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How is it that some guys get lucky with women all the time? For Burt Olsen, luck has nothing to do with it. In The Floating Threesome he figured out a perfect way to persuade lots of women to have sex. The story unfolds in 11 short chapters. In Chapter 2 we see how Burt’s friend Jack gets in trouble with the law, and how Burt manages to end an extended period of celibacy.

………………………………..

The next few weeks were very unpleasant. Tilda wanted me out of the house. Immediately. I had nowhere else to live, so I was officially homeless.

Word of what happened spread to all my employees, who knew and liked Tilda. The consensus was that I was the biggest asshole in the history of assholes. They weren’t wrong.

Everybody felt Tawny was nothing but a whore. Apparently, they all knew she’d been fucking me in exchange for time off. She was so hated by coworkers that she had to find another job. I wondered if she was able to find a boss who’d fuck her in the ass and let her leave work early.

Tilda and I both hired lawyers who came up with a division of property that was as fair as possible. I got to keep my business and my retirement savings account. Tilda got everything else, including the house, personal property, and savings. If she’d felt like punishing me, Tilda could have forced me to sell my business, but she was more interested in getting me out of her life. She was a good wife. Was.

Since I had nowhere to live, I moved into a dusty old camper parked behind the building in the yard where we stored boats. I got it from a customer who didn’t have the money to pay the bill for repairing his boat, so he gave me the camper as security until he saved up his money. He never paid that bill, so I was stuck with a camper I didn’t want or need – until I became homeless. I don’t think it’s legal to live in a camper parked behind a commercial business, but I did it anyway, and nobody complained. I thought it was temporary, but I lived in that hovel a lot longer than I expected.

It turned out to be difficult to keep the business running when I was completely out of cash. The business was profitable, but we had good months and bad, and I had to come up with some pretty creative financing during the months when sales were down. What this meant was that I couldn’t spend money on myself. No restaurant meals. No time off. For a while, I didn’t even own a car. The nearest laundromat was three blocks away, which is kind of inconvenient when you’re carrying a laundry basket full of dirty clothes.

This whole thing was very depressing. I was not where I expected to be at that stage of my life. I had just turned 30, and I hated feeling I had to start over. And this may sound trivial, but I was especially bothered by the fact that I wasn’t getting laid. Overnight, I’d gone from being a guy getting lots of sex from two sexy women. I was getting sex regularly from my devoted wife, and hooking up a couple of times a week with a hot piece of ass.

Now, I couldn’t afford to take women on dates. Even if I could, there was no way I could take them back to my place, because my place was a ratty old camper. As the months rolled by, I experienced the longest period of celibacy of my adult life. I got more sex when I was an 18-year-old high school boy.

I slowly put my life back together. As the months dragged by, I managed to put some money in the bank. My business stabilized, and my employees pretended to forget that I was an asshole who’d betrayed a good woman for the sake of a hot piece of ass. I got a lot of support from my business partner, Jack Brunswick. Jack was a very flawed individual himself, and he tended to be understanding of the shortcomings of other people.

Jack and I had a comfortable way of dividing the job of running our business. I did the hiring, paperwork, and most of the management of our employees. Jack took care of the boats. He was a nautical genius who’d spend so much time sailing he’d learned everything there was to know. He did the repairs, modifications, consultations with customers, and made sure our shop was stocked with the tools and materials needed to take care of our clients’ boats.

The unfortunate thing was that Jack was the kind of guy who struggled to live a stable lifestyle. He was in love with a girl named Darla Johnson, but who called herself Dar. Dar regularly came to give Jack blowjobs during his lunch break. It was cute. At first.

I was certain that Dar loved Jack. They lived together in a comfortable apartment where Jack paid the rent and most other expenses while Dar worked a part-time job as a cocktail waitress and spent all the money she earned on herself. I should explain that Dar was one of those girls like Tawny, who loved to party and didn’t like anything else. This meant Jack spent more time partying than was healthy, and he managed to spend all his money giving Dar the lifestyle she loved.

At some point Dar became very fond of cocaine. I’ve known a lot of coke heads – and I admit I’ve tried Avrupa yakası escort it several times myself – and it is exactly as dangerous as you’ve been told. It seems great at first, but then you get addicted and everything stops being great. The brilliant comic and actor Robin Williams said it all when he joked, “Cocaine makes me feel like a new man, and the first thing that new man wants is more cocaine!”

Dar – and eventually Jack – wanted more and more cocaine as time went by. Every spare dollar went straight up their noses, and I began to hear of things like their landlord threatening to evict them over late rent payments. This was a big change for Jack, who enjoyed nice things and used to have plenty of money to pay for them. He owned three Rolex watches and a hot Porsche sports car. As a party girl, Dar loved rolling down the street in that car and pretending she was the trophy wife of some millionaire.

This is a long, complicated story, so I’ll just get to the part where everything exploded. One evening Jack invited me to a party at his house. He lived a short distance from where we worked, so I walked over there and was horrified by what I saw. His “guests” were a bunch of sleazy addicts who were only there because they wanted some free drugs. The ones who weren’t high were drunk – very, very drunk. Obnoxious music blared from the sound system. I was sure Jack’s neighbors weren’t happy.

I noticed something odd seemed to be happening in Jack’s bedroom, so I walked back there and found some skinny little crackhead going through Jack’s drawers. He’d found the Rolex watches and was stuffing Jack’s keys in his pocket. Those keys included every door at our business; if the wrong person got those keys, we had a problem.

“What the hell are you doing!” I yelled. The guy hadn’t seen me enter the job, and he jumped so much he almost lost his balance.

“I’m just looking!” the guy said.

“You’re looking for trouble, and you just found some!” I said, grabbing the little twerp by the neck. I took away the watches, and the keys, and I found Jack’s wallet inside one pocket. I grabbed the guy by the hair, dragged him to the door, and threw him out into the hallway. “If you’ve smart you’ll get the hell out of here and never come back!” I said, slamming the door.

Nobody even noticed. They were too focused on snorting cocaine and guzzling liquor. Dar was letting guys lick whiskey off her nipples. Jack looked completely stoned. It was awful – all of it.

I went back into Jack’s bedroom and wondered what to do. I knew I was going to get out of there before some neighbor called the cops and everybody got arrested. But I worried that Jack’s valuables might get ripped off first. Therefore, I got the watches, the wallet, the keys, and Jack’s laptop. Jack had worked for years creating designs for boats he wanted to build someday. If somebody stole that laptop, he’d lose all that work.

At that point I skedaddled. My plan was to send Jack a text the next day, when we could talk about what happened and what I did with his stuff. The first thing I wanted to do was have Jack back-up his computer, because the contents of that hard drive was the one thing he owned that could never be replaced.

As I was walking out of the door, I had an idea that turned out to be very smart. The way things are going, Jack’s Porsche will be repossessed any day, I thought to myself. I knew he’d be better off if he could sell it to somebody first. Therefore, I drove his car back to our shop and parked it next to my ratty old camper. I unlocked the back door of our business and stowed the laptop, keys and watches in a locked cabinet in my office.

Jack is out of control, and I’m not doing much better, I thought to myself. I felt the urge to pour myself some bourbon, but I resisted the temptation because I’d been drinking too much for too long. I was developing a pot belly, and my muscle tone was shot. I resolved to drink less, join a gym, and do more to rebuild the life I once had. I wanted to do something for Jack, but I had no idea how to help him.

It turned out that something else happened that forced Jack to get clean and sober.

As I’d feared, some neighbor called the police about Jack’s party, and when they arrived they found lots of cocaine being used. Some of the “guests” at Jack’s party were convicted felons. One of them was carrying a pistol. The police cuffed them all, dragged them off to jail, and threw them in holding cells so they could sober up. Jack was so stoned he couldn’t tell the cops his name, and since I had his wallet he wasn’t carrying any identification. I didn’t realize something was wrong until Jack failed to show up for work the next day.

He called to ask me to bail him and Dar out of jail. I agreed to post bail for Jack, but I told him Dar was such a mess that she was better off detoxing in jail. Dar got pretty upset with me, but I can’t express the enormity of the damn I did not give. I know Jack is a grown Ataköy escort bayan man who makes his own mistakes, but Dar was the kind of woman who thrived on chaos. Any man would have trouble living with her. Jack didn’t argue with my refusal to bail her out. He knew I was right.

Seeing Jack in so much trouble scared me enough to make an extra effort to get my own life together. As Jack’s situation unfolded, I learned that he was deep in debt, and he had to declare bankruptcy. He and Dar were immediately evicted from their apartment. Since Jack was just an addict with no prior convictions, he got a deal that had him plead guilty and get his sentence suspended on the condition he participate in a program to get clean and sober. The idea was that if he followed the rules for a year, his conviction would be expunged. Since Jack did not want to have a felon conviction on his record, he worked hard to stay clean.

Things were different for Dar. She had a couple of prior convictions, including one that involved her being stopped for erratic driving, and the cop finding a bag of meth in her car. She kept calling Jack and angrily demanding he get her out. She wanted Jack to somehow get her out so he could resume buying them cocaine. He loved her – he really did – and I was glad that it wasn’t possible for Jack to do anything to help her. A couple of years in jail was just what she needed.

The story of Jack’s struggle goes on, of course. I’ll get back to it later. But for now, I want to write about something less depressing. I got back on my feet. I went to the gym. Worked long hours getting our business stabilized. I bought a car. It was a 10 year old Toyota Corolla, but it ran just fine, and it looked OK after I cleaned it up and gave it a coat of wax. My soft pot belly got firm and flat. Things were better. Much better.

There was just one big problem, and it wouldn’t be easy to fix. My prolonged period of celibacy was driving me nuts. I found myself leering at female customers. But I knew I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship, and I didn’t have much to offer to women. I was getting too old to pick up girls in bars. I drove a boring car. But the very worst thing was that I lived in a camper, so I couldn’t take women home with me.

Trying to fix the situation was discouraging. I decided that the most sensible thing was for me to use an online dating site for people who wanted sex without strings. I’d heard that the sites were genuine, and that turned out to be true. But the obstacles were severe. There were at least 10 times as many men as women, and some of the women were looking for couples or other women. The heterosexual women had their pick of guys, and there were plenty of younger, richer, more attractive guys.

I worked hard to find a woman – any woman – who’d have sex with me. I met a lot of women for coffee or cocktails, and they didn’t want to see me again. I was honest about my situation, and it was obvious that there were plenty of guys out there who had less baggage than me. I was just about to give up when I met Celeste.

My expectations were low. I’d tried the web dating app long enough, and failed enough, to realize that Celeste probably had better options than me. But she agreed to let me buy her a drink so she could decide if I was fuckable. To my great relief, I passed her inspection.

Celeste was 11 years older than me. She was a reasonably attractive woman, but not someone likely to win any beauty contests. BUt to me, she looked like someone I wanted to get to know better – a lot better.

“So. What’s your story, Burt?” she asked as soon as I sat down.

“I’m a businessman. I’m 31. I’m divorced. The last year has been tough on me, but I’m getting past it. How about you?”

“I’m 42. A paralegal. Never married. I’ve had a couple of relationships, and they’ve all been disasters. That’s why I want to have a no-strings relationship. I’m tired of drama.”

“We have that in common,” I said.

I began to get the feeling Celeste was realizing there were younger, better-looking prospects for her. That’s when things turned around.

“So you’re divorced,” she said. “What’s the most important relationship in your life right now?”

That was a surprise. Since there were no women in my life, I said my closest friend was my business partner, Jack. “He’s going through some very tough times,” I said. “Seeing him struggle has given me motivation to try to be a better man.”

“Oh. Gee. Tell me about that,” Celeste said.

And so I told her. I told her that Jack and I owned Trident Nautical, which was a business she knew about. Apparently a former boyfriend had a boat he bought from us. I told her that I’d known Jack since we were teenagers, and that I admired his genius. I told her about his drug problems, and his legal problems, and all the times I made him attend 12 step meetings because he seemed to be struggling.

“You sound like a good friend,” she said.

“My connection to Jack is deep Escort Şirinevler and wide,” I said. “I’m closer to him than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“Really? Closer than to your ex-wife?”

“Yes. I loved my ex-wife. I hate it that our marriage is over. But it’s different with Jack. If he doesn’t get through this, it will be the worst thing that ever happened to either of us.”

Something about that seemed to persuade Celeste to give me a try. She suggested that we get together for drinks again; I knew that what she meant was that she wanted to have more time to consider her other options, because there was a surplus of men online.

“That would be great,” I said. “I think there’s one thing I should tell you first.”

“What’s that, Burt?”

“Well, it’s like this. I’m a little bit homeless.”

She looked at me for a long time, then burst out laughing. “OK, you’re going to have to explain that. How in hell is it possible to be a ‘little bit’ homeless. That sounds like a yes or no situation to me.”

So I told her I lived in a camper parked behind my business. “I did it when I had to move out of the house I shared with my wife, and I thought it would be temporary. But living rent-free has made it a lot easier for me to recover from the financial setbacks of my divorce. It meets my needs, but it’s not a great place for entertaining beautiful women like you.”

“Oh, brother. Don’t start getting slick with me. I was just getting to like your openness and honesty. And I guess you’re right – you are a ‘little bit’ homeless. Well Burt, that just means that if anything happens between us, it will happen at my apartment. I’ve never been much of a camper, and I’m not interested in becoming one now.”

At first I was afraid Celeste would decide I was more trouble than I was worth, but we met again, and she invited me to her place. It was very clear that Celeste wanted sex, sex, and nothing but sex. She told me bluntly that if I did anything remotely romantic, she would move on to some other guy. I considered myself extremely fortunate to have a chance to end my celibacy, so I made sure no romantic words came out of my mouth.

We got into a nice routine that did a lot to end my prolonged period of sexual frustration. She asked me to come to her apartment on Mondays and Thursdays after work. I later learned that he had a second guy she saw on Tuesdays and Sundays. The fact that I wasn’t the only man in her life wasn’t a problem for me. She never offered an exclusive arrangement, and I never asked for one.

The first time we had sex was great. I’d been so desperate for so long that I ravished her. That wasn’t my plan, but once we got started, I went a little crazy. It wasn’t a problem; she liked it. It started as soon as we were both naked. I grabbed her forcefully, pushed her down on the bed, and began eating her pussy like a starving man.

“Oh baby, don’t stop,” Celeste said.

Before we headed for the bedroom, Celeste gave me two rules. First, condoms were mandatory. I thought that made sense. It was a reasonable precaution for people having sex with strangers they met online. She also insisted that there be no kissing. We weren’t a romantic couple. We were fuckbuddies. Although sex was fine, kissing was too intimate for Celeste, so we never kissed.

As I started eating her pussy, I bit and licked the soft flesh of her inner thighs. I didn’t bite hard enough to hurt – just get her attention. It made Celeste spread her legs a little wider. Soon I was kissing, licking and nibbling on the outside of her pussy lips. Celeste let out a sigh of pleasured contentment. Things were going well so far.

It wasn’t long before I was licking her soft, wet inner flesh from her butthole to her clit. I had no reason to think she wanted me to lick her ass, but I wanted to, and she was obviously glad I did. She started moaning. Loudly. She reached down to take my head between her hands and pull my face closer. It went on, and on, and on. I couldn’t stop. It had been so long since I’d tasted a woman that I was starving for it.

Eventually, of course, Celeste climaxed. It was the first time for us, so I had no idea if it was a strong one for her. Different women have different kinds of orgasms, from gentle to thermonuclear. This one was somewhere in the middle. I was glad it happened, because we hadn’t started to have sex yet, and I figured it probably helped convince Celeste that she made a good decision when she invited me to her apartment. I wanted to be welcome there in the future.

I enjoyed watching the contractions in her pussy as her climax ran its course. I began moving up her body when the throbbing stopped. When we were finally face to face, she gave me a big smile. “Not bad so far, sailor,” she said. “What else ya got?”

Plenty. Normally I like to go slow when I start having sex. Women seem to prefer it when I give them my cock a little bit at a time. I push in a tiny amount, withdraw, then push in a tiny bit more. Teasing. But I was too impatient for that. My cock hadn’t been inside a pussy for a long, long, l-o-n-g time, and I couldn’t wait. Celeste was wet and loose from her first orgasm, so I had no trouble sliding all the way in on the first stroke. “Uhhhhh!” she said when I slammed into her. But she said it in a way that made me think she was pleased.

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