Coming Together
As One
Alessia Brio
editor
Coming Together: As One
Alessia Brio, editor
Copyright © 2010 Alessia Brio
All digital rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
Cover art © 2010 Alessia Brio
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Coming Together Production
Smashwords edition
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/comingtogether
License Notes
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Table of Contents
I've recently taken up a new hobby: photography. I went so far as to go out and buy an alarmingly expensive camera. After all, if I'm going to do it, I might as well do it with the best tools available to capture the images I want to photograph. This, of course, required an in depth reading of the camera manual, because I had no idea what AEB was or how to adjust exposure and ISO. The good thing is that no one who views my pictures will be required to know these things.
One reason I bought such a complicated piece of equipment was because I had a vision of what I hoped to produce on film or the digital screen as it were. I want to focus on nature photography, but with young children, I wanted a camera that I could also use for portraits and action shots.
I knew that a sophisticated camera would have tools to enhance my photos. Photography isn't only about capturing an image. It's about manipulating the camera and the subject, the light and dark, the colors, to create the image you want others to see. The parallels to writing are obvious, aren't they? A writer uses all the sophisticated tools at their disposal not just to tell a story, but to create a world in readers' minds. And just like in photographic images, the more variables that a writer can manipulate, the deeper and more unique the world created.
Variables that the writer manipulates include time, setting, characters, plot, dialogue, action, conflict, and point of view, just to name some of the major components of any book. (At least they should be.) The thing that attracts some writers to ménage is how adding that extra central character in the relationship creates more variables. More dialogue, more conflict, more action, more points of view. It provides a plethora of opportunities to create story and to explore the tension and character development inherent in any romance.
Not all writers are attracted to ménage. Just as not all photographers take nature photos, and not all nature photographers take pictures of flowers. For many romance writers, the more common relationships between one man and one woman or one man and one man, or one woman and one woman, provide more than enough fodder to nurture their creative vision, and the end result is a satisfying and fulfilling story that pleases both author and reader. But for the ménage writer, they want the depth and intricacy that ménage brings to a story.
It's not easy. The added variables make writing ménage more of a challenge, not less. Juggling three points of view, three character arcs, three distinct voices, three internal and external conflicts, it can all get a bit confusing for a frustrated writer. But it's a glorious feeling when it all comes together.
Is ménage a snapshot of real life? For most readers and writers the answer is no. The subject of what attracts readers to ménage has been discussed endlessly among bloggers and writers and editors over the last few years. It's the ultimate fantasy, isn't it? And that's what ménage writers are trying to create. The beautiful photographs you see in galleries and magazines aren't mere snapshots, either. They are carefully crafted to make the viewer experience a reality that transcends the norm. A moment of sheer beauty captured in an image of a dewdrop on a leaf or the sunrise over Chesapeake Bay. Ménage stories attempt the same feat: to show the beauty of a fantasy come to life.
I'd like to thank all the authors who have contributed stories to this charity anthology and the readers. Revenue from the sales of this anthology is being donated to ONE, a grassroots campaign and advocacy organization working to end extreme poverty and preventable disease around the world, particularly in Africa. The statistics are staggering. Nearly 11,500 people die around the world every day from HIV/AIDS, tuberculosis, and malaria. Seventy-five million children do not attend school, 884 million people do not have access to clean water, and 2.5 billion do not have access to adequate sanitation. For more information on global poverty and ONE, visit www.one.org
~ Samantha Kane
www.samanthakane.us
Allison Wonderland
In the beginning,
we look like a bowl of Neapolitan ice cream,
each flavor discernible, independent, unique.
You can tell what's what and what's where and who's who.
Soon hunger and heat intervene,
and the colors start to come together.
The hues fuse gradually, taking their sweet time,
until we're melting like Dali's clocks.
Seconds tick by, mingling with minutes.
Our bodies twist and twine,
creating a confluence of limbs and lust and trust.
The layers coalesce,
the shades fade further into each other,
erasing more and more of the space between us.
Our numbers are dwindling.
Three
Two.
One.
We are no longer a composite
– distinct, disparate elements –
but a singular entity.
Excited.
Delighted.
United.
~ * ~
http://aisforallison.blogspot.com
Annemarie Hartnett
Josie knew that knocking twenty-seven times in a row was just about the most annoying thing a person could do. After all, it was Friday, otherwise known as Blowjob Friday. Tobey always took the afternoon off to spend it sprawled on the bed with Matt between his legs.
She didn't give a fuck. When Tobey finally answered the door, sandy hair askew and wrapping himself in his fuzzy bathrobe, her usual look of apology was absent.
Tobey scowled. "Woman, you look like you need to be wrung out."
Josie took a deep breath. "It's now been a week since the power went out. I just spent an hour stinking up the number one bus. I've yelled at five people on that stupid city hotline since this morning. All but one of my fish died. I'm so gross I'm leaving greasy little stains wherever I go, and I'm on the verge of calling in a death threat to the mayor's office." She gave Tobey her best sad puppy eyes. "Can I stay with you until the power comes back on?"
Tobey mirrored her pout and shook his head. "You do, in fact, stink." He held open the door and stood aside. "Um, moving in for how long?"
"They said it should be back on tomorrow. They've been saying that for the last week." She dropped her gym bag and looked at the Critter Carrier tucked under her right arm. "Is there somewhere I can put Mercutio? I spent all day blowing bubbles into his tank through a silly straw. He doesn't look good, does he?" She held up the little tank and peered at the goldfish ambling along the bottom.
Tobey looked through the other side and pinched his lips together. "It doesn't look promising. Stick him on the kitchen counter. There's some duct tape in the drawer so you can get the air pump stuck on the side."
"I love you." She glanced at the closed bedroom door. "By all means, go back to what you were doing."
"We're done. I gotta head back to work anyhow."
"But it's Blowjob Friday."
"It's also absolutely insane. They're bringing folks back to work on Monday, and I have to make sure the building doesn't explode when everyone powers up their computers at the same time." He slipped his arm around her shoulders. "Coffee is in the green canister, towels are in the hall closet, and Lysol is under the sink."
"I was planning on just using pure bleach, thanks."
"I can do better than that. Goat's milk."
"Drugstore brand?"
"Pfft! Nothing but the real stuff."
Josie sagged against him and breathed in his clean scent. "You rule."
"I know." He caught her chin and playfully bit the tip of her nose.
At that moment the bedroom door whispered along the carpet. Matt took up the doorway with his tall, muscular frame. He was fully dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He looked less than pleased to see her. His dark eyebrows pulled together into a line and his lips tightened.
"Hey, Josie," he said in a flat tone.
She mumbled a greeting, then slipped out of Tobey's grasp and took Mercutio to the kitchen. As she affixed the air tube to the side of the tank, she strained to hear what was being said behind the bedroom door.
Josie had only met Matt a few times, the first time being a very disastrous moment at the casino. High on the eight hundred dollars she'd won at slots, she had pounced upon Tobey as he approached and snogged him for a good thirty seconds, tongues and all, before he pulled away and introduced her to his boyfriend. She'd made an art out of putting her foot in her mouth around Matt and didn't blame him one bit for disliking her.
Crashing with Tobey was a last resort. She was too broke to check into a hotel. A few days of discomfort as the third wheel seemed like a fair trade in exchange for hot showers, real coffee, and a happy little fish in the aftermath of the storm.
The bathroom became paradise as Josie filled the tub and caught up on a week's worth of shaving. She washed her hair three times and soaped herself up until she was convinced that all twelve layers of scum had been sloughed off. The smells of shampoo, men's shave gel and soap mingled all around her and she hated to leave, but her stomach grumbled, and the caffeine jolt she'd gotten from the cola she'd chugged while waiting for the bus was fading. In the hallway, the rich scent of coffee slammed into her and she went weak in the knees. She shuffled to the kitchen, poured a cup, and then tapped on the tank where Mercutio was now merrily swimming through his bubbles.
When she stepped into the living room, she stopped short. Matt was sitting on the sofa with his computer resting on his lap. "If you're working, I can..."
He shifted the computer to show her the army of little red men charging towards an army of little green men. "Classes are cancelled at least until Tuesday, so I'm just killing time. Take a seat."
Josie slid into the recliner adjacent to the sofa. She tucked her feet beneath her and eyed Matt over the rim of her coffee cup.
After a moment he shut the laptop and bobbed his head at her. "You like the documentary station?"
She nodded and as her unease grew, she made a mental list of places she could go until Tobey came back. She was contemplating spending the rest of the day at the doughnut shop around the corner when Matt hit the mute button on the remote and turned to her. "Look, I'm not pissed at you. I swear to God I'm not pissed at you. I'm pissed at him."
"Really."
"Really. When the power first went out I brought an ex over to use the shower and fill a few jugs with water. Tobey flipped out on my head. It's got nothing to do with you, but just so you know, I plan on giving it back to him the same as I got."
Josie nodded. "Sounds fair. I mean, I'd do the same thing. Besides, he's a bit of an asshole like that."
He stood and stretched his arms over his head, giving Josie a glimpse of his flat stomach when the hem of his faded T-shirt pulled up. "Do you like macaroni and cheese? With hot sauce?"
"Put mine on toast, and you've got yourself a deal."
She watched while he padded barefoot to the kitchen. He had a nice ass, hugged by jeans not too tight but not too bulky.
Tobey has better taste than I do.
* * * *
By ten o'clock that evening, Josie was sure she had melted into the sofa. She spent the afternoon with Matt, watching educational television and drinking a cheap sangria mixture. When Tobey entered, his arms weighed down by a feast of Chinese food, she was crashed on the sofa, her legs tangled with Matt's.
"Don't you look cozy?" He plonked down on the other side of the coffee table and proceeded to unload the food. "What's to celebrate?"
"No celebration. We were just discussing your shortcomings as a boyfriend."
"But I'm good in bed."
Josie rolled her eyes. "That did come up, and you'll find no argument."
Matt nodded in agreement and swigged down the last of his sangria.
After stuffing herself with a bit of everything that had been laid out on the table, Josie excused herself to have a cigarette on the balcony. A few minutes later, Tobey slipped through the patio doors and leaned against the railing.
"I should call my neighbour to see if there's any lights out my way," she said. She offered her cigarette to Tobey.
At first he shook his head, but then he checked over his shoulder and chuckled. "When he smells it on me, he can blame you."
Josie snickered as he lowered his head and took a drag from between her fingers. "Now we know who the bitch is in this arrangement. He's adorable. Love that black hair and those green eyes."
"So do I."
She stared at the lights winking on the other side of the harbour and mimicked his relaxed pose. "He says he doesn't mind me here, but if that's just bullshit I want you to tell me. I've had my few hours of luxury, so I'm good for a few more days of primitive living."
"Shut up. He thinks you're a doll."
She turned her head she found an odd, crooked smile on his lips. "What?"
The smile exploded into a laugh. "You didn't notice anything?"
"Should I have?"
"Jo, while you two were sitting there on the sofa with your legs together, Matt had a hard-on."
"Shut up!"
"I didn't notice, either. He told me when we were in the kitchen." Tobey's eyes shone with the amber light from the living room. He snagged what was left of her cigarette and sucked on the mentholated tip. "So, what do you think?"
"I think my Mom is right, and I am a big instigator."
"I mean," he squatted to stub the cigarette out on the concrete floor, "what do you think about coming to bed with me and Matt tonight?"
"Excuse me?" She'd heard a lot of his bullshit over the years, but this took the cake. "Jesus Christ! Tobey, how do you get through the day with that thing between your legs leading you around?"
"It wasn't my idea. It was his. He said to me, 'I want to fuck her.'"
"Piss off, Tobey. This is your little fantasy." She lit another cigarette and edged away from him.
"You think I'd put this out if this was all mine? That'd get me a kick in the nuts pretty quickly." He slipped his hand underneath her shirt and stroked his fingers along her spine. A tickle formed between her shoulder blades and spread upward until the fine hairs at the back of her neck stood on end. "It'll be good. Better than you and me, better than Matt and me."
Josie bit her tongue. Tobey's fingers unhinged the small hooks of her bra while she was still waiting for the punch line. A shadow cast over them, and she jerked back.