Lust Triangles: Room For A Third

Robby, Alison and Jesse crammed themselves into one apartment last week. Robby and Alison also crammed themselves onto a dinner date that ended with zero fooling around. Morning found Alison parading around the living room in the tiniest tank top she owned, hips cocked like a neon sign, while Robby sat glued to the TV. Either he needed glasses or he genuinely had no clue. She finally threw in the towel—literally—and shuffled off to the shower. She ran into Jesse in the hall, unloaded the saga, then vanished behind the bathroom door. Jesse smelled opportunity. She sauntered over to the couch, dropped onto Robby’s lap, and received the same polite brush-off. Robby spilled the beans: he was crazy about Alison and didn’t want to rush her. Jesse’s brain switched to wicked mode. She lied, smooth as butter—Alison wasn’t interested, not one bit. Robby wilted, shrugged, and figured why not take what was offered. Clothes hit the floor. They were mid-thrust when Alison stepped out in a towel the size of a postage stamp. Jesse dove behind the recliner. Alison’s eyes locked on naked Robby and his very obvious hard-on. She read the signal loud and clear, dropped the towel, and climbed aboard. The couch springs sang. Jesse tried crab-walking toward the hallway, got busted, and confessed everything between guilty gasps. Robby and Alison traded a look, then grinned. They hauled Jesse into the pile—roomie problems, roomie solutions—and the three of them worked out their issues the old-fashioned way.