Geoff and Marie’s Good Life: Part 14Geoff  The ModelGeoffrey's Cock Immortalized.

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

We

had paid for the J and W Rum and left the store when a rather naughty

thought occurred to me, and I freely admit to being both deeply ashamed

and inordinately proud of it at the same time. "Why not ask Tony if we

can rent the upstairs room at The Black Swan for a couple of hours," I

suggested. "That way you can have a proper birthday party in private and

we could see how it might work for our wedding."

"Isn't a bit big for just us seven girls? Or, I suppose nine if Wendy and Jane come along too."

"I

was thinking of popping along as well, if I'm welcome," I told her,

mischievously. "I thought that I might also invite some friends. You

know, for a bigger audience for the birthday girl's special treat." I

gave special a very sleazy emphasis.

"You wouldn't!" She gasped in astonished horror a moment later, as she realized what I was proposing.

"It's her fantasy," I reminded her. "At our age, when would she ever get the chance again?"

"She'd

be mortified. What if she gets stage fright and can't go on?" Marie

protested. "Then she'll feel as though she's let everyone down."

"What

if she doesn't, and she gets the chance to give a live sex performance

in front of total strangers as well as her friends," I countered. "This

has been her fantasy since she saw that one in Amsterdam when she was in

her twenties. You and I, along with our friends, could make it happen,

this week. Her life-long unfulfilled dream; why would we not?"

I

understood Marie's reluctance. Despite my enthusiasm, I wasn't

oblivious to all the things that might go wrong. Our audience needed to

be discreet; the setting private and the atmosphere warm and intimate.

If this was going to happen, I had three days to arrange it. Grand: I

enjoyed a challenge.

"Who would you invite?" Marie asked. Aha! She was considering it.

"All

your friends will be there, of course, including Margie and Sue,

Charles if he can make it, Wendy and Jane, Ken and his wife, Mike and

his two ladies and our student friends. Not quite twenty in the

audience."

"That's a lot of people," she mused.

"All the better," I countered.

"What

about you?" It was a reasonable question. A solo performance was okay

in principle, but that wasn't Jo's fantasy. She needed a sex partner, a

performing cock, me.

"I

think I'm okay with it," I replied. "I've given business critical

presentations in front of important clients, academics, ministers. Some

to groups of a hundred or more. This, in front of friends, actually

seems less intimidating; for now at least."

"Just

when I think I have your measure, my love," she smiled at me. "You

surprise me once again." She touched my cheek, fondly. "Don't ever

stop."

I

was slightly distracted driving home, making a mental list of what

needed to be done by Friday. Then something Marie had said registered.

"You said that Jo should have been with us tomorrow," I recalled. "Who

will be coming, then?"

"Well,

it should have been Jo and Kate. Then Megan and Sam, then Angie and

Lucy and then, of course, we have to fit in Margie and Sue." She frowned

in frustration. "But you sleep with Angie and me regularly. And Lucy

almost as often, it seems. You only just fucked Megan this afternoon and

Margie and Sue over the weekend." She tutted to herself. "Angie's

getting quite vexed at the way your random copulations are messing up

her spreadsheet." She gave me a wry smile across the car. "Little

Geoffrey's been a busy boy just lately. Not that I'm complaining," she

added quickly, in case I misunderstood. "I'm more than content that

you're not neglecting me."

"Wednesday night?" I reminded her of my original question.

"Well, that's the thing; isn't it?" She squirmed uncomfortably. "The obvious two are Kate and Sam."

She

was right of course. In Jo's absence, Megan would have been the obvious

substitute. Megan whose bed I'd just left. The next in the sequence was

Sam, the forty-something paramedic; Kate's daughter.

"Oh," I contributed, rather unhelpfully.

"Exactly,"

Marie replied. "But we knew that it could happen. We even decided that

we would be prepared to invite them both on the same evening, but not to

have our open-door policy afterwards. I think that encouraging incest,

even lesbian incest, is a step too far." She smiled to herself. "Even

for us."

When

got home, Marie was going to speak to Sam and Kate to explain the

situation and find out how they felt about it, and then ring round to

tell the others about our plan. I made some calls of my own.

First

was Tony, the landlord at The Black Swan. We'd just seen the room, but

if it wasn't available, the whole prospect became more difficult. It was

and I agreed to call in that evening to discuss the arrangements. That

meant that I was free to invite guests. Like Marie, I shied away from

involving family. As tempting as it was, Peter, Linda and their partners

were not getting an invitation to see me banging one of Marie's best

friends.

Mike,

my friend from my rugby days called to his wife when I told him my

plan. She shouted back that they would all be delighted to come. She

wanted to meet the people who had made the idea of their own formal

three person relationship seem possible.

Next

was Adrian. He seemed to be the core of the group of students we'd met

in the pub. He and Emily, his very submissive girlfriend, were close to

Angie and me. They were both eager to come and he was sure that the

others, Mark, Tabbie and Alice, would too.

Our

favorite taxi driver, Ken, seemed keen but he needed to speak to his

wife, Cath, before he accepted for both of them. Personally, though I'd

only spoken to her on the phone, I was sure that she'd agree.

I

had left it to Marie to speak to Wendy and Jane and also to see if

Megan thought Charles might be able to attend. We met up about an hour

later in the kitchen. Everyone we'd spoken to was on board, we merely

needed confirmation from the others. I asked Marie how she'd described

the plan to Wendy and Jane.

She

looked a little awkward. "I invited them to the pub to meet the girls. I

told them that it was a surprise birthday party for one of my friends

and, if you could arrange it at short notice, there might be some adult

entertainment. I think that they are expecting a male stripper or

something. They both seemed very enthusiastic."

Sam

had been on duty when my wife called. She had explained the situation

to Kate who had promised to talk to her daughter and get back to us.

We

were deciding what to have for tea when Colin joined us. This time

without his friend, Mia. "Hello, sweetheart," his grandma greeted him.

"Where's your friend?"

"She does art club on Tuesdays after school. Her mum will pick her up."

"Grandad was thinking about making a lamb keema for tea. Does that sound okay?"

"That sounds amazing," he replied. He's an easy lad to feed.

I

sent him off to start his homework while we prepped the meal. In ten

minutes the onions were sliced, the garlic grated and the spices

measured ready to add. I finished chopping the wilted spinach and

checked the recipe. "All done, just twenty minutes cooking from start to

finish."

I left my wife to amuse herself and went in search of Colin. He was in my study frowning at my laptop. "Problem?" I asked.

"I

have to give three examples of something called 'Entropy' and I can't

really. I sort of understood in class, but it's just gone out of my

head."

A

passage from a Douglas Adams book came to mind; something about the

Tribesmen of the Cold Hillsides, the Princes of The Plains and the

Dwellers in the Forest. The first two would wage war with each other in

the forest and the latter group would suffer terribly as collateral

damage. When they asked why the war had to take place in their forest,

the answer, The Reason, seemed so obvious while it was being explained

but less so when they returned to the smoldering remains of their

villages. Most folk would recognize the feeling. I tried to help.

"Imagine this. Your mum has spent all Saturday morning cleaning and

tidying your bedroom. What does it look like the following Friday?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Not great," he mumbled.

"That's

entropy," I explained. "Your mum expended energy to put things into an

ordered state but, over time, that order decays towards randomness. Can

you think of similar examples?"

"Like ruined castles?" He asked, uncertain.

"Exactly," I replied

"Or copying a copy?"

"So describe what happens," I prompted him.

"We

still have a copier at school. If you copy a new document, then the

copy is pretty cool, but every time you copy a copy, the background gets

greyer and the text gets paler. Eventually, you have to guess what some

of the words are."

"So

now you have two examples of your own to submit, and you can use mine

too. Is that it?" I checked. "Shall I leave you to type that up?"

He looked uncomfortable. "The talk; About sex;”

I waited.

"Is it bad?" He asked.

"Not

really," I reassured him. "There's stuff you need to know now and

things you really don't need to know in detail for a couple of years."

He didn't look convinced.

"Okay,"

I began. "We'll start now so you don't get hung up worrying about

having to have this talk later. We'll talk about how your body will

change, how girls' bodies change and what utter bollocks your mates at

school will tell you when they try to show off how much they know about

sex."

He

seemed to relax and we sat talking quietly for forty minutes or so, me

taking a break for a coffee part way through. He coped well, though he

admitted that periods sounded gross. I pointed out that girls would

probably agree, but they weren't, by and large, optional. He also seemed

to understand my main point; that nature had come up with a simple

formula: cock plus cunt equals pregnancy. Until we had our next talk, in

a couple of years, dealing with the mechanics of sex, if he took

nothing else from our chat, he really had to remember that

straightforward equation.

He obviously understood what I was telling him. "So girls can get pregnant doing it standing up?"

"Absolutely," I agreed.

"Then it sounds like some of the Year Elevens are gonna be really deep in the doo doo."

"If

they've been getting their sex-ed exclusively from someone's big

brother who has a porn site subscription, then probably, yes."

"Thanks

grandad. That wasn't so bad." And so saying he went back to his

physics. I left him to it and went off in search of my wife.

Marie smiled up at me when I found her, reading in the lounge. "You are the total package aren't you, my love?"

I looked at her, quizzically.

"Sex,

my dear," she clarified. "I heard part of your tutorial with Colin. You

seem to excel at the theoretical as well as the practical aspects. Now,

if you ever manage to actually figure women out too, you could be a

Nobel Prize contender."

The

very thought made me laugh out loud. "Now you mention it though." I

lowered my voice and sat next to her. "I could do with talking to you

about Lucy."

"Before

you begin," Marie responded. "May I say this?" I sat back and she

continued. "Megan and I talk. She and Charles agree that Lucy is in love

with you. Her first husband died, her second husband is a treacherous

twat and you, my love, represent the closest thing in her life to a

constant male source of support."

She

saw me struggling to understand. "Megan, Kate and Jo, Margie and Sue

too, they just need sex. They like you and, more importantly, they trust

you, but their feelings go no further than trust and affection."

She

carried on, while I listened, fascinated. "Sam needs your intuitive

grasp of how to help her deal with her demons. She really needs

professional help but she appreciates the way you empathize with her

struggles."

"Angie

needs help dealing with the world. I'm not convinced she's actually

neurodiverse but she does have issues with some social interactions.

Personally, I wonder if it's just because she's so much more intelligent

than the rest of us that she sees these social niceties, behaviors that

are apparently so important to everyone else, as meaningless nonsense."

Marie gave me a hard stare. "You, dear husband, are her bridge. You

speak her language but you are connected to our world too. You give her

confidence and, when you command her, you allow her to shut down all of

her defenses and trust absolutely in you. She cherishes those moments of

peace."

"I,

on the other hand, need a partner. Someone who shares my goals and

values but with a different perspective. You and I together are greater

than the sum of our parts. I can hardly believe how close we came to

destroying something so perfect but it will never," her voice hardened,

"ever, happen again. Adding Angie to what we already have extends our

partnership in another dimension, one I'm looking forward to exploring."

She

took my hand. "And now back to your original point: All that Lucy needs

from you is your love. Knowing that you feel the way that you do about

her gives her value. She knows that she's a capable artist, but Eddie

made her question herself as a woman. You love me; and Angie. You think

Jo is gorgeous. But you've never been embarrassed to admit that you

think Lucy is sexy. That does wonders for her self-esteem. Yes, you

tease her about being a blonde dingbat, but that doesn't hurt her. She

knows it's affectionate.

"You've

seen her recent work. That's down to you; you let her rediscover the

woman she was fifteen years ago and she wants to repay you. So let her.

She would never do anything to harm what we have: so you and she may

have the same freedom as you and Angie. Love her and let her show her

love for you."

I sat, quietly impressed by Marie's comprehensive analysis of my sex life. "Jane and Wendy?" I prompted her.

She

considered for a moment. "With the benefit of hindsight,' she conceded.

"I should have let you sleep with Jane five or six years ago. She

needed you, and Ben would have benefited from growing up having you as a

role model. But;” Here she dipped her head in reluctant

acknowledgement. "We just weren't ready."

"Jane

has had a thing for you since before her husband passed. An innocent

enough crush at first, but your," She stared accusingly at me, "Your

supposedly innocent flirting has given her hope of some sort of part

emotional, part physical relationship."

She

sighed. "I think she needs to get laid; she needs to be reminded that

she's more than a widow and a single mum; she needs the confidence to

rebuild her life so she can move on."

I nodded slowly. That sounded like a fair summary.

My

wife graciously accepted my agreement and carried on. "Wendy is more

damaged. While Jane lost her husband to illness, she ought to realize

that she's still an attractive woman. Wendy has been hurt, though, just

like Lucy. She's convinced herself that her husband abandoned her,

because she's; what did she call herself? "A great heffalump". You, in

fact we, need to show her what a striking girl she actually is."

Marie frowned as she chose her next words. "It's possible that we may have to have you date her."

"Christ, Marie!" I exploded, taken by surprise. "I know we keep bending the rules, but this?"

"No,

dear." She disagreed. "We keep ignoring the rules, especially when they

interfere with what's needed. There should be only one rule; 'Primum

non nocere'."

I

looked blankly at her. "First do no harm," she translated for my

benefit. "Supposedly part of the Hippocratic Oath, but it seems just as

relevant here. If we can help Wendy at no risk to our marriage, what is

the point of an arbitrary rule, however well intentioned, that prevents

us? In fact." I got another hard stare. "Isn't this similar to the

argument you used to persuade me to go along with your scheme for Jo?"

Well,

no not really: perhaps a little. Okay, quite similar in a way. She went

back to her book while I considered her words. Nothing she had said

changed the way I viewed our friends. She had reminded me what an

amazing woman I'd been lucky enough to marry though. I was still

savoring that thought when Colin joined us.

He

explained his homework to his gran while I listened to make sure that

he'd understood just how fundamental the concept of entropy was. When he

said, "And grandma, it applies to everything, mountains, stars, even

people." I stood; my work here was done. My work in the kitchen,

however, was just about to start.

We

had a civilized, if spicy, meal with Linda and Colin then, once they

had left, I reminded my wife that I had an appointment at the pub. She

decided to send me on my own, saying that she would look for a suitable

way to wrap Jo's birthday present while I was gone. She did suggest that

I might like to limit my beer input and hurry back, as she fancied an

early night. I still had a few hours’ worth of my erection pill coursing

through my system, so that sounded like a most excellent idea.

It

was still fairly quiet in the bar when I arrived. I ordered a pint and

Tony pulled one for himself and joined me at a table, leaving the

barmaid to cope on her own. I explained that it was Marie's friend's

birthday on Friday and that I intended to invite some additional guests

to their usual 'girly get together' as a surprise.

He looked levelly at me. "I believe every word," he told me. "But you're not telling me everything. Go on; spill."

I

gave him one last chance. "Plausible deniability," I explained. "There

may be some adult entertainment involved. If you were prepared to let us

have the room with a locked door, you couldn't be accused of being

complicit."

"Are

we talking about male strippers banging screaming, sex-crazed, married

women?" He asked. "Because word gets around, and that's a reputation I

don't need."

I pointed to the stairs. "Five minutes," I suggested. "I'll explain and, if you agree, we'll see what I need to make it happen."

Ten

minutes later, we were back in the bar. We shook hands on the deal. The

room was ours from half past three on Friday afternoon at a very

reasonable rate. The only staff involved would be Tony and his wife,

Gail, as long as they were allowed to be in the audience. When the

performance started, he would be in charge of the door: privacy

guaranteed. It was a compromise I needed to make if Jo was to live out

her fantasy, and I trusted him. I hoped Marie agreed.

It

was barely nine by the time I got home. I recounted my discussion with

Tony and the understanding we had reached. Marie noticed my uncertain

expression. "It will be fine," she reassured me. "He's a decent man and

Gail's lovely too. We're regular customers; almost friends." She cuddled

up next to me on the sofa, her book discarded. "They get to see a free

sex show. What would it profit them to betray our trust by bragging

about it? Tony has worked hard to raise The Swan's reputation. In what

world would he consider trashing it?"

"That was my thinking too," I admitted. "I was just worried that perhaps I had been a bit naïve."

"No.

Remember, you offered Tony a solution to improve the marketability of

that tired old function room. He's not going to piss you off now, is

he."

I

accepted that she was almost certainly correct. Then a thought occurred

to me. "Earlier this evening, didn't you mention an early night?"

She grinned at me. "Indeed, you remember correctly. Shall we?"

And we did. Twice!

We woke early on Wednesday morning to a text from Kate.

Sam

and I are both mature enough to realize that the other has a sex life.

We are ok having sex in the same house. Not ok having sex in the same

room. Can you and Geoff live with that?

Marie replied straight back.

We have no interest in making you uncomfortable. We just want you to be happy. C u 2 nite

Less than a minute later, a smiley face emoji appeared. We had our guests for the evening.

By

now I some idea of the logistics for Jo's party. The nights were

drawing in and we'd have to have the curtains closed for privacy. I

wanted some atmospheric lighting and a couple of other items.

Tony

was going to have a group of tables pushed together in the center of

room, for the eleven women, with one to the side for Jo's birthday cake.

there were sufficient additional tables and chairs around the walls

that could be quickly rearranged for the additional guests. He agreed to

supply a solid but comfortable chair on the small stage just in case we

needed it.

For

the performance, I knew what I wanted, so I invited Marie out for a

trip to the garden center for a coffee. "I thought you were busy," she

argued.

"Two

birds, one stone," I replied. "Lighting and some set dressing. If I can

combine my shopping with spending time with you, then all the better."

"You're just saying that because I let you stick your willy in my special place last night," she giggled.

"And very nice it was too," I admitted. "Now, go and put some knickers on and I'll treat you to breakfast out."

We

got home around two that afternoon. I'd bought a couple of sets of low

voltage spotlights, some extra thick double sleeping pads (like yoga

mats) and a roll of gaffer tape. My plan was to install the lights on

Thursday afternoon, and play with the settings to create the closest

ambience that I could to my vision of a seedy Amsterdam sex-club.

I'd

also found something else that earned me a kiss and a smile from Marie

when I explained my reasoning. But that wasn't for Jo's party. "Who says

men can't multi-task," she observed, patting my cheek. "If there's

anything left in your tank tonight after our guests leave." She stood on

tip-toe to whisper in my ear, "You can have a free pass for anything

you want." I had to smile to myself. Even at our lowest point, my wife

had never refused me anything. Still, her offer was sincere and worth

considering.

It

was Marie's turn to cook tea that evening, so I decided to look for

some mood music. Good old YouTube. An entire channel of sensual lounge

music mixes. I picked one I liked within ten minutes. That reminded me. I

had a really good Bluetooth speaker somewhere. I'd just tracked it down

to the study, when Colin arrived with Mia.

She

looked at me rather nervously until Colin gave her an encouraging nod.

"Doctor Barnes," she began. "I told mum what you said about you not

being able to discuss sex with me. And she said she understood, and that

you were probably right to be cautious." She swallowed, glanced at my

grandson and carried on. "So I asked her to explain it to me, and she

did, and Colin and I, we compared notes on the way here from school and

we think we understand."

Colin

took pity on her and took over. "We understand that we are growing up

and our bodies will change. We understand that the way we see other

people will change, but you and Mia's mum were both very clear that

doing any sex stuff could end up making a baby and that would cause a

lot of hurt. We've promised each other not to let that happen and not to

listen to anyone who says it's okay if; and then they say something

stupid."

Mia

nodded in agreement. "Mum says that she wants me to get a degree and I

can't do that as a single mum. I wanted to say that I know you can't

tell me about sex but you can tell Colin." She reached out and held his

hand. "And Colin will tell me."

I

looked at the pair in admiration; still children but so mature. "I can

tell you this," I offered. "At some point, someone will offer you

drinks. Drunk people don't make wise choices. Decent men don't have sex

with drunk girls. But not all men are decent; drunk men especially so." I

watched to see if they followed my logic. I didn't want to tell them

not to drink. I wanted them to work out for themselves why they

shouldn't drink to excess.

"Thanks grandad," Colin said. "Is it okay if I ask, if we do think of something else we think need to know?"

"Of course," I replied. "My answer will have to be age appropriate but you can ask anything."

That

seemed to satisfy them both as Colin changed the subject. "We were

going to do our homework in here, but if you're busy we;”

"No. I just found what I was looking for. The study is all yours."

I

parked the party planning for now and decided to focus on our guests

that evening. Last time, Kate's needs were simple. Sex followed by a

cuddle. Sam was more; challenging. Her time as a paramedic, both in the

military and as a civilian, had been her vocation, but it came at a

cost. Some shifts she saw things, dealt with situations, that left her

struggling to cope. One solution she had found to work, temporarily at

least, had been to immerse herself in sensation. By overwhelming her

senses, touch, smell, hearing, she distracted her mind from fixating and

replaying experiences that distressed her. This gave her brain time to

reprocess and reset. So, at our first encounter, it was as if we had

sensation based sex therapy. I hoped that tonight would be just as

relaxing but less intense.

We

had more time with each partner that evening. Because mother and

daughter had made it clear that they, quite understandably, did not want

to have sex in the same room, Marie and I would be able to spend an

hour and a half with our partners before we exchanged rooms and

bed-mates. With Kate, that really made no difference; more sex, longer

cuddles, that's about it.

With

Sam, even if she hadn't had a rough shift, I had time to indulge her. I

had tried to imagine how that should look. Marie found me upstairs,

searching through the airing cupboard, looking for some old towels.

She raised an eyebrow. "For Sam?"

"I thought that special massage we discussed might be nice but messy," I ventured.

She stood, obviously giving my idea some serious thought. "Will there be a happy ending?" She asked with a mischievous smile.

"For both of us," I admitted. "That's the special bit."

"Do

not put the towels in the wash afterwards," she instructed me,

stressing the 'not' as she pulled two large white bath sheets from the

pile. "That sounds like something you should do for your wife too, just

for quality control purposes of course." She tried to look serious

That

sounded reasonable. "Okay. So can I prepare our bedroom now? Then you

can entertain Sam first in there while I'm with Kate in the Playroom.

After a break, you and I can swap rooms and everything I need to massage

you when they've left, will be there in our bedroom."

"Okay,"

she agreed. "I might choose some toys that Sam hasn't tried yet and put

them in our bedroom too." Our schedule approved, we set to.

We

had planned an early meal that afternoon. We let the kids have a light

snack because Linda was cooking them an evening meal later, when she

finished work. She knew we had 'guests' on Wednesday evenings.

Mia

watched Marie dip some chicken thighs in seasoned flour, egg and then

spiced panko breadcrumbs before lowering them into a pan to fry gently.

The potatoes, once boiled, drained and allowed to steam dry, were

drizzled with garlic butter, and the broccoli and green beans were

gently sautéed in a pan with olive oil and herbs.

"You make that look so simple," the girl commented.

"That's

because it is," Marie pointed out. "The hardest part is getting

everything ready to plate up at the same time; and that just comes with

practice." Mia looked unconvinced. "It also helps that we're both

retired. That means we can spend fifteen minutes getting everything

pre-prepared before Colin gets in from school then, whoever is actually

cooking the meal is really just making sure that nothing burns."

I

watched with interest, and not a little concern. Mia was quietly,

unassumingly, becoming one of the family. I hoped that Marie's scheme to

rehabilitate Wendy didn't backfire and damage the bonds that had

started to develop between them and us.

Marie

put our plates on the table. She left a third plate with tasters of the

chicken, veg and potato on the worktop for the kids to sample. They

both loved it, and I'm certain Mia memorized what she'd seen, in the

hope that she and her mum could cook it at home.

I

idly speculated that if we did a 'cookery class' on Tuesdays and moved

the 'language class' to Thursdays then, assuming that Lucy came dancing

on alternate Fridays, I could expect to be having sex with eight women a

week, not including Marie. I decided not to suggest it; or at least to

stick to actual food preparation rather than just sex.

"A penny for your thoughts, dear?" Marie prompted me.

"Pas devant les enfants," [not in front of the kids] I replied. Marie's the linguist but I do have a bit of French.

I

was a little taken aback when Mia grinned at Colin. "Oh, ça a l'air

intéressant." Bugger! The little minx speaks better French than I do.

My

wife watched fondly as I made a complete tit of myself in front of the

two teens. They waited for me to respond until, seeing that I knew when

to stop digging and shut up, they wandered back to the study, sniggering

as they went.

Marie

raised an eyebrow. I caved. "I was just thinking that we could do

cookery lessons for Wendy and Mia and then that morphed into 'cookery

class' for your friends. It was just an amusing thought," I finished

rather weakly.

"Good god man!" She retorted. "How much sex can you fit in to one week! Poor little Geoff would be worn to a nub."

This

time, it was my turn to give my wife a hard stare. And I'd learned from

the best. "Alright," she conceded. "Every woman in your bed has been

there because I invited them. You made your point. Now eat your tea."

There

was a bit of an atmosphere when Linda arrived around six that evening

to collect the kids. "You." She jerked her head at me. "Kitchen. Now."

I

know daughters shouldn't speak to parents like that, but she was

obviously upset, and I suspected I knew why. I was right. "I got a text

from mum today. Could I look after the kids on Friday instead of meeting

her in the pub. Something cropped up for dad." She glared at me. "Is

this another sex thing?"

"I

have to attend a function," I told her, truthfully but misleadingly.

"Someone I have admired for a long time is being rewarded for a lifetime

of selfless service. I need to be there to support them along with

their other friends." All perfectly true, but not actually what Linda

had asked, because it was, precisely in fact, another sex thing. I'd

tell her later. A week later, at least.

She

seemed mollified: she even apologized. I accepted graciously. "Look," I

said. "Even if this was 'another sex thing' as you put it. Honestly,

how much detail do you want about your parents' bedroom activities? I'll

tell you all about my morning yesterday if you insist, but I have no

idea how many bottles of prosecco you'd have to drink to blur the images

that could leave."

"Fuck no!" She begged. "Spare me that."

"So mind your manners, young lady and be careful what you wish for." I reverted to wronged parent mode. What a twat I was!

Marie

gave me a long thoughtful look after we had waved goodbye to the three

of them. "I'm beginning to wonder about unleashing your other side," she

mused. "She's going to be really angry if she finds out that the

function that you attending is the same one she isn't any more."

"In my defense, you didn't give me a lot of room to maneuver."

"I suppose not," she conceded. "Have you had your tablet yet?"

"Ten minutes ago. I'll go and get ready."

When

I came downstairs, Kate and Sam were already there, apparently

discussing the evening's running order. Sam seemed a lot more cheerful

this evening and Kate was, well, just Kate.

"Geoff,

the girls are happy with your suggestion so, if you and Kate want to

take the Playroom, Sam and I will join you in the kitchen at about eight

fifteen."

I

watched the mother and daughter as we said our farewells. Both seemed a

little uncomfortable knowing that the other was vividly aware of what

we were all about to do. By the time we reached our bedroom the tension

had passed.

"May we indulge in a little foreplay this week madam?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I was a bit eager last time, wasn't I?" She admitted, totally unrepentant.

"A

little," I agreed as I stood and admired her. Heavier in the hips and

waist than her friends, she was still a handsome woman. Full breasted,

shapely legs clad in tight jeans that showed her lovely round bum off

perfectly.

"Would

it be easier to undress ourselves?" She suggested. "Perhaps I was

foolish to wear these jeans but my bum's my only good feature so I

wanted to show it off." Her smile faded. "Indulge me please, Geoff. I'm

just a plump old woman who's trying to pretend she's still sexy."

I

couldn't have stopped myself if I'd tried. In two steps my arms were

around her pulling her to me. I could feel the pressure of her tits

against my chest as I hugged her. It may seem odd, but sometimes I

realize what a tactile desert we inhabit, some of us at least, as we

age. I had probably experienced more physical contact (excluding my

wife) in the previous two months than in the whole two years before.

"Kate.

You are sexy. Not only that but you are sweet, beautiful and a delight

to be with." I put my hands on her shoulders and held her at arm's

length. "If you are suggesting that I am somehow doing this as a favor

to Marie: then no, you are wrong; I enjoy your company and your body.

Kate. I like just being with you. Being lucky enough to make love to you

as well. I can't begin to describe it."

I

drew her in to my arms again and then released her enough to kiss her.

The first two kisses were hesitant on her part, as if she was testing my

sincerity. If it were a test, I must have passed because the kisses

that followed seemed to increase almost exponentially in passion. By the

time we came up to breathe she could have been in no doubt how aroused I

was, given that she had been pressing her belly onto my erect cock.

"Stop

fucking about feeling sorry for yourself," I scolded her. "And get your

bloody clothes off." She finally realized that the lust she saw in my

eyes was real. That whatever flaws she had or imagined she had, the fact

was that I still wanted her.

We

undressed ourselves and stood naked together for only the second time.

Me, broad shouldered, flat but not ripped belly, cock standing proud and

ready for action; Kate, full busted, nipples pointing slightly down and

womanly hips and thighs. I understood her unease but it annoyed me. It

was impossible for all women to be flawless, and what constituted a flaw

was subjective in any case. Kate was tormented by these feelings of

inadequacy because her belly wasn't toned, her thighs weren't tight and

silky and her tits weren't pointing at the sky. Nor were many others,

once they'd passed their thirties.

None

of that mattered to me. Kate was all woman and adorable with it. Over

the next thirty minutes I showed her again just how appealing she was. I

had spent twenty minutes just pleasuring her with my fingers and

tongue. Breasts first, then puss. She was already on the brink by the

time that I first ran my tongue from back to front. She clenched and

lifted her hips in ecstasy within two minutes. She did it twice more, at

five minute intervals.

By

the time that I actually slid inside her, all her self-doubt was gone,

for now at least. She was a hot and horny woman who needed nothing more

than a good stiff cock. I did my utmost to oblige. She felt amazing as

she engulfed me, warm and moist, her cunt stretching to encompass me.

The sensation in my cock as her rippled walls accepted me was

fascinating. These women, all different builds, each felt so right.

Perhaps I'm just shallow, but big tits, small tits, tall or petite, if

I'm with a woman I like, then her allowing me the privilege of intruding

inside her body is the ultimate gift.

For

five minutes or so, we savored each other, gently moving, enjoying the

caress of lubricated skin on skin. Eventually, however, the feeling of

urgency built and our languorous movements became harder, faster,

deeper. "Please Geoff, not yet, just one more minute. Please."

I

wasn't close yet. I hoped that I could take her over the top just one

more time before my own climax arrived. By now, neither of us had the

breath or state of mind to form a coherent sentence and we communicate

with grunts and isolate words. "Yes!" She'd pant. "Just there; Harder;”

I

had nothing to contribute verbally but the sheer animalistic nature of

those last few minutes led me to grunt involuntarily as I tried to bury

myself deep inside her body. We clutched each other as our hips pounded

together, the root of my cock smacking into her clit with each thrust.

She

gazed into my eyes for that last minute or so, pleading with me, I

assumed, not to let her down. I didn't, but nor could I keep going once

her orgasm hit. The way her internal muscles clamped down on me was just

a step too far. I carried on for as long as I could but I never stood a

chance. I felt my cock pulse four, perhaps five times and I was spent.

I

lowered myself gently on top of her. She looped her hands around my

neck and sighed softly. After a couple of minutes, I rolled to the side

and she turned away from me, pushing her bum towards me. I knew that she

loved to be cuddled as she came down from her climax so I shuffled up

behind her with my hand cupping her tit. "Mmmm," she purred, wriggling

her tush further into me.

Given

that she had lived alone for several years, until Sam had recently

moved back home, Kate seemed to relish the contact of another human

body. I was only too happy to be that body. I think she even dozed for a

while. I lay, content just to hold her against me until she stirred,

some twenty minutes later.

She turned to face me. "Well, that was nice," she grinned at me.

I leaned forward to kiss her. "It was, and thank you."

She seemed surprised. "What?"

I

explained. "I'm not a sex worker. When I have sex with you or one of

the others, it's not because I'm being paid, or even because I'm doing a

favor for Marie." I kissed her again. Well, I felt like it. "Marie had

to persuade me that my;” I sought an appropriate word. "My promiscuity

would not damage our marriage. But I was never reluctant because you or

the others weren't attractive. So, I enjoyed what we just did every bit

as much as you seemed to."

"Even me?" She sought reassurance.

"Fucking

Hell, Kate!" I was getting exasperated. "You were a bloody detective.

Do you really think I'm that good at faking my feelings? Seriously?"

She

studied me as she digested what I'd said. "I'm sorry, Geoff," she

whispered, touching my face. "Do the other girls treat you like a whore,

or is it just me?"

"You're

missing the point, Kate," I told her, frustrated. "The issue isn't my

feelings; it's your conviction that you are unattractive. What the fuck

do I have to do to convince you that it isn't true?"

"Show me again," she suggested, her face lighting up with mischief. Now, that I could do.

This time she used her mouth on me, bringing my nascent erection to completion. "I want to be inside you again," I told her.

She

resisted at first, tormenting me with her tongue. Finally, she relented

and straddled me, raising up to put me inside her. She paused to

examine my smug expression. "You meant it," she finally acknowledged.

"My cock is inside a lovely naked lady and I have both hands free to play with your boobs. What part of that isn't great?"

"Do you want to see them really bounce?" She asked, impishly.

I replied using her own words. "Show me."

I

probably lasted less than ten minutes that time, so determined was she

to repay whatever debt she thought she owed. I think she came, but I had

been told by Angie that sometimes a woman just wants to please her

lover and constantly being asked if she'd come, made the man sound needy

and unappreciative. Trust me; I wasn't!

Kate

left me to bathe in my warm post-orgasmic glow while she used the

bathroom. As she returned to our bed, I took the opportunity to check

the time.

"How would you feel," I asked her, "about letting me taste you one last time tonight?"

"You don't have to," she replied.

"But if I wanted to?" I left the question open.

She pretended to consider. "Well, if you really wanted to, I suppose it would be ungracious to refuse."

I

smiled to myself. Kate was an amazing and responsive lover. Making her

come was a joy in itself. Fifteen minutes later I had to stop the joy so

we both had time to recover.

We

were first into the kitchen so I filled the kettle while Kate busied

herself with the cups. I was just getting the biscuits from the cupboard

when Marie and Sam joined us, both still flushed from their activities I

looked at my wife's contented expression. Lesbian infidelity suited

her. Was I jealous? Not at all. Sam hadn't stolen my wife any more than

Kate had stolen me.

I kissed Marie. "You seem to have enjoyed yourself."

She

seemed concerned for a moment; perhaps she thought that I was being

passive aggressive; but looking at me she seemed to realize that I was

being sincere so she relaxed.

"Make

the drinks, sweetheart," I asked. "I have some preparations to make."

So saying, I kissed her cheek and went upstairs. I was back in the

kitchen within five minutes and I hugged Marie from behind. She wiggled

her bum into my groin affectionately.

She

pointed to my cup on the table, next to the Chocolate HobNobs. That's

another reason I love her. I reluctantly let go of her and picked up my

cup.

"Marie

was telling us about your plans for Jo's birthday," Kate began. Turning

to her daughter, she continued. "I'd never watched two people having

sex right in front of me before. And Jo was so turned on." She directed

her gaze back to me. "Are you sure she'll go through with it though?

Marie says that you've invited a few people Jo doesn't know. I

understand why; it would be an even bigger thrill for her in front of

strangers. But what if she just can't do it? She'll feel as though she's

let you down. That's a lot of pressure."

I'd

already considered that. "Are you familiar with Angie and Lucy's

relationships with me?" I asked her, dunking my biscuit into my tea.

"Yes,

but what has that got to do?" Her jaw dropped as she realized what I

was implying. "You fucking maniac. You wouldn't. You'd have sex with

them instead?" She looked to my wife for reassurance that even I had

limits.

She

was to be disappointed. "Oh, he certainly would," she admitted

cheerfully. "And what's more those two tarts of his would love it. Angie

just because she wants him to push her boundaries, and Lucy because she

wants him to push his own boundaries. I suppose that I could stop them

if I put my foot down. Well, probably," she added, with a smidgin of

uncertainty.

I

took a sip of my drink. Then I answered Kate; "I'm confident that Jo

will see this as an unrepeatable opportunity to fulfil her dream. But we

have a Plan B just in case. There are some practical issues to address

that you could help me with though." The girls (their own chosen

nomenclature) listened carefully as I explained.

"We'll go shopping tomorrow," Kate assured me. "We were struggling to decide what to get for her birthday anyway."

"Angie,

Geoff and I are giving a joint gift," Marie told them. "It would be

quite expensive just from me and we don't want to start escalating how

much we spend on each other, do we?"

Kate

agreed. She wasn't going to starve on her police pension, but she

didn't have money to burn. "Any idea what Lucy's getting for Jo?" She

asked.

"None at all, I'm afraid," my wife confessed. "She just says to wait and see."

I

finished my drink and pointed to the kitchen clock. "Sam, if you

please." I held my hand out to her and pulled her gently to me for an

innocent kiss. "Kate, Marie, we'll see you in a little while." And I led

my svelte, blonde paramedic back to the main bedroom.

She

gasped as I opened the door. The room was lit exclusively by

candle-light; the flickering warmth of their flame enhancing the musky

aroma of the scented oils in the wax melts. I'd chosen a specific mix at

the garden center with Marie. Cinnamon, ylang ylang and jasmine. It was

a warm sensual blend that I wanted to be unique to us. There was more

too.

"Take

off your robe and lay face down on the bed," I instructed her. She

pulled back the duvet. When I came up to light the candles, I'd been

surprised to see that Marie had replaced my beach towel with a soft

throw. It was much nice than the towel so I was content to leave it. I

reached for the bottle of massage oil that I'd had prepared. It had my

three scents mixed in the same proportions.

"Just

relax," I told a bemused Sam. "This isn't about sex, it's about

sensation. Though there may be a bit of sex too," I added as an

afterthought. She giggled into the pillow.

Stripping

off, I sat on the bed and took her left foot, kissing it and then

beginning to massage the oil into her skin, one gorgeous little toe at a

time. It took me five minutes to work my way to her knee and then I

started on her right foot fifteen minutes later, I was astride her

thighs gently massaging the cleft between her glorious bum cheeks. She

squealed in surprise as my well-oiled finger slipped easily into her

anus. She didn't protest though, just snuggling back down with a

contented sigh. One that was repeated as I moved higher and began to

massage her buttocks themselves.

As

I moved higher, my cock rubbed tantalizingly into the recently

lubricated crevice. She stiffened slightly, probably suspicious of my

intentions. She was correct, to an extent, though it was her cunt that I

invaded, for now at least.

As

I worked the tension out of the muscles of Sam's back and shoulders, I

used my body to provide the motion, rather than my arms, thus fucking

her at the same languid pace as my massage. It was my intention to be

erotic rather than exhilarating, to begin with.

When

I was content that her back was thoroughly attended to, I had her turn

over and began again. An hour after we entered the bedroom I was again

slowly fucking her, only now I was massaging her tits as I did so. The

combination of my slicked fingers on her nipples and my slicked cock in

her cunt brought her to a beautifully gentle climax, similar to Lucy's.

There was no writhing or screaming just a wave of shudders washing over

her followed by a deep sigh of contentment.

I

moved to the top of the bed and got Sam to lay against me as I

continued my massage on her arms. The combination of her orgasm and the

continued tactile sensation had her head dropping as she began to slip

into sleep.

"Relax,

child," I whispered. "I'm here. You are safe and warm and loved. Just

relax in my arms. Are you at peace here?" I asked her, speaking very

softly.

"So nice," she mumbled, taking a deep breath that did fascinating things to her boobs.

"Remember

this feeling, my voice, the scent of this room. Remember how relaxed

and content you are. Breathe in and smell this fragrance. I created it

just for you. When you smell it you can use that scent to lead you here.

Your safe place; your quiet place. Even if it's just five minutes, you

can re-center yourself; regain your calm and deal with your feeling."

" Kay, Geoff Can do that," she slurred. "So sleepy though. So.;” And she drifted off.

I

managed to pull the quilt over us without disturbing her. It wasn't

cold in the room but I wanted her to feel swaddled, loved. We lay like

that for quarter of an hour or so before she stirred. She snuggled into

me. "That might have been the nicest sex I've ever had. Not the

sweatiest, or the biggest orgasm but just; lovely." She checked my

expression to see if she'd offended me. Relieved, she smiled. "Even now,

I feel as though I'm floating." She turned and hugged me. Then after a

long tender kiss asked, "Did you try to hypnotize me? I remember what

you said, so it can't have worked. Pity really." She shrugged her

shoulders in resignation. "It would have been nice."

We

lay like that for a while longer, just reveling in the contact of our

bodies, before taking a shower together to take off the remaining oils

from her skin: I didn't want her clothes ruining when she dressed to go

home. We were getting dried when she realized. "You didn't come!" She

gasped. "Oh God! I'm So sorry; I never thought."

"Hush

now sweetheart," I consoled her. "Marie has her own plans for me

tonight. Anyway," I laughed to myself. "Most men would give a testicle

to have touched you the way that I have tonight. I'm more than content."

She

seemed to accept my word and we went downstairs together. Marie and

Kate were just opening a bottle of wine when we joined them, Sam

accepting half a glass before sitting next to me on the sofa, leaning

her head on my shoulder. Kate looked at her daughter, intrigued.

"Pleasant evening, love?" She asked.

"So

nice," Sam replied. "I can't actually describe how I feel." She gave me

a wry smile. "Angie told us about her happy place. Geoff even tried to

do the same for me but it didn't take."

Marie looked at me with concern. I shook my head. "Go on," I said. "The box is on the table."

She

reached forward to pick up a small square box, the sort rings and such

come in. She passed it to Sam. Sam looked at me for guidance. "Open it,"

I told her. It was a slender silver chain with a locket. Pretty enough

but nothing spectacular. I reached round and helped her to fasten it

around her neck.

"Thank you?" She said. Not understanding yet the nature of the gift and why she got one, yet her mum didn't.

"Open

the locket, dear," Marie suggested as Kate looked on, quietly

fascinated by the exchange. Sam obediently opened the locket and gasped

in surprise as she released the signature scent that we'd created for

her. She shut her eyes. "I'm there," she breathed. "The memory. So

intense; so real."

Marie

explained to Kate while I accepted a weepy, happy embrace from Sam.

"Geoff gave Sam a special sexy massage with scented oils. We had the

same scent combination filling our bedroom for her tonight." Kate nodded

in understanding as Marie continued. "We've put a wax with that scent

inside her locket. If she's feeling overwhelmed then, when she can find a

moment alone, hopefully just being able to open the charm and

experience that unique blend will trigger the memory of being warm and

safe and loved."

"Thank you; both of you," Sam sniffled gratefully.

"This

isn't a cure, Sam," I warned her. "I'm not a therapist. I'm just

someone who cares, doing whatever I can to help you keep it together

until you accept that you need to speak to a professional."

She

glanced at her mother; this was obviously not the first conversation

along these lines. "What about you Marie?" Sam asked. "Am I being

foolish?"

My

wife shook her head. "Not foolish," she decided. "But perhaps ill

judged. You need help. Your mum, us, the rest of your friends, we're all

here for you but we're just well-meaning amateurs. We wouldn't be

anyone's first choice to deal with a physical injury. Nor should we be

for emotional wounds."

Sam

sighed. "I just feel so weak and selfish taking valuable time from

those who need it more." She saw the expression on my face, and Marie's

and Kate's. She huffed in resignation. "All right, I'll start looking

tomorrow. There's an occupational health advisor at work. I'll speak to

her as soon as I can."

The

evening wound down. We laughed as Kate and Marie shared curated stories

about their friends until, the wine finished, they kissed us both

goodbye.

As

we walked back inside after waving them off, we shared our relief that

mother and daughter had been able to relax and enjoy our evening. I

caught my wife yawning. "Let's leave the washing up and go straight to

bed," I suggested. I nodded at her chest, "Those boobs aren't going to

massage themselves."

The Live Sex Show.

It

was the Thursday morning after Kate and her daughter, Sam, had visited

us for their language class the previous evening. You will recall that

is our euphemism for having sex with my wife's closest friends as well

as a couple of waifs and strays we've collected along the way.

We

slept late that morning. I had given Marie the same full, scented,

sensual massage as Sam but, this time round, I had managed to sneak in a

couple of orgasms for myself too. We were both very relaxed as we

snuggled together that Thursday.

"Any plans today, love?" Marie yawned as she tried to motivate herself to leave our nice warm bed.

"That depends," I replied. She raised a very expressive eyebrow in unspoken enquiry.

I

explained my thinking. "I owe Angie a treat. It isn't something you'd

enjoy participating in, so I thought that I might indulge her while you

are at work and then you and she could have tonight together." I watched

as she processed my suggestion.

"You know that you don't need my permission to spend time with Angie," she reminded me.

"I know. It just seems like the right thing to do," I said, a little defensively.

"Well,

in that case, I had planned to be at the shop from twelve until four;

as long as you can be all done by the time Colin gets home, ask Angie if

she's free today."

"That was what I was thinking," I admitted. "Shall I ring her?"

"I think she'd appreciate that," Marie smiled. "Remember to ask if she has everything she needs in her room here."

I

agreed, and we both went about the business of starting our day and,

though I say so myself, Marie seemed to glow with health after my

massage.

As

it turned out, Angie had nothing in particular planned for a few days

and her response when I suggested that I was considering giving her a

'treat' that afternoon was enthusiastic to say the least.

Marie

smirked when I told her over breakfast. "You know it isn't my thing,

Geoff, but make it good for her." She gave me a sexy grin. "I'm sure

that she'll tell me all about it tonight."

After

we had tidied the kitchen, I collected my toolbox and drove to the pub.

I'd booked the function room for a very private party but it needed

some work on the ambience. Tony, the landlord, let me in and we checked

out the room together. We tried the lighting sets, temporarily taping

them to the ceiling. They were dim but moody. One set was pointing at

the walls, giving the drab white emulsion a dappled blue effect; the

other set illuminated the small raised stage in different shades of red.

Together the directed and reflected light created interesting shadows.

Eventually, we had them placed so that the effect was fine for

atmosphere, but we still lacked something for the main performers.

Tony

looked thoughtful for a moment, excused himself and left. While he was

gone, I screwed our spots in place and tidied up the wiring. Tony

returned five minutes later with a box of light-bulbs. "When you do your

own basic maintenance, you need a fairly comprehensive stockpile of

consumables," he grumbled, searching through the box, discarding a

couple of false starts on the grounds they had the wrong fittings, until

he produced a halogen spot that he thought might fit.

I

held a chair as he clambered up to replace the mundane bulb that was

already in the fitting above the stage. While there, he reached out and

removed the bulbs in the adjacent fittings; both on the same circuit.

He

climbed down and turned off the original lights. My colored lights on

their own illuminated the room but, when he turned on the halogen above

the stage area where I stood, he assured me that I was clearly the star

of the show. We exchanged places and I had to agree. We turned off the

mood lighting and the room returned to its clean but sad former self.

"If

that was a preview of the impact of improving the lighting in this

dump, then installing an update is long overdue," Tony commented as we

made our way downstairs.

Reluctantly

declining his offer of a pint on the house, I left for home, arriving

just as my wife was about to leave. "Angie's upstairs putting some

things in her room," she told me. "She seems so thrilled that she has

her own space here." Marie gave me a quick peck on the lips. "That will

have to do for now," she apologized. "Angie will make it up to you, I'm

sure. Just be certain that you're both decent when Colin gets in." And

with that warning, she was gone.

Angie

found me in the kitchen five minutes later and greeted me with an

ardent kiss. "Early lunch?" I managed to ask, once I'd got my breath

back.

"Must

we?" She scowled, obviously impatient to begin. I gave her one of the

looks (number six; feigned annoyance) from my new repertoire and she

reluctantly helped me to put together a light salad together with some

blue Wensleydale cheese. We sat and nattered comfortably as we ate. We

discussed our upcoming wedding, Wendy, Jane and, of course, Jo's party.

As

we cleared the table, Angie stopped to give me a hug. I returned it

happily enough but she saw the question in my look. "It was my way of

saying, 'Thank you'," she explained. "Outside of this house or when I'm

with the girls, I feel as though I always have to be alert for threats.

Even with my husbands, I always seemed to be analyzing the things that

they did and said, to see if they were pursuing their own agendas." She

hugged me again. "With you and the girls, I can relax. If I'm being an

annoying cow, you'll tell me, and that's fine. But I know that you won't

try to manipulate me."

Again,

she saw my expression of faux amazement. "I'm not blind to the irony in

what I just said," she protested as she put the cutlery away. "I

realize that I submit to you precisely so that you can manipulate me,

but that is consensual. You aren't trying to cheat me or win some game

that I don't even know that I'm playing."

To

be fair, I did understand. Angie was surprisingly wealthy. An

unscrupulous person might try to exploit her for her money; we never

would, and she knew that, deep in her bones. I held out my hand. "Come

on gorgeous, let's go play in your bedroom."

To

say that she was excited would be a massive understatement; she was

almost vibrating in anticipation. I'd given her treat some thought. Lucy

had described my torture-by-orgasm over breakfast the morning after. I

didn't want to be too predictable so my plan was, perversely enough,

exactly the opposite.

"Naked

on the bed please," I suggested. I got a questioning look as she

complied. "No," I corrected her assumption. "This treat is for Angie to

experience. Angela only gets to do my bidding."

I

think she understood. Anyway, she shivered in eagerness as I bound her

wrists together and lashed them to the bed head. She watched carefully

as I used my most recent project, a home-made spreader bar, between her

ankles to separate her legs.

Now

she was generally immobilized. She lay helpless as I fetched the toy

that I intended to employ that afternoon. First of all, I approached the

bed moving the wand vibrator menacingly in front of me. She smirked in

anticipation. I smiled to myself; she was in for a surprise.

I

began, much as I had with Lucy, at her tits; over, around and under,

stopping only briefly at her nipples at first. As the stimulation

progressed, I paid more attention to her ever more erect nubs. Her

breathing got heavier, her body twitching as her excitement built,

until; I stopped.

She

gaped at me; I smiled and left her for five minutes while I went for a

pee and returned to a tirade of abuse. Good! She wanted new experiences,

I was sure that she'd never done this before. This time, without

responding, I used the vibrator between her thighs. She was already

aroused so it took less time to reach the edge of the orgasmic cliff

when, again, I pulled the toy away. She watched, furious, as I walked to

the chair, undressed and sat, naked, grinning at her frustration.

I

kept up the cycle, bringing her close to orgasm and then stopping, for

nearly an hour. By then she, like Lucy, had moved through bemusement to

frustration to rage to begging for release. The final time, she watched,

hopefully, as I approached.

"Geoff,

for pity's sake," she pleaded. Again, I used the wand against her labia

and clit, only this time, when she got close, I knelt between her legs

and slid inside her.

"Oh

my God!" She groaned as I filled her. Those were the last coherent

words she spoke as I railed her enthusiastically for the next five

minutes or so. Her orgasm or orgasms, I couldn't tell, seemed to run on

for all of the last three minutes. In my mind, I envisaged a queue of

orgasms, like buses released from a red light which suddenly turned to

green, all then finally arriving at their appointed destination, one

after the other.

I

wasn't complaining either. I found Angie to be an attractive woman

still. In the course of entertaining her that afternoon, I had access to

her naked restrained body to do with as I wished. Our climactic sex to

release her denied orgasm was almost as intense for me.

I

untied her bonds and she responded by instinctively curling into an

almost fetal position, with her back to me. I lay down behind her and

she burrowed closer. I put my hand on her hip and she protested, reached

down and pulled it to her tit. She sighed in satisfaction and fell

asleep. My phone was on the bedside table, in one of those nifty little

wooden stands from Ikea, and I saw we had plenty of time before Colin

was due home. I relaxed and let my eyes close; I had already set an

alarm for 14:30, there was time to enjoy a moment of intimacy, rather

than just sex, with my wife to be.

I

woke about ten minutes before the alarm was due and savored the

sensation. I was sexually sated, warm, comfortable, had a naked woman in

my bed and a boob in my hand. What's more, even if my wife had barged

into the room and found us like that, she'd just have undressed and

joined us.

Eventually, the alarm went off and Angie stirred. "Geoff," she mumbled, sleepily.

"Yes, love?" I replied.

"I know Marie has misgiving about, you know, restraints and stuff but, fuck, you have to show her that."

I

kissed her shoulder. "She is expecting a detailed report after tea," I

laughed. "Possibly with marks for imagination and effort. We'll see if

that piques her interest."

"It

was different," she conceded. "I'll confess that if my hands had been

free, I would have cheerfully killed you towards the end."

"This

my concern," I admitted. "You and Lucy in particular seem to want to

push me further and further. What happens if we go too far? If someone

gets hurt, physically or emotionally? Is it possible that we'll get so

jaded that just making love isn't enough? Might we do something that

damages our relationship?"

She

patted the hand still holding her tit. "No!" She said, emphatically.

"You wouldn't do anything like that; we wouldn't ask you to and Marie

wouldn't let it happen." She paused and sniffed. "God! But I need a

shower. Let go of my tit so I can go to the bathroom."

I

did and, as I watched her slender bum as she left the bed, she called

over her shoulder, "Would you strip the bed for me, please. I'll get

that sheet in the wash before Colin gets in." She paused. "I'll open the

window too, once we're dressed. It stinks of sex in here."

To be continued in part 15. Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts, for Literotica.