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Walking Away by Xavier Neal (10)


Aunt Whitney: What do you want 4 b.fast tom?

 

Me: Won’t be there. Weekend @ BF and GF.

 

Aunt Whit: Ha. My nephew is finally whipped.

 

Me: AND whipped 2.

 

Aunt Whit: As long as U R

 

I close the text and toss the music blaring device back on the counter.

 

What the fuck am I doing? And I don’t mean dancing around the kitchen to Prince or bragging to my aunt. I’m talking about falling head first in love with not one person, but two. At the same time. Together. But in very different ways. How does this shit even work? How can two people complete one person? How can this shit last? How can this end in anything other than fucking disaster?

 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I rush over to the stove where there’s smoke coming out of the frying pan.

 

Jason questions on a yawn. “Why are you trying to burn our house down?”

 

After catching a glimpse of him and Gwenny standing in the door way, I wave away the smoke and kill the flame underneath it. “I was trying to make bacon.”

 

Gwenny crosses over to me in the gray pin stripe dress shirt I wore to work yesterday. She gives the contents one glance and pokes, “But decided to make charcoal instead?”

 

I sneer at her joke, but the two of them snicker.

 

“Why are you trying to make breakfast?” Jason asks on another yawn.

 

A shrug leaves me. “I don’t know….I guess….I just wanted to do something nice for you. Both of you.” There’s an awkward pause followed by me continuing to stumble, “For um…you know. Last night.”

 

“Like a thanks for fucking meal?” Jason teases as he rolls his way over. “You’re really only supposed to make those for one offs.”

 

“And you’re really supposed to make something edible when you do,” Gwenny adds.

 

Their continued joking calms the commotion that’s been plaguing me all morning.

 

After we had sex last night where I came hard enough to make my vision fucking blur, we slept together. Sure, we’ve slept together before, but it felt different. It felt like everything between us had changed and not necessarily for the worst. I’d been keeping myself from fucking Gwenny out of fear of what it would not only do to their marriage, but to Jason. He matters to me. He matters to me in ways I never thought he would. His shit moods over bad physical therapy sessions. His excitement over remodeling shows. His frustrations with putting his foot in his mouth during his fights with Gwenny. All of it. And I knew, I knew, as soon as I fucked Gwenny shit between me and him would be different. I just didn’t want making the next move with her to ruin what we had. And it didn’t. Fuck, if anything, I feel closer to him than I ever have. There was something about the way we worked like we were one last night. The way we made her come together. The way his pleasure seemed to be mine to control in a completely new way. Not to mention having his fucking body pressed tightly against me. Shit, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.   

 

“I thought you said you wanted cooking to be something we did together,” Jason reminds the room. “Cooking for us is pretty much the exact opposite.”

 

His green eyes fill with mirth while Gwenny’s arms wind around my bare waist. “Let’s get you boys crawling before you’re trying out for the Olympics, okay?”

 

My hands slip underneath the edge of the shirt to feather the curve of her ass. “You love me on my knees….”

 

“I love you a lotta ways,” she coos back and plants a chaste kiss on my lips. “Now, you’re on coffee duty because you clearly can’t be trusted by an open flame.” Her face turns to Jason. “And you’re on bagels. I’ll scramble us a couple of eggs and fry the last of the bacon.”

 

“Which you are now responsible for replacing.” Jason gives my leg a gentle punch.

 

Gwenny peels her body out of my grip and busies herself with cooking. Once I’m out of the way of the both of them, I take a moment to adore how easy everything flows when we’re together. From the beginning it’s always felt like I just stepped into shoes waiting for me. Like he’s my best friend and she’s our girl. Like the connection we have is older than time itself.

 

Fuck, I hate how Sixteen Candles they make my thoughts.

 

Maybe I should ditch spending the weekend here and hit up a bar. Spend the nights downing Wilcox Whiskey and pretending my entire existence isn’t changing as rapidly as it is.

 

I turn up the music on my phone and admire Gwen’s swaying body. Her hips seem to move to the beat all on their own and her voice, a voice I can’t get enough of whether she’s singing or screaming, croons along to the chorus of Prince’s “Kiss”.

 

It’s fucking ridiculous how often I listen to this shit now. I created playlists dedicated to dates with Gwenny, dates with Jason, and a mixed music selection for when we’re together. I’ve never known so many goddamn country songs in my life, but hearing Jason have a hint of a twang when he sings along makes it all worth it.  

 

My eyes cut him a glance as the first coffee cup begins to brew. He’s at her side, near the toaster, watching with an equal amount of intent.

 

We can’t help it. The woman is irresistible without effort and unstoppable when she applies it. Sometimes when we’re alone, Jason confesses how much he hates himself for wasting so much time ignoring her for selfish reasons. How he’s fucking amazed she never abandoned him even when he knew she should’ve. He’s told me all about how deep his love for Gwenny runs and the truth is…now I get it.

 

She swings her head towards him and blows a kiss on the appropriate line. Jason blushes, but tries to play it off.

 

They’re obviously fucking in love. What the hell am I still doing here?

 

Gwenny bops her head along to the guitar solo, singing a few ad lib words, and pushes around the eggs. However, this time when the chorus comes around, she spins on her heels, and starts serenading me instead. The corners of my lips can’t stop from lifting upward at the enthusiasm of her performance. She grabs me by the hand, tugs me to the middle of the kitchen, and continues dancing around with me. Jason’s chuckles are short lived thanks to her beckoning him over with a finger. Together we sing at the top of our lungs the ending lines to the song, laughter immediately seeping from all of us afterward.

 

Gwenny kisses us both before instructing, “Back to work, slackers.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” we retort in unison.

 

She briefly bites her bottom. “I like that….”

 

“You are the boss, baby,” Jason states with a smirk. “You know I’d do anything for you.” Just as I reach the coffee machine, to start the next cup, he adds, “And you.”

 

My eyes are momentarily held hostage by his.

 

I’m obviously fucking in love too….That’s why I don’t walk away.

 

Gwenny gives me a sweet smile over her shoulder.

 

And that’s why they aren’t asking me to. Because it’s not just one another they love any more.

 

They’re also the reason I’m no longer canceling our plans to run to the nearest bar in hopes of hiding from the havoc my emotions ceaselessly wreak. I made a habit of forcing them to look their bullshit in the face and in return they’ve done everything they can to make me do the same. It’s not always easy to confess how much I miss being around them when I’ve got a busy schedule or how frustrated they make me when they swear I love work more than them because I have social ass kissing obligations. But I’m trying. And I’m trying because they’re trying. Gwenny’s working on keeping her confidence high when she leaves the office, and Jason’s working on directing his anger towards a more positive outlet. Knowing we’re in this together, in everything together, has me proving my aunt Lindsay wrong. I can give them all the devotion they need. Fuck, I want to.

 

We each finish up our portion of preparing breakfast and reconvene at the kitchen table. Music continues to play, and the conversation flows as easily as the pulp free orange juice. The three of us eat, laugh, and flirt. Eventually, we get around to the topic of work, which is when Jason practically falls silent.

 

He misses it like hell. It’s obvious by the way he tenses up when we drone on and on about our career problems. Of course, he cares because he loves us, but it’s obvious he misses having something to contribute. Something more than funny stories from the Animal Planet or home renovation shows he’s addicted to.

 

“You should repaint the office,” I slyly suggest, grabbing both of their attention. “That way I can work from home here sometimes.”

 

Gwenny immediately catches my drift. “Maybe a coffee color to tie in the desk that’s already in there?”

 

Leaning back in my seat, I add, “Definitely gotta restain those bookcases if you pick that color. White and brown would look awful.”

 

“I don’t know,” Gwenny says with mirth in her tone. “I think we all go pretty well together.”

 

Chuckles briefly bounce around the room before Jason states, “No. If I’m repainting the walls, the bookcases definitely have to get it too, baby.”

 

“Do you think you could install some of those overhead lights on the book shelves?” My question receives his attention once more. “Always thought they were kinda cool.”

 

“I can look into it. I know a little bit of electrical shit.” The thrill in his voice is unmistakable. “Not sure how much of all that I can do on my own but-”

 

“Most of it,” Gwenny cuts him off with confidence.

 

A wave of pride pushes his shoulders back and he nods. “We can hit the home improvement store tomorrow morning after your self-defense class.”

 

The reminder of an open morning encourages me to question, “What do you think about us going to a group session while she’s out perfecting her throat punch?”

 

Originally, he loathed the idea of being within ten feet of a support group. We argued about it on and off for weeks. He’d pout. I’d punish. However, we recently found one he’s comfortable not only visiting, but occasionally participating in.

 

Gwenny offers us a sweet smile. “You two should go.”

 

It’s no secret she’s slightly hurt by her lack of an invitation. Not my fault. That’s all on Jason. Part of him is still uncomfortable with being ‘weak’ in front of her. Showing he’s more vulnerable than he’s ever let on. I will say as much as he hates to let her see that side of him, the meetings have helped him open up more, so I guess it’s an alright win, lose situation.

 

“We can grab tacos from that food truck I was telling you about earlier this week.”

 

Jason nods again. “Sounds like we’ve got a date.”

 

“Yup. And then afterwards you two can hit the home improvement store,” she quickly corrects as she rises to her feet. “I’ll just see you two back here when you’re finished.”

 

“No way,” Jason laughs. “You’re not gonna spend the afternoon all by yourself at the bookstore. We’ll come home after group, all go pick out paint together and then go find you your Nancy Drew for adults.”

 

She scoffs at the comment and reaches for my dishes.

 

My eyes helplessly fall to her full tits poorly being contained by my dress shirt. I press my lips tightly together so that my groan doesn’t join their playful squabbling. She saunters her way back towards the sink and my tongue begs to trail itself up the back of her thighs. My hand isn’t given a chance to alleviate the pressure building. Jason’s fingers wrap firmly around my shaft, and I wedge my knuckles between my gritted teeth.

 

We instantly exchange identical heated expressions. He motions his head towards Gwenny with a cocky grin. I slowly nod and stand up; preparing to take exactly what it is we both want me to. However, rather than pursue it, I drop my mouth onto his. The greeting I receive is scolding and rough. His tongue lashes at mine for the unexpected arrival yet his fingers fist the back of my hair to keep me from darting away. I take the brutal punishment with pleasure and brush my thumb across his nipple. The action causes him to groan deeply while tugging me harder into him. Our mouths continue to battle until we’re both bereaved of air. At that moment we abruptly tear away only to discover we have an audience.

 

Gwenny’s face is flushed. Her chest heaving. Her thighs being squeezed tightly together as if trying to keep an orgasm from gushing free. I don’t bother being subtle about how I want her or how I’m going to take her. In one swift motion, she’s bent over the kitchen table, silently begging for my dick.

 

Jason hands me a little square package from his sweat pants pocket with a wink.

 

See. That’s best friend type of shit.

 

I don’t waste any time covering my cock and thrusting it inside. Her pussy molds around my shaft like it’s a goddamn custom-made glove.

 

“Hudson,” Gwenny softly sighs.

 

Hearing her satisfied simply from my cock returning home tightens my balls.

 

Gwenny’s pussy is home the same way Jason’s mouth is. Both have my name written on the fucking mortgage for the next thirty to forty years.

 

Fuck, when did I become so sentimental?

 

My hands land on her hips at the same time an unusual wetness drags itself down the crack of my ass. It falters my movements, but not Jason’s. He spreads my cheeks and dives his tongue with the same velocity I’m driving into Gwenny.

 

I groan fiercely at the new contact, “Fuck, Jason….”

 

He rolls his tongue around the rim once more, and my dick jerks fiercely between her pulsating walls. Jason angles me further over, shoving my front closer to Gwenny’s back. He nudges me to return to rocking, and my body follows the command. Each hard push into her is rewarded with a loud moan and each pull back is treated with a delicious hard stroke from his tongue. Both hands cement themselves to her shoulders for leverage. Viciously, I bounce her on my cock, becoming more and more obsessed with the devilish way she sings my name and the way it makes Jason groan in delight. My controlled thrusting turns untamed and his tongue ruthlessly mimics the action. Her pussy hit its breaking point yet instead of stopping, I shove her callously onto the table and continue to pound. There’s a wobbling in her legs as well as her voice, but the desperation to ride Jason’s tongue just a little longer blinds me to her need for reprieve. The mixture of moans and pleads tumbling from her parted lips feel faint in comparison to my heavy breathing. The kitchen table scrapes across the tile like it’s echoing her pussy’s prayers to come again.

 

“So close,” her choked voice announces.

 

I keep one hand pressed to her back while the other wraps around the ends of her hair to yank it the same way Jason does. The little action successfully rips out another orgasm except this one bucks me backwards. His fingers cling so tightly I can practically feel the bruises transpiring. He delivers one last beastly shove of his tongue and my dick bursts.

 

“Fuck!” My head falls backward only to have Jason provide me with the same tug I’m giving Gwenny. The three of us quake together in a mess of moans and whimpered names. Completely satiated, I collapse on top of Gwenny while Jason collapses on the top of my sore ass cheek. Little chuckles over how ridiculous we probably look accompany the music still playing in the background.

 

It doesn’t fucking matter if we look ridiculous or the world thinks that this is. It works for us. We…love one another. That’s all that really matters. That’s all that should ever matter.

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