I tell her the truth—and boy, am I glad

“Rachel,” I say carefully, “I’m in a bind here.”

“Oh?” she asks. I can see her preparing to protect herself.

“Yeah. And it means, though I don’t want to say no to you, I can’t say yes to you right now.”

To my relief, Rachel looks puzzled, not hurt. “What do you mean, Andrew?” she asks.

I let myself sigh deeply and tell her the whole story, as briefly as I can manage. “So you see,” I finish up, “I feel like I owe it to her to talk to her before I agree to go out with anyone else. I like you a lot, and I even think you might be hotter than she is; but Heather and I have been friends for a long time. I don’t know what I’m going to do, Rachel. I really don’t. Right at this moment, I wish there was some way I could date both of you—but I’d still have to choose eventually, because bigamy is illegal. Damn it.”

Rachel giggles at that. “I see your problem,” she says with a smile. After a moment, it tilts into an impish grin and she says, “I suppose you could just marry one of us and have the other one share the bed . . .”

My eyes go huge as saucers at that and my cock springs back to life faster than I would ever have thought it could. “Wha—did—did I just hear you say what I thought I heard?”

Rachel breaks out in a full-blown giggling fit at my expression. When she’s finally steady enough to speak again, she says, “In all honesty, I’ve always thought the idea of a threesome with two girls sounded kind of hot.” My cock keeps growing and swelling. “If it was the right guy, and the right girl, anyway. I don’t know, and I don’t want to press, but maybe . . . if she’s open . . . I’d be willing to share you. I told you that first time that you were the first man to ever give me an orgasm . . . I had this friend in high school . . . I’m no lesbian, but we were both shy around guys, and, well—I discovered I’m happy enough to eat pussy if I like the girl, even if I’d never fall for one . . . I don’t want to push you, honest, but if you go home and decide you want to be with her, maybe you could . . . ask?”

I shake my head in wonder. “This is not how I thought this conversation was going to go . . .” I look at Rachel and kiss her tenderly. “Yeah, I’ll ask,” I say softly. “I can’t imagine wanting to turn my back on Heather, but—I don’t want to let go of you, either. Would your family be OK with that?”

“No,” she says frankly, “but it’s not something I’d have to tell them any time soon. I’m not going to worry about that unless and until there’s reason to. But—speaking of my family—I hadn’t told you—I hadn’t had reason—but my grandparents have basically decided they’re moving full-time, for their health. They’re keeping this house; there are a lot of reasons for that, including giving me a place to live while I’m at BSU, but they’ve moved all the stuff they care about already. Their bedroom is still their bedroom so they can come back and visit when they want, but this is a four-bedroom house, and they told me I was welcome to have a couple friends move in with me if I wanted, as long as they helped me take care of the place.” My eyes go wide again. “Partly it’s because they worry about upkeep on the house, but it’s also because they’re the most generous people I know.”

“Are you saying—” I interrupt, then find myself unable to come right out with it.

Rachel nods. “If you want to—be with me—you’re welcome to move in with me whenever. And if Heather is good with a—permanent threesome—if she wanted to transfer to BSU, she could live here too. We could all officially have our own bedrooms, and sleep—or not!—wherever we wanted. There’s even a king-sized bed in one of them—long story, family story . . . I think it could work, Andrew. I think it could be—fun.”

“I think it could, too,” I say, still shaking my head in disbelief. “I’ll definitely see if Heather’s open. And speaking of fun . . .” I take Rachel’s hand and put it on my prick, which feels like it’s trying to outgrow its skin. “I know I’ve pounded your pussy pretty hard, but do you think you might like one more round, if I take it slow?”

Rachel gives me a dazzling smile. “Yes,” she says.