Geoff and Marie’s Good Life: Part 3Busy WeekCan a retired couple's plan for sharing hubby work?

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

List of main characters.

Geoff: 

 retired materials scientist. Mid-sixties. 5 foot 10 inch, ex amateur

rugby player, still swims, runs and walks to keep fit. More than

adequately equipped to satisfy his wife.

Marie: 

 retired modern languages lecturer. Same age as her husband, Geoff. 5

foot 2 inch voluptuous build, with D cup tits and proportionate bum and

hips. Shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes and olive skin inherited

from her French grandmother.

Angie: 

 possibly retired mathematician (may still be involved in intelligence

gathering, she won't discuss her work). Early sixties. 5 foot 10 inch,

slender athletic build. Firm B cup tits, brown hair and famously dirty

mind.

Mike:   research biochemist. Mid-fifties. 6 foot 1 inch, also rugby player. Good looking for his age.

After

they had left I wandered into the living room and started scrolling

through the TV guide. Marie eventually joined me. I acknowledged her,

but didn't speak. I got a feeling that any comment, at all, from me

would be dissected, analyzed and found wanting.

"Say something then," she snapped.

"Okay," I replied. "Which would you rather watch, The News or House Of Games?"

"You know what I meant," she almost snarled.

"Do

you know?" I responded. "I don't think that I do. I was willing to join

a trial of a brand new drug, that I only need because you have this

insane idea that my cock is the sexual equivalent of a charitable food

bank: But do I get any thanks? Do I fuck! I just get attitude.

"I

asked Mike out for a drink to get his opinion on vitamins and

supplements to help a man in his sixties have better sex. He offered the

trial place. You and Angie were both too drunk to talk sense to on the

way home and we spent the rest of the time until you left this morning

playing sex games with your mate or asleep.

"So,

if my little Mediterranean princess isn't happy, the answer is simple.

You ring Angie and tell her this weekend was a one-off and will never

happen again. I will ring Craig and tell him I won't need his fucking

drug after all, and the girls will have to find their own source of

cock: Because you're having a tantrum.

"Now,

I'm off to the pub. At least people will talk to me in a civil tone of

voice there. Good job we made the bed in the spare room. I assume that's

where I'll be sleeping for the foreseeable future. Enjoy the rest of

your evening."

And I left.

I

spent a couple of hours at the pub, though I only had two pints. I

wasn't there to get hammered, just to calm down. The problem Marie and I

have is reflected in our fields of study. She is about language; she

can translate complex emotions by choosing the right words so that the

true meanings are transferred between folks with no common tongue. I

admire that. But sometimes she thinks that words can tell you

everything.

I

am a scientist; I don't trust just words to tell me what I need to

know; people have their own agendas: They use words to aggrandize

themselves or for mischief, profit or power. I need data; evidence.

Marie's

concerns about new drugs were valid in part, but had been blown up by

half-truths and downright lies on the internet. I had gone to a

biochemist who actually understood the science and was familiar with the

data and I asked for his advice. How did that work out for me? I was

sat on my own in the pub while my wife was at home hating me.

I

looked at my watch. Half past eight. Honestly, I couldn't face another

pint so I strolled home. I took out my key and opened the door; at least

she hadn't changed the locks. I resisted the temptation to call out,

"Hi, honey. I'm home." Probably too soon for that. I settled for, "It's

only me."

No

reply, but there was a light on in the living room so I looked in.

Marie was kneeling on the floor in the center of the room, hands in her

lap, facing the door. When I moved forwards to see what was going on,

she bent her head as if in prayer. What the fuck?

"I'm

sorry," she said quietly, straightening up. "I'm not going to ask you

to spank me the way you did Angie yesterday, that was a game. This is

too serious."

She

looked angry, but at herself. "I have spent decades of my life

campaigning for women's right to control their own bodies and

reproductive choices. But the first time I am confronted by you, a man,

making a similar choice, I abuse you. If nothing else, that was total

hypocrisy. Again, I'm so sorry.

"You

have been nothing but supportive of my wish to make my friends happy,

even though you've had your own concerns. I know the thought of having

other women in your bed must have intrigued you, but you've always been

more worried about damaging our marriage and resisted all the way.

"I

am genuinely worried that this drug may damage you somehow but, if you

give your word that you have considered the risks, I will leave the

decision with you. Can you accept my apology?"

I

held out my hand and helped her to her feet. "Thank you. That was the

most sincere apology I've ever heard. Of course, I accept. But why did

you decide to make it like that? On your knees?"

She

thought before she replied. "When we were playing submissive spanky

games with Angie, I didn't; engage with it the way she did, but I did

feel different. I had chosen to give control to you because I trust you

and I was; content.

"I

was a bitch to you this afternoon, when you didn't deserve it so I

decided to show you how much I regretted it. I decided to kneel in front

of you to show the same respect today. I trust you. I should have

trusted your decision. I needed you to see, as well as hear the words,

how sorry I am."

She

looked carefully at me. "Tomorrow morning we either do or do not make

those telephone calls. I've forfeited the right to choose," she said.

"Do you want me to call Angie?"

Honestly,

I wasn't sure. Was this just the first of many arguments that we could

avoid by just ditching the whole dumb idea? She looked stricken when I

didn't respond straight away, but she said nothing as I weighed up the

risks. I was balancing my marriage, my wife's happiness and my health

against unknown outcomes. Even Angie admitted that her super-brain

couldn't predict what would happen if we went ahead.

I

took a deep breath. "Fuck it! Let's just do it. I love you and if I get

to fuck four, five or even all six of your friends to make you happy,

I'd be insane not to. You must understand, though. If my enthusiasm for

having sex with your friends starts to make you doubt my love for you,

you have to tell me and we have to stop.

"In

return, if I think that you are becoming emotionally over-attached to

one or more of the women you are fucking. We stop. Are we agreed?"

She

stepped up and put her arms around me. "Agreed. Now, do you want to

come upstairs and let me give you a more; intimate apology? I seem to

remember that you were rejected twice this morning. That doesn't seem

fair. As you aren't going to be in the spare bed tonight after all, I

could practice those oral sex techniques that Angie showed me on you."

As

we made our way upstairs I told Marie that I needed the bathroom before

we did anything else and Marie asked if I had ever considered

'water-sports'. For a confused moment I puzzled over why we were

suddenly discussing paddle-boarding as a prelude to sex. Then I got the

reference.

"Where

the fuck did that come from?" I asked, stunned. After all, she'd never

seen anything dirtier than Game Of Thrones until last month.

"You

showed me how to access porn safely on the internet and I've found

sites that describe and show people using piss in sex games," she

replied airily. "If you have a bladder full of beer and you want to try,

then I'm willing to submit as part of my atonement."

"But do you find that arousing?" I asked.

She

was silent while she thought carefully. "I didn't at the time, but now I

wonder if I might like to try one day. Maybe not now, unless you want

to."

"No.

Not today." I said, "This gorgeous brunette with big boobs has promised

me a blow-job to remember. Let's revisit this conversation another

day."

In

the bathroom I unloaded my two pints of craft beer down the toilet

bowl, rather than over my wife, then, after giving little (not that

little) Geoffrey a good shake and a wash, I went to the bedroom, to find

Marie sitting naked on our bed. She gestured for me to go to her and it

seemed rude not to, so I did.

She smiled at me as she started to unbuckle my belt. "Do you enjoy it when your wife wants only to submit and to pleasure you?"

"To

be honest," I replied. "It's pretty much freaking me out." She looked

at me quizzically. "Well," I said, a bit defensively, "It's not

something I'm used to, I don't understand the boundaries and I know it

isn't a role that particularly turns you on."

By

now she had my trousers unfastened and had them and my underwear around

my ankles. I stepped out and pulled my polo shirt off. We were both

naked and little Geoff was getting bigger.

"I understand," she said. "Games later; sex now." She started by licking my shaft from base to tip.

Now,

Marie has never shied away from sucking my cock, and I had never had

anyone better to use as a comparison, until Angie the previous morning.

Angie has always been hugely competitive so, when it came to oral sex,

she had to be the best; and she was; she was Olympic standard.

Fortunately she was also a generous friend who gave my wife a

master-class (mistress-class?) only twenty four hours ago.

Marie

was a quick learner. Rather than going straight down on me, as I would

have been delighted with previously, now she tormented me; licking along

my length; vacuuming my balls into her mouth and molding them with her

tongue. Eventually, when I was about to burst with exquisite

frustration, she took me in her mouth and massaged my bulb with her

tongue. Then she, literally, swallowed me. Her nose was pressed up

against my belly and my balls were on her chin. Where the fuck my cock

was, I truly could not imagine. But it felt fucking amazing.

It

felt good but, on the other hand, it sounded awful; all I could hear

was her choking and gagging as she worked me back and forth into her

throat but I couldn't pull away: she wouldn't let go of me. At last she

slackened her hold on my hips and I pulled out of her mouth. Covered in

pints of drool.

She

looked up at me, almost shyly, as if seeking approval. I wasn't going

to make her ask. "That was fucking amazing. Now I want to taste you."

Some

people think that this is such a cliché: Woman sucks man, man sucks

woman, then they fuck. If I had put my cock into Marie at that moment, I

would have come before I was halfway in. So not only was I giving my

wife pleasure, and I love going down on her anyway, but I was giving

myself a moment to recover in order to extend our love-making.

Normally

I would have laid between her thighs to kiss her cunt, but we seemed to

be pushing boundaries of late, so I got her to roll onto her belly with

her bum raised. If you have never gone down on your woman like this, do

it at least once if only for the view. My view was spectacular. My

wife's glorious round ass with her truly adorable vulva peeking between

her cheeks. It gave me an almost spiritual joy to behold.

I

started with her labia, acknowledging her clit but not over-stimulating

it, and then moving to her anus. We've never really played bottom games

before, but Marie's fascination tonight with; unconventional sex

prompted me to experiment. Tonight I truly focused my oral attention on

that little sphincter though my hands were permanently up to mischief

elsewhere. Once I was satisfied she was happy with my efforts, I

straightened up and rubbed my cock at her front door.

"About fucking time," she gasped. "I was going to start without you."

"Oh,

be quiet you randy old tart," I replied cheerfully as I slid completely

into her. "If you're just going to complain, I won't do this."

So saying I pushed my index finger, already well lubricated courtesy of Marie's cunt, into her tight little bum hole.

She

squealed with a mixture of horror and delight as my digit slipped

easily into that place where the sun truly don't shine. At this point I

was wishing that her hair was long enough for a pony tail for me to pull

on, not just because that seemed to be a common trope in anal sex porn,

but because I only had one hand left to pull her onto my cock and,

honestly, I thought using the finger up her ass to do it seemed; crude.

On

the up side though, because we weren't actually 'doggy-style', I was

fucking my wife down into the pillow so I consoled myself by just

putting my spare hand on her bum, more to support me than anything else.

So

there we were, Marie with her head on the pillow and her ass in the

air, me kneeling behind her with my cock in her cunt and my finger in

her bum, both of us naked, horny, and loving every minute of this. No

kids to burst in on us mid-fuck, no fear of pregnancy and no need to

give a shit what the neighbors would think. We were putting the 'sex'

into 'sexagenarian'.

I

started moving my cock in and out in my favorite long strokes. I think

I'd read that the vagina is most sensitive near its entrance so I wanted

to get the widest part of my cock stimulating her there as much as

possible. Then I'd push my entire length in so she would feel full. I

tried to move my finger in and out of her anus at the same time. I did

my best, but it was like trying to rub your belly while you're patting

your head. Still, Marie seemed to appreciate the effort. She was so wet

with arousal that there seemed hardly any friction between us but her

vaginal muscles were gripping me like an internal fist. She grunted as

she pushed back against me as well as she could. We lasted longer than I

expected but eventually we both got there.

"Oh, fuck;” She gasped, "I'm so; So close; Just touch me; There; Oh, yes; Just; Like; Ah!"

Her

orgasm was so intense and she gripped me so hard that I came too within

less than a minute. I hadn't realized that vaginal and anal muscles

seem to be on the same circuit. But when Marie's cunt muscles gripped my

cock, her sphincter clamped onto my finger too. I managed to extract

the offending digit from his naughty place and collapsed on the bed next

to my wife, both of us trying to catch our breath.

"You dirty old bugger," she said. "What made you decide to do that now?"

"I'm

not altogether sure," I replied truthfully. "But it's occurred to me a

couple of times this weekend that I've kissed that little opening while

I've been pleasuring both you and Angie, but I've never really done more

than that. And I wanted to do it with you. Tonight seemed like the

right time."

"Mmm," she responded. "Well, just so you know, it's okay to keep that in your repertoire."

I

made a quick trip to the bathroom to wash hands and cock then climbed

into bed to spoon my drowsy wife. As she dozed off, while I played with

her boobs I started to think about what having sex with different women

would mean to me. I mean, come on, different libidos, different

erogenous zones, potentially different 'no-go' areas and, more

interestingly different kinks. Marie had a well-intentioned idea, but

muggins here had to deliver. And I wanted to do it properly so I slowly

and surely drew my plans.

Tuesday

We

slept in a little that morning so we only had time for a quick

missionary fuck to greet the day. Then we used the bathroom and went

down to breakfast together. Over tea and toast we chatted about plans

for the day. Now UK readers of a certain age will understand, but for

everyone else, you might need to know this. British garden centers are

often a weekly destination of choice for retirees. Yes they sell plants,

and Brits are inveterate gardeners, but they also sell seasonal goods,

artisan produce and have great coffee shops. Today though, I offered an

alternative to our usual haunt.

"I think that we should go to a naughty shop." I suggested.

"Because?" Prompted Marie.

"Well,

last night, after shagging you into unconsciousness, I was thinking

about your, our, plan." I paused. "So far we have proved that you can

cope seeing me screw another woman, and you can take pleasure with

another woman yourself, and we've prepped the beds for lots of sex but;”

I hesitated again.

"Go on," she urged me gently. "Let me see where you're going with this."

"It's

just that I barely know most of your friends, apart from Angie, and the

reality is that we aren't even going on a date before I fuck them. I've

no idea what turns them on or anything. Talk about going in unprepared.

So I thought, we'd need lube and stuff, so why not a few toys too, to

lighten the mood?"

She

sat back, "Oh, shit! Now I understand why you've not been nearly as

excited as I expected. I've been so caught up in this fantasy of my

friends all having the same great sex as me," she looked embarrassed.

"But I did just what Angie said. She said we were discussing you the

same way that the men we despised talk about women. But instead of tits

and cunts, just as a cock with a man attached!"

She

burst into tears. "I'm supposed to be your wife," she sobbed. "I'm

supposed to cherish you. But no, I'm just so excited about pimping you

out to my friends that I forgot all about your feelings and fears. Fuck!

What a bitch I am. Why do you even stay with me?"

She

ran from the room, tears streaming down her face. Maybe I should have

gone after her, but she knew where I was when she was ready. Obviously,

being British I made a cup of tea for myself and got one ready for Marie

for when she emerged. After I'd finished my drink and eaten my Hobnob

biscuit I went past our bedroom on the way to the loo and I could hear

her speaking softly on her phone, her voice still breaking with emotion.

On

the way back downstairs I tapped on the door and looked in. She glanced

up through tear stained eyes. I asked her if she wanted me to make her a

cuppa. She nodded and told me that she'd be down shortly, after she'd

been to the bathroom.

She

looked a little better when she came down. I shouted to her that I'd

got her drink in the living room and she joined me there.

She

sighed. "We can't keep on like this, can we? I ruined our day

yesterday, I've sobbed my heart out this morning for treating you like a

whore and tomorrow you're going to join a drug trial: When all you

actually wanted was to make love to your wife again."

I

said; nothing. She needed to work through this herself. Platitudes

wouldn't help. Eventually she looked at me. "Geoff, tell me honestly, do

you want to sleep with my friends?"

I

sat forward in my seat. "You have offered me most men's fantasy. A

nearly open marriage where I am allowed to have sex with multiple women,

and I don't have to think about you with other men. But I worry about

the cost. What if this isn't a fantasy but a nightmare? What if it

splits us up? What if you can't face living with me anymore after you've

seen my cock in all of your friends? Where will we live? How do we

explain to our family why we aren't together anymore? I keep trying to

introduce reality into this fantasy, but I'm just not convinced that you

'get it' yet." And, yes, I did the air quotes.

"I

suggested the rules, not you, I thought about the need for erection

supplements, I bought the bedding. I've been thinking about stuff like

sex toys, lube, boundaries for fuck's sake! I need you on the same page

or this is a disaster waiting to happen."

She sipped her tea. "You've thought about this, haven't you? What do you think could go wrong?"

"Okay,

fair enough," I replied. "Imagine this. One of your friends loves anal

sex. She will do anything. She actually prefers it. You try it and hate

it, but I enjoy it. Now, the only place I can get anal sex is every

three weeks with this one woman. Will you believe that's enough? Or will

you wonder, whenever you're volunteering or when I go to the pool, if

I'm out somewhere fucking your friend's ass and laughing at you? I

wouldn't, but would you believe me?"

She started to answer but the doorbell rang. I went to find Angie on the step.

"I

was shopping when Marie called," she explained. "I just left the

trolley in the aisle and came straight over." She followed me into the

room and went and gave my wife a big hug. I left them and went to put

the kettle on again while Marie gave her friend a slightly more coherent

account of this morning's discussion than she'd managed over the phone.

I

went back to ask Angie if she'd prefer tea or coffee. She looked at me

as though I was insane. "Are you fucking joking?" She asked. "Wine, red,

bring the bottle and three glasses."

"It's not eleven yet," I pointed out. She just glared at me. "I'll get the wine and be right back."

"I do like your bloke," Angie told my wife. "He understands when to do and when to argue. That's always good in a man."

"So

why am I pimping him out?" Begged Marie, with a catch in her voice. "I

want my friends to be happy but I've been touting my husband like a sex

toy."

I put the wine on the table and poured three generous glasses and set them so we could each reach.

"Oh,

be quiet you silly cow," Angie told her, with absolutely no sympathy at

all. "He's great in bed, and so are you. All you need to do is stop

with the rose-tinted spectacles and listen to the man. He's not stupid.

He's going to screw Jo, who is gorgeous and Lucy, who's got the body of a

teenager and Sam, who is my current lesbian fantasy of choice. As well

as the rest of us. He's doing well out of this, but he loves you, you

daft tart. Get that in your head and make sure he understands how much

you love him too. Now get a grip and help him make it work instead of

feeling sorry for yourself!"

I grinned at Angie and raised my glass to her. She returned the salute and we both took a swig.

"Angie," Marie spoke quietly. "Do you want to come shopping with us? We'll have lunch out, on us, then on to the naughty store."

Of

course she did. The girls went to try to repair the effects of this

morning's tears on Marie's face. I put my wine in the kitchen for later.

As far as I knew, the nearest 'adult store' was a repurposed

out-of-town roadside café about half an hour away.

We

were in no rush, so we took our time to get ready and left home about

noon. There's a lovely little Sicilian bistro about half way between our

house and the store, so we lunched there. Calamari and Crab Arancini,

is there anything better?

When

we got to the store the girls were like giggling teens. I went to get a

basket while they started to browse. I found them by the dildos. Now,

if there's anything in a sex shop that's calculated to make a normal man

insecure, it's the size of some of those things. I mean, come on! If I

know my sex partner can accommodate something as big as my thermos flask

up her milky way, what's the point of me sticking my average cock in

her? It would be like throwing a sausage up Oxford Street.

Fortunately

for my fragile male ego both of my lovers, (sounds good doesn't it? So

I'll say it again) both of my lovers agreed that the extra extra large

were designed for, and I quote, "Slack twatted masochists". So we

browsed some more, discussing the type of sexual adventures we might

like to explore amongst the girls and me. That gave them some ideas, so I

went and got another basket.

And

that's how we ended up with two baskets full of interesting toys and

accessories including, but not limited to; bottles of lube, anal plugs,

clitoral stimulators, dildos, vibrators (anal and vaginal; who knew?),

silk scarves, handcuffs, a strap-on, cock rings, nipple clamps, condoms,

hygienic wipes and some spanking aids. The girls also showed me

something called a 'Pocket Pussy', but I thought that if I was screwing

three different women every week it might be redundant.

I

put my foot down and put the ball gag and leather whip back on the

shelf. The nipple clamps seemed a step too far as well but they pleaded

with me to leave them in the basket. There was some nice fetish wear too

but it would have been presumptuous to buy that to fit women who hadn't

actually signed up yet. Marie and Angie had just spent well over £400

on stuff just for the three of us.

I'll

be honest: I was a bit apprehensive on the drive home. The girls were

sitting in back seat chatting when Angie surprised me. "Marie," she

said. "What is Geoff thinking about now?" My shock was because Angie

isn't usually very good with people stuff.

Marie didn't understand. "Well, he's driving, so he'll be thinking about the road."

Angie

looked at me. "Is that it Geoff? Is all of your available science

graduate brain power being devoted to keeping this high-tech vehicle on

this long, straight and boring stretch of near empty dual carriageway?"

"No Angie," I admitted. "I have a bit of spare capacity for non-vehicular thoughts."

Angie

turned back to her friend. "You really do take him for granted, don't

you? Get your head out of the clouds and look back over today and try to

imagine what your husband is thinking about. Or," she added lovingly,

"I may just have to punch you."

"I suppose he's probably wondering if he's having sex with me, or even you and me, tonight."

"Is that it Geoff? Is that all you're thinking." Angie continued her interrogation.

"Er, not entirely," I conceded.

Angie glared at Marie and asked. "Does he look like a man who is guaranteed to get laid tonight?"

"Um,

I suppose not," my wife replied. "Why Geoff? I don't understand why you

look so," she searched for the right word. "...Uneasy."

Angie

stared meaningfully at me. So I tried to explain. "Look, I can't share

your experiences as women. I can sympathize with you over periods,

cramps, childbirth and the menopause but I don't, and can't, 'know' what

you're going through, but it looks like it sucks.

"But,

when it comes to having sex, then the pressure is on men. You can fake

an orgasm; me not so much. Slap some lube on my cock and you can fuck me

whether you're aroused or not; I can't fake an erection. You could fuck

a whole queue of men and then go around again until you get too sore;

give me a queue of women and the ones at the back can go for a lie down,

'cos it'll be a long while until I get to them.

"Two

months ago it looked possible that I'd had sex for the last time in my

life and I was pissed off. Then we rekindled our sex life. It was great,

and I was happy again. Then Angie joined us in bed." Angie frowned at

where I might be going with this. "It was wonderful, but at the same

time, my wife had just watched me fuck her best friend. How can that not

end badly?

"There's

a bag of toys in the car that are designed to go on, round or up you to

give you pleasure. The cock ring is there to keep me hard, for you. I'm

happy to take you both to bed and play with your toys and I know it

will be great, but I still feel like I've got seduced onto this

rollercoaster and now I'm on it I have to see it through to the end,

whether I want to or not.

"So,

sorry if I don't seem childishly excited, but I actually feel as though

I'm about to sit an important exam that I've only just found out about

and I haven't prepared for; and even if I pass there's no guarantee of a

job at the end."

Angie

looked at Marie. "This is important, so listen well. His ego is

fragile. He needs your support and encouragement. Don't just expect him

to fuck like a wind-up toy rabbit. He's a man, not just a cock. If you

fuck this up because you forget that, then you could fuck your marriage

up as well. He's told you that, but I still don't think you've

understood."

Marie

nodded and stared thoughtfully out of the window as I drove us home.

She finally spoke, "Just before you arrived this morning Angie, Geoff

had asked me how I'd feel if one of," a pause for thought. "If one of

his lovers did something for him, something that I couldn't or wouldn't

do. You rang the doorbell before I had an answer for him.

"Here's

my answer. Geoff, you are the most honest, most decent man I know. If

you tell me that you will never fuck any other woman without my

approval, I know that you won't. If one of my friends gives you sex that

I don't, I will thank them. If you want a threesome with two other

women or an orgy with all of them, I will do everything I can to make it

happen.

"In

return, I promise that I will never have sex with any of our friends

without your permission and I will never ask you for permission to fuck

another man. My friends have no-one; I have you. That's all I need.

"Angie,"

Marie turned to her best friend. "I am relying on you to tell me what I

need to hear if I start to take my darling husband for granted. I want

the rest of our friends to have what the three of us have already

shared. But you're right: It mustn't harm what he and I have just

recovered."

When

we arrived home we piled into the house with our bags of toys and Angie

accepted our offer to stay for tea (for non-Brits, a meal taken between

about five and six). We'd already had a substantial lunch so we just

grabbed some bits from the fridge. She couldn't stay over as she hadn't

brought a change of clothes, but she was delighted to sign up for some

early evening sex.

We

experimented with vibrators and dildos, the girls experimented with

putting a butt plug in my bum, well lubed, thankfully, and I tried on

the cock ring. Eventually we got around to sex with cock and cunts. I'm

old fashioned; I enjoyed that bit best.

Tonight

though, the script changed a little again. The girls both wanted to

suck me at the same time. You can imagine how hard I tried to talk them

out of it! As blow jobs go, objectively it was just okay at the

beginning but then they stopped fighting and worked as a team; big

improvement! Visually, it was epic! I know these women were over sixty,

but they had both worn well thanks to good genes, diet and exercise. And

I was looking down on the pair of naked friends sucking my cock, one to

each side, then one at the tip and the other at my balls, then both at

my balls, then one swallowing me while the other; Ooh; She was kissing

my bum hole and licking my balls from behind.

I couldn't take that for too long so I begged them to stop before I came. Then I had an idea.

"Ladies,

I'm taking five to recuperate. Why not try a vibrator challenge?" It

sounded dirty so I had their attention. "You each have a vibrator and

you have to allow the other to put their vibrator on and in you, and the

loser is the first one to come."

They

looked at each other, grinning like Cheshire Cats. They went to the toy

box and selected their weapons. I told them to get on the bed, top to

tail, and counted them in.

"Five, four, three, two, one, Go!" And they did.

I

have never seen anything so erotic in my life. My two favorite women

wrestling naked on my bed trying to bring each other to orgasm with

vibrators. I was almost tempted to wank while I was watching, but I

wanted to keep my sperm for the girls. They were cheating too; sucking

and tweaking nipples as they fought.

I

considered intervening, but why? I just wanted to see naked ladies

wrestle: Who fucking cares if they cheat? Eventually Marie started to

falter. That was the beginning of the end. Once the wave started to

build inside her, she lost focus and Angie pounced like a feral cat. She

pinned my writhing wife down and held her vibrator to Marie's clit.

Marie had no chance from then on. From trying to avoid the touch of joy,

she sought it as her hips moved to maximize her ecstasy. Inevitably she

came, and came again. Until Angie relented and rolled away raising her

vibrator in triumph. There's a sentence not many people will ever write.

Marie

had got some good shots in though. And Angie wasn't far from peaking

either. I jumped onto the bed, pausing only to push my wife to one side.

"Excuse me dear. You lost, so I have to fuck the winner."

I

kissed her lips, her throat and under her jaw, her ears, her belly and

then back to those glorious tits. I worked my kisses down her belly

again but this time I didn't stop. I kissed her vulva through her

panties tasting her wetness as I did so. I pulled her panties off not

caring if they tore. She moaned again.

Now

I knelt between her thighs, sucking and licking at her cunt. She

writhed under my touch as she came the first time. I was merciless. I

pulled her up and put my cock to her face. "Suck it you slut!" I

ordered.

She

did. No finesse, no games, she just took my cock in her mouth and used

her throat and tongue to give me pleasure while I pulled her head back

and forth to force myself into her; and she loved it. She moaned yet

again.

I

pushed her back down and knelt between her thighs again. This time

there was no foreplay on my part. She was my woman; so I took her. I put

my cock between her thighs and rubbed it against her clit to make her

even wetter then I pushed straight into her cunt. I went her full depth

with my first thrust and from there on I just sawed in and out of her

with my hips. She wasn't complaining, she pulled her knees up to her

chest allowing me to drill even deeper into her body. We barely spoke.

We just grunted and growled like the animals we were. Mating purely for

the pleasure. Neither of us giving, just taking, but both enjoying the

raw bestial lust we were sharing. I ground and ground myself into her

trying to postpone my own pleasure for as long as I could. If that meant

Marie got to have another orgasm or two, then that was her good

fortune, but not my concern. Fuck sensitivity! I came eventually and I

didn't care. She was lucky that she was so close that the feel of my

sperm hitting her womb tipped her over for her final spasm. I finished

pumping when I ran out of spunk and collapsed on top of her.

We lay for at least five minutes while our pulse rates recovered. Eventually Marie spoke. "I'm ever so sorry."

I

looked at her in bemusement. "What in the name of sanity are you

talking about? I know men who would sell a kidney for a fuck like that."

She

sat up and reach across to her bedside table to pick up her phone.

"Turn around," she instructed. I did, and heard her take a photo. "Okay,

I'm done. You can turn back now."

She

showed me the photo that she'd just taken of my back. I might have

fucked my woman, but she'd just as effectively marked her man. She got

up to go to our bathroom. "I'll put some antiseptic cream on that for

you. It looks painful."

Thursday

We

woke up about eight thirty and snuggled for a while. Then Marie needed

to pee so we both decided to get up. She was kind enough to put some

more antiseptic on the claw marks on my back once I'd finished in the

shower. It stung for a while but I'm a big boy now, so I coped. We had

no chores that morning so we went for a walk into town. There's a coffee

shop we like, just off the High Street, so we headed there. It's a half

hour's stroll to get to it but it's a pleasant enough walk through the

old part of town.

The

weather was still nice so we even walked back home, chatting about her

plans to have me fuck her friends. I asked if we should give them a

special name. "Ooh," she said. "Like Geoffrey's Angels?"

"Nice," I answered. "How about something classical? The Succubae?"

She came back with, " Maybe: What about 'The Sextet'?"

We

batted ideas back and forth, getting sillier as we went. When we got

home we pottered about with those tasks that retired people use to fill

their time. After lunch we sat and read for a while and then I collected

Colin from school. His mum picks him up if he's at an after-school club

or if he goes to a friend's house, but today he was with us for tea, as

his mum had to work late.

After

he'd finished his homework, Colin ate with us and then disappeared into

the study to watch TV. Linda came in a while later and dashed upstairs

to the toilet while Marie plated up the meal that she had kept back,

knowing Linda wouldn't be bothered to start cooking just for herself

after a late shift.

Linda

came back downstairs with an odd look on her face and sat at the table.

She looked at the meal her mum had prepared for her as if she was in a

daze. "Dad," she said, in a strained voice. "Would you mind if I spoke

to mum; in private?"

"Are you okay?" I asked, genuinely concerned. She nodded. "Right then, I'll go and annoy Colin."

As

I left I heard Linda starting to speak in low but urgent tones to her

mother, then one of them got up and closed the kitchen door and I heard

nothing more. I found Colin watching a zombie movie on Netflix. It was

classified as suitable for eighteen or older, but we tended to operate a

more pragmatic scheme in our households. Linda was content for him to

watch selected mature content as long as he didn't copy the profanity,

the violence, and particularly not the sex.

Colin

and I debated for some time whether zombies could actually survive on a

diet of human brains, but we never reached a satisfactory conclusion

before the kitchen door opened and Marie called for me to join her and

Linda in the kitchen.

"Are you in trouble, Grandad?" Colin whispered.

"Usually," I whispered back. He nodded sympathetically as I took the condemned man's walk to meet the women.

Marie

met me at the door obviously trying to keep a straight face, without

Linda seeing how hard she was trying not to laugh. "Linda wants to talk

to you," she said. "I'll go keep Colin company."

Now,

I don't like being at a loss in my own home so I went and sat down in

the hope that someone would tell me what the fuck was going on; and

soon! Linda cleared her throat. "Dad. I just told mum that I thought she

might be being unfaithful to you. She denied it but she says that I owe

it to you to tell you anyway."

"Really? What makes you think that?" I asked.

"Well,

she's been acting really oddly for these last few weeks. I could tell

you'd had a big row earlier this week and;” she seemed to be on the

verge of tears as she paused to tell me what had convinced her of her

mother's infidelity. "...And when I came in tonight, I was so desperate

for the toilet that I actually peed in my knickers. It was only a little

bit, but I couldn't wear them around your house, so I went to borrow

some of mum's. I knew she wouldn't mind."

"Nope!" I said, "Not seeing the link yet."

"The

link," she huffed at me. "Is that I found a pair of open crotch panties

in her underwear drawer along with a box of sex toys!"

"So

how do erotic underwear and sex toys lead to this conversation, where

you accuse my wife of adultery?" I asked her, my hackles starting to

rise.

"Well,"

she said, possibly starting to wonder if she'd tap-danced her way into a

minefield. "It's not like you two are going to need;” She stopped

talking and looked nervously at me; as well she might.

"Yes?"

I asked her, innocently. "What were you going to say about crusty old

geriatrics and their lack of need for sex toys? Do tell. I'd be

fascinated to hear your views on old people fucking." Her eyes popped

open. I don't think she'd ever heard me say that word. "You seem to be

well informed on this, so perhaps you can advise me. At what age should I

have found your mother so terminally unattractive that I had her cunt

sewn shut?

"Were

the panties French Navy with a lace trim?" Her expression told me that

they were. "I bought those for her to let her know that I loved her and

still found her desirable." I tried to keep my temper. She meant well

but; It rankled that she would rather assume that her mum was screwing

around with another man than believe we still had sex as man and wife.

"Your

mum and I actually had a conversation only yesterday about our sex

lives before we met. We've never worried about what went before and I'm

not worried now. I can put my hand on my heart and promise that I have

no concerns about your mother having illicit sex."

Do

you see what I did there? That's an illustration of the difference

between deceit and lying. I never said Marie wasn't fucking about; I

just said that it didn't concern me. It's not my fault that Linda

inferred something else.

I

stood up. I pointed to her meal going cold at the table. "Eat your tea.

Your mum went to the trouble of keeping it for you. You can thank her

when you're apologizing."

I found Marie in the passage leading to the study. "Well?" she asked. Her meaning being clear.

"I

couldn't be too cross with her." I answered. "She was genuinely upset.

But. Fuck! Were we this intolerant when we were in our thirties?"

"We

probably were. But I'm going to have a talk with the bitch about

implying I'm a slut; even if it's true." So saying, she set her

shoulders and marched off to the kitchen to 'talk'. I sought refuge with

Colin and we resumed our debate on the topic of zombie nutrition.

A

subdued daughter and a zombie-satiated grandson left for home at about

eight. Marie told me that she and Linda had come to an understanding and

that we were all still on speaking terms. Apparently, Linda will ask in

future before going through our underwear drawers and she will respect

our right to privacy in our sex life. In return my wife won't slap her

senseless for suggesting her mother was a whore.

Marie

asked me how Colin and I had got on through all the drama. I replied

that, on balance, we thought it unlikely that zombies could maintain an

effective metabolism purely on a diet of human brains. She thought about

that for a moment; then agreed.

We

watched a little TV, well it was a 50 inch TV but we didn't watch for

long, if you see what I mean. Then we read for a while and then went to

bed. Marie said the claw marks on my back were getting better and put

some more cream on. She actually used the expression 'tiny scratches'

but she meant claw marks so I'm going with that. And by way of apology

she gave me a magnificent blow job before she turned over and went to

sleep. It wasn't very romantic, but I'm a bloke: Blow job over romance

any day!

Friday

Marie

woke first. When the alarm went off at eight, I awoke to find her

snuggled up close to me with her head against my shoulder, tits

scrunched against my belly and her hand cupping my balls.

"Good morning, dear," she said perkily. "Would sir like the breakfast special today?"

"Oh, that sounds promising," I replied. "What does it consist of?"

"Well, mainly just me," she said apologetically. Gently caressing my nuts.

"That

should be enough for anyone," I said as I rolled over to face her. We

got ourselves arranged so that we could explore each other's bodies as

we kissed, and how we kissed. After last night's amazing suck fest, this

morning was all about connecting, feeling and loving.

I

broke away from her lips and bent to her tits. Even after years of

marriage and suckling two children, her boobs still entranced me. Soft,

malleable, warm and inviting; I could spend, literally, hours playing

with them. I love the soft curved underboobs, so I kissed them. The hard

brown nipples reaching for attention were duly licked, sucked, nibbled

and tweaked. Marie directed me with her hands on my head and arched her

back to press her lady pillows into my face.

We

kissed again and then she moved down my body, kissing all the way. She

slowed when she got below my navel, tormenting me by kissing around my

erection. I swear that muscles I didn't know I had were trying to

maneuver it into her mouth. Eventually she relented and took the head

between her lips. It wasn't the porn-video style oral sex she treated me

to last night. It was gentle, tender and loving.

"My

turn to taste you now," I told her as I drew her back up. We kissed

again before I took my journey down my wife's body, pausing to renew my

worship of her tits. I adored her soft round belly, not taut like

Angie's, but Rubenesque and feminine. Her pubis, which she had shaved

recently, showed her little slit, her lips engorged with arousal and

glistening with the nectar I was seeking.

I

bent over her body, lapping at her cunt, savoring every moment. I was

settling in for the long haul when Marie put her hand on the back of my

head and pleaded. "I need you inside me. Now. Please. Make me come for

you."

I

turned her on her left side, with her left leg straight down and her

right leg bent forward at the hip, then I straddled her left leg and

entered her. It isn't a position that lets me go really deep, but I love

being able to caress her bum and her boobs at the same time. When we do

it this way, soft and slow, it feels like making love: And the moment

that thought went through my mind, I was off again; this time moving my

hips in time to the dulcet tones of Paul Rodgers playing in my head. The

tempo was perfect for the mood we were in, but I really think I may

need professional help.

Marie

started to moan with pleasure so I raised the stakes and used my right

hand to stroke her clit: Gently at first but then faster as her moans

became more urgent. She started to beg. "Please, Geoff; I'm so close;

Harder baby, please make me; Oh; I'm; Ah;” Her cunt muscles gripped me

as the orgasm flooded over her but I had a while to go yet. I kept the

pressure on her clit until she pleaded with me to stop, but I kept

stroking at the same pace until I could feel the sensation building in

my groin. Now I speeded up; I groped her tits as I pounded into her, my

balls smacking against her buttock with every stroke. I was mindless

now; If she spoke to me, I never heard; I was just a machine with one

aim, to pump my sperm into this cunt as deep as possible. In and out; in

and out; in and; further in and. Oh, God! I came, shooting gobs of

semen, bathing her insides. She may have come again too, but I was in no

state to notice.

I

stayed inside her for as long as I could, and as my cock slipped out of

her I lay down and spooned her from behind. "I love you, you know," I

told her. "And I cherish every day that I can show you how much."

Marie

took my hand and moved it to her tit. "I love you too. And you can

think of me in the shop today, serving little old ladies and young mums

alike with your semen seeping into my underwear. Our naughty little

secret."

We

disentangled ourselves and I made breakfast while she used the

bathroom. After I'd waved her off to work I tidied the house, it didn't

take much, and wandered into the kitchen. I was cook today so I decided

to prep for lunch and our evening meal. For lunch I sliced two panini

and filled one with blue cheese, ham and onion relish for me, the other

with goats cheese and beetroot relish for Marie. They went in the fridge

for later.

Linda

and Colin were eating with us that evening after work, so I cubed some

lamb and put it in a yoghurt and spice marinade ready for a nice Indian

dish later. I prepped some vegetables to accompany the meal and weighed

out the rice. That took me nicely to coffee time. I had just sat down

when the doorbell rang. It was the courier with the ED22. I was now

officially a lab-rat; but one that could fuck all night.

Marie

arrived home about one o'clock as usual and joined me in the kitchen,

where the paninis were almost ready. Her eyes went straight to the

package on the table.

"Is that?" She asked.

"Yes, that's my course of ED22," I answered. "Do you want to take it for a spin?"

She

looked uncertain. "It's so odd," she said. "The package looks so

innocuous, but from your description, if you take one of those pills you

could fuck me almost non-stop for at least eight hours. Part of me

still worries about what a drug so potent could be doing to your health.

Part of me is aroused at the thought of you being so virile."

"Shall I take one now?" I teased her.

"No!"

She was adamant, "Until we have tried this on our own and seen how you

respond, I won't risk having you permanently erect in front of our

daughter and grandson. But I may have a treat for you later." She left

it at that and wouldn't be drawn.

We

ate our lunch along with a cup of tea while Marie described her morning

at the shop. She said a lot of the staff and regular customers

commented on how well she looked of late. She smirked as she confessed

how much she would love to tell them that it was down to a frequent good

fucking.

We

went for a walk after lunch, getting home in time for me to collect

Colin from school. Homework today was to consider the message in George

Orwell's book, 'Animal Farm'. Colin explained the story to me and asked

me what I thought the message was. I admired his cunning but pointed out

that it was his homework not mine. After some debate he wrote, "The

message of the book seems to be that it’s all very well to have a good

idea but someone will always screw it up." I was proud of him. But I

also hoped his assessment wasn't prescient.

He

sat and told his gran about school while I started to cook the lamb. A

long, slow simmer in garlic, ginger and the marinade. Then I joined them

and we decided to watch a film together. Linda rang to say she'd be at

ours for about five thirty, so we had plenty of time.

The

rest of the afternoon went as you'd expect. We watched the film, I

finished cooking the meal ready for Linda finishing work and, when she

arrived we sat and ate. Linda was quiet after yesterday's 'discussion'

but there was no real tension between us.

We

finished our meal and loaded the dishwasher and went to sit in the

living room. After a while Marie excused herself and went upstairs while

I chatted to Linda and agreed what days I was to collect Colin from

school the following week. We'd just about sorted it out when I had to

answer the doorbell: It was Angie and she had her overnight case in tow.

"Hi

stud," she greeted me. "Is that Linda's car? Is her gorgeous little lad

here too?" She didn't wait for an answer, but pushed past me on the way

for big hugs all round.

"Hi

Angie," Linda greeted her favorite 'aunt'. She'd been instructed not to

refer to her as 'Auntie Angie' ever again once she turned eighteen.

"You look lovely Angie. Like you're dressed for a big date." Angie

thanked her but ignored the implied question.

Angie

did indeed look nice. Very nice. She was wearing a short blue skirt a

few inches above her knees, a white satin blouse cut low enough to see a

small white lace bra designed to make her tits look as big as possible

and she had forgotten to kick off her two-inch heels in her rush to

greet Linda and Colin so her long toned legs looked spectacular and so

did her ass. Unusually too, she was wearing make-up; not much, and it

was artfully applied, but she had obviously taken care to look good

tonight.

After exchanging greeting and kisses Angie asked where my wife was. I told her that she'd gone upstairs.

"Oh, then she'll be getting ready too," says Angie. And went off in search of her friend.

Linda looked me thoughtfully. "You never said you had plans tonight."

"Do

I look like I have a plan?" I replied. "I didn't even know Angie was

coming. Your mother has probably cooked something up. I'll just go along

with it."

A

few minutes later Angie came back downstairs: flushed and grinning.

"Marie won't be long. She said to remind you to take your vitamin

tablet. We don't want you to get run down."

I

was a bit non-plussed. We both take our vitamin tablets over breakfast

so why; Oh. THAT vitamin tablet. That's the surprise Marie mentioned.

That's the reason for Angie's overnight case.

Linda

was in full-on bloodhound mode and she could smell something fishy was

afoot. She stared at me, and got a blank look in return. She stared at

Angie. Fuck! I think that was when she noticed that her nearly-auntie's

lipstick was smudged, and it had been fine when she went upstairs to see

Marie. I actually saw the penny drop! But she couldn't say a word. Her

mother had made it clear. Our sex-life was none of her business.

Looking

all flustered, Linda told Colin to get ready to go because gran and

grandad obviously 'had plans' for tonight, so I called Marie to come

down to say goodbye. She had obviously been busy too. She was ravishing!

A charcoal grey, knee length dress, longer than Angie's but with a

generous slit at the front and a low cut top presenting her wondrous

boobs for the world to admire.

"We

thought we'd take you dancing tonight," Marie announced. "Once Linda's

gone you can shower and get ready. I've left some clothes out for you."

Linda

was speechless. She eventually managed to compliment her mother on how

lovely she looked, but what the fuck she made of the situation, I don't

know. I think her condition is called, 'cognitive dissonance'; the

evidence of your own eyes disproves everything you thought you knew.

Poor girl; this was Marie making a point.

"That was mean," I said, as the two of them drove off.

"At

the moment, she only has to come to terms with Angie being part of our

marriage," explained Marie. "Yes, I enjoyed getting my own back on her

for accusing me of cuckolding you. But if you think she's confused now,

imagine if she found out about the others."

"Oh." Was the most intelligent reply I could come up with.

My

wife looked at her friend and said, "You are going to be the cover

story for the other girls. Stained bed sheets, sex toys, kinky

underwear, in fact anything she finds if she goes snooping, she'll

assume is down to you. I think she'll be happier than knowing the

truth," she finished with a grim satisfaction.

I

left the women to conspire while I went to shower and change. We sat

for a while chatting after I re-joined them, and then left home about

seven thirty. Marie had booked a taxi each way so that we could all

enjoy a drink, but only after checking with me that ED22 remained safe

and effective when taken with alcohol. I popped my first tablet before

we left.

Once

settled in the taxi, Angie spoke first, "This is so fucking weird. You

know?" She looked at Marie. "I can't help myself. I just have to keep

checking it out," she said, glancing meaningfully at me, sitting next to

the driver.

Marie replied, "Yes, I know; you made that quite obvious when we left the house. Though to be fair, I'm just as guilty."

Our

driver tried to pretend he wasn't listening. "It's my new tie," I told

him. "They let me pick it out by myself. They say that I can't be

usually be trusted to choose something nice, but I think that I

surprised them today."

He looked doubtfully at my burnt-orange silk tie. He grunted and went back to his driving and I heard a snickering behind me.

"Just out of interest, anyone care to tell me where we're going?" I enquired.

It

was my wife who answered. "There's a dance band playing at The

Chesterton Hotel. We thought it would be nice to go and listen, have a

few dances and then go back home to see how well that erection enhancing

drug actually works."

The driver quickly managed to get the taxi back under control. It was only a little swerve. And we carried on towards the hotel.

"So

stud, how many ejaculations per hour should you be able to manage with

this stuff. Am I going to be walking like John Wayne all weekend?" Angie

asked conversationally.

Our driver was made of the right stuff; the vehicle barely twitched.

There

was no way the two of them would let the topic drop; they were having

way too much fun, so I just went along with it. "Once I shoot my wad, I

should be ready to go again in fifteen minutes or less."

Angie

was on a roll, "So, if you dump a load in your missus, you could spend

quarter of an hour licking my snatch and then you'd be able to slip me

one as well?" This from a woman with a PhD!

"Well, I couldn't have put it so poetically, but yes." I replied patiently.

"All

night?" She asked sweetly. Angie was fucking relentless. I swear the

poor driver was finding that his underwear needed adjusting.

"Yes, for about eight to twelve hours." I conceded.

Marie

chipped in. "So there'll be pork sausage for breakfast tomorrow Angie!"

And they both fell about laughing in the back seat.

I tried to make civilized conversation with our driver. "Will it be you picking us up after the dance?" I asked him.

"I'll make absolutely fucking certain it is now!" He declared. And the rear seat erupted in fresh gales of laughter.

We

arrived safely and I gave the driver a decent tip by way of apology. I

couldn't decide how to describe the look he gave us as we walked away a

woman on each of my arms. 'bewilderment' comes close

I

enjoyed the dance. The band was excellent and they played pop classics I

recognized. Marie is a much better dancer than me, so she could

compensate for my shortcomings if I led wrong. Angie wasn't quite so

skilled so she and I danced the less complex steps together.

I

could see that a few people there recognized that I didn't discriminate

between the two women when we danced close. I saw several women in

particular watch very closely as I kissed the girls as we took our seats

after a song. Towards the end of the session the girls danced together.

Angie led so that Marie could follow. They danced like lovers, and when

they sat down they kissed each other the same way that I had kissed

both of them. Don't get me wrong, we didn't try to suck each other's

tonsils out, but you shouldn't kiss your sister like that. Then I

realized. They were 'coming out'. We were more than a couple and a

friend, we were a, I don't know, 'trio'? Perhaps a 'ménage a trois', in

recognition of Marie's French grandmother.

The

girls left the dance full of high spirits and two bottles of Vinho

Verde. I'd had a couple of glasses of Duoro Tinto to keep with the

Portuguese theme but I wasn't prepared to risk brewer's droop, even with

the ED22.

We

found the same driver, Ken I noticed his name was, waiting by the car

at the appointed time: I suspect he was there quite a bit earlier, just

in case. As he held the back door open the girls greeted him like an old

friend. To be fair, he knew more about my sex life than almost anyone

else, so perhaps he qualified.

Angie stalked him. "Is the car motor running Ken?" She asked. I rolled my eyes at Marie.

"Er, yes," said the poor unsuspecting chump.

"So

let's get my motor running too," she enthused, grabbing him and giving

him a huge hug and a big wet kiss. "That's my apology for embarrassing

you earlier. I was a naughty girl." She looked at me demurely. "Maybe

daddy will have to spank me later." With that she climbed into the back

of the taxi, showing an unnecessary amount of leg as she did so. Ken

looked at me in awe.

Marie

looked at me, all forlorn. "I embarrassed Ken too. I owe him an apology

as well, if I'm allowed." She looked at me hopefully, Ken looked more

like a rabbit trapped in the car headlights, and I'm sure I heard a

snort from the back seat.

"Okay,"

I spoke with resignation. "Marie, show Ken how sorry you are for

embarrassing him." Apparently she was even more sorry than Angie: Quite a

lot more. She eventually climbed into the back of the cab next to her

pal and all I could hear was giggling. "Ken," I said. "I'm sorry too,

but would it be okay if I just gave you a bigger tip?"

"I'd be relieved as well as grateful, sir," he replied. I liked Ken and decided to ask for him by name in future.

The

ride home was less explicitly smutty, but the whispering and dirty

laughs emanating from behind me suggested that the smut continued

nevertheless.

"Have you got plans tonight Ken?" I asked, trying to make conversation.

"Not

plans as such, sir," he replied. "But I've definitely got something to

put to the wife when I get in tonight." The back seat erupted again.

We

got home safe and sound and the girls went to open up while I settled

the bill with Ken. I think it's fair to say that we'd bonded somewhere

along the way, and the look he gave me as he bid me farewell was a

complex mixture of admiration, envy and possibly just a dash of pity.

I followed them in and found them in the living room. "Well, Marie asked, have you had a stiffy all night?"

"No,"

I said. "Little Geoff has been a perfect gentleman tonight. I mean, he

pumped up a bit when you two tarts started grinding your groins into him

in the slow dances but, otherwise, I don't feel any different at all."

Angie stood up and clapped her hands together. "Come on gang, time to find out. Science needs us."

I

held my hand out to Marie and pulled her in for a kiss. "I couldn't

hear all of your conversation on the way home tonight." I told her. "But

I got the impression you were planning some sort of sex schedule. Any

chance you want to let me in on it?"

"Of

course," she responded. "If you really want me to. But wouldn't it be

easier to show you?" She stepped back and took my hand; then she led me

upstairs."

I

needed to pee, so I stepped into the bathroom. Oh, I forgot about that.

My stream was a lovely pale green. I supposed that if I'd been on the

beer instead of wine, then the dilution effect would have made it more

blue. That wasn't important right now though so I joined Marie and Angie

in the bedroom, where they waited for me, holding hands, still fully

dressed.

"Geoff, sit there," my wife said. "Just trust us and follow our lead."

This

may not be the right time, but I haven't really told you much about our

home. We bought it, newly built, about thirty years ago with a deposit

from my inheritance when my parents died, and the income from our

relatively well paid careers helped to pay the mortgage off. It's a

detached house, with space for four cars parked off-street at the front

and a large patio, lawn and garden at the back. Downstairs we have an

entrance hall, living room, dining room, study, kitchen and utility

room. Upstairs we have two king sized bedrooms with en-suites, two

double bedrooms and a shared bathroom.

I

was now sitting in one of the two small but comfortable armchairs in

our bedroom waiting for my wife's big reveal, and she did not

disappoint. She and her friend embraced each other in the center of the

room as I sat and watched. Marie looked up as Angie bent to kiss her.

Their lips met and they lost themselves in each other's mouths. They may

have intended to merely put on a performance to excite me, and it was

exciting, but this was real. My wife was in a passionate embrace with

another woman and, if I did nothing they would end up making love. I

know; you're thinking that they have already done that. No! That was

playtime sex. They got horny and they fucked. This was two friends,

admittedly lubricated with wine, who had just exposed their bisexual

relationship in public and now they were prepared to express it, while I

watched.

To be continued in part 4. Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts, for Literotica.