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She lifts an eyebrow. “We?”
I reach out and brush one of her dark curls behind her ear. “Well, I’m not just gonna let him have you all to himself,” I murmur, “You’re still my girl.”
My hand rests on her cheek and she leans into the touch a little, closing her eyes for a moment. I shift my gaze to Forrest, and while he still looks shocked, he looks…interested. And when Aly’s warm brown eyes open again, I see an eagerness deep within that tells me the idea appeals to her, too.
It’s a crazy fucking suggestion, and as it settles on me that this might actually come to pass, the weight of what I’ve proposed really sinks in. That voyeuristic side of me had opened my mouth before the rest of my brain had gotten the chance to catch up, and now it’s really hitting me.
I might actually be having a threesome with my fiancé and my ex-boyfriend, for the purposes of him getting her pregnant.
Fortunately, the doorbell rings at that moment. “That was quick,” Aly remarks, getting to her feet.
I can still see the redness in her cheeks, and I don’t miss the way she’s breathing just a little faster. But she hurries to the door to greet our delivery driver and comes back with several bags of food and carefully balancing a drink carrier.
Forrest and I spring up to help her, and the three of us carry everything to the dining room, spreading things out on the table and distributing everyone’s orders and drinks, passing out silverware, and settling in to eat.
We’re quiet as we eat, and I think all of us are still processing my proposal, until finally Aly sets her fork down. “I think if we’re going to do something like this, we need to set some ground rules.” She blurts out.
Forrest freezes, his fork halfway to his mouth with a bite of food. Slowly, he lowers it and clears his throat. “Um, like what?” he asks hesitantly.
“Like this is only a three-way arrangement, we only…do stuff when all three of us are present,” she begins.
He nods, and so do I. It’s a reasonable request, and one I’m grateful for. While the idea of watching the two of them might have my dick slowly swelling in my trousers, the same cannot be said for the thought of them sneaking around behind my back.
The three of us discuss more ground rules while we eat, laying boundaries in place and even coming up with a set of safe words in case anything becomes too much.
But once the conversation, and dinner, are over, we all fall a little silent and awkward, not quite sure where to take things next. Finally, Forrest clears his throat. “So, um…when do we want to give this a try? Do you guys have like a calendar to track for the best part in the um,” he looks a little shyly at Aly before tentatively finishing with “cycle?”
Aly giggles a little. “Guys are weird, you guys can say ‘boner’ and ‘sperm’ without batting an eyelash, but when it comes to periods and ovulation and stuff, you go all teenager.”
“I’m just trying to be tactful,” Forrest argues, “I don’t know how to have polite conversations about this shit.”
All of us laugh, and it eases some of the tension. “I actually have a tracker app for my period, and it kind of tells me when I should be ovulating,” Aly explains, reaching for her phone and tapping at the screen.
Her smile slowly melts away when she sees what’s in front of her. She clears her throat. “Well, um, according to this…tonight would be a pretty good time to start,” she says, turning the phone to me.
She’s shown me the app before, and explained how it works, and I see that she’s right. And the thing tracks everything else pretty well, so I’m inclined to believe it.
“Seems like it was meant to be,” I remark.
She glances at me, searching my face, and slowly smiles. “Yeah…guess so,” she turns to Forrest, “That is, if you really want to do this.”
Forrest blushes. “I mean, I’d have to be crazy to complain.”
“Or, you know…not straight,” she adds, “We’ve never really talked about where you fell on the spectrum.”
It’s an interesting point. I mean, I’d seen Forrest looking at her and figured he was bi like I was, but since I’d been his first real relationship and we haven’t really discussed his relationship history since me, I have no idea if he’s been with men, women, or both.
He simply shrugs. “I’m attracted to people, not parts, I guess?” he says, “I don’t know, there’s like a million labels nowadays, but I’m somewhere in that whole bisexual-slash-pansexual arena or whatever.”
I nod in understanding. I’ve always felt much the same, myself, a little overwhelmed by the whole messes of labels and the overlap between them. But I’ve found that bi seems to be the most readily understood and accepted, and it’s just the simplest way to identify to anyone who asks.
“Well, then, if everyone’s on board,” I suggest, “and tonight is the night…maybe we should take this little party upstairs?”
