Great God in heaven, she'd taken him up on it! Peter didn't know what to do. He'd actually made the remark about public sex in the heat of passion, and he was reminded now that his words hadn't been completely literal. But it was too late, because, now, here they were, in a public park, being watched by three guys, no less, and she was acting completely un-Leslie-like. She obviously wasn't high or drunk… but apparently high on him. He was flattered to the max, but also caught completely unaware. He didn't know whether to scream "Rape!" or just enjoy the shit out of this. He decided to enjoy it. What the heck, you only lived once. She had him down on his back. This sweet, shy, polite, well-raised, wonderful girl had turned into a vixen right before his eyes, and he wasn't gonna let this moment slip through his fingers. Leslie was becoming more fascinating all the time. There were so many enthralling sides to her. Had Mike fired her up this much? If so, he'd sure like to know the guy's secret.
Down and dirty kissing, that had no romance or sweetness in it. Just raw, shameless lust. Christ, all they were doing was kissing, but they might as well have been naked and writhing all over each other like two worms, the way she was going at him. He felt as if he was in a porno film, yet it was kissing porno. All tongues, heavy breathing, wet, all over your face type of kissing, Leslie holding onto his face with both hands so he couldn't get away—yeah, as if he wanted to! And the thought that was dwelling in the back of his mind of those three guys only a short distance away, getting a charge out of seeing it. Whoa, how was he going to stop himself from initiating something they might get arrested for? But wait… those three guys certainly wouldn't be calling the cops, and if anyone else did, he and Leslie would likely be gone before the law got there.
"I want you, Peter," she said between kisses that were bursting with passion. Just when he thought she'd hit her pinnacle, she upped her game again. Her voice was so breathy, her body molded to his, running her hand down his shirt, unbuttoning it to expose his chest hair, pulling her hair around to the opposite side of where the three guys were located, to make their viewing easier.
Peter wanted to combust, he wanted to beg her to take his clothes off, but he couldn't because they were out in the open. He was pulled in two directions simultaneously. One way told him they absolutely could not make love or do sexual acts here. The other was telling him to let go and live in the moment. He needed her … oh so badly.
Turned out she was bluffing. After some incredible kissing, she stopped and laid her head on his chest. She was very aroused, no doubt about it, but she had never had any intention of completing the act.
"I wanted to see what your reaction would be," she said. "You didn't fight me off, but I could tell you were scared I was going to do something…"
"I was loving it, but yes… a little nervous too."
"I would love to come here when it's dark, and do more than this."
"You would? Man, that would be a trip," he was practically drooling now. They'd have the protection of night, yet if someone came close enough they'd be able to make out what he and Leslie were doing. He liked the feeling of the danger of being caught. But in the blinding light of day, well, that was almost crossing the line of too much excitement.
"I can do this, though…" and Leslie floored him yet again. She grasped his cock through his pants—the exact same thing he'd done to Michael only a short while ago. He knew there was an excellent possibility that the guys watching them had noticed it. He groaned out loud. She rubbed it, kissing him at the same time. She stroked from the head right down to his balls. His hands were clasping her around her back, running them up and down, unconsciously urging her on. "You'll make me come if you keep that up, and you know how… loud I can be," it was becoming harder for him to talk. The exhilaration of knowing someone was watching this beautiful woman feeling him up through his pants took him to heights he hadn't known existed. They must be eating their hearts out!
Leslie now had her hands on his chest, two buttons open so she could play with the soft fur, nuzzle into it, keenly aware of the fact they were still being watched. Peter basked in it. She rubbed his nipples lightly. He folded his arms behind his head, and let her do with him as she pleased. He liked this aggression in her. He let himself look ahead to the time they'd spend alone at her house tonight.
Her fingers crept stealthily, and started to tickle under his arm. "Hey, what are you doing?" He jerked and attempted to get away.
"Hmm… ticklish. I just want to stroke… come on, Peter," her voice caressed him, hypnotized him. Suddenly he wasn't ticklish anymore. She had a way of making everything she did to him seem sensual. "Nice," she said of the silky hair.
"You do that to Michael?" he asked, suddenly aware of his cock flexing a bit.
"I have, yes."
"Enjoyed it?"
"Yes… nice. I just like to feel you guys, touch you guys everywhere."
He was astonished that he didn't feel any jealousy. He had to admit to himself that he actually liked the thought of her being turned on by Michael as well. Perhaps that was because he was head over heels for Michael himself. So he could put himself in her shoes easily. Not as a woman, no. But as a man who desires a man as well as a woman.
Leslie marveled at the way the sun glinted off his hair. Layers of bright, burnished color. Even though it was almost winter, the California sun rarely disappeared behind clouds, although it was weaker than in summer. Here, near the ocean, it got foggy at times, but it burned off by noon. Seeing Peter with the bright illumination peeking through the leaves of the tree they were under felt like holding the sun in the palm of her hand. It also defined his personality—warm and sunny.
They were going to have to head home soon—it was getting cooler, and Peter was just a bit uneasy about the guys watching them. They could easily overtake him, and whisk Leslie off with them, although he doubted they'd try, with other people around. Still… she was breathtaking, and clearly passionate, and he knew what a woman like that did to a guy's libido. She had a way of making the male sex go just a little insane.
"I think we've teased those guys enough… let's go home, can we?" Peter's inquiring look made him look almost like a little boy asking for candy. But she knew he wanted sweets of a different variety, and Leslie was only too happy to oblige.
"Let's go," she said. Peter almost pleaded with her to give him a minute, to allow his hard-on to go down a bit, but, these days Leslie was no longer embarrassed to admire him openly when he was aroused, and he wanted to see that look of yearning lust in her eyes. And he saw it—when they stood up and folded the blanket together, her intent gaze was on his crotch, and that made him even more eager to get home—like, yesterday!
On the way home, Peter had to think of something to talk about, to try to keep his lust in check.
"Michael will probably be calling you tonight—he wants us both to come over to your house tomorrow, after practice."
"Both of you?" Leslie ventured into this conversation gingerly. "More talking? Like we didn't accomplish last time because Michael stormed out of the house?"
"Well… yeah. Except he's not jealous anymore."
"The same subject? The three of us?"
"Yeah, I guess I'm not completely clear on it myself… Michael's an odd one, that's all there is to it. He's firey and frozen, both at the same time."
Leslie had to laugh. Firey and frozen. From what she she'd seen and knew about Michael, it sounded pretty much on target.
Rules. It was probably about rules, thought Leslie. Michael always seemed to have a need to have things neat, organized, under control. So no surprise he'd want that with his love life too.
Peter was eager for her. Frankly, dying for her. But they'd ordered pizza, and couldn't do anything until it arrived, so while they waited for it, they threw around ideas of what Michael might bring up the next day.
"I get the feeling he's gonna bring up himself and me," Peter said.
"I was wondering about that. But why?"
"I don't know. I don't see what bearing it has on us both dating you."
"I don't either." Leslie ached with wanting to ask Peter if anything more had happened between them, but she didn't feel she should be asking. If they wanted her to know, they would tell her without prompting.
Peter was in hot pursuit now that they'd had their fill of pepperoni, pineapple, and olive pizza. Peter had suggested it, and Leslie had had her reservations, but she'd been shocked to find it delicious. Peter had eaten very quickly—even more quickly than he usually did, and she knew why. He wanted to get her in bed. She could hardly wait herself, so she hurried to wrap the leftovers in tin foil and put them in the refrigerator.
She shut the refrigerator door, and turned to go back to the living room and ran smack into him. He loomed over her, tellingly, a hand braced on each side of the refrigerator. She felt a strong pull of desire. She liked it when he was confident and a little… naughty. He was so close…his body heat warmed her.
"Did that turn you on today, to do those things in front of those guys?" His voice was smooth, like silky seduction.
"Yes, and I was… serious about going back sometime at night."
"Whew, is it hot in here? Or is it just my pilot light shooting sky high?"
Suddenly she felt bashful. He had her physically trapped, so she looked down, away from his predatory gaze. She couldn't walk away, he was blocking her on purpose.
"Playing hard to get?" he asked. He wasn't going to let her off easy. "Why so shy all of a sudden?" He was full of questions, teasing her gently, touching her face with his fingers, stroking it.
Their lovemaking that night was fantastic. It left them breathless, wanting for nothing.
"I have a feeling your inhibitions are going on a one-way trip—at least, I hope so," he said. "I do know that things between us are getting better all the time." She couldn't agree more. She'd wanted badly to say the words to him he wanted to hear. To whisper what she'd like him to do to her, but she just wasn't ready yet. The thought of it, though, made her heart race.
Michael was getting cold feet. It was morning, Peter was home, and Mike didn't think he could go through with having a meeting now between himself and the two of them. This wasn't the kind of thing you discussed every day, like the weather. The more he thought about it, the more he leaned toward telling Peter he'd changed his mind. Talking about something, dissecting it, could take all the excitement out of it, especially if it were sexual in nature. And having an almost clinical sounding conversation left him cold. But now Peter had mentioned that he'd told Leslie they'd be over after practice. Now what was he going to do? He and Peter hadn't even had their talk yesterday morning because they'd gotten… distracted.
"What'd you go and tell her for, Pete?" Michael caught Peter alone outside the building where they'd been practicing.
"I didn't mean anything by it. I was just trying to give her some advance warning that… we'd be coming over, and you wanted to talk to us."
"Well, I've decided it's just too personal to talk about."
"What? Will you please tell me what the topic of conversation is/was going to be? Besides voyeurism?"
Michael flinched slightly. "I told you before… you seem to require me spelling it out. And I've decided I don't want to spell it out."
"Why be so secretive, Michael?" Peter was getting impatient and irritated. He wanted Michael to just come out with it. He had a vague idea of the nature of it, of course, but he wanted to hear it from Michael's mouth. Surely Michael didn't mean… that. He was tired of trying to guess what Michael didn't seem to be able to say out loud.
"Pete, you're not stupid by any means, but you do lack common sense. Something can be right under your nose and you don't see it…. Yet, you can figure out things that the other three of us roommates wouldn't have a prayer of solving. Look at how easily you pick up instruments, look how good you are at math. But sometimes… you really test my patience. "
"Well, what else is there to say? The last time you tried to talk to us… you… got all upset, left, and avoided us both for weeks. If I can avert something like that happening again, I'll… think of something to say to Leslie."
"Pete! God, I wish you understood. I want things to be natural, not forced," Michael tried to will Peter to understand his line of thinking, but Peter was oblivious. He was just plain too innocent to get these very obvious hints!
"I don't know about you… but… things are already natural between me and Leslie," Peter said, honesty being so second-nature to him.
"That's not what I was referring to. Hell, I'm going to leave things as they are. This talk was a bad idea. Someday, Peter…. Someday you'll understand what's been on my mind. Just think of some excuse to tell Leslie."
Peter was puzzled. It wasn't like Michael to pawn something like this off on someone else. He was so self sufficient and always responsible for his own actions. He was acting out of character. Peter was wondering if Michael planned on going over to Leslie's by himself after practice. The way Michael was talking, it sounded almost like he wanted to avoid Leslie. Telling him to give her an excuse…
"Alright, I'll do that, Michael."
Davy called to them then, wanting to finish up for the day, as he was eager to get home and get ready for his date that night.
"Flaming Nora!'' cried a very frustrated Davy when he walked in the door after practice.
"Flaming what?" asked Micky.
"Flaming fucking Nora! The carpet still stinks! I don't think you did the job right, Peter. That new stuff you got at the pet shop, it should have worked better than that."
"Oh shit…" said Peter from the doorway. "I forgot all about it."
"You mean… you haven't even used it yet?" Davy was incredulous. "You've let it go too long! You have to get to it right away, or it'll never come out!" Davy was nearly in a panic. The next time he brought a girl over he'd be mortified if she saw and smelled the carpet in the shape it was. The Pad was already borderline scary as it was. "You've been entirely too… occupied lately, and it's making you forgetful!" Peter had to admit Davy was right. Peter's head was in the clouds much of the time with thoughts of Leslie, and he was slacking off at home as a result. So he spent the rest of what was left of the afternoon scrubbing the carpet, for the third time, using the new stuff, and hoping, praying, it would make a difference.
"There!" Peter intercepted Michael when he dared to enter the living room. "Does it look better?" Peter's hair was hopelessly mussed up, his cheeks were bright pink from the back breaking work that he'd been at for what seemed to be hours. Michael wondered how he had enough energy to even talk after all that, yet Peter was almost hopping up and down, awaiting Michael's approval. Michael softened.
"Yeah, Pete. It looks a lot better. Smells good too."
Peter puffed up his chest, proud of himself.
"Just remember to check your shoes from now on whenever you leave Leslie's house." He walked out the door, and Peter knew where he was going…
This had to be the best gig yet. Mrs. Marston and Veronica had come along, and it made the experience feel almost like family. The four guys, herself, Mrs. Marston and Veronica. Leslie found she could close her eyes and sink right down into the music, into the core of it, and hear Peter's low voice singing back-up, right in the center. The parting of the Red Sea, and there was Peter's deep bass voice, right in the middle. She found she could isolate his voice, and each of the other's voices, isolate each instrument, and concentrate on it. But Michael's guitar and Peter's bass transfixed her most of all. She couldn't wait to attend some practices so she could experience it as often as possible. She loved the way Mike's voice hovered over Micky's in "The Girl I Knew Somewhere," near the end of the song. Like an echo, yet very clear and distinct. It flowed into something that made Leslie feel like her emotions would boil over at any second. Davy and Peter's mystical harmony put a special touch to "Early Morning Blues And Greens." That song was now close behind "Shades of Grey" for Leslie. She was finding herself falling in love with more and more of their music. And she wasn't alone, as when she looked at Mrs. Marston and Veronica, she saw a far-off, dreamy quality to their expressions as they raptly kept their eyes trained constantly on the boys.
"What did Leslie say about you showing up alone?" Peter asked Michael in a low voice when they were on break, making sure no one was in the vicinity before saying it.
"I told her I'd reconsidered. Luckily she didn't push me about it. You and I didn't have our little talk either," he said, scanning the mountains he could see out of the open door of the club, left that way to help clear cigarette smoke from the room. Peter knew he was pretending to look elsewhere so he wouldn't have to face Peter eye to eye.
"I know. But… really… do we need to talk?" Peter's comment really said it all. They both knew they were attracted to each other, and that their little liaisons weren't going to stop, so there was really no reason to discuss themselves. It was just what part Leslie played in their lives and relationship that was remaining, and Michael had decided it was best not to make it an issue right now. Just allow the chips to fall, however they may. His hormones must be in overdrive lately… he shook his head slowly, trying to clear it.
"You okay?" asked Peter. "I think so," said Michael, picking up his guitar in preparation to go back onstage. "You goin' to Leslie's after the gig?" he threw back over his shoulder at Peter.
"That's up to you, but yeah… I'd like to." Michael nodded, allowed Peter a wisp of a smile to let him know it was cool with him. They needed to be alone together again soon—he and Michael. The sexual vibes between them were smoking. But the Pad was always bustling with four guys living there, and with Micky and Davy bringing girls in and out, there was a serious lack of privacy.
She loved them—she loved both of them. And not just loved them, but was in love with them. And they both loved her. Mrs. Marston saw it clearly at this point. There wasn't any more doubt. She kept catching Peter or Michael looking down into the audience, directly at Leslie, and Leslie would smile at each one of them in turn… in the same way. Affection, fondness, yes. But love? Also yes. And yet Peter and Michael were completely loose together, no tension at all. Mrs. Marston found this a real mystery. No signs of jealousy in anyone. That was the biggest puzzler. Unless, being of the younger generation—long haired hippie weirdos, as the older generation often called them, they might be just fine sharing a woman. But Mrs. Marston had lived enough years, and been with enough men, seen enough relationships to know it wasn't that simple. These were nice guys, and a nice girl. Maybe she'd been wrong in assuming there would be trouble. Seems Michael had come around, and was now wholly accepting. But what was going on behind the scenes? That's what Mrs. Marston would give her right arm to know.
After dropping off Mrs. Marston and Veronica, the Monkeemobile dropped off Leslie, and Peter hopped out right along with her. "Right in front of the others?" she whispered to him.
"If you'd rather I go home and then come back, I will. But Leslie, they already know we're both seeing you."
"I suppose you're right. I can't act innocent in front of them forever. I'm just glad Micky and Davy don't ask me anything about it."
"Oh, they wouldn't do that. It's not their business, and they know it."
He slipped his arm around her waist as they approached her yard. Breezy was happy, as always, to see Peter, and he played with her for a bit.
When they got inside, Leslie decided on the spot to ask Peter a few leading questions, and if he didn't respond, she'd let it go. But it was eating her up. She wanted to know how things were going at the Pad.
"How are things with you and Michael?" she asked after giving him a mug of hot cocoa and sitting down beside him. Peter sat back and relaxed, His ankle on his opposite knee, his arms stretched out along the top of the couch, obviously very comfortable with her in all respects now.
"Oh… we get along great. We haven't… had any time… alone together though."
"Why is that?"
"The Pad is like a 3-ring circus most of the time. There's just no opportunity."
"So nothing has happened since… the last time?"
"No. We're both feeling the effects though. When we play music together… how do I explain this to you… oh man, it's like I'm making love to Michael."
Leslie nearly spilled hot cocoa all over her lap.
"What? Really?"
"Yeah, the music is our life, of course. It's our essence. It spreads through me when we play. Even though we don't stand next to each other at a gig… I still feel it. And I know Michael does too, because he looks at me slyly, when no one else sees."
Leslie really didn't know whether to feel jealous or aroused by this earth shaking information.
"Explain it in more detail," she couldn't stop herself from asking.
"Well… the music flows through you when you play. You're in your element. And when someone shares that with you, and you play something you both really like… it forms an attachment among the band members. You just can't help it. That attachment is deep with Davy and Micky, but with Michael, it goes more than deep. I dig it."
"What type of feeling is it, though?"
"It's love, of course. All of us love each other. But it's more than love too… it's… a special connection Michael and I have. When we sit together on the couch and play, I feel it even more, because we're so close physically. And it's not just sexual either. It goes deeper than that."
"Does Michael feel the same way?"
"I'd like to think he does, but he hasn't mentioned it. You know how he is. It takes him an eternity to get used to something like that, let alone admit it. He's so drawn into himself that it's hard to get him to unveil and show me just where his head's at. I'm hung up on him, Leslie. Just as much as I'm hung up on you, I believe." He remained silent for a moment, then said, "Does that make you feel badly?"
This was the biggest confession she'd ever gotten out of either one of them. She tried to imagine it. She was in a mild form of shock. She'd never really seen them touch each other except for getting each other "floppy" with massages to the neck and back, and those manly hugs that were superficial and few and far between—really more of a squeezing arm around the shoulder than anything. She suddenly wanted to see them hug, kiss, like lovers did. What was she thinking? It might be downright groady to see. She wasn't at all sure she could stomach it.
She snapped back to the present. "No… no, it doesn't make me feel badly at all."
Peter leaned over and kissed her then. He had one of the marshmallows from his hot cocoa in his mouth, and he slipped it into her mouth. Sensual…They wrestled the marshmallow back and forth, and in the process, both became seriously turned on. After the kiss, which lasted a very long time, and having melted the marshmallow with their heat, Peter began to kiss her neck, then lick it. Sweet, silent messages seemed to be infiltrating her, as she remembered how much Michael loved the way Peter had licked his neck. She wondered if it felt as good to Michael as it did to her. The goose bumps were rising.
"Oh, Peter…"
She began moaning, the intensity of her emotions overcoming her. Cups of cocoa safely placed on the coffee table, they kissed again and again, Peter's tongue exploring her mouth, demanding yet so sweetly tender. Her passion was carrying her away, and all she wanted right now was to taste him…
Undoing his sideways buckle and then his zipper, Leslie pulled his rock hard, huge cock out of his pants, and ran her tongue over it for about ten seconds, as Peter writhed and begged.
"Leslie, oh Leslie…Oh God. Please…"
She took him all in, in one big gulp. Peter was groaning for all he was worth.
"I've wanted you all night…" Peter's voice was choked. She felt like an animal, her need was so great. She sucked him until she felt he was close to coming, then uncoiled back up his body like a snake and started kissing him. Long, slow kisses that drove him mad after being sucked by her amazing mouth. The huge surge of desire and lust at the feel of her lips on his cock had been erotic enough, but going back to that wonderful, slow kissing before he had been able to come was almost too much torment.
In the bedroom, they quietly undressed each other, then Leslie was in his arms on the bed. They just naturally, without consulting each other, slipped into the 69 position. Peter felt he would come very soon if she didn't stop that crazy stimulating sucking and licking and delving into his slit like she was doing. He buried his face into her crotch, starving for her, as he always seemed to be. He licked her juices clean, then started plunging his tongue inside, holding her buttocks firmly so he could lick her entire pubic area thoroughly. Lips and tongue teasing, only to zero in on her clit. He nibbled and sucked and licked—all at once, it seemed. They couldn't last long with this level of stimulation, and Peter was the first to go over the cliff. His muffled cries sent vibrations right through her. Vibrations…. Could musical vibrations from guitars cause this to a lesser degree? The thought was in the back of her mind as she joined him at the tail end of his orgasm.
He sat up once he had his breath back, and she saw how the moonlight caught his hair, his hazel eyes darkened to brown, a serene, peaceful look on his face, yet the wantonness was still there. He couldn't have hidden it had he tried.
He lay down beside her, and held her. She noticed he was still almost completely hard. Nothing new for Peter. He was good for at least another couple of lovemaking sessions tonight. Actually, she usually had to stop him, as she grew too sore. She felt his eagerness—it was like a candle that never lost it's flame completely. He never burned down. He was always ready.
At her wordless urging, he crawled on top of her. He moaned. His cock found it's mark with no help from Peter this time. As he began his gentle pistoning motions, she clamped her thighs around his waist. He propped himself on his hands on either side of her so he could look into her eyes.
"Look at me, Leslie. I want you to see what you do to me." His words during lovemaking always had the same effect on her. His hair hanging down, her face barely a foot away from his face, she stared up at him, saw the emotion, and almost broke into tears. It was strong… so very strong.
He continued to move within her, a little faster now. The eye contact remained steady. She clutched at him, everything fast reaching a crescendo.
"Peter… Peter, fuck me…" she whispered.
Peter gasped. "Oh God," he said. It were as if a rocket had exploded inside him. He fucked her well—almost too well. He became a wild, unruly stallion, yet he maintained enough control not to hurt her. She pulled away right in the middle of his extreme pleasure and flipped over on her belly, encouraging him to lay on her back. At first he didn't understand, but soon figured it out. She got up on her knees and guided him home.
Easy now, Peter. You're really big. Go slow at first."
Peter could hardly hold himself back, but he did the best he could. It felt out of this world, glorious, to both of them. With a loud grunt and a series of plaintive moans, he came again, while, with his hands under her chest, he rolled and pulled her nipples. The intensity of it had drained Peter for a moment, but as soon as he regained his equilibrium, he pulled out and licked her from behind, locating her clit and sucking steadily until she had her final orgasm.
They gave way, slumping down together, Peter on his back and cradling Leslie's head against his shoulder.
After a while, "My God, that was heavy," he panted. "You have no idea what that did to me."
'Oh yes I do," she teased. "I was underneath you, remember? Did you like me talking dirty to you?"
"Oh yes. It felt so right."
"Did it excite you?"
"Yes. To no end."
A little later, as they lay with one of her legs thrown over him, she said, "It'll be Thanksgiving soon. You have any plans?"
She'd been afraid to ask. She was afraid he'd go home to Connecticut to be with his family. She knew Michael's mother was coming for Thanksgiving, so he would be home.
"No, I don't. I'm going home for Christmas instead, why?"
Leslie tried not to act delighted, as she wouldn't want anyone away from their family on Thanksgiving, but she was also feeling a bit selfish.
"Michael's mother is coming around Thanksgiving," she said.
"Yeah, I know."
"Well, I was thinking…I know Michael will want to spend Thanksgiving Day with his mother, but I was wondering… maybe… if you and Michael could come over here either the day before or the day after for a Thanksgiving dinner here?"
He didn't hesitate for a second. "I'd love it, and I'm sure Michael will too."
The next day, when Peter told Michael of Leslie's invitation, Michael found himself hoping this would be the most wonderful Thanksgiving of his life.
