Squire’s Isle Created by Geonn Cannon

An Intimate History, Jill and Patricia Hood-Colby (M/F/F)

Warning: Features Jill and Patricia having a threesome with a man.

Summary: A history of Jill Hood-Colby’s love life, culminating in one of the most important evenings of her life. (repost)

1. April Page.
The first person Jill Colby had feelings for was her best friend. No, scratch that. April was just the first person she had a crush on who returned the feeling. Jill was so accustomed to admiring from afar that she was thrown by the idea someone might reciprocate. They flirted when they were with friends (which made them all at least a little uncomfortable). But when they were alone the flirtation became more serious. When the others had gone home, and when they were in Molly’s room or, more rarely, in Jill’s, they became awkward and quiet with each other. Jill didn’t have a lot of privacy at her home, what with three other foster kids, and April had a twin sister who was a bit too territorial for Jill to bother fighting.

April was her first kiss. They sat together in the backyard, on a little hillock just high enough that they could see the water. It was sunset, and they’d spent the entire day together. Jill knew April was looking at her but refused to turn and meet her eyes. She was too nervous about what it would mean if she did. Finally April leaned in and kissed Jill’s cheek. Jill turned, and their lips brushed together. She inhaled sharply and then they were kissing properly.

They planned to be each other’s prom dates, but the school refused to sell a pair of tickets to two girls. April suggested they could save money (“…and hear much better music…”) if they just had their own celebration. So April dressed in a suit, Jill got a dress, and they drove out to the boonies outside of town. They drove almost to the other side of the island, near the lighthouse, and danced in the car’s headlights.

April had just cut her hair extremely short, and on prom night it was sculpted to her skull. She had joked that everyone at the prom would think she was a boy anyway, and Jill said she was much too pretty to be a boy. They had kissed, something they were getting much more comfortable with, and then moved back to the car to be more comfortable.

Sheryl Crow’s tape was playing when the kissing became something different. April was the more aggressive one, shifting her weight so that she was partially resting on top of Jill, but she pulled back. Jill stopped her by holding onto her tie, looking into April’s eyes as she loosened the tie enough to undo the top button of April’s shirt.

They started undressing during “Strong Enough.” By the time the tape reached the end of Side 1, they were both partially undressed and gasping against each other’s necks. Jill’s dress was pulled down to show her bra, and April’s shirt and bra were off. Jill turned her head to kiss April behind the ear and April trembled.



“No, I mean, wow.”

Jill chuckled and turned April’s head so their lips lined up for another kiss. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.” She looked toward the front of the car. “I have to flip the tape over.”

Jill nodded. April leaned away from her and stretched into the front seat, unashamed in her nakedness, and Jill admired the fullness of her breasts and the pear-shaped curve to her hips. Her soft, rounded belly. She reached out and touched April’s stomach, dipping her finger into the navel, and April twisted around to smile at her as the music started again.

“What are you doing?”

“Practicing.” Jill pressed back against the seat and let April cover her again.

They stayed together until graduation, wishing Colby and Page were closer in the alphabet as they filed onto the football field to accept their diplomas. They only had sex five times since prom, the fifth time being the morning after the school’s all-night “safe celebration” to ensure the kids didn’t go out and get into trouble. April spent most of the evening with her sister, which Jill understood. They were twins, after all.

She and April were going to college together, both planning to become teachers. April was more interested in high school, while Jill focused on younger students. They played musical chairs with roommates; Jill spent the night in April’s room while April’s roommate took the bed that Jill wasn’t using in her own dorm.

Halfway through freshman year, April went home to the island for Christmas. While she was gone, Jill was in April’s dorm room to study in a lame attempt to feel closer to her. She was there when a bouncy brunette named Brandy came by.

“Hi. Is this April Page’s room?”


Brandy produced a book from her bag. “She left that in my car last Friday. Could you give it back to her?”

Jill could only think about the Friday before, when April hadn’t been feeling well, when Jill had stayed in her own room instead of going out or spending the night with her. And, come to think of it, weren’t there other nights when April had “just not felt up” to getting together? And she’d lived on Squire’s Isle her entire life; why hadn’t April invited her to come home with her?

She took the book, and with it came a realization.

“So are you the roommate?”


“Are you April’s roommate?”

“I’m Jill.”

Brandy said, “Okay.” Jill knew that she’d never been mentioned, and her cheeks burned. “I’ll see that she gets the book.”

“Kay. Thanks!”

The fight was on New Years Eve, shouted accusations and resigned confessions occurring as the rest of the campus counted down. Jill started the next year single. School work kept her from descending too far into depression and she started finding alternate routes to class that didn’t make her cross paths with April. The month of April rolled around and Jill found herself horribly crushed by the calendar. She pulled herself out of the sadness to focus on her end of the year work.

She was crossing campus one day near the end of the semester when she saw a brunette in pigtails trying to load a cargo plane worth of bags into the rear of her station wagon. Jill slung her book bag over her shoulder and jogged over to help, introducing herself as she found a place to fit a small red duffel bag.

When they were finished, the girl applauded their work and thanked her profusely.

“You have to let me repay you somehow. Dinner. Let me buy you dinner.”

All of Jill’s meals for the past month had come from a vending machine or a microwave, so the offer was far too tempting to pass up. She agreed and they found room for themselves in the overstuffed cabin of the car.

“I’m Jill Colby.”

“Nice to meet you.” She held the wheel with one hand and stretched the other across her chest for Jill to shake it. “Bridget Cahill.”

2. Bridget Cahill.
Bridget was on an art scholarship. She wore overalls on top of sleeveless T-shirts and tank tops, and her hair was almost always speckled with paint or clay, depending on her current medium. They went on a few dates, made out, and then Bridget took Jill to her studio. She instructed Jill to sit on the stool, then perched behind her so that her knees were lightly pressed against Jill’s flank. She guided Jill’s hands and together they sculpted a very deformed half-man, half-whale creature. Jill laughed as the top half of the man collapsed onto the table.

“Oh, well. You know what they say. Those who can’t do, teach.”

“How dare you,” Jill said, laughing as she held up her clay-covered hands.

“Did I offend you, baby?”

Jill tilted her head to the side as Bridget kissed her throat, still holding her caked hands out in front of her. Eventually, when the necking had progressed to something possibly more, Jill cleared her throat and pulled away.

“Um. Bathroom?”

“You can wash it off over there.”

Jill went to the large industrial sink and scrubbed away the clay, making sure she got everything that was under her nails.

Bridget pressed against her from behind and Jill tensed as Bridget’s arms came around her. She crossed her hands at the wrist, the clay still clumped around her fingers.

“If I don’t wash my hands, you’ll have to touch yourself.”

Jill’s ears burned. “Well. You could still watch.”

Bridget chuckled. “Don’t tease me.”

Jill shut off the water and flicked the excess water into the basin. She moved her hands back to her waist and unbuckled her belt. Bridget became very still, her hips against Jill’s ass in fear of breaking the spell as Jill unzipped her slacks and worked her fingers into the opening. They were still wet enough for her purposes, and she was soon gasping and pressing back against Bridget.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

“My hands.” Bridget sounded breathless. “I’ll ruin your clothes.”

“Okay. I hate these clothes,” Jill moaned.

Bridget washed the clay off anyway before she took off Jill’s clothes. Still dressed, she pulled Jill over to one of the relatively clean drop cloths under slanted wall of windows on the studio side of her apartment. Bridget remained dressed in the blouse and skirt she’d worn on their date, the material brushing seductively over Jill’s naked flesh as Bridget’s talented fingers went to work. Jill arched her back, looking over the top of her head through the window. She saw stars when she came, laughing as she pulled her fully-clothed girlfriend to her.

Jill posed for a painting (dressed) and an abstract sculpture (less so). She finally got to see Bridget naked and declared it was worth the wait. Her only flirtation with drugs was during her relationship with Bridget, with whom she smoked pot on the weekends. She wasn’t a fan, but Bridget was willing to cut down to one day a week if Jill did it with her.

Their breakup wasn’t dramatic or acrimonious. After a few months, the novelty began to wear off and they realized they didn’t have much in common. Their sexual relationship ended first, and Jill occasionally dropped by for pot and for oral sex (Bridget loved giving and receiving oral sex while high). Eventually their circles of friends drifted further apart and they stopped seeing each other so much. Neither was heartbroken, but both were a little sad for a while.

Jill had a few one night stands. She didn’t want a relationship, preferring to focus on her schoolwork, but every now and then she just had to get out or she’d go stir-crazy. She found a bar near campus that catered to a female-only clientele, where she met a few ladies who were willing to put her up for the night. Including…

3. Lisa Brown.
…a blonde with a motorcycle who gave Jill a ride and let her fingers wander once the bike was stopped. And she led to…

4. Elena Gomez.
…a shy woman who gave Jill her first taste of being in charge with a lover, something she found intoxicating…

5. Erin Lawrence.
…an ill-chosen partner who quickly resorted to slapping and name-calling as their clothes started to come off. Jill put the kibosh on it and went through with a lackluster and listless coupling that left her more irritated than satisfied…

6. Naomi Marrow.
…and a cute music nerd who waited until they were already undressing before she dropped the bombshell that she worked with Dash Warren. Jill had stopped, her hand warming against Naomi’s stomach, and stared at her.

“You’re kidding me. I love Dash Warren.”

“I do, too.” She smiled and guided Jill’s hand lower. “Just thought you should know who else had been here before you.”

Jill was thrown for a loop. “You fucked Dash Warren?”

Naomi just smiled and pulled her in for another kiss. Jill’s hand moved between Naomi’s legs, held tight against her body by jeans and underwear, and Jill soon forgot all about the rock legend in whose shoes she was currently walking and just enjoyed the experience.

Unfortunately Naomi lived too far away to make a second date feasible. The ferry ride between school and Port Townsend wasn’t horribly long, but it would effectively stymie any attempts to meet up casually.

After a few weeks, however, Jill was willing to make the trip just so she could get some relief. Her vibrator wasn’t cutting it anymore; she needed to be with someone. Bridget was seeing someone else, a Goth chick with a tongue stud, so there wasn’t even the hope of a “friends with benefits” hook-up. Her roommate set her up on a blind date with a Lesbian Until Graduation who was so dull that her affectation of a personality was the only thing she had going for her. Jill thanked her for the night out and went back to her battery-operated relief outlet.

She ended up being celibate until graduation, returning home to Squire’s Isle with a teaching degree under her belt and facing a dearth of teaching positions. She applied to the elementary school and was told that they would keep her on file in case something opened up elsewhere. She moved into a little apartment far inland and got a job as a clerk at the grocery store. She wanted to stay on Squire’s Isle, but she hadn’t spent all her time and money on a teaching degree just to bag groceries.

One night she was working the graveyard shift when the town librarian came through the line. Jill smiled wearily.

“Hi. Find everything all right?”

The woman didn’t answer. She finished unloading her cart and then looked at Jill. Realizing she must have said something, the woman smiled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry. I’m deaf.”

“Oh!” Jill put down the jar of peanut butter she’d just checked. “My birth mother was deaf. I never got to know her, but I learned how to Sign so I could be close to her. I’m Jill.”

“Hi, Jill. I’m Cheryl.”

“Pleased to meet you.

“And you!” Jill finished scanning the groceries and accepted Cheryl’s check.

Do you need help carrying them to the car?

“No. Thank you.” She paused after loading her bags into the cart. “You sign very well, Jill.

Thank you. Have a nice day.

She watched Cheryl go, tucking her bottom lip into her mouth. After a moment she turned off the light over her register and hurried out to catch up to Cheryl in the parking lot.

7. Cheryl Paxton.
They were in bed together when Jill got the call from the school. Mrs. McKeon’s husband was retiring and they were moving to Arizona. It was a fifth grade class, the perfect age as far as Jill was concerned. She agreed to come by in the morning to have an official interview, already composing her resignation speech to the store manager as she hung up. Cheryl had been watching her and raised an eyebrow when Jill put aside the phone and faced her again.

“Well?” Cheryl said.

“I’m going to be a fifth-grade teacher.”

Cheryl cheered and pulled Jill down to her. That time – only their third – was bittersweet because Jill also knew it was going to be their last. She waited until the job was made official and sat down with Cheryl to explain her reasoning. It was a small town, infinitely small when it came to homosexual couples. A few people were out, but painfully few. And she couldn’t risk her job as a teacher if it came out that she was gay. She sobbed an apology, but Cheryl held her and told her it would be okay. She understood, and she was sad, but she was willing to let her go.

“I want to still be your friend.” She wiped the tears from Jill’s cheek. “Too few people in this town know how to Sign!”

Jill laughed. “I’d like that a lot.” She kissed Cheryl one last time and they fell asleep together on the couch. It was the last time Jill would wake up in a woman’s arms until one wet February day when she went to do her laundry and met a tall, elegant woman with olive skin and waves of brown hair.

8. Patricia Hood.
She woke up to gentle breathing, a soft hand resting on her upper arm, and a feeling of relaxed fulfillment that only came from breaking her dry spell. If Patricia noticed it had been a while, she didn’t say anything. Jill lifted her head and watched Patricia sleep, her face outlined by the dim light filtering through the window. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want a relationship. But everything in her said she would regret turning down the opportunity so she went with it.

She bent her knee and dragged her thigh over Patricia’s. It felt very nice, being here with someone, sharing a bed with someone, and she was reluctant to pull herself away. Common sense indicated she should get up quietly, put her clothes back on, and slip out before Patricia woke up. Waking up would lead to complications. Being here when Patricia woke up would only make things difficult.

Jill lowered her head to Patricia’s chest and listened to her heartbeat. The sound lulled her back to sleep.

Two years later, she and Patricia stood in front of a group of friends and family and promised to remain together for ever. Four years after that they officially became married in the eyes of the law. And two months after that, Jill added another person to her list.

At the old house, Jill and Patricia often had their Important Conversations in the kitchen when Michael was in his room. That made it less likely he would overhear their arguments or financial discussions. Now that they lived in the mayor’s mansion, Michael’s room was on the second floor and it was rather difficult to overhear conversations from anywhere on the ground floor. Still, habit won out. When Patricia got home from City Hall, Jill unfolded herself from the couch and motioned her wife into the kitchen. Patricia followed without question, shedding her coat and heels as she went.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just, um. We got something today.” She held out the FedEx envelope that had been delivered a few hours earlier. “Noah’s medical results. He got a full physical and just had the doctor send the results to us.”

Patricia raised an eyebrow and took the envelope. “Any surprises?”

“Nothing bad. No diseases or anything like that.” Jill realized she was breathless and calmed herself. “And you saw his family history when we wrote up that parental rights contract.”

“Yeah.” Patricia flipped through the papers slowly, then looked up and met Jill’s gaze. “It looks good to me, sweetheart. But this is really up to you. You’re the one who is making the biggest sacrifice here. Not just the… event…” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone. Michael knew they were planning to have another baby, but he didn’t know they were bypassing the clinics and sperm catalogue to go the old-fashioned way. Patricia said, “But beyond that. If it works, you’ll be pregnant.”

Jill couldn’t help but smile. “Yes. I’m ready. I’ve been thinking about nothing else. I want this, Trish. I want to have your baby.”

Patricia kissed her, the medical records crushed between them. Patricia stroked Jill’s hair, their foreheads touching. “So. I think there’s a, um… set schedule for when we have to do this. We should probably figure that out and get in touch with Noah. See when he’s available.”

“And we can’t do it on the island. It’s far too small.”

“Right. We’ll work all that out later. But right now let’s just celebrate. We’re trying to have a baby.”

Jill smiled. “Yes. We are.” She kissed her wife again. “Are you sure you’re okay with me carrying it? My mother… I could pass on the trait for deafness.”

“And you could also pass on the trait for brown eyes. And beauty. And a goofy sense of humor. And I’ll take all of that, because it’s part of you.” She kissed Jill’s eyebrows. “You’ll have to teach me Sign, though.”

“You’ll pick it up quickly.”

“You think?”

Jill nodded. “You have really, really smart fingers.”

Patricia chuckled and swayed with Jill in the middle of the kitchen.

9. Noah Crain.
“You okay?”

Jill smiled nervously. “Am I hyperventilating?”

Patricia squeezed her hand. “A little. It’s to be expected.”

They were standing together in the elevator, both watching the counter scroll higher and higher. It was late, and Patricia had treated her to a night of dinner and dancing in Seattle. Their purpose was technically a Northwestern Mayoral Conference, but the little pink stick told Jill the time was right. Noah was available, and they already had the hotel room and a reason to be away from home. Jill brought Patricia’s hand up to her mouth and kissed the knuckles.

They had been all around this discussion since Jill first brought it up. If they went the clinic route, they would be paying thousands of dollars per treatment and it would end with Jill in a cold and impersonal room having something alarmingly impersonal done to her. This way, she controlled everything. Not only the environment, but the cast of characters. She wanted Patricia by her side. She wanted their child to be brought into the world somewhere other than some blue-lit, cold-tile clinic’s exam room.

That didn’t make it any easier to actually carry through with it. They stepped off the elevator and walked to their room. Patricia used the key to let them in, guided Jill to the bed, and turned to face her. Jill stepped back to take in the sight of her wife, dazzling in a sleeveless little black dress. Jill wore a pantsuit over a scoop-neck blouse, trying to look like the First Lady of a small island town and, in her mind, failing. But she felt she had comfortably blended in at the luncheon, so maybe she wasn’t that far off.

Patricia lightly kissed her, whispering that she would be back. She went into the bathroom and Jill turned on the stereo. She scanned for a station playing instrumental music, settling on something classical as someone knocked on the door. Her hand jerked on the dial and she looked at the bathroom, then self-consciously touched her hair.

“J-just a second.” She glanced at her reflection in the balcony door, smoothing down her hair with one hand as she crossed the room.

Noah Crain, carpenter and sailor, was standing nervously in the hallway. He smiled when he saw her and Jill opened the door wider to let him in.

“Hi. I’m a little late.”

She checked her watch. “It’s okay. We just got back from dinner. You look nice.”

He smiled and looked down at himself. He wore a blue button-down shirt tucked into black slacks and a lightweight jacket. He was clean-shaven (by Jill’s request) but his hair hadn’t been cut since they met (also a request). The result was a slightly shaggier mop of curls; nothing that would fool someone into thinking he was a woman even at a glance, but closer to Jill’s comfort level.

“Thank you for coming.” Her eyes widened. “Oh. I didn’t mean that as a double entendre.”

Noah laughed. “It’s okay. I’m happy to help.” He took off his jacket and glanced into the room. She held out her hand for the jacket to hang it in the closet.

“Trish is, um, in the bathroom getting ready.”


The bathroom door opened and they both turned toward it. Patricia had exchanged the dress for a see-through robe that ended just below her waist and left very little to the imagination. Underneath she wore the lacy teddy Jill had bought her for the occasion. She curled her toes in the carpet, backlit by the bathroom light like Aphrodite, and Jill felt a surge of desire for her.

“Hi, Noah.”

He coughed into his hand. “Hi.”

They had discussed the night at length. Noah’s first offer had been that he would be as unobtrusive as possible. Patricia had vetoed that with Jill’s blessing. “If this is going to happen, it needs to be a pleasurable experience for all of us. If we’re looking at you like a tool, you’re going to be disconnected from the moment. I think it needs to be as normal as possible. Mentally, physically, we need to be completely present. Otherwise I don’t think this will be successful. And no offense, Noah, I’m not exactly planning to make this a monthly occurance.”

Patricia had been alternating between guilt over all the stipulations they made of the poor man – a man they had only just met! – and knowing that the guidelines were all that stood between them and awkward pain down the road. He signed away parental rights to any child conceived through the union, and they declared they would never come after him for support. They offered to pay him per “incident,” but he declined. He couldn’t come up with a price that didn’t seem absurdly low or ridiculously extravagant, so Patricia and Jill agreed they would pay for any expenses he incurred: hotel rooms, travel, anything that he purchased in connection with their arrangement would be paid by them.

After the meeting where they decided to go through with the plan, Jill had followed him out of the house and caught him before he reached the gate in front of the house.

“Why are you doing this?”

He looked out over the town for a long time before he answered. “You said you’d never been with a man before. So if you’re willing to break a lifelong streak to have a child, then I think you’d be a great mother. A mother who will do anything to protect that child. So if I can help bring it into the world, I’m willing. It’s not a special talent. I’m just honored you chose me.”

Patricia now took Jill’s hand and guided her to the bed, motioning for Noah to follow them. At the foot of the bed, Jill turned and Patricia kissed her. Noah stayed a few steps back, arms crossed in front of him as if he was giving himself a hug, watching as the kiss carried on with increasing passion. Jill passively allowed Patricia to unbutton her blazer and she slid it off, revealing the thin shoulder straps of Jill’s blouse and bra. Patricia held the jacket out and Noah took it, folding it length-wise and laying it on the chair.

Jill broke the kiss and opened her eyes, looking at Patricia before switching her focus to Noah. She wet her lips. “Take off Trish’s robe, Noah.”

He stepped behind her and ran his hands around Patricia’s hips as they resumed the kiss. He undid the loose knot, then pulled the flimsy material away from her skin. Jill cupped Patricia’s breasts, and Patricia moaned as Noah gripped her shoulders with strong hands and began to knead the tired muscles.

“Wow, he’s good at one part anyway,” Patricia whispered, and Jill snickered helplessly.

Patricia drew her tongue around Jill’s lips and dropped her hands to the waistband of Jill’s pants. Jill stepped out of her shoes as the button was undone and Patricia pushed her fingers inside. She skimmed her palms over Jill’s hip and the pants slid down. Noah’s hands brushed Jill’s stomach as he stroked Patricia’s middle.

Patricia said, “Noah… Jill’s underwear. Take them off of her.”

He hooked his thumbs in the elastic and Jill held her breath. She raised her arms and Patricia peeled her top off, then reached back to undo her bra. Jill kept her eyes locked on Patricia, ignoring the odd ghosted image of Noah moving behind her. Patricia stroked Jill’s breasts as Noah’s hands explored her hips. His hands felt abnormally large on her ass, but they were comfortingly strong.

Patricia broke the kiss and spun to the side as elegantly as a dancer. She extricated herself so that Jill was facing Noah, nude in front of a man for the first time in her life, and she felt a sudden burst of shyness. She crossed an arm across her breasts and dropped her hand to her mound as Patricia moved behind her.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart. Let him see you.” She kissed Jill’s neck and shoulders, stroking her arms as Jill let them drop. Noah ran his eyes over her body and wet his lips. Patricia smiled and whispered in Jill’s ear. “Undress him, sweetheart.”

Jill reached out, eyes on his as she undid the buttons of his shirt. “Couldn’t have worn a sweater…?”

He grinned and, once again, his disconcerting resemblance to Patricia clicked in Jill’s mind. It was enough to make her hands move faster and she pushed his shirt off. Patricia’s arms came around her and Jill felt as if she’d sprouted two more hands to take off Noah’s pants. They fell, and Jill forced herself to look down.

Well. He was certainly qualified for what they needed him to do.

Jill ran her hand down his chest – so flat and hairy; unappealing, but she could certainly see why another woman might go for it – and allowed herself a brief hesitation before she circled her fingers around the base of him.

“Well?” Patricia whispered in her ear.

“I still prefer yours,” Jill said, “but this one will do for our purposes…”

She looked down and watched, stroking it with her thumb on top and her fingers spread along the underside. It was smaller than any of the ones in Patricia’s drawer, but she wasn’t going to mention that with the poor guy standing right in front of her. She tilted her head toward him, a signal that he could kiss her, and he replied with tentative pressure. She brushed her tongue across his lips as Patricia continued to stroke her back, moving under her arms to cup her breasts.

“What do you think, Jill? Is he about ready?”

“I think he’s ready…”

Noah’s voice was rough. “Yeah, he’s ready.”

Patricia stepped away from her, the absence making Jill feel untethered even as Patricia’s hand settled on her shoulder. “Lie down, baby…”

Jill backed up to the bed, letting go of Noah only at the last possible moment. She felt the mattress against the back of her legs and glanced back to see a pillow had been placed at the foot of the bed for her. She sat down and lay back, and Patricia climbed onto the bed next to her. As Jill lowered herself onto the pillow, Patricia threw a leg across her and settled on Jill’s stomach. Noah moved forward, easing Jill’s legs further apart so he could stand between them.

Jill put her hands on Patricia’s thighs, and Patricia rested one palm between Jill’s breasts, looming over her until she was all Jill could see.

“Are you ready?”


Patricia spoke to Noah without looking at him. “Slowly. She’s never done this before.”

Jill chuckled nervously as Patricia cupped her cheek. She extended her thumb across Jill’s bottom lip, teasing as Noah did the same between her legs. Jill gasped involuntarily, eyes wide as she braced. Patricia calmed her without words, shushing and shaking her head as the pad of her thumb slid across Jill’s teeth.

“Relax… just relax, darling. Let me inside.”

Jill closed her eyes and let her mind fool itself. Patricia’s perfume was all around her, Patricia’s weight was on her. She opened her mouth and took Patricia’s thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it as “Patricia” pushed slowly into her. Noah took his time, taking his cues from Patricia for speed and rhythm. The bed creaked under them, Patricia rocking her hips in sync with Noah. Jill lifted her lower body to meet him, her fingers digging into the soft skin of Patricia’s thighs as Noah began moving faster.

“Too fast?” Patricia whispered.


“Maybe a little faster?”

Jill nodded, and Patricia chuckled. “You have to say it, baby.”

“Faster,” Jill gasped. “Fuck me faster, Trish.”

The bed picked up its protests, groaning and shrieking under the three of them. Noah moved his hands from Jill’s legs to Patricia’s shoulder, squeezing them again as he thrust against Jill. He grunted and said, “I’m not going to last long…”

Patricia nodded to confirm she’d heard him. She moved her hand behind her back, splitting two fingers around Jill’s clit. “I’m going to come, Jill… are you close, baby?”

“Yes…” It was a cry and a plea, and she arched her back off the mattress as she pushed down against Noah. “You’re going to make me come, Trish. Don’t stop…. I’m coming. Trisha, come. Come inside me, please.”

Noah was fully inside of her, hips flush against hers, Patricia’s ass against his stomach, and he tightened his grip on Patricia’s shoulder as he came. Jill cried out at the unusual sensation and Patricia bent down, kissing her closed eyes and whispering, “Sh, darling, sh… sh… it’s okay.”

Jill held tightly to Patricia, shaking violently. Tears filled her eyes as she realized the enormity of what they had just done, of what she hoped they had just done. She curled her arm around Patricia’s neck and kissed her, slipping her tongue into Patricia’s mouth as Noah withdrew. Patricia lifted herself off Jill’s waist, taking the panties from Noah. She helped Jill put them back on, then molded her hand to the shape of Jill’s mound. Jill growled low in her throat, her eyes rolling back in her head as Patricia stroked her to a second orgasm.

Noah returned to the bed still shirtless but with his pants back on. He bent down and kissed them both on the lips, a light and almost familial brush of his mouth against theirs.

“Good luck, ladies.”

“Thank you, Noah,” Patricia said, still running her fingers over the lace of Jill’s panties.

He finished dressing, wished them luck once more, and slipped out of the room.

Jill stayed on her back, the pillow keeping her hips elevated so that her feet were dangling, and slowly the reality of where she was came back to her. She could hear traffic outside, could hear the music she’d put on right before Noah’s arrival. She closed her eyes and listened to Patricia’s breathing. Suddenly her eyes snapped open and she turned her head to look at Patricia.

“You didn’t come.”

Patricia smiled and kissed Jill just under her eye. “Yes, I did.”

“You did?”

“You were a little busy at the time.” She brushed a few stray hairs away from Jill’s face. “I got to watch you have sex without doing any work. I saw how beautiful you are. I came right before you did.”

Jill smiled. “Oh. Well. If there’s a next time, I’ll be sure to notice.”

Patricia kissed her. “What do you think? Think there will be a next time?”

Jill covered Patricia’s hand with her own. “I guess we’ll know in a few weeks.”

“Yeah.” She kissed the corners of Jill’s mouth. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Patricia slid closer to Jill, spooning against her side. Jill looked down at their hands resting against the crotch of her underwear. She dropped her head back to the mattress, eyes closed, and moved her hand up to her abdomen. She didn’t know how it could possibly help, or if she was even resting her hand in the right place, but she thought maybe the warmth would help get everything where it needed to go. She was willing to go through the whole process again, for Patricia’s sake, but she was just as ready to finally and definitively close the book on her sexual history with a single name on the last line.

Patricia Hood Colby. The love of her life, the only lover she would ever want, for the rest of her days.

Thinking her body would work better if it was resting, she pressed her lips to Patricia’s forehead and fell into a gentle slumber.

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