"Foreign Affairs" -- Part III of the Anna Trilogy
written by:
Jack Handee

This is part III of a trilogy featuring the erotic exploits of Anna, a young woman on a quest of sexual discovery that begins with an affair with her boyfriend's father. I've chosen to post the trilogy as three individual stories, as I've noticed "connecting" them causes people to miss subsequent chapters.

While the installments could stand alone, I'd suggest reading Parts 1 and 2 before proceeding, as the story will be much more satisfying. If you have problems accessing previous installments, do a ‘Google' for ‘Jack Handee' and that should lead you to where you want to go.

Enjoy, and many thanks to everyone who has supported my stories thus far. Without you, the writing would have dried up a long time ago.

~Jack

~:~~:~

I arrived into Denver on schedule and not a minute too soon. The coach flight was packed and I'd been seated next to an overweight traveling salesman wearing a wrinkled plaid sport coat and giving off a lingering stench of sweat and Old Spice after-shave. When he wasn't staring lecherously at my short skirt, he was squashing me against the window with his walrus-sized-frame as he bellowed on with story after story about his traveling business conquests, one big yawn after another.

The plane landed and my best friend Alijia was waiting at the airport gate anxious to get the party rolling. I hadn't seen her in over a year, yet she still looked the same. Maybe better. She was the only person I knew that could take a hippie look and make it fashionable without even trying. She was wearing a knee-length, flowing cotton dress that was loose, yet voluptuously attached to all the right curves. Her brunette hair was longer than I remembered with a perm that framed her sculpted features and, as usual, she wasn't wearing a hint of make-up. With a complexion like hers, she didn't need it. She probably could have been a model if she wanted to, but wouldn't be caught dead in a designer anything. I envied her in that regard, in that she always seemed untouched by everything around her. Alijia was her own person and nobody else's.

The first thing she flashed me--outside of her straight white teeth--was a fake id she'd made for me using a picture pilfered from our high school yearbook. I barely looked old enough to drink now and sure didn't look old enough in the picture she'd stolen, but she assured me it would work like a charm. She was right. The first two clubs we visited took it without a flinch.

Despite all of Alijia's preparations and her contagious enthusiasm I really wasn't in the partying mood, but didn't have the heart to tell her. Granted this was supposed to be my get away vacation, the opportunity to leave behind everything in Minnesota and start over, and a wild night out seemed like just the trick to get things moving in the right direction. Unfortunately it wasn't working. There was still too much on my mind. The breakup with Trevor seemed like ancient history, but now I couldn't stop thinking about Jim.

We milled around the first couple of clubs, did some dancing, then eventually dropped the car off at Alijia's father's cabin and took a taxi to the final stop of the evening; the definite 'in' place to party whenever in Denver. We arrived and the owner greeted Alijia like a long lost friend. He escorted us around as she introduced me to more people than I could ever remember before we settled down in a semi-secluded corner of the club where she and her friends worked on the next layer of their buzz. I strategically took the end-spot at the table with a hope of remaining invisible until it was time to return to the cabin.

"Anna!" a voice shouted suddenly.

I jumped and turned around to see everybody at the table staring at me. So much for invisibility.

"You want anything else?" the waitress said, nodding to my empty wineglass.

"No, I think I'm okay."

"You've been pretty quiet all night," the guy across the table asked. "You having fun?"

He wasn't bad looking, but seemed a tad too aware of his beauty for my tastes. One of those chiseled jaw types that thought he should have a role on one of those weekly teen soap operas.

"Yeah, I'm having fun," I lied. "It's just been a long couple of weeks and I'm still feeling the jet lag."

"So, you wanna dance?"

"No, I'm kind of danced out, but thanks."

He reached across the table and took my hand, rubbing my ring finger. "No husband . . . does that mean no boyfriend either?"

I pulled my hand back and tucked it under the table.

Alijia's eyes were on me as she listened in on our conversation. "She used to have one," she interjected. "They just broke up. I don't think I know you," she added, reaching out to shake his hand. "I'm Alijia."

"Todd . . . and you?" he said, his eyes returning to me.

"Anna," I responded, trying to sound as disinterested as I felt.

"So you're going to college in Denver?"

It was clear he had already forgotten his introduction with Alijia. That was a shame, as he probably stood a better chance with her than he did with me. She was more into the pretty-boys than I was. I stared at the crowd and pretended not to hear him, hoping he would get the hint.

"So, are you always so stuck up?" he added when I didn't respond.

Now he was starting to piss me off. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, that got a reaction. You know you'd have a lot more fun if you'd loosen up a little. Get out on the dance floor. Have a few drinks. The best way to forget about an ex-boyfriend is to meet somebody new. Don't you think, Annie?"

"It's Anna, not Annie." I turned to Alijia. "I'm outta here. I'll be back later."

"Where ya going?" Todd asked.

"I changed my mind about that wine."

I started to squeeze past him and he reached for my hand. I pulled back and he squeezed harder, staring up at me, his eyes like steel. I didn't like his expression and I liked even less the feeling of his skin touching mine. "You want to let go of my hand, jerk?" I asked.

Everybody at the table sensed the tension and turned towards us. He squeezed a little harder, his eyes roaming down to my short skirt. "Well . . . if you change your mind, Annie . . . check back with me later. Who knows, I might still be interested."

"Do me a favor, Toad . . . hold your breath while you wait."

I yanked my hand from his and started for the bar. It was dopes like Todd that reinforced my sudden interest in older men like Jim. I'd read all the statistics about how men mature at a slower rate than women, but I was beginning to think it was something like dog years where it took them seven to our one.

I wasn't really interested in more drinking as much as being alone and figured I'd find a secluded place where I wouldn't have to deal with jerks hitting on me. But that wasn't going to be easy. Just like the coach flight coming over, the lodge was packed with wall-to-wall people, most of which had poured onto the dance floor. I maneuvered as best I could and paused to wait for some drunk to finish his impromptu demonstration of the Macarana, even though that wasn't the tune that was playing.

I waited and noticed two guys sitting at a table off to the side. I wasn't sure why they had caught my attention, beyond their distinctive look. It was a difference I couldn't easily describe, but something definitely unique. I guessed them to be in their early twenties, both with dark hair that was cut conservatively short. Kind of cute, with masculine features that weren't anything like the refined pretty-boy looks of Toad the 90210 wannabe. Actually, it was their unrefined image that I liked best.

One of them must have felt me watching, as he glanced in my direction, pausing from his conversation. His friend followed and we stared at one another for what felt like a minute. One of them toasted me with a beer and I smiled, then turned away before they could see me blush. I settled for an open spot near the bar and placed my order for another white wine. I waited and watched the crowd, glancing nonchalantly back to the table with the two cuties. They were still staring directly at me.

"Three dollars, please."

I turned to find the waiting bartender, his hands pressed palm down on the bar. I handed him a ten and he disappeared, then returned, apologizing for giving me most of my change in quarters. I was hesitant to turn around for fear that the guys at that table would catch me looking again. I turned in the opposite direction and noticed a bank of pay telephones near the hallway that led to the ladies' bathroom. I squeezed the silver in my hand and had a wild idea. I wondered what Jim was doing? I wondered what he was doing at that very moment? Had he gone out for the evening or stayed in? He was probably reading. He was always reading. I smiled, wondering if he might be reading the story that Jack Handee had written about us? I wondered if he was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him? I grabbed my wine and inched along the wall and into the hallway, leaning down to read the small card that gave directions on various calling options.

"Why am I doing this?" I muttered out loud. I put the wineglass on the counter, grabbed the receiver, and started dialing.

"How can I help you?" the female operator's voice asked.

"I was wondering . . . how much would it cost to make a long distance call from this phone?"

"What number would you like to dial?"

"771 555 8139"

"One moment please . . . two dollars and fifty cents for the first five minutes, then twenty five cents a minute after that. It's much cheaper if you use a calling card."

I stared at the pile of quarters in my hand. "I don't have one . . . can I use cash?"

"Certainly. Just deposit your change into the phone and I'll connect you."

I deposited what I had, figuring it was good for about ten minutes, which was all I was really after. I just wanted to hear his voice. Maybe then I could stop thinking about him, at least enough to enjoy my trip.

"Connecting you to 771 555 8139" she said as the phone began to ring.

I waited with guilty anticipation and my heart thumped when I heard the receiver being lifted on the other end.

"Hello?"

A woman? That was odd. I first thought the operator had made a mistake in dialing, but I'd just heard her repeat the number. My voice clinched.

"Hello?" she repeated followed by a familiar deep voice in the background. "I don't know," the woman said. "I can hear a crowd in the background, but they're not saying anything."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was about to hang up when I heard Jim come on the line.

"Hello?" he said, an irritated edge to his voice. "Is anybody there?"

"Jim . . . it's Anna."

The line was silent before he returned with a whisper. "Anna? Where are you?"

"I'm in Denver. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called. I was just thinking about you and sort of wanted to say hi . . .."

"Hold on."

His words became muffled like he was covering the phone, then after a minute I heard the extension in the study being lifted. "I've got it!" he yelled before returning to the line. "You there?"

My hand was almost shaking. "Did I call at a bad time?"

"No . . . well, I've got company, but that's alright. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," I said. He had a date. I had interrupted a date! This was crazy. I was feeling jealous that he had a date and just days before I was convinced that I didn't have any romantic feelings for him. "Well, if you've got company I'll let you go," I said quickly. "She doesn't want to be waiting while you talk to me."

"I told her it was a call about work and that I needed to take it. It's not a problem. So . . . how was your trip?"

"Who is she, Jim?" I asked, bypassing the small talk.

The line was quiet. "She's just a friend, Anna."

"A girlfriend?" I asked, trying hard to remain calm.

"No, a lady friend. Somebody I spend time with occasionally, that's all."

"Well, I'll just let you go."

"Anna, just slow down a second, will you?"

"Slow down! What's that supposed to mean? You didn't tell me about a girlfriend, Jim?"

"She's not my girlfriend, Anna. She's just a lady friend and I didn't tell you because you didn't ask. It's not like I lied to you."

"No, it's not like you lied to me, Jim, but it's sure convenient that you left out a few key facts before you slept with me!" I swallowed hard and tried to hold back the tears that I felt pushing forward.

"Anna . . .."

"Are you sleeping with her too, Jim?"

"Anna, I'm not getting into this. Do I need to remind you it was you that wanted to go to Denver, that it was me that wanted to see you again?"

"And it was YOU that gave me the big speech about how complicated the difference in our ages made things!" My voice started to crack. I knew I was being irrational, but I didn't care. "It doesn't matter. It wasn't meant to be . . .."

He was silent again. "Anna, are you saying you had a genuine interest in me, because that wasn't my impression? You know I wanted to see you again."

He had me on that one. During the last afternoon we shared I was sure our relationship was only physical, which did nothing to explain the piercing emptiness I was feeling now.

"Continue seeing me?" I said. "Me, and her, and how many others?"

"Anna, you know how I feel about you. I told you when you were here. Come back right now and I'll never see Elaine again. I'll call it off tonight."

The cold tears were running down my cheeks and I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. "I have to go," I said, digging through my purse for a tissue.

"Anna . . . just wait a minute, would you?"

"I don't have a minute, Jim. Our time is almost up."

"Don't say that."

"I only had enough change for a short phone call."

"Give me your number and I'll call you back."

I took a deep breath. "It's okay. I'll call you when I get back to Minnesota."

"Anna!"

"Good bye, Jim."

I returned the receiver to the wall and tried to compose myself. I felt more confusion than I'd ever felt in my life. Part of me felt closure and yet another part felt betrayed. But truthfully, Jim hadn't betrayed me any more than I had betrayed Trevor. After all, I had slept with his father, rationalizing it all to the rush associated with being a part of Jim's fantasy and the way he'd made me feel physically. I just wanted to wake up and discover that this had all been a bad dream. Todd the jerk was right when he said the best way to forget about Jim was to meet somebody else. I slammed back the wine and retreated to the ladies room to touch up my makeup, then back to the bar for another drink.

The band took a break and the dance floor started to empty out. I took my glass and headed for the table, hoping that Todd wouldn't be there, but resigning myself that he was better than being alone. As I turned around, I spotted the unique looking guys from earlier, leading to a double take when I saw Alija standing at their table. The cute one noticed me and they all turned in my direction. Alijia grinned and waved me over.

"Going back to the table," I mouthed, motioning with my glass.

She became more animated, frantically waving her arm in a signal for me to join them. Actually, it seemed like a reasonable solution to my problem. They had to be better than my other options.

"What's up?" I asked, stepping up to their table.

"Guys, this is Anna. Anna, this is Francois and Phillippe." She leaned into me and whispered, "They're cute aren't they?"

Both smiled, but didn't say anything.

"It's nice to meet you," I said, still wondering how Alijia knew them.

One reached out to shake my hand. When I responded he kissed the back of my fingers. A bit dramatic for a bar, but mildly charming all the same. It got even better when the other guy followed.

"Whoa, I don't think I've ever had a greeting quite like that," I said.

They both smiled broadly, but again said nothing. Interesting. Cute, but obviously not the greatest of conversationalists.

"So, are you guys just visiting, or do you live here?" I asked.

Again, big toothy grins and a couple of nods, but no words. The developing silence felt almost unbearable. I leaned in and whispered to Alijia. "It's obvious they're French . . . do they speak English?"

"Okay, I'll ask them," she said, giving me a wink.

"Ask them? You mean you don't already know?"

Alijia leaned in and whispered something into the one guy's ear. He smiled and seemed to get embarrassed, before whispering back to Alijia. She nodded adamantly, then looked at me.

"What did you say to him?" This secrecy was getting more than a little annoying.

Before I could ask any more questions Francois--not the cutest one, but still not bad looking--slid off his stool and moved towards me. I watched him approach until he was only a foot or so away. Gently he took my wineglass and rested it on the table.

"Uh, what are you doing?" I asked nervously.

I looked to Alijia for support, but all I saw was a mischievous grin. I turned back and Francois leaned into me with a smile. At first I wasn't sure what was happening, but within seconds it was clear; he was trying to kiss me.

I glanced again to Alijia who was watching me intently, waiting for my reaction. Normally I wouldn't have let this go further, but the wine I was drinking seemed to slow down every element of time and space, including my ability to react. Closer Francois leaned until I felt his lips brush across mine. My head was spinning and I was losing my breath. A vision of Jim with what's-her-name flashed through my mind. He sure wasn't thinking of me before I called. Why was I thinking of him now?

I leaned back slightly. Francois paused and watched me, the corners of his mouth arching into a curious grin as he waited to see what I would do next. I glanced to Alijia, watching on in obvious astonishment. For the first time that night I felt like I was the one in control.

"What the fuck, Alijia?" I said with a grin.

I put my hand on the back of Francois's neck and pulled his mouth into mine. He wasn't reluctant and seemed completely comfortable with kissing a stranger. We moved playfully for a moment as the hoots and hollers from Alijia's friends became louder. It was only seconds before I felt his tongue pressing between my lips. I opened my mouth and met him as we sank into a long, wet kiss that I never imagined having with somebody I had only met. It seemed to go on for minutes with him eventually moving into me, gently rubbing his hand down my ribs.

Things were getting a little too heated between us and I pulled away. We stood back from one another, both laughing and trying to contain our awkward excitement. He grinned and wiped the saliva from his lip.

I glanced down and spotted the obvious outline of his arousal pressing against his jeans.

Alijia was as red as I'd ever seen her, running over and hugging me. "I can't believe that!" she screamed in laughter. "I didn't think you'd go through with it."

"What did you say to him?" I looked at Francois, who was grinning from ear-to-ear. "Did she put you up to this?" I asked.

Again, he smiled, but said nothing. Alijia stepped between us.

"Look, I need to come clean," she said. "Francois and Phillippe are friends of mine over here on foreign exchange from France. I've helped them get settled, shown them the night spots."

Suddenly it all made sense. Alijia spoke fluent French. I looked in the guys' direction to confirm my suspicions. "English?" I said slowly. "Do you speak English?"

"English," he repeated from behind a thick accent. "Hmmmm . . . lit-tle bit," he said, making a supporting tiny gesture with his fingertips. "Not much."

Alijia stepped between us, laughing so hard that she was having problems breathing. After a few seconds she composed herself. "I was talking to them and they told me you were flirting with them earlier and they wanted to know your name."

"I wouldn't call it flirting," I said, thinking back to when we exchanged smiles across the dance floor.

"Yeah . . . right. I told them you wanted to know what it was like to get a French kiss from a Frenchman. To see if it was different than an American."

"Alijia, I swear I'm going to kill you."

She laughed even harder. "Oh, like you didn't enjoy it?"

~:~~:~

We invited the guys back to where we were sitting. I was happy to see that Toad had disappeared along with a couple of others, making enough room for us to rejoin the table and the conversation. I ended up on the side closest to the wall with Francois to my left and Phillippe to my right. A rather charming spot to be in if I had to pick.

I've never been a big drinker and wasn't totally sure what to expect from the wine I'd been consuming, but I liked the buzz I was feeling. It served as a distraction from everything that had happened, including the conversation with Jim. I felt more comfortable, more energetic, and even more sociable than I had earlier in the evening.

It was immediately obvious that Francois was the more outgoing of the two guys. While his English was indeed limited, he did his best to participate in the conversation. Phillippe, in contrast, stayed to himself. He seemed more reserved from the beginning, silently watching the crowd and sipping his beer. Possibly his English was weaker than his friend's was or maybe he felt like I did earlier and was wishing he could call it a night.

Francois kept leaning into me as he talked; smiling and rubbing shoulders, an obvious carryover from the kiss we'd shared earlier. I played along with his flirtations, but it was Phillippe that I was interested in. I wasn't sure if that was due to his aloofness or simply because he was so cute, but I definitely wanted to know him better. With the wine fueling my imagination, I began to strategize. I needed to bring Phillippe out of his shell, to let him know I found him sexy, but in a way that wouldn't hurt Francois's feelings. I played with a couple of ideas, including ignoring them both and remaining single for the evening, but the spirit of the alcohol got the better of me and I gave up on finding an easy solution. I needed to be direct . . ..

"So . . ." I said, leaning into Phillippe. "What part of France are you from?"

He seemed startled by my question. "Pardone?" he answered, his voice deep and his accent thick.

I glanced across the table and everybody was engaged in conversation, paying us little attention. I slipped my hand under the tablecloth and ran my palm along the inside of his leg in an unmistakable signal I knew he couldn't ignore. "What part of France are you from?" I repeated slowly, blushing as I stared into his brown eyes.

His mouth arched into a wicked grin and I rubbed a little higher up his thigh.

"We are from near Paris," he finally said, moving his leg closer to mine.

I nodded like I was interested, when all I could really think about was how strong he felt beneath my hand.

"I've never been to Europe, but once I went to--"

I'd intended to say Canada, but froze when I felt Francois's hand reach across from the other side and come to rest on my bare knee. Evidently he wasn't finished with our flirting and had chosen the same direct approach to let me know that I was using with Phillippe. Now I was stuck, my one hand suggestively stroking a guy on one side, while his friend came on to me from the other.

This could get complicated and I knew I had to think quickly. I could retract my advances with Phillippe, who had clearly received my message and was finally starting to warm up. Or, I could push Francois's hand away, sending off more mixed signals than a politician, especially considering the flirting we'd been engaged in and the round of tonsil hockey we'd finished less than an hour before.

Or . . . or, I could settle in and enjoy the attention.

"Another?" the waitress asked from the end of the table. It was a different girl. At some point the shift must have changed.

I looked at Phillippe and smiled as I slid my hand a little higher. "Yes," I answered. "White wine, please."

The waitress left and I pretended to watch the crowd as I shuffled slightly in my seat and uncrossed my legs. Francois took the hint and his hand moved higher, gently caressing the inside of my thigh. I'd dressed for a night of partying before I got on the plane, choosing what I thought was a reasonably sexy outfit with a short, gray pleated skirt and blue long sleeved top. The choice in attire was working to my advantage, with Francois's hand climbing higher and the sensation of skin-on-skin adding to the forbidden excitement. Phillippe, on my other side, leaned his leg harder into mine, an unmistakable signal that he wanted more.

This was crazy and I knew it, but I didn't care. I was having fun and, best of all, I hadn't thought about Jim since I'd sat down. In a way I'd never realized, this was proving to be my fantasy; to be seated between two handsome men, touching one as the other touched me. I didn't know how long the moment would last, but I was going to enjoy it for as long as it did.

Francois's hand climbed higher, his forearm pushing up my skirt, his fingers eventually brushing the outside of my panties. I swallowed hard, took a sharp breath, and moved my own hand higher up Phillippe's leg until I reached his crotch. His jeans were thick denim and it was difficult to gauge his arousal, but his facial expression made clear that he was enjoying the unfolding eroticism as much as I was.

Francois--on my other side--had upped the ante. I shuddered slightly as he worked his fingers back and forth. I tried to slide my legs further apart, but the room under the table was limited. I was so wet and so turned on that it almost hurt. His fingers were fighting to slide inside the elastic edge of my underpants, yet the confined space and my cramped seated position made it difficult. My one hand--still on top of the table--was gripping the wineglass so tight that my knuckles were turning white while my other hand squeezed harder against the bulge in Phillippe's jeans.

"Who had the white wine?" the waitress asked.

Francois jumped and pulled his hand from between my legs as I pulled my own from Phillippe's.

"That would be mine," I said, trying not to sound as flustered as I felt.

She delivered the last drink and disappeared as quickly as she'd arrived. I glanced at Francois and we exchanged knowing smiles. I was delirious with arousal and overflowing with nervous energy.

"You look like you're having more fun now," Alijia said from across the table.

I smiled. "Yeah, I am." If she only knew how much fun I was really having. "You are too," I said, making a subtle nod towards the guy seated next to her, the one she'd been hitting on for the last half-hour. She gave me a knowing arch of her eyebrow. She'd be getting lucky tonight, I was sure.

I took another big sip from my glass and noticed Mr. Macarana standing a few yards away. Evidently he hadn't slowed down on his drinking. He was hammered and standing on top of a table, his brightly colored Hawaiian shirt undone as he performed what looked like a really bad belly dancing impersonation. I needed to get everybody at the table distracted and he was about to help.

I leaned across to Alijia seated on the other side of the table. "You ever wonder if drunk people have any idea how ridiculous they look?" I asked, intentionally saying it loud enough so everybody at the table would hear.

She looked at me curiously, then turned around in her seat to watch Mr. Macarana. Just as I'd hoped, everybody turned with her. With their attentions away from me, I lifted my bottom from the bench and slid my panties down my thighs until they were nestled around my ankles. I sat up quickly, feeling the room heat up as I glanced around to see if anybody noticed my sudden movements. My breathing was hard and my heart pounded in my chest. I looked to my right and Francois was watching me.

Everybody at the table laughed and exchanged some jokes about the dancing fat man, then returned to their conversation. My secret was safe. I took another sip and slid my leg against Francois's. He seemed shy for a moment and it felt like minutes before his hand resumed the slow climb up my thigh. Higher he moved, a shiver washing through me the minute he touched my naked sex. I closed my eyes and bit my lip, trying not to scream as he teased at my wetness. Within seconds he was fucking me with his finger, one, trying for two, still hampered by the limited space under the table. I shuffled in torment as the movements of his hand speeded up, keeping time to the hypnotic pulse of the music that boomed from the dance floor. I bit my lip harder, certain that I was going to lose control at any moment. Phillippe--unaware of what was happening only inches away--leaned into me from the other side and whispered something I couldn't understand.

I stared straight ahead; unable to look at him, sure that the erotic tension of my expression would give away what was happening only inches away. He either saw something in my eyes, or was wondering why my hand hadn't returned to his thigh. Either way, the unthinkable happened. Like slow motion I watched Phillippe's hand set down his beer bottle and disappear under the tablecloth. Before I could react, I felt the rough edges of his fingers along the soft flesh of my other leg. He moved quickly and into a direct collision with the hand Francois had buried in my lap. I lost my breath, my eyes frozen.

Within nanoseconds, everybody's hands were back on top of the table.

I stared out to the dance floor feeling absolutely mortified and unable to speak. I searched frantically for some explanation, but there was none. They must have thought I was some kind of slut, coming onto both of them at the very same time.

"Are you okay?" Alijia asked.

"What?"

"Anna . . . you look like you're going to be sick."

The room seemed to be heating up and everything was closing in around me. I needed to get out of there. "Where's my purse," I said out loud, pretending to search under the table while I dragged my panties high enough to allow me to stand up.

I felt a nudge and turned to see Phillippe holding the leather bag, a look of jealous disappointment in his eyes. "Thanks," I said. "I'll be back in a little bit," I told Alijia.

I scooted back from the bench and stood up quickly. All the wine I'd drank finally caught up with me. I took my first step and the room began to spin like a carnival ride and I grabbed hold of the wall for support. Everybody turned towards me and Phillippe stood up quickly, taking my arm and helping to hold me up. Alijia followed quickly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her face etched with concern.

I looked briefly to the table and Francois was staring up at me, the same damn look of defeat on his face as I'd seen on Phillippe's. I felt awful, both physically and emotionally.

"The wine," I mumbled. "I need to go to the ladies room. Can you hand me my purse?"

"You've got your purse," Alijia said. "I'm going with you," she added, leading me by the arm.

We made it to the ladies' room and she waited while I splashed cold water on my face and touched up my make-up for the second time that evening. I told her I was calling it a night, but didn't say anything else. I'd tell her eventually, but right now I just needed to get out of there. It took a while to convince her that I wasn't offended or feeling left out. I just had a lot on my mind and was ready for some sleep. The truth was I couldn't go back to the table and face Francois and Phillippe.

"I'll just take a cab back to the lodge," I repeated. "Write down the address, would you?"

"Nonsense. I'll leave with you."

"Alijia, it's not a problem, honest. You're having fun. Stay here and enjoy yourself. I'll be fine tomorrow and we'll figure out what we're going to do with the rest of our vacation. Maybe a good shopping trip is what we need."

It was obvious she was struggling with what to do.

"Ali . . . I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure," I answered forcing a smile.

~:~~:~

I joined a crowd of people that were leaving the club and stepped outside. It was warmer than I thought it would be, with a dark mountain sky full of more stars than I ever saw in the city. I dug through my purse and pulled out my wallet. Shit. All that wine I'd drank had used up more cash than I realized and the rest of the spending money I had brought for the trip was back at the lodge in my suitcase.

I had about three dollars and some change, definitely not enough for the taxi. I could go back inside and ask Alijia for some money or wait for her to leave, but that would mean facing Francois and Phillippe. I did not want to do that. I remembered seeing a bank on the cab ride to the bar where I could use an ATM. I was pretty sure it was within walking distance. The trick now was to find it.

I started down the road, trying to remember the path the taxi had taken. I hadn't made it two blocks when I heard a car approaching from behind, the engine winding down as it slowed to a roll.

"Going my way, sweet thing?" I heard a male voice ask.

I turned and looked. "Oh . . . hi, Todd," I said without slowing my walk.

"Where's your new age friend?"

"Aljia? She's back at the lodge . . . I decided to leave early."

"I see," he said. The speed of their car was keeping perfect pace with my stride. "How bout' a ride?"

I turned and stooped slightly to see in the car. The driver wasn't nearly as pretty as Todd was. His hair looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks and he had a peach-fuzz goatee that looked like it had been pasted on for Halloween. "Nice skirt," he said, flashing me a tobacco-stained smile followed by a grunting laugh that sounded like that Beavis guy from the cartoon series.

I ignored him and heard Todd say, "Pull over."

The car lunged ahead and braked at the curb. Doors slammed and they both emerged, strutting up the sidewalk and blocking my path. I moved to one side to step around and they moved with me.

"Guys, I'm not in the mood for this, okay? It's already been a long night."

Todd blocked me again, his face moving within an inch of mine. The smell of hard liquor on his breath was unmistakable. "Long night, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, I told you . . . the best way to forget about an old boyfriend is to find somebody new. And best of all it's your lucky night. I didn't meet anybody either, so I'm still available."

His goober friend laughed encouragingly. It was an annoying cackle that sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard.

"Yeah . . . my lucky night," I said sarcastically, trying to step around his other side.

Todd grabbed hold of my arm and yanked me back to him. He stared down at me, the same cold gleam that I'd seen earlier. "Listen," he said with a phony, tight smile on his lips. "You're one stuck-up little bitch, you know that? You think you're too good for me? Is that it? I've had better than you, haven't I, Carl?"

"I don't know, Todd . . . she's pretty cute."

Suddenly I realized that their car was the only one I'd seen since I'd left the lodge. I'd made a left towards the bank when everybody else was turning right. The street felt absolutely deserted. "Let go of my arm, Todd!" I managed, jerking in an attempt to break free, but his grip was too tight.

I heard Beavis--or whatever his name was--say, "Kiss her Todd!"

Todd grinned and leaned his face towards mine. I turned my head and continued to struggle, which only made him squeeze my arms harder. "Go open the door, Carl," he finally said, a hard edge to his voice. "I think we need to give Annie a ride home. Then maybe she'll give us a ride."

"I don't need a ride. Look, just leave me alone!" I blurted. I was starting to panic. "Todd, you're hurting me!"

I was scared. Even if I broke free from his grip, there was no way I could outrun the two of them, not in the shoes I was wearing.

"Hurry up, Carl!" Todd said. "Before somebody comes."

Carl ran back to the car and opened the passenger door as Todd started to pull me after him.

"I swear to God I'm going to scream!" I shouted.

"Hurry up, Todd!" Carl shouted.

I heard an approaching engine and glanced back, but the distance between the approaching car and us was too far. Todd wrapped an arm around my lower back and guided me towards the car, giving the illusion to anybody driving by that we were a couple out for some evening stroll. I tried to pull away, but again his fingers dug into my ribcage as he leaned into me with his liquor breath.

"Take it easy . . . making a scene now will only make it worse for you later," he snarled.

I started to shake. If they got me inside that car it was over. I made one last attempt to break from his grip and he grabbed my arm, attempting to drag me the final distance to the car.

We were only a few feet from his door when the squeal of locking brakes filled the air. I turned and a pick-up truck skidded to a stop behind us, the doors flying open on rusty hinges. I could vaguely make out a sign that said 'Landscaping' with a phone number listed below the logo. Two figures emerged and marched towards us, their pace brisk and their body language screaming 'fight or flight'. The streetlight illuminated their face and I realized it was Francois and Phillippe.

Carl disappeared into the driver's seat and Todd let go of my arm. I could tell he was thinking about playing it tough, but with Carl behind the wheel and ready to flee, he didn't stand much of a chance.

"Another day, Annie," he smirked. He held up his middle finger and mouthed 'fuck you', then turned and made a cocky stroll towards the car. Beavis barely waited for Todd's door to close before he sped away leaving behind a cloud of black oily smoke.

The weight of the evening and everything that had happened finally caught up with me and I broke down in tears. I tried desperately to contain myself, but it was futile. I was never so glad to see anybody in my life as I was to see Francois and Phillippe pull up in that rickety old pick-up-truck. I was trembling as Francois stepped up. He put a reassuring hand on my arm and I buried my face in his shirt to avoid them seeing me cry.

"You are okay?" he asked, awkwardly patting my shoulder.

I nodded and stepped back, pushing the hair from my face and drying my eyes with the heel of my hand. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just glad you guys showed up when you did. My knights in shining armor."

They stared at me blankly. Once again my words weren't registering. "Thank you," I added, confident they would understand that.

They smiled together and nodded. "You are welcome," Phillippe responded, proud that we had communicated, if only for a moment. "Uh, you are going where?" he asked.

The look of concentration on his face as he pieced together his English sentences was cute. "I was trying to go home," I answered. "I ran out of money for a cab." Blank look. "Taxi?"

Francois picked up where I left off, pointing back to the dilapidated pick-up truck. "You want ride?" he asked. "To Alijia?"

"No, I was going home." I dug quickly through my purse for the piece of paper scrawled with her address.

He grinned and nodded in recognition that he knew where her house was. We climbed into the pick-up. It wasn't old, but had seen its share of wear and tear. The back was filled with a variety of tools and gardening equipment, a lawn mower, and some other big machinery that wasn't immediately familiar. I slid across the bench seat as Francois climbed in the driver's side and Phillippe the passenger's.

"Your truck?" I asked Francois.

"Is . . . how you say . . . for work."

The drive back to Alijia's house didn't take long, but also didn't seem the least bit familiar. There was no way I could have walked it myself. They were friendly and talkative along the way, turning on the radio and signaling for me to find something I wanted to listen to. It was obvious that they were doing their best to put me at ease. I was sure they had discussed what had happened under the table and every time I thought about it I wanted to disappear, but there was nothing I could do to change it now. The truck made a final series of turns, rolled up the secluded driveway, and came to rest in front of the cabin.

"Thanks, you guys, you were life savers."

They grinned and nodded.

I reached across and gave Francois a quick kiss on the cheek, then did the same for Phillippe. "I know you guys can't understand everything I'm saying, but I want you to know that I'm sorry for what happened back at the restaurant. I just got a little carried away sitting between two handsome men . . .."

I noticed Francois exchange glances with Phillippe, like for once they understood what I was saying.

"Well, I better get going."

Phillippe opened his door. I slid to the side and stared at the cabin. The windows were dark and the surrounding wooded area seemed deathly still. A wind surfaced, running through the branches of the trees, creaking and lending an eerie flavor to an already disturbing evening. The thought of entering that vacant structure, all alone, felt like living out a scene from one of those third-rate horror movies. I knew I was being silly and that there was nothing but an empty house waiting for me, but still. I jumped when the rusty hinge of the pick-up door squeaked as Phillippe climbed back in. I looked back and they were watching me, seeming to sense my hesitation.

"Do you guys . . . I mean, would you like to come in or anything? Until I get the lights on?"

No recognition.

"Come inside?" I repeated, pointing to both of them and then motioning to the door.

They exchanged more French, then Phillippe acknowledged me. "For little bit," he said, with a shy smile.

The inside of Alijia's Dad's cabin was small, but cozy. The walls were rustic giving a flavor like a log cabin. Alijia had mentioned that her Mother did all the decorating and she had done a wonderful job. Each room had a theme, with the living area being that of the Rocky Mountains. A large painting covered one wall surrounded by various souvenirs of the outdoors, including replicas of antique guns and smaller pictures of meadows and rainbow-colored sunsets. I raced frantically through each room, turning on every light and checking to ensure the place was empty. Satisfied that I had nothing to worry about, I returned to the living room. The guys were seated on the couch pretending to be interested in the magazines that were spread out on the coffee table.

"Something to drink?" I asked, making a supporting motion with my hand.

They both nodded. I retreated to the kitchen and searched the cupboards. Once again Alijia had been thinking ahead. There were two unopened bottles of white wine in the pantry. I reappeared in the doorway and held up the bottle for their approval. They nodded and I filled three glasses.

I returned and Phillippe was holding a teddy bear I had bought for Alijia. For as long as I had known her she had collected teddy bears and I had picked one up at the airport before I left Minnesota. She had already named him Mr. Paddington.

"Alijia's" I commented. "She collects them."

The usual blank stares.

"Hobby?" I repeated. "You know . . . she has lots of them?" Not a glimmer of recognition.

I sat the wine on the table, took the bear from Phillippe, and motioned for them to follow. I led them back to where I knew Alijia stored half of her stuffed animal collection. It had grown so large over the years that she had to split it up between homes. I think she secretly did that on purpose, as it gave her a sense of reassurance when she was staying with her Dad. I led the guys into the rear of the cabin and into the guest bedroom where one entire wall was lined with shelves displaying every plush character imaginable.

"See, he'll go here," I said, motioning to the shelves.

"Ahhhhh," Phillippe said. "Alijia's?" he added.

"Yes . . . they're all Alijia's."

Our situation was innocent enough, but all I could think about was the scene at the restaurant and the fact that we were alone in a bedroom. We lingered for a moment, none of us speaking, but nobody in any hurry to return to the living area. I looked at Francois. The look of lust in his eyes was unmistakable telling me I wasn't the only one with an overactive imagination. He said something to Phillippe.

"You know, guys," I said. "It makes me a little nervous when I can't understand you."

Phillippe took a step closer and pretended to examine the bear in my arms.

"So . . . do you want to watch TV or anything?"

I was short on breath and almost couldn't finish my sentence. Francois moved in from the other side. It was a cheap facade as they both pretended to be interested in Mr. Paddington, touching his clothes and squeezing his stuffed ears. But we all knew what was happening. The important question was how far would it go? How far was I willing to let it go? How far did I want it to go? In truth, I wasn't entirely sure; but factually, I had done nothing to slow their advances. From their perspective this was inevitable. They probably even thought that asking them inside and getting them back to this bedroom was all part of some master plan.

Phillippe's fingers left the bear and ran down my arm. He smiled, his hand traveling lower to my hip where he pinched and fondled the pleated material of my skirt, teasingly lifting it higher. I stood deathly still until his fingers reached underneath and brushed against by bare skin. He was measuring my response to his advances and I was failing the test.

"Maybe we should go back into the living room?" I said, my voice quivering.

Francois moved closer and began to touch me from the other side.

Part of me was insanely excited over what was unfolding and yet another was a little timid; frightened over the unknown of what I was getting into. One thing was certain; I needed to decide quickly. The further this went, the harder it would be to turn back and the more they'd think I had led them on. I was pretty sure they wouldn't force me into anything, but I'd known them for less than an evening. Still, something I couldn't explain told me I was safe. And something deep inside told me I wanted to see what might happen next . . ..

I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around their waists, pulling them close until the weight of their chests pressed against my shoulders. Francois moved my hair to the side kissed my neck, his warm breath sending ticklish shivers down my spine. Phillippe continued touching me under my skirt. I was sandwiched between them, their hands crossing boundaries that were off limits for any casual friendship. And yet I did nothing to stop them.

Francois stepped behind me and tugged on my sweater. I closed my eyes and lifted my arms overhead allowing him to remove my top. I hugged my chest as a wave of goose bumps washed over my exposed shoulders, my nipples hardening beneath my bra.

Phillippe moved to the front and lifted my skirt to my waist. We exchanged awkward smiles, both of us adapting as best we could to the intensity of what was unfolding, our eyes telling without saying. He sank into a kneeling position and looked up at me as he reached underneath my skirt and traced the inside of my thigh. Higher he climbed until his fingers grazed my panties, his eyes never leaving mine as if to ask--one last time--was this what I wanted?

Before I could answer, Francois stepped closer from behind, nibbling the back of my neck, the unmistakable ridge of his erection pressing against my bottom. He unlatched my bra and guided the straps down my shoulders as Phillippe began to take down my underpants.

It was getting difficult to remain calm and I started to lose my nerve. Things were moving too fast. There was still a part of me that wanted out of my clothes, to be nude, to have them ravish me. But I couldn't ignore the consequences or how I would feel tomorrow. My mother told me years before that it's a man's world when it comes to sex and, standing there, I had a premonition of what she meant. Tomorrow I'd be some kind of slut, the subject of some bathroom conversation. If it was a guy with two girls, he'd be a hero--but for me to live out a fantasy with two men would be considered sleazy.

I held my bra in place with one hand and grabbed the edge of the panties with the other.

"No," I said.

Phillippe looked up at me from below, startled and clearly confused.

I pulled the straps of my bra back onto my shoulders. "I can't go though with this. I'm sorry, guys . . . it's not you. It's hard to explain . . . it's just different . . .."

Francois whispered something from behind, the rough texture of his cheek brushing the back of my neck. I had no idea what he said, but was sure he meant it to be reassuring. And that's when I realized the beautiful irony. I was depriving my own desires for fear of what other people would think. But even if Francois and Phillippe wanted to tell everybody what happened between us--who would understand? Maybe Alijia, but she'd eventually hear it from me.

Phillippe looked up from his kneeling position, his brown eyes aching with frustrated desire. "It's okay . . .," he said. "We will stop."

With a deep breath for courage, I leaned down and grabbed the lapels of his shirt, guiding him up from the floor to face me. He stared into my eyes with an expression of bewilderment. I bit my lip and started to unbutton his shirt. He stood still as I worked each fastener loose, spreading and revealing his chest. He wore a silver pendant around his neck on a matching silver chain. His body was muscular, but not the icky bodybuilder type. More like a swimmer's physique with just a trace of body hair, a circle around each nipple. I ran my fingernails down his skin and along the prominent ridges of his flat stomach.

"A six pack," I said with a smile. "Does it get any better?"

He looked at me questioningly, still trying to understand my mixed signals.

"I want you," I whispered, using my eyes to tell him of my desire. I turned and looked back to Francois, who watched on with a mischievous grin. "I want you both," I added.

Francois helped me out of my bra and draped it across the same arm that held my sweater. He stepped behind me and unzipped my skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor with a muffled thud. A feeling of absolute liberation washed over me like a wave as I stood between them--Phillippe facing me and Francois moving in from behind. I felt sexy and incredibly feminine in their presence. I felt alive and--for the first time that night--far away from Jim. I wasn't sure how far this would go, but I was ready to find out.

I sank to my knees and instinctively they took a place on either side of me as I hugged each of their thighs, pulling them closer. Phillippe would be first. With trembling fingers, I went to work on his pants. I wanted to see him, to hold him, to taste him. I unbuckled his belt, unsnapped his jeans, and stared up into his brown eyes as I slowly lowered his zipper.

"Help me," I whispered, rubbing the bulge that pressed outward from his trousers.

This he understood and slid a hand into his underwear, eventually drawing out his beautiful cock. It was thick and warm and half-erect and I was wet just looking at him. He took a half step towards me until the swelling hood of his penis brushed against my lips. I smiled and moved my mouth from side to side, teasing, but not taking him as I heard the sound of Francois unfastening his trousers.

I gave Phillippe's cock a few sensuous tugs before turning and staring up at the other man who awaited my attentions. He licked his lips with anticipation, his chest heaving with anxious breaths. We exchanged smiles as he slid his hand inside his underwear and fished out his burgeoning member. I touched him and he began to harden immediately.

With a man in each hand, they moved closer, their swelling erections brushing against my cheeks. Two men, two luscious cocks, so deliciously close and mine for the taking. I was delirious with passion. I began with Phillippe, rubbing the hood of his erection against my face. He was already wet and a thin strand of come stretched from his swollen crown to my chin. I felt a hand on my shoulder, nudging me.

I turned and looked up at Francois. "Don't worry . . . I haven't forgotten you."

I returned to Phillippe and took him between my lips, delivering a smooth, wet ride along his shaft. I sank into him for three or four long strokes, pausing only when his legs began to tremble. He caressed my hair, moving his hips in rhythm and pulling me to him in a signal he wanted more, but I withdrew. It was too early to be playing favorites.

The forbidden eroticism of the situation was absolutely intoxicating. I shuffled on my knees to Francois and together we pulled down his pants. He was fully erect and his stiff cock brushed against my nose as I dragged his jeans to a mid-point on his thighs.

"Mmmm, you Frenchmen are blessed, aren't you?" I said with a giggle, staring at his thick erection.

Neither answered, with only the sounds of their heavy breathing filling the room. I stroked Francois's cock with one hand, reaching around and massaging his butt with the other. Just like his friend, he became wet almost immediately, my grip sliding effortlessly along his length. I took him, feeling a tremor flow through my body as his thick cock filled my mouth. I loved this. It was a sensation of erotic power, the salty taste of his arousal, the remnants of his cologne teasing my senses. He was hard like a wooden post as my lips pushed further downward. I sucked him with all I had to offer, wrapping my mouth tight around him and peeling slowly back until he popped free from my lips.

I stood up, out of breath, and hornier than I'd ever been in my life. I jumped onto the bed and patted the mattress on either side of me.

"First come . . . is first served," I said, giggling and blushing all at the same time.

With his pants still at half-mast, Francois stumbled towards me and almost fell down. All of us laughed as he frantically pulled up his trousers before they both approached the bed.

"Uh uh," I said, shaking my head and holding out my hand. "You need to get undressed first. And I get to watch."

They stared at one another and mumbled more French.

"Your pants . . . your shirt," I added, pointing with my fingers. "Take them off!"

Francois took a seat on the floor and slipped off his shoes, then stood up and lowered his pants, underwear and all. Phillippe sat on the edge of the bed and did the same, but left on his jet-black jockey briefs. They crawled onto the bed and nestled in on either side of me. Within seconds, their hands were all over my body. Phillippe leaned in and took my breast in his mouth, while Francois moved lower, delivering deep, wet kisses to my stomach.

"Guys," I gasped, already losing it. "Slowly . . .."

Phillippe's mouth became more aggressive against my breast, while his fingers pinched and teased my opposite nipple. I felt Francois pulling down on my panties. Everything was happening so fast. I was basking in the attention, but still not sure . . ..

"Hummmm . . . not yet," I gasped, struggling to pull up my panties.

My hesitance did nothing to slow either man down. Phillippe's face inched up my neck and he began to kiss me. Francois moved lower, running his mouth down the inside of my thigh. My kissing with Phillippe became more passionate, our tongues moving together as I allowed Francois to spread my legs, his mouth moving closer to my pussy.

"MMMMMM," I moaned between kisses the moment I felt his fingers tease me through my drenched underpants.

Francois sensed by dilemma. If I allowed my panties to come off, there was no turning back. But he could also tell how badly I wanted to be touched. He met me halfway, sliding the thin cotton to the side and burying his tongue into my wetness.

"Oh God!" I gasped, my head pressing back into the pillow.

Phillippe's mouth left my lips and moved down my neck, his hand roaming from breast to breast, squeezing and pulling.

Francois scooped up my thighs and laced them across his shoulders, dragging the panty strip to the side and devouring me from below. I was close to coming when I heard the material rip as he forcefully dragged aside the thin cotton layer, providing him the access we both craved. He stroked his tongue gingerly across my clit and I began to shake uncontrollably.

Phillippe was kissing me again, his mouth dropping again to my chest until I grappled for handfuls of his hair, his teeth tugging and scraping at my swollen nipples. I was lost, with no idea of what to do or how to respond. Pleasure and intensity raged through my body, the stimulation attacking me from every angle.

"Okay!" I finally gasped, pushing Phillippe off my chest and wiggling upwards towards the headboard.

Francois stared up at me from below, his lips shining with my arousal.

"Come here," I motioned. "It's your turn."

Francois crawled towards me and I pushed him onto his back. He was thick and incredibly hard. I went to work, trying to deliver the same pleasure he had given me. I watched him as I sucked; smiling and moaning in ways that conveyed my enjoyment. I pushed lower until he'd all but disappeared into my throat, then reeled back and plunged again. I could feel him twitching in my mouth, a sign he was close to coming. That I didn't want. I slowed down and started to get up, when I felt Phillippe move in from behind.

"You're wanting some too?" I said, looking back over my shoulder.

But it became clear that he wanted more. Phillippe grabbed my hips and lifted my bottom, shifting me into a position on all fours before rubbing his swollen erection up and down my behind. Going all the way still seemed too far, but the feeling of his stiff member riding against me felt too good to ignore. Before I could speak, Francois had pulled my head back to his cock. I licked him slowly to avoid getting him too excited.

"Okay, I can't take this anymore," I finally gasped.

I was ready to turn around and go down on Phillippe, but before I could move he had pulled my panties to the side.

"I don't do--" I gasped, thinking he might be heading for places I wanted no man to be.

But my breath evaporated before I could finish my sentence, his cock pushing against my pussy. He took hold of my hips and drove harder, his thickness forging a path inside me.

I had crossed over. Holding back now seemed meaningless. I opened my eyes and Francois was still on his back, staring up at me. He watched intently as Phillippe fucked me from behind. My body jerked with the motion, my hair dangling down and brushing the mattress. I tried to speak but the words didn't materialize. Francois watched us, stroking himself, his eyes locked with mine as the pace and force of Phillippe's thrusts became more intense.

"Let's lay down," I finally managed.

Phillippe didn't let up, but the all-fours position he had me in was proving to be uncomfortable. I reached back with a hand and made a faint, waving motion for him to slow down. He finally understood and eventually pulled out. I rolled onto my back and into a laying position next to Francois, as Phillippe hovered over me, his cock glistening with traces of my juices. I arched by bottom up off the mattress and pulled down my panties, kicking them to the side.

I held out my arms and spread my legs, ready for Philippe to take me, but before he could move, Francois reached across and rolled me on top of him. Unsure of how to respond, I inched up into a straddled position, glancing back at Phillippe for his reaction. The frown he wore confirmed that he wasn't finished with me, but Francois had taken control. I felt him trying to find alignment and lifted up.

With my hands on his chest, I sat backwards and we began to fuck. Phillippe was not to be left out and stood up on the mattress, stumbling slightly to regain his balance. He moved his cock within inches of my face and I wrapped my lips over his swollen hood. I remained as still as I could--Francois pumping into me from below--as Phillippe worked his hips back an forth, fucking my mouth from above. I opened my lips wider and his cocked entered further. I felt the building of my orgasm return as Francois pounded into me. It was getting difficult to remain still and Phillippe's erection kept falling from my lips. I pulled back and grabbed his hand.

"Lay down," I said, tugging on his arm.

He did as I asked, stretching out into a laying position next to Francois, then scooted up towards the headboard so I could lean across and reach his cock with my mouth. Their side-by-side laying positions provided the perfect alignment for Francois to fuck me while I sucked Phillippe. It was like we had all found the balance we'd longed for. Phillippe was engorged as I went down on him, while his friend grabbed my ass and pumped savagely into me from below, fucking me so hard I thought I might pass out. He began to gasp something incoherent. He was going to come. I tried to slow the pace, hoping he could last a little longer, as I was so close.

He grabbed my butt and rammed into me as my own orgasm finally broke through. Phillippe's hips bounced against the mattress, his cock jerking in and out of my mouth in short, quick jabs. The closest I'd gotten to letting a guy come in my mouth was Jim, but he hadn't finished. Truthfully, I wasn't sure I wanted it to happen now--not with a virtual stranger--and for a split second I considered pulling back. But that didn't seem natural, not with everything that had happened between the three of us. This had been a night of crossing over and this was just one more limit to overcome.

Francois gasped below me. He was coming. My own orgasm continued, rushing through my body like an electric current. My entire being shook as Francois delivered his final few movements from below. I pushed my mouth further down, taking as much of Phillippe's shaft as I could take until he finally screamed, releasing into my mouth. I stayed with him, fighting my need for air as the thick, hot liquid surged into my mouth until I opened my lips enough to allow his seed to flow downward and into a pool at the base of his shaft. I closed my eyes and let him finish until his wilting penis fell from my lips.

We rested; all of us silent; all of us exhausted. I was drifting asleep and forced myself awake long enough to pull on a robe and hustle the guys into getting dressed before Alijia arrived home. We exchanged one last kiss at the doorway before ending the evening. Again, it was ironic, as the kiss we'd shared was brief and noncommittal, more like an affection shared between good friends than three people that had just spent the night groping and fucking one another's brains out.

~:~~:~~

If on Saturday I discovered how much fun and liberating drinking could make me feel, Sunday I was reminded that everything had a price. I woke up about ten o'clock with a crushing headache and a thirst like I'd spent the last week in a barren desert. I stumbled out of bed, pulled on my robe, and brushed my teeth. As if the headache wasn't enough, I was sore down below from the working over that Francois and Phillippe had given me.

The stereo was on and I could hear the clamor of dishes in the kitchen. I entered the living room and found Alijia be-bopping around.

"Well, good morning sunshine!" she said with way too much energy.

"What is this?" I asked, nodding to the stereo.

"Tori Amos. You like?"

I picked up the plastic jewelcase. "Little Earthquakes? Never heard of it."

I moved over and dropped onto the sofa. "Tell me we've got some aspirin around here somewhere?"

"Not feeling well?" she snickered. "Did you pray at the porcelain temple this morning?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you hurl, my dear? You know, throw up?"

"No, but I've never felt this bad in my life."

"Sit tight. I've got just the thing."

I heard her moving from cabinet to cabinet like she had lived there all her life. She reappeared with a glass of something red in one hand and two yellow pills in the other. I accepted the concoction and--against my better judgement--decided to smell it before I drank up.

"Eckh . . . what is this?"

"Hair of the dog. Trust me on this one. I know it sounds crazy, but it's the only way you'll feel better."

With anybody else I would have argued, but Alijia undeniably had more experience in the party department than I did. Re-using a trick my grandmother had taught me when I used to take medicine, I pinched my nose and drank the entire mixture in one tilt of the glass.

"That . . . " I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. "If I hadn't puked before . . .."

"Lie back, relax, and let it go to work. You'll feel better in no time."

I did as I was told and within fifteen minutes my headache started to fade. I sat up and Alijia delivered another glass that I downed in the same quick fashion. Another fifteen minutes and I was feeling halfway normal.

She plopped into the chair across from me. "Guess what I did last night?"

"With that guy you were talking to?"

"Nah, I'm just teasing. He wanted to, but I wasn't into it. We just made out. So, what happened to you last night?" she asked with a sinister grin. "The guys came back to the lodge and said they gave you a ride home."

I opened my eyes and pushed the hair from my face. "What else did they say?"

"Truthfully?" she asked, pausing for effect then adding with disappointment, "Nothing. I grilled them too and they just said they'd taken you home. But that didn't explain why they were gone so long. Did you and Francois hit it off?"

"You could say that. You could say I hit it off with Phillippe too."

She looked puzzled. "I don't get it?"

I was about to tell her the whole story when the phone rang. She grinned mischievously. "I bet that's one of them calling right now." She reached across and picked up the receiver. "Bon Jour!" she said with a smile.

The expression on her face made it obvious that it wasn't Francois or Phillippe on the other end of the line.

"Uh, yeah she is . . . can I ask who's calling . . . sure, hold on a second." She covered the phone with her hand. "It's for you . . . it's some guy named Jim?"

My stomach dropped like I just made the plunge on a roller coaster. "Jim?"

"Yeah . . . he asked if he could speak to Anna. Seems too much of a coincidence. You want me to tell him you're not here?"

"No . . . I'll take it."

I reached for the phone and hesitated. "Hello?"

The deep voice was unmistakable. "Anna . . . it's Jim."

"How did you get this number?"

"Don't ask . . . it's not something I'm proud of."

"Seriously, how?"

"I looked through Trevor's phone book and found your home number, then called your parents on behalf of Trevor saying that one of your friends had been hurt in an accident and that I needed to get a hold of you to let you know."

I couldn't help but smile. "And they believed you?"

"I make my living in sales, Anna. So . . . are you okay?"

Our conversation from the night before rushed back. Somehow I didn't feel as angry. I wasn't sure if that was because of what I had done or if the sting of knowing that he was on a date had worn off.

"Yeah . . . I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm not so fine, especially after you hung up on me last night."

"I'm sorry I acted the way that I did. I just wasn't expecting somebody else to answer the phone and time ran out on my call. I didn't hang up on you," I said.

"You sounded upset . . . what was I supposed to think?"

I was silent. Alijia was sitting across from me, staring and hanging on my every word. "Listen . . . now's not really a good time to talk about this."

"Okay . . . then when? Do I need to buy a ticket and fly to Denver? If so, I'll do it tonight."

I smiled again. "Would you do that for me?"

"Say the word and it's done."

"No, Jim . . . I'll call you when I get back into town."

"So you're definitely coming back to Minnesota?"

"Of course I'm coming back to Minnesota. This was just a vacation. I start my new job in another two weeks, so I have to come back. I promise . . . I'll call you when I get back into town."

The phone wasn't back on the receiver before Alijia asked, "So, who is Jim?"

I thought about her question and everything that had happened in the last two weeks. "Ali . . . if I told you something . . . something really personal . . . would you promise me that you've never tell another living human being?"

She grinned in anticipation and moved the edge of her seat. "Cross my heart."

I took a deep breath. "You'll never believe the last two weeks . . ."

~~:~~:~~

Final Thoughts:

It takes weeks to produce a quality story and minutes to read the result. I'm fine with the trade-off, as my goal is to produce fiction that people enjoy, while improving my writing through practice.

If you enjoyed this story and would like to read more of my work, do me a favor and leave a healthy vote (9 or 10) for this story.

Another thing you can do is add me to your favorite authors list.

Doing either leads more people to read my stories, which keeps me motivated to write.

If you didn't enjoy the story enough to vote, or you gave it a lower vote, drop me a line and let me know what you didn't like. I'm always interested in better understanding reader tastes.

~Jack