At nineteen years old Miranda’s life was a focused blur of ambition. Never once did she lose her focus on capturing the American dream. Miranda yearned for the white picket fence, the two and a half children, the hunky husband pulling up in the driveway in his rumbling pick-up truck after a long day at work. John, remained focused on her.
Johns devotion was unfaltering, and Miranda admired that about him. He was amazing to her, showing support through any dream she chased. Any wish that whispered off of Miranda’s lips, John was eager to fulfill. In a sense, this very devotion is what caused John to lose her.
Miranda was a feisty girl. There was a fire inside her that burned to explore. To do more. See more. Achieve more. Naturally, as the hormones of nineteen year olds and Johns undying devotion mixed and mingled, the idea of a threesome sprinkled through the couples more intimate conversations. They were sensible about the arrangement though, crafting simple rules. John would chose the other man, Miranda the other woman, and the other one had to agree to the one chosen. Each would have their turn.
Miranda wasn’t a dumb girl though, she would have her turn first. That way if anything wasn’t up to par, or if she changed her mind, she could simply refuse to follow through on her half of the bargain. Not very kind, but at the time she didn’t understand how deeply her actions effected the boys she had hurt. She had yet to truly love, or to feel the pain that true love can cause.
But even that, would soon change.
One dark evening as the winds tore through the skies, Miranda’s house was bustling with people. Her mother and her mothers boyfriend, her sister and her sisters child, Miranda, John, and a half dozen of all their friends were enjoying a football game. Bets had been made and the energy around the living room television is exactly what lured Miranda into the crowd. Most the people in the house have been there a million times, but this time, there was a new face among the crowd. A new face that John thought would make the perfect victim for his and Miranda’s sexual scheming.
John asked Miranda if the man would do. The man that stood there a few feet from the kitchen bar, holding a beer in rough hands. She glanced at the man, standing there in his dirty work boots, his t-shirt perfectly emphasizing his broad muscular shoulders, his sheepish grin spread across his face as he watched Miranda look him over. He wasn’t really anything special. Miranda didn’t even find him all that attractive. No more or less attractive than the dozens of men that crossed her path each day. In a matter of seconds, Miranda shrugged her shoulders, he’d do.
Miranda enjoyed tormenting the man through the evening. As the energy rose through the living room and the bets went higher and higher, Miranda could feel the man’s eyes on her. She knew that the money he was betting was the last thing on his mind. She knew the power she so easily held and she relished in it as she lay there watching the game, soaking in the gaze of the man’s eyes.
The night wore on. The drinks emptied. Before long John, Miranda, and the man slipped into Miranda’s bedroom unnoticed. John kissed Miranda, easing her onto her bed. He slid her clothes off of her as the man watched. Miranda tipped her head back slightly, closing her eyes, feeling Johns touch across her body. Soon she felt the man’s warm kisses on her belly, his soft tongue across her breasts. John ran his hands up Miranda’s thighs, spreading her legs open.
Then the man pressed his gentle lips upon her own, and Miranda’s world vanished. John disappeared. Everything disappeared. Nothing, nothing but that man’s kiss existed. Miranda slowly opened her eyes, looking at the man who’s kiss had made her feel something she had never felt before. The man stopped and looked back at her. His eyes changed into the softest, warmest, deepest green she had ever seen, and before she could catch herself, Miranda fell.
Miranda didn’t know it at the time. John did. Later he would tell her that he saw that look cross her face, and he knew, just as the man knew, that John had lost her. She didn’t know why but everything stopped with that kiss. John backed away. The man backed away. She sat up and dressed herself. The man sat on her bed and John reached for a cigarette. Turning back around John saw Miranda’s lips locked on the man’s again. She couldn’t help herself. That kiss, that feeling, she couldn’t get enough of it. There was something there, and Miranda was determined as ever to find out what it was….
~TO BE CONTINUED~