“Good, I was about to send Jourdan to your office to check on you.”

“I got one shoe on before we decided to call.”

I don’t know what it is about them both being on the line, but it makes me feel good.

“Thomas did it again, huh?”

“He fucking did it again!”

“Who’s Thomas?” Jourdan asks.

“Her boss. Loves to hear himself talk.”

“Okay, I hate him already. Got it.”

I laugh. “He’s not so bad, but he just talks forever. That meeting could have been forty-five minutes max.”

They both groan, and I spend the rest of my drive venting to both of them.

It’s perfect.

Jourdan has gone to a concert an hour away with her friend, and the boys have an away game with their rec team.

We only realized that we were heading to the same city the night before we left. That night, Darren and I locked our bedroom door and pulled up our video chat on the laptop. For the first time, the three of us touched ourselves while we fantasized about Jourdan skipping out on the concert and us missing the boys’ game so we could get a hotel room and fuck each other.

She wasn’t physically in the room, but her presence was real enough.

We got naked.

Jourdan positioned her computer between her legs, and so we did the same.

Darren wanted me in front of him, his hard length resting up my spine. He enjoyed spreading my knees for her, watching her touch herself while he positioned my feet on the outside of his. He rubbed his palms along my inner thighs, his fingers grazing the side of my sex. I was squirming in his arms when she finally begged him to touch me.

She matched her hands to his, touching herself the way he was touching me. We imagined this could be how we spent our night in that other city, when no one else was around.

It was a great night. A beautiful fantasy. But she didn’t want to let her friend down, and the boys would be depressed if we missed their game.

We were in the stands. The stadium was packed with pre-teens and overbearing parents, set on their kids going to the NBA as soon as possible, and spectators running side bets on the outcome. The boys love basketball, and we love them, but the pressure of it all set my teeth on edge. I wanted my boys to enjoy playing the game they loved, but I refused to let it take over their lives. I’d rather they played every version of Alien Catastrophe during their free time instead of planning out their NBA draft speeches.

Darren knew how much the games stressed me out, and he was rubbing my back to try and calm me down. We both knew it wouldn’t work, but I always appreciate the effort.

“Your twins play for The Horsemen, right?”