1 comments/ 16665 views/ 0 favorites Flashback By: scarfaccio It was weeks like this that Monica could do without. She had been sent to New York in the dead of winter to fix the books for a client that was in some rather serious financial trouble stemming from incompetence in their accounting department. Upon arriving she knew that the week she had in the Big Apple would be spent working dogs hours as the incompetence in accounting apparently knew no bounds. Upon calling the home office to complain she spent her fifteen minutes on hold wishing she had never left the temperate climes of her home in Arizona. She was stuck in a tiny hotel room on the Upper East Side and the temperature outside never climbed above ten. Her one consolation were the opera tickets her boss sent her by way of an apology for sending her on this unholy mission. He knew she was a big fan of the opera and he arranged for her to attend a night of young and rising tenors performing selected arias at the Met. She arrived the Met full of hope that her week would at least have a bright spot, but now standing in her coat in front of the fountain having a cigarette during intermission she knew that this was just a bad week. These young tenors had none of the feel of the great throats of earlier generations and their nerves were apparent in the way they were strangling the highs. She stared across Columbus avenue through the fog and haze of her breath one last time before stubbing out her smoke and heading back inside for more of the sonic torture awaiting her there. At least it was preferable to the miserable cold outside. Erik's week was going no better, although his was more a comedy of errors; minor setbacks that build up and ruin your state of mind. Dropping his lunch after working himself to near starvation, spilling coffee on his favorite shirt, and burning himself pretty much every time he tried to light a cigarette. Tonight was the topper. As the assistant to the senior sound engineer at the Metropolitan Opera House he was obligated to spend his evenings trapped behind a mixing board rather than at Dorney's decompressing with the boys. This week was exceptionally atrocious due to the particularly sorry performance. A group of young and highly touted tenors had been horrible in rehearsals and were proving even worse under the glare in their performance night tuxedos. After a miserable first half he had raced through his intermission level checks and was rushing through the doors for a quick smoke before he was due back behind the doors. To make matters worse he had to leave the dry heat of the concert hall for the freezing winter February air in only his shirtsleeves as grabbing his coat would take too long. Monica froze in her tracks. Something familiar caught her vision near the side of the mall in the thick of the crowd receding back into the building. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was as she scanned the crowd looking for what it was that struck her deeper memories. Before long an uncommon sight met her eyes: a man in a tee shirt standing in the freezing cold was fumbling for a light. She saw on his right forearm the familiar sight that jogged her memory; a thin black band of crossed sabers twisting over ropes of oft used muscle. Groaning to himself over yet another minor misfortune that further shortened his strained temper was the fact that his lighter was in the pocket of his coat. Cigarette dangling from his mouth, he was now going to have to return to his post without the soothing effect of the smoke he was longing for throughout the interminable hour and a half he had labored so far. The flame that inexplicably flared before his face brought a smile to his lips, not just for the fact that he now had a minute to smoke but conjured up a wonderful memory. Eight years prior was the first time he had seen her, four years later the last. He was working his way through school behind a soundboard for small Student Association functions. There was a free concert in the Student center and he was taking a break after setting up. Standing outside in the freezing midwestern winter he was trying to light his cigarette but finding his matches were still inside. Before he could curse under his breath a tiny hand kindled a small gas flame in front of his face. Looking to his right he saw thick, soft black hair cascading down to a slender set of shoulders. In the dim glare of the lighter he saw that the heavy, black curtain framed a face that held both the gentle roundness and high cheekbones of the mixed Asian and European blood of the bearer. The result was an uncommonly striking beauty. Wide grins spread across both their faces as he leaned forward to light his Lucky Strike. The tattoo raced Monica's mind back eight years almost to the day, that early February night under the footbridge from the Student Center to the Clemens Library where she met him. She had gone with some friends to see Skaface at the student center and was outside having a smoke before the show. From the doors to her left emerged a sinewy statue of a man. A cigarette hanging from his mouth the ropes of muscle causing the thin black band of ink on his forearm to ripple as he fished in his pockets for a light. His gaunt face became more and more visible through the thick tangle of curls in front of it as she approached, lighter at the ready. Her lighter had kindled a lot more than a cigarette; they were inseparable after that night. They moved into a house together with a few other housemates after their freshman year and spent the rest of their collegiate careers learning as much about each other as they did their respective fields of study. He spent his days studying the physics of sound, she the math of finance. At night they were together studying each other's minds and bodies. Before long they knew each other inside and out. He was everything she could have wanted as a lover and confidant, she was his sheela-na-gig, devouring him body and soul. They stayed in a state of self-contained bliss until graduation. She earned a job with a prominent accounting firm in Arizona while he was drawn to New York to earn his MFA in sound and stage production at Julliard. They spent a week huddled together crying and making love in their room, emerging only for small meals, before going their ways. They kept in touch for a year but life goes on. These memories swirled before her eyes and before she knew it she was standing next to him lighting his cigarette. He turned to his left to thank the owner of the flame and stopped dead dropping his cigarette to the ground. He was staring into the face of his great lost love. The smiles that spread over their faces were wider and far less controlled than the first ones they shared upon meeting. They embraced as euphorically as only two people so connected and out of touch could. "Holy shit, Monica, how are you!" "Great! Well, now I am. What are you doing here?" "Slaving away behind the board as usual. What about you, don't tell me you moved to New York without looking for me?" he asked with anger he wasn't himself sure was mocking or sprung from true disappointment at being forgotten. "Oh, Jesus, not at all. I was sent here to work on the assignment from Hell, I leave tomorrow." The word tomorrow hung in the air notifying them that their reunion would be brief. "You work here? That must be amazing, all the great music you get paid to hear," she tried to alleviate the awkwardness. "Usually it's not that bad, but you've seen what I've had to deal with all week with this trash. Just the capper on an awful week." He looked into those familiar glistening brown eyes and felt the euphoria spread through him again. "What am I talking about? I can't believe I'm seeing you. This is a fantastic week." They made plans to meet at a nearby bar after he got off work and catch up. He spent the remainder of his working hours lost in warm memories. She squirmed in her seat oblivious to the butchering of an aria from Don Giovanni. The moments ticked off and when the curtain closed she made for the coat check and then the door as quickly as she could. He arranged for the second assistant to supervise the strike and left just as fast. His knowledge of the streets of the city brought him to the bar before her and he was nestled in a booth in back sipping his first pint when she walked in. Heads turned while she was still in her coat. The Met crowd never traveled far enough south after a show to drink with the plebes and the well-groomed affluence she radiated was a rare sight. Her toned legs carried her on her winding path through the thick crowd towards the back, everyone watching to see where this determined woman was striding. When she arrived at a booth occupied by a scruffy man in a threadbare tee shirt and dirty jeans most of them turned away in disinterest. The few that gawked on in disbelief were treated to a vision as she dropped her heavy wool coat. Her black crushed velvet dress was definitely not off the bargain rack. The wide straps over her shoulders cris-crossed eight inches below her neck and continued to plunge all the way to the bottom of the deeply cut back, her smooth skin, golden skin exposed to the base of her spine. Erik stared in glorious reminiscence at the flesh he remembered as so soft and warm. The limber arms that held him so tightly those years ago reached out after placing her coat on the bench inviting him to stand for a more proper embrace. He stood and placed a quick kiss on her cheek as they hugged warmly. The waitress came to take her drink order after they sat and they began to catch up. "My God, you haven't changed at all," she exclaimed as she leaned back to drink in his sight. "Working in theater kinda keeps my diet the same as it was in college, so I guess I'm gonna stay like this for a while," he joked. "You, by the way, are stunning, speaking of not changing." She laughed. "Well, you know what they say about Arizona: 'It's a dry heat.' Yeah, but it's fucking dry, it dries you out. My husband is always yelling at me over the money I spend on moisturizers." His heart sank. "You're married? Congratulations." He managed to force a smile to make himself seem sincere in light of the news that the only woman he ever cried over was no longer available to him. She wasn't fooled. "Oh, well, fuck him. I'll be very surprised if he's not banging some waitress right now." The bitterness in her voice belied the fact that he probably was. His blood boiled that she had given herself to a man who couldn't recognize her worth. How anyone could treat her like that was beyond his belief. They were sullen for a moment, he contemplating the injustice of her being treated in a way he would never dream of, her realizing he would never have done so and regretting her mistake. The merciful waitress arrived with her drink just before the silence got too awkward to handle. They began to bask in the glory of times past as they drank. They more they drank, the closer they huddled. The comfort level was still there, the physical spark still spurring a need to be close. The tension was just as strong as when they met and the feeling was exquisite. Neither of them had felt anything like this in a very long time. She leaned in and nestled her head on his shoulder. With her eyes closed she sighed as she felt the familiar coziness of his tight chest. His arm wrapped around her shoulders bringing back a flood of memories. His thumb stroked her hair and his recollections got the better of him, he leaned down to kiss her cheek. His lips met her soft cheek and reflex took her over as well. Her head turned and her lips met his and they kissed naturally. Every muscle in his body relaxed at same moment as a chill flowed up his back. She felt the swell of electricity as the old comfort of his body came rushing back to her. "Let's get out of here," she said to him as their kiss broke and before they could think twice they were in a cab heading back to her hotel. When the cab pulled from the cab they lunged at each other and kissed voraciously. "Jesus this brings back some memories. Remember the ride back from the airport after Christmas at your parent's place?" he asked as his hand slid around behind her and down to her tight rear end. She leaned in both to kiss him and to lift her ass off the seat granting his strong hands free access. "Yeah, I think I do. I think it went something like this," she replied with a grin. Her and slid inside his coat and under his shirt, gently and briefly running up his taught stomach before plunging down into the waist of his jeans. He gasped as he felt her hand encircle his cock and responded by sliding his hand up and inside the tight velvet dress. She gave a gentle squeeze as she felt his rough hand cup her breast. He pinched her nipple as she leaned in to kiss him, they gray and silver of winter in Central Park flying past outside. She straddled him in the back seat of the cab, her dress pulled down off her shoulders exposing her breasts. Her nipples were painfully erect from arousal and exposure to the chill New York winter. He slipped one into his mouth to suck gently and she moaned in relief, both in satiation of her desire and the wet warmth awaiting her nipple in his lips. Her hands shook as she yanked his fly open and wrestled his jeans over his hips. His cock stood out purple and throbbing and she smiled remembering his disdain for underwear that she would chastise him for years ago but worked to her benefit tonight. His hands darted under her dress as she sat over him. Struggling to maintain composure as her hands began to stroke his length with the skill that only the truly familiar lover can his hands slid up her thighs to her crotch. He could already smell her and was not surprised to feel the coarse lace of her panties to be soaked through. His thumb wasted no time finding her clit; he knew her body like a Sherpa knows they Himalayan foothills. The crotch of her panties were quickly pulled aside and she scooted forward. They gasped in unison as the head of his member began to slip between her glistening labia when they heard a loud crack behind them. "Hey! We've been here ten minutes! Pay the fare and get the fuck out already. I better not have to clean that shit up." The cab driver was pretty pissed. Monica rearranged herself as Erik simultaneously paid the hack and zipped his fly. With the fare paid they staggered squinting out of the dark cab into the street. They felt like animals, lips wet and chapped from their kisses, loins aching, rushing towards the warmth and shelter of the hotel lobby. Erik followed Monica as she hurried past reception to the elevator bank. He stared at her ass as she shimmied on her heels; it's magnificence evident even through her heavy wool coat. Arriving at the elevators she hit the up button and they quickly resumed their embrace, lips meeting and tongues intertwining as they waited in the relative seclusion of the late hour. They grew impatient as the seconds ticked on. She pulled back and looked around, grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him further down the hall and through the doors of the women's restroom. Once inside he knew what she was doing and led her into a stall, all of which were vacant. Once locked inside the stall she yanked at his jeans dropping them to his ankles without even bothering with the fly. He tugged her dress down off her shoulders exposing her small, firm breasts before hoisting her up in his arms. She reached down and pulled her panties down until they slid by themselves to her ankles from which she kicked them to the floor. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he let her slip down until he felt the heat from her crotch on his. The kissed again as she descended the final few inches needed to draw him into her. Emotions roared into them as he slipped into her. These feelings had never been felt by either one of them, they giddy electricity of your first time with someone and the tacit physical understanding only achievable with years of intense lovemaking at the same time. They clawed at each other. He was thrusting into her frantically as she pumped her thighs to match his pace. They heaved and grunted through extraordinary sensations, their emotions pouring fuel on the raging physical fire. He fought to clear his head as he began to feel her pussy twitch around him. The fact that they were fucking in a bathroom stall did not change the fact that he felt no other desire in the world but to please her. He wrapped his arms behind her and pulled her down on him until she was fully impaled upon his entire length. She bit her lip and tore at his hair as he ground his hips in slow circles. She bucked up and down with her legs to keep the rhythm going as he amplified her sensations with his hips. The orgasm took her over and she squealed. His heart melted seeing the way her face squeezed in on itself as she came like it has so many times before years ago. He continued to grind into her as she thrust onto him and a chain of orgasms washed over her one after the other. Finally she could take no more and hung limp, her muscles failing after remaining tense for so long. He remained inside her feeling her convulse around him as he held her. Eventually she leaned back and smiled at him before wriggling out of his arms. She kissed his chin, then his neck as she slid down to sit on the seat. She pushed him back against the door of the stall. Leaning forward to hold him there his manhood stood proud and throbbing before her. It was shining, covered in her own musk. Their combined musks mingled and wafted up to her making her feel light headed. One hand remained on his stomach as the other slid down to the base of his shaft. She held it delicately and began to slowly lick her tangy slickness off of him, eventually taking it into her mouth. She descended on him to the root and sucked hard on her way back up cleaning him. She pulled off him with a pop and looked up. "God, I missed you babe." "How did I let you get away?" he asked as his head dropped back against the door to the stall. "Shhh, just stay with me tonight. We'll worry about the rest of it in the morning," she reassured him as she lowered her mouth back to his cock. She remembered everything she needed to know to drive him crazy and wasted no time. Her tongue flickered under the head for a moment before she engulfed him once again. Sucking and twisting her head she had him on the verge in short order. One hand grabbed his balls and kneaded them as she felt his manhood begin to twitch. As he gasped and grabbed at the top of the stall door she plunged her nose to his abdomen, swallowing him as he came. His whole body contracted with enough force to make the heavy stall door hinges creak. She smiled and licked her lips as she grabbed the waist of his jeans. She pulled them back up as she stood and kissed him. "C'mon," she said as she slid the straps of her dress back over her shoulders, "let's head back to my room so I can buy you a drink." He nodded his ascent through the fog in his mind and followed her out of the bathroom. In her room they stripped each other slowly and climbed into bed. They spent the night awake making love and staring at each other, neither one wanting to face the fact that she would be heading back home the next morning. For now at least everything was as it should have been. Flashback Thirty years ago, in the freewheeling '70's, casual sex was a lot different than today. Those of you who were there know what I mean. Those of you who have come of age under the shadow of AIDS and HIV cannot understand. There were still serious threats,but nothing that was absolutely life threatening waiting between the legs of your next lover. I'd given college a try right out of high school, rather than going to University of Vietnam. Fortunately, by the time I'd dropped out of school a couple of years later, the laws had changed and the draft avoided me. I was in my 20's. I had been through one disastrous marriage and divorce. Not having any immediate goals or plans, other than to find work, I was invited to room with a couple I'd known before. Jerry and I had gone to college together for a while. He had gotten his degree and married Chris. So I parked my '62 Pontiac (a real boat of a car) in front of their house and slept on the couch. Everything I owned was in the car. And there was lots of room left over. Sleeping on their couch and hearing them in the throes of passion gave me a lot of masturbation material, but didn't really help. Chris was average height, but with long slim legs. Her hair was always casually messy, a kind of dishwater blonde. Her tits usually went without benefit of a bra (remember this was the '70's -- hardly any woman under thirty wore a bra), and were a wonder to watch. They weren't overly large, but they seemed to have some different type of suspension the way they flowed and jiggled when she walked, or even laughed. She laughed a lot. I had a crush on her from the time Jerry had introduced us. She was an incorrigible flirt. Their rented house was four rooms and a bath. One bedroom was off the entry and was used for storage. No bed there. To the left was the living room, the kitchen beyond. Their bedroom was off the kitchen and one had to pass through their room to reach the bathroom. I'm not sure if their bedroom had a door, or if they just never closed it. Naturally there had been a lot of times when I needed to use the bathroom during the night. Several times I was treated to the sight of Chris's exposed tits and/or ass. Jerry slept next to the wall and was always covered. That just about describes the differences between their personalities, too. I never understood how they had managed to get together. One night, after I'd been there for about a month, I lay in the dark and listened to Chris coming for the second time that night. They seemed to be finished -- or at least resting. My dick was standing at attention. I always tried to imagine how it looked when they fucked. It always got me hot and always got me off. After a few minutes of quiet, broken occasionally by whispers in their room, Chris's voice called, "Dave? You still awake?" I was torn between answering or pretending I slept so soundly that hadn't heard them fucking. "Yeah," I answered. "Do you want to come and play with us?" Did I want to? Shit, yes I wanted to! "Sure," I answered, and rose from the couch. I had already ditched my underwear, so I entered the candle-lit bedroom naked. The blankets were in a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed. Chris lay on her back with Jerry between her legs. His head was resting on her sweaty belly. The aroma of sex was thick in the room. Chris's eyes lit up and she grinned when she looked at my hard cock bouncing out, eager for her attention. She didn't smack her lips, but she licked them. I walked to the edge of the bed and Chris wrapped her fingers around me. She pulled me to her mouth and plunged my entire length inside. She is the only woman I have ever met who either could do that (or at least that was willing to risk choking herself to do it ) . I glanced at Jerry's face. "You sure you're okay with this, man?" I asked him. His eyes were glued to the sight of his wife giving me head. He just nodded. 'Okay' I figured, 'let's go'. I took one of Chris's breasts in hand. I fingered and pinched and rolled the nipple. She rewarded me with a groan and increased the suction. After a few minutes I had to sit down. My legs were shaking and it distracted from the pleasure. When I put a knee on the mattress next to Chris's naked hip, Jerry obligingly rolled to the far side. He sat up and lit a joint. He sat cross-legged and watched. Chris had room to move now, so she pulled me down and positioned herself between my legs. Her mouth returned to my dick and she fondled my balls while I lay there in heaven. I loved it, but I wanted to fuck her. Before I could say or do anything to rearrange us, she moved her hand back to my asshole. Another first. Until then, I thought my asshole was just, well, an asshole. Chris proved me wrong. I jumped when she touched it, and a shock ran through me. She chuckled around my cock and removed her hand, dipping it between her own legs. When her finger returned, I realized she had coated it with the come oozing from her cunt. She quickly poked it into me. There was no way I could stop the freight train of my orgasm. I blasted her mouth and she swallowed every drop. She sat up with a self-satisfied smile on her face. Then she leaned forward and kissed me, then Jerry, sharing my come with both of us! Another first. We smoked the joint and got down to some serious fucking. While Chris was riding me, Jerry sucked on her tits. He reached over and put a finger on either side of my cock to feel it ramming into his wife's sloppy pussy. Jerry had some staying power. I know he had fucked her twice before I joined them, then we both fucked her two times afterward. With the blowjobs in between, I came four times that night. Jerry must have come at least six. The night had held one more new experience, for me anyway. After the first time I fucked her and Jerry had taken my place She sucked me while he fucked her. When he had come again, she pulled my head down to her crotch. I rubbed my face into the sticky mess there, reveling in the debauchery of tasting all that come. I used my tongue and lips to clean her up, tasting the familiar musk of woman mixed with the acidic tang of semen - both mine and Jerry's. It gave me another erection and I rose up to fuck her. She licked the mess from my face and groaned through another orgasm. I don't know how many times Chris came that night, but I know her tally was higher than either mine or Jerry's. That was the only time the three of us got together. Jerry and I talked about it the next day. He said he had enjoyed it, but didn't want to repeat it. Unfortunately for them, Chris didn't share his reluctance. Neither did I. What Jerry didn't realize was that once those doors were opened, it was very hard to close them again. Chris and Jerry worked at the same place, but sometimes had different schedules. Whenever Jerry was working, Chris and I were in bed. Or on the floor, or some semi-secluded place in the city where we could fuck with only a slight chance of being discovered. This was the Great Northwest, and there was no lack of tree-covered parks around. Under the sweep of an old evergreen's boughs, a lot can take place without anyone noticing. But I began to feel guilty, violating my friendship with Jerry. I told Chris we had to stop. She didn't want to. Whenever Jerry walked out the door to work, she walked out of the bedroom naked. The fact that I sometimes had to listen to them having sex in the mornings always made it more difficult for me to deny her. We just kept on fucking. A larger problem than the infidelity and my betrayal of Jerry's hospitality and friendship was the fact that Chris and I were falling in love. She began talking about divorcing Jerry. I knew I had to leave if I wanted to end it. I went to Alaska -- the wild and untamed frontier, even then. Working and making big money went to my head. I was really full of myself -- cocky, the way only a 23-year-old guy can be. I'd been there through the summer season and went back home, back from the Frontier, my pockets full of money. When I visited Jerry and Chris, they introduced me to Marti. She had long bleached blonde hair and round tits that just screamed to be grabbed. She knew it, too. She was living with Jim at the time, a kind of weasly looking guy who couldn't seem to hold a job very long. Marti was supporting him. Part of the problem with his job-seeking was his habit of starting the day with a joint and a couple hits of speed -- just to get going, you understand. Marti knew all about the way things had been when I'd lived with Jerry and Chris. In fact, Chris had brought Marti into their life. Maybe she felt guilty about our affair, too, because she had arranged for Jerry to fuck Marti a couple of times while I'd been gone and before she moved in with Jim. Anyway, for the next month the five of us hung out together. Chris and I didn't have sex again -- then. About a week before I was to leave, Marti, Chris and I were sitting around getting stoned and talking. Chris looked at me. "You should take Marti back with you, Dave. Jim's such a loser and she is so cool. The two of you would make a good couple." I looked at Marti. She smiled back at me. Then she leaned over and kissed me, sliding her hand into my crotch. My dick began to swell and she didn't let go. She called Jim and told him she was staying over because she was too ripped to drive. While I'd been in Alaska that summer, Jerry had cleared out the second bedroom and they bought a used single size bed from the Salvation Army store. Marti and I fucked our brains out there that night. A week later we left for Alaska together. We had agreed that, while we would be nominally monogamous, we could step outside the boundaries sometimes and it was okay. All we had to do was let the other one know beforehand. As it turned out, neither of us did. But the arrangement was put to the test one night. We were in a local bar when some girls from Canada came in. I knew them because my job took me to the town just over the border where they worked. I met these girls because I always ate in the restaurant where they worked. One of them, Sue, a short, very, very desirable brunette, had found a place in my heart -- or at least in my pants. We'd flirted but never done anything. I danced with Marti, then a few dances with Sue. When I went back to my table where Marti was sitting, I told her I wanted to fuck Sue. Well, that was when the 'arrangement' went south. She stood up, fuming. "Fine! Go ahead! Maybe I'll be home when you get there, and maybe I won't!" She stormed out of the bar. Sue had witnessed the scene, as had everybody else in the place. Lots of laughter all around. My face was as red as if I'd been standing next to a stove. 'This wasn't the way it was supposed to be,' I thought. So I went to the table where Sue was sitting with her friends. She said she didn't want to get between anybody, so we never had the chance to taste each other. That was the middle of September. The season was winding down, and things were definitely getting 'cooler' at home. So I was more than willing when Marti said she wanted to go visit her family. She left. When the "Termination Dust" (the first new snow on the mountain peaks) began to fall, I packed up all of our stuff and put it on a barge headed south. I wasn't sure I would return, but I knew Marti wouldn't. I went home. The three big boxes were sitting in my parents' garage. I loaded them into my car and went to Marti's mother's house, where she was living. I opened each box and began separating her stuff from mine (I had been in too big a hurry to do it when I packed). Marti watched, setting her stuff aside as it surfaced. "Are we breaking up?" she calmly asked me. I looked at her. She was sad, but I was determined. It wasn't only that she had defaulted on our agreement. The relationship had paled anyway. I confirmed that our relationship was over. "I guess I fucked up, huh?" The tears began to ooze silently from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. We hugged and kissed once more. We talked as we finished dividing our possessions. I can't remember what I told her. I know I didn't tell her the truth, that she just didn't turn me on any more. We parted. We didn't part angrily, however. I found work for the rest of that winter in a town just east of the mountain range that divides the state. I was living in a cheap motel that had weekly rates. On weekends, I would drive home and party with Jerry, Chris, and other friends, both old and new. Occasionally, Marti would show up and we'd ways spend some time together. One day, I got a call at my motel room. It was Marti asking if she could come visit for a couple of days. I told her it would be fine with me. When she got there, it became clear that she was trying to start things up again. While I knew I didn't want that, I also wasn't averse to some sex-for-old-time's-sake. Apparently that was good enough for her, as well. She had arrived on a Wednesday. When Saturday rolled around I told her I was planning on going home for the weekend. She sucked me off and we fucked before I watched her drive away. I threw some clothes in the car and drove over the mountains to Jerry and Chris's house. They had moved closer to their work and bought a one bedroom house. Jerry was at work when I got there. Chris was still in bed, aving worked late the night before. She heard me come in and called out to me. I stuck my head in the bedroom door. She held her arms out to me. I went to her. She kissed me and began unbuttoning my shirt. It was as if the past months had been a dream. The love we had was still there and as alive as ever. Sex with other people -- Jerry for her and Marti and a couple of others for me -- wasn't part of the equation and didn't interfere with what we felt. I slipped under the sheet next to her. She was hot and sweaty. She smelled of sex and I knew she had fucked Jerry before he had left for work. I dove between her thighs and inhaled the heady scent. I licked and sucked at her folds, fully aware that I was drinking Jerry's come and hers. As it had that first time, and all the times I ate my own come from her afterward, it only served to make my cock all that much harder. We fucked and sucked our way to the afternoon. About 2:00, Chris said we had to get dressed. She was expecting another girlfriend of hers to come by. We showered together and dressed. Chris told me all about the situation while we made and ate lunch. Dessert, as usual, was a joint or two. Susan had been married briefly to a friend of Jerry's. She had divorced him when she caught him in bed with another man. It had made her doubt her attractiveness and sexual desirability. She'd been partying a lot since the divorce. Chris had invited her out to the house to spend some time and hopefully decompress a little bit. Susan parked her Volkswagen next to my big Pontiac in the driveway. She was wearing sandals, bell-bottoms and a flowered peasant blouse. One of the " '70's uniforms", in other words. She pulled a big duffel kind of bag from the back seat and swayed to the door. Her tits were very big, round and unharnessed. Introductions were made and we all shared the communion of a joint. We listened to music and 'rapped' for a couple of hours. Jerry arrived from work and we had spaghetti, garlic bread and wine. And more dope. When bedtime rolled around, Jerry and Chris went off to their room. Susan refused the couch, insisting on the floor in her sleeping bag. After a half hour, I told her she could share the couch with me. She countered by inviting me to the floor. "There's more room to roll around here," she added. I threw off the blanket and rose up naked. She opened the bag and rolled onto her back, her legs spreading and lifting high in the air in welcome. Her pubic hair was the densest and darkest I'd ever seen. But her pussy was also the sweetest and most lubricated. She wrapped her legs around my waist and I slipped easily inside her. She grunted like an animal with each thrust. When she came, she screamed, exactly as if she was in some dire pain. Jerry ran out of the bedroom, his cock bobbing in front of him, dripping with Chris's juices. He had a baseball bat in his hand. Chris's laughter echoed behind him. She knew Susan's tendencies, but hadn't been quick enough to stop him from running out to the rescue. When he realized it was just an orgasm he'd heard, he watched us fuck for a minute then went back to bed. I lifted Susan's legs over my shoulders and pounded her hard. Our fucking drove us half off the opened sleeping bag. She gripped my forearms hard when her second orgasm hit her. Another scream and the clenching muscles of her pussy sucked my come from me. We lay there panting. Only then did I feel the abrasions on my knees from the canvas of the sleeping bag. I had rugburns on my knees for two weeks afterward. Susan told me her story that night. I'd already heard it, but knew she needed to tell me herself. Her ex-husband was unashamed when she caught him. He invited her to join him and his male lover, but she had ranted and gone ballistic. Finally she threw the two of them out. That was the only time in my life that I've ever had three separate lovers in one day. Susan and I woke to the sunshine streaming through the windows. Her skin was pale, in contrast to her dark hair. I circled a nipple with my finger as we lay there talking. I rolled between her legs again, and once again she presented herself to me with her legs raised high. It was almost as if she thought that was the only position to have. I slipped inside her, but we weren't urgent. I was slow in my movements. The sex was secondary, but somehow necessary. I lowered her legs and rolled us over. She sat up and rode me slowly as we talked. When Chris stepped naked from the bedroom to go to the kitchen for a drink of water, we just said good morning and continued what we were doing. I thought I saw something pass across Chris's face, but she pushed it away. On her return, she stopped and talked to us a minute. It was a strange feeling for me. Other than the one time with Chris and Jerry, I'd never had an audience for sex. I watched Chris as she and Susan talked. Her eyes went frequently to Susan's crotch, usually remaining there for several strokes. Her hand drifted to her lap and in between her thighs. She didn't exactly start masturbating, but I could tell that she was getting hot watching us. It probably helped that she knew exactly what Susan was feeling since she had been astride me the same way in the past. Chris smiled at us then, and went back to bed. A few minutes later we heard sexual sounds from the bedroom. Shortly, Chris, too, cried out in orgasm. I thought she seemed more noisy than usual, as if she was letting us -- or me anyway -- know that she was coming. It all caused Susan and I to attend more energy to our own fucking. Susan didn't come that morning, even though I did everything I knew how to help her. Even sucking my come from her didn't do it, though she got close. Susan and I shared the floor for another night before I had to go back to work. She drifted up to the northern part of the state and got involved with some kind of commune that didn't believe in toilet paper. They had rags they used and laundered every day instead. I'm not sure what else they believed or disbelieved. For me that was enough to make me want to stay away. Jerry and Chris stayed together another two years. I returned to Alaska and the job became year-round. On another visit home, in a game of cards with Jerry and Chris, I lost. I had been trying to get them to come to Alaska for a visit, but they couldn't afford it. So I had made that the bet for the game. I don't remember what they had bet against the plane tickets. A few months later, I got a call from them. Jerry said that he couldn't get away right then, but Chris wanted to come up. He could wait and come up later by himself. I felt kind of ambivalent about it. I'd wanted my affair with my friend's wife to be over. But he was sending her up to me by herself. Flashback Forrty years ago, in the freewheeling '70's, casual sex was a lot different than today. Those of you who were there know what I mean. Those of you who have come of age under the shadow of AIDS and HIV cannot understand. There were still serious threats, but nothing that was absolutely life threatening waiting between the legs of your next lover. I'd given college a try right out of high school, rather than going to the University of Vietnam. Fortunately, by the time I'd dropped out of school a couple of years later, the laws had changed and the draft avoided me. I was in my 20's. I had been through one disastrous marriage and divorce. Not having any immediate goals or plans, other than to find work, I was invited to room with a couple I'd known before. Jerry and I had gone to college together for a while. He had gotten his degree and married Chris. So I parked my '62 Pontiac (a real boat of a car) in front of their house and slept on the couch. Everything I owned was in the car. And there was lots of room left over. Sleeping on their couch and hearing them in the throes of passion gave me a lot of masturbation material, but didn't really help. Chris was average height, but with long slim legs. Her hair was always casually messy, a kind of dishwater blonde. Her tits usually went without benefit of a bra (remember this was the '70's -- hardly any woman under thirty wore a bra), and her tits were a wonder to watch. They weren't overly large, but they seemed to have some different type of suspension the way they flowed and jiggled when she walked, or even laughed. She laughed a lot. I had a crush on her from the time Jerry had introduced us. She was an incorrigible flirt. Their rented house was four rooms and a bath. One bedroom was off the entry and was used for storage. No bed there. To the left was the living room, the kitchen beyond. Their bedroom was off the kitchen and one had to pass through their room to reach the bathroom. I'm not sure if their bedroom had a door, or if they just never closed it. Naturally there had been a lot of times when I needed to use the bathroom during the night. Several times I was treated to the sight of Chris's exposed tits and/or ass. Jerry slept next to the wall and was always covered. That just about describes the differences between their personalities, too. I never understood how they had managed to get together. One night, after I'd been there for about a month, I lay in the dark and listened to Chris coming for the second time that night. They seemed to be finished -- or at least resting. My dick was standing at attention. I always tried to imagine how it looked when they fucked. It always got me hot and always got me off. After a few minutes of quiet, broken occasionally by whispers in their room, Chris's voice called, "Dave? You still awake?" I was torn between answering or pretending I slept so soundly that hadn't heard them fucking. "Yeah," I answered. "Do you want to come and play with us?" Did I want to? Shit, yes I wanted to! "Sure," I answered, and rose from the couch. I had already ditched my underwear, so I entered the candle-lit bedroom naked. The blankets were in a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed. Chris lay on her back with Jerry between her legs. His head was resting on her sweaty belly. The aroma of sex was thick in the room. Chris's eyes lit up and she grinned when she looked at my hard cock bouncing out, eager for her attention. She didn't smack her lips, but she licked them. I walked to the edge of the bed and Chris wrapped her fingers around my erection. She pulled me to her mouth and plunged my entire length inside. She is the only woman I have ever met who could do that (or at least that was willing to risk choking herself to do it). I glanced at Jerry's face. "You sure you're okay with this, man?" I asked him. His eyes were glued to the sight of his wife giving me head. He just nodded. 'Okay' I figured, 'let's go'. I took one of Chris's breasts in hand. I fingered and pinched and rolled the nipple. She rewarded me with a groan and increased the suction. After a few minutes I had to sit down. My legs were shaking and it distracted from the pleasure. When I put a knee on the mattress next to Chris's naked hip, Jerry obligingly rolled to the far side. He sat up and lit a joint. He sat cross-legged and watched. Chris had room to move now, so she pulled me down and positioned herself between my legs. Her mouth returned to my dick and she fondled my balls while I lay there in heaven. I loved it, but I wanted to fuck her. Before I could say or do anything to rearrange us, she moved her hand back to my asshole. Another first. Until then, I thought my asshole was just, well, an asshole. Chris proved me wrong. I jumped when she touched it, and a shock ran through me. She chuckled around my cock and removed her hand, dipping it between her own legs. When her finger returned, I realized she had coated it with the come oozing from her cunt. She quickly poked it into me. There was no way I could stop the freight train of my orgasm. I blasted her mouth and she swallowed every drop. She sat up with a self-satisfied smile on her face. Then she leaned forward and kissed first me and then Jerry, sharing my come with both of us! We smoked the joint and got down to some serious fucking. While Chris was riding me, Jerry sucked on her tits. He reached over and put a finger on either side of my cock to feel it ramming into his wife's sloppy pussy. Jerry had some staying power. I know he had fucked her twice before I joined them, then we both fucked her two times afterward. With the blowjobs in between, I came four times that night. Jerry must have come at least six. The night held one more new experience, for me anyway. After the first time I fucked her and Jerry had taken my place she sucked me while he fucked her. When he had come again, she pulled my head down to her crotch. I rubbed my face into the sticky mess there, reveling in the debauchery of tasting all that come. I used my tongue and lips to clean her up, tasting the familiar musk of woman mixed with the acidic tang of semen - both mine and Jerry's. It gave me another erection and I rose up to fuck her. She licked the mess from my face and groaned through another orgasm. I don't know how many times Chris came that night, but I know her tally was higher than mine and Jerry's combined. That was the only time the three of us got together. Jerry and I talked about it the next day. He said he had enjoyed it, but didn't want to repeat it. Unfortunately for them, Chris didn't share his reluctance. Neither did I. What Jerry didn't realize was that once those doors were opened, it became impossible to close them again. Chris and Jerry worked at the same place, but sometimes had different schedules. Whenever Jerry was working, Chris and I were in bed, or on the floor, or some semi-secluded place in the city where we could fuck with only a slight chance of being discovered. This was the Great Northwest, and there was no lack of tree-covered parks around. Under the sweep of an old evergreen's boughs, a lot can take place without anyone noticing. But I began to feel guilty, violating my friendship with Jerry. I told Chris we had to stop. She didn't want to. Whenever Jerry walked out the door to work, she walked out of the bedroom naked. The fact that I sometimes had to listen to them having sex in the mornings always made it more difficult for me to deny her. We just kept on fucking. A larger problem than the infidelity and my betrayal of Jerry's hospitality and friendship was the fact that Chris and I were falling in love. She began talking about divorcing Jerry. I knew I had to leave if I wanted to end it. I went to Alaska -- the wild and untamed frontier, even then. Working and making big money went to my head. I was really full of myself -- cocky, the way only a 23-year-old guy can be. I'd been there through the summer season and went back home, back from the Frontier, my pockets full of money. When I visited Jerry and Chris, they introduced me to Mandy. She had long bleached blonde hair and round tits that just screamed to be grabbed. She knew it, too. She was living with Jim at the time, a kind of weasely looking guy who couldn't seem to hold a job very long. Mandy was supporting him. Part of the problem with his job-seeking was his habit of starting the day with a joint and a couple hits of speed -- just to get going, you understand. Mandy knew all about the way things had been when I'd lived with Jerry and Chris. In fact, Chris had brought Mandy into their life. Maybe she felt guilty about our affair, too, because she had arranged for Jerry to fuck Mandy a couple of times while I'd been gone and before she moved in with Jim. Anyway, for the next month the five of us hung out together. Chris and I didn't have sex again -- then. About a week before I was to leave, Mandy, Chris and I were sitting around getting stoned and talking. Chris looked at me. "You should take Mandy back with you, Dave. Jim's such a loser and she is so cool. The two of you would make a good couple." I looked at Mandy. She smiled back at me. Then she leaned over and kissed me, sliding her hand into my crotch. My dick began to swell and she didn't let go. She called Jim and told him she was staying over because she was too ripped to drive. While I'd been in Alaska that summer, Jerry had cleared out the second bedroom and they bought a used single size bed from the Salvation Army store. Mandy and I fucked our brains out there that night. A week later we left for Alaska together. We had agreed that, while we would be nominally monogamous, we could step outside the boundaries sometimes and it was okay. All we had to do was let the other one know beforehand. As it turned out, neither of us did. But the arrangement was put to the test one night. We were in a local bar when some girls from Canada came in. I knew them because my job took me to the town just over the border. I met these girls because I always ate in the restaurant where they worked. One of them, Sue, a short, very, very desirable brunette, had found a place in my heart -- or at least in my fantasies. We'd flirted but never done anything. I danced with Mandy, then a few dances with Sue. When I went back to my table where Mandy was sitting, I told her I wanted to fuck Sue. Well, that was when the 'arrangement' went south. She stood up, fuming. "Fine! Go ahead! Maybe I'll be home when you get there, and maybe I won't!" She stormed out of the bar. Sue had witnessed the scene, as had everybody else in the place. Lots of laughter all around. My face was as red as if I'd been standing next to a stove. 'This wasn't the way it was supposed to be, ' I thought. So I went to the table where Sue was sitting with her friends. She said she didn't want to get between anybody, so we never had the chance to taste each other. That was the middle of September. The season was winding down, and things were definitely getting 'cooler' at home. So I was more than willing when Mandy said she wanted to go visit her family. She left. When the "Termination Dust" (the Alaskan term for the first new snow on the mountain peaks) began to fall, I packed up all of our stuff and put it on a barge headed south. I wasn't sure I would return, but I knew Mandy wouldn't — at least under the same circumstances. I went home. The three big boxes were sitting in my parents' garage. I loaded them into my car and went to Mandy's mother's house, where she was living. I opened each box and began separating her stuff from mine (I had been in too big a hurry to do it when I packed). Mandy watched, setting her stuff aside as it surfaced. "We're breaking up aren't we?" she calmly asked me. I looked at her. She was sad, but I was determined. It wasn't only that she had defaulted on our agreement. The relationship had paled anyway. I confirmed that our relationship was over. "I guess I fucked up, huh?" The tears began to ooze silently from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. We hugged and kissed once more. We talked as we finished dividing our possessions. I can't remember what I told her. I know I didn't tell her the truth, that she just didn't turn me on any more. We parted. We didn't part angrily, however. I found work for the rest of that winter in a town just east of the mountain range that divides the state. I was living in a cheap motel that had weekly rates. On weekends, I would drive home and party with Jerry, Chris, and other friends, both old and new. Occasionally, Mandy would show up and we'd always spend some time together. One day, I got a call at my motel room. It was Mandy asking if she could come and visit me for a couple of days. I told her it would be fine with me. When she got there, it became clear that she was trying to start things up again. While I knew I didn't want that, I also wasn't averse to some sex-for-old-time's-sake. Apparently that was good enough for her, as well. She had arrived on a Wednesday. When Saturday rolled around I told her I was planning on going home for the weekend. She sucked me off and we fucked before I watched her drive away. I threw some clothes in the car and drove over the mountains to Jerry and Chris's house. They had moved closer to their work and bought a one bedroom house. Jerry was at work when I got there. Chris was still in bed, having worked late the night before. She heard me come in and called out to me. I stuck my head in the bedroom door. She held her arms out to me. I went to her. She kissed me and began unbuttoning my shirt. It was as if the past months had been a dream. The love we had was still there and as alive as ever. Sex with other people -- Jerry for her and Mandy and a couple of others for me -- wasn't part of the equation and didn't interfere with what we felt. I slipped under the sheet next to her. She was hot and sweaty. She smelled of sex and I knew she had fucked Jerry before he had left for work. I dove between her thighs and inhaled the heady scent. I licked and sucked at her folds, fully aware that I was drinking Jerry's come and hers. As it had that first time, and all the times I ate my own come from her afterward, it only served to make my cock all that much harder. We fucked and sucked our way to the afternoon. About 2:00, Chris said we had to get dressed. She was expecting another girlfriend of hers to come by. We showered together and dressed. Chris told me all about the situation while we made and ate lunch. Dessert, as usual, was a joint or two. Susan had been married briefly to a friend of Jerry's. She had divorced him when she caught him in bed with another man. It had made her doubt her attractiveness and sexual desirability. She'd been partying a lot since the divorce. Chris had invited her out to the house to spend some time and hopefully decompress a little bit. Susan parked her Volkswagen next to my big Pontiac in the driveway. She was wearing sandals, bell-bottoms and a flowered peasant blouse. One of the "70's uniforms", in other words. She pulled a big duffel kind of bag from the back seat and swayed to the door. She had butt-length dark hair and her tits were very big, round and (naturally) unharnessed. Introductions were made and we all shared the communion of a joint. We listened to music and 'rapped' for a couple of hours. Jerry arrived from work and we had spaghetti, garlic bread and wine. And more dope. When bedtime rolled around, Jerry and Chris went off to their room. Susan refused the couch, insisting on the living room floor in her sleeping bag. After half an hour, I told her she could share the couch with me. She countered by inviting me to the floor. "There's more room to roll around here," she added. I threw off the blanket and rose up naked. She opened the bag and rolled onto her back, her legs spreading and lifting high in the air in welcome. Her pubic hair was the densest and darkest I'd ever seen. But her pussy was also the sweetest and most well lubricated. She wrapped her legs around my waist and I slipped easily inside her. She grunted like an animal with each thrust. When she came, she screamed, exactly as if she was in some dire pain. Jerry ran out of the bedroom, his cock bobbing in front of him, dripping with Chris's juices. He had a baseball bat in his hand. Chris's laughter echoed behind him. She knew Susan's tendencies, but hadn't been quick enough to stop him from running out to the rescue. When he realized it was just an orgasm he'd heard, he watched us fuck for a minute then went back to bed. I lifted Susan's legs over my shoulders and pounded her hard. Our fucking drove us half off the opened sleeping bag. She gripped my forearms hard when her second orgasm hit her. Another scream and the clenching muscles of her pussy sucked my come from me. We lay there panting. Only then did I feel the abrasions on my knees from the canvas of the sleeping bag. I had rugburns on my knees for two weeks afterward. Susan told me her story that night. I'd already heard it, but knew she needed to tell me herself. Her ex-husband was unashamed when she caught him. He invited her to join him and his male lover, but she had ranted and gone ballistic. Finally she threw the two of them out. That was the only time in my life that I've ever had three separate lovers in one day. Susan and I woke to the sunshine streaming through the windows. Her skin was pale, in contrast to her dark hair. I circled a nipple with my finger as we lay there talking. I rolled between her legs again, and once again she presented herself to me with her legs raised high. It was almost as if she thought that was the only position to have. I slipped inside her, but we weren't urgent. I was slow in my movements. The sex was secondary, but somehow necessary. I lowered her legs and rolled us over. She sat up and rode me slowly as we talked. When Chris stepped naked from the bedroom to go to the kitchen for a drink of water, we just said good morning and continued what we were doing. I thought I saw something pass across Chris's face, but she pushed it away. On her return, she stopped and talked to us a minute. It was a strange feeling for me. Other than the one time with Chris and Jerry, I'd never had an audience for sex. I watched Chris as she and Susan talked. Her eyes went frequently to Susan's crotch, usually remaining there for several strokes. Her hand drifted to her lap and in between her thighs. She didn't exactly start masturbating, but I could tell that she was getting hot watching us. It probably helped that she knew exactly what Susan was feeling since she had been astride me the same way in the past. Chris smiled at us then, and went back to bed. A few minutes later we heard sexual sounds from the bedroom. Shortly, Chris, too, cried out in orgasm. I thought she seemed more noisy than usual, as if she was letting us -- or me anyway -- know that she was coming. It all caused Susan and me to attend more energy to our own fucking. Susan didn't come that morning; even though I did everything I knew how to help her. Even sucking my come from her didn't do it, though she got close. Susan and I shared the floor for another night before I had to go back to work. She drifted up to the northern part of the state and got involved with some kind of commune that didn't believe in toilet paper. They had rags they used and laundered every day instead. I'm not sure what else they believed or disbelieved. For me that was enough to make me want to stay away. Jerry and Chris stayed together another two years. I returned to Alaska and the job became year-round. On another visit home, in a game of cards with Jerry and Chris, I lost. I had been trying to get them to come to Alaska for a visit, but they couldn't afford it. So I had made that the bet for the game. I don't remember what they had bet against the plane tickets. A few months later, I got a call from them. Jerry said that he couldn't get away right then, but Chris wanted to come up. He could wait and come up later by himself. I felt kind of ambivalent about it. I'd wanted my affair with my friend's wife to be over. But he was sending her up to me by herself. Flashback Chris's visit was great. Of course we had great sex. But I also told her that I wanted to tell Jerry about it -- all of it. She disagreed. Two weeks after her visit, Jerry came up. It's a small town. All my Alaskan friends knew Chris and Jerry were married. While Chris was there, we made no attempt to hide our relationship. When Jerry was there, he later said he had sensed some kind of tension around in the air. While Jerry was visiting me, I wrote Chris a letter, expecting her to receive it before his return. Unfortunately, I was wrong. The next I heard from either of them after Jerry left was a call from Chris. She told me that she had picked Jerry up from the airport and gone on to work, dropping him off at home. My letter arrived the same day. Jerry opened it and read it before she got home from work. They'd argued and decided it was time for them to move on. She asked me if I'd help her pay for the divorce and she could come back up to live with me. I told her I thought I should distance myself from them both for a while. When she had gotten divorced and everything was settled, we could talk about whether we had a future together. They divorced. I met a new woman and fell for her. We made a trip home and Jerry said he wanted us to join him and Chris for lunch. They were still friendly, he said. I accepted. At the table he told me how he felt about it all. I had no choice but to sit there and take it. He didn't get angry, didn't yell. Just told me what a shitty friend I was. He did give me credit for all my attempts to end it, and for wanting to us to confess our disloyalty and infidelity. It says something about his attitude toward Chris that he made the remark, "It would have been different if you had someone to offer in return." I suppose their marriage hadn't had much of a chance even without my interference. I returned to Alaska. Chris did eventually come north, but we were definitely finished. She married a guy and had a daughter. Jerry also remarried and has at least one child. I've lost contact with them for the last twenty years or so. I've been through two more marriages that ended in divorce. I'm now on my fourth wife. The one who will really be around until 'death do us part'. I've never been the 'other man' again, nor have I ever been unfaithful in any of the relationships in which I've been involved. That's as much of my story as I want to tell right now. It's all true. I make no excuses for past indiscretions. It's just the way it was then, and the way things happened for me. I was, at the time, able to rationalize everything. Now I am able to see it all more clearly.