Part One Hundred And Ninety One
John spent all day with Jo, talking, eating dinner, and late in the afternoon, making slow, gentle love. John had needed the reassurance of Jo's soft, warm body, the affirmation that she loved him in every touch, every kiss. But afterwards, as they were lying contentedly in the bath together, John made a tentative suggestion. "Do you think we ought to go and see George this evening?" "Yes," Jo said, dropping a kiss on his bear shoulder. "She probably had as little sleep as you did last night." "I can't believe she was so afraid of telling me," John said, still not able to come to terms with this. "She didn't want to hurt you, John," Jo told him. "And neither did I. I couldn't tell you at the beginning, because I didn't want to give you any false hope, of something that may never happen." "That's what Karen said," He replied, suddenly remembering her words of the last time he'd seen her. "I told you what she said, before going up on that roof, but afterwards, when I asked her about it, she said that she didn't want to give me any false hope." "I do feel bad about Karen," Jo said regretfully. "So does George. She's going out to see Karen in Spain, the weekend after next, so they can sort things out." "Probably better to do it on neutral territory," Jo concurred. "I doubt that even Switzerland would be neutral enough for that conversation," John said with a slightly mirthless laugh. "John, do you think Karen will cope with this?" Jo asked in concern. "I mean, I wouldn't want this to prove the last straw." "Well, I suppose that remains to be seen," John replied thoughtfully. "But it is something that we should all be aware of. This couldn't have happened at a worse time for Karen, and that deeply concerns me." "When she comes back, I think I ought to clear the air with her," Jo said with a certain amount of wary anticipation. "That's probably not a bad idea," John told her, his way of saying that it was an absolute must. It was odd, he mused to himself that just for once, he wasn't in any way to blame.
George was just getting out of the bath when the doorbell rang at nine thirty that evening, and knowing that it could only be either Jo or John, or both, she slipped on the blue silk robe that Jo had bought her for her birthday. Dragging a brush through her slightly damp hair, she ran lightly down the stairs, and opened the door looking flushed, supple, and incredibly desirable. "I do wish you wouldn't open your front door looking quite so edible," John said in slight disapproval. "Well, I knew it would probably be either you or Jo, didn't I," She said as they came in. "That looks even better on you than I thought it would," Jo observed, taking in the way the robe clung to George's figure, leaving nothing to the imagination. "So, that's why you wouldn't tell me who it was from," John said in dawning comprehension, as they moved into the lounge. "Oh, and I'd have loved to have seen your face if I had told you," George quipped back, thinking that this might have been too much of a shock. They sat on the sofa, John between them, consuming by mutual agreement a bottle of Frascati that George had chilling in the fridge. There was a certain amount of awkwardness between them, but if they attempted to stay away from anything too close to home, they could all relax. "You look tired," George said to John at one point, wondering if she dared ask them what she wanted to ask. "I didn't sleep very much last night," John said with a slight smile. "And Jo kept me occupied in bed all afternoon." "Lucky you," George said with a smirk. "A slight exaggeration, John," Jo told him fondly. "Do you both want to stay?" George asked, not quite knowing where her courage had come from. "Do you want us to?" John asked in return, observing her slight hesitation. "Yes, I do," She said without having to think about it. "Then we will," Jo answered for them, thinking that although they'd done this once before, now there would be no barriers between them, no holds barred.
A little while later when they were lying in George's bed upstairs, John couldn't quite believe he was here. He was lying between the two women he loved, both of their soft, naked bodies nestled up against him. George was on his right, and Jo was on his left, both with their arms round him, doing everything possible to make him feel loved and secure. When John's face broke into a sudden grin, and a laugh began rumbling in his chest, George lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. "What's so funny?" She asked, loving the sound of his infectious laugh. "I was just trying to picture Vera Everard's face, if she saw the two of you leaving the digs at the same time. Then she'd really have something to moan about." "She'd probably get off on it, the frigid old witch," George said in disgust. "That's the point, she isn't," John said, his laughter almost overcoming him. "The thought alone would probably keep her quiet for days." "In that case, it's almost a thought worth giving her," Jo said dryly, having always despised Vera Everard, whose tastes really ought to be confined to an archive in the science museum. They lay there quiet for a while, the tranquility of their closeness seeming to soothe any lingering ruffled feathers. Jo was softly drifting, her sexual satisfaction from the afternoon finally beginning to creep up on her. John was perfectly content to simply lie here with the two of them, because he was man enough to realise that he needed a little time to get used to the situation, to allow his brain to regroup. But when George slightly altered her position, and curled one of her legs over his, in the way she usually did before going to sleep, he couldn't help but to become sexually interested. "Can you not do that?" He said, turning his far too innocent looking eyes on George. "What?" "Drape yourself over me like that. It's far too invigorating." "Sorry, darling, force of habit," She said with a smirk, doing as he asked. "Anyway, I thought you liked it." "That's the point," He said, instantly falling for her wind up. "You just enjoy being something of a tease." As they continued fondly bickering, Jo couldn't help but smile. "Do you two always argue when you're in bed?" She asked, finally breaking in on the conversation. "Invariably," George said dryly. "Only because you're always determined to have the last word," John put in. Exchanging a glance, George and Jo burst into laughter. "That's rich," Jo said, leaning over to kiss him. "Verbally, you always want your own way." "Can you blame me," He said in mock innocence. "Having been married to this one for nigh on ten years?" "Bloody cheek," George said, kissing him to shut him up, and taking over where Jo had left off. But as her lips connected with John's, her eyes met Jo's, the two women exchanging a thought, the question flashing between them as if spoken. Gently parting her lips from John's, George turned her face towards Jo, and right before John's very eyes, their lips met, giving him the most overwhelmingly beautiful display he'd ever had the fortune to witness. Their kiss was deep, gentle, and lingering, making him gasp in wonder at the sheer erotic intensity of it. When their lips parted, they both smiled down at him, seeing the stunned, utterly gob smacked expression in his eyes. "I think," He said a little unsteadily. "That apart from when Charlie was born, that was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He couldn't believe it, his two favourite women, the two women he had loved for the majority of his life, were bestowing on each other, the types of feelings he had partially taught them both to enjoy. Yes, they had both obviously had lovers before him, (Jo had even had a husband), but John knew that he had been the one to introduce them to such intensity of feeling.
They lay for a good while longer, occasionally talking, sometimes kissing, all three of them aware that something monumental had happened to them this weekend, something that would change how they were with each other for ever more. But George couldn't entirely relax. Unlike Jo and John, she hadn't had the opportunity to achieve any kind of sexual release that afternoon, and the languid kisses she'd exchanged with both Jo and John, plus the newness of the situation, were causing her body to twitch. She could feel her arousal beginning to grow, her body becoming almost painfully aware of every point of her that was in contact with John. "Are you cold?" John suddenly asked her. "No," She said, her voice trying not to betray her heightened sensitivity. "Your nipples are as hard as bullets," He said, realising precisely what her problem was. "Yes, thank you for that insightful observation," She replied a little tartly. "Is my proximity getting to you that much?" He silkily mocked her. "Oh, so speaks the winner of the biggest ego of the year award. You're not the only one other than me in this bed you know." "I'll consider myself duly flattered," Jo said with a soft smile, wondering if George would permit her and John to alleviate her discomfort. Having his arm round her, it was simple for John to begin stroking the fleshy softness of George's right breast. "John," George said warningly through gritted teeth. "What you are doing is hardly helping my restraint." "Why should you be restrained?" John asked her gently, wanting to give her pleasure, wanting in fact to do the thing he did best. "Well... Because..." George began, and was then unable to formulate an adequate response. "George, I don't mind," Jo told her, reaching over a hand to touch George's shoulder. "Don't you?" George asked, not wanting Jo to witness something she wasn't yet ready to see. "Of course not," Jo said with a smile. "I had quite enough for one day this afternoon." "I didn't hear you complaining," John observed, his hand continuing to move on George's breast. "And you never will," Jo told him with utter certainty, slipping out of the bed and walking round to the other side. "Move over," She told them, and when they did, she slid in beside George, meaning that George was now surrounded by two people who wanted her to feel at ease. When Jo put her arms round George and began kissing her, George thought that she really must be in heaven. "Do you remember when I did this, the night you stayed with me?" Jo reminded her, beginning to move her hand over George's left breast, teasing at her nipple, and making George gasp. "Are you kidding?" George said between kisses. "Do tell," John invited, wanting to know every detail about whenever they'd been together. "It was the night I slapped you," George told him. "And because of the Chlamydia, we couldn't do much more than this, but it was incredible. Not for years, had I had someone give me an orgasm, just from playing with my nipples." "Really?" John said in total amazement, his pride for Jo lighting up his eyes. "Hidden talents, darling," he said, exchanging a long, slow kiss with Jo. As Jo's hand kept moving on her breast, and John's slipped between her legs, George's breathing quickened. She knew it wouldn't take her long, because the sensation of four hands on and around her was intensifying every feeling she possessed. She exchanged deep, languorous kisses with Jo, and listened as John occasionally talked to her, his silky, masculine tones sliding over her like honey. "I bet you've often fantasised about this," He gently teased her. "No more than you have," She quipped back, knowing that the thought had been with him far longer than it had been with her. She tried to remain as quiet as possible, but when John nibbled on her neck, and suggested that this really wasn't necessary, George found that she couldn't restrain herself any longer. As John's hand increased in speed, and her kisses with Jo became more frantic, she clung to both of them, soaring over the edge with a cry of complete abandon.
As the gasps of emotional release racked her body, and the tears coursed down her cheeks, they held onto her, both trying to soothe away her grief. "Hey, what's brought this on?" John asked her gently, kissing away some of her tears. "I can't believe that you're both finally here," She said between sobs. "When I think, of every horrible, bad thing I've ever said to both of you, I think I must be dreaming. God, I used to be such a bitch, to both of you. Have I changed so much, that this is really what you want, to be here with me?" "You've got absolutely no idea, have you," Jo said, seeing instantly that George was completely overwhelmed by the situation. "You and me used to thrive on making each other's life absolute hell, you know we did, and we were both equally to blame for that. I'm not entirely sure how, but you've changed almost beyond all recognition in the last two years, becoming the much softer, much nicer person that I suspect you used to be." "George," John put in, wanting to offer his own explanation. "Apart from the occasional phases of depression, I feel as though the woman I married, has finally come back to me." "Do you?" She asked, not able to believe she was hearing this from him. "Yes," He told her gently but firmly. "You've gone back to being the George I used to know. Yes, admittedly with a few added eccentricities, but whenever I'm with you these days, I'm constantly reminded of the George I fell in love with, the George I first kissed under the mistletoe on New Year's Eve. You were frightened of telling me about this, because you thought it would hurt me in some way, but I love you, and I love Jo, and I couldn't possibly be happier." As they eventually fell asleep in a delicious tangle of arms and legs, they all found themselves reflecting on the events of the last two years, all marveling at how they'd started out, and how they had eventually ended up. They might go through hard times, and having the personalities they did made this a certainty, but never again would they need to feel adrift, never again would any one of them need to feel alone.