More Wild West

The Visitor Has Company The Visitor Saga finale“Let me see,” sighed Lea, licking the index finger of her right hand as she ran the left one up Sean’s bicep and down Andy’s. “However shall I choose which of you I should marry?” Both men moaned. Lea giggled. She didn’t giggle very often, but this called for it. They were back to back, sitting, each handcuffed to the legs of the other’s chair. Naked. Each sporting a dark red erection, the tip of which glistened with pre-c*m. “Oh, gentlemen, you can’t hurry a lady. And after all,” she said, letting both hands flow down over their chests, stopping just short of their very emphatic hard-ons, “you did ask for this.” Both men whimpered. Well, they hadn’t exactly asked for this — they’d asked her to decide which side of their triangle would be the one to become official. And gay marriage wasn’t legal in Georgia yet (though it was clearly just a matter of time), and so it was up to Lea to choose: Andy or Sean? Only Lea didn’t want to choose. Didn’t see why they had to choose. And so she’d agreed to consider it only if they made themselves completely available for her delight. Which they’d done. And so, for the past two hours, she’d been slowly teasing them — with her fingers, with her mouth, with the strapon they each loved her to use on him. All while slowly discussing the relative merits of each choice. Which really wasn’t a choice. She wanted them both, always. When they’d originally proposed to her, back at the beginning of the summer, it had been a way to keep Andy’s family from finding out just what the three of them were up to. Sean had gotten down on one knee and asked her to marry Andy, for f**k’s sake. Andy had asked her to marry Sean. Or to wear the diamond ring as a sign of a promise between the two men. But Andy’s family had seen through the charade quickly enough. Lea could still barely talk to Andy’s mom, Nadine, or to his sister Jessie. The whole getting married thing — what was the point? She got down on her own knees, letting her fingertips brush the insides of their thighs. Andy twitched; Sean moaned. Lea’s Tantra-loving, West Coast parents would probably be more concerned with the idea of Lea staying in Georgia than with the idea of her shacking up with two guys. Probably. And Kirsten—Sean’s sister already knew all about it. Well, most about it. Lea’s fingers traced lines up the insides of the far legs, evoking twin shivers. Not Violet. Not Sean and Kirsten’s mother, whose ring Lea was wearing on her left hand. Lea loved Violet; her disappointment was actually the thing that Lea was most afraid of — that the very proper, very traditional Atlanta kindergarten teacher would be disgusted by the choices that her son and his lovers had made. That Violet would blame the whole thing on Lea. Which struck Lea as not just terrifying but blatantly unfair. It wasn’t like she’d asked for things to turn out the way that they had. Exactly. Shitty-s**t-s**t. Tilting her head to one side and then the other, Lea admired the two lovely p*****s that were at her beck and call. She let her fingers run over their balls, which jumped, and then, for the first time since she had closed the handcuffs on them two hours before, she circled the bases of those two lovely p*****s, squeezing every so slightly as she let her hands stroke up — “I’ll tell you what, boys.” — and down. Sean sounded as if he were trying to say What?, while Andy simply gibbered. “I’ll tell you what,” she said again — again with an up-stroke. “The one of you who can keep from coming the longest is the one I’ll marry.” They both gasped; both set their jaws in determination, closing their eyes. Okay, thought Lea with grin, this might be fun. And she began to give them the lightest, slowest handjob that she could. She leaned forward to lick the crevice between their elbows and — And the doorbell rang. Shitty-s**t-s**t! “Um. Hold on a minute! Be right there!” Could it be Lorelle from downstairs, requesting that we be less quiet? Lea stood, grabbing her silk robe from where she’d let it pool to the floor. The bell rang again. The two men — firemen, after all — had managed to uncuff themselves and were pulling jeans up over their still-dripping erections. “Sorry, guys,” she whispered, giving each c**k a quick tug and then pulling her robe shut. “Coming!” “I wish,” one of the guys muttered, which unfortunately struck Lea as amusing, and so she was giggling again as she opened the door and — And was greeted by a weeping Kirsten. “Oh, Lea!” “Kirsten! What…? You’re here.” It was a stupid thing to say but as much as Lea could manage. The last time they’d talked, just a few days before, Kirsten had been in San Francisco. “Gianna got m-married,” sobbed Kirsten, face blotchy, “and it wasn’t to me!” “Aw, s**t,” sighed Sean as his sister threw her arms around Lea and wailed. Andy just grunted. Like Lea they knew that Gianna had been vacillating between her ex-boyfriend and Kirsten. Like Lea, they’d seen this coming for months. Kirsten clearly hadn’t, though. Lea patted her best friend on the back. “I’m so sorry, Kirsten.” “Feel stupid.” “I bet.” Sean put a big hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Want me’n’Andy to go beat her up?” Lifting her head, Kirsten blinked up at her brother and then snorted. “No beating up Gianna!” She turned in Lea’s hug and threw her arms around Sean and then Andy. “Gawd! The two of y’all make me look like a f*****g midget. You’d crush Gianna like a grape!” “For making you cry like that?” said Andy, patting Kirsten on the back awkwardly. “Least we could do.” Kirsten pushed up on her tiptoes, kissing Andy’s cheek, when her stomach growled. “You eat anything at all today, Kiki?” Sean asked, running his fingers through his sister’s hair. Kirsten shot him an embarrassed smirk. “Naw. Been kind of upset.” Her stomach gurgled again. “Yeah,” laughed Sean. “I guess. Want some eggs or something?” When Kirsten nodded, Sean and Andy wandered over to the kitchen and began preparing a meal for her. Lea was admiring their shapes, admiring the way they worked so smoothly together, when her friend sighed, “Sorry, Lea-honey.” “Sorry?” “Y’all were… playing, weren’t you.” Lea blinked at her friend and then at the room — the two chairs, still back-to-back, each with a pair of handcuffs dangling… The strap-on hanging from a cupboard handle. Lube. Condoms. “Um. No big deal.” “Uh-huh, right.” It was reassuring to see Kirsten’s habitual smirk back in place. “We’ll survive. So Giannaa and what’s-his-name got married?” The smirk melted. Kirsten nodded and pulled out her phone. On it was a text from that morning that read, “K, we’re in Reno. We eloped. Forgive me.” There was a picture of Gianna and man who resembled her brother than anything — dark, small, slight. They were standing in front what looked like a motel, but bore a heart-shaped neon sign reading Temple of Venus Tatoo Parlor and Wedding Chapel. Both were smiling maniacally. “Well… Fuck.” The end of Kirsten and Gianna’s relationship had been looming for months, but this seemed needlessly cruel. “Sure you don’t want Sean and Andy to go break their kneecaps?” Kirsten’s smirk returned — a bit soggier, but back, at least. “Naw. Well. Not tonight, anyways.” She rested her head on Lea’s shoulder. “Thing is, I knew she was leaving — was gone already, really. Still. Kind of kicked me in the t**s, you know?” Lea gave her a hug. “Don’t blame you, Kiki,” said Sean, carrying to the table a steaming plate of scrambled eggs and some of the home fries they’d had left over from dinner. Andy carried a bottle of Jack Daniels and four glasses. “I’d’ve wanted to get out of there too.” “Yeah,” sighed Kirsten, sitting down and tucking in. “But I bet you wouldn’t’ve hung around so long. I feel so f*****g stupid.” “Hey,” said Sean, “no one gets to call my sister stupid. Except me.” Kirsten flicked a bit of fried onion at him, and he snickered, picking up one of the tumblers that Andy had set out. He lifted it in a toast: “To the return of the Prodigal Sister — who is not stupid, no matter what anyone says.” They all laughed and raised their glasses. After she’d eaten a bit — and drunk a bit — Kirsten shook her head. “I guess… I feel stupid ‘cause this managed to catch me by surprise. But also ‘cause I jumped on a plane and only thought about the fact that I couldn’t exactly go home and cry on Mama’s shoulder when I was half-way here.” “I wondered why we’d rated a cross-country visit,” Lea said, swirling her whiskey in her glass. “I mean, it’s wonderful to see you and you’re always welcome, and we’re glad to help, but, yeah. I guess I’d have expected you to head home, if anywhere.” Sean reached out and took his sister’s hand. “And you could’ve talked to Mama.” “Uh-huh. And have you been discussing the details of y’alls sleeping arrangements with her?” With her glass, Kirsten indicated Lea, Andy, and the never-closed pull-out the three of them had been making such energetic use of since the spring. When Sean shook his head a bit sheepishly, Kirsten grumbled, “Didn’t think so.” “Don’t blame you,” Andy chuckled. “I mean, my folks finding out was pretty awful. But your ma? She’s scary.” That made Lea laugh. “Violet isn’t scary!” When that statement was met by three skeptical faces, Lea shrugged. “I mean, I can see that you wouldn’t want to… disappoint her.” “Yeah,” smirked Kristen. “Lea-honey, I bet you haven’t exactly been looking forward to explaining to her just what you and your fiancé here have been getting up to with Mama’s Sir Galahad of a son.” “Galahad?“ said Sean, a look of outrage on his face. “Wasn’t he, like, a virgin and s**t? Nuh-uh. No. Not even Mama thinks I’m that. Besides, Lea’s my fiancée too. So’s Andy.” He grabbed both of their hands, and Lea found her middle warming for reasons other than the bourbon. “Exactly,” said Kirsten, glowering. “House we grew up in was so f*****g straight, we never even heard of such a thing as being queer. Let alone AC/DC like me and you turned out, Sean. Mama’d blow a gasket.” Brows bowed, Sean murmured, “I think Papa’d be the one who’d really blow.” “Don’t remember. Just remember when he’d left.” Kirsten frowned and Lea reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand with her free one, linking the four of them. “Anyway, Sean, Mama had no clue. Remember her favorite bands?” Sean gave a surprised snort. “Queen. And Village People.” “Yeah, ain’t that something,” chuckled Kirsten. “She thought the Village People were such nice men!“ She said this last in such a demure, Violet-like drawl that all four of them burst out laughing. Well. The accent was part of it; the image of Violet O’Connell, Kindergarten Teacher and Southern Matron, watching those under-dressed men performing “YMCA” or “Macho Man” was more than even Lea’s fairly broad mind could encompass. After they’d laughed and drunk some more (and then talked some more, and drunk some more), and Kirsten had finished her “breakfast,” Sean stood and kissed his sister on the top of her head. “You okay, Sis?” “Okay, Big Bro.” Kirsten squeezed his hand. “Why don’t you guys go, uh, finish what I interrupted. Or, you know, I can go for a — “ “No, I’ll stay out here with you, K,” Lea said. “These guys are tired, aren’t you, boys?” Sean and Andy glanced quickly at each other, then back to Lea and Kirsten. Together they both nodded, and Sean gave a not-very-convincing yawn. “Uh-huh.” “Yeah,” said Andy, “we’ve got work tomorrow. Tomorrow evening.” “G’night, Sis,” said Sean, ruffling her hair with another kiss. The two men shuffled back to Andy’s bedroom. Lea watched them wistfully. The boys hadn’t had a night alone in the apartment since the theater season had closed the previous spring. She wished… Kirsten sniffled, and Lea put her arms around her friend. With a sigh, Kirsten said, “They’re gonna boff, aren’t they.”