never should have opened my mouth.
But it was late; Greg had dominated the bitch
session for most of the
night and I could see by the swiftly lowering levels of malt in
glass that Jimmy was getting fed up with listening to the Great
Doctor House’s View of
the World as much as I was.
Greg’s brilliant at what he
does, but his utter lack of bedside manner still
as if he’s got some grudge about patient contact, a personal
that he enjoys flaunting in our faces. I KNOW he can do it—be
compassionate that is—but it only pops up once in
while, and under internal cues
known only to HIM. So just to derail
his latest rant, I give him a pointed stare.
know, I’d really rather hear
about your sexual fantasies.”
Greg widens those big blue eyes
of his and next to me Jimmy’s sitting up a little
slow sweet grin spreading wide. I take another sip of my martini,
the vermouth sting a little on the way down. We’re
in a circular booth in a bar
only a few blocks from work, exhausted
yet in need of company, and I’m between my
boys right now.
my right, Jimmy on my left; close enough to have our personal
overlapping like Venn diagrams.
nothing new—the three of us
have done this before. Sometimes I go out with Jimmy;
once in a very
great while with Greg, but more often than not it’s the three
sometimes in good moods, more often in quiet or melancholy ones.
Not dates, in any
formal sense of the word—just a drink, or a
to eat with a colleague. I let Jimmy pay
when I’m with
insists. When it’s Greg we split the bill right down to the
Works out well, and in both cases the company’s not bad.
it’s Jimmy and me, I hear a lot
about Julie, (and Debbie for that matter) during
dinner. In turn I
tell him about my rotten luck with Docmixer.com and we laugh a
over it. He keeps threatening to set me up with his cousin. When I
eat with Greg he
grouses about his team, or hospital politics, or the
endless annoyances of his day. I let
him roll on and counter the more
outrageous comments when I can.
therapy I suppose, but when Greg
finally winds down there is a softness to him
that I appreciate, and
he’s actually pretty charming under the façade of
cynicism. He’s usually twice as irritating the next day,
to make up for his lapse, but I
let it roll off my back. It’s
boys. When we’re out all together
like this, it’s an amazing blend. Jimmy is sweet,
right between them I manage to keep the peace, egging them on,
letting them vent, getting in a few zingers myself. They listen to me
during these nights
out; really listen to me, and I come away from
our sessions knowing I won’t find
anything better than the
them to keep me on a steady course. They make me feel
needed and . . . attractive.
they DO flirt, both of them.
Jimmy’s stopped himself from making full passes
at me, but
gentle flirtatious moves do my ego good. He helps me with my
strokes my hand on the table, hugs me goodnight and nuzzles my ear.
sexy little moves to remind me that I’m a woman
he’s a man. Just enough to leave
us both knowing there could
something very good between us.
flirting is less direct, but
devastating at times. He looks at me with those baby
sometimes he lets the hunger show through. That intense little
appetite makes me squirm. He tucks his cane under the
table and never fails to let the
shaft of it rest between my feet in
a Freudian show of dominance that amuses me. He
looms when he sees me
to my car, and although he never hugs me back when I hug
sometimes I can feel his erection muffled through layers and denial.
and Greg—they each want me, a
I want them. Theirs are the faces
that come to mind when I rub myself to orgasm
in the lonely darkness
of my bed. I might think of someone else at the beginning, but
gradually my thoughts return to my boys: Jimmy’s beautiful
lips. They each have appeal, each have
that attract me to them. Either would
be a good lover, I know that
together . . .
can see by the gleam in her eyes that
Lisa is about to yank Greg’s chain, and I surely
don’t want to
miss this, so I sit up a little and watch. It’s an easy habit
fall into; just
watching them. They’re oil and water, cat and
fire and ice—although usually Lisa’s
the ice and
Greg the fire.
Watching them bicker is good entertainment, actually,
Lisa gets worked up—
I do too. A little. Not that I
can do anything about it, but still it’s a tiny inner thrill
savor. She’s beautiful, in her fine-boned intensity. Elegant.
even though we’ve
pretty much always kept things at a
hands-off-let’s-preserve-the-friendship stage I’d
lying if I
didn’t admit I’ve thought of her in a few fantasies.
happen to know for a fact Greg has
too; his confession coming over a bottle of scotch
we split a few
years back. I’m sure it’s an admission he regrets
hell. He’s hoarded enough of my secrets
only fair I get some leverage in kind. Between us we’re a
of regrets and screw-ups and misdeeds, but neither of us
now Lisa’s in the club too; a
damned nice addition to the mix. Lisa’s sharp, and
can keep Greg on his toes; the show’s fun to watch once it
fantasies?” I hear Greg repeat.
The tone’s full of bluff and insinuation, but under
the little bleat of surprise. I grin into my glass, waiting to see
he’s going to spout. Probably something about
cheerleaders—that’s usually his
first line of
but cheerleaders,” Lisa
warns, and I feel my grin widen. Good girl—get him
early. Greg gives a mock-sigh and shoots me a look that I’m
respond to. I shrug—he can try his Angelina Jolie
if he wants. Under the table I feel
Lisa’s lean thigh resting
alongside mine, and the sweet warmth is good. I like her thighs.
I do have this one that
involves an upclose and personal judging of
Greg begin, warming to his subject. “Along with tropical oil
needs to be
applied in liberal amounts to exposed skin. Nothing like
gleaming supermodel thighs to
make a man happy to be alive.”
you and all those supermodels?”
Lisa asks. I love her slightly cynical tone, and I’m
little cyberchips of her brain fetching images and calculating
Greg’s fantasy. She’s highly
analytical when she
wants to be, and that’s part of her
charm too. Good about the
details AND the big picture; undoubtedly she has to be in
order to do
one of those factors that
attracts me, to be honest. Lisa’s direct. She flirts,
flustered at times, but by God she hasn’t got a coy bone in
body. No wonder
her Internet dates go bust on a regular
computer chat could ever prepare a
man for her refreshingly blunt
approach face to face.
me shallow, but I’m glad she
hasn’t managed to hook up with anyone yet. I like
with us. I like the way she shoots me an intimately amused glance
now, waiting for Greg to respond to her question. Her eyes are smoky
blue, and they glow a
little in the candlelight.
me. Doctor Wilson can dream up
his OWN fantasies,” House rolls out loftily.
“Besides, he’s not
into supermodels. They play hell with his guilt.”
I snap, feeling my face
flush a little. Trust Greg to get a dig in a tender spot
trying. So I kept marrying, even when I shouldn’t have.
my therapist called it. Looking for Love in All the
Blonde faces, Greg called it.
I pick up my glass, but Lisa
shifts her thigh to rub mine in a comforting way,
and instead of
downing the rest of my whisky I sip it. Greg continues.
I’m guilt-free. I can indulge
in a multi-layered orgy of personal delight under a
tropical sun with
young and eager bodies lushly begging for the personal
only I can provide . . . “
fry like a slice of bacon on
a griddle,” I point out, staying mild, but smirking.
pale middle-aged skin under blazing rays . . . Melanoma City, Greg.
Oil has no
SPF you know.”
it’s a FANTASY!” he
growls, “A mental indulgence that doesn’t require
protection OR condoms OR HIV tests for that matter! In our own minds
we are GODS,
her voice low and amused. Suddenly I get an image
of her, flowers
woven into her long flowing hair as she rides in over the ocean waves
a scallop shell: AphroCudd-dite, naked and tempting. Wow.
enough to make me
cough a little over my mouthful of whisky.
have no idea what the hell’s gotten
into these two tonight, but whatever it is, we need
to drink it away.
I’ve already had my daily dose of frivolity from Bibbity,
this afternoon, and right now the itty bitty frayed nerve
endings along my temper and my
femur are wearing ever thinner.
sure as hell not helping that Cuddles is wearing her
along with a sweater so low I can damn near see her navel. That part
not complaining about—the low cut one
anyway—but the smile
has me a tad worried.
when did she ever want to hear
about my fantasies? I’ve watched her alcohol
been nowhere NEAR enough for a question like that. Cuddles has
been the type to encourage the general raunchiness Jimmy and I can
create out of thin
air. No, she generally listens in for a moment and
then either changes the subject, or
caps us good, leaving both of us
sulking in our beers. Or tequila. Or whatever we’re
does NOT bring the smut to the
table; no, that’s OUR job. Ergo, something’s
Plainsboro, and I intend to find out what it is. At least I
one on her about the Astroglide, the latex gloves and
Clara Barton in full dominatrix
gear. Even Jimmy can’t grasp
breathlessness of THAT combination.
wit: Jimmy is sliding into mildly
marinated, and I can see he’s getting used to being
wedding band because he’s not fiddling with his fingers at
Cuddles has both elbows on the table and that brings the
Golden Globes into play nicely—and distracting as those sweet
things might be, I need to keep focused.
it. That smirk in soft rose
lipstick knows too much now. Tonight I might as well
sense a capper coming, even in the fantasy department. The best way
slink out of it is to hit to left field, so I do.
right Jimmy Bob, resident
Radiation Sheriff of the Table, what’s YOUR fantasy,
La Carte?” I toss his way as I prop an elbow on the table.
my face lower, and damned if I don’t have to look over
Cuddle’s pretty chest to see
Jimmy. What a shame.
squirming now, not making eye
contact with either of us, and I have a pretty
good suspicion why.
It’s not just that Luscious Lisa is here, although
part of it—it’s that he’s got a
hankering for the
slightly unconventional. I know this
through careful observation
through the years. The odd conversation, the telltale signs
there: James Evan Wilson might laugh at my Clara Barton daydream, but
willing to bet my Official Best Buddy here has had more
with leather than
Cuddles and myself put together.
blushes and looks down into his
drink, but before I can call him for stalling he clears
and speaks in a low tone.
kidnapped and, um, used by a
motorcycle babe—happy now?”
blink, surprised he’d admit THAT
much. He must be drinking more than I thought, or
just feeling brave
tonight. Cuddles gives an approving nod.
hot . . . chains jingling,
boots, tight cropped teeshirt—“ she croons and all
I’m fighting a serious surge of interest from Mr. Up. Crap, I
NOT need that at
the moment. From the look on Jimmy’s face
got the same damned problem.
well what can I say—forceful
women fascinate me,” he mumbles into his whisky. I
shifting to give myself a little lap room, as it were.
that a code word for
whip you with their--?”
no dissing someone else’s
goggle at Cuddles. “Did you just
she turns a slightly irritated look
my way, and those smoky eyes glitter a little. “Yes,
slang for dismiss, all right?”
shuckies there, Miz Cuddy, I
never did have much book larning,” I drawl back.
back a laugh now, which is good. The waitress sails by, but none of
are taking another and she disappears again. A little moment of
quiet settles in with us
and I look at the two of them.
don’t know when it happened, but it
was slow, and steady. My social life, which was
never huge to begin
with, telescoped down into a very narrow field of focus, fueled
the damned infarction, and later Stacy driving away in her Volvo. I
ignored calls, and
threw away letters and lost touch with everyone.
but these two.
who takes my barbs and brushes
them off, then waits to hear more, and sweet,
sweet Cuddles, who sees
me exactly for what I was then and am now.
it boils down to a friend I sure as
hell don’t deserve, and a woman I can never have. I
true what people say—I AM one sad and sorry fuck.
as well make a night of it, so I
turn my best leer to She With the Ultrahot Hooters.
Cuddy, what’s YOUR sexual fantasy? Talk slow, I want to catch
take a breath—this is it, a very
make or break moment here. They could end up
laughing at me, and even
if I joined in . . . but I brought it up, and damn it, I can piss
the wall too. At least I’ll have said it, and I can live with
myself for that much.
shoot a look to my left, then my
right; rapt attention from them both. Jimmy looks
interested, and Greg has a smirk already starting. I wait until he
take a sip of his drink, then give a low, breathy sigh.
is to sleep with both of you—at
the same time.”
timing! Greg’s choking on a
mouthful of scotch burning down the wrong pipe,
and Jimmy has sucked
in so much air the candle on our table is wavering.
Christ! WARN a guy before you
spring something like that on us!” House
coughs. Jimmy has
adorable flush over his cheekbones, but he’s very, very
look down, working on my demure expression, but I know I’m
pink myself right
now. Greg is still gurgling a little and I give a
little happy hum.
come on, it’s harmless—I just
have this warm and happy dream about snuggling up between the two of
. . . snuggling?”
Jimmy who asks, not
the beginning, yeah. All safe and
cozy under some big blanket in the dark.”
. . . is this a one-at-a-time
thing, or are we all . . . involved?” he continues, and
him. God I love Jimmy’s persistence. That’s why
he’s the head
of Oncology; he
doesn’t give up until he has the answers. I
chin on my hand and toy with my
all of us, the first couple of
times. Nice slow intense lovemaking. Lots of touching
powerful climaxes. After that I pair off with each of you while the
other one recuperates.”
God,” I hear House wheeze,
“Yeah, those first ten rounds are a bitch. Who’d
had such a dirty imagination, Cuddy? And bear in mind we’d
damned big bed—California King at LEAST for that sort of tag
know,” I sigh, “but since it’s
a dream that’s no more a problem than your tanning
Jimmy reassures me, his
eyes twinkling. “Just a mental
the three of
feel so USED,” Greg complains,
but I swear I hear a little—fear?—in his
Carefully I make
it a point to shoot him a more serious look.
you the one pointing out
it’s just a fantasy, Greg? Those never come true
I check my watch, which is one of our signals, and reluctantly
slides out of the booth to let me get out. I toss down a ten to cover
my drink and wriggle
into my coat, wanting to slip away now that
spoken up. I feel embarrassed but a
little proud too—and at
they know now.
almost says something, but I
shake my head, trying to keep my expression soft.
about the way Greg’s looking at me that’s bringing
me close to
and I’m not going to let him know it, so I lean over
table and pat his bristly cheek.
worry, it’s only sexual
harassment if your job’s on the line, right?”
he snarls softly.
“You devious, devious woman.”
I feel it; almost imperceptibly he
pushes his cheek against my hand, seeking the
caress. Gently I let my
fingers trail away. I turn to Jimmy, hugging him, feeling the
response of his body to my words, my proximity.
walk away from them, tossing a casual
“Goodnight, doctors” as I make my way out
door. My car’s
visible through the window and I know they’ll watch me get in
drive off, linger a little once I’m gone.
bet it’s an interesting
conversation I’m leaving behind.
about a bombshell of amazing
proportions—not only did I have NO idea I was a
a fantasy of Lisa’s, I didn’t know it would be a
trois to boot! I
settle into the booth again, needing a moment to
let my erection die down, but it might
be a while.
stunned. Flattered. Wishing it
was myself, Lisa and say—Cameron, but still, not my fantasy I
suppose so I’ll have to settle for the split with Greg. God,
three of us in a
bed, entangled, giving in to urges . . .
Ground Control to Major WILSON!
Get your mind off the launch pad in your pants
for a moment
comes Greg’s snarl and I stare a little stupidly at him.
his drink now, and I wince, knowing how that burns.
down, you’ll fry your
esophagus at that rate.” I tell him. He shrugs.
are you, a doctor? Oh, wait,
yeah you are,” he sourly comments, slamming the
on the table. I wait, sensing more is coming.
don’t wait long.
did that on purpose. Sat there
between us and just, just BAITED us. Women are
devious, Jimmy. And
Cuddles is the queen of them all.”
I question lightly. I
don’t care how outraged Greg’s getting; Lisa
honest about her fantasy than we were with ours. I mean, yeah I HAVE
entertained thoughts of being cuffed and dragged off by a motorcycle
babe, but what I
didn’t mention is that I’ve
mentally cast that
role a few times. Once in a while my
motorcycle goddess is Ann
Margaret. Occasionally she’s Traci Lords. MOST of the time
I fantasize that it’s—
like I have a PROBLEM with
more than two players on the field as it were, but I
planning on you being ONE of them.”
sigh, letting go of my daydream for a
moment and try to focus on Greg.
Give me a break, Greg. We
HAVE seen each other naked. Not like either of us
are prime hunks
grunts. I pause a moment, and it’s
odd, because in that little moment of silence I
suddenly figure out
what really bothering him about Lisa’s revelation. The
makes me feel sympathetic and oddly compassionate, so I choose my
fact, she’s probably already
seen YOU naked.”
glance shoots up at me, sharp
and confused, I pick up my drink and swirl the ice
in it a little and
continue. “Come on, she was your attending for the
Pre-Op. Post-Op, she probably got a good eyeful of your manly charms
while you were
Comes his little dry moan.
“Lying there with filet ‘o thigh and enough
to be drooling like an idiot. Yes, THERE’S a great image to
off to. I’m
sure my dick was a gorgeous sight with a catheter
shoved up it.”
feel my eyes roll as exasperation
floods through, replacing my compassion. “Damn it,
admitted she’s got a fantasy starring the three of us. Can
concentrate on the positives here?” I grunt a little. He
his eyes shut for a
still trying to process that.
Not that she has the fantasy, but why she TOLD us
irritates me. The man can’t
accept anything at face value, particularly compliments.
he has some built-in bullshit detector that never shuts off and seeks
all the time. I know Greg’s accused me of being
excessive optimist, but you’d think
the one default any man
have would be when a woman’s fantasy is unveiled.
know what? I don’t care. She
had the courage to do it and if I ever have to share a
you, she’d be the one. Lisa’s smart enough to keep
you from being
asshole, and sexy enough to keep both of us satisfied, Greg.
Face it, one weekend with
Cuddy and we’d BOTH we walking with
am still trying to get my synapses
around the concept of Cuddles wanting a threeway.
With US, no less.
This SO does not compute—We’re talking about the
Princeton-Plainsboro; a woman who thinks in terms of hourly billing,
schedules. I mean yeah, she showcases a hot lil’
has a naughty smile I’d love
to leave cream on, absolutely,
doing it with Jimmy AND me?
pick up my drink once more, wondering
how it got empty. I can’t go yet—Mr. Up is still
fantasy, so I just growl a little.
After the two of us,
I think SHE’D be the one limping, Jimbo—after
neither of us
are currently laying pipe anywhere but our own showers.”
grunts a little in return,
acknowledging without admitting and for a moment we
sit there in the
semidarkness of the bar. I know he’s hard, and he knows
we’re not discussing it.
one of those guy things.
I sigh and make it a point not
to look at him, even though I can see his profile.
painfully handsome at times; a hell of a lot better looking than I
ever HAD a threeway?” I
demand. He blinks a little, mouth smiling as he runs a
That one’s not in my
repertoire,” he looks at me. “How about
pause, knowing full well I could spin
a web of bullshit right now and Jimmy would
never know how much was
true and how much wasn’t, but my heart’s not in it.
remembering Cuddles’ cool hand on my burning cheek, the
in her eyes . . .
Hard enough with a one-on-one
most of the time.”
to that,” Jimmy agrees and I
feel a little of the tightness in my chest start to
say anything for a couple of minutes, and I find myself wondering if
actually could handle trading off with Jimmy.
more athletic, I’ll give him
that, and probably has a slightly faster recuperation, but
the edge with a better capacity for concentration, and staying power.
slightly bigger schlong.
if it WERE to ever happen—“
I offer cautiously now, keeping my voice low.
Jimmy tips his head up,
looking towards the ceiling and I can’t quite tell if
or exasperated, so I keep talking. “—Then
I suppose we
COULD make a hell of a tag
course. You could pass the
condoms out, and I could make up for your
glare at him, wishing like hell I’D
said that; Jimmy looks at me and flashes a smile, his
REAL one this time and right then and there I forgive the
bastard. He laughs softly, and begins to get up.
on, Greg, it’s late. Both of
us are going to be a little hung over tomorrow. Go
sleep it off and I‘ll see you in the morning.”
get up, a little stiff in more ways
than one, and brace myself with the cane. The drugs
have filed off
the edge of pain and I’m not as bad off as I might have been.
wallet and pay—damn it, I’m really off my
game if I’m
falls into step beside me as we
walk out of the bar; the chill is refreshing after the
closeness inside. I take a deep breath.
set us up, you know.”
know,” Jimmy sighs.
day we’ll have to return the
favor,” I add. Jimmy claps my shoulder laughing
softly as he
for his car.
tales can come true—“ he
snorts, and heads off into the darkness while I fish my
keys out and
think again about Cuddles, naked. About screwing her while
watches us. About watching Jimmy do the same. It’s shockingly
sweet, and I’m a little surprised at how arousing the images
how intimate and powerful.
I’m not gay. I’ve never had
any attraction to men in a sexual sense; I’ve seen
in my line of work to know I’m firmly, nay, rigidly het. But
thought watching my best friend make love—my two best friends
making love—and being a
PART of that---
they WANT me there--
it. I pull up my collar; it’s
going to be a long night.