Decisions Decisions Ch. 01

(Author's notes: This is a work of fiction. In this fantasy, nobody is worried about STDs. In real life, all non-monogamous sex should be practiced using accepted safe-sex precautions.

Special thanks to Jashet Hon and Candace. Their observations and suggestions made this a better story.

All persons involved in sexual activity are at least 18 years old.)

: : : : :

It was time. I knew that.

The only thing was, I couldn't decide.

Chad. Jeremy. Me.

Chad and Mandy -- sounded good. Jeremy and Mandy -- also sounded good.

I'm Amanda, Mandy for short. I'm medium: medium height (5' 7), medium build (size 8 -- my friends tell me that's slender, not medium, but it feels medium to me), medium blonde hair (some call it honey blonde), and medium breasts (34C -- again, my friends say that's more than medium).

There are two ways I'm not medium: lifestyle -- I do things my own way when it suits me; and social -- I'm outgoing, friendly, and confident. I meet new people easily -- they're never strangers for long, and although I'm not a "party girl" when what that really means is "slut," I do like to have fun.

I'm an accountant. Yes, that means I'm good at math. When I graduated, everyone told me I should work for a large firm for a few years to "learn the ropes," but I chose to go straight into business for myself. At first I worked out of my apartment, doing taxes and investments for friends and family. I must have done okay, because they referred others, including a couple of businesses which were too small to have an accountant on staff. Before long, I had the cash flow to rent a small storefront office near downtown. Two years later, I'm still an office of one, but at the rate I'm growing, I'll hire an assistant soon.

I'd been seeing Chad for almost two years. I'd been seeing Jeremy for over a year. I'm not a serial dater, or a user/abuser of man-toys, I just happened to be dating Chad, regularly but not exclusively -- by mutual agreement by the way. Then I met Jeremy, who I also ended up dating regularly but not exclusively, also a joint decision. I hadn't told either one of them about the other, but I never lied -- I never claimed I wasn't seeing anyone else.

Recently, I began facing the fact that I was nearer age 30 than 20. I wasn't exactly feeling the need to "settle down," but juggling two guys was getting old. It was time to commit to one of them. The problem was, I didn't have a clue which one.

Chad was my bohemian. Art museums, jazz fests, bed and breakfasts with turn-of-the-last-century rippled glass. He was tall and slender, sandy hair, clean shaven, and drove a two-seater from the 1950s. He dabbled in slam poetry, which is not my favorite expressive medium, but I found what he wrote very compelling. When he presented, whether it was his writing or interpreting someone else's, he had an undeniable charisma.

Jeremy was my nature boy. Hiking at sunset, bungalows on the beach, cabins in the mountains. He wasn't quite as tall as Chad, and a little "sturdier," but very fit. He had dark brown hair and a full beard. He drove a recent but paid-for SUV, which he had modified for camping. It comfortably slept two, and could conquer steep, rocky trails, but was also smooth on the highway. He owned a nice acoustic guitar, which he was shy about playing, but he was actually quite good.

Chad. Jeremy. They each satisfied deep needs. I loved them both.

: : : : :

The weekend had been a good one, so far. Monday was Labor Day, so we had an extra day off. Neither couple, Jeremy and I nor Chad and I, went out of town.

Friday night, Chad and I went to a play, which I'm pretty sure was supposed to be a comedy. We laughed non-stop, unfortunately AT the production as much as with it. Afterwards we met some of his friends at a wine bar.

Chad and I define sexual compatibility. We love to kiss. There is something organically electric about how his mouth feels against mine. I have no idea what he does that makes me feel so wonderful, but the way his lips melt onto mine is always a fantastic way to get things started.

We also love oral. Most guys I've been with, they might start with a little oral, but it's clearly a chore -- they show no enthusiasm for it. I guess there's some sort of Guy Manual they all read as teenagers, "you have to lick her yucky pussy, or she won't blow you."

Chad is different. He loves oral. He loves to receive -- what guy doesn't? -- but he also loves to give. LOVES to give. He was the first guy who ever took me all the way to orgasm on his face. He has an intuitive way with my pussy -- I think he knows my anatomy down there better than I do.

Most of all, though, we love to fuck. He's my Marathon Man. With Chad, I can take my time, relish every nuance, and never have to worry that he'll run out of gas before I'm done. Usually we settle into missionary, cowgirl, or doggie, and simply pound each other into submission. No need to change position, or do much in the way of speeding up. Before I met him, that would have sounded tedious, but we fit together so deliciously, our coupling doesn't need any embellishment. I just relax and indulge in the sensuality of that age-old rhythm.

After the wine bar, we retired to his place. From the moment we entered his apartment, he began peeling our clothes off, one item at a time. He dropped them on the floor, leaving them in a trail from the door to the bedroom. As he stripped me, he kissed wherever he had just uncovered: my shoulders, my legs, my back, my tummy, then an extra-long time on my breasts. When we reached the bed, he shoved me onto my back, pulling my panties off as I fell, and dived into my pussy.

He ate me right up to the threshold of orgasm, then flipped me over, pulled my hips up so I was on my knees, and plugged into me from behind. He had me in a heavenly zone, every stroke an electric delight, and I could have cruised at that blissful plateau all night. Eventually, I exploded into a shattering orgasm, and he came with me.

It was a typical evening with him. I loved it. I loved him.

Saturday night, Jeremy and I went to a party at his friends' lake house, ninety minutes from town. They grilled chicken and veggies, and ten or twelve of us ended up around a campfire at the water's edge, telling scary, sexy stories. Jeremy told a particularly hot one about earth being invaded by aliens. The invaders took the physical form of Swedish bikini models, and mastered two earth arts: stripping and giving blow jobs -- it seemed the only substance on our planet they could use to recharge their weapons was semen. Earth didn't stand a chance...

Jeremy and I embody sexual compatibility. We love to kiss. With us, it's as much about tongues as it is lips. The way he massages my tongue with his is just magic, making me tingle all the way down to my toes. By the time we move on from kissing to other things, I'm already well on my way to heaven.

We also love oral. Although he has a different way with my pussy than Chad does, it's equally effective -- he can curl my toes and launch me into orbit at will. His tongue and my clit have become the closest of friends.

Most of all, though, we love to fuck. He is Mr. Variety. With Jeremy, I never have to worry that sex will become routine -- he always has something unexpected, but satisfying, up his sleeve. Or, up my pussy, I'm just sayin'.

When the storytelling ended and the campfire burned out, we retired to his truck. It was late, and a comfortable cool breeze blew off the lake, so we decided not to drive home until morning. He rearranged a few things in the truck to configure it for sleeping, and we sat on the tailgate, admiring an incredibly clear view of the Milky Way. We fell into a lengthy kiss, and somewhere in the middle of it our clothes melted away. He kissed down my body -- my neck, my nipples, my belly button, my upper thighs, then his tongue found my pussy. His touch was so delicate, and he was so attuned to my tiniest response, before long I was ready to cum. I wanted him inside me, so I pulled him up and over.

We started with a variation of missionary he calls "Victory," where I hold my legs straight up in the air, spread at a 45 degree angle. Then he led us through an unusual number of positions, even for him: a version of doggie he calls "the turtle," cowgirl, on our sides face-to-face straddling each other's thighs, standing with me bent over the tailgate, pile driver, and reverse cowgirl. With each successive position, my pussy radiated more and more warm bliss through my body. We ended with me on my back, my ankles crossed on his shoulder, his knees pulled up like a frog, his thighs cradling my ass. His cock filled my pussy so deliciously, so perfectly, I just soared on the sweet sensation. When he came, the pulsing of his cock launched me into a ferocious orgasm.

It was a typical evening with him. I loved it. I loved him.

: : : : :

Then came Sunday afternoon. In a few hours, everything would change. I don't usually get nervous socially, but I had a huge case of jitters -- I had no idea how things were going to turn out.

I invited both Chad and Jeremy over for dinner at 7:00. I didn't really want them to arrive together, but Chad always ran about fifteen minutes late, and Jeremy was usually only around five minutes late, so I felt safe that they'd arrive separately.

My plan was, I'd ply them with liquor, then lay it out: I've been seeing you both, I love you both, but I need to simplify. At that point, I figured one of them would get mad and storm out, and the other one and I would live happily ever after. Their actions would make my decision for me, and I'd be rid of whichever guy was quicker to lose his temper at my imperfections. "The winner" and I could then spend our Monday day off together.

That plan seemed brilliant just a few days ago. Now, when they were due to arrive in less than an hour, I realized it was the lamest, shallowest thing I'd ever thought of. It was terrible and I knew it, but it was all I had. Besides, it was too late to come up with anything else.

: : : : :

My house is a 1920's craftsman, single story, with a deep covered porch across the front. I rent it, but next year I'll have an option to buy. It has solid oak trim and floors, originally stained a mid-tone honey gold, but over the years it has acquired a rich, dark patina. It's pretty solid, I probably will buy it. It has three bedrooms, which I have configured as my bedroom, a home office, and a combination storage and guest room.

My first clue that things weren't going to go as planned was when Chad arrived promptly at 7:00. I hadn't even gotten him seated when the doorbell chimed again -- Jeremy was also early. He entered and stood face to face with Chad. In my mind, I had introduced them to each other hundreds of times, but now that it was actually time to say the words, I got flustered and froze -- talk about the worst possible moment! Obviously I should have said something, but I was tongue-tied.

Chad broke the awkward silence by saying, "I'm Chad, nice to meet you." The words may have been outwardly friendly, but they were spoken without any warmth, and a cold, steely facial expression.

They stiffly shook hands and Jeremy said, equally stand-off-ish, "Jeremy. Likewise."

The silence was deafening. They took a step back from each other, and looked to me to break the strained quiet. My mouth flexed open and shut uncontrollably. If I could have engaged my voice, it probably would have sounded something like, "b-buh, b-buh, b-buh." Most two-year-olds are more articulate -- good job, Mandy.

Jeremy, usually a man of few words, finally said, "So, you're the other guy."

Chad's grim facial expression softened slightly. He said, "Well, I'm thinking YOU'RE 'the other guy,'" as a tiny, amused grin turned up the corners of his mouth, "but, yeah, I guess I am."

I began to panic. They weren't supposed to realize they were adversaries until later. My plan was disintegrating by the second, and I still couldn't form a coherent sentence.

Jeremy said, "Is that your TR-3 out front?"

"Yeah."

I guess it was becoming clear that I wasn't going to be any help in breaking the ice, so they did it themselves. Chad elaborated, "It's not the most practical ride on earth, but I've tweaked it a bit."

Jeremy empathized. "I had an Austin-Healey before I got my 4Runner. Same thing, once I 'modernized' it, it got me where I wanted to go."

"Let me guess, you replaced the generator, regulator, and fuel pump with Chevy parts."

"Well, same concept, but I found a Plymouth alternator where I didn't have to fabricate a new bracket."

Guys, aren't you here to talk to me? For some reason, they didn't hear my thoughts.

"Did you convert it to negative ground?"

"Yeah. How did you..." By then I had tuned them out -- they might as well have been speaking Swahili or Sanskrit.

"Something to drink?" I finally managed to choke out. They nodded without interrupting their dialog.

When I got back from the kitchen, Chad had discovered that Jeremy had a guitar, and they were prattling on about the advantages of electric vs. acoustic, steel strings vs. nylon, and Taylor vs. Martin.

Successfully engaging my voice again, I said, "Who are Martin and Taylor? Guitar teachers?"

They glanced at me like I was the village idiot, and continued as if I wasn't there.

I had expected they'd be guarded, eventually hostile, maybe even speak to each other through me, "Tell him I said..." My plan, at least the tiny part of it that might have worked, was based upon both of them being at their worst. Even if neither of them stormed off, at least by seeing their ugliest behavior I'd have a better basis for choosing. Now it looked like they were going to hit it off -- that was going to fuck up EVERYTHING!

Over dinner, I actually managed to say a few things, until they discovered they both loved older films. They traded favorite movie quotes -- I couldn't get a word in edgewise.

"'I do not think that word means what you think it means.'"

"Princess Bride! 'What do they call a Whopper in France?'"

"Oh yeah, Pulp Fiction. 'The dude abides.'"

"The Big Lebowski. I love that flick!'"

"But Mandy doesn't abide, she hates that film."

"She does. 'It's the-'"

"Guys," I squawked, "I'm sitting right here!"

"'It's the Cadillac of SUVs.'"

"Get Shorty -- good one! 'Goes to elev-'"

"GUYS!" I interrupted. They looked startled. "Pay attention to me!"

They both mumbled sheepish apologies.

"This is serious," I said. They both put on "serious" faces, which looked like little kids scowling, pretending to be adults -- irritatingly cute.

"Stop it!" I insisted. Tears of frustration leaked from my eyes. "Nothing about tonight has turned out like I intended. I had elaborate speeches planned for each of you, and now none of it makes any sense."

Jeremy said, "I thought you were going to ask me to move in."

Chad looked amused. "That's funny, I thought she was going to ask ME to move in."

They looked at each other and both said, "No, YOU'RE the other guy!" and laughed.

Chad continued, "I guess we could both move in, she has three bedrooms."

"We could relocate her home office here in the dining room."

"I see what you mean, there's plenty of space by the windows for her desk. The shelves can go over here against the wall."

"We can leave the dining table here, centered under the light fixture. We'll have to arm-wrestle for the front bedroom, though, it's nicer than the middle one."

"You can have the front one, I like the middle. It's shielded from the street, so it's quieter."

"Cool, works for me."

This was not going how I intended.

: : : : :

An hour later, the leftover pasta was in the fridge, and the dishes were done -- Chad washed, Jeremy dried.

They mentioned Body Heat, another movie they both loved. I said I had never seen it, so we had to watch it RIGHT NOW. We settled on the couch, me in the middle. They both had wandering hands as the movie played: Chad unbuttoned my top, and Jeremy got my skirt off. Chad began working on my bra's front clasp, while Jeremy started worrying my panties down, side by side, inch by inch.

Chad finally got my bra clasp undone. He joined Jeremy in lowering my panties -- it went much quicker when they each took a side. All I had to do was lift my hips, and voilá, panties gone. They each took an arm, and zing, top and bra gone. Naked girl on the sofa!

I paused the movie, and stood facing them. They both blatantly checked me out, scorching my body with their eyes from top to bottom. I've been naked with each of them many times, but with both of them there, fully dressed, it felt almost public. The room didn't seem to have enough air. I overcame the urge to pretzel up and cover all my naughty bits, but my naughty bits noticed -- my nipples jumped to full attention, and my pussy sizzled.

Their faces glowed with hunger and lust. I may not be the prettiest or the hottest girl in the world, but for this moment, this tiny slice of time, the looks on their faces told me that my legs, my ass, my pussy, my waist, my tits, and my face were their ultimate, their perfection, their world. I had never considered myself a group sex kind of girl, but their looks of sheer desire dissolved away any resistance I felt. My pussy flooded -- there wasn't anything I wouldn't have done for them.

I held out my hands, pulled them to their feet, and led them to the bedroom. My plan had been to let things happen, and deal with the results. I never imagined there'd still be two guys here, though. Even so, I was sticking with the plan -- let things happen, and deal with the results. We headed down the hall, apparently for a threesome -- unbelievable. Luckily, I have a queen-size bed.

I settled into bed while the guys shed their clothes. My poor addled brain half thought this was the hugest mistake I had ever made, that I should stop it right now. But when I saw two rock-hard erections, both intended for me, the other half of my brain realized that this could be the greatest night ever.

We started slow, on our backs. Each guy took a handful of breast. Chad massaged the whole tit, while Jeremy concentrated on the nipple, tracing its outline, flicking his fingertips across it. I love having my breasts played with, and both Chad and Jeremy are virtuosos at it. It was quite different, however, having each of them doing separate things. I never realized how sensuous it could be. The math -- remember? I'm good at math -- the math was all wrong: two guys times two breasts equaled about ten times the pleasure.

Jeremy leaned in, kissed my nipple, and began kissing down my tummy towards my slit. Chad sucked the other nipple between his lips, drawing circles around it with his tongue, and slowly rolled the one just vacated by Jeremy between his thumb and fingers.

Jeremy arrived at my pussy. I go through phases down there: shaving it smooth, leaving a dot at the top of my slit, a narrow racing stripe, or a wider landing strip. That night, I was shiny smooth, and Jeremy used all that bare skin to tease me, caressing the sensitive outer lips with his lips and tongue. He took his time, nibbling ever closer to the inner folds, eventually burying his tongue deep into me.

Chad vibrated his tongue across my nipples, electrifying them. Jeremy continued probing my pussy, licking slowly from the bottom of my slit up to the top. Each time he reached my clit, he flicked his tongue across it. He sucked it between his lips, and massaged it with the softest part of his tongue. Combined with what Chad was doing to my tits, I slipped into a deep, soft, warm body glow, and from there I melted into a deep orgasm.

They kept tonguing my nips and clit, and I plateaued, soaring and cumming continuously. It felt infinite -- I couldn't tell you if it was one very lengthy orgasm, or multiple orgasms back to back to back, because, fuck, who cares? It just felt so freaking good.