Page 97 of The Triangle

We are probably not going to survive.

At least not all of us will.

One or more of us will die. Soon. It is the price of doing business in the way we have for as long as we have. The assault on Danny’s apartment was timed to happen when all of us were together. As one. It is not a coincidence.

Whatever it is that has happened out there in the world beyond our forest-walled fortress, it is waiting. It will not abate. It will wait for us to emerge from our hiding place and will make its presence known with force.

I’m not scared. I’m not sad. I don’t know that I’m capable of feeling those emotions. But when I think of losing Danny and Christine, I am disconsolate.

I wasn’t before. Not the night in Prague when everything fell apart. Because I knew it wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be. Our story wasn’t done being written. There was more for us to know about each other.

That was not the end because the triangle had not yet been completed. The lines were so very close to being fused and finished, but we hadn’t yet fulfilled our destiny.

Now we have.

And maybe what Danny said to me is true. Maybe the coming together of us as one does somehow weaken us rather than make us stronger. Because, after all, he is right. When you love something so much that it will cost you dearly to lose it, it gives your enemies something to target. The one place on poor old Achilles where the armoring waters did not fully bathe him. A point of entry where someone can come in and steal your blue, blue heart.

I’m not maudlin and I’m not macabre. I’m simply realistic. And the reality is that I don’t know how many more chances we’ll have to be together as we are right now. And so, I’m in no great hurry to let this moment pass.

I push Christine and Danny forward and drop off the bench onto my knees. Christine keeps working Danny’s hard cock and he digs his hands into her shoulders.

Now, on my knees behind her, I spread her ass open once more, wanting to ensure that when I place my cock inside it, she’ll be ready.

My tongue laps its way into her asshole and swirls about as with my hand, I cup her from underneath and slide one, two, three fingers inside the walls of her pussy. Her knees shudder, and just when I think I couldn’t possibly get a fourth digit inside her as well, my hand presses upward involuntarily and my pinky slides inside her too.

A muffled yelp from her. She slams her head forward and back around Danny even harder now, and I massage her insides, feeling her saturating wetness spill all around my fingers, across my palm, and down my wrist.

As I told Danny before, when dealing with a situation in which one finds oneself without the appropriate resources, one must find ways to improvise. The improvised lubricant Christine, Danny, and I just created feels like it will help us hitchhike all the way to our destination.

I pull my fingers out, smearing her sex all over her own ass and all over my throbbing dick. Standing up, I draw her back into my hips, spreading her ass cheeks as I do and slowly, but firmly, slide my cock deep inside her asshole. She freezes, tensing up all over, but then, after a moment, she relaxes and begins grinding.

I pull her back, she pulls Danny back, and I lower myself once again onto the bench. And also once again, an odd, some might almost say orgasmic tune gets hammered out by my shoulder blades on the keys.

And as Christine takes all of me deep inside her, and also takes all of Danny deep inside her, I close my eyes and what I hear in my head isn’t an atonal cacophony of notes getting mashed about by the grinding of our bodies.

It’s a fugue.

It’s an opera.

It is a symphony written by the three of us.

I only hope it’s not a requiem.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX - CHRISTINE

We’ve had a lot of sex today. And all of it has been good. The kind of sex you only have when time is running out. Desperate, reckless sex.

But this isn’t sex.

This is what I’ve been waiting for since the very first moment I fell in love with them.

This is the love we found. The years we shared, the years we didn’t, and the longing we’ve felt growing between us for the past ten years.

This is the shape of our love.

The perfect equilateral triangle.

My hands grip Danny’s cock as I suck and lick him into a state of bliss. His hands have a tight hold of my hair and every time I take him deep into my throat he clenches his fists, the hair-pulling sting sending a chill through my whole body.