Much as I wanted to turn my head and deeply kiss Aclysia the same way, this was a bridge that had not yet been crossed. It wouldn’t be her first kiss, by her own words she had wasted it foolishly on a boy who she had lost interest in swiftly afterwards (as happened regularly with teenagers). That she kept her first kiss with me for so long did speak to an increased wisdom.

Across the cabin table sat Willt and Arlethia. The two of them were also making out. We occupied the same, isolated space, yet were in entirely different places.

Had it not been for the bag, I would have kept playing with both of them during the remaining walk back home. I had to delay that until we were past the door.

Expectedly, the drunkard most enthusiastic about the afterparty was in no state to continue drinking. Between then and now, Willt had calmed down considerably and now he looked as tired as a bear that had just realised it was winter. A hungry grin on her lips, Arlethia dragged her boyfriend up to their part of the mansion on the third floor. She would tuck him in pleasurably, I was sure.

That left the three of us.

The mansion was vast and there were quite a few corners that I had hardly used before. In one of the many rooms besides my own, there was a couch and a table. The three of us placed the drinks there. I brought the laptop with me, to entertain us with various videos or at least provide music. The latter was what we ultimately decided on, as our attention firmly laid with one another.

“I’m not certain I should,” Esther said, while I questioningly held up the bottle of wine. Aclysia already had her glass and I preferred the beer, all that remained to be seen was what the lady of my love would claim as her beverage.

“You don’t have to,” I assured her. To lend additional credence to those words, I moved the bottle into a less demanding position. “Some drinking is fun,” I explained my position. “It’s not like sex with someone you love though. To compare an orgasm to the depths of jolly drunkenness is to compare, foolishly, the taste of supermarket cheese to a gourmet meal presented by a number of women most willing. Albeit that cheese is indeed a manifestation of raw deliciousness, it will never measure to the complete fulfilment of proper and carefully crafted… food.” I stopped myself there, as the point was made. “Also, cheese doesn’t give you a headache if you eat too much of it.”

Esther gave it a bit more consideration before saying, “I will abstain.”

“Fair enough,” I responded, keeping the disappointment from my voice. The sole reason why I had suggested this path was because I wanted to find out what kind of drunk she was. My ulterior motive, selfish as it was from the outset, should not be used to guilt her. I was a minorly possessive boyfriend, not a manipulative one. “Water?” I suggested instead, having brought a pitcher of it with me.

Esther gladly accepted that. A wine glass filled with plain water may have been heretical in the eyes of convinced alcohol enjoyers, but between us three, that passed. We toasted with water, wine and beer, and leaned back in silence after the first sips had been taken.

I clicked my tongue, covered in the delightfully bitter taste of beer, annoyed with myself.

“What is the matter, my Karitas?” Esther asked. Like always, her addressing me this way sent delightful shivers down my spine. As if her voice, the audible equivalent of velvet gliding over bare skin, was not enough to arouse the mind, the particular speaking quirk that so easily conveyed her endearment with me only brought mine to new heights.

I leaned over and kissed her, needing no other reason than my adoration. Beyond her red lips, I desired to resume the tactile worship of her body. In this lay the origin of my annoyance. “I need three hands,” I complained. My left was on Aclysia’s plump derriere, my right held the beer, and Esther’s curves went undeservedly untouched.

In a normal situation, the obvious solution was the table in front of me. Normal, this situation was not. Other rules applied to regular drinking than to drinking with two gorgeous, not to mention interested, women. Once the beer was on the table and my right on Esther’s body, heavenly and hellish in sight and seductiveness, they would remain there.

“Let me be of assistance,” Aclysia whispered into my ear and took the beer from me. Daringly, she took a sip and then leaned in for a kiss.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The intent was unmistakable, my will wavering at the suggestion. Openly perverted as I was, it was a wonder that the gentleman in me won over and I placed a finger on her soft, pink lips. “You’re drunk,” I told her. “You don’t want our first kiss to be like that.”

Her expression was cryptic, while she looked at me with her green eyes. It remained difficult to ascertain how much the alcohol did truly affect her. In the end, she swallowed. “You’re right, my future Master.”

My pants turned into the tightest confinement possible. ‘Master’ truly was a deadly weapon shaped into a single word. Spoken by any attractive woman, especially the ones I was attracted to, it turned immediately into a spell that slowed my thoughts and quickened my pulse. “No ‘hopeful’?” I asked, since that was usually an adjective used in conjunction.

“I want to be closer to you,” Aclysia confessed and physically backed up her words by pressing against me. “Closer to being part of your Anomalia. Many suitors reach out to me…” I knew that. We shared some classes through the week and it was rare that I didn’t have to shoo away some competitor. “...yet, there is only one man I have met thus far who I wish to call my Master.” Her lips were right next to my ear, whispering the obvious. “You, Karitas.”

I was wrong. It was possible for my pants to feel even tighter., I felt like they were ready to burst now. Matter of fact, I did feel the zipper lowering a tad. “We should talk more about this tomorrow,” I said, feeling my lustful side scream out in agony. I could have kissed her. I could have added her to my Anomalia right then and there. For someone to join an Anomalia, all that was required was a simple ritual between the founder, being me, and the joiner, being her, during a moment of honest and genuine affection.

Such moments came easily to us, at this time in our relationship, and this current one more than certainly qualified.

“Indeed, we should,” Esther added, her tone slightly frosty.

I hadn’t done anything wrong in this situation, so I was spared my Queen’s annoyance in this instance. The disgruntled gaze of her mildly yellow eyes was entirely aimed at Aclysia. Swiftly, the white-haired woman lowered her head. “I did not wish to ignore your authority, Lady Esther,” she apologised. “Is this beyond the agreement we reached?”

“It is not,” Esther conceded and took the beer from the maidly woman. She took a sip herself, confusing me until her lips approached mine. Eagerly, I accepted the mixture of her saliva and sparkling beer. A drop of it pearled down my chin. After our lips parted, she gazed into my eyes. An enigmatic mixture of emotions laid out there. “Fully accepting that he will not be exclusively mine anymore will be difficult,” she said and then reached for the water. She washed the taste of beer from her mouth. “I do not like this bitterness.”

“Beer is often an acquired ta-ah-ha-ste,” I stuttered through the last word, as Esther grabbed my groin. What had been a bulge became a clear outline of my manhood. “You are playing with fire, my dearest Queen,” I warned her.

“And it flickers so amusingly,” she returned.

“May I do as much?” Aclysia pleaded submissively, trailing one hand up my thigh. My sober mind made a mental note that the half-elf got incredibly daring when she was under the influence. My perverted mind finally scored a win, as I nodded. There was only so much resistance I could put up in one evening.

It was an absolutely horrible mistake.

Two women were massaging my manhood through my pants. Nothing further happened. Aclysia had reclaimed enough of her reason that she claimed seeing my cock before joining my Anomalia would have been improper. My Queen decided to join that logic, most likely to tease me. I had to endure the tormenting touch, mustering all my will to not unload in my pants.

Life had its ups and downs.

That steady distraction aside, it was a nice evening. We continued talking about this and that, exchanging details about our week we had not divulged prior. Because we frequently met in classes and because Aclysia had more than once visited us here in our free time, we knew the majority already. With good friends, there was always something else to discuss, or a silence to be enjoyed together. High as that standard was, I did want all of my haremettes to not only be my lovers but also my friends.

After downing an additional bottle of wine, even Aclysia started to slur her sentences. Esther and I were starting to get tired at that point, so we called it a night.

“May I shleep with you?” Aclysia asked. Sexily adorable, she was on all fours on the couch, looking up to me and Esther with big green eyes.

“…Sure,” I sighed, knowing that I had prolonged my torment. Gone was the option to take my previous frustrations out by driving Esther into the mattress. Even if I could convince the lady of my lust to undress to the necessary degree in front of Aclysia, it would have violated the unspoken accord of keeping my dick hidden.

If she hadn’t been drunk, I would have disregarded that accord completely. There was only so much a man could be asked to endure before grabbing a clearly willing female and pinning her against the wall. Sadly, because she was drunk, I did not want to do anything to her that she may regret in the morning.

So, I had to sleep with blue balls. In my underwear.

Had there not been two gorgeous women snuggled up to me, I might have gotten mad.

__________________________________________________________________________