bearer of many bags. We stopped at a pub overlooking the Thames, ordering food to renew our energy and warm up our frigid feet and hands. I had forgotten quite how cold London could be in winter - nothing like the Eastern Seaboard of The States, but still something which can get into your bones and make you miserable. Meg took a deep drink of hot, sweet tea and fixed me with a look.

"Ben. Now that you're all loved up with our Clarissa, and that she's clearly besotted with you, is it safe to ask questions about the ex?"

I laughed at her direct approach and nodded.

"So, she was in the habit of taking it from more than one bloke at a time, behind your back."

"Yes." I responded.

"And a couple of women" Clarissa chipped in.

Meg chewed her bottom lip in thought for a moment before continuing the inquisition. "And she screwed you over at Christmas, right?"

"Yep" I replied, wondering where she was going with this.

"Basically, she humiliated you..."

"Meghan..." warned Clarissa, but Meg waved her away as if to say she was getting to the point.

"Why the fuck would you ever talk to the bitch, let alone be friends with her?"

I was thinking of how to respond, tossing up between telling her to mind her own business and just changing the subject very obviously, when Clarissa spoke for me.

"It was my doing. I felt like Sarah did me a favour, and the letter she wrote to Ben about what happened was actually very honest and quite revealing."

Meg looked anything but convinced, cocking a well-sculpted eyebrow at Clarissa.

"When we decided to come to London for Christmas, I thought it would be a good idea to at least let Sarah know that Ben was doing ok - you know - moving on with life."

"Bullshit!" cried Meg, startling those at tables nearby. "Sorry" she said contritely, surprisingly embarrassed at causing a scene. She dipped her head and hissed "Like I said, Bullshit! You just wanted to show off that you'd snared her man."

Clarissa tried to look shocked, but then gave a guilty giggle.

"Okay, I wanted to show off - a little bit. Just the eensiest bit, honestly."

Meg looked triumphant.

"And - I'm going to lay it right out there now - my love for Ben, and his for me is such that there is absolutely zero possibility of another person shaking our foundation, so - feeling all secure and loved up as I was...I really wanted to meet this woman who lived such a wild life!"

Meg was silent, but looked impressed. She raised her glass in a toast.

"To honesty" Meg said. We joined her. "And now to the gory details - just how wild is Sarah Spitroast?"

We ordered more alcohol and settled in as Clarissa began to speak. She clearly delighted in being able to retell the stories of Sarah, and I listened as if I was hearing about someone else - a friend of a friend, not a woman I had once planned a life around.

"Well, which story to choose?" Clarissa said looking heavenward in a dramatic show of having a lot of great content to choose from.

"No editing or sanitising, please." Warned Meg.

"Oooookay - but - how graphic are we talking? Because there is some pretty saucy stuff."

"I don't want you to talk about "down there" as if it's a cupboard under the stairs - give me the tits, arses, cocks and cunts please - we're all grown ups."

Clarissa laughed again and I just sat drinking my wine, waiting for the story to begin.

"I need to tell you how it all began. Before we came to England, I sent her a Facebook message introducing myself, and telling her I thought her letter was very brave and very honest. She responded warmly and said she'd like to meet up, just the two of us at first. Of course I checked with Ben that he was ok with it, which he was." She looked at me as if to ascertain that I hadn't been lying about it. I nodded.

"So, when we got to London, after settling in, I messaged her and she suggested a meet up in a pub near to her. And I was sooooo fucking nervous, and evidently so was she. I don't know what I expected, but when Sarah walked in, I struggled to see the conservative, pretty, home counties-looking woman before me as the deviant relationship wrecker I knew her to be."

"No hint of sexuality at all? Meg asked, sipping deeply at her wine.

"Nope. Nothing - unremarkable in every way. Not unattractive by any means, but just not - sexy, I suppose. It was awkward at first, we sat across from each other exchanging pleasantries, and then she just started talking, with no real emotion. She told me that she was now comfortable in her skin, that she never, ever wanted to hurt Ben, but that she understood how much hurt she had caused. She wasn't asking my forgiveness or trying to win me over, she was just - telling it like it was."

"And then she told you about her sexual proclivities?" Meg asked, slurring a little on her words.

"No, but I matched her directness and asked her to tell me when she had begun cheating on Ben. It's was really odd, the minute the subject of sex was mentioned, she went through a kind of change - her eyes came alive, she got colour in her cheeks, her eyes got all big and round - she became a vibrant woman who was clearly up for it. It was as if she'd forgotten that she was talking about the moment she had screwed around on Ben. Anyway, she told me the first cheat happened just after they had moved in together, when one of Ben's old friends had come to stay. Ben had gone to bed, Sarah had been in the bathroom brushing her teeth, and this friend of Ben's walked up behind her and ground himself into her."

"Clarissa, don't Mills & Boon me, please" warned Meg.

"Ok, ground his cock into her arse." Meg nodded, clearly satisfied. "Apparently wine had been consumed, and he'd decided Sarah was fair game. Anyway, she looked at him in the mirror as she brushed her teeth, pulled down her PJ bottoms, spread her legs apart and guided him - er - his cock, that is - into her...cunt." She said the last word in a small voice.

"God. That's quite hot." Meg said, flushed from the wine and the story. Then she remembered the context and quickly put a hand on my leg in sympathy. "Sorry that it happened to you and all that, Ben - but you have to admit - it's quite steamy." I smiled to let her know that all was well when Clarissa cut in.

"Now who's getting all Mills & Boony? Steamy! Anyway, that night she told me she fucked the man in question on the couch, that they'd got thoroughly stoned and that she had lost her anal cherry."

"She told you all this on your first meeting - it's hard to believe!" Gasped Meg.

"Remember, she wasn't boasting, she was just painting a picture of the real her. I told her it just sounded so odd coming from such a seemingly demure woman. At that point, she smiled properly for the first time. She then proceeded to take me on a guided tour of tattoos and piercings which tell their own story."

"All of them?" Asked Meg, almost pleadingly.

"No, I took her word for the clit piercing, but she readily showed me tattoos on her shoulder blade, on her upper thigh, and she actually showed me her nipple ring. Thinking about it now, it seems odd, but in that moment, it seemed perfectly normal. It was a pretty empty pub, thankfully, with plenty of space to be discreet."

Meg excused herself to go to the ladies room and order another round. Clarissa looked over at me.

"You ok?"

"Perfect" I answered.

"Aroused?"

"Fully." I answered. How's the humidity in your knicker neighbourhood?

"100% humidity, believe me. I'm squelching. Now - earlier, when you were eyeing up Meg, actually - when we were eyeing up Meg, did you want to take it further? Would you have liked it if you got to fuck her?" She asked cautiously.

"Honestly? No. Fucking is for you. That special thing - the connection of man and woman, I want that to always be you."

This was clearly the right answer because she reached over and kissed me softly on the lips.

"Ok, so not fucking - what about if she wanted to suck you - what about going down on her -"

"Yes." I cut in. "Absolutely. And I would love to see you two fuck. Did I imagine the sexual tension in the air between you two?"

"No - there's a tension there, for sure. But it's nothing that has resulted in anything. No kisses, no girly pillow fights in our undies, no mutual masturbation - nothing like that. But certainly there is an awareness of each other." Clarissa explained.

"Who's aware of each other?" Meg asked, returning with drinks and peanuts.

"Nothing." Said Clarissa quickly.

"Oooooooh - someone's hiding something!" Meg said in a sing-song voice.

"I just told Clarissa that I thought there was a sexual tension this morning - between the two of you." I ventured. "And you overheard Clarissa when you came back."

Meg seemed to think it over, before leaping up and standing behind Clarissa's chair. She then reached down and cupped her full boobs in both hands.

"How can you not be aware of these?" Meg demanded, and Clarissa slapped her hands away, and the laughter was as easy as it was genuine. When Meg sat down, she grew a little serious.

"I do think you're hot Clarissa. Not sure if I'd do anything about it - I haven't ever done anything with a girl before. But - I love you to bits, and if I did decided to get my pink wings, it would be with you." Amid more laughter, Clarissa got up and hugged her friend, and kissed her cheek lovingly. "Love you too, you big dork."

The afternoon became the evening, and we heard the stories of Sarah with her first lesbian experience, her first swingers party, the craziest places she'd fucked, and I shook my head in something approaching admiration. We talked more over incredible curries and then took a black cab back to Meg's - all of us stuffed, slightly drunk, and exhausted. Clarissa disappeared to the bedroom to do her her usual, which was to get out of restrictive clothing as soon as possible, while I lay back on the sofa, pleasantly sleepy. Meg took the chair opposite me, taking the time to browse her social media on her phone. The silence was nice and companionable.

I felt Clarissa snuggle into me and I opened my eyes for long enough to see her, dressed in just a long white t shirt, get comfortable and tuck her legs under her. Before long, her eyes drifted closed and she was snoring softly. I realised at that point that my bladder was in dire need of release, so I carefully extricated myself from my position, causing Clarissa to slip and lie down on the couch.

As I prepared to pee, I was surprised that I was already half hard - not surprising after an entire day of off and on arousal. As I came back into the lounge, I took my shoes off and luxuriated in the feeling of the expensive carpet beneath my feet. In my absence, Meg had turned towards the back of the sofa, her back to where I stood next to Meg, who I assumed to be still engrossed in her phone. The sound of the shutter release made me look up, and I saw that Meg hadn't been reading, but preparing the camera for some clandestine photography.

"Your girlfriend has a great bum, Ben." Stated Meg. She then got up and crouched down by Clarissa's behind, which was partially covered by the t shirt, but revealing sensible grey knickers.

"And she totally undersells it wearing these fucking things!" She said derisively, reaching up and pulling the elastic out, letting it go with a snap. I expected Clarissa to react, but there was no movement whatsoever. Meg saw this as a challenge.

"I forgot how much of a deep sleeper she is!" Meg said, before really pulling back the elastic and peering over the top at Clarissa's arse. "SNAP", the noise was loud in the still of the night, but still Clarissa continued with her deep, easy breathing.

"Fuck. Off" said Clarissa, incredulous. "How can you not feel that?" Then she got a naughty grin.

"Let's do a photo shoot!" She suggestedd excitedly. "You be the photographer first."

I took her phone and got it ready to shoot. Meg removed her shoes, then her jeans, leaving her in just the sheer black knickers I had seen this morning. Next, off came her sweatshirt, leaving her in just a slip covering her modest boobs, and I noticed nipples were making themselves known.

"I'm going to get my pornstar on, so make sure you get everything."

She then went through a range of poses that she obviously thought were sexy. Staring at the camera, pouting - trying to look naughty. She did the little girl lost expression, complete with finger tip in the corner of her mouth. She got close to Clarissa's arse and pushed her boob up against it, again looking back at the camera, then going as far to lift her slip up and push her nipple against the slumbering Clarrissa's panty covered rear. She was sexy, no doubt, but there's he porn parody was way beneath a woman of her class. The scene changed the moment she pulled the elastic of Clarissa's knickers down and made a show of placing her lips against the skin there. This was the point when Meg forgot about me and focused on what she was doing. She very hesitantly replaced her lips with the tip of her tongue. As Clarissa slept peacefully, one of her oldest friends was licking the skin just above the crack in her arse.

"That is truly incredible." I croaked.

Without looking back at me, Meg pulled at the knickers from the top, exposing Clarissa's beautiful arse. She had to wiggle and tug them slightly, but she could only get them as far as the top of Clarissa's thighs, anything further would surely have woken her. She then took both cheeks in her hand and massaged them, feeling their weight, pulling them, lifting them, and then separating them. When she did this, there was the unmistakeable sound of the lips of a very wet cunt opening. Over and over she did it, holding her open, as I took shot after shot of my girlfriend's open vagina.

"Fuck she's wet, Ben. She is so turned on - in her sleep." I just let her explore, knowing all too well that Clarissa could be ready to fuck even in the deepest of sleeps. Many a time I had played with her until she was dripping, then fucked her from behind, having her wake just as she approached her orgasm.

Meg was getting gradually bolder, and I switched to video mode just as she reached a finger into the slick channel between Clarissa's legs. She was rewarded with a string of wetness that Meg stared at, looked at it glistening on her fingers before wiping it on Clarissa's knickers. She realised she hadn't removed all of it, and was about to wipe it off when she stopped, and very tentatively, put her finger to the tip of her tongue, and then dipped the finger very quickly in her mouth.

"She tastes like me." Meg observed. She turned and looked into the camera. "Is this not the hottest thing you have ever, ever seen? Is your blood trying break out of your skin?" There was a desperation to her. I slowly moved the camera down to focus on Meg's underwear. As expected, they were soaking.

"My God, Ben. I'm now shaking with need, but I'm not going to stop, this game is way too much fun." She went back to work on the beautiful cheeks of my slumbering girlfriend, revelling in her wetness, but then she held them open more, and Clarissa's most intimate opening was on show. Meg had a sharp intake of breath, and then, incredibly slowly and gently, touched her finger to the rubbery ring of Clarissa's arse. It clenched reflexively.

She withdrew the finger, and then took her middle finger into her mouth, coating it in her saliva, before going back to Meg's arsehole and rimming her. I saw Clarissa's body responding, and I had the thought that maybe this latest invasion had woken her. Meg then went for broke, pushing her finger into Clarissa's arse, just the finger tip. The wickedness of her actions seemed to finally relieve Meg of her ability to take her time, because she moaned from deep in her throat, a primal, lustful moan that spoke of desperate need. Before I knew it, Meg was on her knees pushing her face between Clarissa's cheeks, licking between cunt and arsehole, and then I noticed her other hand at work between her own legs. Within the space of five seconds, Meg's body went rigid and then shook convulsively as she came in what appeared to be violent waves.

As she came down off her peak, she looked at me and motioned for the phone. "Quick, I'll film - you fuck. Please - you fuck."

I wasted no time in getting my cock out and lining it up with Clarissa's cunt. I buried myself in her. She was beyond wet, and I was able to plow heavily in, losing myself in the sensation.

"Cum in her, Ben, in her cunt." Clarissa hissed, somehow managing to film and finger herself. And cum I did. My back arched, every muscle in body was taught as I unloaded myself into this beautiful woman. "Fuuuuuuuuck."

I withdrew and stayed on my knees in a daze, but not for long, as Meg descended upon me, sucking me into her mouth, moaning with pleasure. She was feasting on the taste of Clarissa, mingled with my cum. Finally, as I softened in her mouth - she was sated.

"I knew something good was building, Ben - but this was just - mind blowing." said Meg.

"One of you had better make me cum right now" said Clarissa, startling us both, as she rolled towards us, tugging at her nipples with one hand, the other now buried between her legs.

I wasted no time, I ducked my head between her legs and lapped at the wettest, most delectable cunt imaginable, and it wasn't long before she came, bucking against my tongue, and as I looked up, I saw Meg feeding her nipple into Clarissa's open, wanton mouth.

—————————————-

I woke in the morning, fully rested and my mind immediately went to the previous evening. I found it hard to believe that it had happened, but what was so incredible is that it all seemed just so easy and natural. We had turned one another on throughout the day that by the time we got home, something had to give. And it did.

I opened my eyes and either side of me was female heads slumbering soundly. I decided that call of nature was to be answered very carefully, and rather than bother the girls, I wriggled my way down the bed and quickly made water in Meg's ensuite bathroom. Her room and bathroom were stunning, the kind interior designers should model entire ranges after. How on earth she managed to balance stark white with warmth and comfort was beyond me.

I took my phone off charge and then managed to worm my way back to my spot in the bed. Bladder relieved, I could relax and rewatch the video from last night. I was instantly hard as I watched Meg taking advantage of her dear friend. I noticed movement to my right as Clarissa woke slowly, squinting at what I was watching. When her panties were pulled back and released with the gratifying snap, Clarissa was shocked.

"How could I sleep through that?" She asked incredulous.

"You've slept through more." I responded. Then we both fell into silence, watching Meg do her worst.

"So when did you actually wake up?" I asked her.

"In my dream, some faceless man was preparing to fuck me from behind, I was getting off on how he was playing with my bum. You know how much it turns me on. So I suppose I was a wee bit awake then. But I was wide awake when -"

On the screen, Meg had just put her finger in her friend's arse.

"That dirty bitch put her finger in my arse."

"Did it shock you?" I asked.

"It did, but I nearly came on the spot. When she pushed her face into me, I was gone."

We lapsed into a comfortable silence. Then an idea hit me.

"Why don't you get your own back?"

A look of confusion bordering on horror appeared on Clarissa's face. "I am going nowhere near that woman's arse, I know where it's been!" she joked.

"I don't mean play with her arse, but I do mean - play with her while she's sleeping!" I suggested, a little too enthusiastically.

"Ben - I don't have necrophiliac tendencies. I like my subjects to be conscious. Where possible." she added.

She got out of bed and ran to the toilet, and a few minutes later she returned with a fresh face and the smell of toothpaste emanating from her.

"Right, Ben" she whispered. "I've never gone down on a woman before - what do I do?" She asked, standing next to the bed and looking down at Meg, who had thankfully rolled over onto her back - better for access.

Together we eased the blankets off Meg, revealing her beautifully naked form. Her legs were splayed open lewdly, and we both took our time drinking in the image of her breasts, complete with marks from the sheets she had been lying on, and her pussy - lips carefully closed together in sleep.

"Well, you're going to do to Meg what you enjoy me doing to you." I offered. "Just - go for gold".

Clarissa stifled a giggle. "Did you really just say that?" she asked behind her hand.

"Well - go for glory, fill your boots, sip from Meg's furry cup..." I continued, with Clarissa laughing silently.

Clarissa clearly wanted her audience in a conscious state, because she got close to Meg's ear and whispered just loud enough for me to hear.

"Meg, darling, don't be alarmed, but I'm just going to, um, go down on you for a bit, ok?"

Meg nodded sleepily, which surprised Clarissa.

"By that I mean - lick your vagina, Meg - as in - eat you out."

A sleepy smile crept onto Meg's face, but it seemed to disappear as soon as it arrived, such was her stupor.

"Ok, here goes." Clarissa said, in what was the least sexy thing to say before engaging in her first attempt at cunnilingus.

She lay between Meg's legs and rested on her elbows. She used her fingers to brush through the bright red curls adorning Meg's womanhood. She softly traced the lips, watching in awe as they slowly filled with blood and became more engorged. She touched her fingertip to the hood over Meg's clit, and was rewarded by a heavy sigh and a slight squirm. She did this for a minute or two, looking for the different reactions.

Growing bolder, she licked a finger and slipped it into Meg's entrance, which was still showing no signs of being open for business. She, like me, knew all too well that looks could deceive and that Meg's outer lips were doing a sterling job of hiding a molten wetness within. With a little more persistence, Clarissa's finger sank into Meg's depths, and there was an audible gasp from both women. She gently pushed her finger all the way in, twisting gently and removing it.

Clarissa studied the sticky dew, and then used the lubrication to further her exploits. Back inside Meg her finger went, time and again until she was slowly gyrating her hips into the bed. Operating on instinct, Clarissa reached up and drew Meg towards her by her hips, and as she did so she began licking tentatively at her clit, and then using the flat of her tongue to drag over the sensitive bud. Meg was lost in the sensations, eyes closed, focusing fully on pleasure.

I reached down and took my very hard cock in my hand, gently stroking myself as I witnessed yet another sexual highlight taking place. I could have come immediately, such was the charge running through me, but I wanted to see Meg come against my girlfriend's face, so I rode the sensations and enjoyed the view.

Clarissa is a person who only does things if she can do them well, and right at this moment, Meg was the beneficiary of her impressive application to the task at hand. Clarissa turned her hand in such a way that she was using her thumb and forefinger to open Meg up, allowing room for her to lick at her clit, while employing the index finger of her right hand at the base of her now saturated cunt. She alternated between gently stretching Meg's entrance down, and then sliding the finger all the way into the slick channel.

I saw Meg's face begin to contort, heard her breathing grow shallow, and I noticed that Clarissa had sensed the change through her ministrations, because all at once she used her busy fingers to pulse and then apply pressure around, in and on Meg's engorged womanhood.

And then Meg came.

She flooded Clarissa's face. Squirt after squirt of ejaculate erupted into Clarissa's mouth and over her cheeks. I was about to get up behind Clarissa and fuck her when I felt Meg's hand on my cock. She pulled me over her and tugged me urgently, feverishly, a look of need in her eye, knowing I was close, and then pointing my erupting cock over her tits.

As my orgasm subsided I looked up to see Clarissa up on her knees, staring wide-eyed at Meg's cum-covered boobs, and stroking herself to what appeared to be an intense, paralysis-inducing orgasm.

The morning passed quietly - showers (individual ones), dozing, a breakfast of fresh fruit and muesli, hushed conversations, knowing looks and stifled giggles as we each recalled the relationship-changing events of the past 24 hours. Rather than usher in any awkwardness, it seemed to have brought us all closer, across a barrier of sorts, and I couldn't remember ever having experienced such a feeling of understated rightness.

I stood at the kitchen sink, washing up, when Meg hugged me from behind, and being much shorter than me, she rested her cheek on my shoulder blades.

"There's a dishwasher, you know. You don't have to try to score any points - I think you did your social standing no harm with your recent exploits." She murmured.

"I didn't actually do anything - I watched as the two of you did all the doing" I replied truthfully.

"Yeah, well - it would never have happened without you." Meg said.

We fell into an easy silence. Then I turned and hugged her properly. I detected a change in her mood, and she seemed not to want to end the embrace. Finally she looked up at me with reddened eyes, tears working their way down her pretty face.

"I'm going to miss you both so much. I think I'm a bit in love. With you both, with us all."

I nodded my understanding. This cocoon of affection, sex and contentment was soon to be ripped apart, evicting its inhabitants, forcing them into the cold world outside. I saw Clarissa come into the room, and she joined the hug, linking her arms around us both, hugging Meg from behind. She caught the mood and cried quietly, nuzzling into Meg's fiery red hair.

I disengaged from the group embrace, knowing I had to get ready for a meeting with my old creative director. Having left my agency in New Zealand before our UK break, I was in need of planning my next move in order to earn some money. I wasn't convinced that agency life was going to be for me in the long term, and the more I got to know Clarissa, the less I think the life of a hard-nosed lawyer was her ideal.

"You girls go out shopping, talk about knitting and periods, do some multi-tasking, and by the time you're done, I'll be back having hunted and gathered some dinner from the wild."

"I take it back, I love Clarissa, not you. You're a mysoginistic cock." deadpanned Meg.

"Good to know." I replied with an intended arrogance.

"Fax me!" I called over my shoulder as I left our haven

"Fuck you, you mean" Shouted Meg through the window as I left, which did not impress a nattily dressed old lady walking her dog.

I shook my head in sympathy at such an outburst and glowered at the window where Meg had clamped her hand over her mouth, no doubt wishing she could take the obscenity back. I chuckled all the way to the underground.

Soho Square used to be a really cool part of London, very much ad-land, but nowadays it has a shabby feel to it. It was such a cold January day that I decided to be outside as little as possible. Andy and I had agreed to meet up at a pub everyone simply knew as San Miguel, even though that wasn't the official name. It's on Oxford St, just before the intersection with Tottenham Court Road, and the surly Spaniard behind the bar would serve you anything you want as long as it was San Miguel - hence the name. I got there a little early so ordered the beers and put some money in the beautiful old jukebox.

Sam Cooke's "Bring it on home" cascade from the speakers, and I was in my happy place. I had a good woman waiting for me across the other side of the city, and there was every chance that woman was doing intimate things with another good woman. I had beer, and I had hope for my future. I realised just how far I had come since that fateful afternoon seeing Sarah being fucked by my friends.

"Fuck me, you been at the spray tan Benny Boy?" Andy bellowed as he made his way to my booth. We stood and hugged hard, slapping backs and gripping arms as men who have a genuine connection are wont to do occasionally.

"Andy, the sun out there is brutal, you either tan or blister." I replied.

"What the fuck are you doing back here, then? This place is baltic." Andy asked.

"I brought my new girlfriend back here. She's got lots of friends, I had a few loose ends to tie up, and I need to figure out my next move." I explained.

He wore a look on his face that said "I told you so".

"What did I say? I said - get down there and find yourself some flightless bird, give her what for and forget Little Miss Spit Roast ever existed, didn't I? He was very proud of himself.

"Well, not in so many words, but there was some truth to it, so yes - you can bask in the glory, Andrew." I laughed.

"Don't mind if I do, Benny Boy - don't mind if I do." He did a little drum roll on the table with his fingers, then picked up his pint, downing it in one. "Fuck me, did I not need that!"

He ordered another round of beers and we settled in to chat. Andy was a rough and ready boy-made-good. He was a phenomenal art director and photographer, a talent that was heightened by the fact that he never had grand ideas about himself or his art. His eye stayed true, he stuck to what he loved, and because of that he was one of the most reliable and sought after visual thinkers in London. I had learned a ton from him, both professionally and personally. Andy had a wife and three children, and he loved them more than anything. Most men in his position had pretty young things falling off them, a part-time drug habit and at least one ex-wife. Not Andy, he married Celeste at 19 in a small Church in High Wycombe, and had been with her ever since.

"Right Ben, I'm now three beers better off, and that is the official level of inebriation to help sorry little cunts like you to sort themselves out. After five beers, it all turns to custard, so hurry up." Andy stated.

"Well, I love writing, but not copywriting. And I love coming up with ways to sway opinion and change behaviour, but I don't want to use my skills to sell..."

"Shit that no one needs?" Andy finished for me?

"Precisely." I replied.

Andy stared at me for a long time, and grew serious.

"I've been keeping an eye on you. I've kept in touch with your creative director in New Zealand, and he raves about you. I've always been a fan of your way of understanding why people do things and how to get them to do good things."

I waited, getting the feeling like this was going somewhere.

"Now, you know that I'm a bloke who likes to be at home as much as possible, yeah?"

I nodded.

"Ben, I don't need to be at work. I don't need to the money. I do it because I enjoy it. Celeste is made of more money than you could dream of. We're beyond loaded."

"But, you're so...normal..." I started, but Andy cut me off.

"I'm not a cunt, and I hate rich pricks who think they're all that, cos money can make people into the worst versions of themselves. We're normal, we live in a normal house, in a normal street, but we just have more money than we'll ever know what to do with." Andy wasn't boasting, he was telling me as if he was telling me about the weather forecast.

"Ben, this is going to sound fucken' mad to you, as in proper nuts, but just go with it. Celeste and I have decided not to give our money to charity, cos it all goes in the wrong places. We've decided we would rather find a bunch of amazing people, and pay them to go and do what they do so they can help the world. So, you're an amazing writer - you can come up with ideas to solve shit, you change hearts and minds, and you're a great person. There are charities and groups and people who would need what you do, but can't afford you. Celeste and I are going to pay you handsomely to be you."

I was stunned. Literally motionless. I opened my mouth to speak, but cut me off.

"No - have I said you can talk? No. So shut it. I've also been checking up on your new missus. Turns out she's an exceptional lawyer - her lecturers and all the firms she's interned with think she's the duck's nuts. So we want to pay her, too. You can travel, you can see the world, right wrongs, fix breaks, tell cool stories, help the helpless - just do what you do to the best of your ability, and let us have the pleasure of making it possible."

Unbelievably, I had tears in my eyes. He reached out and hugged me again, this time with real tenderness. Then he suddenly pushed me away and looked disturbed by something.

"Fuck, I forgot to say, it's all above board - Celeste told me to tell you that it's not drug money or gun running or laundering or anything like that. Celeste's Aunt Elsa was one of the richest birds in Britain, she was also a raging lesbo and never had any kids. She loved Celeste like a daughter, so when she bit the dust, she left it all to Celeste, with the condition that she do good with it all. Phew, if I'd forgotten that, I'd be a dead man."

"Andy, I..."

"Don't make any decisions now - go home, talk to Clarissa, then come for tea. We'll sort it out then." Andy finished his beer, slammed it down on the table and stood up, wrapping his scarf around him.

"Be in touch, sooner the better, Benny Boy - you and your lass have got some good to do in this world!"

—————————————————-

"You know how you said that you want to be a lawyer, but not for the rich people who could afford one?" I asked Clarissa as we sat in Meg's lounge room enjoying a Central Otago Pinot as our host was out at the gym. Clarissa looked questioningly at me.

"And you know how you said you don't want to work for "the man"?" I enquired further. Clarissa nodded.

"Well, this might sound very strange, and it does sound strange - even to me, and I've had a couple of hours to process all this. But - you will have to work for a man, but not "the" man. And you can take any case you want, anywhere that you are allowed to practise law."

"Ben, you are making no sense whatsoever. Stop talking in riddles." Clarissa demanded, but there was a level of excitement beneath the frustration.

"Clar, my former creative director married into serious money, as in - they couldn't spend it all if they tried. And today, he told me he wanted to pay us, to employ us, to be amazing at what we do. He wants me to do write the stories of people whose stories never get told - the proper heroes in our world. And he wants you to help the people who have no chance of defending themselves."

Clarissa processed quietly. "But he doesn't even know me." She protested.

"He's spoken to your lecturers and the law firms where you interned, and they've said good things." I replied.

"So, he's giving us a basic wage, and we go from there?" She asked.

"No, he said he'd pay us handsomely. And it's not just us, they're sponsoring theatre directors, singer-songwriters, inventors, doctors, nurses, teachers. 20 people, apparently."

I showed her the text I had received from Andy not long after returning from San Miguel.

She cautiously rose from her seat, taking care not to spill her expensive wine, placing it carefully on the side table, and then launched herself at me. She hugged me hard and kissed me repeatedly on the cheek, then the mouth.

"Ben, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Every day gets better. I have no idea if this is real, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. Can I tell Meg?" She pleaded.

"Yes, but only Meg." I warned. As I spoke, an email popped up on my phone with more of the finer details about our arrangement. We both sat down to read and discover what our immediate future looked like.

———————-

"Fuck off". Meg said, emphatically. It was some time later and I had forgotten that Clarissa was planning to tell Meg about our new employment. I looked up in alarm to see that she was staring aghast at the details on Clarissa's phone, with Clarissa herself standing to her side, hopping from foot to foot excitedly.

"No really. Fuck. Right. Off. Two hundred grand? Each. Per year? To do what you want?" She looked between us both, brow knitted in mock fury. "You two, pack your bags, you can't stay here - you're way too blessed. Fuckers."

Meg's language always took a turn for the worse when she got excited. She took on the persona of a school mistress as she read the email out loud.

"Ahem.

Dear Ben and Clarissa,

It's with huge delight that we can offer you the positions of game changers in your profession. You have been chosen for your humanitarian natures, your skills in your field and your ability to resonate with people.

We require from you both a plan of work and a supporting itinerary, along with an annual report on results. We would like you to commit to at least 2 years of working with us, after which time we can assess the arrangement to ensure it is working for both parties.

Individual contracts have been drawn up and are attached to this email, however we hope our offer of 200,000 pounds per annum plus airfares and expenses meets with your approval.

We would love to have found the time to offer this in person, to have you around for "tea" but we are now recruiting some very special people in New York so are needed elsewhere. Rest assured that we are very excited to be on the cusp of a programme that will have genuine change in the world.

XXXXXXX

The Game Changers.

PS - sorry for using the word cusp - Andy says only cunts use such a word.

Love, Celeste."

Meg stopped, and when she looked up at me, there was real tenderness in her eyes. "You two really are special, and this is just what you deserve. Please feel that this is your home away from home - your base whenever you're in London." She got a wicked gleam in her eye as a thought crossed her mind. "I mean, it's win-win - you get a place to stay and I get myself eaten out by two of the most talented tongues in the world."


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