I can smell her, me, him clinging to our skin, the sheets, and the memories we’ve made. Radiant. Fucked-out. Glowing.
My body’s wrecked. Ass sore from being taken by the only man who’s ever made me feel whole. I’m still overstimulated, not from friction or need, but from something deeper. Wanting to do it all again. Never wanting to leave this bed.
This moment.
What’s crushing my chest isn’t the desire for more sex.
It’s the truth settling into my skin.
They planned this.
Not in some manipulative way. Not with games or pressure.
With care. Time. Patience.
Avonna makes a sound, a soft exhale like the final note of a song. Linus murmurs something and kisses her temple. She smiles without opening her eyes.
They’re both so at ease. But me?
My head is spinning.
They’re fuckingmarried?
I think back to those nights back in college when Linus and I lamented about how much we wanted this but didn’t believe any woman would consent to share and be shared for the long haul.
Which has proven to be true, in my experience. My first threesome with the married couple might have been life-changing, but in the end, it was merely sex. Nothing long-term. A weekend kink. A vice I’ve chased over and over throughout the years to find some level of sexual fulfilment.
Avonna, Linus, and me are something else entirely.
Linus is my soulmate. He saw through every mask I wore from the start, calming something in me I didn’t know needed soothing with quiet, steady love. When he left, it shattered me. I ghosted him not because I stopped loving him, but because I loved him too much.
Now, I realize he never stopped believing we’d find our way back. He knew we’d find her too. He arranged forme to get to know her over the summer and I’ve fallen just as hard for her.
She’s a voice I can’t stop listening to. A body I crave like oxygen. A fellow songwriter who’s crept into every part of my brain, one verse at a time until we became friends and grew close.
She told me about her past, how she escaped the puritan religious sect and, through therapy, was able to love and accept herself. Embrace her sexuality without shame.
A concept so foreign to me, I confessed things to her not even Linus is aware of. How even now, despite my da’s attempts to make amends, I hear his voice condemning me when I fuck a man. How I flinch when someone touches me like I’m more than a body. How I keep trying to fuck away my depravity and still wake up thinking I’ve crossed some invisible line careening me into self-hating hell.
Even when it feels like love.Especiallythen.
Love.
Fuck me. Here he is. Here she is. It’s madness.Impossible.
Lying between them, I realize none of the shameful voices are swirling in my head. All this time apart was one long breath he held, waiting to exhale back into me. Avonna’s heart and soul fit me like memory, as if we’ve known each other in a previous life.
The three of us together are a dream I never let myself believe in.
I want this. I wantthem.
God help me, I do.
Sensing I’m getting too far into my head, Linus threads his fingers through mine. “Shower?”
“Please.” Avonna sounds wrecked. Sore. Sated.
Linus lifts her. I slip my arm under her shoulders, steadying her weight. She leans into both of us, arms draped around our necks. We move to the bathroom in sync, the way bodiesdo when they know each other. He sets her down as I turn on the jets
