"No," you say, "but I know where we can find someone."

Twenty minutes later and your mind is reeling. You had started the day picturing it going one way, and now here it was, taking a wild left turn and going in an utterly unimaginable direction. By now, you were supposed to be feeling like a shit for dumping poor Amy, and once you'd worked through that guilt you'd be back on Tinder, looking for your next cute girl.

Instead, here you are with her in a dive bar, looking for someone who would fuck her with you.

"What about him," you say quietly, pointing to a guy who looks about your age, arms covered in tats, standing at the jukebox.

Amy, who doesn't exactly look happy to be here, shakes her head. "He looks too ... rough."

This is the fourth man you've proposed and that she's rejected. You're starting to think that she might not agree to this at all.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" you ask her, giving her your serious-yet-tender look you've carefully cultivated.

She nods firmly, then swallows hard before speaking. "I -- I am. I told you, whatever it takes. If you need me to be-" The words catch in her throat, and you wait for her to say them, if she can.

"--a gangbang whore," she manages to spit out, "then that's what I'll be for you. Because I fucking love you, Elliot."

God, what a fucking asshole you are. She is going to let other men fuck her because that's what you want. One of them right now, if she can ever pick one, and then, after this? Many, many men. Your cock throbs in your pants at the thought.

"Maybe him," she says suddenly, pulling you from your daydream of Amy taking dozens of cocks in all her cute holes. You follow her gaze and see an older man, maybe 45 or so, sitting alone, drinking a pint and reading a book. He looks trim, with graying hair and stubble, and has an air of culture about him. It's probably just the book, but you can picture him being a college professor.

"Bit old don't you think," you say casually, but really you're pleased that she's actually suggesting someone. You figure if you question her choice a bit, it'll make her that much more determined to pick him, and this threesome thing that much more likely to actually happen.

"I think he looks nice," she says, and you detect a note of snark in her tone, possibly implying that you, yourself, are not so nice. Which of course is very true.

You nod. "Alright, works for me. Go get him."

"Me?" She gives you an incredulous look. "Why do I have to do it?"

"Because if a hot girl propositions him, he's much more likely to accept than if some random guy does. Unless he's gay, which is not what I'm after."

She looks back over at him then at you. You see the conflict on her pretty face. You wonder if she can really bring herself to go through with this. Sweet, innocent Amy. Then, without a word, she stands up and walks slowly over to him. You watch as her body language totally changes, from slouched and drawn in, as she was when you two entered the bar, to upright and confident. She's pushing her tits out, wiggling her ass back and forth, and you know she's getting herself into character. The character of a gangbang whore, you think, and your cock twitches.

She leans her face over, close to his, and you don't hear what they say but you see her point at you, and him look over. You see surprise on his face, then curiosity, and then you see a look that you recognize all too well from the mirror. The look of pure lust.

When she walks back to you, she is holding his hand and he is following. You get a twinge seeing that. It's one thing for another guy to fuck your girl. Holding hands is quite a different story. But then you realize you're being absurdly jealous. Amy loves you, loves you so much she's going to do this thing just to keep you. You smile. You have nothing to worry about.