The mobile phone announced it was six thirty by playing the opening of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck.
An arm shot out from under the covers as Darryl attempted to destroy the menacing mobile.
“Get up, sleepy,” Meg murmured. With her right knee on the side of the bed, she leaned in and kissed Darryl’s cheek. “You need to pick better tunes for your alarm.”
Darryl’s blue eyes slitted open and he grinned. “The tune is fantastic, but it’s too fuckin’ early.” As they took in Meg’s tight black jeans and jacket, his eyes widened. “Wow, you look fantastic.”
She giggled. “This surprises you?”
“Nah, but you have that vintage look. Like Whitney Houston’s album cover back…I don’t even remember when that was.”
“The 80s aren’t all that vintage yet.”
He slid a hand between her legs and felt the warmth. “Works for me.”
“Damn you; I gotta go.”
He laughed and pulled his hand back. “Fine, get going then. Have fun at work today.”
Standing up, she straightened her jacket. “I’m off today. Going to Evan’s for the morning. Then I’ve got my class.”
Darryl closed his eyes hoping it would hide his disappointment. “Have fun anyway. I’ll be here.”
Meg bent over and pecked his cheek again. Pushing brunette hair back over her shoulders, she made her way from the bedroom and to the apartment’s front door. Slipping into her ankle boots, she opened the door and got out to the hall.
Darryl opened his eyes and sighed. His stomach knotted up knowing he was, once again, on his own. His mind offered arguments for getting up but quickly lost.
There was no one to bring him coffee, though.
Not that he needed anyone to bring him coffee, he was talented at such things, but he liked the option.
“Fine,” he grunted and threw the covers off.
The shower washed him with its warmth and forced relaxation on him. With one hand against the tiled wall, he leaned forward, bowing into the water and watching it drip past his eyes. A few deep breaths and he was finally ready to actually apply some soap to his body.
After pulling on his faded jeans and an old black t-shirt, the next step was the previously thought of coffee.
Snapping up his mobile from the side table, he made his way to the coffee maker. Putting his favourite black mug, with the Pirates of the Carribean logo, into the dispenser, he waited for the brew. Glancing at his phone, he found the notification of a text from Meg and flipped it open.
“Made it to Evan’s, and he sent me back to bed.”
Darryl’s stomach clenched again, and he felt the blood drain from his face.
He always wanted to know where she was and what she was doing, but now that she had an actual boyfriend, this was harder than he anticipated. Darryl had always known Meg would need more than just him; he had told her as much many times. That didn’t stop him from feeling disappointed at being proven right. Polyamory, for him, was like a puzzle that required the right piece placements. Not all pieces fit as smoothly as he had hoped.
He thumbed in his response, “Good girl. You went from covers to covers, babe. And no noticeable bruises. We have a book launch this weekend.”
No response followed. The chat function showed the message was delivered but not read.
The coffee maker gave an annoying buzz at being ignored.
Pulling the mug out, Darryl walked to his computer and sat at the desk before setting the steaming mug down on a coaster. A mouse shake ignited the monitor. He began to type.
As he clacked away at the keyboard, the shadows of the apartment moved with light filtering between the mostly-closed blinds. The couch looked comfy to no avail. The refrigerator clicked its engine on and off but, much as it tried, it couldn’t distract him either. Even the food and drink inside the fridge could call out loud enough to catch the writer’s attention.
The one thing that could pull his attention away finally called for it. The mobile chirped its triumphant whistle upon receiving a text message.
Picking up the phone, Darryl glanced at the alert and then swiped for the message.
“Class is done. Going back to Evan’s.”
Again, his stomach knotted up and complained. At least he thought it was his stomach.
The shadows in the room suggested more than ten hours since he had sat at the machine. A check of the mobile’s clock confirmed this hypothesis.
Like a wet dog, he shook his head to get his senses going. He thought for a moment before allowing his thumbs to respond. “What about dinner?”
This time, the gray bar with three dots flashed, showing a quick response was coming. “You go ahead.”
His eyes went to the beckoning refrigerator. “Okay, hope you’re having a good day.” Rising from his chair, he went to the fridge and pulled out a large bottle of cola. Finding a large tumbler in the cupboard, he added ice from the freezer and poured the cola until it was half full. Replacing the cola, he then found a bottle of rum in another cupboard and filled the remaining tumbler space.
The mobile beckoned.
Darryl ignored it and went back to the keyboard and typed more.
By the third refill, he was filling the tumbler with half rum, a splash of cola, and no ice.
Finally, as he climbed into bed and reset his alarm, he checked the texts.
“You’ve no idea,” she said. “I’ll be home after work tomorrow.”
He checked the time, a severely blurry eleven, and passed out.
Five hours earlier…
“You’ve no idea,” Meg thumbed into her phone. “I’ll be home after work tomorrow.” Putting the phone aside, her eyes met those of the man between her legs.
The man licking between her legs was unknown to her. He was a friend of Evan’s that had joined them an hour ago. He was only the first to arrive.
“You finished?” Evan asked. He was naked, and on his knees beside her.
He took each of her wrists, in turn, and chained them back up to the bedposts. “You told him you’d be home tomorrow?”
She grinned. “After work, yes.”
Evan glanced down at the other man. “Condoms are in the top drawer when you’re ready.”
The man nodded with his chin sloppily brushing between her pussy lips.
“The others should be arriving soon,” Evan said as his eyes returned to Meg. “By the time tonight is done, you’ll have had twelve erections in that mouth.
Her tongue slipped out and licked her lips. “I can’t wait.”
Rising up on his knees, Evan lowered his cock to her lips. “And you really think I’m letting you go to work tomorrow?”
“No, sir,” she hissed. “I hope not.” Puckering, she kissed the tip of the offered erection.
He chuckled. “Does Darryl even know I’m your boss?” His right hand found her nipple and pinched hard.
She shook her head and did not flinch at the pinch.
Evan released the nipple and followed it by slapping her right breast. “Does he know that your body belongs to me?”
Her eyes met his and she smiled around his cock.