Chapter 38

"So, Stan, you think you're up to looking after two women's needs, 
again?"

Stan snorted. "Not if it's going to be like last night all the time, Denise. 
I'll have to hire in help!"

"Yeah, right. Try it and see where it gets you. Although..."

Stan stuck his tongue out at Denise, who blew a raspberry in return. 
They both laughed at one another.

They were sitting at Stan's breakfast bar drinking coffee. Denise had 
brought in some cereal, and they were both eating a bowlful. Last 
night had been, well, tiring for Stan, but enormous fun and yet deeply 
emotional, too. Denise had been hurting, and Stan had done his best 
to relieve that hurt. He grinned. He thought he'd relieved it multiple 
times...

But now they had to go to work. Stan got up, grabbed the bowls, cups 
and cutlery and quickly washed them up. With two women to please, 
he'd quickly found that keeping the place tidy was preferable to having 
both of the women in his life jabbering at his ear. Denise wiped them 
dry and Stan put them away. He turned to see Denise regarding him 
with a smile, then she leaned in and gave him a kiss.

"Good boy," she told him. Stan grinned back.

"So," she said as they put their coats on, "Anne on for tonight?"

"Yes, provided she's not working so late she decides not to bother."

Denise looked at him, carefully.

"Stan? Are you all right with what Anne's doing?"

"Yes. No. Well, yes, I understand that she's working a lot, but what I 
don't see is why."

"Hmm?" she asked him as they went out of the front door.

"I mean, I know she's got a project she's overseeing at work, but, 
well, the other project managers don't seem to have to put in the 
hours Anne is, especially at home," he answered, locking the door.

"So do you think there's something wrong?"

"With her project? I don't think so, the other people in her team aren't 
miserable enough."

Denise smiled and said "No, she'd be making their lives hell if it wasn't 
going right. I guess we'll have to ask her?"

"Ask Anne? Just like that?"

"Got a better idea?"

Since Stan didn't, he kept silent. He just wasn't sure he wanted to ask 
a bald question like that of Anne.

Later that morning Stan went to see Anne. He found her busy at work 
as usual, along with her staff. 

"Hi Anne! How are you today?"

Anne turned to look at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark 
circles around her eyes. She looked sallow, drained, but there was a 
fire in the core that was not only hot, but hotter. Anne was doing what 
she did, working flat out with a goal in mind, Stan knew, and was well 
on top of it. He just didn't know what it was.

"Oh, Stan, hi, love. I'm fine, and you?"

"I feel better than you look, Anne. You look shattered. You're working 
too hard. Coming over tonight?"

"I'll try to, Stan, I really will. I should be over for about nine o'clock, I 
expect. Will that be okay?"

Stan smiled and said, "Of course, Anne. I'll look forward to seeing you 
then."

In the event, it was half past eight that night when Stan got a call 
from a distracted sounding Anne.

'Stan? It's Anne. Look, I won't be able to make it tonight after all."

"Anne, are you sure?"

"Yes, Stan. I'm sorry, but I really have to concentrate on this for a bit 
longer tonight. Sorry"

"Well, okay, love. I'll order an Indian meal and mope all alone without 
you. Just joking!"

He wasn't entirely joking. Anne knew that.

"Oh, Stan. I'm really sorry, but I can't leave, I just can't. I can't even 
explain why, just now, but I will soon, I promise."

"All right, Anne. But I'll hold you to that. I love you Anne, and it's hard 
for me to watch you run yourself into the ground like this. If you say 
you're all right, I'll go along with that. For now."

"All right Stan. I love you. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

- - - - - - - - - -
Denise came over and once more offered to cook for Stan the next 
night, but Stan demurred, taking her out to a quiet restaurant to eat 
instead. They enjoyed their time together, then went back to Stan's 
place.

Stan let Denise in and followed. He watched as she took off her coat 
and without pause continued by undoing the buttons on her blouse.

"Stan, you're going to catch flies like that!" she chided him, and he 
quickly tried to catch up. Then he stopped.

"Stan?"

"Denise, I'm just spellbound. I just want to watch you."

Denise had the last button in her hand, her lacy bra in plain sight, the 
breasts that Stan loved to see, so much, barely confined. She looked 
at him, undid the button and spread her arms wide.

"You do say the nicest things, Stan. Have you been practising?" she 
asked him with a lopsided grin.

Stan replied by simply moving forward, engulfing her in his arms, 
drawing her in tight and kissing her, hard. His hand trailed down to her 
ass, pulling her into him there, and she ground her crotch against his. 
Their kiss grew even more passionate and then Stan, realising that he 
wasn't going to rise to the occasion, pulled away, looking down.

Denise lifted his chin with one finger. "Stan?"

"I'm sorry Denise. I-I just can't."

He was stricken when she threw her head back and laughed for a 
moment, but then she sobered and said, "Stan, I'm not laughing at 
that, I'm laughing at your face! You look as guilty as a little boy caught 
with his hand in the sweet tin! C'mon, let's go sit down for a minute or 
two."

She took his hand and led him into his living room. Stan followed, 
unresisting, but he couldn't help the flush of embarrassment and guilt 
that he was feeling. Denise dropped down on the sofa and drew Stan 
down next to her, then turned to face him.

"Stan. Don't worry so! You're a man in your forties, you're not exactly 
super-fit, though I have to say you look pretty darn good in 
comparison with some of the guys at work! We've both had some 
drinks tonight, which is why we agreed to take a taxi - and you're 
surprised when, once in a while, you have a problem? I know you love 
me, just as much as you love Anne, and having sex isn't all there is to 
love, is it Stan? C'mon, we've both - actually, we've all three - read 
many of the same books. What was it? 'Love is what goes on when 
you're not having sex'."

Stan's lips curled up slightly into a semblance of a smile. "I thought it 
was 'Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is 
essential to your own'. But that's my point, I want you to be happy, to 
make you happy, and I couldn't. Can't," he finished, looking down.

"Dope! How many times have you made love this week?"

"Last seven days? I lost count," he replied.

"There you go! How many men your age could make that boast?"

Stan smiled at his redheaded companion, beginning to see the humour 
in the situation. "I told you I'd have to hire in help," he teased, and 
she elbowed him in the ribs.

"Not bloody likely. Take me to bed, we'll cuddle and go to sleep and 
let's see what comes up in the morning!"

Stan woke up to find the room still dark, but a warm, wet, wonderful 
feeling on his cock. He reached down and lightly ran his fingers over 
Denise's face as she sucked and massaged him, stroking with her 
hand. He was hard, and Denise lifted off his dick long enough to say 
"Look what came up..." before dropping her head down again, slowly, 
teasingly taking him deeper than he'd known her do before. She pulled 
back again, with a slight gasp, and told him "I wish I could deep throat 
you, Stan, but I can't. I'd so love to, but I think I can still please you - 
and me, I love giving head!"

Stan continued to run his fingers around her face, sometimes running 
her hair through his fingers, as Denise built him up and held him just 
short of release. She held the base of his penis tight until he was 
better in control and once more resumed her lovemaking. Over the 
next several minutes she did this again before finally she kept him 
going, sucking, swirling her tongue, drilling it into his prick and 
working him with her hand in earnest. She felt his penis swell and took 
just the head into her mouth. Stan gasped as his climax arrived, 
feeling it draw from his toes and fingertips, through his balls and 
finally surge into Denise's mouth. She made a small cry at the first 
spurt but she kept sucking lightly, now avoiding his oh-so-sensitive 
head.

When he'd completely finished cumming and started to soften Denise 
cleaned him with her talented mouth and tongue before crawling up 
his body and kissing him. He felt her pass a little of his cum to him in 
the kiss and was startled for a moment, but then kissed her deeper - 
it was an act of love, meant that way and received that way. Finally 
she rolled off him, and the two of them lay next to one another. 
Denise rubbed her jaw muscles with the fingers of one hand.

She turned to him and asked, "Enjoy?"

"Like you need to ask!" he got out. He knew he was smiling, though 
Denise wouldn't see that very easily in the near dark.

"I guess! Well, when you've got yourself back together, how about a 
return game?

"Happily, my love!" he told her.

Many minutes later Stan had used his mouth, tongue and hands to 
drive Denise to two orgasms of her own before she pushed him off, 
saying "Stop, Stan, I can't take it, stop, stop..."

It was his turn to crawl up beside her, and he kissed her. She kissed 
him back through the aftershocks, and afterwards he realized that he'd 
done the same to her as she had to him - she'd tasted herself. He 
asked her, "You okay with that, Denise?"

"You think I've never tasted pussy before, Stan?" she asked with a 
smirk he could hear, even if he couldn't see it properly.

"Well, yes, but your own?"

She took his hand and dipped his finger down. She gingerly passed it 
through her pussy lips and pulled it back up to her mouth, sucking it 
in.

"There's nothing objectionable there, Stan. I love the taste of pussy, 
mine or someone else's. You do, too."

"Hmm. You're right, I do."

"Pig!" she told him, but her hand on his face was gentle, and she 
kissed him again, this time with gentle love rather than raw passion. 
"We'd better get to sleep, Stan."

Stan groaned, but he knew the truth of it. Denise rolled over so she 
was spooning against him, and he put his arm over her, resting it on 
her abdomen. Within minutes they were both, once more, asleep.

- - - - - - - - - -

The next morning was a Saturday. Stan and Denise had enjoyed a lie-
in and were just finishing breakfast when his phone rang.

"Hello, Stan, it's Anne. Is Denise with you?"

"Hello and good morning, Anne. Yes, she is, why?" 

"I think I need to speak to both of you. Meet me for lunch?"

"Certainly, Anne, Where?"

"Could you both come here? It'd be easier."

Stan grinned, even though he knew Anne wouldn't know.

"Chinese takeaway for three, then."

"Oh, you! But yes, you're right, some sort of delivered food would 
probably be best. If you don't mind?"

"No, that's okay. When do you want us over?"

"Give me a couple of hours, please?"

"Okay. Denise and I will pick up some food. Anything in particular you 
want?"

"As long as it's hot and got calories, I'll eat. I'm starving already!"

"See you then. Bye, love."

"Bye, Stan. I love you too." She broke the connection.

Stan looked over at an amused Denise.

"She wants us over there for lunch or dinner?"

"Lunch, Denise. In a couple of hours."

- - - - - - - - - -

Two hours later Stan was walking up Anne's path to her home, Denise 
following behind. He was carrying enough Chinese food to feed four. 
Anne had sounded hungry.

He rang the doorbell and waited a moment, then the door was opened 
by an exhausted but happy looking Anne.

"Come in, come in!" she said, and Stan followed Denise into Anne's 
house.

There wasn't really room for three in Anne's little kitchen, not without 
bumping elbows anyway, so Stan was sent into her lounge. He was 
once more idly picking through her bookshelves when Denise bustled 
in with a plateful of food and some cutlery. She put it on Anne's coffee 
table and said, "Wait a minute - we won't be long!" before returning to 
the kitchen.

Stan looked around. The room wasn't exactly untidy, just not quite to 
Anne's usual standard. There were a couple of coffee mugs over by 
Anne's usual chair, and a pizza box was propped up in the corner. Stan 
frowned. Anne was normally too precise to leave things like that lying 
around.

Eventually it seemed to Stan that his lovers were never coming back 
He sat down on the small sofa and looked longingly at the food. Just 
then Anne came in, a piece of chicken already in her mouth, with 
Denise trailing in close behind her. Once the food was set in front of 
them the three set to with gusto, none more so than a ravenous 
seeming Anne.

In between bites of food they talked, mostly inconsequential stuff.

But not for long.

"Well, what do we think of this alternate days thing?" Stan asked.

"I think it's good!" answered Anne, hastily swallowing a pork ball. "I 
just wish I could do it."

"Well, if you didn't work all day and all night you probably could, my 
love." Stan told her.

"That's okay, Stan, I can take the days that Anne can't." interjected 
Denise. Anne did not look too happy about the idea.

Stan noticed. "Anne? Something wrong?"

Anne looked a little afraid, as if she'd been caught. "Huh?" Then her 
face went blank for a moment before her brow furrowed. She said, 
"Look, we're supposed to be as open with each other as possible, 
yes?" The others nodded. "Well, I'm not entirely comfortable with 
Denise simply 'taking' the days when I can't come over to Stan's. I 
know it's silly, and irrational, and believe me no-one hates that more 
than I do, but it's actually what I'm feeling."

Denise put down her cutlery and reached over, taking Anne's hand. 
"Honey, I'm not trying to take your place. Honestly I'm not. I'm just 
trying to look after our man."

"I know, Denise. I never said it was sensible, I said it was irrational. 
That doesn't stop me feeling it."

Denise smiled. "Well, what do you suggest, Anne? Do we give Stan 
time off for good behaviour while you're too busy, or too tired?"

But Anne flew. "Now, hang on a minute, Denise! I tried to say it plainly 
and diplomatically. I never said we should leave him alone, just that I 
don't think you should simply assume you can take over!"

Stan looked at the two most important women in his new life and 
closed his eyes. He imagined Caron looking at him, waving a finger, 
saying 'You got yourself into this, you know!' He shook his head to 
clear it.

"Look, you two, stop!" Both ladies turned to look at him. Anne looked 
a bit surprised at Stan asserting himself, Denise looked slightly 
amused.

"I don't need pampering six or seven days a week, and I'm not sure I 
can keep up the pace with both of you after my body all the time!" He 
smiled to take the sting out of his words, and lowered his voice to a 
more normal level. "That doesn't mean I don't enjoy your company, of 
course, and I sure as hell enjoy the sex! But I'm not entirely sure even 
a teenager could keep up with the pace you two would like to set! 
Take it easy."

Denise had relinquished her grip on Anne's hand, so now Stan reached 
out and took one of each in his own.

"I love you both to death, but you'll kill me if you act like this, 
darlings. Please, let's not bicker?"

He turned first to Denise. "Denise, I'd love to have you come over, 
whenever you like, but it's not fair to simply assume that if Anne's not 
here you should be. You know better than that, anyway. 
Communicate. Ask Anne how she's feeling, first, maybe."

"And you, Anne," he continued, turning to her, "it's not like you to fly 
off the handle like that, love. You're tired, I know. Take a deep breath. 
You did the right thing to bring up your fears like that." He looked 
closely at her. Apart from a pair of delightful red spots high up on her 
cheek as she blushed, Anne looked pale, drawn, exhausted.

Stan was more and more intrigued about Anne. She was busy enough 
to be doing two jobs. In fact...

"Okay, Anne. What's the deal? Aside from the fact that we've hardly 
seen you for a week, what's got you so busy-busy all the time?"

"Hmmph," she replied around a mouthful. She swallowed hastily, and 
breathed in to cool her mouth. "I was telling Denise out in the kitchen 
that I was missing the both of you. Well, now I'm going to tell you 
why. It's what I wanted to talk to you about, anyway."

She leaned forward and looked at both of them.

"I was contacted a little while back by my old tutor and mentor, Sid. 
You remember him, Stan?"

"Of course. What did he want?"

"My brains. He's come up with an idea and thinks I can help him. If it 
comes off, it could be big. Big enough that I might go and work for 
him, and leave The Firm."

- - - - - - - - - -