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Willa
Itake my time in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. Surely something has changed in my appearance after such a momentous night. But I don’t see any signs of age or wisdom, and there certainly isn’t a stamp on my forehead reading ‘dirty birdy’.
Nothing we did felt particularly dirty, though. It was hot as fuck; I’ve never been more ready and wet in my life. Nor have I ever come so easily. Not even close. Yet not once did it feel scandalous. Watching Damian swallow Zan down was beautiful, not lewd. And how he held me the whole time was sweet and inclusive. I wasn’t on the outside looking in, I was there with them.
Something about Damian has leveled the awkwardness Zan and I have always had with each other. We’re no longer carefully tiptoeing around one another in whatever weird dance we’ve been performing for years. Like he’s keyed us into his rhythm and now we’re all in sync.
I like it here with them. But I’m also weary about getting ahead of myself, or getting too attached to them both when this is all so new for them. It can lead down so many paths and far too many of them leave me heartbroken. Remembering how that was for Isla, I don’t ever want to experience it. While I won’t run from the possibilities this new relationship has, I need to be smart and not let my body, and those amazing fucking orgasms, take the lead.
Dampening two washcloths, I return to the men, handing one to each. They showed such concern for me, the least I can do is help them clean themselves up.
“I didn’t know if you wanted showers, or if this will do.”
“I’m too exhausted to move again,” Zander says. “This is perfect, thank you.”
When they’re finished, I’m invited to crawl in between them on the bed, facing Zan with Damian spooning me from behind.
“Are you good,” I ask him, craning my neck to see him.
“I’m great,” he says, pressing a kiss to my lips.
“Good.” I snuggle in a little more. “How about you, big guy? You still have a bruise on your hip, does it hurt?” I noticed it last night, but that’s not unexpected with his career. Honestly, I’d expect more.
“It’s fine, not anything new.”
I yawn as sleep creeps in quickly. “You know you guys can fuck my ass instead of each other’s. I know it’s not the same. I’m just saying, the option is there.”
I fall asleep to their soft laughter.
“Oh, that’s beautiful on you,” Kit says when I step out of the dressing room in the Marchesa gown.
“It fits you perfectly, too,” Isla agrees.
A shopping trip was needed since I have nothing to wear to this charity gala with Zander. The theme is the Blade’s colors, black, white, and silver. All the wives and girlfriends have decided to go in silver dresses. I’m not technically a WAG, but I’m playing along for Zan’s sake. Finding a silver dress worthy of the occasion on such short notice is trying at best.
This dress is a dream with its simple silhouette and plunging neckline. I’m busty enough that though the dress itself is quite classy, my shape gives it a nice provocative edge. If I must get glammed up, I want to go all out, since it is a rare occasion for me.
“But the price is a big oof,” I tell them. I’d have to dig into my savings or use the credit card Dad insists I keep for days like this. Neither option is my favorite choice.
“Say yes to the dress, Willa. It’s on me.”
“No, Isla. I don’t want you to do that for me,” I argue.
“You can pay it forward by helping thousands of people when you’re a hotshot head of a women’s center someday.”
“My chosen career path is never going to pay me Marchesa gown type of money.” It won’t come anywhere close.
“It’s not about the money, Willa,” she says. “Let me spoil you for once.”
Looking in the mirror, I take in how magnificent my ass looks in the dress and succumb.
“Once, and once only,” I agree.
“If you find me sitting in your closet, staring up at it, and dreaming of the day I have a reason to wear such a divine garment… no, you didn’t,” Kit says.
“Well, I hope you find a reason to borrow it. Something this pretty should be shown off more than once.”
“So, how serious is it with you and Zan,” Isla asks after the dress is purchased and we cross the street to a small French bistro that isn’t very crowded, thanks to it being a weekday evening.
