"Perhaps I might suggest entering the arena with a grown man. I always imagined you liked more of a challenge?"

This was how it started.

No, I lie. Or rather, I shade the truth by leaving things out that may make you view what happens within the story in a different manner.

Here's the part that is left out ... it's the build up to that remark. It's what set up that remark from Max to me. It's possible that everything that happened from then on, well, that you might believe I am either a scoundrel, a bitch, an innocent or simply an opportunity he saw coming. Did he take advantage of the situation? Or did I? Or did something else happen here? Something I cannot process but something he understands and will help me deal with? If I knew, I wouldn't write about it. It's in writing about it that a writer delves and explores and comes to an understanding of circumstances she cannot yet fathom but knows intuitively will always have an impact on her viewpoint.

And so I begin to work my way through it by remembering as best I can.

I have been many things in my life as a woman. I just have never been this woman who wakes in this new morning and wonders if she's strong enough to be weak with him.

He told me if I trusted him, he could make it a beautiful experience for me.

In last night's crystal moment, it had been easy to trust him as he looked into me. In this shattered morning, what will he see in my eyes when he searches them? And I know he'll search for the truth in there. And he will find it. He might be the one man who can brutally shove his way through all my artifices and all my defense mechanisms.

We all know them, right? Those people who can simply push our buttons without any effort. They just seem to not only have the knack for knowing how to get us riled up, but they appreciate the power that gives them over us.

Max and I had circled each other before. I have never hidden the desire I feel for him; I've just never wanted to act on it. Maybe that's why it's so easy for him to pick at my self-confidence. Maybe that's why he does it ... maybe he realizes that beneath my bravado where he's concerned is something much deeper and much more complicated. Maybe that intrigued him. Or maybe he was just bored because he was alone for a few evenings at the pub.

But on those evenings, I kept dropping by whichever stool he'd have claimed at the bar to make little bits of conversation with him. I kept waiting on him to invite me for a drink or show some interest. And then I said something stupid; he got offended by a sexist remark. I got embarrassed when he called me on it. Even after giving and having my apology accepted, I was still embarrassed.

It took me two more nights to do more than nod at Max. But then Johnny Ryan walked into the pub for the first time. All tight white dusty jeans, blue flannel shirt, young face and sweet man-child boy that he was. I was at the bar, grabbing a drink before I went off to find someone to chat up ... and Johnny comes walking in. Gingerly. Trying to hide his unease to be entering the pub for the first time ... hiding it behind his own brand of light machismo. All I could do was stare at him when he slid onto a stool at the bar near where I was standing. I don't know why ... maybe it's because I'm older than he is and he still can make me want him. I never go for younger guys. Never have. I always like older men, experienced men, the kind you know will be a challenge but who will also know what a woman wants because they've learned how to read her. Now, whether or not they give you what you want ... well, that can go either way and it can be good either way, depending on what you want in that moment.

But sometimes, a woman doesn't mind an easier man, either. Must be like men and their eye candy, right? Sometimes, I can appreciate that it takes nothing more than a pretty face and good rack to turn a man's head. Of course, as it's usually a man's head turning from my addled conversation to watch some passing set of boobs attached to a body, I've got some experience seeing other women reduced to eye candy, but little experience seeing it directed my way.

Being around Max makes me nervous. And edgy. And awkward. I put my foot in my mouth much more often than I actually say anything remotely of interest.

But Johnny Ryan walking in the pub that evening and taking a seat near where I was standing at the bar? It took my mind completely off the nerves I felt standing next to Max's stool. I just stood there, staring at him ... at Johnny, I mean. He glanced up at me, this nervous little grin of his own aimed at me. I felt a light swelling inside me in response.

"You're standing on my foot," Max growled out to me.

It brought me out of my reverie. I jumped and Max's hand grabbed my arm to steady me. I was standing right there, almost on top of him. He was just looking at me but it was a certain kind of look. A look of interest. So, of course, I stuck my foot in my mouth immediately.

"Er ... excuse me for drooling, but I cannot believe Johnny's here at the bar with us. He is such a cutie," I said brightly. Max shook his head at me and turned back to his beer, dropping his hold on me. "What? Why are you shaking your head at me? He is cute. Just look at him."

"Then I suggest you make a move. That should make his night." I saw Max's jaw tighten. I turned my head away because I could feel a blush of embarrassment rushing over me. Why was I always saying stupid things around Max? But then, I felt his shoulder bump into me, like it was an accidental touch as he shifted on his seat except that he followed by dropping his voice low ... full bore, all man, aroused, on the prowl ... Max at his deadliest. He said, "Or perhaps I might suggest entering the arena with a grown man. I always imagined you liked more of a challenge?"

I swallowed this huge gulp. I felt my insides quake. Johnny's eyes met mine. We grinned at each other. I wondered if he thought I was flirting with him. I was. But it was like this defense mechanism. And then I thought about what Max had just said. Really thought about it. Really got it. Yeah, he hadn't been interested in me at all as long as he knew I was nervous and circling him. But now that I'd shown interest in some young guy who could no doubt run circles around Max, now he's going to hit on me? Now? You know, isn't that just typical of men? They ignore you until there's a challenger to their place of honor as the object of your interest?

And so he what? He thinks I'm that easy? He's talking like all he has to do is remind me he's a man and I'll stop drooling over the boy? Like he can appeal to my own deep longing to know him precisely because he's a challenging man? He thinks what? That I'll fall all over myself in gratitude for him finally showing some interest? You know what? That really pissed me off.

It pissed me off even more because I think he definitely had me all figured out. Fuck. That is just so ... so ... infuriating. But it's also rather ... titillating, isn't it? Imagine that ... imagine being a woman Max may want to snare in his trap. I could do with being the object of his lust, I thought.

So ... that said ... I can play cool with a man. It'd be a challenge with a man like Max, but it's possible. I think. Maybe.

"Eh? What's that? Enter what arena with what grown man? You?" I said and barely glanced at him. Instead, I smiled at Johnny, full watt.

He grinned back but then his eyes darted to Max, to acknowledge that Max might have had first dibs and that young Johnny recognized a force he wouldn't challenge.

I went to introduce myself to Johnny. He's got a nice handshake. I hated to let go. He apologized for the way he was dressed and I told him he was perfect ... all white jeans and blue flannel shirt ... all clean-shaved, hair combed, good smelling.

I figure Max must have thrown him some looks because of the way Johnny's eyes seemed to stray in his direction. I figure Max had gotten to the point where he was just staring, that focused look of his, the sneer he makes only with his eyes and the upward tilt of his chin. In this night, it must have been like a man proclaiming his territory. Somehow, this made me feel more confident.

"You with the old fella, Ann?" Johnny finally just asked me as he nodded toward Max. "Wouldn't like to muscle in where I'm not wanted, ya know? But -- if you fancy something a bit younger and a lot less tame, well, you know where I am, don't ya?"

"Don't go too far then, Johnny. I may just need proof of the 'lot less tame' before long," I said.

Yes, I knew the game was afoot. I knew I wanted Max to be in the game of seduction. It's why I deliberately strode those few paces back to his section of the bar and made a show of leaning in to pick up my beer.

"Not quite what you were hoping? Too easy, perhaps?" Max said as he indicated Johnny with a tilt to his head. We eyed each other up, me and Max. He leaned in very deliberately and whispered the words, "Are you up to the challenge I would be?"

"Um. Well ... God. It's no fair using that voice on me, Max. No fair at all. Especially when you lean in like that and say the word 'challenge' in just ... that ... way." I was stuttering. I hated that. He had this soft smile on his lips and his eyes traveled down toward my hands. My fingers. The ones tapping nervously on the bar. I shoved them behind my back and leaned in against the stool next to Max, all nonchalant and hoped I was fooling him ... knowing I wasn't ... but still going to try. "Besides ..." clearing my throat, "... besides, you may not be challenge enough for me. Ever thought about that? Or ... or maybe I'm too big of a challenge for you?"

He crooked an eyebrow at me before giving me this sensual lick of his lips and then widening his smile. I wanted him. Like nothing I'd wanted in ... in a long, long time. I wanted him in such a basic, primal way that I wasn't even having rational thoughts about it ... I was just overwhelmed with it. It's just that faced with that force of man, it's hard to not just want.

"Don't think I'm going to just fall at your feet if you keep looking at me like that. Because I won't. I promise," I said to him, my voice low and trying so hard to be tough. And then openly honestly confused by him. "You don't want me to, anyway ... do you?"

Max sighed as he turned to face me full on. He is not given to public pawing or overt sexual come-ons, in my observations. But when he's set his sights on a woman, he does it in a way that turns the heat to blazing, melting your resistance, firing your desire ... and he seemed to know that if he played me just a bit, I'd be in his control.

"I never appreciate an opponent who doesn't stand up and give me a fair fight. Even if I know I'm going to win," he said, his chin jutting down, amusement leaving his eyes. In its place, this look of uncompromising masculinity. He got tough with me, voice and body language. "Who knows - if they impress me enough, I might just let them go with a mauling. On the other hand, it depends if my blood is up ... do you know what I am like then? Would you like to know?"

Can he see me sweating, I thought. Surely he can't smell it yet, right? Jesus, Ann, quit licking your lips. And look him in the eye or he'll know he's got you on the run.

"So that's how it is, Max? I'm not that easy to take on. And I'm not without my own weapons, you know. Think you've got me worried? Hah. As if." My brave words ... his primal response. He rose from the stool and his body was right there by mine, in my personal space but not touching me per se. Just impressing on me that he was on the advance and not about to take prisoners. "Don't crowd me, Max. I'm not going to back down. You aren't trying to dare me, are you? I may surprise you."

"And ... just how, Ann, would you surprise me? I am ... a man with some worldly experiences. Unlike that boy you were fawning over. He may be an easy mark, but I am not. What might you challenge me with that you believe would surprise me?"

"Well ... I ... I may want something you wouldn't be able to handle," I said, licking my lips and feeling my chin come up. And, man, I suddenly felt the rush of defiance inside me. Damn him thinking he could get to me that easy. "Yes, I think that's it."

"Something I wouldn't be able to handle? Now there's a notion. Or are you going to challenge me to a 'bake a cake' competition or something equally ludicrous? Then I might have to admit defeat. But if you mean something best suited to both our talents then ... I rather think you are treading on dangerous ground. My ground. Did I just throw the gauntlet?

He looked smug but not smug ... know what I mean? Like he was curious if I might actually think I was really thinking I was capable of ever getting one over on him.

Jesus. What could freak out Max? It would have to be a challenge to his manhood. My mind raced; it took off down a path that was so inappropriate and so basic. A challenge to Max's manhood ... I immediately placed everything within a sexual context. What would challenge his manhood? Sex in public? No, because he might and I wouldn't. A sexual position? No, because that would be unlikely to be a challenge to him but it might be for me. I needed something he'd never agree to. And then it hit me. Max had come on to me only because it had been an affront to the seat of his manhood that I might have been willing to choose another man over him that night. That's when he got all in my face and challenging. So that was it.

He'd never agree. This was safe. So I just said it without thinking it out. "Three-way. You. Me. Another man. Tonight."

"You cannot possibly be serious."

"Thought you worked even better as a team. That only true when you're chained together?"

"Mockery does not become you, Ann ... Perhaps we should think on it awhile. Are you sure you want to test me in this way? Do you think this a step too far for me?"

"You're stalling, Max."

"I am not. I am allowing you the grace to change the challenge." I shrugged and was going to walk away; satisfied I'd heard the last of this. But this time, he hesitated a fraction of a moment when our eyes locked. The hesitation must have been him about to say no. But he plunged ahead and I think I knew why ... because he could read in my eyes that I figured he'd never agree. He called my bluff. "Wait! Very well. Find the third party. If there is any man here who would involve himself once he knew I was the other party. Somehow I think you may find there will be no takers. Your strike?"

And I could read it in his eyes and in his arrogant stance. He figured he was the victor in this round because he was so sure I'd never get any man in there to agree. He was also betting that I'd be the one to back down because he was reading in me that I didn't really have what it took to really go out and ask some other man in there something like this. But I knew one thing so clearly, so absolutely ... if I really did find someone to say he'd do it? Max would never do it. He'd freak.

I looked around the bar. Honestly, I couldn't picture any man in there who'd be willing to do something like that ... on a dare ... and with Max in the mix? Frankly, I couldn't see myself asking any of those men. I just couldn't ... But I also absolutely loathed the idea of having to back down before Max like this.

And then my eyes fell on Johnny. The new one. The one who'd teased me that he was there if I ever needed someone not so tame as Max. I smiled at him as I joined him at his table. He sat up straight and tried to look calm as I leaned in toward him. "Johnny? Would you like to help me win a bet?" I asked softly. "Look, just go along with me here, okay? I swear I need your help. Max ... Max is playing with me."

I told him about the bet with Max, the dare. 

"You said what?" Johnny said, his voice rising. He looked at Max and I saw him give this little nod. "He'd never do it. Too straight-laced. He's gotta be bluffing."

"He thinks I won't be able to find someone who'd help me face him this way. But Johnny, trust me, he will back down. He will."

"You thought of me straight off, did ya? That would put him off more. No matter how tough he is - I've got youth on my side. Imagine him trying to keep up with me, hey?" he said, leaning back in his chair and glancing over at Max with this little smirk that I think was one part bravado and one part pride.

"Well, like you said, you're younger and a lot less tame than Max. And he seems to know that. So you can help me call his bluff. If you agree, of course. What do you suppose?"

He swallowed hard and looked between me and Max. Back at me. "He'll never accept. Can't see it m'self."

"No, he wouldn't," I assured him.

"He's bluffing." But this time when he looked from Max and back to me, there was a fine sheen of excitement in his face, like he'd allowed himself this brief image of really doing something that wild, that adult.

"Yes, he is most definitely bluffing. Help me out, Johnny. Look, I'll get a room from Uma. Upstairs. You and me, we'll go there. Max won't dare show up. It's just not something he'd do. So I'd be yours for the evening ... if you want me. Or we can just ... you know, get to know each other a bit. No pressure, no expectations. I'm not like that and I know you're not, right? But the others ... they'll think you've scored. I won't say different if you don't want me to, all right?"

"Crikey, Ann, wait up here. If I do this it isn't just to get my leg over. I'm not doing this for that, Ann. I'm not that sort of bloke," he said quickly. I'd caught that look, though ... that one he'd given when he'd first heard me say it'd just be us in that room ... he was only human, no matter how sweet he might have been. He just didn't like the idea that I might have thought so little of him. "I'll do it. But just to help you because you asked me fair and square, no fucking about. Sorry. Shouldn't talk like that in front of a lady like you. But fair dinkum, love, I don't want to put any pressure on you. Or have them talking about us either."

God. He was blushing. He was so sweet. So young. And ... just so him.

"But, yeah, I'll do it for a lark. Anything to get one over on the General, hey? Go ahead. Get a room."

I tracked down Uma. Got two keys. Just as she was handing them to me, she gave me this soft look. "You sure about this? I wouldn't push Max too hard," she said. Told her I knew what I was doing. It wasn't until a lot later that I realized this meant she'd overheard at least some of the interchange between me and Max. It wasn't until even later than that that I wondered just how many other witnesses there might have been. But in that particular moment, I was just so caught up in this battle of wills with Max that I wasn't aware of others. Besides, I was not going to be the one embarrassed. Max was when he had to admit he wasn't all he tried to pretend he was.

Went marching right by Max. Tossed him a key. Grabbed Johnny's hand. Dragged him out of his seat and then he dragged me up the stairs. Making it look good for Max. I turned back just before we were out of sight to level Max with a look. He was inscrutable and frozen in place. Which told me one thing: I'd called his bluff, freaked him out. He might never talk to me again, but so what?

It wasn't until I was up in the room with Johnny, automatically rooting about for something to drink in the mini-bar just to occupy my hands and my mind ... that's when it dawned on me. The 'so what' moment in reverse: it mattered to me what Max thought of me. And I didn't know why, but it did. A lot.

And just as I handed Johnny his drink and was taking his hand that he offered me to come sit next to him on the end of the bed ... just then, we both heard it at the same time.

The key in the lock.

I wonder even now what Max thought would happen. I wonder even now how he felt walking in there, knowing without a doubt how both I and his young rival were going to feel when he did that. I wonder even now if he felt every single thing shift.

He swept the two of us with a glance. I couldn't breathe. He shut the door. I couldn't think. He said he'd have whatever we were drinking. I couldn't move.

Johnny nudged me. I looked in his eyes. There was an exhilaration there. But there was also a reflection of my own wish that someone would stop this and that it wouldn't have to be me.

I made Max a drink. Handed it to him and his hand touched on my jaw. I looked in his eyes. He really had called my bluff.

Unlike Johnny, though, Max read me without any difficulty.

And what he saw, I confess, was a mixture of feelings. I was scared. Honestly, I was. I've never done anything remotely like this. I may have dreamed of it, I may have even fantasized it ... but to be brutally honest, even in my fantasies, I never really completed this. I was never that free, even within a fantasy. But besides fear, there was also a feeling of pride and a feeling of desire. Pride? Sure. I was too proud to back down. Desire? I desired this now that it was placed before me and never, ever, not in a million years would have believed that was possible.

If Max had pushed, I would have crumbled.

So he didn't.

He led.

He just took charge of this situation, this opportunity. And it was his confidence, his sensitivity that opened me to this. It was his confidence, his masculinity that allowed Johnny to explore.

The air inside that room vibrated with heat and testosterone. Max settled into a chair and sipped his drink while he watched me sip mine. I watched him and I also watched Johnny. Where Max was intense and contained, Johnny was edgy and uncomfortable with his own eagerness to know what would happen.

In fact, Johnny's the one who launched it in his attempt to be man enough in front of Max. Or was it me he wanted to prove something to?

"Something going to happen then? Or we gonna sit here staring all night?"

Max regarded him solemnly. He tilted his head, said it low, without any attempt to be aggressive: "We must agree to a certain level of openness and ... unity of purpose. Can you sublimate your own desires for the group's success?"

I couldn't breathe.

"If she wants this, then I'm in and ..." Johnny started but never finished the thought. He glanced at me.

I couldn't think.

"Then we are in agreement? If we work together, we all achieve our desired goals?" Max asked.

Now they both are looking at me. I need to stop this.

My mouth opens to say no. Only my lips move. They don't say no; they form his name. Max.

He raises his hand, motions me to him. I just go there. It's all I can do ... seek shelter with the strongest male in the room. He draws me down to his lap and lets me lay my head on his shoulder. From this vantage point, I look out and give Johnny a small, fleeting smile. He returns it. God, I needed that.

Max strokes my hair and he sips his drink. When he finishes it, I am holding my breath. He puts his mouth near my ear ... private words, just for me.

"I can show you that this can be a beautiful experience," he says softly, acknowledging so much with just those words. Acknowledging that he knows I'm scared to do this but that I am fascinated with how I know I could desire this if only I felt safe enough to let go.

I lean back in his hold and look in his eyes.

"If..." Max says, his fingers stroking my lips, his eyes on mine, seeing into me. "If you trust me."

I am so small in his hold.

I am breathing.

And for the rest of that night, I follow his lead and I obey his directions and I learn many things about me, him and Johnny.

He tells me to undress Johnny. He must know, Max must, that unbridling our lust will take the two of us where we need to begin to be. The first thing I do when I go to Johnny is to lean in to pretend to kiss him. But what I really do is whisper against his mouth that if he does not wish to go through with this for any reason, then I will tell Max that I don't want to do it. I would never want to humiliate you by making you have to back down before another man, I tell him.

Johnny responds by putting both hands behind my head to pull me into him so he can devour my mouth. When he releases me from that kiss, our eyes meet. He is in this now, whether he wanted to be or not in the beginning. His excitement is written all over him.

When we're naked, Johnny and me, we are both so hyper with what we know we are about to experience that we can't keep our hands off each other. It's like Max isn't even there ... but at the same time, I think we're both aware that we're performing for Max.

Because Max remains in that chair the whole time. I glance back at him every so often in the beginning; I think several times I've seen Johnny look over my shoulder to catch Max's eyes. But before long, Johnny's raw strength and driving need to have me combines with my enthusiasm to know him ... it's not outlandish, what we do. We're neither of us that uninhibited just then ... not knowing Max is there, watching us. It's like we can put on a show, we can zone out on the audience to a degree, but we always have an awareness that you shouldn't really have when you're really making love.

Johnny takes me back to those hot nights in the back seat of a car and the first time we get smart and take a hotel room for the night ... and how, inside that hotel room, we still feel as if we're doing it in a car and we're still half aware that we might get caught. It's not that he fumbles, because he doesn't. It's just that he's pretty basic even if he has the basics down good. And he's pretty trusting that I'm not going to deny him whatever he wants to do. He talks to me, low and earnest, before he enters me. But as he starts to enter, he goes silent and he looks at me with such sincerity. I see the spark within him that leads me to go into this with him. To see him.

By the time I am on top, riding him, hearing him, feeling him, coming when he says ... when his voice loses some little boy quality and a man is all that is left ... by then, I am watching his face as he feels me coming around him and seeing what that is like for him. God. Like it is a gift. And then he shoves hard up into me a few times, driving without any care except to come ... coming with this rush of whispered gibberish.

I feel ... responsible for him. I drop down on his chest and my eyes shut and I whisper to him. I blow cooling air along his slick skin and kiss him tenderly along his shoulder. I bury my face in the crease of his neck and stroke his damp hair back from his temple. And slowly, I feel the tension slide from his body and he relaxes beneath me. I don't want to shift because I want to keep him inside me even as his fluid slowly trickles from me. I can feel it pooling lightly within his pubic hair, wetness gathering around that spot where we are joined.

Someone switches the room's lights off. I feel a blanket of smoldering, half-spent desire descend along with the darkness. The air turns hazy and I dream. My dreams are filtered and ethereal and full of mysterious longings.

Into that dream, lips touched lightly between my own shoulders, along my spine. I didn't realize what that meant at first. I was too far inside. But the second light kiss began to bring me around. By the time the lips were at the dip in my back, I realized ... it was Max.

His hands on my hips stilled me; he told me to stay where I was. His voice was mesmerizing. He told me I was beautiful to him, that he wished to join us; that he would care for me.

I stretched, luxuriating in the feel of the young, hard body below me that barely stirred in response, and the feel of the man's body hovering above me.

For long minutes, all I felt was Max's kissing along my skin from my spine to my buttocks to the backs of my knees. And I think I probably knew what would come next and I will be truthful in saying that I desired he take me there ... like it would complete this without making it something vulgar.

So, I did moan when I felt slick fingers and I did gently move to accept his touch. I will always remember that moment just before he entered me. The bed shifted with the weight of him joining us atop the mattress. Johnny felt me tense; he stroked down my arms even as he adjusted to give Max room between my legs. And then Max simply told me what he was going to do, lifted me just a bit with a hand under my belly and began to enter me, to slowly work his way inside me.

It was the hand I think that made me realize the seriousness of what we were doing. It was the way that hand cradled me. It made me see what I wanted in a scenario I would never have thought to be in. I raised my head to lean it back into Max's shoulder as he covered me even as I arched my back to respond to his needs. I looked down into Johnny's eyes and felt his hand cradle my cheek.

And there it was in that one speck of time. One man cradling me below; the other cradling me above. Each man knowing a different side of me. Both men, caring for me. One man witnessing my capitulation; the other man forcing my surrender to his power.

Just as he was all the way inside me and beginning to move lightly, Max asked me ... could I feel Johnny hardening inside me ... and I said 'yes god yes.' My voice shook. Max shushed me and said it was natural ... young man like Johnny ... he'd recover quickly with such stimulation as this experience between us ... but that this time, Johnny'd have the power over himself to pace it in concert with Max ... to follow Max's lead so it would be good for me.

Oh God. He'd known this? I thought. He'd thought that far ahead? What else might he have realized for all of us?

Max talked to us both. He calmed Johnny; he excited me. His voice to Johnny was man-to-man; his voice to me was smoky confidence. When I came ... that first time ... they both stopped and each held me in his own way. I was looking in Johnny's face but then I couldn't see through tears.

"It's too much," I said when I caught my breath. "Too much."

"Yes. It is," Max said hoarsely. I felt his arm tremble as he gripped my waist in tighter to him.

"If she wants to stop ..." Johnny said in a groan.

"She does not."

"I want this," I said, a heartbeat later. "Help me."

"This is what you both feared and wanted to experience," Max said as he began to move again. "Do not back away from it. Accept its totality. Accept what we offer."

I closed my eyes and felt the dream-like quality to this. I choked out this soft, sobbing chant of "oh God" over and over ... I felt hands on me and didn't know whose they were. Lips on my shoulder and neck ... at one point one set of lips at my throat, soft and sucking; another set at my nape, fierce and biting.

It wasn't so much that I moved as I was moved. I was at their mercy and they held me tightly.

Inside my mind, I retreat into memories of the small details. The harsh whisper of Max's breath in my hair. The way his voice struggled even as he muttered encouragement to me. That nuance in Johnny's grunts that told me he was trying to hold back from thrusting too hard but was nearly overwhelmed with the excitement as he neared his own coming. The slickness between our bodies and this fleeting thought inside me of whether or not I smelled bad.

The way I wanted to kiss Johnny but never seemed able to do anything but bite my own lips. The way I moved from pushing my hands on Johnny's chest to gripping tightly and holding on for dear life around Max's biceps. The way holding onto Max got me through. The way his muscles flexed under my hands. Seeing one of his hands bracing his body, fingers splayed out on the blanket just past Johnny's face and how Johnny turned this one time and his cheek rested there along that forearm as some silent communication was exchanged between them.

I drifted in their hold. I would have drifted away if not for the details. I collapsed when I came that time and willed them to come with me. I don't remember much else. Not about just then, I mean. Nothing about things like who came first and how and what was said or not said ... It's just, you have to understand, just that the experience of coming pressed between two men was so much for me that I was long gone mentally by the time they came.

But there are other memories we created later on that night.

There are a few memories I find hard to imagine creating.

Things happened.

It's like in the wake of what we've done together, we are as one. We experiment. Each of us must have had desires for this. We have no barriers between us before long. We are equals of a sort but when we flounder, it's always Max who takes control and helps us reach where we wanted to try to touch.

It isn't always neat and yet my lasting memories are of its delirious sense of the beauty of being lost within the power of sensuality. It's usually raw. It's totally revealing. There's no hiding. Not between us. Not now. Not after what we've done.

There's this one moment that makes us all laugh. We're sprawled on the floor. I'm mostly on Max but I'm wiggling a foot on Johnny, just to stay connected, like we are in this together and I will not let that aspect go.

And Johnny's flat out on his back and I'm looking at how he's got his arms flung out over his head while Max has got his hands softly on me. So Johnny is looking at the ceiling and he adopts this fake Max-voice to intone gravely, "If we stick together, we survive."

And I start giggling when Max's stomach starts bouncing because he's laughing. I pounce on Johnny when he imitates my giggling. He flops me on my back and starts tickling me. I am helpless and in tears, shrieking to Max to save me. And then it's like they're two bear cubs.

Max pulls Johnny off me and they start rolling around on the floor, wrestling ... I scramble up onto the bed to get out of the danger zone. I am mesmerized by the sight of the two nude men before me ... one who faces his past image; the other who is viewing the visage of his future.

For this flickering moment, Johnny's curiosity with the mature lion of a man before him seems to invade him. He reaches out a finger to stroke a scar and asks Max about how he got it. In the arena, is all Max says in response. Johnny gives him this cocky grin and informs him that he himself, being faster and more agile than Max, would have been able to avoid getting injured that way. Max says something about Johnny being too much a boy to have ever survived the experience.

The wrestling becomes less playful and more physical. Now they are really challenging each other, testing each other. Nonetheless, it's plain to see that to them, this is a bit of manly sport.

When I scold them for some damage they cause to the coffee table, Max stops but Johnny doesn't. Max gets a dangerous glint in his eyes when Johnny nearly cold-cocks him. He moves like lightening to take an aggressive crouch. But Johnny appears unimpressed until Max swiftly flips him onto his back. But when Max releases him saying "Enough," Johnny's not stopping. Max begins growling nasty threats and Johnny mocks him as an old man beyond his prime. And Max says, "You are not yet man enough to challenge me."

The posturing, I think, is all in good-natured fun ... because we are in this together, right? But ... something crackles in the air between them with that comment. This belligerent thrust happens to Johnny's chin; Max responds with a serious glower at him. And before I catch on to what's now happening between them, Johnny's risen up before me and he's hardening. I am caught too much by surprise by the look of need in his face. I don't know where it comes from, the impulsive read I have ... that the young man has just challenged the man in his prime ... that this primal struggle between virile men for supremacy has entered into what's happening here between all of us in a way I can acknowledge but in a form I didn't expect. I assumed we all three knew it was Max who was the real Alpha here.

But the other Alpha in the room is no longer wanting to be the Beta. This is how he challenges the Alpha. He wants to prove something very basic: that he can win something from me. Some acknowledgment.

Johnny is standing before me, a cock beginning to jut out proudly as he strokes it and seems to be waiting on me to acknowledge its might. I react instinctively but it is also an instinct I would never have allowed myself to access before this night. I go to all fours to fellate him. I put my hands on his hips when he thrusts lightly into my mouth. I think this will help me to control him in this passion moment. I don't know why I thought I could.

Another set of hands grabs in hard between my thighs, gripping in and shoving my legs apart even as I feel the mattress dip and shift as another person joins me on the bed. I feel a head between my knees and fingers sinking into my hips. Then I'm being pulled down onto the mouth of the other man in the room. Max's tongue licks, his teeth bare, his mouth buries crudely into me; he sucks hard and rhythmically.

And just that quickly, that insanely, I'm caught between them. Between their twin needs. Between their differing ways of dominating me.

It is Max's rhythmic sucking that I let set the pace. It's an unbidden concession to the man inside that room who instills that kind of trust in me.

When Johnny comes, it's in a rush of heat. Max's fingers dig into my buttocks and he seems insatiable for the taste of me. I whimper and flail out for help. It comes from Johnny, who kneels before me, lifts my head and lets me kiss him. He takes over the kiss when I falter ... his tongue leading me ... his fingers wiping tears that are now falling shamelessly down my cheeks ... and then I'm coming and I just let my body fall where it is. I don't think about it; I suppose I just trust that between them, they will hold me up until I'm no longer coming and until I'm able to move again.

They both hold on to me in the wake of this. Max gentles me over onto my back and his arms wrap around my waist as his head nestles into my belly. Johnny keeps his arms around my shoulders even as he lowers himself to the bed so he can hold me and rest his head on my breasts. I have a hand on each of their heads, absent-mindedly stroking their hair. I can feel them both breathing on me.

It is the most surreal moment of the night.

Warm, wet breaths of men on my skin. Strong, awe-inspiring arms of men holding my body so gently after breaking me down so completely. And in my own way, I am holding them even more securely than they hold me.

I woke from a dream within a dream. I shook from its power.

For a moment, I prayed it had really happened.

In the next breath, I prayed for it to not have happened.

Are all women so ambivalent and is this why men can never figure us out? Do they ever have competing truths inside themselves to equal ours?

I was in a bed, lying on my side. I was held firmly against a man's body, my head was bowed and resting on his chest. I am shamed to admit, I did not know whose body it was. I put a hand out behind me to feel for the other man.

"I thought perhaps you might prefer to wake with only one of us still here."

"Max," I whispered. My hand stroked along his warm chest. "You thought right."

We shifted together until he was lying on his side and we faced each other. Only problem was that I couldn't meet his eyes so I concentrated on his neck. My fingers played among the light dusting of hair on his chest and absent-mindedly began to fondle a nipple. His hand finally covered mine.

His lips were warm and soft against my forehead. And then he let me nestle my face into his throat. 

A softness came over the moment. I wished I was dreaming. Maybe then I'd know something to say that would remove the sting from this time with him.

At first, he just held me within the circle of his arms. But slowly, he began touching me ... big hands that patted my back or stroked down over my hip until he grew hard and began to slowly undulate against me. He turned me to my back and I reached my own arms around his neck so I could stay buried in his neck while his hand smoothed between my legs and his breathing grew stronger.

I gave this involuntary reaction when he touched me there, flinching and mewling softly.

His touch turned from exploratory to healing. He said he would draw a bath for me. I watched him walk away from the bed and it was only then I looked around the room at the evidence of an abandoned night. I put my face in a pillow and felt the aching in my body. I tried to ignore my emotions. Inside myself, I made the issue of a bath become the most critical decision I had to make just then ... so I decided that Max was right ... a bath would feel so very good. I slid across the mattress and went to stand but my legs were like Jell-O.

"Let me help you, Ann," he said as he scooped me up in his arms. 

"Thank you, Max," I whispered to him, shaken to be feeling this unsteady.

He placed me in the huge tub, stepped in with me and turned on the whirlpool jets. I moaned in deep appreciation at the feel. He let me sink in and luxuriate for a while. And then his hand lifted from the water and he crooked his fingers at me. I crawled over to where he was and let him hold me.

"So where do we go from here?" I asked him. He handed me a bar of soap and I turned to look at him. "I meant, how do we deal with what happened between us?"

"I know what you meant." He gave me this little 'tsk' and leaned back against the side of the tub. "Why must anything be dealt with? We were intimate. We know each other better in this morning."

"Don't be coy, Max."

"I am not 'being' anything, Ann. I am only capable of being myself." He pulled his hands from the tub and held my face, his fingers dripping warm water down me. Our eyes examined each other. I was no longer sure about anything. He seemed so confident.

"After what we did ... Do you ... I ..." I growled in frustration at myself and he smiled at me until I smiled back. "I just feel like ... like maybe what happened shouldn't have. It's tough to face you this morning and I can't help wondering what it will feel like when I face you later ... out of the shelter of this room. I don't know how I'll face Johnny ... and, I don't know that I'll ever be able to return to the pub."

His thumbs rubbed softly over my cheeks. It was a gesture of such comfort and I felt myself relax and lean in toward him a bit. "Did you find last night to be a regrettable experience?"

I thought about that ... about how he'd promised it could be beautiful ... that if I trusted him, he'd show me how it could be. And I thought about how I'd never even been able to imagine myself in that kind of situation. And that maybe that's why I was struggling to put into words what I was feeling. And that maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

"It was ... enthralling in a way I could never have imagined something like that being," I told him, shocked beyond all measure that I'd said it and that only after I'd heard my own words had I known my true feeling about that night. "And it was beautiful, yes. You were both ... you were both good to me. But it was you, Max, who made it what it was for me. You're the one who made it beautiful for me."

He lowered his eyes and this look came over his face ... a shyness I never had associated with him before. And I realized only in that moment just how vulnerable he'd been with me and Johnny ... how exposed he'd been with us ... how he'd trusted us. I reached for him and drew him into my arms. We clung together like that and the sound of the water's gushing action lulled us both into a state of relaxation.

"You awed me ... honored me when you put your total trust in me. I shuddered at the weight of that responsibility. I vowed to not fail you." He stopped and took this deep breath, then blew it out. "And through it all, I was completely in your power. Did you know that?"

I held my breath and that was a good, potent feeling. "In my power?"

"You were ... are ... a woman of uncommon charm and courage. Your ability to hand yourself over to me for safe-keeping ... I saw a side to you that I would wish to see again, Ann. But ..." He paused to disentangle himself from me so he could look at me when he said it. "But I would prefer that the next time I see this side to you, that we would be alone ... together."

"Next time?" I don't know why but I had rather thought the way forward would be different. "Will there be a next time for us, Max?"

"Yes. I will demand it."

"Oh, you will, will you?" My hand shook as I stroked it down his face.

"I will."

He has his own brand of seduction. It works.

Here's the thing though. Perhaps I am too open now to his gaze, now that I know he can see me so well. And the thing I have to ask myself is very basic: if I'm open to making love with this man after what's happened in this night, don't I have to now always show up and be available to him all the way ... on every level, in every cell of my being? Don't I have to do this even when I feel fear or insecurity? Even when I can recognize the possibility of loss or humiliation?

That is a lot to risk. Maybe it's too much.