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I have a memory from many years ago. My lovely sexy wife Mary was kneeling on the bed, knees wide apart and rocking gently up and down. I had my arms around her from behind, fondling her breasts and stroking her body gently up and down from clitoris to nipples, just the way she liked it. Mary mostly liked sex to be long and slow, with the maximum of sensuous pleasure incorporated in it. She liked to approach orgasm and then slow the action several times before finally launching herself into an enthusiastic climax. At this moment she was approaching orgasm for about the fifth time, and I sensed that she would not be able to hold it any longer. She was moaning and panting with pleasure, and after four years with her I knew the signs. In case there had been any doubt she confirmed it for me with a husky request to let her go for it.
My left hand was on her pubic hair, my middle finger gently touching her clitoris. My right hand was caressing her beautiful rear, but I had a little surprise for her to add a touch of spice to the final moment. My right middle finger was coated in lubricant. As she arched with excitement and threw her head back, crying her pleasure to the ceiling I slipped that finger between her bum cheeks and just into her anus. She almost shrieked as wave after orgasmic wave shuddered through her body.
This was accompanied by more masculine groans from Jack, the man she was straddling. He gripped her hips and thrust his cock even deeper into her vagina than it had already been. In a series of noisy and excited thrusts he pumped his cum upward, spending himself inside her to the great delight of both.
Our sex life had not always been so adventurous. Neither of us had had many sexual partners before meeting, although I had once had a threesome with a Swedish couple on holiday (see my other story Holiday Threesome). At first it didn’t matter that we were so inexperienced. We had met at college and married shortly after leaving it. Some people warned us that it was too young, and that we would regret it. We didn’t. We were quite ferociously in love, and quite ferociously sexy. In many ways that was the problem. If we had been less interested in sex then we would probably have settled for a much more conventional lifestyle. But the fact is that we both had a slightly adventurous streak and thought about sex a great deal as well as doing it. I wouldn’t say that we were dissatisfied with our marriage, or the sex life that we had. It was energetic, affectionate, and frequent. Just occasionally, though, we would wonder a bit about some slightly less conventional pleasures. As so often happens, it was a particular incident that made us talk about it more seriously.
This happened at a party given by some friends of ours. We never felt the need to stick to each other’s sides at parties. It was more interesting if we mixed, met new people and met up later to talk about our experiences. In this case I had not seen Mary for about half an hour, and it was getting near the time when we had agreed to go home. I looked around for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t in the bathroom. We had left our coats in the spare bedroom, so I went to see if maybe she was collecting hers. When I walked in she was sitting on the bed and our host David was sitting next to her with one arm around her and the other hand fondling her crotch through her jeans. She wasn’t struggling, and she looked flushed with enjoyment, so I assumed it wasn’t an indecent assault.
Of course, as soon as I came in they both leapt to their feet. Frankly, my feelings were a bit confused. This wasn’t something I was in any way prepared for, although it was probably significant that I didn’t really feel surprised. I didn’t blame our friend; Mary was frankly a stunner and if he had not felt attracted to her I would have been astonished. We had all had a bit to drink, and drink loosens people’s inhibitions. It was totally understandable that he would be tempted to make a pass. As for Mary, I think I had known at least subconsciously that a woman sexy as her would find it difficult to keep herself to one man. I didn’t feel jealous or angry. What surprised me was that I felt instant sexual arousal. Part of me admired her for being prepared to go for it and satisfy her sexually adventurous streak. Those were feelings to talk about when we got home, and we did. For the moment, they were both terribly apologetic and Mary threw her arms around me and kissed me. I kissed her back very firmly, and she must have been able to feel the erection that was already growing in my trousers.
We called a taxi for the short drive home. Mary wanted to talk to me, but I put my arm around her and held her tight and asked her to wait till we got home. We just cuddled. I wanted her to know that I didn’t feel angry, but this wasn’t a discussion for the backseat of a taxi. However, as soon as we got inside the door of our flat she hung up her coat and turned to me with an expression of contrition on her face.
“I’m so sorry izmir escort bayan about happened,” she said. “I just don’t know what came over me. I know I was a bit tipsy, but that’s no excuse.”
We walked into the living room and sat on the couch. Those feelings that had been chasing each other around inside my head were ready to come out. I held a hand to silence her protests.
“Don’t apologise,” I said. “John is an attractive man and you are a beautiful and wonderfully sexy woman. There is nothing unnatural in what the two of you were doing. I’m not angry about this, and to my great surprise I’m not even jealous.”
She threw her arms around me again and actually began to cry. “Oh, thank you, thank you. You are such a generous and forgiving man.”
I held her and whispered in her ear: “There is nothing to forgive. I told you, I am not angry and I’m not jealous. You are a wonderful sexy woman and I love you more than you can possibly imagine.”
She looked up at me. “Do you mean it? You’re really not jealous?”
I chuckled. “Maybe I’m supposed to be, but I’m not. I think maybe it’s to do with insecurity. If I was a more insecure sort of man, and afraid you were going to leave me or something, I’m sure I would be jealous. As it is, I’m quite sure that a little pleasure with someone else does not mean you’re going to leave me.”
“No, I would never leave you. Your attitude to what happened tonight just confirms what I always knew: that you are a loving, sexy and generous man and I would be a fool not to appreciate you.”
“Well, that’s really great, but I think we should discuss how we feel about what happened, and what it means.”
“Oh dear, that sounds ominous. Personally, I just feel a bit guilty and a bit foolish.”
“Well, you might be a bit surprised, but I’ve been thinking about what I felt when I walked into the room. I think really it boils down to two things: I felt really turned on and I felt very proud.”
She looked at me sceptically. “Forgiveness I could understand. And anger, and jealousy, but pride? Really?”
“Really. You know that I’ve never been attracted to women who seemed dependent and needy. I’ve always admired women who could go out and get what they wanted. I felt proud that you had experienced a desire and then gone for it. Probably, that was something to do with the other feeling. I felt hugely turned on seeing you feel sexy and look sexy. I still do. I thought it was one of the most arousing things I had ever seen.”
There was a silence for a moment. I felt as if I had made a naughty confession. Mary looked down at her feet for a minute or two, and then she looked up at me with an expression that I knew well: lust. We reached for each other feverishly. This was not a time for long slow foreplay, delightful though that always was. This was a time for rapid satisfaction. We tore at each other’s belts and zips. I opened Mary’s jeans and we slid onto the floor. I had my fingers in her belt and pulled her jeans right down and off, her panties coming with them. She parted her legs wide, her intense arousal clearly visible in the wide-open labia and the lubrication dripping from between them. I kicked my shoes off and pulled my trousers off as quickly as possible. The boxers went with them. I think I had the firmest and largest erection I had ever had in my life. Pre-cum dripped from the end of my cock and several drops went on the carpet. We didn’t care. I threw myself on top of her, and my cock found its natural home. Eagerly I slid it into her beautiful vagina and thrust firmly. She raised her legs and wrapped them around me as I pushed as deep into her as I could get. We both cried out with every passionate thrust, both well on the way to orgasm within a minute. I heard the rising crescendo of her gasping cries as she began to come. My cock felt enormous, and seem to fill her completely. With one last thrust I shouted: “I’m cumming!”
I felt the cum rise up through my cock and spurt out to splash inside her.
“I can feel it!” She yelled, and ground herself into me. “Oh, it’s lovely, it’s beautiful!”
We lay together panting for a couple of minutes. Then we disentangled ourselves from each other and sat up, giggling foolishly. Mary picked up her panties and held them to her crotch, though the lacy items that she usually wore were not very absorbent. Without a word we went into the bedroom and took off the rest of our clothes. With dressing gowns on we came back to the living room.
“I think I need a drink,” said Mary, “but probably nothing stronger than tea.”
We had the tea, but by now it was even more obvious that we had to have a conversation. Mary began it.
“Have you ever had any sexy fantasies? I mean, things we haven’t actually done in real life?”
I thought she was maybe wondering whether I was dissatisfied with our sex life, or even trying to tell me that she was dissatisfied herself. In any case, I thought she already knew the answer: one of her turn-ons was escort izmir sexy storytelling. While we were having sex I would make up stories about situations that we had not got into in real life. These might be threesomes, both ways round, or mate-swapping scenarios. They always seem to increase her arousal and result in spectacular climaxes. I reminded her of how much she enjoyed these stories, and she nodded.
“I suppose what I mean is whether you’ve ever actually wanted to do any of those things for real? You told me you once had a threesome with a couple you met on holiday, but that was years ago. Be honest with me, do you ever hanker after some of those things now?”
“I’m not sure that’s the right word,” I said cautiously. “I do think about them sometimes.”
“If you were not with me, are they things that you might actually like to do for real? After all, you did before.”
“I suppose so,” I said. “But I am with you, and I wouldn’t want to do anything to threaten our marriage. Fantasy is one thing, but there are no consequences in fantasy because you are writing your own script. And nobody is unpleasant. Nothing ever fails to happen as it should, and nobody smells.”
We both laughed at that.
“You said you were turned on by the sight of me tonight. Can you imagine me taking it further? Just close your eyes for a minute. Can you imagine me naked and having sex with someone else? Can you imagine me obviously enjoying it, giving myself up to extreme pleasure? Keep your eyes closed. Can you imagine me cumming and him cummimg inside me? ”
“Yes,” I said huskily, after closing my eyes and conjuring up the image. “I can imagine all of that. It’s only the kind of thing we sometimes fantasise about together.”
“Yes, but this is different. Imagine that it’s real. Imagine we have decided to do some of these things together. Try to imagine all of it, the sounds, smells, everything.”
She paused for a moment. I felt wetness on my leg and realised that pre-cum was dribbling onto my thigh under the dressing gown.
“Now,” she said. “Tell me honestly how you really feel about that. Be totally honest.”
I wasn’t used to this kind of introspection, but I tried to gather together all the sensations I was feeling.
“Excited. Exhilarated, even. Like we’re undertaking an adventure together. Sexy, of course. It’s a wonderfully sexy experience. Admiring. It’s beautiful to watch you in action, going for what you want. I feel privileged, proud to be with you, proud that you’re with me. Love. I feel love.”
“Better open your eyes before you get too carried away,” she said, and I did of course. She looked flushed and excited.
“Are you thinking you might like to do something like that for real?” I asked. “Your turn to be honest now.”
“I think I would, but on one condition.”
“It would have to be something you wanted. I wouldn’t want to feel you were being pressured into anything you didn’t really want to do. That would kill it completely. ”
“That probably goes for both of us. It’s not just about deciding to do something, either, it’s also about who you do it with. We’d both have to be happy about doing it, and with whoever else was involved.”
There’s an old saying that once you’ve started thinking about how to do something you’ve already decided that you’re going to do it. Mary and I talked about how we would be comfortable going about arranging to meet someone else who might be interested, and what it would involve. As I said, this was a long time ago. There was no Internet in those days; how much easier its arrival made things! Meeting people for sexual encounters back then was mainly done through contact magazines. The only other thing you could do was hope something might turn up, and you could be a long time waiting. So, by the time we had finished talking, we had decided not to wait. We were definitely going to give it a try, and then see how we felt afterwards.
Not surprisingly, we got so turned on talking about the whole thing that we had to have sex again. This time it was longer, slower and built up to fantastic orgasms. If just the idea of sexual adventures produced this effect, how good was the real thing going to be?
We posted an advert in a sex contact magazine that was popular at the time. I can’t remember the exact wording. Something along the lines of: “Couple, mid-20s, genuine first-timers, WLTM male, similar, not bi, to explore mutual pleasure.” I think that was about it. Once contact details were exchanged we could phone and make clear that we wanted to meet socially first before progressing to anything more adventurous. We both felt that was essential, just to see if we took to the guy or not. We got several replies, and arranged to meet three of them. First meetings were always in a pub, so we could walk away if anything untoward happened. They were at lunchtime, too, so we could do the walking away in daylight if necessary! If all of this seems unnecessarily izmir escort cautious, bear in mind that we were new at this. But even today we would be careful: there are some funny people out there.
The first guy we met, Richard, was one of them. It was summer, and Mary was wearing a simple cotton print dress. Fashionable skirts were short at the time, and we had agreed that she would dress in a way that was appealing without being over the top tarty. Her neckline was low enough to show the beginnings of some cleavage, but nothing more. Richard couldn’t keep his eyes off it. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, being the first to agree that Mary’s cleavage was well worth the attention but it would have been nice if he had looked her in the eye now and again. He seemed jumpy, and just too eager to get on with the sex. When Mary left at a prearranged signal to go to the ladies’ loo I was able to ask him a few questions alone. In particular, I asked him why he wanted a threesome with a couple of strangers. He chuckled.
“Let’s be honest, mate,” he said. “This is about giving the slut a good bang, isn’t it? I mean, she’s got to be a real slutty type to go in for this kind of thing. Once we’ve got her in the bedroom we do what we like, eh?”
As you can imagine, this did not go down too well. When Mary returned we made our excuses and left quickly. When I phoned him later to say we would not be going any further with it he got quite angry and accused us of chickening out and having no guts to do anything interesting in life. Funnily enough, he seemed to assume that we’re gone off the idea in general, not that there was anything wrong with him. This pretty much confirmed our original impression.
Next came Brian, who told us he was usually called “Bri”. He seemed a bit distant with Mary, which rang a faint alarm bell with me, but he chatted amiably enough. He hardly spoke to Mary, though. We worked the same trick as before, with Mary leaving us for a few minutes. Brian immediately moved a little closer and put his hand on my thigh.
“That’s a little more cosy,” he said. I moved away again.
“Steady on. We said in the advert that I’m not bi.”
“Sure, but you’d have to say that, really. A lot of blokes don’t like to come out with it. And I’ll tell you something else: a lot of women like to watch. You’d be surprised what a kick they get out of it, watching two blokes at it in front of them.”
So Brian’s name was off our dance card as well. We were beginning to think that the whole idea was a nonstarter. Still, there was one left, and they do say third time lucky.
We met Jack on a Saturday lunchtime. The weather was really good, and we sat at a table outside the pub. The first thing that struck us was that he was polite and courteous, shaking hands with us both and smiling. He also looked us both in the eye, although he stole a glance at Mary’s cleavage occasionally. Nothing wrong with that, so long as he remembered that her face was some way above it. This time we talked a little more about the project itself, and he seemed to be a genuine first-timer. He also appeared not to be interested in me, at least, not in the way that Brian had been. Once again, Mary made her way to the loo to give us a couple of minutes. I asked Jack the same question about why he wanted to meet a strange couple for sex. He thought for a minute.
“I’ve been in a relationship that ended badly,” he said, “and now it’s over I don’t want to get into anything serious for a while. I thought it would be nice to experiment with some of those things you fantasise about but never do.”
“Why a threesome? And why a couple instead of two women?”
“The truth is, I’ve got this long-standing fantasy about it. What really turns me on is seeing a woman lost in pleasure. Not just the orgasm bit, although that’s important, of course. It’s the rest of it: working slowly up to the peak, enjoying every pleasurable sensation on the way. I’d really love to help a woman reach the maximum pleasure that she can. Anyway, I think two men could really satisfy a woman much more easily than a man could satisfy two women.”
As far as I was concerned, this was the right answer. I had one other question.
“How would you feel if one of us decided we couldn’t go through with it at the last minute?”
“Well, we’re all beginners. It’s perfectly possible that any of us might back out, including me. I’ve never done this before and I don’t know how comfortable I will be with it in practice. I know I’d like to try. And you seem like reasonable people. I think if it didn’t go ahead for any reason we could all just laugh about it and have another drink.”
When Mary came back I didn’t rush to finish the meeting. I wanted to see how the two of them got on. I wasn’t surprised when they got on pretty well. Gradually, the conversation turned towards the adventure itself, and it was clear that all three of us were starting to feel comfortable about it. When he left he said that he was free the next day, Sunday, but it was entirely up to us. He would wait for our call. It didn’t take Mary and me long to decide that he was the man we were going to try our first threesome with. I phoned Jack later and gave him the good news.
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