Page 65 of The Holy Grail

Putting your ass on the table

The second week of dating turned out to be somewhat of a nothing burger, since Evan got called in to cover two shifts, and Jules had to work late at one of her jobs.

They ended up not having a public date because they all agreed hanging out at ‘headquarters’ sounded better, especially to Evan who’d put in extra hours at the bar.

She could smell something delicious cooking (an Italian dish of some kind, which would be perfect since she’d gotten her period that morning) but when she got to the kitchen, there was no one in it, so she wandered into the living room.

Malcom and Evan were both on the couch, with Evan reclining on his side and Malcom spread out flat.

They were tangled up together, and it made Jules pause as she took in the scene, struck by the intimacy of it.

Adding a bit of whimsy, was Dawn Corleone, who was perched on the back of the couch like a loaf of bread .

As Jules approached the couch, both men turned to look at her, their smiles fading a bit with concern after she gave them both a kiss, then she sat down on the floor next to the couch.

“You look tired,” Malcom told her, reaching out to touch her cheek.

Because she wasn’t one to be easily offended by the truth when it was pointed out to her, she nodded. “I am tired.”

“Bad day, Squirt?” Evan asked.

She inwardly sighed at what was apparently her new nickname. When he’d first started using it after the night they all took a bath together, she’d told him, “No.”

“You don’t get to choose your own nickname, so … ‘Yes’.”

“What if people ask about it?”

“Just tell them it’s ironic because you’re tall. They’ll never know the real reason.”

She had a feeling he was wrong about that, but there was no going back.

Stepping over the nickname, she explained, “I got my period earlier and I usually feel like ass on the first day, so ...”

It was the first time discussing ‘women’s issues’ with either of them, and they took it in stride.

“I’m sorry,” Evan said.

“Me, too,” Malcom said, before adding, “I have a pan of lasagna in the oven, if that will help.”

Jules nodded. “It will.”

“I also have Motrin, if you need any … and Chamomile tea. Or wine, if you prefer.”

“Thanks. You know you’re really good at this kind of stuff,” she told him, only to add, somewhat dryly, “which makes sense since you were married for a while.”

“I’m pretty good at giving massages,” Evan volunteered.

“I’ll bet you are,” Jules told him, before getting to her feet to go get some Motrin and a heaping glass of wine.

Screw the Chamomile tea.

After dinner, the men headed back to the couch and turned on the TV.

To Jules’ amusement, they were both enamored with a show called The Great British Bakeoff .

As she was settling onto the loveseat, they immediately told her to join them on the couch but she begged off, pointing out there wasn’t enough room for them to all be comfortable, and she was just going to read.

She pulled out her Kindle, but before she could even open the digital book, Malcom asked, “What are you reading?”

“It’s a book about a triad.”

The two men looked at one another, before Malcom muted the TV and asked, “Fiction or non-fiction?”

She gave a little snort. “Fiction.”

“Is it good?”

“It’s not bad.”

“That sounds like you don’t like it.”

“I might have a few issues with it,” she admitted.

“Like what?”

They were both looking at her with genuine interest, so she said, “Well, one of my issues is that both of the men are described as having ten-inch cocks and she’s taking both of them like a champ, which seems unrealistic, right?

Plus, there’s no mention of lube ever being used, and I’m pretty sure that’s a necessity. ”

They were now both looking at her with matching expressions of Hmmm.

“What?” she demanded.

Evan was the first to speak. “Are you reading this book for entertainment purposes, or because you’re curious?”

“A little of both, maybe. But it’s fiction—hello, matching ten-inch cocks—so obviously not a realistic how-to manual or anything.”

“Are you thinking about taking us both?”

Malcom chose that moment to break in. “You told me your back door was exit only,” he reminded Jules.

Evan blinked in surprise. “You two have talked about anal?”

“Very, very briefly,” Jules replied. “In passing.”

“Are you re-thinking your back door policy?” Malcom asked.

“Maybe.” She paused for a moment, then elaborated with, “I’ve been kicking the thought around a bit—at first with little baby kicks, because anal has never been on my Bucket List. Or any list, for that matter, really.

However, lately I’ve been thinking about it in terms of the bigger picture, one in which the three of us are fully interactive.

” Taking a breath, she then added, “And if we’re going to be fully interactive, then we should all have to be willing to, you know … ”

“Take it in the ass?” Evan provided with dry amusement.

Not surprised at Evan’s bluntness (sometimes it could rival her own), Jules lifted a shoulder in a delicate shrug.

“Yes.” In a softer tone, she added, “Which is why I’ve been thinking about double penetration.

I mean, obviously not every Friday night, or whatever, but once in a while would be a good thing, right? ”

“It would be,” Evan agreed.

“You’ve obviously been a part of double penetration?”

“Yes. It’s … incredible.”

“Were you, um, on top or on the bottom? I mean, what was your location? Her ass, or …”

“Her pussy?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve experienced it in both, and also from the top and the bottom.”

Jules frowned for a second, trying to picture all the ways it could be done, which prompted Evan to explain, “Let me give you a few examples—”

“Do you need paper and a pencil?” she asked. “For pictures?”

Evan couldn’t help but laugh at that, but Malcom looked confused. “Pictures?”

Evan quickly explained how he’d drawn pictures to help explain how triads worked, and how Jules had given him shit over it. Then, to Jules, he said, “I won’t draw pictures this time, but I’m going to use us in the examples, all right?”

“All right.”

“So, in the first one, I could sit on the couch, technically the bottom position, and you could be riding me, with Mal in the top position, in your ass. In this example, I’ve been both top and bottom.

Now, I could also be sitting on the couch, with you laying on me, your back to my chest, with me in your ass, and Mal in the top position, taking up residence in your pussy.

In this second example, I’ve also been both top and bottom, and in my experience, the first way seems to work the best.” He let her process all that, then asked, “Did that help? ”

“Yes. I didn’t realize there were so many options, but now that I do, I think I’d lean more toward the first scenario, to be honest.” She gave a quick nod, as if reaching a decision. “So, I’d be willing to put it on the table. My ass, I mean. “

“I’m willing to put my ass on the table, too,” Evan said. “Which isn’t something I do very often.”

“I take it you prefer to be … the top … with a man?”

“Yes. I’m more of a dominant personality, so it gives me the control I like.

I can bottom as well—and I have—but it has to be with the right person.

” Evan reached over and got a handful of Malcom’s junk, squeezing gently.

“I’ve thought a lot about being your first …

even dreaming about it a couple of times. ”

“You mean being the first to fuck me?” Malcom wanted to know. “Or being the first man I fuck?”

“I want both.” Evan leaned in and kissed him.

When he pulled back a few inches, he added with a dark promise in his voice, “I want to own all of your firsts, to be honest. Every last one of them—from holding your hand and first kiss, to your first blow job, your first prostate massage, and your first fucking. I want to be your first and last in all things ... especially when it comes to love.”

Malcom cleared his throat, a little taken aback by the intense information dump.

In many ways, he felt like he was on the sexual level of a high-school boy, who was treading into the ‘gay’ end of the pool for the first time, with his emotions all over the place, making him feel a bit overwhelmed.

And he knew he was older than Evan, but in this area of Malcom’s life, he felt much younger, and very vulnerable.

It was a little scary, but he trusted Evan and knew there would be safety with him, and that gave Malcom the courage to say, “We’ve held hands and gotten the first kiss out of the way, so …

how about we knock out that first blow job? ”

Taking in all the signs of Malcom’s rising arousal—his quickened breaths, flushed face, wide eyes—and intuitively knowing he was referring to receiving and not giving, Evan asked, “You mean like right now?”

“Yes. Right now sounds good.”

“How good does it sound?”

“Really good.”

“What if I said it wouldn’t be really good? That it would blow your fucking mind? Would you be ready for that?”

Malcom cleared his throat, but instead of verbally answering, simply nodded .

“Then let’s get started,” Evan said with a smile.

From over on the loveseat, Jules murmured, “Well, this evening just got very interesting, didn’t it?”