Fun Times and Threesomes

Mick snorted with laughter at that. "Cheeky shit."

"I'm generally awesome, in a low-key, humble-brag kind of way," I read on. "Seeking a lady of similar qualities, for chats and hangs and maybe bangs."

Mick laughed again. "That's really quite clever, isn't it? He must get heaps of chicks with all of that," he reckoned. "Especially given all the other dumb shits on Tinder round here."

"I can't believe he's back on Tinder, though!" I exclaimed. "His falling-out with Lizzie wasn't all that long ago."

"Guess he's got the itch. Though you reckon he'd have learned by now," Mick went on, "considering the last chick he bagged on Tinder fell pregnant only a couple months later."

I threw a pillow at his head, in defence of my baby sister's honour. "Arsehole," I called him.

"Guilty as charged. Hey," Mick added, as a troubling possibility occurred. "If we can see him on Tinder, does that mean he can see us?"

I felt my face go pale at the very thought of Brett discovering Mick and I, seeking a threesome on Tinder. "It absolutely does," I realised. "Oh shit, Mick."

"He might not have seen us yet," Mick postulated. "We could delete our profile..."

"Or he might have seen us already," I said. "It might be too late! We need to talk to him."

Mick paused for a second, and I saw his tell-tale eyebrow rise slightly. "Reckon he might have swiped right on us?" he ventured.

My jaw dropped at the very idea. "No way," I was sure.

"He might have."

My jaw remained low. "Would you..." I began. "Do you think... I mean, us, with Brett? Lizzie's Brett?"

"Well, objectively, he ticks a lot of boxes," Mick began.

I boggled a little at him, before I had to confess: "I'd thought those exact same words just one minute ago."

Mick's spirits lifted visibly as I said it. "Really? Wow!" he crowed. "He does tick all the boxes though, doesn't he? He's definitely respectful. And clean."

"And good looking," I threw in. "Very much so."

Mick grinned at me. "You were already a little sweet on him, weren't you? Even before all of this talk of threesomes and Tinder? Hmm?"

"Maybe," I allowed, attempting to sound offhand and dismissive but fairly sure my face gave me away.

"Hah, that's awesome babe! Young Brett, eh?"

"Can you blame me?" I shrugged.

Mick smiled with the greatest of amusement at my extra-marital crush. "But I mean, we already know him really well," he went on. "And like I said, objectively, he seems like a great candidate. But then there's all that back-story between him and Lizzie."

"Exactly," I nodded. "What do you reckon? Should I swipe left?"

"No no, don't rush into anything," Mick said hurriedly -- God love him, he was so keen on his idea of sharing me in a threesome that he really wanted to be sure before taking any action either way on Brett. "It's been what, two weeks? Three, since we joined Tinder? And Brett's the very first bloke we've seen who might be even remotely suitable."

"If it weren't for Lizzie he'd be a shoo-in," I agreed.

Mick thought on it for a few long seconds. "Look," he said. "What can it hurt -- let's swipe right, hey? At least that way we'll find out if he's found us yet, and if he's maybe interested in us."

"And if he hasn't found us yet, if we swipe right and we haven't matched?" I asked. "Should we delete our profile before he can find it?"

Mick thought on it again. "Maybe we should," he allowed, sounding defeated. "Maybe we should take it as a sign that Tinder is not the way to go about this. Maybe we might even have to rethink the whole thing," he added, looking and sounding gloomier by the second.

I felt for him, and clutched his hand in mine even as I held on preciously to my smartphone with the other -- the phone showing Brett's ever-grinning, handsome visage. I wanted this -- I wanted this for Mick, just as much for myself. It was Mick's project, his idea, and it had made a lot of sense when we first came up with it. To give up on Tinder, and possibly on the whole idea of an open relationship, seemed like such a shame that I found myself hoping, almost praying that upon swiping right, we'd find a match with Brett. I didn't want to give up on this.

And I really didn't want to give up on Brett.

"Ready?" I said.

Mick nodded. I braced myself, and swiped...

And my phone dinged instantly.

"We've matched!" Mick crowed. "He swiped right on us first!"

"He found us first," I pointed out again. "Mick: he knows our secret. Brett knows we're seeking a ménage a trois!"

Mick blinked, and even as the implications began to sink in, the app chimed. We had a new message.

*~*~*

CHAPTER FOUR

*~*~*

The message was, of course, from Brett: "Ha ha," he wrote. "Well this is awkward!"

"Oh my God," I breathed. "Mick: what do I say?"

"You're the one who's good with words, hon," Mick demurred, hands raised as though to ward off any responsibility.

"This was all your idea!" I hissed at him.

"Yeah, but I don't want to stuff it up!" he returned. "Plus, Brett's a really good friend. I don't want to stuff that up either."

"Neither do I!" I railed. "Shit Mick. What have you got us into now?"

Mick couldn't help but grin at me as I teetered on the edge of an anxiety attack. "You'll do fine, Mrs Valentine," he assured me, leaning down to kiss me calmingly on the forehead. "I believe in you. And I trust you, absolutely."

Mick's words did have a calming effect, and as I simmered down I had an idea how to approach this wholly new and unfamiliar situation. "Hey there Brett," I typed, as Mick read over my shoulder. "So you swiped right on us, eh?"

"Guilty as charged," Brett wrote back in reply. "I was mostly curious as to whether you guys would swipe right on me."

"Yeah, well that's mostly why we swiped right on you too," I returned.

"Clever," Mick approved. "Playing it low-key. I like it."

"So there you go," Brett wrote. "Looking into threesomes, hmm? Never would have suspected you guys of such a thing!"

"Who, sweet and innocent Mr and Mrs Valentine?" I wrote, grinning as I typed it out.

"Exactly. Though I've always been suspicious of the most innocent-seeming ones," Brett taunted us. "Definitely an act, covering up all sorts of wild and wicked goings-on behind closed doors."

"No comment," I returned, with a cheeky :-P to hint that his suspicions may not have been too far from the mark.

"Look at you two with your flirting," Mick teased me.

"Technically, all three of us are flirting," I reminded him. "You're the one who wants to put him on the other end of our proposed spit-roast, remember?"

Mick laughed heartily at that. "Well I don't hear you objecting too loudly," he fired back at me, with a growl as he moved towards me, his shorts tenting threateningly.

"Really?" I pretend-sighed as he started mauling me. "I'm trying to flirt with this guy, and you wanna get rowdy?"

"Your flirting is making me rowdy."

I made a show of rolling my eyes, even as I settled back and let him have his fun. "Just don't get in the way of my texting," I warned him.

"Wouldn't dream of it!" he murmured as he nuzzled my breasts through my nightshirt.

"So how's the hunt going?" Brett had asked of us when I next checked the screen. "Any potential candidates for a third dance partner?"

"None up til now," I told him, hoping that sounded open-ended as to whether or not he may be under consideration. "Tinder seems to mostly be a breeding ground for scumbags and shitheads."

"I can only imagine," he commiserated. "I've heard many horror stories from ladies trying their luck on Tinder."

"We were on the verge of giving up," I confessed, sighing involuntarily as Mick lifted my nightshirt -- I seldom wore knickers to bed, and he had unfettered access to my moistening sex as his kisses landed below my waistline. "Poor Mick was beside himself."

"So Mick's good and keen on the concept, then?"

"It was his idea!" I wrote, even as Mick tongued my clit -- soft, fleeting, only barely brushing against it, which drove me all the madder with pleasure. "He's quite keen to see me being pleasured by another guy. And even to open our relationship up and see other people, too."

"Really? Wow," Brett wrote, though I had to battle to focus on his words as Mick's incessant tonguing worked me into a hot lather. "That's quite wonderful, actually. It really speaks to how much Mick loves you -- how much you both must love each other -- given that you trust each other enough to see other people and still come on back to each other."

'He gets it!' I realised triumphantly; I moaned, brought about not only by the way Mick's tongue swirled figures-of-eight over and across my budding clit, but also at my mounting excitement at the idea of Brett maybe one day doing exactly the same to me...

"You're the first guy we've spoken to who gets it," I told him, my fingers flying across the screen in typing as Mick seemed determined to make me come inside of two minutes, working me hard and mercilessly. "So many guys just go and call me 'a good little girl' or even a slut, for wanting to do what we want to do. But you get it."

"For sure," Brett replied, as Mick entered the home stretch -- he started tongue-fucking me now, seeking out the hottest and sweetest of my juices high up in my snatch even as he worked a finger in to rub at my clit. "Absolutely no judgement here from me," Brett wrote on. "I reckon it's fantastic! And I appreciate you letting me in on the secret. Gives me quite the thrill," he added, with a suggestive ;-) on the end to suggest exactly where the thrill was being felt.

I was very close to coming now. Mick knew what he was doing -- here I was, finally speaking with a nice and attractive guy on Tinder about fun times and threesomes, and Mick simply had to drive me beyond distraction with his exquisitely-honed skills at cunnilingus. "Damn you, Mick!" I gasped and growled in the direction of my pelvis.

Mick giggled, deep and manly in reply, the vibrations nearly making me swoon.

I was so turned on that I was going to have to put the phone down. And I also wanted -- needed -- to throw caution to the wind with Brett. I wanted him to know who he was dealing with now; he and I had known each other nearly three years, and our interactions had of course always and only been extremely vanilla and milque-toast.

No more Plain-Jane Mrs Valentine. No more, and never again:

"Brett I'm sorry but I have to put the phone down awhile," I informed him. "Mick's going down on me. He's eating out my pussy Brett and I'm just about ready to explode!"

I held onto the phone -- and my orgasm -- just long enough to read Brett's reply: "Whoa. Go Valentines!"

And I came. I came hard. My hips flew up into the air as Mick lifted my lower torso bodily off the bed, he worked at and worried my nethers with his lips and his tongue and I came, I cried out, I yelled and I screamed as I came, coming all the harder in knowing that Brett knew what we were doing, knowing that Brett was surely imagining all of this in his mind's eye, knowing that Brett almost certainly had a hard-on at the idea and the image of me naked and hot and hollering with Mick's mouth clamped down on my cunt and working me mercilessly...

I came for an age until Mick let me wind down, he finally eased off with his ministrations and I very gradually descended from the sweetest high I had experienced for a long while. "Oh Mick," I moaned once I had regained the power of speech, and I moved down to meet his face for a kiss, lapping up my own pussy juices as I did so -- something I very rarely did, only when I was at my utmost in horniness.

Mick knew as much, and he growled again to show his appreciation for it. His cock was hard and he let me know it, his shorts having disappeared sometime during his oral ministrations -- he pressed his cock against me and I was hungry for it, greedy for it, I fell down to suck hard on him for a few minutes until he could wait no longer and he took me, he turned me around and fucked me hard, doggy-style -- again, something we only engage in when I'm in a very special, slutty mood -- and after what may have been five minutes or an hour I had already come twice when Mick finally filled me with wave after wave of his hot, thick, wonderfully satisfying come.

We eventually found ourselves laying together, basking in an extra-special afterglow. Callie, I tell you: it was wonderful to feel that way again, it had been so long since Mick and I had been possessed of the energy and inspiration to suck and fuck each other like that. We both knew what -- and who -- had inspired it, and we each read through our interaction with Brett on Tinder, what we wrote to each other even as Mick had been going down on me.

"Well guys," Brett had written after I had confessed to him that Mick had been eating me out while we chatted, "I'm afraid I've got to turn in for the evening. Fantastic stuff though, catching you guys on here -- and to have earned this new view into your lives, to have shared in what you've been so awesome to share with me tonight... thank you Mr and Mrs Valentine, thanks to you both. Hope you're both giving each other a good what-for! Catch up with you again soon."

"A good what-for," Mick quoted, laughing. "Well we certainly did that, and then some!"

"That was awesome, Mick," I had to agree. "And to share it with him -- even to just tell him about it..."

"Wasn't that hot?" Mick grinned. "This really is fantastic, babe. I'm so glad we're doing this. I'm so glad we found him!"

"You know, though," I said, as I read through our message trail again. "You, me and Brett -- it's not actually a guaranteed thing yet."

"It's not locked in?" said Mick, frowning with confusion.

"Read our messages -- neither he nor we have actually said anything along the lines of 'yep, let's absolutely meet up and fuck all of our brains out!'"

Mick did read the messages again. "Cheeky bugger," he said. "There's a threesome on the table, and he hasn't even gone and asked for it! What a time to be playing hard-to-get," he reckoned, shaking his head with disbelief.

"Well now, that might not necessarily be the case," I averred, thinking hard on each line we wrote and the potential meanings of each turn of phrase. "I mean, see how both he and I wrote that we 'mostly' only swept right out of curiosity? That leaves a lot hanging and unsaid, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Mick reckoned as we looked at the screen. "But see here, how he asked if we'd found anyone and you went and said 'none up til now'? I reckon that's a pretty big old hint right there."

"Maybe," I mused. "Though if we look at it from his perspective, he might not see enough in it to take it as a green light. It is still a little ambiguous."

"He might be playing it safe," Mick went on, following my line of thought. "He would value our friendship at least as much as we do -- he might be worried about stepping over the line himself, if he's not a hundred per cent sure that we're sizing him up as a partner."

"That's right," I nodded. "Or he might just be a wicked flirt."

"The truth probably lies somewhere in the middle," Mick grinned. "I can't wait to see how this goes, Jamie. Make sure you send me heaps of screen shots when you catch up with him again tomorrow!"

*~*~*

CHAPTER FIVE

*~*~*

I got back in touch with Brett again the next day. We abandoned Tinder for plain old Messenger, which inspired me to ask him: "So how about yourself? How long have you been back on Tinder?"

"A week or two," Brett replied. "About the same length of time as you guys, from what you've said."

"Did you have any luck in hunting your own bit of tail?"

"A gentleman never tells..." he teased me.

"Oh come on! Let me live vicariously through your many conquests."

"Lol -- no conquests to brag of," he assured me. "Very frustrating."

"Seriously?" I probed. "You realise your profile stands head-and-shoulders above all the other dumb shirtless gym-junkie car braggards, right?"

"It's very kind of you to say so," he began. "But it seems not everyone agrees with you. Most interesting ladies only chat for a few minutes before going forever silent -- and those who do seem interested are usually not all that interesting themselves, if you follow me."

"Too many scrubbers, eh?" I grinned.

"The 'in' look at the moment appears to be Crystal Meth Chic, if the local girls on Tinder are a reliable indication," he groused. "And so many chicks only want to trade shenanigans for weed."

"Aww. So I take it you don't have enough green to score?" I teased.

"Lol," he returned. "Even if I was the horticultural kind, I wouldn't throw it away on any of these chicks."

"Fair enough," I allowed.

"So then," he wrote after a short pause, hinting that he had something significant he wanted to discuss and had taken some time to consider it. "Is Mick often of a mind to go down on you when you're trying to chat with friends?" And I could see his cheeky teasing grin in the words he had sent.

"Ha ha," I wrote. "No, that's pretty unusual for us. It was fucking hot, though."

"I'll say!" Brett crowed in reply. "Here I was, innocently chatting away with some good-looking bird I'd connected with on Tinder, and all of a sudden I'm informed she had her hubby's face buried in her nethers and she was well on the way to orgasm town. Hell of a visual there!"

"Mmm hmm," I returned, coyly -- secretly thrilling at the knowledge that I'd planted images of my hot naked self in his mind, just as I'd intended. "It was quite the sight in real life, too."

"Oh I'll bet it was. Who knew the two of you could be so wild?"

I simply beamed; to be described as a good-looking bird and declared a wild and wanton thing, by Brett, by this man who more and more was filling my fantasies and desires -- it was so very edifying. "And how about you, Mr Brett?" I returned. "What's the wildest thing you've done lately?"

"Aside from signing up to Tinder and coming across two very good friends advertising for a threesome?"

I laughed at that. "Lol -- yes, aside from that."

"Aww gee," he wrote. "Life's been pretty sedate lately. You know me, half my time is spent at work, the rest is devoted to seeing my little girl. Although..."

He left me hanging at that. "Although?"

"Umm. I'm not really sure if I should tell you this. You might think I'm a weirdo."

"Oh you definitely have to tell me now," I quickly wrote back.

"Okay then. Well, you know how I've just moved into a new house? My ensuite and shower has a window that looks right across my yard to the house next door, their block is higher than mine and I can see their windows over the fence. And lately, well, I don't know, I've been feeling a bit daring, and, well: I've been showering with my window open."

I stared at my phone's screen in a state of amused shock. "Mister Brett!" I admonished. "Have you been showing off to your neighbours?"

"Trying to! Lol," he replied. "I have no idea if they've ever looked or seen me, their windows are always dark and I can't tell if their curtains are drawn or not."

"Have you ever met them?"

"No. I've seen them through their windows once, when I was fully-clothed and doing dishes in my kitchen -- I only caught a glimpse though. Just enough to know someone actually lives there."

"So you have no idea who you're flashing, or if you're even being seen?"

"Well, no. I've only been doing it for a week, chances are nobody has seen anything. But, you know -- just the thought of maybe getting caught, maybe being seen, maybe someone watching and appreciating my little show -- well, it gives me a thrill."

"I'm sure it does," I assured him, grinning hugely at sharing in his own naughty little secret. "And you know what? I'm sure if your neighbour does catch an eyeful, they'll get a pretty decent thrill of their own."