And then I look back at Tippi.
Throughout it all, the heat and the overwhelm and the undreamed of carnality, she was the centre.Mycentre.
I was fully with both of them, but Tippi was my north star throughout.
The aftermath is quieter than I expected.
We end up in a loose tangle on the bed, limbs overlapping, skin cooling in the ambient air. Marissa reaches for the water bottles and hands them around. Tippi is half draped over my chest, tracing idle patterns on my skin. I can feel every point of contact like a constellation.
“How’s the brain?” she murmurs, cheek pressed to my chest.
I consider my response. The room is still softly lit, the music a low hum. My senses are certainly full, but they’re not overloaded. There’s a pleasant ache in my muscles, a floaty haze in my thoughts.
“Surprisingly intact,” I say. My voice sounds wrecked, and I chuckle. “I think this is what they call ‘blissed out’.”
Marissa giggles, settling on the bed again and propping herself up on one elbow. Her dark hair falls over one shoulder, her eyeliner slightly smudged. “That was… very nice,” she says, almost matter-of-fact. “You’re a quick study.”
I flush, looking at the bedspread. Compliments from Tippi always feel like a spotlight; from someone else, they feel like an external audit. “Thank you,” I reply, because anything else would bedishonest.
“Was it OK?” Tippi asks. Her voice is soft, but there’s a thread of steel there: if I say no, I bet she’d burn the whole night down rather than let it stand as a bad memory.
“Yes,” I answer immediately. That part is easy. I take another sip of water, letting the cooler liquid help order my thoughts. “It was… a lot. In a good way. I… liked seeing you. Like that.”
Tippi’s head lifts. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” I meet her eyes. “I thought I might feel… diminished through comparison. But I didn’t. I just felt lucky. That I get to be someone you choose. Here. Anywhere.”
Her eyes go suspiciously shiny. “You’re going to make me cry in the sex club,” she says, laughing weakly.
“Occupational hazard,” Marissa says dryly. “Sometimes the aftercare is less lotion and more emotion.”
I glance up at her. “Thank you,” he says. “For being so careful with me.”
She smiles, soft and genuine. “You’re welcome. You did really well at saying what you needed. That’s the hottest thing, you know. And I’d be up for a repeat performance, anytime.”
I huff out a breath that’s almost a laugh.
We lie there a while longer, the silence companionable. Eventually, Marissa slips off the bed, gathering her dress.
“I’m going to go hunt down a snack,” she says. “And maybe a cuddle pile on the first floor. You two…” She gestures vaguely, encompassing our entwined bodies. “Stay. Or come find me later. Nopressure.”
When the door closes behind her, the room feels smaller, but not in a bad way. More… focused.
Tippi shifts so she’s half on top of me, hair falling around us like a curtain. “Hi,” she whispers.
“Hello.”
Her fingers trace the line of my jaw, the corner of my mouth. “How’s the jealousy?”
“Oddly quiet,” I say honestly. “It flared earlier. But once everything got going, it…” I search for the right words. “It was like background noise. The dominant feeling was arousal. And… pride. And… I don’t know, connection, I suppose.”
“Connection,” she repeats softly.
“I thought this might dilute things. That sharing you would make what I feel for you…less. But it hasn’t. If anything, it’s clearer.” Reverently, I tuck her hair behind her ear. “I enjoyed Marissa. I can even appreciate Elliot, in theory, and I’m not opposed to him watching another time. If there is one, of course, I won’t assume. But the person I keep wanting to look at, talk to, touch…” I touch her face lightly, as if to emphasise the data point. “Is you.”
Her breath hitches. “Jacob.”
“I don’t know what that means yet,” I add quickly. “I’m not labelling anything, I promise. I just know that I feelcloserto you now. Not further away.”
