Published in: Best Bisexual Erotica 2
Shefali struggled up from sleep, her body aching. The baby moved within her, restless. The gentle movement of the car, which had soothed her earlier, now provoked a quick wave of nausea. At four months, she had expected to be past the queasiness, and it was certainly better now than it had been; for the first three months she had done little else but try (and fail) to keep food down. She hadn’t got any of her work done, and it was just a good thing that the small start-up she worked for had a generous policy on maternity leave. Shefali would have been fine financially even if they’d laid her off; between Gabriel’s doctor’s salary and Roshan’s internist’s pay, they didn’t really need her programming money. But every little bit helped with a baby on the way, especially since they weren’t likely to be getting any help from her parents or Roshan’s. Though perhaps this trip would change that.
Her back was sore, despite the pillows the guys had tenderly tucked around her when they settled her in the back of the car. Her back was sore and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton; the baby was kicking and the last thing she wanted to hear right now was what she was pretty sure she was hearing from the front seat. Her eyes were still closed, but she knew that sound, that slick slide of hand on cock, the quick rise and fall of Gabe’s breaths. She had heard that sound so many times in the last few months — she had watched, fascinated, as Roshan’s dark hand slid up and down the pale shaft. Sometimes he would add his mouth, the tongue slipping out to caress the bulbous head, the long curve of cock. She had taken mental notes. Everyone said that gay men gave the best blow jobs, and as a straight woman who was now fucking a bi guy, she figured she needed to study if she wanted to keep up. Though Gabriel always refused to comment when she asked him if Roshan was better. "Comparisons are odious."
She could smell the excitement rising from them both, the sweat in the small, closed car. Why didn’t they open the damn window? So what if it was icy cold outside? At this rate, they’d fog up the windows and then crash the car into a tree and they’d never make it to her parents, which would be a relief in many ways — her stomach clenched — but it would not be fair to the baby.
"Hey, you fuckers. There’s a goddamned baby in the car, you know."
Shefali opened her eyes to see Gabe half-twisted in his seat, watching her, smiling. Roshan’s left hand was on the wheel, his eyes on the road — but his right arm was stretched across the gap between the seats, his right hand invisible, buried in Gabe’s crotch.
"Well, technically," Roshan said, "it’s not a baby yet." His eyes flicked back and forth from glancing at Shefali in the rear view mirror, to watching the empty highway opening before them. "The clinical term is fetus."
"Oh, thanks." Shefali said. "I didn’t know that. Thanks for that very helpful bit of information. Now will you two stop fucking already? All you ever think about is sex!"
Roshan’s arm continued its slow motion, up and down. Gabriel grinned, his face flushed. "Well, technically, this isn’t fucking, you know. I can show you fucking later, if you want, Shef. I’d be happy to teach you…."
"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Shefali was hit by an almost overwhelming urge to cry; she squeezed her eyes tight, clenched her fists together.
"Hey — hey." Before she could catch her breath, Gabriel was climbing over the gearshift into the back seat, squeezing into the small space to the right of her, pressing one gentle hand on her knee. Shefali opened her eyes to find him watching her, concern sharp on his face. His pants were still undone, and a thick erection jutted out. It should have been funny.
"What’s wrong, Shefali?" That was Roshan. "Should I pull over?"
"No, no — we’re late already. My mom’s going to kill me. She hates it when dinner gets cold. She’ll have the samosas and vadai in the oven by now; she’s probably checking the clock. The drinks are made; my sister’s setting the table." Shefali was babbling; she knew it, but she couldn’t seem to stop. "The rice will be ready in half an hour. The curries have been simmering for hours; they’ll be okay, but if the rice sits too long, it won’t taste as good, you know." And now she was blubbering, tears welling up in her eyes, pooling there as she refused to give in and cry. Shefali hated crying. She almost never cried. She Roshan was pulling over, taking an exit she didn’t know, pulling into a small off-road station, an empty parking lot. They parked under the shade of a huge tree, its bare branches coated with last night’s heavy snow.
"She’s not going to kill you," Gabriel said.
"She will…she will." Shefali was shaking now, her body shuddering. She couldn’t seem to stop it, even though this kind of emotional outburst couldn’t be good for the baby. Sometimes she hated having to think about what would be good for the baby. She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking against the smooth fabric of the back seat. Now Roshan was climbing out of the car, opening the door to her left, climbing into the back, somehow squeezing into the seat and pulling her into his arms. She was engulfed in the broad strength of him, his solid chest supporting her. Skinny Gabriel was squished into an even smaller corner of the backseat, gently rubbing her knee; the fabric of her loose skirt slid up and down against her bare leg. She could feel the weight of their concern, their love, wrapping around her like a blanket. But she was still shaking.
"No, she won’t," Roshan said firmly. His arms wrapped around her. "And if she looks like she wants to, we’ll climb right back in the car and drive back to Boston. They said they wanted to meet Gabriel; they wanted to talk to us all in person. Fine. But if they give you any grief at all, we’re going to leave. We can manage just fine without them."
"I know, I know…" Shefali did know. They had talked about all this endlessly — when her parents first asked them to come out, while planning the trip, in the car over the last two days. This was a ridiculous time to get the shakes, when they were less than half an hour from her parents’ house. "…I just don’t want to have to manage without them." Roshan’s arms tightened around her body. "I want my Amma…." And now she was sobbing, tears finally flowing down her cheeks.
She knew she must look awful, but she couldn’t stop. There was just so much to cope with — they’d been doing pretty well working out their own problems, but there were her parents who still screamed at her over the phone, and Roshan’s, who barely spoke to him. Gabriel’s father had been quiet, but at least he wasn’t actively hostile. She wished Gabe’s mother were alive. She wanted a woman to talk to about this. She had never had close female friends, and now she wanted one desperately. The guys were terrific, and medically trained, so they gave her all the information she wanted about the baby. More than she wanted. What she really wanted was her mother — and Shefali didn’t know what her mother would do when she finally met the bisexual Jewish man her daughter had fallen in love with; when her mother was forced to confront the reality of the triad they had created. Shefali just didn’t know — and she hated it when she didn’t know what was going to happen.
Roshan kept holding her, and when her sobs eased and she could see properly again, Gabriel was looking anxiously at her. She blinked the remaining water out of her eyes. He looked almost frightened — well, that wasn’t surprising, really. Shefali couldn’t remember the last time she’d let herself cry in front of anyone. It had been years. Maybe this was the first time he’d seen it. She tried to smile, to reassure him. A quick smile answered her, though his eyes were still worried.
"Shef — I can’t promise it’ll be okay with them. But I can promise that I’m here for you. And you know Roshan is too, right? You know how much we love you…."
She did know that. The last two years had been hard sometimes, but they’d worked through things, together. They’d gotten through a lot. Her body relaxed a little in Roshan’s arms, and his arms relaxed as well.
"I’ll be all right. It was just everything piling up, you know? And then waking up, and not feeling well, and hearing you two going at it again, when I haven’t even wanted to have sex in months…."
That had really bothered her. She’d been so sick for a while, and then after that, the guys had still been solicitous of her; Gabriel had been careful not to press her for sex, had assumed that she wouldn’t want to be bothered. He and Roshan had discreetly kept their sex play for the study, and for when they assumed that she was fast asleep. Lately, though, she hadn’t been sleeping well, and she’d often woken to hear them — hear Gabe, at least. Roshan never made any noise at all.
She looked at Gabriel — her eyes slid down, to where his penis still stuck out, not as hard as before, but not quite soft yet either. Her cunt shivered, a swift contraction sliding through her. Gabriel followed her eyes down, and then looked at her again.
"Hey." His voice was soft.
She didn’t know what to say, but when his hand slid down from her knee, down along the fabric to its edge, resting on her bare ankle, she leaned back further in Roshan’s arms, sliding her foot towards him. And when he slid his hand back up, under her skirt, to gently begin caressing her thigh, Shefali bit her lip, and moaned softly in the back of her throat. It had been so long.
He slid forward, and his fingers found the moisture between her thighs. She had started masturbating again a few days ago, and had found that being pregnant made her wetter than she had ever been before. It had surprised her, and it seemed to surprise Gabriel too. He made a small sound, and his cock hardened. A finger slid inside her, curving upward to find that sweet spot — she had had to teach him where it was, but he had gotten so good at touching it, stroking it; and now his thumb had found her clit, was rubbing slickly over it; and Roshan’s mouth was at her neck, his lips leaving light feathery kisses over shivering skin, then sucking gently, his arms holding her as Gabe moved inside her, pushing her up and up, until she felt herself expanding, exploding, still held tightly in Roshan’s arms.
When she came back to herself, she tilted her head back and grinned up at Roshan. "Hey — aren’t you supposed to be gay?"
He smiled back at her. "What, I’m not allowed to help a little?" His expression softened, and his hand came up to stroke her long hair, fingers slipping gently through it. "It’s good to see you smiling, Shefali."
"You too." A vast peace settled inside her as she turned back to Gabriel, who looked very uncomfortable, crammed into a corner of the backseat, with his cock still sticking out of his pants. "Hmmm…do you think we could…?"
Gabriel laughed. "I don’t think so. There’s just not enough room — not if I don’t want to squish the baby." His hand came up to rest on her barely-rounded stomach — not pressing down, just resting gently there. "And we’re late, and we really ought to stop at a motel and shower if we don’t want your folks to know exactly what we were just doing. But if you’re okay for now, then I think I can wait. We were just messing around earlier, you know — killing time on the road. I’m not as sex-crazed as you think I am, you know."
Shefali grinned. "Uh huh."
"Are you okay, Shef? Really okay? Not just on an endorphin rush?" Gabriel kept his eyes locked on her, waiting for her answer.
She felt fine — better than she had in a long time. She felt like she could cope with this baby; could maybe even cope with her parents. Shefali wasn’t sure how long the feeling would last; her mother had a way of making her feel twelve again. But with both of her guys there to help hold her up — to carry her through it — she thought she’d probably be okay, at least for now.
Shefali reached out a hand and took Gabriel’s in hers. She squeezed it hard, and his face relaxed, the lines smoothing out. Then Roshan’s big hand came to engulf both of theirs.
They stayed like that, despite the lateness of the hour and the discomfort of the cramped back seat, for just a little while longer.