Ambiguities

She was moving in quick spasms and speaking gibberish in quick giggles. Eventually, Fiona managed to babble. "OK... I'm OK... help me up... hiiii!!!" When Donald did so and saw the snowy furrow she had plowed, he caught on. Fiona was frantically raising her sweaters to remove snow from her neck, bosoms and chest while having fits of nervous laughter. "Cold! Cold! Help me, Donnie! Please!!!"

That was too much. Donald was torn between his scare of her being hurt, his embarrassment at standing in front of his technically-topless girlfriend in a public park and his worried search for the park police. Fiona threw snow at him to spur him to action. He snapped out of his reverie and helped her remove the wet snow and wipe away the freezing water from her porcelain skin. But Fiona was on another agenda: she raised his own sweaters and pulled him snuggly against her. Donald quietly winced at the freezing cold contact but was thrilled at hearing her sigh of relief.

"Now that's warmth I can use... thank you baby!" She was whispering, content.

"Don't thank me... I'm actually quite upset with you, young lady!" He sounded sincere.

"I know you are... that's why I'm begging for forgiveness..." Fiona had just turned her vamp factor on overdrive; her voice was sultry; she was gently squishing her breasts on Donald's chest and he could feel her nipples hardening on his warm skin. Then came a kiss of torrid passion that overpowered him completely. He just closed his eyes and surrendered his mouth to her tongue. Donald had already decided on a pardon but he never got a chance to announce his clemency, as Fiona was just getting started. Donald felt her tiny hand bore inside of his pants, searching for his stiff penis.

Donald was terrified... and excited to the extreme. "Fiona!!!" She just giggled with her fiendish grin and went down on his freed pillar. The contact of her warm, gorged, moist lips in this 14 degrees weather, coupled with the forgiven thrill of the act itself, completely conquered Donald. He even had to gently hold her head still, lest he would cum right then and there. He silently led her behind a small ridge, near the trail, bringing their skis to remain inconspicuous, and pushed her in the snow in order to raid her own crotch. Her outcry of surprise was the last sound heard before both began an intense and frosty 69 on the snowy ground.

Fiona's shaft was frozen stiff to begin with and became rock-hard in his mouth. "Now THAT's warmth I can REALLY use! Houuu, Donnie, baby... you make me so hot!" But Donald was a man possessed and, for his only response, he nudged his hard cock on her lips for her to swallow again. And Fiona was deliriously happy to comply. It was quick, but it was torrid... they actually melted snow! Fiona kept on lapping his shaft while feeling the tingling of the snow and the bliss of an orgasm all along her body. Donald hushed himself and channeled his ecstasy through his deep breathing and his mouth - he was devouring her sex, even biting it softly. He started moaning in synch with the buildup of his climax and Fiona increased her tempo and her suction in response. She was so thrilled out of her wits that she did not wait for his eruption to subside and kissed him on the spot, her mouth still full of his cum.

Donald was blushing deep-red, realizing the extent of their folly. "I love you so much... my irresistible nymphomaniac!"

She guffawed in response. "You can talk! You're so hot, you're impervious to snow!"

"Yea, yea yea... are you OK enough to ski back to the car?"

"I'm pretty sure... must we end the day so soon, though?"

"Well... we do have a set of dry clothes in our packsacks, so we could head up to the lodge instead and change, if you're up to it..."

"Pleaaaase... I would be so happy to ski some more. Everything is so wonderful when I'm with you." She had softened her voice and batted her eyelashes. Poor Donald had no free will to speak of.

"Fiona dear... I hope you will always be good to me... because you should know that your power is such that I cannot resist you, or refuse you anything!"

"I know, baby... and I love you all the more for it! I'll be good... always. We should go now... before I freeze and need your heat again!" Back was her wicked smile. "See?"

Donald sighed in mock despair. They walked back to the side of the trail, clipped on their skis and resumed their trek, nobody being the wiser about their snowy frolic.

---

"Home sweet home, darling..."

Donald and Fiona were returning from their first dinner with his folks in Bayonne. But all was not as good as it seemed and Fiona was surprised to see her paramour dash beside her to the kitchen and grab a pitcher of concentrated peach juice that had been sitting in the refrigerator all week.

"Donnie?"

Donald drank a glass straight up and sat down, his lips pursed as if he was chiding himself.

"Donnie, sweetie... what's wrong? Talk to me!"

Donald was settling down and picked up his blood glucose kit. He answered while doing what he had done all his life. "It's going to be OK, darling... sorry for the scare. In truth, I'm mad at myself for being macho and staying at the wheel... plus I realize we never did discuss... you know... my own health care issues."

"Huh? Donnie... are you going to be all right?"

Donald looked up his small screen and was visibly surprised by what he saw. He was preparing a Novorapid injection when he answered again. "Yes I will be. But, unfortunately, tonight I'm not going to be much fun."

"I don't care about that! What just happened!?!" She was visibly very worried, so Donald avoided any banter or morbid humor.

"Tonight I had a glucose imbalance. What I should have done was hand you over the wheel and take one of my emergency sucrose candy, instead of toughing it until we made it home. Anyway, I'm glucose-high tonight, so now I'm injecting a little bonus dose of fast-acting insulin. I will be alright, but odds are I will be shivering with cold, very thirsty and dead tired for a while... I'm sorry, baby."

"Stop it! But... Donnie... if your sugar was high, why did you drink that juice? Didn't that just make it worse?"

"Because by then I was very woozy... and that's what we need to talk about. Fiona, my love, if you ever see me very week, grouchy, sweaty or shivering... and you see I'm unable to help myself, always give me some of the emergency juice. There will be always be a fresh pitcher in the fridge. OK?"

"Well... yes, sure... but I don't understand... shouldn't you check your sugar level before?"

"Fiona, if I'm unable to tend to myself, we're not talking about a normal situation, we're talking about pragmatic first response. You see, too much blood glucose cannot kill me, while not enough can..."

Fiona gasped in sheer terror and took his hand. Donald regretted his impromptu lesson.

"I'm sorry for the drama... I'm doing this all wrong. Look, if you do this, you have one chance in two of saving me from a diabetic coma, which is great... or you might knock me out... but even then I would still be alive and stable enough to wait for emergency services. In a sense, you cannot fail."

"What about the candy you have on you? Shouldn't I give you that?"

"If we're out of the house, of course... but juice is easier to swallow."

"Got it... now come to bed! We're turning in early tonight."

Donald was in no condition to argue. "Aye aye, skipper."

Donald's heart was turned to jelly. Not that he doubted Fiona's love for him... but the way she tended to him and watched over his recovery, she looked like she was he one almost six years his senior, and not the other way around. He was all tucked in and the shivers he expected had started. She was sitting at his side, on the bed, gently patting his brown hair. Donald cooed. "Thank you, baby... this feels very nice. You didn't need to give me an extra reason to love you, you know?"

"Please, Donnie... no humor while I worry... are you sure you're going to be alright?"

"100% sure, Fiona... I've been through this many times before; still, it's wonderful to have you near me..."

"Sshhht..." she wanted to change the subject. "So... some day, huh?"

"Well... considering some City Council in Togo praised my infrastructure financial model and that my dad called you a dish even though baseball season is still months away, I consider this day an undisputable triumph."

"I love you so much, Donnie... you're really going to be fine?"

"Yes... and I don't mind spending all night reassuring you if that's what you need... I love you too, Fiona... with all my heart and soul."

Just like that, out of nowhere, her sultry smile appeared. And her hand was now slithering towards his crotch. "In that case, why don't I check out if all that extra blood sugar will make your cum taste sweeter, hmmm?"

By the time Donald, flabbergasted, could join in her banter and muster a response, his hardening penis had already disappeared inside her mouth. "Well... you know the saying... you are what you eat!"

4. Proof of love

That blissful domestic honeymoon of theirs lasted for a little more than a heavenly week. It ended abruptly on a Tuesday evening. That day, March 6th 2018, will forever be remembered, to both of them, as their day of reckoning.

Fiona sounded visibly upset when she called Donald at work. "Hey, honey! Is everything OK at home?"

"Hi, Donnie... I just came home from work... and... huh... no, I'm not feeling too good. Look, I just wanted to know if you were working late tonight... we need to talk."

"I'll be on my way in five minutes. Just wait for me, OK? I'm coming... I love you..."

"I love you too... I'll be here." There was something in her voice that reminded him of 2012 instantly. And he was sure she was about to cry when she hung up. The 50 minutes return trip seemed like 50 years tonight. Donald ran the final leg of the trip and made it home shortly after 5h45 PM.

But Donald would have to wait a little longer as Fiona insisted on pouring him a beer and making sure he was comfortable in the living room before beginning what she thought was going to be their farewell heart-to-heart.

"Donnie, someone came to the store today... for a bra fitting. Somebody special from my past."

Donald stayed silent... but he flinched.

"Her name is Lydia. She has been my on-again, off-again girlfriend for the last two years... in fact, she was my first... oh Donnie, I'm so sorry!"

"Why? What happened?"

"Nothing... yet... but I want to, Donnie... I want her!" At that point, she lost it and sobbed profusely. Donald handed her a tissue, completely lost as to what to do. His only certainty is that he would deal with his broken heart later.

"So... I gather this is not a case of watching the menu?"

"Whaaat?"

"It was an expression used by a married colleague of mine when he was ogling lady clients or waitresses and see me disapprove... he said he would watch the menu but order nothing. I can't believe I find a use for this..."

This somehow unleashed all her angst, bordering on fury. "And you think this is helping!!! How about the lurid images of me licking her pussy while she sits on my face... or of the way she rubs our clits together until we howl like wolves at the moonlight maybe? Would that help too, huh!?! How do you think I feel, Donnie? I love you, you dolt! Here, with you, I'm accepted, I'm safe, I'm cared for... and I'm gonna give it all up because I can't resist an urge to eat the pussy of a bitch that I otherwise can't stand!!! What kind of fucked up human being does that make me, Donnie!?! Huh? Tell me!!!"

She had crumbled on his shoulder and now cried non-stop; and Donald let her. To let it all out, for one thing... to gather his thoughts, for another; he was devastated... but also strangely thrilled. He knew her question, at that moment, equally applied to both of them. But she needed him now, so he made up his mind in an instant... his heart would just have to follow suit.

"It makes you my ambiguous woman, like you always warned me about... and you're not giving anything up tonight."

"Huh? Are you crazy? Or expecting a threesome, maybe... you, mister monogamy and fidelity!?!" Her humor was making its way back. Excellent.

"Threesome? No... especially not with a woman who is pitching specifically for you! And, believe me, I am as ambiguous about this situation as you must be, maybe even more. So this is what I am 100% sure of. Fiona, I love you and I have sworn to never let you go; no... pussy urge... is changing that one bit. I am also sure that we are in this together, so we will rise to the challenge and find a solution."

"Lofty words... how can you be so sure?"

"Because we are talking about it right now. Fiona, the way I've been racking up the hours on the Togo project lately, you could have easily cheated. I'm so mesmerized by you, odds are I would have never suspected a thing. Also, the way you remained guarded about our future, I realize now that you've probably always feared this might come to pass. So, now that it has, what else can I do? You told me I saved your life once; you found me against all odds; you make me happy and you even make me feel proud of myself as a man. Fiona Robinson, you will not be the one got away, came back and got away again. Even if it means... sharing... or whatever has to be done to..." he couldn't go on. His heart was balking and they were now both crying... together.

Donald felt a twinge of real pain from the strength of her hug. He took it all in. She was tightening her vise even more while sniffling herself back to almost normal. "OK, Donnie... let's talk it through... no holds barred... and I love you too."

---

The solution they found was implemented on the next Friday and Donald was on the phone with Fiona, listening to her with some difficulty under the hubbub of the Pyramid Club. He recognized Let's Go Crazy... which he found strangely appropriate. "Will you be ready, honey? Officially, we're now having a fight about you standing me up for our one month anniversary... so... happy anniversary, Donnie!"

"Happy anniversary, baby... though I'm anxious to wish it to you in person. How is it going on your end?"

"Are you doubting Moi? The horny slut already took advantage of my last water break to slip her hand in my bra and palm one of my diddies... we'll be home in no time! Remember, now... use a text when we're done with round one... or round two if you like it... and stay in the closet until I come get you... OK?"

"Don't worry... I'm all set for you guys... I love you, whatever happens, OK? Come on, now... the show must go on... make it sound good." He braced for the worst.

"BASTARD!!! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOUUU!!!" And she hung up on him.

Donald then promptly installed, in his bedroom closet, one of the folding chairs he keeps for visitors. Afterwards, he first made sure the sliding door opening would give him a good view; secondly, he went to the bathroom because, after all, he could be in the closet for some time. When all was ready, he dimmed the lights and made himself comfortable, waiting for them with his eyes closed.

Was it long? Does it matter? Some noise in the doorway stirred Donald awake and his senses were now all set on hypersensitive. He even held his breath. The sound he was hearing was unmistakably kissing... powerful kissing, judging by the thuds on the wall. He finally heard the door close as if it was an afterthought. At long last, Donald heard Fiona speak softly, in a guilty voice. "Well, Lydia... welcome to my home. Do you want a drink?"

"The only thing my lips are drinking tonight is you..." so, that was her voice. It was deeper than hers, and definitely sultry... that woman was really into her.

"That's my girl! Come this way, then... to our bed..."

"I don't need that to enjoy you..."

"But tonight, I do... please."

"Ha! I get it! I'm replacing that wuss of a husband of yours! OK girl, I can play!" Donald pictured an African-American woman and held his breath once again, as he heard footsteps coming his way.

He finally saw them together for the first time and was shocked. They were stripping each other down on their way to the bed, lip-locked and moaning. Lydia was indeed African-American, a tall and stunning woman, all sculpted and toned, especially her legs. She could easily be a fashion model... which made her almost a foot taller than Fiona, who was keeping her shoes on and was seemingly hanging on her neck for support.

When they made it on the bed, both briefly chewed each other up with abandon, letting their hands getting reacquainted with past curvatures and textures. Fiona was the first to ask. "Make me feel good, mistress, please!"

"You always knew how to sweet-talk me into anything... you charming slut! All right, I know what to do to make you feel good... forget that no-good bum of yours and enjoy my gifts!"

Lydia started a gentle tongue massage of Fiona's diddies. She did not press, or grope or maul... she just held her breasts gently between her hands and seemed intent on wetting all of their fleshy real estate.

"Houuu, yea, mistress... you always know how to make me feel good, not like my barbarian who's always so rough with them... thank you... thank you!"

"Thank you nothing, you sealed cunt! There will be payment later!" Her mouth went back to work on her mounds.

"Of course, mistress... I had the special in mind..."

"The way I feel tonight... you better make it the double special!"

"Houuu, I like my mistress' dirty mind... the double special it is!"

Donald was all over the place in his closet. For one thing, having a live cuckold porn show was as thrilling as some dark part of his soul pictured it every time Fiona spoke about her ambiguity. His penis was twitching in mid-air and, without touching it, Donald could feel the free flow of precum. However, the domination routine was hurting him like a needle prickling at his heart. Lastly... he was ashamed of himself and the loneliest man in the universe. Where he really wanted to be was with her... out there. And each one of her mounting cries of passion were calling him a failure. He frequently moved away from the door opening, unable to watch.

But a huge shout from Fiona did lure him back to peek. Donald was paralyzed and felt the air still in his throat. Lydia was astride over Fiona's penis and riding her clit on it, in a slow-motion cowgirl style. Shame or not, Donald was transfixed by the eroticism both of them exuded. And Lydia was making Fiona climax in no time. Donald hid away in the closet and wiped tears from his eyes.

"Oh mistress Lydia... please sit on my face... an entree before the double special... please... I have been dreaming about your pussy on my face for months now!" The echo of their past conversation now really hit home and Donald regretted not having any tissues with him. He was excited, rock-hard and absolutely miserable; he would rather touch composting manure than relieve his erection.

And yet he watched. His beloved was lapping the folds of Lydia's pussy to such good effect that her dominatrix facade was shattering. "Yeaa! YEAAA! Come on, you slut! Make me cum and put that tongue of yours to real good use... I bet your so-called man has a noodle, huh? HAAA! You'll pay for that, you bitch! Do you like that? HUH? Bitch! Isn't that what you always call me when you tire of me? The BIG B! Huh?"

Donald smiled weakly for the first time, finally understanding the on-again off-again nature of their past relationship.

(Good for you, Fiona!)

"That's why I'm so busy lapping your honey instead of begging for forgiveness, mistress..." and again her mouth was all over her wet slit. That was another direct hit that made Donald recoil. He cringed on his seat while hearing the savage roars of Lydia climaxing. Donald could practically guess the sight of her juices dripping on Fiona's gorged lips and he felt dizzy. He briefly looked at the time.