Odd Man Out

“Hey, Jefferson!” Erin greeted me at the door. She kissed my cheek and handed me a bottle of Merlot. “So, is that you, Shelby?”

Erin waved at the woman sitting the couch, hugging her knees to her chin. “Yeah, hey,” Shelby waved back. “I’d get up but . . . I think I want to sit for now.”

“No worries, I’d rather sit too,” Erin grinned. She kicked off her shoes and fairly bounded to Shelby’s side.

Erin was wound with nervous energy. Shelby and I were much more subdued, slightly dazed and still adjusting to the jarring coitus interruptus prompted by Erin’s arrival.

We had quickly dressed as Erin made her way upstairs from the lobby. As Shelby pulled on a pair of my pajama bottoms, she told me she didn’t intend to jerk off with the rest of us. “I’m just staying to watch, man.”

“Whatever you like, baby,” I nodded.

Erin took in Shelby’s wane smile and turned to me. She noticed that Shelby and I were in pajama bottoms and t-shirts. “So, what have you two been up to?,” she asked knowingly.

I shrugged. “Oh, the usual, I guess.” I held up the wine bottle. “You want I should open this? I’m having bourbon myself.”

“Oh, let’s go to bourbon, thanks,” Erin nodded. “You too, Shelby?”

Shelby looked up. “Uh, no, I’ll get it . . . ,” she began to stand.

“You just rest easy, sweet invalid,” I said. “I know what you want: vodka and ginger ale, with a stick?”

Shelby sat back and laughed. “You can handle it? ‘Cause, you know, I’ll let you.”

I kissed the part in Shelby’s hair, drawing her into my nostrils. I held her scent, savoring her.

From the kitchen, I listened as the girls got acquainted. Erin drove the conversation, recalling things she knew about Shelby from our blogs.

Shelby adjusted to the eager attention of the effusive woman who seemed to know a lot about her.

I returned with the drinks. We sipped to my toast, something about the night ahead and nights beyond.

I let the bourbon settle in the back of my throat as I camped at the stereo. I had no idea what to play.

Shelby laughed, warming to Erin. My laid-back jailbait girlfriend could be initially shy, especially around outgoing people.

But Shelby was equipped with a state-of-the-art bullshit detector. Her gut told her that Erin was one of the good people.

“God, I’m so relaxed right now,” I said. “I could go for Emmylou Harris, but is that too mellow? I mean, Radiohead is fine too.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” Shelby said. “Or I can get my iPod.”

“I like Radiohead,” Erin nodded.

“I frigging love Radiohead,” Shelby agreed, sitting up.

“We aren’t talking about Radiohead anymore,” I replied. “Because we are listening to this.” I closed the CD drawer and pushed play.

Strings, slow and easy. A repeated note on the piano.

A baritone, in no hurry.

Ooh . . . ev’ry time we say goodbye . . .
I die a little . . .
Ev’ry time . . . we say . . . goodbye . . .
I wonder why a little . . .

“Hey, Ray Charles,” Erin said.

“Ray Charles,” I said. “But wait.”

He sang on, slowly over the gentle arrangement. He drifted to the length of a pop song.

“That’s nice,” Erin said.

“Wait,” I said. I took another sip of bourbon and let it rest as the background singers swelled. And then:

Ev’ry ti-ii-ime . . . we say . . . goodbye . . .
I die . . . a little . . .
Ev’ry time . . . we sa-aa-ay . . . goodbye . . .
I wonder why-yy-yy a lit-tle . . .

“Whoa,” Erin said.

“Betty Carter,” I swallowed my bourbon. “Man, I grew up on Ray Charles. But I remember the first time I heard this moment, when his familiar soothing voice meet hers in your ears, and it was, just, so unsettling and strange and . . . I dunno, odd. Blew my mind. It’s like, Betty Carter . . . I don’t know how to say it, but she . . . her art was so strong that she could even change how you listened to Ray Charles. You know?”

“She’s a musician, man,” Shelby said.

“Never heard of her,” Erin said.

“She’s the shit,” I said, closing the stereo cabinet.

We talked as Ray Charles and Betty Carter tussled, giving and taking the lead over standards.

Erin and Shelby eased into one another, Shelby waking to Erin’s energy, Erin slowing to Shelby’s tempo. I let them go, sitting on the floor, following their lead, listing to their voices.

“I think I’m overdressed here,” Erin interjected. “You guys are in pajamas, and I’m still in street clothes.”

“You can be in pajamas too,” I smiled.

Shelby directed her to my drawer of pajamas.

Emma arrived to find the three of us laughing in sleepwear and listening to romantic music.

“Did I miss the party?” she asked, putting down her bag. “Or did I misread the invitation, and this is a girl's pajama party?”

“You are the party, dear,” I kissed her. I let slide the allusion to her recurring assertion that I am a girl. “Emma, this is Erin.”

“Hi Erin,” Emma shook her hand. “I think I’ve worn those pajama bottoms.”

“Do you sleep in them?” Erin asked.

“No, I sleep nude,” Emma smiled, kissing Shelby’s cheek. “Well, come to think of it, I do a lot of things nude here.”

“Yes,” I nodded, handing her a drink. “You look very uncharacteristic in all those clothes. May I relieve you of them?”

Emma shrugged as she sipped her bourbon. “If you want.”

I shrugged. “Whatever.” I took back Emma’s glass and set it aside as I began to remove her blouse.

Erin turned to Shelby. “She’s been here like, two minutes, and he’s undressing her?”

Shelby shrugged. “Whatever!”

“He likes to imagine he’s very persuasive,” Emma said as I struggled with her bra. “Do you need help with that, honey?”

“Nope, I want the practice . . . okay, that’s one clasp down . . .”

“You really are pathetic with that,” Emma teased.

“I have so little experience . . . okay, that’s two . . . and three.”

“Finally.” I removed Emma’s bra, exposing her large, smooth breasts.

I handed Emma her drink. She took another sip.

Erin had the look of someone trying not to look.

It seemed to be dawning on Erin that she was really here, in this moment, and would soon be touching a nude woman—maybe two—not to mention the man now unfastening the pants of a half-naked blonde.

I eased Emma’s pants down her thighs. She stepped from them gingerly, taking care to avoid spilling her drink.

“Let’s dispense with these as well.” I tugged at her slender panties.

“Be my guest.”

I slowly lowered Emma’s panties with an eye toward the audience on the couch.

I knew Shelby was hot for Emma.

I could see that Erin was growing flushed.

I stood and kissed Emma. She held her drink to one side, nonchalantly taking my kiss.

“Would you be more comfortable on the couch?” I asked.

“I’m very comfortable standing,” Emma smiled. “But I’ll sit on the couch if you like.”

“Please.”

Erin moved to one side, edging closer to Shelby.

Emma rested her drink on a side table and sat back on the couch. I sat on the coffee table facing her.

I leaned forward to kiss her legs.

My lips traveled up her body to her lips. My fingers moved around her nipples.

“Be careful, they’re sensitive,” Emma said.

“Yeah man, you have to warn him. He really fucked up my nipples before you got here.” Shelby leaned across Erin and tweaked my chest.

“Ouch!” I complained.

“He dishes it out, but he can’t take it,” Shelby taunted.

“He’s such a pussy,” Emma laughed.

“Yes, I’m a pussy, all right,” I agreed, running my fingers through the slight tuft of Emma’s blonde pubic hair.

Erin was quiet, taking in our banter.

I slipped a finger into Emma, pressing up.

Her head went back. Her eyes closed instinctively.

I lowered my lips to her clit and latched on.

Emma’s spine jumped. Her cheeks went red. She convulsed in two jolts, then came on my lips.

“Whoa,” Erin said.

“Yeah, she’s fast,” Shelby nodded.

Emma opened her eyes. She looked to me, and then turned to Erin.

She raised a hand to Erin’s cheek, drawing her into a kiss.

“She’s fast, all right,” I agreed. I sat back, my hands on my knees.

If Erin was taken aback, her surprise didn’t last long. Her hand followed the course charted by her eyes, drawn first to Emma’s breasts, then down to her wetness.

Emma tugged at Erin’s pajama bottoms. “Can we get rid of these?”

“I don’t know,” Erin said, between kisses. “I’m a little more shy than you.”

“Oh, we know all about shy girls,” Emma said, slipping her hand into the waistband of Erin’s pajamas.

Erin’s pajamas were soon on the floor.

Emma moved her lips over Erin’s face as she traced a finger over the shy girl’s clit. Erin slid two fingers into Emma, chasing the rapid-fire orgasm she had witnessed.

Shelby leaned forward, slipping two of her own fingers into Erin.

I stood and undressed. I smiled at Shelby, suddenly the most clothed of our group. She looked up and grinned, but her eyes drifted back to her fingers inside Erin.

I stroked my cock as I watched.

Erin pulled an orgasm from Emma very quickly.

“Fuck,” she whispered as Emma came in her hand.

Shelby ran her free hand over Erin’s belly, exposing her naval.

Erin turned quickly. “No, wait, I want to keep my shirt on,” she said.

I was reminded that this was all very new to Erin. She was diving into the deep end, but she really was nervous about having sex with women, much less three people she barely knew. She knew she was free to bail at any time, but she hoped to sally forth—so long as she didn’t freak out.

“Cool man,” Shelby smirked. “Keep your shirt, but I’m taking your pussy.”

“That, you can do.”

“Perhaps everyone would be more comfortable if we took our pussies into the bedroom,” I suggested.

Everyone agreed this was a fine suggestion. The women extracted their hands from one another’s bodies and stood to follow me.

Along the way, Shelby recovered her reticence. She settled into a chair to watch.

I smiled at her.

“If I may make another suggestion,” I began. “Emma, would you be a dear and sit on Erin’s face? She’s never eaten pussy, you know.”

Emma turned to Erin. “Never, ever?”

Erin laughed. “Never, ever.”

“Well then, I’m going take your virginity.” Emma kissed Erin, who was growing accustomed to the feel of soft lips on her own.

Emma stepped forward as she kissed her, edging Erin back onto the bed. Erin reclined as Emma crawled over her, bringing her kisses across flesh and back to lips.

Emma pulled up, whispering something to Erin. Erin nodded.

Emma stood on my bed, steadying herself with her hands on the wall. She smiled down to Erin as she slowly lowered herself to squat over Erin’s waiting mouth.

Erin held Emma’s pussy in her hands, raising her tongue to lick and swirl.

“That’s it . . . that’s really good,” Emma said, her hair falling in her face. She began to grind slowly over Erin’s face.

Erin’s legs twitched and flayed as her excitement grew.

I sat beside Erin, caressing her bare legs.

I coaxed my fingers into her pussy, already moist from Shelby’s attentions. I fluffed Erin’s pubic hair, which she kept full and luxuriant.

“No baby,” Emma said to her charge. “Don’t nibble it. No teeth.”

Erin mumbled an apology.

“It’s okay,” Emma said, her drawl soft and soothing, so encouraging.

Wanting to assist in Emma’s instruction, I began to lick Erin. Perhaps it would help, I thought, if I offered a good example.

My tongue divided Erin’s labia and slid up to her clit. I tried a few motions to see what appealed.

She went for a slow, lapping lick.

And that’s what I gave her.

My cock was throbbing from the taste of Erin as she tasted Emma, and the feel of Shelby’s eyes on us.

My own eyes were trained on Emma’s back and ass, watching Erin below her.

Instinct took over. I opened my drawer and pulled out a condom. I wanted to fuck Erin, resting my cheek on the cool flesh of Emma’s back, as my sweet Shelby watched.

I ripped open the condom package.

“Wait, wait,” Erin said, jumping at the sound of torn foil. There was an edge of panic in her voice, as if her body was exposed but she was trapped under Emma. “I don’t want to get fucked—okay, Jefferson?”

My hands stopped, the condom only slightly unrolled on my cock.

Of course she didn’t want to get fucked. We had talked about that.

“Sorry, Erin, my dick went into overdrive. I know, and it’s cool.” I leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “You enjoy your pussy—I think I’m going to take a little break.”

I tugged off the condom, tossing it into a trashcan.

I kissed Emma’s cheek.

I got up from the bed, and sat in a chair. I caught Shelby’s eye across the room. She blew me a kiss.

I raised my glass to her. The bourbon drifted to the back of my throat. I sat back to watch, my cock still jumping in my lap.

I could hear Ray Charles and Betty Carter drifting from the living room.

I listened for noise of traffic, punctuated by Emma’s sighs. I took comfort in familiar sounds. My city. My lover. My music.

In time, Erin’s legs began to twitch again.

Shelby raised an eyebrow.

I gestured magnanimously. Be my guest, I mouthed.

Shelby stood and lowered her pajama bottoms. She tugged the shirt over her head.

She kept her panties in place.

She lowered her face between Erin’s legs.

I took another slug and settled back to watch. I knew how to crunch the numbers.

One man and one woman: intense, fulfilling sex.

One man and two women: challenging, ambitious threesome.

One man and three women: uh, why’s that dude here?

Tonight, I would leave the sex to the women.

The next morning, I woke in bed with Emma. Shelby slept across the room.

Erin was out cold in my bed.

I smiled to see her, remembering how I had shooed away the girls when Erin began to nod off.

I was naked in the kitchen drinking orange juice when Erin appeared at the door.

She was in her t-shirt and blue panties.

“You gave me your bed last night,” she said.

“Of course, you’re company,” I smiled. I kissed her cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“Dude, I slept like a fucking rock. They wore me out.”

“They are very good lesbians,” I smiled. “And now, so are you. How about some juice, carpet muncher?”

Erin laughed and kissed my cheek.

“Thanks for making me lezzie, Jefferson. Not every guy would do that, y’know.”

sex
sexblogs
bisexual
erotica
fucking
threesome
lesbian
breasts
group sex
Radiohead
Ray Charles
Betty Carter