The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for adults in locations in which it is
legal.  If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT read.  This is a copyrighted work.  Reposting or
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except may be posted as part of a review or posted to free-access, noncommercial archive sites. 

Copyright 1998, 1999 by E. Z. Riter.

Please!  Give me your comments.
 
E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com

Dear Reader: This is a romance with little sex and no violence.  It does have a plot and humor. 
It's essentially the same story posted last year under this title.  I made changes improving the
dialogue, story flow and editing.  My thanks to the wonderful, literate women who were my
coaches.  E.Z.


SHARING

Fresh from the gym, I sauntered down the breeze way toward Marcia's two bedroom apartment.  I
arrived at six thirty as instructed.  I expected to find a home cooked dinner and a special woman
waiting to make love to me.  

Divorced and forty-one, Marcia is a self-confident, successful woman whose pleasure I've shared
for over a year. She has a lovely body, although she'll tell you her waist is a little big or her
thighs a little full.  I think of her as lush and feminine.  I love the way she looks, the way she
feels in my arms. Our relationship is delightful.  We joyfully share many common interests.  She
is a woman I can talk to and have fun with and be myself with.  

From my perspective and from hers, we had only one problem.  

Sex.  That was our problem.

I wanted lots of sex, at least once a day.  She enjoyed it twice a week.  She tried hard to never
disappoint me, having sex constantly if I asked.  But I try to be sensitive to my woman and her
needs.  If we had sex twice a week, she was hot, demanding, and eager, enjoying it much more. 
That meant I enjoyed those times more, too.  

She called it "the problem."  It was a typical problem for couples everywhere. Our libidos were
different.  That's all.

Knowing I was coming over, she usually hurried home from work to "pretty up," as she calls it.
That's why I was surprised to find her in jeans, a sweat shirt and a funny expression.  Something
was amiss as she kissed me gently when she let me in.   Silently, we held hands as she led me to
the couch.  

"What's wrong?" I asked as we faced each other. 

"I love you, Jack.  I love you very much.  I know you love me, too, in your own way." 

I didn't respond, but waited to see where her train of thought was going. 

"No matter what happened between us, even if I married someone else, you'd always be there for
me.  Anytime I needed you.  For the rest of my life. You'd do anything for me, wouldn't you?" 

"Yes."

She smiled knowingly. 

"Except marry me."

Her tone was quiet, but it was the tone which chills men's souls - like the sound of a tiger's
footfall before it leaps.  I froze.  My head spun for an instant.  The adrenalin blew out of my
glands like water from a fireman's hose.  Something big was coming. 

"That doesn't bother me, Jack.  It's okay we won't marry.  I was married to Bill a long time and
I'm happy being single. I have children, friends here at the apartment and at work and church. 
There are worse things than being single.  I have a man - a strong, wonderful, sweet, virile man -
as much as I want a man, maybe a little more than I want sometimes."

She laughed self-consciously as she rubbed my forearm with her fingers to let me know she
cared. She snuggled up against me, laying her open hand on my chest, slipping her fingertips
between the buttons of my shirt to touch my bare skin. 

"What does bother me - maybe frighten is a better word - is that I might lose you, that some other
woman will sneak you away."

"Marcia, don't worry about that. I..."

"But I do worry.  'The problem' is what worries me.  You're a very good man, but your desires
are stronger than mine. What if you find someone else?  What if you find a woman who wants
sex as often as you do?" 

"Honey," I said reassuringly.  

She laid her head under my chin, snuggling closer. I could feel her heat and soft breathing. She
smelled good, a warm, rich woman scent, lightly perfumed.  I wrapped my arms around her,
holding her tightly, enjoying her closeness.  We lay together for awhile, not speaking.  Her hand
slipped down my cock.  It was very hard. 

"See. You're ready to have sex. Me, I won't really be ready for a few more days.  We need to do
something about that." 

"You do that to me.  Having you this close makes me want you." 

"Having any woman this close makes you want to get laid, you mean," she bantered amiably.

"Any suggestions?" I replied. I felt a light blush come and go. Had I said the wrong thing?
 
She sat up, pushing away with her hand on my chest, until we looked eye to eye.  She took both
of my hands in hers. 

"I love you.  I really do. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Do you understand?  Do you
know how much you mean to me?" 

"I love you, too, and I want to be with you." 

"But it's different for you. Look, I...." 

She was frustrated now, trying to decide what to say and how to say it. Words are so important. 
Words can't be unspoken.  I know relationships where one party caught the other cheating and
forgave, but with a few misplaced words, the walls of Jericho fell.  Her eyes held deep secrets
about to be revealed. 

"Jack, I've got a solution for 'the problem'." 

She spoke in a monotone, the words carefully measured. 

"What's the solution?"

"You need more than one woman." 

I was a soldier who had just discovered he was in the middle of a mine field. Suddenly, real fear
coursed through every vein.  I quivered as beads of sweat popped out on my face.  She smiled as
she slid her hand across my face to carry the sweat away.  

"This isn't a test. I'm not trying to trick you.  I want you to be honest with me. Totally honest! 
You're disappointed sexually on those occasions when I'm not really interested,  but have sex to
make my man happy. Right?" 

I said nothing.  I could hear the mines ticking under my feet.  I could see the thin antenna wire
sticking above the surface waiting for me to touch them and launch the mine to crotch height
before it exploded.

"Talk to me, honey.  Please."

I was looking for an evacuation helicopter.  She shook her head in mock disgust.

"Well, I'm disappointed if we have sex when I really don't want to. I don't mean disappointed in
you.  I mean I get more pleasure from sex if it has been a few days."

The mines were ticking louder. My legs twitched as I fought the urge to jump to safety. She
swatted my chest hard, but playfully.

"Relax! I'm being very honest with you.  I even know you have sex with other women
occasionally.  See.  I'm not hysterical."     

"I don't have . . . "

Her eyes were wild as she covered my mouth with her fingers.

"Don't lie to me!  I'd rather you bring a woman here and fuck her in my bed than lie to me!"

She roughly seized me in a deep and desperate kiss. We held each other tightly, letting her own
emotions subside before she spoke again.
 
"Other women bother me for two reasons. I don't want someone to steal you. And I'm afraid of
HIV . . .    Say something!  You still think I'm trying to trick you, don't you?  I'm not. Please,
Jack, help me by being honest."

"Marcia, I'm never disappointed in . . . " 

She gave me one of  those disapproving stares.  Every man knows those stares.  They penetrate
his soul.  He has been receiving them since his birth.  His mother started it.  His grandmothers
and aunts reinforced it.  Then, sisters and girlfriends.  But his wife or significant other could
always do it in the most devastating way.  

I found my tongue, but I was afraid I was losing my mind.  Only a crazy man would really be
honest in a situation like this.  Chilled with fear, I spoke anyway. 

"Okay.  Okay.  I'm disappointed on occasion when I can tell... well, when you don't want me."

"Oh, Jack, I want you! I just don't want sex as much as you. Can you understand that?  Can you
understand no matter how much I love you there are times I don't want sex?  And, sometimes I
want to be alone, here, in my own little world." 

I nodded as she stroked my cheek.

"Well, then.  My solution.  You need more than one woman.  That way . . .   What's wrong?" 

"Marcia, I want to leave and go outside. I'll take a deep breath, count to ten and come back.  I
think I have crossed into the Twilight Zone." 

"I'm trying to be honest with you and think of what'll make us both happy. I'm not trying to trick
you.  Now, where was I?  Oh, yes.  You need more than one woman. That way you can have a
happy, willing woman ready to make love to you all the time.  I can have a night off.  That will
make us both happy. It makes sense, doesn't it?" 

Knowing full well this was a trick and I was going to die a painful death for my comment, I said
it anyway. 

"Yes. It makes sense." 

She laughed, an evil, hearty laugh, as she tweaked my nipple through my shirt. 

"Scared shitless, lover?" 

"Yes I am." 

"Don't be.  I'm being very straight with you." 

"Is that what Lorena Bobbitt said when she went into the kitchen for her knife?" 

Her expression was the female martyr suffering the dumb male as women have always done. She
rolled her eyes.  She leaned into me, wrapped her arms around my neck so we were face to face. 
Her eyes were hot and piercing, the look she gets when she's thinking about sex. 

"Wouldn't you like that, Jack?  Wouldn't you like more than one woman and have them always
eager for you: hot and sweating, groaning under your powerful thrusts, quivering under you,
begging to be fucked, like I am when I'm rested?"  

She hadn't killed me yet.  I took her at her word and was honest. 

"Yes, I'd like that." 

She sat back triumphantly, with a smug, but loving, expression.

"I knew you would.  So, I've found them." 

"Them?" 

"The other women.  Two of them.  They're good friends of mine and they feel they way I do." 

"The way you do?"

"Yes. The way I do." 

"Which is?" 

There those damn mines were again, ticking louder than ever.  

"I'd rather have part of an exceptional man then all of a mediocre one. But -  I never want to
worry about losing him." 

Marcia stood and pulled me up.

"They feel the same way.  So, we've agreed to share you.  We'll all know you're having sex with
someone else, but we'll know who they are and when you're with them.  I know they won't steal
you away.  I know you'll be satisfied sexually so the probability you'll leave me for someone else
is small.  I can live with all that.  In fact, I can live with it better than worrying all the time about
losing you, which is what I do now."

Suddenly, the mines stopped and the air smelled sweeter. Then, my adrenalin kicked in again and
I was on full alert.  

"You're going to have dinner and spend the night with Susan in Unit 1066.  She's waiting for
you. I'm going to do my hair.  Tomorrow night, you'll have dinner and spend the night with
Yvonne." 

She guided me to the door.   

"Let me know how it turns out. If you don't like either of them, I have some others that would
love to be part of the group." 

"Is Susan a hit woman for N.O.W.?" 

She laughed and patted my arm like a mother reassuring a child.

"Have fun, baby. And, remember.  I'm sharing you, not giving you away.  I do love and want
you."

She kissed me and pushed me out the door.  I stood there dumb as a stump as she clicked the
bolt. Knowing full well I'd either wake from this dream in my own bed, or I'd be shot by the next
woman who saw me, I wandered aimlessly to Unit 1066.  I knocked.  The door immediately
opened.  I recognized Susan. We'd met at the swimming pool.  She was mid-thirties with a
lovely ass, pretty brown eyes, and a very shy, sweet smile.

"Hi, Jack." 

"Susan.  Hi.  I, um . . .  I . . . " 

"Please come in." 

She turned bright red as she stepped back to let me enter.  We stood in the front hall staring at
each other, neither of us speaking.  I heard the ticking again.  This time it came from a large
clock in her hallway. 

"Jack, please, let's go straight to bed before I lose my courage."

When I awakened the next morning with Susan curled in the crook of my arm, it took a minute to
realize where I was.  I thought more than a few minutes about how I got there.  Marcia had sent
me.  Susan took me to bed. I thought it all through again.  It came out the same way. Either I was
living in an alternate reality or Marcia, the woman I had been dating for a year, sent me to fuck
Susan, her friend. 

Then I thought about Susan.  At first glance, I might bed Susan, but not have a long term
relationship with her.  After last night I could see us together for a while.   Susan had led me
directly to her bedroom, turned out the lights and climbed in bed to undress.  When I joined her,
she was rigid. I cuddled and kissed her. It was like kissing an inflatable doll. 

"Jack?" she whispered.  

"Yes?"

Silence as she breathed raggedly before speaking again.

"Please . . .  be forceful.  I.... I....  I want this.  Don't let me say no to you." 

I did as the lady wished to our mutual enjoyment.

I slipped out of bed to go to the bathroom.  She was standing by the door waiting her turn when I
finished.  She hunched over, crossing herself with her arms in needless modesty as she padded
back to bed.

"Susan, go back.  Drop your arms and let me see you."

She gave a wide eyed, hesitant little shake of her head.

"Would sweet Susan like her bottom warmed?  I didn't realize you enjoyed it that much last
night."

She turned beet red, looking away from me in embarrassment. When she looked back at me, she
couldn't hide her sexual desire. 

"Well?"

She covered herself and ran to bed, sliding in next to me. 

"I guess I get my bottom warmed, don't I?" she giggled shyly as she snuggled up to me. 

How we both made it to work on time, I'll never know.  Marcia called me about noon.  

"Hello, lover boy.  Have fun?"

How the hell does a guy answer that question?

"Marcia, I . . . "

"... still think it's a trap of some kind.  It isn't.  Susan told me I was crazy for letting another
woman near you. Maybe I am.  Anyway, she had, and I quote, 'the most wonderful evening of my
life'. The way she described you would make me want to bed you if I wasn't already.  What are
you supposed to remember?" 

"That you love me." 

"That's right! And don't you ever forget it! Got a pencil?  I'll give you Yvonne's address." 

That night I arrived at Yvonne's bearing flowers.  About forty-five, she was a tall, hyper, blonde,
very thin with short hair and no makeup to hide her freckles.  She gave me a sexy grin and pulled
me inside, kissing me hard. 

"Marcia was right. You're damn good looking," she said as she led me to her bedroom.

She was wild, enthusiastic, energetic and demanding.  Again, I awakened in a strange bed with a
different woman.  

I was starting to like this.   

Marcia called during the day and invited me to dinner that night.

"I get you tonight, Jack.  I hope you're up to me," she said with a laugh. 

When I knocked, Marcia kissed me hotly at the door, hotter than I could remember in a long
time. 

"Bed first, if that's okay with you." 

"Your decision," I replied.  

She led me to the bedroom where we made love more passionately than we had since our early
days together.   As she lay in my arms while we both recovered, I squeezed her hard. 

"You can change your mind. We can go back to like we were." 

"No.  I'm happy with this.  I'll let you know if I change my mind." 

"All you have to do is tell me, baby.  After all, this was your idea." 

She leaned back to focus on my face.  Her expression was strong but playful.  Her mouth had a
little crooked smile.

"But it's an idea you like.  Right?"

What could I say?

After dressing, we quickly put dinner on the table. As we ate, we talked about us and Susan and
Yvonne.  The fear of being in a mine field returned, but I was honest anyway.  We heros are
brave that way.  

"I like both of them," I said as we cleared the table after dinner. 

"I thought you would, but I'm glad to hear it. I've invited them over for dessert."

No sooner than she said it, the door bell rang.

A thought hit me.  Marcia might feel differently when she actually saw me with them. I kissed
each one long and hard, as I'd kissed her. If she objected, it didn't show.  It was strange at first,
the four of us eating pie and drinking coffee together.  The friendship among the three women
softened the atmosphere.  It was obvious they'd discussed this sharing arrangement long before it
was mentioned to me.  Yvonne brought the issue out into the open.

"Well, where do we go from here?"  

"He likes us," Marcia replied.  

I reaffirmed that, telling them how much I'd enjoyed the last three nights and how special each of
them was. They beamed from my comments which made me feel very good indeed.  I beamed
from their comments, too, although Susan did not comment.  She smiled and blushed.   They
revealed their game plan. 

"Here's what we would suggest, Jack.  Yvonne's moving into this complex over the weekend.
I've reserved a lovely two bedroom for you starting the first of the month.  That way all of us will
be close neighbors." 

"You won't even have to drive to get laid," Yvonne chortled, which made Marcia and me laugh
and Susan blush.

"Let us arrange your social schedule. With very few exceptions, one of us will always be there
for you.  One condition.  We want you to have no one else but us.  Three should be plenty even
for a big stud like you."

"Did I detect some sarcasm there?"

"No. She means it," Susan piped up before she turned crimson red realizing what she had said. 

"And, Jack.  Romance us occasionally. Bring us flowers or candy.  Have us to your place
sometimes, or take us out."

"How about two at a time?"

Susan gasped.  Yvonne chortled.

"Don't press your luck," Marcia said as she gave me the evil eye.

Six months later, things were going smoothly. We were over the bumps. I was living the life of a
king with a harem. The best part was the harem liked it as much as I did.  

They arranged the schedule.  Once I had Susan for a weekend.  Another time, it was Yvonne for
three nights straight.  I never complained. Really, there was nothing to complain about.  Often,
the four of us had dinner together, or played bridge, or went to a movie or concert.  Yvonne
didn't like classical music. So, when she was out of town, Marcia, Susan and I went to the
symphony.  You get the idea.  I noticed Marcia always sat next to me.  That little show of
possessiveness pleased me.

Then, one night, I went to Susan's for dinner.  Marcia was there, too.  That hadn't happened
before.  I felt the adrenalin pumping again. 

"What's this? Is something wrong?" 

Susan blushed a bright red and mumbled.  Marcia said it out loud.

"We decided to give you two of us at once, Jack.  You're a good man. You deserve it."


The End


Please!   Give me your comments!

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com