My Barista – Part 3


Life had been crazy since the events of the last chapter. Some of that craziness involved the triangle between me, my wife, and the Barista.Last summer, the plan was for my wife and me to travel to Houston to visit my Barista. We had not come to a final decision on whether I would give her another child. We had not decided if sex would only be between the Barista and me or all three of us. We did know that something sexual and significant was going to happen and I was excited about that prospect.Even more thrilling was that I would be meeting my now two-year-old daughter for the first time. I was eager, nervous, and terrified all at once. What if she didn’t take to me? What if she wanted to have nothing to do with me? What if having my wife in the presence of my “other” family hurt her? It would put an end to all that we had worked on together. I was bringing two worlds together that I was not entirely sure should ever come in contact with each other.All my thoughts and worries would prove to be meaningless. When you think you have plans, life decides to throw your plans out the door and shows you it has plans of its own. A week before we were going to make the trip, my mother called me with the news that she had been diagnosed with a very aggressive form of cancer. It was treatable, but it was going to be a fight.I am an only child, and my mother had me when she was young (only twenty). She was single, and my father was not in the picture for my entire childhood. She devoted her whole life to me and ensured I was provided for and loved. My mother never married.When I became an adult and began my own family, she focused on her work and mentoring younger people (always the mother). I have always been protective of my mother. I am all she has. So, when I got that call, everything was immediately dropped, and my focus was on helping her beat this thing.I’m an analytical person, so I immediately went to Google to research everything I could find about this cancer. I researched diets for cancer patients to make sure my mother got the best food. I took her to all her appointments. I even hired a patient advocate to make sure all of my mother’s concerns were heard. We had someone working for us and our best interest that could help us make sure my mom got the best care available.She was diagnosed in June. By August, Ankara bayan escort my mother, who before this appeared to be very healthy, was bedridden and could not eat on her own. I have never felt so helpless to stop something in my life. We did all the right things, went to the best specialists, and had access to the best therapies available, and my mother was still dying. It was a whirlwind few months that took five years out of me and ultimately took my mother’s life.I thought I would break down and mourn at this point, but it never came. Hospital visits. Seeing my mother’s health deteriorate. Seeing her move her mouth to speak but literally not having enough air in her lungs to make a sound, to seeing her take her last breath. In all of this, I did not shed a tear. It was as if something inside me was blocked. Even after her death, there was still so much to do and only me to do it. I did not have the luxury of grief. I had to plan a funeral, inform family, and settle my mother’s affairs.My wife was a great help and instinctively knew what I needed, emotionally and otherwise. The work we were doing the past few years prepared us for this in a way neither could have predicted. Because of her, I did not feel like I was drowning. The funeral seemed to take forever to arrive. I just wanted it over. I wanted time to mourn her loss without dealing with other people’s grief and well wishes. I wanted to just get away. Far away. Like another country far away.When the funeral finally did come, I was on autopilot. My wife and I were greeting the guests, and someone showed up that I did not anticipate, my Barista, with my daughter in tow. I felt like everything froze when I saw them. I did not think. I just ran to her and hugged her tightly. There were no words. I had no idea how much I needed to see her, especially now. My wife flew them down (along with Barista’s mother). Like I said earlier, she knew instinctively what I needed, and I needed my family with me. I needed all of them.My wife set aside any doubts, fears, and insecurities she had to bring them to me. After the hug, I was introduced to my daughter (not as my daughter, though). At that moment, I knew things could not stay the way they were. I needed them both in my life, and they needed me. My mother raised Escort bayan Ankara me with no man there. I told myself I would always be there for my children because my father wasn’t there for me. I needed to be her father. I needed to be in her life.I got through the funeral, but still no tears. I came close when I realized this was the only time ALL my family would ever be in the same place at one time. My wife and our two children (both in college), my Barista and our daughter, and my mother, who died, not even knowing she had another grandchild. That thought put a knot in my stomach. What was I becoming with this life? Who was I?After the service, we had a repast where we all ate together. Everyone wanted to know who this woman was who seemed so close to my wife and me. We introduced her as a “work colleague” (technically true since we work for the same company). I knew eventually I would have to tell my kids who this person really was and that this little girl was their sister. Everything seems so sexy and fun until reality hits. I confessed to my wife, and things ended well, but my acts and confession hurt her. The thought of how this would hurt our children cut me to the core.After everything was said and done, my wife and I went home exhausted. Our kids stayed the night and headed back to their lives the following morning. They had just had the blow of losing their grandmother. This other news could wait for another day, but eventually, it would have to come.The next day was the first day of quiet I had had in months. This was the first day not dealing with cancer, funerals, or guests. Just me, my wife, and silence. It was the first time I had been still in months, and I began to feel the weight of everything. My wife was right there anticipating my needs. Taking care of me, cooking my favorite meal, popping a bottle of my favorite red wine, and just talking to me and being there for me.For some people, stress and grief kill their libido. I am an odd type where my libido increases during those times. Sex and masturbation are how I process and self-soothe. It is the way I connect in a way words just can’t express. That night after dinner, my wife told me to shower and that when I finished, she would be waiting for me. I knew what that meant, and I needed Bayan escort Ankara her now more than ever.When I came out of the bathroom, I found my wife in all her sexiness wearing a red lingerie set… and lying next to her was the Barista in an all-white set. I have never experienced lust, joy, and heartbreak simultaneously. At the sight of them there, the two women of my life, with all the emotional baggage I had been carrying, I broke down in tears (not at all how I imagined this moment going). They both jumped out of bed, ran to me, and hugged me. We made our way to the bed, where they laid me down between them, both literally kissing the tears away from me.The raw emotion in the room, the proximity of these two women, MY two women, and my need for emotional connection and release had my dick hard in this bizarre situation. My wife saw my need, took the Barista’s hand, and closed it around my dick. She spoke to the Barista but looked directly at me as she said, “Take care of our man. He needs us right now.”Barista said nothing but immediately went down on me and started sucking me. Have you ever gotten a blow job while sobbing like a fucking baby? I have. The man in me has some shame about writing this. It was like every emotion was flowing down to my dick. While Barista was sucking me, my wife was in my ear, comforting me, “It’s ok, baby, let it go. We’ve got you. Give it all to us. Let it all out. We want to take it from you.”In all of two minutes, I came so hard that I blacked out for a few moments. When I became aware of my surroundings again, my head was cradled against my wife’s breast, and Barista was pressed against my back with her arms and legs draped over me. We stayed that way for a while, just caressing and me dozing in and out. That type of release left me drained and exhausted. The last thing I remember hearing before drifting off to sleep was Barista. Her voice broke as she told my wife, “Thank you so much for calling me and letting me be here for him too.”I awoke in the night to the sounds of smacking. As I started to open my eyes, I saw that Barista was no longer next to me but on the other side of my wife, and they were… kissing, very awkwardly. They were in a tentative embrace kissing lightly like they were just trying it out, and they were. I noticed that their lingerie had been shed while I was asleep, and they were both naked, so I didn’t know what or how much had transpired while I was sleeping.Barista seemed to be taking the lead, while my wife was more passive. I expected my wife to take the lead since she was older. Still, Barista had more experience being with another woman.

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