What Are The Odds?

"I could stay right here forever." She mumbles on my lips.

"Mmm." Is all I can say and then it's my turn to gasp in pleasure as she slowly rolls her hips, grinding her mound against me and moving me deep inside her. Her juices leak tickling down my balls and we squelch loudly together. Our sex fills the air around us with noise and scent and with her hair shrouding my face I fell encompassed in her, as if I've been drawn into a bubble of time and space where the only thing that exists is the heat, the sweat, the musky smell, the face above me. A place that swallows us both like she holds my cock inside her.

Her rocking crescendo takes me to the edge of abyss and my balls boil, pulling up tight against me. With an involuntary shout of "Sashaaaa," I cum deep inside her. Pumping, pumping, gushing in that sweetest cave that rocks still faster till her own orgasm washes through her. Above me, she rocks with each breath and wave of bliss, catching her breath as it rolls through her again, then again, then again.

"Oh Jimmy." She sighs collapsing on my chest her vagina still clenching spastically on my flagging dick.

Time ceases and we simply breathe each other in and out and melt our selves together. My fingers play in her hair, then along her back feeling her spine beneath the fabric of her tiny dress.

I'm wondering if she's passed out or sleeping until with an awkward queefing squelch I flop from her and our puddled creation slides down my balls.

"That's gonna leave a stain," she giggles and rolls off me to stare at the ceiling.

My eyes have adjusted to the darkened unit and I can see her more clearly now. Her face is lit with deep contentment and I wonder if I look just as goofy. Then a sudden noise shocks us both to action.

Clap... Clap... Clap... "THAT was fucking HOT."

"God Trina, you were there the whole time?" Sasha giggles and I pull my boxers back up.

"So, I gather the ah, 'talk' went alright then?" Trina asks sarcastically.

"Haha, you could say that." She laughs, then quietly to me, "I need the loo."

Standing she straightens her dress then addresses Trina. "Him too."

"Him too? Fuck off, no way."

"Uhuh."

As she stumbles down the hallway to the bathroom Trina says, "What are the fucking odds of that?"

"He's the mathematician," Sasha calls back, "Ask him."

Gathering my freshly fucked wits and hopefully enough muscle memory to rise from the floor I'd been virtually fucked through, I make some quick calculations and look across the darkened lounge where Trina is lying on the couch. "Taking two random simultaneous selections from a suitably large sample of population it would have to be one in six to the second. So, one in thirty-six, given CDC statistics that one in six people have genital herpes."

She thinks for a moment then contradicts me, "You're wrong dickhead. It would be one in 216. "

I don't want to argue maths with her and I am feeling particularly awkward about our impromptu sex show when Sasha thankfully returns with three beers.

"Get that in you tiger, I wanna try that again with our clothes off shortly."

Bizarre, is how I would describe sitting freshly fucked with your girlfriend's flatmate having a recuperative ale and listening to Sasha give Trina a blow-by-blow of our date. I leave them to it and drag my beer to the shower to wash off the sweat and embarrassment.

TRINA

My name is Katarina Janis Koppel. I am thirty-two years old and live with my best friend and kind of sister, Sasha. I have known her since I my parents Elmo and Astrid moved our family from Estonia to Australia and bought a share in the O'Sullivan's dairy farm. The O'Sullivan's were very kind to my parents. John (Blue) taught my father all he needed to know about dairying and helped my parents whenever needed.

Naturally Sasha and I, living so closely to each other became fast friends. We attended the same school and I was just a few grades above her. She helped me with my English. Sassy as I call her, and I have been through most of life's landmarks together. Puberty, crushes, boyfriends, break-ups and it came easily to us both.

Sasha was tall and pretty in a very Australian swim team sort of way. Boys noticed her easily and when she set her mind to any conquest whether it was sports or seduction, she always came first place. In truth I didn't need to envy her. I was born with my mothers looks. She was a classic Estonian beauty. Tall, with flawless symmetry to her face, almost purple eyes and white blonde hair she was impossible not to notice.

My father was six foot seven. He was more Nordic in his looks, with sharp rugged features and cheeky blue eyes that held endless mischief. He was my co-conspirator in all my tom-boy escapades. The ones that horrified my mother. Hunting, riding dirt bikes, driving the tractor; all the joys of farm life. As I grew, he became my guide in life. I loved my mother but my father was my life.

Then the boiler took them both from me. I had no-one in Australia and no idea of relatives back home. So the O'Sullivans took me in.

I don't know why I never inherited either of my parents' heights. At sixteen, I was still only five foot tall while Sassy had outgrown me already. We were very popular at school. Me with my mother's beauty and my long honey coloured hair and Sassy with her tall easy Australia prettiness. Life was easy to us. Our looks got us attention and a kind of social privilege.

One afternoon while walking home from the bus stop a car load of young men drove past and wolf-whistled loudly. We smiled at each other as they screeched to a halt and reversed back down the bitumen. One look at their faces and the brown bottles in their hands as they got out of the car and approached us was enough to know that we were in trouble. We ran.

Sasha was fast and I ran hard. When I felt the first hand grab at my school bag I yelled at her to keep running and get help.

They told me I was beautiful. They told me that my hair was gorgeous, my face so pretty, my skin so soft... All four of them.

Then afterward they got into their car cheering and whooping and squealed their tyres as they drove off.

Greg and Sasha found me stumbling down the dirt road a short time later. I showered until the water went cold and then I cut my hair off. I hacked at it with scissors I found in the bathroom cupboard. I never wore dresses ever again. I never used make up. No one was going to look at me that way again.

When Sasha told me first about Jim, I thought, "Poor guy doesn't stand a chance."

She told me of her attempts to get his attention. Finding tasks to do on his floor of the building. Using the copy room down there instead of upstairs hoping to 'bump' into him. And then the thing with the creepy dude happened and I heard all about it. "Can't believe he's a sleaze bag too. What sort of arsehole pretends to be a senior partner to try and get in your pants?"

I especially laughed when she found out that he was the son of her boss.

Having prepared myself to hate him, this man who was unwittingly taking my Sassy from me, my heart flipped when I saw him. So tall like my father, lean and with blue eyes that were so familiar it was cruel. But my father would have seen through Sasha's seduction, not this dickhead though.

The ultimate cruelty however was that he 'saw' me. Those blue eyes were the first male eyes to find mine and smile since I cut my hair all those years ago. Most men simply assume I'm some kind of bull-dyke and leave me alone. But he looked at me and smiled. I instantly hated him.

I was happy for Sasha though. She'd been in some weird celibate funk since that Gary fuckwit gave her the big H and she fucked him off. Vicariously I enjoyed the romance of her journey with the dickhead and I wondered one day if I'd ever feel the same.

Standing there that Saturday morning waiting for the dickhead's appraisal of Sasha's dolly session with me, feeling disgusted with myself for even entertaining the idea I realised I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to find me attractive. I wanted his approval and I hated him even more for that.

It happened at the beach. I was walking along gathering cuttlefish shells giving them some space when I realised, I loved him. I loved him because he reminded me of the gentle strength and kindness of my father. I saw it in his eyes. But he was Sassy's. And that was ok. I might love him, but I don't trust him enough to want him. So I let it just be what it was, a kind of 'daddy' crush.

The kiss thing at the pool... Oh my god. We did it as a kind of mean trick on him. You know like naughty mischief. But fuck, I wasn't ready to want him. As I kissed him and deliberately ground against his hardening dick, I felt myself swell with instant arousal and was thankful for my wet swimsuit. I had to run inside.

I cried in the shower. I hadn't felt like that for a man since before that day I'd cut my hair. I'd had girlfriends. Hell, sometimes even Sassy and I fool around but not for a man. And not for one I clearly can't have.

This evening when I was at Mel's place watching Sleepless in Seattle for the sixty three thousandth time, I told her of my 'valentines' date with Trina and dickhead and she saw right through me. She still face-fucked me to glorious gooeyness then sent me home saying I needed to think and maybe even talk to them about it.

Fuck that.

So I sat in the dark at home pondering my dilemma. Hating myself for loving him. Hating him for making me love him. When all of a sudden, they crashed in the door and fucked like two dogs in the street. She didn't even get her dress off, just ripped his pants off, threw him to the floor and fucked his fucking brains out.

Just like I wanted to.

I listened to Sasha walk me through a teary tale of bravery and risk and ultimately love and I cried. She thought I was crying with her but I was crying for myself. Would a man like that ever want a broken hiding thing like me? Could they even? Would I even let one? Could I ever be brave enough to love?

Then later as I lay in bed listening to them fuck, ("Making sure those oysters paid off," Sasha winked as she left me on the couch and took herself to him in the shower.) I put my hand to my own needs and for a while I imagined it was him. My orgasm surprised me with sudden fury and force then I cried again. I cried for a little girl who was beautiful and never could be again.

They fucked all night. I didn't get to sleep until the sun was coming through the shades.

Sasha and Jim entered what I call their 'Brief Happy Ever After' following that night. They were lovers and did all those things that lovers do. I found myself wonderfully content to be included as their third wheel. Some of that love rubbed off on me and I loved the dickheads affection as futile and self-destructive as that crush was.

Sasha finished her law degree, passed her exams and started taking on her own clients. It was more work for her and as reality does, it crept in to their fairy-tale and slowed the burn a little. A horrible part of me took pleasure in Jim's attention on days he came to hang out while she worked the weekend or when he invited me to the farm to help with Effie while Sasha worked all day with his Dad.

For brief snippets of time I could dream he was mine.

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