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This is fiction intended for legal adults readers. If it is not legal, DO
NOT read.  This is a copyrighted work.  Reposting or any other use strictly
prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder,
except may be posted as part of a review or posted to my pre-approved
archives.

Copyright 2002 by E. Z. Riter a/k/a Ezra Zane

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com and ezrazanewrites@hotmail.com

Please!        Give me your comments!

The works of E.Z. Riter are archived at www.storiesonline.net and at
www.asstr-mirror.org (http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/E.Z.Riter) And at
www.ruthiesclub.com

The works of E.Z Riter writing as Ezra Zane are archived at
www.ruthiesclub.com which is a fully illustrated pay website.

Hello, Dear Readers, This is another story written under the name Ezra Zane
for Ruthie's Club and published by it last year. It was edited by that
wonderful lady, Ruthie. I do hope you enjoy it. E.Z.

JEZEBELS

By Ezra Zane

Part Two

Becky wore the sleep shirt and a pair of jeans. When we got into the truck,
she slid to the middle and put that seat belt around her. Her hand was on my
thigh as I drove to my townhouse. When I stopped in the driveway and turned
off the engine, Becky looked serious and a little sad.

"What's wrong?"

She spoke softly and with deep feeling. "My name's Rebecca Anne Morris, and
Anne is spelled with an 'e'. I have an older sister, a younger brother, and
my parents are divorced. I haven't seen any of them since I left home at
seventeen. I've got a BBA in accounting and that's the way I earn my living.
I'm five feet eight and half inches tall and weigh one hundred fifty-one
pounds. My eyes and hair are brown. My measurements are 42DD - 32 - 43. I've
got a little girl but I've never been married. I don't know who her father
is because I slept around. To be honest, I've lost track of the number of
men I've screwed, but I'd be faithful for the right man. I like relaxed,
happy times like the water park today, and I'd rather stay home than go out
to a bar or nightclub."

For reasons I didn't understand, my response was of primal importance to
her. She was on pins and needles as she studied my face.

"You've left out a few important things," I said. "You've got a heart as big
as all outdoors. You love giving to people important to you. You'd do
anything for them. Let me take an educated guess about the sex. You love it,
but at this point in your life you want intimacy more."

That delicious, passive, sexual twinkle appeared in her eyes again. "That's
the reason you're such a successful ladies' man. You read us like a book."

"Come on, Rebecca Anne with an 'e' Morris. I want to make love to you."

I held her hand as I led her to the bedroom. We undressed and slipped
between the sheets to cuddle and talk. Face-to-face and belly-to-belly, we
talked and touched and kissed until she lay back.

"You're a good man, Jack Williams," she said gently. "I like you." Her hand
found my cock. I kissed her as I moved on top of her. When we fucked, she
didn't close her eyes until near the end and she didn't make a sound other
than little gasps or an occasional moan. She felt good under me. Her wide
hips and giant breasts were soft, but the muscles underneath were hard. She
had rhythm and grace.

When I was close to coming, I pinned her wrists beside her head. She locked
her ankles behind my back, matching me thrust for thrust. Her pussy massaged
my cock when I came, but I thought she faked her orgasm.

"Mary's right," she said as she put her arms around my neck and held me
close. "You are a good lover."

She slept pressed next to me and awakened me at dawn with coffee.

"Let me know when you're ready for sex," she said as she sat cross legged on
the bed beside me. When I indicated I was, she smiled and said, "Lay back. I
want to be on top." She saw my expression. "Don't you let the woman get on
top?"

"Rarely."

"Have you ever let a woman tie you down?" Her eyes were twinkling sexily.
She perched on my midsection, wrapped her fingers around my wrists, and
slowly pushed my hands back by my head. I wrenched my hands away.

"No," I said forcefully.

"Why not?" I didn't answer. "Are you too macho for that?" she teased. Again,
she wrapped her fingers around my wrists and pushed my hands down on the
bed. I jerked to get away, but her fingers held me like a vise. I had a
moment of panic, which made her laugh devilishly. "Let me tie you down
sometimes, Jack. I promise you'll enjoy it."

"I tie the woman down," I said.

"You don't need to tie me down, but if you want to, go ahead. For now, let
me pleasure you." She kissed me hard, sat back, and released my hands. "Don'
t move them," she murmured.

She tantalized me slowly, dragging her breasts over my body, kissing and
nipping with her mouth, massaging and caressing with her hands. She had me
flying in no time as every square inch of my body seemed to be an erotic
zone for her to stimulate. I was twitching like I had palsy when I grabbed
her to roll her over, but she shushed me and gently pushed my hands down.
She held them there and let our organs find each other. She eased down and
stopped with my cock all the way in her.

"Move," I said.

"Shhh. Let me do it." Her nipple brushed my face. "Suck me, Jack," she
whispered. I suckled her nipple as she rocked gently on my cock. I don't
know how long we stayed that way as if in suspended animation, like floating
on a salty sea. Suddenly, she quivered and thrust harder.

"Oh," she moaned. "Ohhh. Oh, Jack, Ohh. Roll me over. Fuck me hard, Jack.
Please. Now."

I rolled her over and her legs tightened around me like a vise. Her arms
were around my shoulders.

"That's it. Fuck me good. Oh, God, Jack, Oh, God, Oh God. Jack. I'm going to
cum."

I thought she was going to crack some ribs as she tightened her legs around
me, arched, and dug her nails into my back. She sobbed and tears flowed down
her cheeks, but her pussy kept tightening until she giggled and relaxed when
I shot my load into her wetness.

We rested before making breakfast. After we did the dishes, she led me back
to bed. I flopped down. She knelt demurely beside me. Something was
bothering her. "You haven't had my bottom yet, Jack. Most women don't like
anal sex, but I do occasionally."

"Thanks, Becky. I'd like that, but let's do it some other time. Come cuddle
with me."

"I need to tell you one more thing." She looked apprehensive, maybe even
frightened.

"What is it?"

She took a deep breath. Her eyes begged me not to be angry with her. "I
danced in a gentlemen's club." She wasn't finished talking, so I waited. The
words were hard to let go. "And I had sex for money."

"Tell me about it."

"I danced for about two years. You've been to a gentlemen's club, haven't
you?"

"A few times."

"It's a good way for a woman to make good money. I needed the money because
I had a little girl to support and I was going to college. A lot of guys
offered to pay me for sex while I was dancing, but I only accepted once. He
was much older and a successful businessman. I met him once a week for about
six weeks before he asked if he could give my name to some of his friends.
They became clients, too. Eight of them. I was their girl of choice for
almost two years. The last time I had sex with any of them, he paid me to go
on a fishing trip. I arranged for another woman to go with me, and there
were two men. Dancing and hooking paid off my debt and let me finish
college." She smiled. "I'm tight with a dollar, Jack. I've still got part of
that money in investments."

"Would you do it again?"

"If you mean then and what my life was, the answer's yes. If you mean now,
the answer's no, unless there was a reason."

"Why did you tell me about your life as a pro?"

"I've never had a relationship with a man that didn't include big lies. I
didn't want that with you."

"If you're asking for forgiveness, Becky, I forgive you. If you're asking if
it bothers me, it doesn't. If you're asking if I want you to do it again,
the answer's no."

"Thank you, Jack," she whispered gratefully. She wiped away the tears
welling in her eyes.

"We need to talk about the relationship. It's only started."

"I know, but it might last a long time." She had that sexy, all knowing
twinkle and Mona Lisa smile again.

"And it might be over tomorrow," I countered.

"I doubt it. You told Mary the woman ends it by lying to you or trying to
change you. I'll never lie to you and I won't try to change you. I like you
the way you are. So, you'll have to end it, Jack, because I won't."

"Tell me two more things." I said. I touched her belly half way between her
belly button and her pubic bone where she had a tattoo identical to Mary's.
"Tell me about that and tell me what's going on."

"I will if you insist, but I'm asking you to please wait."

"I'll wait, but I don't like it."

"You will," she replied. "In the meantime, how about a nice long fuck?"

"I'm too pooped to pop," I said.

"Come on. I'll give you a bath."

My tub was designed for two people, although probably not two as big as we
were. Her strong hands massaged my back, shoulders, and arms. We dried each
other, dressed, and started for Mary's house.

After halfway there, Becky said, "Jack, I know you play bondage games
because you've played them with Mary, but have you ever disciplined a
 woman?"

"What do you mean?"

"Spanked her hard, like maybe with a hairbrush?"

"Never done it," I lied.

"That's too bad. Monica will need it."

"Want to tell me more?"

"No," she said. "You can figure it out."

Everyone was waiting for us. Mary kissed me hotly as Jimmy and Tiffany
tugged on my pants leg. When I leaned down to pick up Jimmy, the women
disappeared and Veronica showed up. With Jimmy in my lap and a girl on each
side, I read them a book until the three mothers reappeared.

"We thought we'd have lunch and then go to a movie. There's a great kids
show at the Cineplex."

They made soup and sandwiches with chips. All of us ate at the table with me
at the head again. I don't know what the women had discussed when they
huddled in the bedroom, but there was a strong sexual undercurrent in the
room.

After lunch, Monica said, "I want to stay here and talk to Jack. Why don't
you two take the kids to the movie?"

So that was their agreement. After the others left, Monica stood in the
middle of the living room. She wore shorts that fit her curves closely and a
sleeveless blouse unbuttoned to the bottom of her breasts. She was braless.
Clearly, she was dressed to attract attention.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"No, sir," she said.

"Do I frighten you?"

"You never have, but Becky told me what she said to you."

"Which was?"

"To punish me, but you don't need to punish me, Jack."

"Why not?"

"I don't need it. Sure, I like big, strong guys who'll hold me down and make
me beg for my fucking, and I hear you're like that. You don't need to spank
me with a hairbrush."

"I promise I'll do it only under one circumstance. That is if I'm absolutely
sure you want it."

She visibly relaxed. When I kissed her, she melted into my arms.

"I want to undress you."

Those bedroom blue eyes glowed. "Help yourself," she said sexily.

I unzipped her shorts. She wiggled as I tugged and they fell to the floor. I
unbuttoned the remaining buttons on her blouse, pulled it off her shoulders,
and dropped it to the floor.

"Stand right there. I want to look at you," I said. I plopped down in a
chair.

Monica's face was the most beautiful of the three in the classic sense of
the word. She had high cheekbones, alabaster skin, and beautiful blue eyes.
Her figure was an hourglass of excellent proportion. She knew how appealing
she was as she stood wearing only panties, her shorts bunched around her
feet. She played the game, pouting and looking up at me through her lashes.

"What are your measurements?"

"34C-23-35."

"Take off your panties," I said.

"Yes, sir," she replied in a little girl voice. She stepped out of her shoes
and shorts, wiggled her panties down her legs, and kicked them away. On
tiptoes, she slowly turned around, stopping once to give me a
Coppertone-girl pose.

Her pubis was hairless and there was a gold ring in her outer labia. And the
tattoo was there, identical to and in the same place as Becky's and Mary's.
I wiggled my finger and she came to me. With hands on her waist, I drew her
closer to explore her hills and valleys before I pulled her down to sit on
my lap, with her legs outside mine. She put her arms around my neck to kiss
me and her tongue played with mine.

"I've got some questions," I said.

"Go ahead."

"Is your pussy permanently hairless?"

"Yes, Jack. I had electrolysis."

"Who put the ring in your pussy?"

"My husband, Del."

"Can it be removed?"

"No. It would have to be cut out surgically."

"Why did he want you to have the pussy ring?"

"Sometimes he attached a leash to it. Sometimes I wore a chain that would
hang below my hemline. The other end of the chain had a medallion, you know,
like a dog tag with his name on it to show he owned me."

"How often did he make you wear the medallion?"

"Often enough."

"Did you like that?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you like being owned?"

"Yes. Well, I don't know. Maybe. Sometimes."

My hands slid up her thighs and over her hips to cup her ass. I pulled her
closer and she ground her pussy into me. My cock was growing. When it bumped
into her crotch, she put her hand between us and tried to get him in her,
but I pulled away.

"Let me have him," she said.

I struggled to my feet with Monica hanging onto me, lay her back on the
floor, and slid my cock into her. Mary had been hot and ready. Her eagerness
and joy brought pleasure to her and her man. Becky knew how to please a man.
She didn't care whether she came or not as long as I was happy. But Monica
was cool to the touch, as if letting the man have her body was reward enough
for him. I'd seen that before in beautiful women. By the time I came, I knew
Monica was the lousiest lay of the three, and one of the worst I ever had.

Monica and I scurried to get into our clothes when we heard the van in the
driveway. Within minutes, I was on the couch with my feet on the coffee
table, watching a kid show on television. Monica was sitting on my right
with her hand on my leg and Tiffany in her lap. Becky was on my left with
her hand on my leg and Veronica beside her. Mary was on the floor at my
feet, playing with Jimmy, but she stroked my leg intermittently.

At dinner, I sat at the head of the table for homemade meatloaf, mashed
potatoes, green beans, with ice cream sundaes for dessert. I read the kids a
story before helping put Jimmy to bed.

"We drew straws, Jack. I get you for tonight," Becky announced. We left for
my apartment with Becky's suitcase in hand. Again, she sat in the middle
seat with her hand on my leg.

When we walked through the door, she asked, "How about a massage?" She
stretched a sheet of plastic across the bed. I removed my clothes and lay
face down on the plastic. She removed her clothes, opened the massage oil
container, and began to work on me. Her hands were strong.

"You're good," I said.

"Thanks. I took some training in it, but I can do a lot of other things
 too."

"Such as?"

"Cook, nurture children, repair household appliances, prepare a budget and
stick to it, balance books, select pension plans. A woman for all seasons."

"Don't forget fuck like crazy."

"That, too. I enjoy it, Jack. I enjoy you." She kissed me on the cheek.
"That was the first orgasm I had from a man since before I started hooking,
and it was the best one I can remember."

"Thanks, but I'm surprised you don't have them all the time."

"Don't be. I can fake it with the best of them."

"Do you date often?"

"I usually have one or two dates a month, but I haven't screwed any of them
in a long time." Her hands stopped their rhythmic massage. "I'm having an
affair with my boss. We slip out one afternoon every week."

"Lucky dog."

"He is a dog. We were having a cutback at the company when he gave me the
choice of being laid off or laid."

"Ouch."

"Well, it wasn't so bad. It's a good job."

"I mean that hurt."

"Sorry. You must be tender there."

"I wasn't. Don't take out your anger on me. I'm a fragile little guy."

"Oh, poor baby," she laughed. "There's nothing little about you. Wait a
minute. Roll back on your face. I'm not finished."

"I want to see you."

"Why?"

"I like looking at you," I said.

She poured more oil in her hands and started on my thighs. "I like looking
at you, too, sweet talker."

"Tell me about your boss."

"Average everything. If he'd romanced me a little, I might've had an affair
with him, but he didn't give me a chance. I think making a demand of me and
having me comply with it was a power trip that played with his head. That
power is more important to him than the sex."

"Is he a demanding master?"

"He thinks he is," she said with a laugh. "But I set strict limits. I don't
wear any man's collar."

"Do you want to continue it?" She gave me that enigmatic Mona Lisa smile
again. I changed the subject. "What about women?"

"What about them?" she teased.

"Don't be coy. Inquiring minds want to know."

"Occasionally, I meet another woman who catches my interest. Maybe three or
four a year."

"What appeals to you?"

"You do."

"In women."

"That young mother at the pool appealed to me, but I couldn't have pulled it
off."

"I could have. Is that the reason you pointed her out?"

"No. It really was a test," she said.

"If I failed the test, there could've been an interesting side effect."

"Jack," she said intensely. "You have no idea how much I wanted you to pass
that test, and you did with flying colors." Her face was a good face.
Pretty, with strength and character, and beautiful in its own way. More than
that, she had a natural sensuality that glowed. "Have you figured it out
yet?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"About us. Monica, Mary, and me."

"Yes," I replied smugly.

"Oh? What is it?"

"The three of you are going to try to get me to marry one of you, but it won
't work."

"We understand that."

"You're welcome to keep trying. I'm enjoying myself."

"I hope so. Did you spank Monica?"

"No."

"Then she was lousy in bed," Becky said in a matter-of-fact tone. Her hands
passed over my middle and started on my chest.

"You're right. How did you know?"

"That's the way she is. After you demonstrate your strength so she'll feel
safe being under your control, she'll be as hot as Mary, but you have to
take her, Jack. I mean in the old fashioned sense of physical domination."

"Why do you hang out with her?"

"I love her."

"Love her how?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't. Do you mean do I love her like a sister, which she is to me?
Or do I love her like she was my child? That's different than a sister, but
sometimes she's like my child, too. Or do you mean do I love her like a
woman loves another woman, which can mean either platonically like very
closest friends, or as lovers with face to pussy?"

"Which way do you love her?" I asked.

"All of the above."

"You and Monica have sex."

"Yes. I'm a true bisexual, Jack."

"When you said you'd be faithful, that didn't include women?"

She had a big grin and a mischievous twinkle. "The right man wouldn't ask me
to give them up. He'd enjoy them, too."

"Makes sense," I said. "How about you and Mary?"

"In bed? Sure, but not regularly. Usually it's when some man insists. Mary
enjoys it, but she'll never admit that. If a man tells her to pleasure a
woman, it removes her guilt." She put more lotion on her hands and her
thoughts were introspective. "I'm like Monica in some ways, like Mary in
others. I was a bitch."

"What changed you?"

"Growing up, I guess. I'm ready to settle down."

"I won't marry you, Becky."

"I didn't ask."

"What the hell is going on?" I said firmly.

"Make love to me, Jack."

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

"Can't you wait until the weekend?" she asked. "Please. For us. For me."

"I don't think so."

"Which part has been so bad, Jack? Three women making love to you day and
night? The cuddling and cooing? The home cooked meals? The water park, where
we had to practically drag you out of the place to go home? The kids, which
you enjoy more than you'll admit? What didn't you like?"

"Okay. It's been a lot of fun. Well, hell, it's been the best time I've ever
had, but what's so special about the weekend?" I asked.

"It was going to be a surprise, but since you insist on knowing. We reserved
a cabin at The Cedars."

"The Cedars? You must be planning something special."

"We are."

"All right. I'll keep my curiosity in check until the weekend."

She leaned over me, resting on her elbows. "I've got an itch I can't
scratch. Got any ideas?"

"My scratcher needs attention," I said.

"That, I can do. Mouth or boobs?"

"Both."

She sucked my cock until he rose, then lay back and handed me the massage
oil. I poured it liberally over her body.

"You're going to get your sheets oily," she said. That soft, passive, sexy
twinkle was in her eyes again. I was growing to love that look.

"They'll wash, and so will we." I spread the oil from her shoulders to her
thighs. When I jammed a finger in her pussy and tickled, she moaned. I
kneaded her flesh from breasts to thigh, feeling it ooze through my hands. I
straddled her mid section. She guided my cock to her mouth for a quick kiss
before holding it between her breasts. I gently began to thrust. I had no
desire to orgasm. I lost myself in the feel of her beneath me and her
breasts around my cock. When I couldn't stand the throbbing in my nuts, I
slipped between her legs.

"I do love fucking you, Jack," she whispered.

*****

That was Sunday with Becky. Monica was Monday and Tuesday. Monica was a good
conversationalist who was both witty and bright. In bed though, she was
marginal, letting me masturbate using her cool body. If it had been Monica
alone and not the three of them, Tuesday would've been our last date. Mary
was Wednesday. She was eager, ready, and a lot of fun.

Thursday, I had an emergency job and didn't see them. The woman of the house
made it clear that I could have her. She was good looking enough, and eager
enough, but I turned her down. I told her I was in a relationship. Saying
that surprised the hell out of me. I did some heavy thinking about those
three good friends who fell into my life. Some very heavy thinking.

I arrived at Mary's house at six thirty Friday evening. A Mrs. Potter, who
was around sixty, was firmly entrenched as protector of the three kids. I
loaded their luggage, which included two heavy bags and two insulated
coolers, into the back of the truck, kissed the children goodbye, and loaded
the three women. Monica rode shotgun.

The Cedars was a resort with all the amenities, including a choice of a room
in the lodge or a secluded cabin. We had a cabin. We arrived about eight
thirty, checked in, and crossed the threshold of our weekend hideaway
shortly before nine. The living room had two long couches that made into
queen sized beds, several heavy straight chairs, and a soft, plush carpet.
The kitchen and dining room were small but serviceable. The bedroom was
massive, with a larger than king sized bed. I guessed it could sleep four
easily and six in a pinch. Opposite it was a big screen TV, VCR, and stereo
system. The bathroom was bigger than my bedroom at home and contained a full
complement of facilities. As promised, two walls of the bedroom were
mirrored. Another wall had the closet and entertainment center. The fourth
wall was a sliding glass door that exited to a patio and hot tub.

"Nice," Mary murmured as she looked around.

"Very nice," Monica agreed.

We unloaded the truck, put the food away, and took bathroom breaks. When I
returned to the living room, they were in a huddle, whispering intently.

They guided me to one of the straight chairs they had moved opposite a
couch. When I sat down, Mary fell to her knees to remove my shoes and socks
while Becky massaged my shoulders and Monica brought me a glass of wine. The
three of them sat side by side on the couch with Becky in the middle. They
were nervous, giggly, and held hands for mutual support. I was calm and cool
as a preacher at a funeral, which is how I react when my adrenalin is
boiling.

"Jack," Becky began. "We have a proposition for you."

"I'm all ears."

Becky took a deep breath. "Jack, we three have enjoyed these ten days."

"Loved it," Mary interrupted.

"We want to do it a long time," burst out of Becky in a rush. "Like
 forever."

"She didn't mean forever, Jack," Mary gasped out.

All three of them were on edge. The funny thing was the word "forever" would
have sent me running from the room in stark terror just a few weeks ago, but
it didn't bother me nearly as much as I expected.

"We want you to move in with us," Becky concluded.

"Us?" I asked.

"I'd move in, too," Monica said.

"The house is too small," I commented.

"We've been looking for a bigger place so Monica could move in. Finding a
larger one shouldn't be a problem."

"How would you pay for it?" I said, buying time to ease my whirling mind.

"Mary's grandmother left her the house we're in now. It's free and clear.
She'd sell it and we've all got some savings. Together that makes the down
payment. The three of us make enough money to support the mortgage. Getting
the house is the easy part and we three can live together without a lot of
problems." Mary's eyes flicked at Monica. "If the four of us lived together,
we'd have to agree on rules to live by."

"I wouldn't live anywhere I didn't pay my own way," I said.

"I told you," Mary said out of the corner of her mouth.

"And I wouldn't live anywhere I didn't make the rules. All the rules."

"All the rules?" Monica asked.

"Yes. All of them."

"Okay, Jack. If you make all the rules, and we agree to abide by them, then
you'll do it?" Mary asked.

"I didn't say that."

"What did you say?" Becky asked.

"Yes. What was it?" Monica added.

"I'm not sure what you're suggesting," I said. "If it's an equal
partnership, then there are four votes, one for each of us. You three are
lifelong friends and could be expected to vote together on everything. I
wouldn't agree to that." I stood up.

"Where are you going?" Mary said.

"To get another glass of wine," I replied.

"I'll get it for you," Monica said, taking my wine glass.

I didn't want more wine. I wanted time to think. When Monica returned, I
sipped and waited. Mary couldn't stand it. "Well? What do you suggest?" she
demanded.

"What do you suggest?" I countered.

"Don't you want to do it?" she asked plaintively.

"I'd love to do it, Mary, under the right agreement. You three are
beautiful, sexy, intelligent, and loving women. Living with the three of you
would be any man's dream."

"Tell us that dream, Jack," Becky said.

"First, you tell me about the identical tattoos on your tummies."

They responded with an embarrassed giggle, an open sexuality, and an
"I-knew-it" grin, respectively. Becky cleared her throat self-consciously.
"Jack, it shouldn't be a surprise that we all enjoy sex. In high school, we
were pretty wild."

"We were sluts," Mary said.

"No, we weren't," Monica snapped.

"We screwed a lot of guys so you can call us what you want. We decided to
get tattoos," Becky said.

"It wasn't common then, Jack. It was naughty," Mary exclaimed.

"When I first saw Mary's, I thought the 'J' was for Jim, but when I saw all
three, I knew it had to be something else," I said.

"It's for Jezebels," Monica told me.

 "Jezebels?" I queried. "And the triangle's inverted, like Superman."

"Right," Monica replied with a lewd little grin.

"Jezebels, the super sluts," Mary said sheepishly.

"I'm not the first guy all three of you have fucked, am I?"

"No," Becky said. "That's the way we did it. If one of us had him, all three
did."

"How many?"

"I have no idea," Becky said. "There was the football team."

"And basketball," Mary added.

"But we only did the starters on each of them."

"Don't forget Darrell."

"Add the nerds, of which Darrell was the worst."

"He proposed to all three of us."

"So did his brother."

"God, what losers."

"We did some of the teachers."

"Becky's brother."

"And both of mine," Monica added. "We fucked maybe seventy guys in high
school."

"How about college?"

"It slowed down for me when Veronica was born. Monica started dating Del
when they were sophomores. That took her out of circulation. Mary met Jim
when they were juniors. We got all the sex we wanted, but it wasn't the
same."

"How about girls?" I asked.

Mary blushed and covered her face. Monica's eyes flitted between Becky and
me. Becky never looked away.

"Girls, too," Becky said. "But not necessarily all three."

"Why not?"

"I told you I'm bisexual. Mary's not."

"And I'm not. Well, maybe. Sometimes," Monica said.

"It doesn't turn me off," Mary interjected. "I do it to please a man, or to
please Becky, rather than pleasing myself, if you know what I mean."

"So, all three of you screwed guys and gals. Does that include the two
husbands?"

"Sure. We all three did Jim any time he asked," Mary said.

"Good Lord, why did he leave you?"

"Got religion, he said," Mary answered. "I want you to know something, Jack.
When I decided to marry Jim, I never cheated on him. I never fucked another
guy from that day forward - except Del, but Jim knew about that before we
married."

"How many men have you had since he left?"

"You're the first," she said. "Well." She cleared her throat, reddened
slightly, and gave a nervous half-smile. "Jack, are blowjobs sex?"

"They are the way you do them," I said, grinning at her.

"I've given six or seven different guys blowjobs since Jim left, so I guess
I've had sex."

"And most men think blowjobs are cheating." Becky said. "At least they do
when they wives or girlfriends give them."

"Meaning what?" I asked.

"Meaning I was queen of the cocksuckers in high school and college," Mary
said. "Jim knew and he understood that I need cum like other women need
chocolate. When I said I never cheated, that meant no guy ever had my pussy.
I sucked off a lot while I was married to Jim."

"How about now?" I asked.

"I've got two guys I do regularly. One's twice a week or so. The other is
every business day."

"Every day?" I asked.

"He's the owner's husband. He wants his cock sucked when he comes by to pick
up the day's receipts."

"How about you, Monica?"

"How about me what?" she asked innocently.

"Don't play games with me."

"I don't think my sex life is any of your business," she replied haughtily.

"Tell him or we will," Becky said.

Monica gave her a dirty look, but she said, "I was Del's playtoy. I did
whatever he told me to do." I waited. "You want details?"

"Yes," I answered.

"You name it. Playing games, swinging, gangbangs, fucking his friends,
having sex in public, dogs, B&D. A lot of B&D."

"What parts did you like?"

"All of it except the really rough stuff." Her jaw was set, her face intent.
Head high. Breasts thrust out. Eyes challenging.

"Tell me about the games."

"His favorite one was master-slave. We played that most of the time, but
there were others. We'd play doctor-patient, cop and crook, French maid and
aristocrat. I even had costumes for them. One game he called 'rape.' He'd
take me someplace like a sleazy bar or frat house, get everyone's attention,
and tell them I liked to be raped."

"Do you?"

"I hate it," she hissed.

"But you like master-slave?"

"With the right master," she said.

"Tell me about the dogs."

"What's to tell?"

"I've never seen that."

"Buy me a dog," she said, with a lewd little grin.

"Did you do drugs?"

"No. Del dealt, but he didn't give them to me." She smiled wanly, but her
eyes held a message for me. "He didn't need to. I did everything he asked."

"Mary?"

"No drugs, Jack," she replied.

"Becky?"

"No, sir."

"What else do you need to tell me?" I asked Monica.

"Nothing," Monica replied, but I knew she was lying.

"Ladies, let's not lie to each other. Agreed?"

All three said yes.

"What else, Monica?"

"Becky was doing some hooking. Her client wanted two girls to entertain a
group for a week. I went along."

"You lied to me," I snarled at Becky.

She blanched. "No, I didn't. That part was Monica's to tell you," she
stammered.

"A half truth is as bad as a lie."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

I knew Becky was the key. She was the biggest and strongest physically, but
that wasn't all of it. She was the toughest mentally and emotionally. The
dominant one of the three. I had to bend her to me if I wanted this thing to
be successful. Oh shit! Did I want it to be successful? They were watching
me as my brain churned that problem. I needed to get on with this, so I took
a deep breath and said, "Do you want to correct any thing else you told me?"

"No, sir," Becky said shamefaced.

"I'm disappointed in you, Becky," I said and my voice reinforced the words.
She looked hang-dog.

"Mary, did you ever play for pay?"

"No, Jack." She looked insulted.

"What else did you do?"

"Not as much as Monica, but a lot. Even the dog, but I only did one.
Charlie. He was a Lab."

"Where is your husband, Monica?"

She looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

"You've never said what happened to him. Are you divorced?"

"He's dead, Jack. The police killed him in a drug bust."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

"I'm not. It was pretty bad at the end and I was afraid to leave him."

"Anybody since then?"

"If you mean have I gotten laid, the answer's yes." She smiled. "But not a
lot. I'm more selective than you think."

"If you three have had that varied and open a sexual past, why should I
think you'll be faithful now?"

"Do you want us to be faithful?" Becky asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Are you sure? How about that woman at the water park. You wanted her," she
continued.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"A lot. Let's assume we agree that you make the rules and we'll abide by
them. And let's assume that one of your rules is that we'll be faithful."

"Does faithful mean no other men or no other men unless you want to swap
 us?" Mary asked.

"Or give us to your friends?" Becky added.

"And does it mean that you'll be faithful?" Monica said.

"Don't run, Jack. Please," Mary pleaded. "You shouldn't have said that word,
Monica."

"Why not? He used it."

"Let's take a break," I said.

"This is hard for us, too," Monica said. "You're not the only one giving up
your freedom."

"It's not hard on me. Tell me what you want," Mary pleaded emphatically.

"I need some time to think and so do you," I said. "I think I know what I
want but I'm not sure."

"What is it?" Mary asked. Her frustration was evident.

"I'm sure the three of you have discussed it. Look, I want a break and you
three need time to talk."

I got a soft drink from the kitchen and went in the bedroom to watch TV.
Usually, I watch TV nude, but this time I left my clothes on. We had more
important things to consider than sex. I tried to relax, but I was uptight.
I wished I could've been a bug on the wall listening to them.

One thing for sure, my life would change. That was a problem because I liked
my life. I was getting laid four or five times a week by three or four
different women. New ones were always available and the old ones liked a
repeat performance. Like it or not, this arrangement would require
commitment, and that made my blood run cold. Yet, they were three appealing
and special women, and I knew I'd settle down sometime.

The women joined me in about twenty minutes, but I led them back into the
living room where we sat as we had before so I could see their faces.

"Wine?" Monica asked.

I needed a clear head to handle this situation, so I told her to bring water
or soft drinks for everyone. They were on edge. I was calm - outside.
Inside, I was in turmoil.

"Jack, like I said, we'd like the four of us to live together in one house.
You'd be the man of the house, and we would be, for lack of a better word,
your wives," Becky began.

My heart was beating like it was ready to explode. They all had little
smirks. They knew what the word "wife" did to me, and "wives" was three
times worse.

"Or, if you'd prefer, like you were the pasha and we were your harem," Becky
added.

"Do harem girls wash and do dishes?" Mary cracked.

"They do fuck and suck whenever asked," Monica said.

"I prefer the harem concept," I said.

"Do you want us to wear costumes, Jack? Maybe like Jeannie on the TV show,"
Becky teased with tongue-in-cheek.

"We need to know the basic rules before we finalize the agreement," Monica
said sharply.

"And we need to have the financial part worked out," Becky said.

"I'm not saying I'll do it. I want to talk to each of you alone to discuss a
few things," I said as I stood. "Mary. Let's start with you."

To be concluded

Please give me your comments!

E-mail: ezrazanewrites@hotmail.com or ezriter@hotmail.com

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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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