Geoff and Marie’s Good Life: Part 10Technology and Medicine.Advancements can be good and bad.

Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

I

was standing in front of another of Lucy’s works, 'The Girls', trying

to decide which element was Marie when I felt an arm slide around my

waist. I looked to find my favorite artist alongside me. I bent down,

intending to kiss her forehead but she had other ideas. Her arm snaked

around my neck and pulled me into a full on passionate kiss. Marie

looked on from across the gallery, amused.

"There,"

Lucy said, sounding slightly frustrated. "I suppose that will have to

keep me going until Wednesday." She strode off to talk to my wife.

Jen,

who had been admiring the work next to me gave me an old fashioned

look. "I'm definitely not going to ask, but if you ever feel the need to

explain?"

"I'm

not sure that I can," I admitted. "If you really want to know, then ask

the artist," I pointed to Lucy, still chatting to my wife. "to explain

the meaning behind that work." I pointed to the one I'd found so

compelling. "Be sure to tell her who you and Peter are first though."

I

moved on. Now that I'd realized the symbolism behind the older

paintings, I found the dystopian themes of an abusive marriage

disturbing. Great for a goth student bedsit. Not for our living room. I

loved the other stuff though, and tried to find one that was still for

sale.

I

found my wife examining some of the other artists' works on display.

Even to my untrained eyes, none were in the same league as Lucy's. I put

my arm around Marie's waist and kissed her cheek. "Hi. I'm an artist's

muse. Fancy a coffee? If I ever get any etchings you'll be the first to

get an invitation to come up and see them."

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she protested. "You're wearing a wedding ring."

"It's

fine. My wife is a beautiful, successful, confident woman. She knows

that I'd never abandon her for an art gallery groupie.

She

checked her watch. Yes, we're both that old. "Well this groupie wants

her caffeine fix, and you're paying. Let's round the others up and we'll

go. I'll see if Lucy wants to join us too."

She

did, and fifteen minutes later found the five of us round a table in

our favorite little café. Lucy was fascinated by pictures of First

Nation art that Peter had taken in Toronto. I could see her absorbing

the way the indigenous artists portrayed movement and space. I suspected

that a disentangled Lucy might be open to expanding her geographical

horizons shortly.

Then

Jen asked about 'that' picture, Friday, four thirty. Lucy looked to me

and then Marie. "They know," she said quietly. "It was the day and time

of my release." Marie and I both saw the double entendre, even if Lucy

didn't intend it.

Lucy

looked at my wife, who just smiled and nodded. She took a deep breath.

"My husband has changed. He drinks, gambles and lies to me. He treated

me like his whore for a while but at least I got laid. Now he can't even

have sex with me. He blamed me for being too old and wrinkly, you know,

down there, to be sexually attractive." Jen gasped in surprise. Today

Lucy was wearing heels, a mid-thigh skirt and a blouse that only just

hinted at uncontained tits beneath it. In short, she was a knockout.

Our

son looked at her in disbelief. "Your husband says that You are the

reason he can't get it up?" Lucy nodded. "Then the man's an idiot,"

Peter concluded.

"But what does that have to do with the painting?" Jen asked, still confused.

Glancing

at me, Lucy explained. "I told Geoff, in the pub, what Eddie had said

when he rejected me: 'Who'd want to stick their cock in a wrinkly old

snatch like yours?' And Geoff told me to show him and he would tell me,

honestly, if it was true. So I did; I showed him. He told me that my

snatch was perfect and then he touched it. And he cuddled me, and I

came. All my best friends were there and they saw me have the best

orgasm I can remember, just sitting on Geoff's lap as he touched me.

That happened one Friday at four thirty. That's what I painted."

Jen

stared open mouthed for a full minute as she unpacked Lucy's story.

"Jesus!" She eventually exclaimed, "I'm going to the wrong pubs."

"Lucy omitted to tell you we were with a small group of friends in a private room," Marie explained.

"Then I need new friends," Jen decided out loud. Peter just laughed.

He

looked at me. "In a way, I can understand. She was hurting. You knew it

wasn't her fault. You did what you needed to do to make it better.

Weren't you worried that mum would;” He stopped in mid-sentence. "But

she was there; wasn't she? She could have stopped you. But she didn't

because;” He thought it through. "Because she doesn't care. No! That's

the wrong word. She does care about you and her friends but she isn't

threatened by Angie or Lucy so she just didn't mind."

Jen

broke in. "That explains the kiss in the gallery. You were aiming for a

platonic kiss and Lucy turned it into a full-on lip-smacker. But I saw

Marie had seen you and wasn't a bit bothered. I did wonder."

My

wife added her contribution. "I didn't want to have to tell him, but I

suppose he ought to know: it's his super-power. He just likes women; not

lusts after, he just genuinely likes them, and most women respond. He's

so used to it that he's never really noticed. For example; when we went

to any of his company's staff parties, leaving do's or awards nights,

all his female colleagues would hug him. No-one else really, just him.

Not 'making a point in front of his wife' hugs, just real affection. So,

when Lucy was sad, he had to help. It took nothing from me and he made

my friend happy. It was actually quite moving."

I

find, at times like this, silence is an effective strategy. Apparently,

Lucy doesn't. "My husband had rejected me," she said, wistfully. "My

friends were there for me, but Geoff just held me. He treated me like a

person. Not damaged, but lied to. He showed me that I was still

desirable, but not in a predatory way. I fell in love with him then."

I

admit to being a little taken aback, even though Marie had told me how

much Lucy, and the others, had appreciated what I'd done. But looking at

Lucy, I couldn't reject her the way that Eddie had. I reached across

the table for her hand. "I love you too, Lucy," I told her, truthfully.

She squeezed my hand and smiled in reply

"Bloody Hell, mum." Peter laughed. "Just how many of your friends has he worked his super-power on?"

Marie

looked thoughtful. "Well, Angie and Lucy obviously, there's Jo and

Samantha, not Kate so much, or Megan; probably Sue and Margie and of

course Jane." She looked at me for confirmation. That sounded about

right. "That would be seven then," she concluded.

Jen

and Peter shared a stunned look. Our son recovered first. "I have so

many questions that I honestly don't know where to start.

Jen butted in. "I've no idea who these women are, but why not Kate and Megan?"

Marie

looked at me for support. I just held my hands up. After all, I'm only

the empath with a cock. My wife replied thus, "Well, Kate admitted that

while she really enjoyed the spooning afterwards, mainly it was the sex

that made her day rather than romance; and Megan's already happily

married."

Peter was struggling to catch up. "You mean you've actually had sex with all seven of these women?"

"Not exactly," I protested. "I've only touched Lucy that once and I've done nothing with Jane."

"You

kissed her in the sex shop," Marie pointed out, unhelpfully to my way

of thinking. "And again in the car when you dropped her off at home. I

think you suggested that it was to give her some motivation when she

tried out the polyurethane cock you bought for her." I cringed at the

look Peter gave me.

"Oh,

yes." added Lucy as I winced in anticipation at whatever she was going

to contribute next. "I've already agreed to do a cast of his thingy so

that Jane can have a full size replica. We thought a signed limited

edition run would be fun. I'll definitely want one too. I can make the

initial mold when it's my turn on Wednesday." She squeezed my hand. "I

could feel it in your pants when I sat on your lap. I can't wait to

actually see it," she added, excitedly.

I

looked up and noticed the café was starting to fill up. So far no-one

appeared to have noticed the bizarre conversation at our table but that

was unlikely to continue, so I suggested that we leave before we were

evicted. Of course, Pete and Jen needed to see the painting again, now

that they understood its genesis, so we trooped back to the gallery, the

younger couple giving me odd sideways glances when they thought I

wasn't looking. I sighed. There would be more questions tonight.

The

questions, of course, started much earlier than that. As we walked back

home Peter strolled alongside me while Marie dropped back to keep Jen

company.

"Is this a kind of mid-life crisis?" he asked.

"I hope so," I replied. "That would mean that I'd survive to about a hundred and thirty or so."

"But dad: eight women."

"Peter.

This wasn't my idea. I'd never cheat on your mum so, when she suggested

that we do this, I refused. I can't deny that they are lovely women,

each different in their own way, but I refused because I was convinced

this insane idea could wreck our marriage."

Our son didn't look convinced.

I

continued. "Look. There are things that I can't tell you; personal

things that the girls shared with each other and then with me. It broke

your mum's heart to compare their lives with hers. But the one thing

that was missing for all of them was sex. They don't expect it every

night; just often enough to reassure them that they're still sexual

beings. But they are independent too; Megan being a special case. They

didn't want to accommodate to new partners sharing their lives and their

beds, so your mum came up with this idea."

"And you get to have sex with them all," Peter observed. "Isn't mum going to get jealous eventually?"

"Do

you think that never occurred to me?" I replied. "We think we've found a

solution. Ask your mum if you really need to know. But." I stopped

walking and turned to him. "I truly don't regret what we have done. If,

at some time in the future I realize this was what ended our marriage,

that will be the time for regret. But you were there; you heard Lucy's

story; you saw the painting that our shared experience inspired in her.

Do you want me to wish that had never happened? That she stayed with

that drunken, abusive idiot? Because now I guarantee she will have moved

out before this year is over. Because another man, one that actually

cared about her, told her the truth. She's lovely and she deserves to be

happy and I'm glad that your mum was selfless enough to make that

happen." I took a deep breath. I wasn't angry at Peter, but my

passionate outburst surprised even me.

By

now Marie and Jen had caught up with us. "Thank you darling." Marie

took my hand and kissed it. "After all of your fretting, I'm glad that

you finally understand how much you've helped my friends already." She

addressed Peter and Jen. "We weren't sure whether to share the whole

story with you, but Linda knows, and you accepted Angie so readily that

it seemed only fair that you should know too."

We

started walking again. Jen spoke next. "I'm sorry if this sounds

judgmental, Marie, but I can't imagine knowing that Peter was sleeping

with one of my friends. I think it would destroy me."

"Oh,

I understand, dear," my wife replied gently. "I would have felt the

same at your age. Geoffrey still does." She squeezed my hand

affectionately. "But you have to realize; these aren't just casual

acquaintances. These women, 'the girls', are my closest friends; almost

family. Seeing Geoff with them doesn't threaten me. It's beautiful.

Watching them respond to my man, knowing the pleasure they are feeling

but never, for a second, believing that they would try to steal my

husband or that he would abandon me for one of them."

"But you said one of the other women was happily married?" Jen reminded us. I decided to let my wife take that one.

"She

is," Marie replied, her eyes filling up. "To a really wonderful man

too." She glanced at Jen. "He knows and approves of his wife's visits

but, again, he knows she won't leave him for Geoff. But that's all I'm

prepared to say; and that's probably too much."

We

carried on walking, closer together, as my wife continued. "Perhaps I

can explain it like this." She sighed. "Imagine you are struggling to

cope financially; you see family and friends in the same straits. But

you can't afford to share what little you have. That's how fidelity felt

when we were younger. Other women threatened my security." She lifted

my hand in hers and pressed it to her tit. "But now, I feel secure. It's

as though your dad represents stability rather than a potential loss.

The women he's with aren't taking anything from me; it's more like they

are just guests at our table. They arrive, we chat, they dine and, at

the end of the evening, they leave, content. We all cherish the time

together and I've lost nothing." She looked intently at Jen. "Does that

make sense?"

"When you say that you all cherish your time together;” Jen ventured. Peter seemed reluctant to hear his mum's reply.

"Yes,

that was our solution. Geoff, quite understandably, had no interest in

sharing me with his male friends, and nor will I ever ask, but he was

probably correct about one thing: I don't think that I would have been

able to cope with him sleeping with my friends while I sat alone. So we

share. Sometimes in the same bed, sometimes in separate rooms." She gave

one of her brilliant smiles. "I'd forgotten just how good it felt to be

with another woman."

Peter groaned. "So it's not just Angela then, mum?"

"No,"

she replied brightly. "In fact, Angie's a special case. We've decided

that, as our betrothed, either of us can have sex with her whenever we

want. With the others it always has to be as part of our regular

evenings when we share." She giggled. "We call them our language

classes."

The

rest of the walk home was subdued. Peter and Jen walked together

talking quietly while Marie and I cheerfully discussed taking them out

for a meal that evening.

We

picked up some farmhouse bread and a selection of cheeses from the deli

on the way home for a quick and simple lunch. As we settled around the

kitchen table Peter asked if he could add one observation to the chat

we'd had walking home. We agreed, of course.

"Jen

and I discussed what you'd told us, and we're honored that you trusted

us to be open. You're my parents and I love you and Jen loves you both

too. What you are doing sounds insane but, dad made it obvious you

haven't done this lightly, on a whim. And, more than anything, Lucy's

story really touched the pair of us. So, while I have no plans to follow

in your footsteps, dad, Jen and I both pray that we are as secure in

our love for each other at your age as you two obviously are."

Marie

reached across and touched both of their hands. "Thank you, both of

you, for not judging us. We love you too," she told them, sincerely. I

stood and walked round the table pulling Pete up for a man hug, finding

that Jen was stood waiting for her turn when we'd finished.

We

spent most of the afternoon chatting about Canada and how much they had

enjoyed their time there. By the time I got back from collecting Colin

from school, Angie had returned and was sitting on the sofa talking to

Jen.

"Grandad. Mum knows about Aunty Angela doesn't she?" He asked as we walked through the front door.

"Yes. She was surprised at first, but she seems okay with it now," I told him. His face lit up with mischief.

"Hi

Uncle Pete, Aunty Jen, grandma." He called, walking in from the hall.

He gave a wicked grin. "Hi Grangie," he yelled, throwing himself onto

her lap. She hugged him, stunned at first by her new title, then burst

into tears.

"Bloody Hell," I heard Peter mutter. "Dad's super-power seems to have skipped a generation. But Colin's definitely got it."

"It

hasn't skipped anything," Jen whispered, just loud enough for me to

hear. "You have it too. Your only problem is that I'm not the woman your

mum is." I resolved to speak to Marie about that. Peter does take after

me in build, and male pattern hair loss and yes, we share nerdy

interests. But Jen is a wonderful woman. She is intelligent, elegant,

attractive rather than classically beautiful and with a warm personality

that fills the room. I love her like one of my own and I won't have her

belittle herself like that.

I

stood and watched as Colin reassured himself that 'Grangie' was crying

happy tears, thinking to myself that the little charmer was probably

more likely to get an Aston Martin than I was. Good for him. He'd

probably deserve it too.

I

packed him off to do his homework: Photosynthesis tonight. He showed me

his worksheet. His task was to use the words in the box to fill the

gaps in the description of the process. He went through it as we talked,

noticing that Carbon Monoxide was in there as a trap for the unwary. He

was back in ten minutes and straight into deep discussion with his

uncle.

I

gestured to Marie to follow me into the kitchen and told her what Jen

had said. "Silly girl," my wife said. "She's perfect for Peter. Bullying

my husband into screwing my mates hardly qualifies me as a role model

for women in general." Her voice softened. "She's right though about one

thing; Peter is a lot like you were at his age. The lucky girl." Marie

kissed me gently on the lips and went back to our guests.

I

couldn't be bothered to start cooking that afternoon so I sent a text

to Linda to meet us at the pub at half past five and I'd treat us all to

a bar meal, but she replied to say that she would come straight to ours

so we would only need two cars. That's a logistics planner at work.

We

had just finished off our meals when two young people greeted us. It

was Adrian and Emily. She noticed me glancing at her neck and shook her

head, smiling. Tonight she was here as his girlfriend, not his

submissive sex slave.

Adrian

explained that they had waited until we'd finished eating but would

understand if we felt that they were still intruding on a family moment.

When we explained to Peter and Jen that our two young friends were part

of our wedding planning team; they were keen for them to join us.

Emily

sat with Marie and Peter to talk about fabricating some lightweight

body armor for my wife's costume. Colin joined them; partly as a fan of

the Mandalorian, partly because I think he had an instant crush on

Emily.

Meanwhile,

Angie and Jen were in deep discussion with Adrian about their own

costumes. In both groups phones were brandished, numbers exchanged and

images shared. I saw Adrian examine one picture quite closely, look over

at me thoughtfully and smile. Linda, who was sitting next to me, was

intrigued. "What was that?"

"Well,

love. As far as I can tell, my outfit selection has been approved. Have

you and Mike discussed costumes? I did tell you it was a Star Wars

themed celebration."

She shrugged dismissively. "We'll pop into that fancy-dress shop in town. They'll have something that will do.

"Not

a chance," I told her. I leant across the table to check something with

Marie and then turned back to my daughter. I showed her a picture of Bo

Katan, my wife's character, on my phone. "This will be your mum's

outfit. She'd like you to wear something similar, as her supporter."

"Where the hell will I find something like that?" She exclaimed.

I

pointed across the table. "Adrian's actually in his second year of a

costume design course. Angie has agreed to underwrite all the materials

costs for our ceremony so he's been able to persuade several of his

course mates to take part because we have a range of amazing outfits for

them to design and create but at no cost to them." I patted Linda's

hand. "Tell Mike to pick anything he thinks looks cool, subject to some

constraints; No bad guys and full face coverings and masks are probably

impractical. Other than that, we'll get him measured for whatever takes

his fancy."

"X-Wing pilot."

"What?" I didn't see that coming.

"Obviously,

I'll ask him but I'm absolutely sure that's what he'll choose." Linda

seemed very certain. "Does it meet your criteria?"

I

considered. Simple, colorful flight-suit and a helmet. "If that's what

he wants, I'm sure it will be fine. Can Colin and Mia choose their own

outfits or do you want to be involved?"

"Mia's invited?" She seemed surprised.

"Colin

asked if he could bring a guest and I think that Emily," I nodded

across the table to where he was gazing at her, rapt, as she compared

notes with Marie. "Well, she's already spoken for and possibly a little

old for him."

She

chuckled quietly. "Dad, will you give him 'the talk' sometime soon?

Mike and I have only been an item for a couple of years. Colin accepts

him as my boyfriend; even as a pal, but not a surrogate dad. It's not

his place and I think they'd both be uncomfortable."

"Of course, sweetheart. I'll sit down with him and we'll find a pace that suits us both. Now, their costumes?"

"No.

He's thirteen and I trust his judgement. I know he has to get your

approval anyway. Let them pick their own. Just, for Christ's sake, don't

let the thirteen year old girl go with the bra-less Princess Leia

dress."

"Ouch. That's definitely not going to happen," I agreed.

We

tuned back into the rest of the conversations around the table and I

decided to get another round in. It looked like this session could go on

a good while longer.

In

the end, it was Linda and Colin's departure at about eight thirty that

broke things up. Colin was glowing as Emily gave him an innocent peck on

the cheek in recognition of his sensible suggestions. I'd chat to him

the next day about what costumes he and Mia wanted.

Once

at home, we put the TV news on in the background. I didn't pay much

attention though. I wish we could find a political system that worked.

It just seems that, no matter how the government comes about, it always

seems to have a bunch of useless wankers at the top. It was much more

life affirming to sit with my two women as my son and his lovely partner

chatted about their travels. But, by ten thirty we were all getting

weary so we decided to call it a night. By now Peter and Jen thought

nothing of Angie joining Marie and me in our bed.

Angie

and I decided that it was our turn to focus on my wife that evening and

we worked, more quietly than usual, to deliver two orgasms; one

courtesy of Angie's tongue dipping in and out of her friend's cunt while

I kissed, massaged and otherwise worshipped Marie's adorable boobs; the

other as I slid in and out of her from behind while they kissed and

stroked each other face to face. As she came down from her second climax

she relaxed into the pair of us as we just held her close. "Love you,

Marie," I whispered as she dozed off.

"Me

too babe," added Angie. I hadn't taken an erection enhancer that night,

so I was surprised the find myself getting hard again not ten minutes

later, while Angie and I cuddled up together. "Ooh! Lucky Angela," she

grinned, stroking me gently. "Can I ride you Geoff? To just quietly and

gently bring us both off?"

I kissed her. "Whatever you need. I get to come again and watching you is pleasure enough anyway. Love you Angie."

She

mounted me, straddling my hips, facing me. She reached back and slipped

my cock inside her. Pleasuring Marie had obviously aroused her as I

slid straight in. She gazed into my eyes in the dim light of the bedside

lamp as her vulva drew figures of eight on my groin. I contributed by

using my right hand to tease her clit while my left caressed her tits,

swapping between them as she worked. All too soon, her rhythm started to

go. "Some help here," she pleaded. "I'm not sure I can keep focused."

I

pulled her down into a kiss as I took over thrusting upwards into her

cunt. The position we were in ensured that the root of my cock brushed

her clit with every stroke. I'd already ejaculated once into my wife, so

this time wasn't so urgent for me. Eventually, though, I could feel the

tension rising within me. "Soon Angie," I warned her.

"So close," she moaned. "Please just;” I tried to hold back but I needed to keep going. "Oh, it feels like;”

I

speeded up. There was no merit in edging now; we both needed to come. I

surrendered first but, as I tried to keep going after pumping my sperm

deep inside her, I could sense her vaginal muscles rippling around my

length. I gave two more deep thrusts before my erection began to subside

and my lover collapsed on top of me. I thought, as we gave each other

one last kiss before we dozed, "What did I do to deserve such luck?"

Then I realized. I'd asked the cute, stacked, language graduate lying

next to us to marry me. Smartest move I'd ever made.

Everybody

seemed to have a morning-after glow over breakfast next day. "Sleep

well?" I asked Peter and Jen, grinning at them over my cereal.

Peter

looked uncomfortable. Jen less so. "To be honest, Geoff," she said.

"Since we arrived, pretty much every conversation that hasn't been about

Canada has been about your ceremony or sex. And even your celebration

is about you, Marie and Angela having sex. So you'll excuse me if I

don't apologize for being so horny that I tried to bang your son's

brains out last night."

"We

never heard you," Angie broke in. "So don't feel embarrassed. We all

had a lovely session ourselves too. Marie missed the second act 'cos she

was orgasmed out."

"For goodness sake, Angie!" Peter groaned. "Jen; really, did you both need to share that?"

Marie

joined in. "We are happy to limit our talks about love and affection in

front of Colin because he's only thirteen. But you two are old enough

to acknowledge that mum and dad have sex." She shook her head. "You were

both allowed to share a bed in our home when you were first dating. We

understood that you were a couple in a sexual relationship then, and you

still are now. Why dance around the topic?"

She

reached across to hold Jen's hand. "Geoff is starting to understand and

appreciate how women think about sex. Peter is his father's son. Talk

to him. Tell him your fantasies, what you like. Ask him his. If they are

a step too far, like our sharing, then role play. But enjoy each

other." She looked wistfully across the table. We could have brought

Ange to our bed years ago, when she had no-one, and who would it have

hurt?"

"Maybe

we just weren't ready, babe," Angie consoled her. "But we're here now,

so don't let what might have been detract from that."

Peter

was quiet for a moment; I worried that we'd overstepped a boundary.

"No," he said, slowly. "I apologize. You are right. I don't want to do

what dad is doing because, just now, it would hurt Jen and make her feel

insecure. Equally, I don't want to share her either. But if, at some

point, we were in your position, I would want to know that Jen could at

least be honest with me: not be afraid to tell me how she felt."

"See." My wife smiled proudly at her son. "It didn't skip a generation. He's just as smart as his dad."

Jen

leant over to whisper between Marie and Angie. I didn't entirely catch

what she said but the words, 'good', 'bed' and 'too' seemed to be in

there.

The

three women disappeared while Peter and I tidied the kitchen, returning

ten minutes later with bundles of bed linens for the wash. Of course!

It was Wednesday; Lucy and Angie's turn to attend our language class. I

wasn't sure how we'd schedule tonight, given that Ange was already a

regular in our bed. Doubtless I'd find out in due course.

Anyway,

Peter and Jen were setting off for home. It was only a two hour drive

or so but they wanted to get there before lunch to get their house

sorted before the prospect of returning to work raised its ugly head. We

waved them off, promising to keep them up to date on our wedding plans.

That being how we'd agreed to refer to our joining in future.

The

house seemed empty as we walked back inside but there was plenty to do

before our guest (note the singular) arrived. "Ladies," I asked as we

began some overdue housework. "How will tonight work? It's Lucy and

Angie's turn tonight but it seems odd treating Angie like all the other

girls now. Should we just go with the flow?"

"I know," Marie mused. "It does feel different now, somehow. Let's ask Lucy how she wants to play."

Angie

agreed so, that decided, we divided up the jobs and set to work. By one

o'clock, the house was immaculate, the beds in the three rooms we were

using; ours, the playroom and Angie's room were all freshly made and the

toys were cleaned and sanitized, but locked away until Colin and Linda

had left. We had a light lunch and decided to take an afternoon stroll

to the deli together to find something for teatime. They had some nice

Toulouse sausage that was begging to be made into a cassoulet and so the

decision was made for us.

Marie

phoned Lucy as we wandered back with our purchases, (well, you can't

just buy one item, can you?) and invited her to join us for our evening

meal. Apparently, Wednesdays, Eddie had decided, were now his regular

darts night at the Fox and Hounds and so Lucy had the evening to

herself, again. I resolved to give that some thought.

The

girls (apologies to any feminists, but this is the label they chose for

themselves) helped prep the garlic, carrots, onions and tomatoes while I

blitzed some bread into breadcrumbs and grabbed some wine, beans and

herbs. A little bit of frying in olive oil and then everything except

the bread went into the pot and in the oven. The girls went to find the

next episode of our Star Wars saga while I made a call.

"Mike? Yes, it's Geoff. How is your new living arrangement going?"

"Really?

I'm so relieved. Yes, Marie and I were worried that your wife might

actually find that the reality of sharing you with her sister in law

wasn't the same as the fantasy."

"Oh! Wow. No, I'm only using the erection enhancer once or twice a week. Careful; at that rate it might just drop off."

"Yes,

Angie's fine too. Actually, We're formalizing our relationship with a

private celebration. Would you and your ladies like to join us? Great.

I'll let you have the details once they're settled."

"Now.

Do you know anyone who drinks in the Fox and Hounds? I need a spy in

there, tonight if possible, next Wednesday otherwise."

"Yes,

I suppose that I could be persuaded to contribute towards an evening

out for you and your partners; especially after you got me onto the ED22

trial. Sixty quid for a report back on an overweight idiot called Eddie

supposedly playing darts after work. Late fifties, scruffy beard,

balding with a ridiculous comb-over."

"Great. Nice doing business with you. Speak tomorrow. Bye."

I

joined the girls. We had time for one episode before it was time to

collect Colin from school. I had a feeling that he'd want to watch

another one with us too. Just in case Emily wanted to talk about it. He

and I definitely needed that chat.

My

suspicions were correct but an absence of homework that evening meant

that watching TV wasn't a problem. As the credits rolled, I turned the

set off and asked Colin to join me in the study.

"Okay

Colin, your mum says that you can invite Mia to our wedding as your

plus one. She also says that you and your friend can choose your own

costumes but they must be age-appropriate. Can you live with that?"

"Do you mean that we can only wear clothes that children in the stories wear?" He asked.

"Not

at all," I replied, thinking that it was a fair question. "You can wear

any sensible costume that does not sexualize you or, more particularly,

Mia. That would be inappropriate for thirteen year olds."

"I

think I would like the black outfit that Luke wears when he confronts

Jabba," he offered. I thought that was a reasonable choice. "And," he

continued," Mia couldn't decide between Padme's white suit with the

scarf cloak thingy or one of Rey's outfits."

I

gave the matter some thought. "Well," I suggested after some

consideration. "As long as your character doesn't mind dating his mum,

you and Mia as a couple, you in black and her in white, would look quite

striking. But neither of her suggestions are a problem. Choose

whichever you prefer. When you've decided, send me a link and I'll

forward it to Adrian." Then something else occurred to me. "Show Mia's

mum first. I'm not getting dragged into a family dispute if her mum

doesn't approve."

Colin thanked me and got up to leave. I bit the bullet. "One last thing."

"Yes grandad?"

"Your

mum would like me to have a chat with you about sex. I've seen your

biology homework on reproduction so I know that you've covered the topic

in school, but she wants us to start to talk about how it affects you.

Crushes, girls, bodily changes, on-line grooming, that sort of thing."

He looked a bit uncomfortable. "Do we have to?"

"Colin.

I wish I'd had someone who'd be honest with me at your age. My dad was

too embarrassed and, although my mother was terrified I'd bring shame on

our family, she gave me absolutely no advice on how not to. I assume

she spent my entire adolescence waiting for me to confess that I'd got

some girl pregnant. Thankfully, one of my mates had sensible parents and

he shared their guidance with me. My lot were no help at all."

"That makes sense, I suppose," he conceded.

"We'll

have a chat next week. Just think of any questions that concern you at

the moment and I'll answer them honestly. There are some things you

don't need to bother about until you are older: we can just park them

for now unless you really want to know."

"Okay," he cheered up. "Can I call Mia now?"

"Of course. Just make sure that she's being honest with her parents."

"It's just her mum. Mia never talks about her dad."

"That will probably be in your favor then. Dads are always suspicious of boys wanting to date their daughters. Go on. Scoot!"

He grinned and disappeared.

I

caught up with the girls in the kitchen, to be informed that the

cassoulet was doing nicely. I added the breadcrumbs in a nice thick

layer over the top and followed with some more herbs and even grated

hard cheese; not traditional but who's going to tell? Then the dish went

back in the oven to brown.

We

were setting the table and chatting when we heard the doorbell. Marie

went and we heard her greeting Lucy. She was a little early but Linda

was in the loop so why worry?

"Hi

Geoff," she greeted me, following up with a big kiss. "Who's this?" She

added, looking over my shoulder, having just removed her tongue from my

mouth. Bugger! The sneaky little ninja must have crept downstairs

thinking his mum had arrived.

I

glossed over her over affectionate greeting. "Lucy, this is Linda's son

Colin. Colin, this is grandma's friend Lucy; she's an artist. She's

going to help with grandma's costume."

"Cool," he replied. Adding, "Nice to meet you," whilst giving me a rather searching stare.

"What did Mia say?" I asked, changing the subject.

"She

liked the black and white idea but her mum says can she collect us from

school tomorrow and let us do our homework together here while she

talks to you. She says she's a little confused."

I

glanced at the three girls. They shrugged. What the hell; if we were

ashamed, we shouldn't do it, and Mia's mum was entitled to know who and

what her daughter was mixed up with. "Of course," I acceded. "Tell her

they are both welcome and we'd love them to stay for tea." I thought

through some simple recipes. "Ask them if a paella would be okay. If

they can't eat shellfish I can easily do something else."

Linda

arrived shortly afterwards and, though obviously surprised to find Lucy

there, she seemed comfortable with the situation. She and her

boyfriend, Mike (no, not that one) were taking Colin to the cinema to

see the latest film in the Marvel franchise, so they were dining out

first. She chatted briefly with the other three women and they left;

Colin reminding me that we had guests for tea the following evening and

informing me that both were happy with my suggestion.

We

repaired to the kitchen and served up the cassoulet, slicing the coil

of sausage into bite sized pieces. I opened a bottle of Melini Chianti

to go with it; I know Chianti isn't French but I'm a bit of a rebel on

the quiet. We ate at the small table in the kitchen, chatting about

Lucy's exhibition, a great success; our wedding, a lot of planning still

to do and Lucy's marriage, still a total fucking disaster. I didn't

mention my own covert interference. Well, I didn't really have anything

to add to what Lucy already knew.

Marie

finally moved us on to the reason for Lucy's visit. "Since we first set

out our timetable," she pointed out. "Our circumstances have changed

rather quickly. We initially assumed that you and Angie would be

visiting us just like the other girls but the fact is that Angie has

already been staying for a couple of days. So, really, we can do

anything you want tonight. It only seems fair."

I sat quietly as Lucy considered. Eventually she seemed to come to a decision. "Anything?" She asked.

"Anything

within our original terms and conditions," Marie clarified.

"Consensual, no harm, discreet and nothing that threatens our marriage.

Is that a problem?"

"No,

don't think so," Lucy announced. "I'll let you decide though." She

turned to address her next comment to me. "So Geoff, would you like me

to be your free-use sex toy?" She looked back across the table to my

wife. "Is that within the rules?"

Angie's

shoulders were heaving with the giggles and Marie struggled to keep a

straight face. "Well, as long as Geoff agrees, I suppose it must be. May

we ask why?"

Lucy

gave her question some thought before answering. "Well, it's like this.

The other girls have all discussed their time with Geoff, and they all

really really enjoyed it. But it seemed to me that Geoff was doing

everything just for them. I want to be different and do whatever Geoff

wants."

"But

Lucy," I interrupted. "I'm getting to have sex with several wonderful

women with my wife's approval. What part of that seems so hard? Be quiet

Angela." I interjected quickly, knowing that she was about to pounce on

my unfortunate choice of words.

Lucy

was unrepentant. "Marie's your wife so you are probably reluctant to

share your dirtiest fantasies with her, and the rest of the girls say

that you go out of your way to be the lover that you think they need;

Angie included." She took my face in her hands. "I am just so grateful

that you showed me that I'm still a desirable woman that I'm happy to

let you do whatever you want to me." She paused again to look at my

wife. "Marie just told us that whatever we do has to be consensual." She

stared intently into my eyes. "Geoff, in front of two witnesses I give

you consent to do absolutely anything you want to me at any time you

wish."

Now

this might seem odd to you, sitting there reading this, but it gave me

quite a conundrum. With the other girls, even with Marie, I had a goal;

to make them happy, to give them orgasms. The fact that I would be

touching tits, fingering cunts and having my cock in all sorts of

fascinating places was a magnificent side effect that I was privileged

to experience. I've said it before; I don't understand men who think

that sticking their cock into a woman, pumping twice, ejaculating and

walking away is a satisfying sexual experience. I take pleasure in

giving pleasure, and Lucy turning the tables on me left me confused.

My

wife and Angie watched on in amusement as I tried to assemble my

thoughts. "But I liked pleasing the others." I bleated. Why I felt so

defensive, I still can't really explain. "And Marie and now Angie have

never refused me anything I've asked of them."

"But

you're filtering, aren't you?" She said accusingly. "They don't refuse

because you'll never ask them to do anything that you don't think they'd

like." Well, that was probably true but nor would I ask Lucy. "I. Will.

Do. Anything!" She all but growled at me. I looked helplessly at Marie,

seeing from the smirk on her face that she was going to be no bloody

help at all. I turned to Angie but she was too busy wiping tears of

malicious joy from her eyes to contribute anything useful either.

I

tried another tack. "But Lucy." I must have sounded like a whining kid.

"I can't think of anything that I want to do to you that we can't just

do anyway."

"When

I get a commission," she said, in a quiet, reasoned tone. "I am like

you. I need to listen to the client and deliver, in my style, the work

that they asked me to produce." She looked to see if I was following. I

nodded; I was with her so far. "But, when I'm producing my own work, I

can follow my internal desires and express feelings locked deep inside

me. That's what I want you to do and to use me as your canvas."

Marie

looked intrigued now. I think that Lucy was speaking in her language

rather than mine. I was used to researching materials to make jet

turbine blades and the like. Expressing internal desires wasn't a

particularly helpful approach; a knowledge of physics and math was

generally far more useful.

"You

should listen to her, Geoff." My wife surprised me with her comment.

"Lucy is very different from you, even more so than me. Perhaps she can

help you to access a part of yourself that you need to discover. At our

age, why turn down a new opportunity like that?"

Angie agreed. "Geoff. Even though it was an accident, you found my submissive side. Why not explore yourself with Lucy's help?"

"And if I don't like what I find?" I retorted.

Of

course, Marie had anticipated my concerns. "Then, my darling, all the

woman that you have worked your magic on will help you deal with it, the

same way that you have helped them."

I

considered my situation. I had no doubt that Lucy's suggestion was

sincere. Equally, I knew that neither Marie, nor Angie found it

disturbing. I suspected that, from their point of view anyway, it was

typical Lucy. But, at the same time, I did believe what I'd said: Marie

had never denied me anything. Still, one of Lucy's arguments struck a

chord. Was she right? Was I really limiting my requests to things that I

was confident that my wife, or Angie, would be comfortable with?

I

made my mind up. "Take few more minutes to finish your wine, ladies," I

suggested. "If we're going off-piste this evening, then I would like a

little more time to consider what inner desires I need to express, and

how." I stood and walked to the kitchen door. "I'm going to raid the toy

box and then the three of you can have the first hour and a half

together in our room while I channel my inner pervert, then, after a

quick drink, I'm taking Lucy to the playroom to accept her offer."

Leaving

them giggling over their wine (it was excellent, by the way) I marched

upstairs and raided the toy box for items that intrigued me for no

obvious reason, and took them to the second en-suite bedroom that we had

christened the playroom. Returning to the girls, I gestured grandly

towards the stairs. "Ladies, ninety minutes of Sapphic delight awaits

you. Please enjoy yourselves. Hot drinks will be available in the

interval. I'll meet you back here at eight fifteen."

Angie,

tall and rangy, held her hand out to her petite blonde friend. "Lucy. I

know this seems too weird, but trust us. Tonight is going to be

awesome." They almost skipped their way upstairs.

Marie

held back. "Are you okay Geoff?" She sounded genuinely concerned.

"Don't overthink this. Lucy just wants to let you be free. It shouldn't

threaten your pleasure. If it does, stop thinking and just put your cock

in her. She'll be fine with that." And, stepping up on tiptoes, she

kissed me on the lips and followed her two friends upstairs.

Now,

everything that I'd said that night had been true. But there was one

thing that I needed to check. In my research since Marie and I

reconnected, and particularly since we invited her friends to join us, I

had found one website which was a particularly useful resource for

describing fetishes. It even carried stories, some exploring said

fetishes in detail. A few, like those involving incest, were of no

interest to me; others, I admit, I had dismissed as being intriguing but

unattainable. But now; perhaps.

So

I logged on and looked through some of the stories that I had saved to

my favorites and there were a number of stories from one particular

series that seemed to have caught my attention. I opened the first tale

and skimmed through it. The main character was a man who had the time

and inclination to devote himself to making women orgasm. That was his

thing. I approved. I red quickly through a few more in the same series

for inspiration. While my resources were more limited than the fictional

central character's, I certainly had enough toys to copy the principle,

if not the detail of the delights he had for his lovers. I realized, as

I logged out, that I was erect. Perhaps Lucy was right. I'd teetered at

the edge but never actually committed; maybe little Geoff understood

something that I didn't.

I

returned to our playroom and check my inventory. It appeared that I had

unconsciously curated everything I needed to make my turn with Lucy

memorable. Who knows? She might even get another painting out of it. I

went back downstairs and prepped some cups for a half time coffee break,

took one of my erection enhancers and went back to my most recent

Discworld book. I was still lost in its pages twenty minutes later when

three flushed women re-joined me.

"Geoffrey," Lucy informed me breathlessly. "Your wife is a very dirty girl."

"I know," I grinned back at her. "I have been truly blessed."

"And Angie," Lucy continued. "She's got such stamina."

"And that's why we're keeping her," I observed, with some satisfaction.

I

put my book down and patted my lap. Lucy perched on it, wiggling her

cute tush to get my cock just so, her dressing gown falling open to show

most of her pert little boobs.

Marie

leaned over the side of my chair to kiss my cheek. "Our agreement was

that we were never alone while the other was entertaining. Were you okay

with this?"

I took her hand and kissed it. "It was my suggestion," I pointed out. "I had things to do. We're fine."

Angie

came through from the kitchen with coffees and cakes and we chatted

about Lucy's induction into three way lesbian sex. It's fair to say she

seemed to have embraced it enthusiastically. Then, the cups were empty

and all that remained of the cakes were crumbs. It was time to change

ends for the second half. Lucy and I stood and, picking up my book, I

led her to my room. I saw Marie's look of surprise, but I had no

intention of explaining.

Once

in the playroom I unfastened Lucy's dressing gown and admired her body.

From a distance she could pass for a teenager. Even close up she

doesn't seem to be in her early sixties. Her long blonde hair is still

silky, her skin is smooth and her boobs are small but a perfect fit on

her 4 foot 10 frame.

"What

are you, Lucy? Why are you here?" I asked her. Not menacing. She wasn't

being submissive, like Angie and certainly not like Emily, she had just

given herself to me as a gift. That in itself didn't seem to excite

her, it's just how things were. She's weird.

"You

made me feel desirable again. In return, I'm willing to be your fuck

doll. Marie and Angela both heard me say it. My body is yours to use as

you wish. I trust you not to break it."

I

decided to give her a chance to reconsider. "I have spanked Angie and

sometimes caused Marie a little pain when she's aroused. If we continue

tonight I intend do that, and more, to you. Our safe-word is 'Desist'

and, if your mouth is full, just hold your forefingers to your thumbs on

both hands. If I see you do that, I'll stop whatever I'm doing. But

it's important to me that you understand: We don't have to do exotic

things, if you prefer we can just make love like two sane people."

She

shook her head determinedly. "I've had all the mundane sex I'll ever

need already with Eddie. Even the way that you touched me in the pub was

a first for me and I'd never kissed another woman. Tonight I've had sex

with two. If you just want to stick your cock in me that's fine, but I

think there are probably things that you haven't dared share with Marie.

Experiment on me first and then let Marie decide if she wants to try."

Her

message was clear enough; we were on. "Lay on your back on the bed, in

the middle," I instructed. She smiled as she slipped her robe off as she

complied. "Lift your arms above your head." She did and then watched

carefully as I bound her wrists together and lashed them to the center

of the bed-head. Moving to her ankles they were tied to the legs at the

bottom of the bed leaving her in an inverted 'Y' shape with her sex

exposed. She licked her lips lasciviously as she watched me work.

"You seem over-dressed, Geoff," she observed as I admired my handiwork.

I

stayed silent as I fastened one of my own leather belts around her

waist and pulled it tight. Two lengths of cord secured the belt to the

side of the bed-frame. Now she was almost totally immobile and I dealt

with her last residual freedom of movement by looping a soft rope around

each knee and fastening them to the frame too. There was nowhere she

could go.

That

was just the first step though: now it got serious. On our first trip

to the sex store I had taken the ball gag and the flogger out of our

basket and put them back on the shelf. On our second visit, with Sue and

Margie, someone had obviously reclaimed them while my back was turned

and included them in our purchases. That was fortunate. The ball gag

went in Lucy's mouth. A silk scarf, folded several times, blindfolded

her. Now for the toys. I lubed up an anal vibrator and slipped it

carefully into her back passage, her sphincter gripping the narrow neck

to keep it in place. Lucy made a muffled sound around the gag, but

whether it was surprise, anguish or delight, only she knew. I flipped

the switch to turn it on. I turned on another vibrator and slid it

inside her exposed cunt. I made a mental note to buy a Bluetooth model

that I could control from my phone.

I

had found the nipple clamps that the girls had insisted on buying. I

wasn't sure if Marie had used them on anyone yet, but tonight they would

adorn Lucy's small pink nubs. She gasped around the gag as I attached

them.

My

last act of exquisite torment was to take a wand vibrator, turn it to

high and strap it with elastic webbing between her thighs so that it was

permanently lodged against her clit. Then I walked quietly to my chair,

set an alarm on my phone for twenty minutes and went back to my book.

As

I red, I checked regularly to make sure that Lucy was not making our

safe signal with her hands. She never did; I was inexplicably proud of

her. I watched briefly as she spasmed through yet another orgasm and,

satisfied she was still not too distressed, returned to my book. When my

alarm went off, I checked her again and went down to the kitchen. I

boiled a kettle and filled a cup, dropping a teaspoon into the hot

liquid. Then I found out an insulated travel cup and dropped a handful

of ice cubes in it. I returned to the bedroom and undressed.

As

I watched this petite mature woman writhing as best she could against

her restraints as the wand vibrator brought her over-stimulated clitoris

to yet another orgasm, her fifth I suspected, I felt a little pity. I

wasn't even close to being finished with her either but, given her

determination not to tap-out, I decided to see my plan through and hope

she'd forgive me if I misjudged.

I

reached down and turned off the wand and unstrapped it. Her chest was

rising and falling, an endearing sight even with Lucy's relatively small

tits. I removed the vibrator from her cunt. She relaxed even more and

sighed around the ball gag. Deciding that I may need access to her

mouth, I freed her from that too. She took a huge gulp of air. I stroked

her forehead. "Was it awful, Lucy? Do you hate me now?"

"Fuck me, Geoff," she pleaded. "I came so many times but I still need you to fuck me. Please Geoff."

"Soon Lucy," I tried to sooth her. "Just a few more games to play."

She

started to argue until I removed the clamp from her right nipple. The

sensation as the blood started to flow again seemed to be intense. I

removed the left clamp and watched her face contort as her discomfort

built. In hindsight, perhaps touching the ice cubes to her sensitized

nipples was cruel; certainly the effect was electric. Her head shook

from side to side as the ice chilled her newly freed buds. I took the

spoon from my cup of hot water and tested it on my own lip: Hot but not

enough to burn. I touched the bowl against her right nipple. She

screamed, but didn't tell me to desist. Now the left nipple, a whimper

this time. I moved the ice cube to her clit, another squeal.

"What do you want, Lucy?" I taunted her.

"Fuck me, you bastard," she yelled. "Fill me up with your spunk. For fuck's sake just fucking do me!"

"No,"

I replied. "We have one more toy to try." I ignored her entreaties to

just fucking fuck her and picked up the flogger. The model that one of

my scamps had sneaked into the shopping was about 18 inches long, about

half that length being the grip and the remainder made up of 48 thin

leather laces calculated to 'caress the flesh with light stings that

bring blood to the surface for a heated sensation' according to the

catalogue. One can only imagine what that felt like with ten strokes

applied firmly to each of Lucy's tender tits. Lucy, of course, now

knows. She knows too how it felt applied to her vulva. She did not thank

me for applying ice to cool those areas. Or the hot spoon.

In

fact, after about five minutes of experimenting with the flogger across

her whole body, she was even more incensed. "Fuck me now you fucking

cunt!" She all but shrieked. "Stick that fucking cock in your slut's

cunt and just fucking fuck me you bastard son of a whore!" I think we

had found a whole new level of sexual arousal.

I'd

left the anal vibrator where it was, quietly buzzing inside her and it

was an odd sensation when I finally slid inside her cunt. I was amazed

at how wet she was but there was still enough friction for us both to

enjoy our coupling as her cunt muscles gripped like a vice as I entered.

Lucy

was still bound and blindfolded that first time. The uniqueness of our

situation reflecting in her response as I began to slew in and out.

"Yes. Yes. Fucking yes!" She bawled. "About fucking time. Now bang me

like a fucking bass drum you fucking bastard!" I'm just like any other

man of my generation. If someone asks nicely I'll always do my best to

help.

Anyway,

after five minutes and at least one more orgasm from Lucy, I pulled

out. I moved to her head untying the silk blindfold. "Suck my cock

really well and I'll untie you and we'll fuck again. Refuse or do it

badly and I'll leave you here until our time's up."

She

glared at me and opened her mouth wide to receive me. I admit to

feeling like a total shit as I pushed the head of my cock past her lips;

she still hadn't said the word though, so on we went. Feeling an odd

fusion of shame and elation, I held Lucy's head as I fucked her face. I

managed not to lose control though. I wanted her to feel used, not

abused. When I got to the limit of her ability to take me without

choking, that was the point I stopped at. It must have been another

three of four minutes before I felt the burn begin and then I pulled out

and pulsed my semen over her face and on her lips.

She

licked it off and swallowed. "How did I do?" She challenged me. "Did I

pass? Did I suck like a good girl? Do I get to fuck you properly now?"

Her voice rose with each question so that the last could have been heard

downstairs,

In

answer, I pulled the cords that released her hands and feet and

unfastened the belt around her waist. She luxuriated at the feeling of

being able to move her arms again and then reached for me. This was the

moment; was she going to slap me senseless for what I'd done to her?

Lucy

took my face in her hands. "That was so fucking intense," she

whispered. "Please, please tell me that you still have something left."

"Soon,"

I reassured her. "But just now I want to kiss you better and try to

take away all of the pain that I caused." So saying, I bent down and

kissed her. She responded enthusiastically. I moved to her tits. I

looked up as I took her right nipple in my mouth. Her eyes widened. "Oh

my God," she gasped. "They are so sensitive." I nodded in understanding

and began to suckle, gently at first then more urgently as she adjusted.

I alternated left to right and back. my hands palpating the tit that I

wasn't tonguing. Her breathing quickened. "Jesus," she breathed softly.

"You surely can't make me come like this? Oh God. Oh God." Turns out, I

could.

When

her muscle spasms abated, I moved down, kissing her belly as I went.

Finally I arrived at the center of her pleasure. I pulled the vibrator

from her bum, dropping it onto the towel by the bed alongside the other

toys. Then I paused to revel in the sight of her sex. Her clit was

engorged, as were her labia. The entrance to her cunt gaped, glistening

with the copious amount of lubricant she'd generated as she orgasmed

repeatedly. Her inner lips were a gorgeous coral pink and just begged to

be kissed and you should know by now that was an invitation that I

could never refuse.

I

bent to my task and was rewarded by the sounds of her breathing

becoming ever more ragged. By now I was almost erect once more so I

knelt up between her thighs and slipped inside her again. This time she

could participate; hold me, spread her legs, thrust up to meet me. This

time we made love, kissing caressing stroking; our legs wrapping around

each other’s as we both strove to find that magical unattainable

position that makes that final climax the best it can possibly be.

Personally, I think we did well. Lucy was on an orgasmic high and either

came more than once or only once but for a very long time. Me? Five or

six minutes was the best that I could do before being embedded in this

wonderful little body become too much and I flooded deep inside her and

collapsed, spent but euphoric.

Eventually I opened my eyes and turned to find Lucy regarding me thoughtfully. "What did you find, you know, inside yourself?"

I

considered. "I think I understand better now how far I'm prepared to

go. But," I cautioned. "Even all of this was because my kink is making

women orgasm. It's who I am. I don't want you to be my sex slave but, if

you're happy to be my guinea pig, girl have I got a treat for you next

time." She smiled happily and snuggled up to me.

After five minutes cuddling it was nearly time to meet Marie and Angie downstairs. "Shower?" I offered.

"Not

yet," Lucy surprised me. "I want Angie and Marie to see what you've

done to me," she explained mischievously. Who was I to argue?

My

wife and her pal were already there, pouring tea, when we arrived.

Marie almost recoiled when she saw the state Lucy was in. Her silky hair

was matted with sweat; her skin was flushed and glistening; her

adorable elfin features were still streaked with my semen; when her gown

gaped open her nipples were still obviously raw, and she looked, to be

honest, as though she had just serviced an entire football team: and the

coaching staff: possibly twice.

"Dear God! Lucy what has he done to you? Geoffrey." Oops that's my 'you've been naughty name'. "What the Hell did you do?"

It

was a silly question, really. She knows that we promised to keep

whatever went on behind closed doors private. "A gentleman never tells,"

I reminded her. It didn't go down well but she knew that was all she'd

get from me.

She turned to Lucy, while Angie watched the entertainment. "Are you alright Lucy?" She persisted.

"Alright?

It was incredible. I lost count after the eighth time I came. I had six

orgasms while he wasn't even touching me. Fuck! How I hated him! But it

was so intense. I've never experienced anything like it." The words

spurted out of her like water from a hose. "He tied me up, blindfolded

me, put things on my tits, put things in me and then left me, helpless,

just cumming all the time. It was awful but I need to know he'll do it

again, not every time. God, no, that would be too much, but sometimes.

Oh fuck, Marie, you have to let him do it to you too. I feel so alive."

She

stopped, having run out of breath. Angie looked at me with a raised

eyebrow. I saw her eyebrow and raised her a wink. She nodded

contentedly. "Soon," she mouthed. I smiled in acknowledgement.

Marie

seemed less excited at Lucy's description. Her look was more

appraising. "I think Lucy's brief summary releases you from any concerns

about confidentiality. Would you like to share any thoughts?"

I

was feeling a little defensive. "I did what you said and explored my

inner self. Lucy has already asked me what I'd found." I had Marie and

Angie's attention then. "I realized that my quirk is no more than taking

pleasure in making women come. By prolonging the process for the woman I

extend my own pleasure. I already know what I intend to do to Lucy next

time she asks me. I won't tell her though; anticipation is part of the

thrill." Lucy's face lit up.

I

calmed down a little. "If I had known about Sam's preferences earlier,

then she might have enjoyed what Lucy just experienced, if I'd had the

nerve. I know that Angie is desperate to go there too but, without Lucy

pushing me, with your support, may I add, then I don't think that I

would have had the courage to fully commit. Now, I know how far I'm

prepared to go." I leant against the table, my head bowed. "Only the

fact that Lucy enjoyed it, justifies how badly I treated her. This isn't

the me you know but, if you beg, this is who I'm prepared to be for you

all."

"I'm in!" That was Angie. To be fair, I think she had a couple of decades of missed sexual opportunities to make up for.

Marie

seemed conflicted. I think I knew why. We needed to talk, and sooner

rather than later. "Angie, sweetheart. Please will you take Lucy

upstairs and be there for her while she showers?" I asked. "She may

still be a little overwhelmed and I need a word with Marie." Angie

actually got the message and she and Lucy disappeared upstairs, Lucy

revisiting the highlights of our session as she went.

"Okay

love, it's just the two of us. Something's bothering you and you need

to share before it festers" I said, my voice expressing my genuine

concern.

"I

don't think I want you to do that to me," she admitted quietly, walking

up to me for a hug. Good! We weren't falling out over this.

"Are you unhappy that your friends might be excited about doing something that you find too extreme?"

"I think perhaps I am. Does that make me a bad person?"

"I'm

having sex with eight other women but I'm still unable to think about

you with another man. Does that make me any better?" I countered.

"But

I know I'm being unreasonable," she admitted. "Why should the girls be

denied something just because I'm too precious to submit? It isn't as

though I don't trust you;”

"Break

the problem down," I suggested. "Why don't you want to participate and

why would it be an issue for you if Sam and Angie did?" Marie hesitated,

unable to respond. I didn't want to push her. "Don't answer now: sleep

on it. We can talk more later."

We

changed the subject as we waited for Lucy to finish in the bathroom.

After she'd left, thanking us all profusely, Angie went too. She said

that she had some consultancy work to prepare for at home.

My

wife and I went straight up to bed, just to hold each other and

snuggle. Marie had some issues to resolve and the next day we had to

explain to Mia's mum why Colin had invited her teenage daughter to a

Jedi ceremony celebrating a retired couple adding another woman to their

marriage. How could the conversation at that meal possibly be

uncomfortable?

Still that was Thursday's problem. I never could get the hang of Thursdays, until recently, anyway.

To be continued in part 11. Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts, for Literotica.