Tryst

Menage a Paris

"How does that tiny little girl take you, babe?" Ada didn't really mean to say that out loud, but as she looked down between her thighs, spread around a bench and sat atop Harry's, her grip on her self control was not strong. Not while she watched the fluted head of Harry's cock come out of its sheath as it went into her. She could see the friction, God, there was absolutely no doubt she could feel it. The way he split her open was impressive. And she knew, rationally, that human anatomy worked. That with a wet pussy, patience and will, it fit, it always fit.

She just wondered at times. When she occasionally felt double stuffed, how did Helene?

They had been playing their game. Ada wasn't really sure when it had started, but when they'd decided to keep it open, while Harry was on tour, after communication and boundaries, occasionally she'd slip, when she was horny. She was always curious. So she started asking about it. His fantasies, experiences. It had started with men. She'd ask harry who he'd fucked, how, who he'd like to be inside, or have inside him.

Men were safer. She felt less threatened by them. They could give Harry things she couldn't give, simply. It wasn't her failing she had no cock, and Harry clearly liked what she did have. Enough to come home, to their home. So, men were first base. Girls for her.

The game went both ways, Ada shared some stories about times in college, and they'd get off to it.

They didn't talk about Helene. Because there were things she didn't want to know. Feelings there she wasn't entirely sure of, but could sense.

And Ada had almost, almost said 'not her!' When they'd finally discussed some poly logistics. He would be away, they were good, impossibly inevitably, good together, but they would not be physically together for months at a time. Ada was a sensual girl herself and, well, she didn't actually expect to use it, their widened boundaries. She may have done it to save herself feeling betrayed. In her head it was for him.

And then months went on, and she did. She indulged.

She used the free pass. Ada had sex, with a man. A friend of a friend at a dinner party. When they were introduced, there was that charge. So, unlike any other time before, she leaned into it. she'd been sleeping alone in her and Harry's big bed. And it had changed from alone to lonely, dry.

She didn't sleep with Raul there, of course. They got a hotel.

She left right after, and didn't get his number. And he thankfully understood what she could not say, and didn't get her number from Thandie. He never contacted her again.

She called Harry crying the next day. He was as he always was, loving and kind. Open, a talker.

She had slept with someone before him.

He didn't make her feel guilty about it. And he was honest when he slept with someone, didn't point out it was not just someone. He explained it though, without naming the name. It was harder for him, he explained. Required great trust, rules, and paperwork.

Ada knew who then. Why she couldn't preclude her.

Helene was safe at least.

Except for to her heart.

Ada had tried to puzzle it out. Why she set all her alarms bells ringing. She'd come down to a few reasons.

One, she was so different from Ada. A funhouse mirror image, opposite. Small, blonde, foreign, soft footed, soft spoken. Was that the appeal, the variety? It smarted, chapped her ass, sometimes uncomfortably, other times like a good spanking.

Because the other part, the flip side, Helene was nonetheless attractive. Ada could admit that. No matter how they differed. Ada could sometimes admit she was attracted. To herself.