0 comments/ 7642 views/ 2 favorites The Leaning Curve By: pandsal This is a largely true story. The two people are known to us and have asked us to write it for them. They want to let others know that if you focus on exactly what you want, and are patient, it can happen. We have obviously changed names and one or two other details to protect their identity. There is more which we are allowed to tell if readers would like it. We needed your feedback: tell us what you like about the story (if you do) and what it does for you. If there is the right response, we will work on the sequel. Meanwhile, this is THE LEARNING CURVE ********************************************** We had fucked for nearly an hour and it had been good. It aways was. We knew how to make it last. Melissa came three times. First with my mouth, our favourite warm-up routine. Then it was my turn. Mel turned on to her knees ready to be mounted doggy fashion. My cock slipped in easily. With each withdrawal my glistening shaft showed the moisture she always generates so easily. When we were ready to move on, she needed only a little assistance from her fingers to take her over the top. The finale might seem surprising: Mel on her back ready to be taken in the missionary position. The problem for most men, I suspect, is that they work up speed quite quickly, and when they do that it is easy to lose control and everything is over in no time. And that leaves the other half in need of help in order not to be disappointed; at worst, that can mean d-i-y. Not for us. I am forty-seven and Mel is five years younger. We started from a good base in both having strong sex drives. But we have worked at getting better. We talk about what works, experiment, encourage each other. Since Karen, our daughter, left for Australia and New Zealand on her gap year, we've had more opportunity. So on this occasion, we dropped easily into our tried and tested method. Mel drew her knees up and opened wide. I knelt between them, hooked my arms into the crook of her knees and eased my cock into her open cunt, then held it there while she enjoyed the pressure and I acclimatised to the warm wetness. From that point, everything depends on understanding and co-operation: vary the speed - slow-quick-slow-rest-start again; vary the thrust, inch-by-inch insinuation followed by a spell of fierce full-length driving; vary the angle - wide open for depth of penetration, knees higher and closer together for grip; and plenty of talking. Mel is blessed with a prominent clitoris so I make sure there is plenty of friction, especially when she lets me know she is ready to let go. Simultaneous orgasm is a bit of a myth in our experience. Sometimes it happens but that's luck. We try to get Mel off first. That way she doesn't need her fingers while I am doing my best with a detumescing member. This time we were really in harmony. After she suggested she was ready, I managed to ride her for some minutes with increasing tempo and power, sensing the build-up in my balls but still in control, until her arse rose off the bed and the moans became a cry and I knew she had made it. A few more thrusts and I started to empty myself into her. So after an hour we were ready for a rest. It was a Tuesday afternoon. Mel had no commitments until a five o'clcock staff meeting at the college where she is Head of the Modern Languages department. I had told my secretary I would be with a client (I have a small financial services company) and didn't want to take calls on my mobile. This happens occasionally when Mel is free; I think my secretary believes I have a mistress. In a sense, I do. She just happens to be my ultra sexy wife. While recuperating, Mel likes to roll on to her right side, while I curl into her back, my cock nestling in the crack of her arse. Usually, I cup her tits with my left hand, but on this occasion she took it and guided it between her legs where her groin was still slick with oozing moisture. I was half dozing when she said, "When we were really getting going just now ..." "Yes?" "You said, suppose - " I remembered but said nothing. "You said, suppose this was Geoff." Geoff is my squash partner and best friend. I said, "I wasn't serious." "I know. You said it because you wondered if it might help. It's the kind of thing we are good at, isn't it?" "I don't think any man wants to imagine his wife being fucked by his best friend." "Or even see it?" Mel asked quietly. Then I remembered. We had recently watched a video called One Flew Over the Cuckold's Nest, and that was what she was getting at. A blonde being vigorously shafted while her husband wanked and took photographs. I felt I needed to squash this line of thought. "Not what you are suggesting, is it?" "Absolutely not. But suppose - " She left the the thought hanging, but I didn't know where it was leading. "Suppose - what?" "Suppose it wasn't another man - " "You mean you watching me with another woman?" "No. Definitely not that. But suppose it was me - with another woman?" If I had wanted to conceal my reaction, my cock let me down. Mel felt it hardening against her arse, and had her answer. But I needed to know a bit more. "A game, you mean? A new scenario?" We had several that served us well. Mel waited a while before saying, "No. For real. It's meant to be a big turn-on for men, isn't it? Watching two women. And afterwards you might get to to fuck us both, one after the other. Me second." I admit I was aroused and pressed my cock harder against her. But when I started to move my fingers into her folds, she stopped me. She said, "From all I read, many more women than you might think are bi - or interested in finding out." "And you?" "I've been thinking about it a lot lately. But it would have to be that way - so you could watch and then have something yourself." When I didn't reply, she pressed her arse against me, pushed my fingers into her cunt to show me she was ready to start again. But not until she said, "Can we think about it? Talk about it later? It wouldn't be easy to organise." "I'm sure you're right. Do you have someone in mind?" "No." "OK. But if you think it would be good, let's try." "I think I'd like to. But right now I can think of something else I'd like to try. Can you get in from there?" I raised her left leg, released my cock from her buttocks and fed it into her. "Now fuck me," said Mel. "Hard" ********************************************** Waiting for Mel to return, I raided her knicker drawer and chose a pair in scarlet silk - from another of our games. I settled to watch the early evening news, knowing it would be read by a woman who often appeared in our fantasy sessions. I wrapped them round my cock and began slowly stroking, wondering if our earlier conversation had any relevance. That was how Mel found me when she came home. Taking in the situation immediately, she kissed me on the forehead, kicked off her shoes and unzipped her skirt. I made room for her beside me on the sofa, and watched with pleasure as her fingers, sliding inside the waistband of the black knickers she had worn to the meeting, began their sensual movement. "You OK?" she asked. "I'm good. Not long started. Can you catch up?" "I'm trying. Should have thought of this - after what we said. You knew it would be her." "Yes, I was picturing her bent over the desk, fucking her from behind.. We can talk about it later." "You hard?" "Yes, very, now you're here. You wet?" "Of course." With eyes on the screen we grew silent, concentrating on our handiwork. Soon Mel was breathing very quickly. I was surprised she seemed almost ready. Until I heard her say, "Would be good if she was the one." "You still want to find out - about yourself - don't you?" "Yes, and I want you to be there when it happens." She glanced down to where my hand and the silk knickers were working their magic. "Come for me now. I'm ready." So many images were in my mind as my wanking began the drive for ejaculation. This time I made it before Mel, but not by much. She came quite noisily. Then, easing back, she said, "Can I see?" I removed the knickers and showed her the spreading stain. "Good," she said, slipping off the pair she was wearing and handing them to me. I held them to my face inhaling the evidence that it had been good for her, too. ********************************************** Half-an-hour later we were in the shower together. Usually, this was how we cooled down after a steamy escapade. But not this time. I was watching soapy water run off Mel's tits when she said, "I know it's not long since - but, I mean, could you do me again? Now?" When I hesitated momentarily, she went on, "I can suck you if that would help." But already we knew it wouldn't be necessary. Her hand was on my cock and it was getting harder by the second. Needing no further encouragement, she turned to face the wall, braced herself with both arms and widened her legs. The water sprayed over us as I bent a little at the knees for position, took my cock in my hand, stroked it a few times unnecessarily and then probed. Whether she was still wet from earlier or freshly aroused, I couldn't tell but entry wasn't a problem. Mel pushed back, I gave her what she wanted. Not a marathon this time. Maybe a dozen thrusts but all deep and firm, Mel gasping, wanting more. I can repeat - it's hasn't been achieved naturally, more as a conscious joint exercise to make the most of what we know we can do well. That night I doubt there was much left for her to have but I felt the contractions in my shaft as I gave her what was there, while she took one hand off the wall to bring herself to orgasm one last time before collapsing to her knees. ********************************************** Supper was quiet and reflective, mostly small talk about the day's other activities. It was not until we had settled down with a glass of wine, my hand stroking her thigh through her skirt though not suggestively, that she said, "Just now, in the shower. I want you to know what that was about." "Did it need to be about anything? You wanted to fuck - that's always good." "Of course, but I've been dealing with what we talked about earlier. Looking round the table at out staff meeting, I began wondering about the other women. How would it be with one of them? Was it something I could do?' "And was it?" "I don't know. The chemistry would have to be right. Not just for me and whoever, but you, as well." "I know. I think that's important, too." "But driving home, I had pictures in my mind, as though I had already decided. And then when we did ourselves with that woman on the news, I felt the attraction again. But I know, too, where my priorities are. Whatever happens, or doesn't happen in that way, I will always need a cock. Your cock. Because I don't believe there is anyone better. That's why I needed to be fucked in the shower." "You didn't need to tell me, but thanks all the same." Mel was quiet for a while. The she said, "But it hasn't gone away, has it? The idea that we might try to find out?" To be truthful, it was a possibility that interested us both, and because of the way we are, we decided to see what could be done about it. Where to start? We didn't want someone butch with tattoos and a strap-on. There was a pretty science teacher at Mel's college who was openly gay - didn't flaunt it, but didn't hide it either. She was in a long-term relationship; her partner occasionally picked her up at the end of the day and that would renew speculation about who did what to whom and how often, but that was all. In any case, we didn't want someone that close to home, someone we might subsequently bump into in the supermarket. We needed to protect ourselves, too. Trawling the internet was the obvious route but it didn't get us anywhere. One night, after another frustrating fishing expedition, we confronted the problem. No sensible woman (and that was a pre-requisite for us) was going to agree to meet on her own a couple of complete strangers and hope that she would hit it off with one and be fucked afterwards by the other. So what next? We agreed to put the bi-curious thing on the back burner and hope something might happen that we could't quite foresee. We still enjoyed the role the newsreader played in our fantasy but that was no reason to abandon our ambition to spice things up a little in any way we found interesting. Analysing it, we saw that the idea of another woman sprang from the belief that another party would add to the excitement. We discussed dogging but there seemed to be more minuses than pluses. But we sensed the possibilities in being watched. So it came about that one day I picked up Mel from college and we went to the cinema. Our theory that at five in the afternoon the place wouldn't be packed was correct. We had chosen the least popular title at the multiplex and there were barely two dozen people there. We took seats in the back row and discovered, once our eyes were accustomed to the semi-darkness, that we had it to ourselves. Better still, a youngish man, returning from a trip to the gents, soon moved into the row, leaving a couple of spaces but close enough. Mel nudged me and I nodded approval. She opened the top three buttons of her blouse and I slipped my hand inside. The movement was picked up by the young man and his hand went to his lap. We had struck lucky first time. Mel, pretending to be unaware of his attention, widened her legs and let her skirt ride up. When she took my hand from her tits and guided it to her inner thighs, the man's response was to unzip himself. He glanced at Mel and smiled. She nodded and smiled back to indicate it was OK with us if he wanted to play with himself. Hardly able to believe we were getting what we came for, Mel opened my zip. It need only brief fondling by cool, clever fingers and I was hard. Then, just as she bent her head to begin, there was a change in the light levels. The door opened and an elderly couple entered - and took the first seats they came to in the back row. By the time my cock was back in hiding the young man had left his seat and disappeared. Game over with no winners. We left soon afterwards. I drove us to a remote corner of the car park and Mel completed the job she had hardly begun inside but it was poor compensation. Plan B - which we had hoped not to need because we were uncertain about what it would offer - was a porn cinema. There wouldn't be any prudish spoilsports there, but what would there be. Mel wasn't prepared to go on the off chance but she was willing for me to investigate. The cinema that fulfilled our criterion of not being on our doorstep was in a town thirty-odd miles away. I was surprised that I didn't need to be a member: just paid my tenner and was waved in. There were screens in two rooms, both showing rather better quality films than I had expected. Not subtle, of course, lots of close-up penetration, noisy women taking large cocks, some anal. Neither room was full but there was plenty of activity, mostly towards the rear in each case. Some twosomes, some voyeurs, a lot of wanking. The only problem, the only women to be seen were on the screen. The films were emphatically hetero but the watchers were undeniably gay. I was beginning to get inviting looks from some of those with protruding cocks. Time to leave. But unwilling to admit to complete failure, I stopped on the way out to talk to the man at the counter who was also overseeing a display of magazines, videoa and sex aids. "What's the position with women here?" I asked. "Depends. We don't get many, but you can bring one if you want." "How would that work?"

"Well, try coming on a Friday night lateish. Official closing time is ten-thirty. There's a guy comes most weeks with his wife. If they are in, I close at ten-thirty, lock the door and no-one leaves until the end." "The end of what?" "What do you think? If she's in the mood, everyone gets a blow job. The ones she fancies get more. Everyone can watch, wank, whatever." "But just one woman?" "Would be good to have more. Why don't you bring yours? There'd be plenty for her." I reported back to Mel and we crossed another idea off the list. ********************************************** But it was Mel who made the suggestion that eventually produced results - though not without much trial and error. We had been engaged in a particularly satisfactory session that included a new discovery. I had already come once and we were wondering about carrying on without a pause, something I can sometimes do. I was kneeling on the bed arranging cushions for Mel to lie on in a pose I knew would get me going. But I was taken by surprise when she slipped hand between my legs from behind and cradled my balls, moulding them gently. At the same time, she bent her head to circle my slightly distended arsehole with the tip of her tongue. In an instant my cock was rigid and demanding more. What followed was a lengthy bout of sixty-nine, with more excellent work from Mel's tongue, and then - at her request - a hard, fast fuck. It was while we were that Mel raised the question of what next. "In the end," she said, "what we've been looking for is someone who will be there but won't be joining in. Right?" "Yes." "Isn't that what's called a voyeur?" "I guess so." "And aren't there plenty of men out there in that category?" It was obvious, really, but I think it was important that Mel was the one who raised it,; it indicated she would be comfortable with it in the right circumstances. So it was back to the internet. We would still have strict no-go areas but at least we went about in a more methodical way. We set ourselves up with a new e-mail address to be used only in this connection. We bought a pay-as-you-go mobile for phase two. Next we found a promising site and signed up with fictitious names. We posted two photos of Mel in her underwear, neither showing her face. From the back she was shown kneeling so that the knicker fabric was stretched invitingly across her taut buttocks. From the front, a lacy bra did nothing to conceal the hardness of erect nipples, while her hand was suggestively inside the waistband of her knickers. Fortunately, the website acted as a firewall, so that responses were diverted before reaching our new e-mail address. Fortunately, because there were plenty of them, just as Mel had suggested. The problem was identifying the interesting ones. A whole lot of them said they were exactly what we were looking for, understood about no participation, but would be keen to join in if invited. So that eliminated them. There were those who were only willing to get their cocks out and wank if they could be assured they would see us doing anal. Some sent photos of their cock. Other pictures showed them shooting on to their other half's knickers. We exchanged e-mails with maybe a dozen hopefuls, I met three and rejected them all. We both agreed to meet Simon, who seemed the most interesting, but as soon as he walked into the bar for our rendezvous, Mel took one look at his t-shirt, jeans and baseball cap and we were left with the job of breaking it to him gently that he would see nothing. Two or three remained for consideration but we were beginning to think the problem was ours: we were too choosy, making the whole project impossible. ********************************************** London, too crowded, too expensive, too noisy, is not my favourite place. If I have to be there, seeing clients and potential clients, I try to maximise my time. I had dinner in a private boardroom and agreed broad principles of a deal that would be worth a lot of money, but rather than celebrate I went straight to my hotel; my schedule featured a breakfast meeting at 7.30 followed by another at 11.00, followed hopefully by an early afternoon train home. The Leaning Curve Ch. 02 It all followed from a late-night call that Mel took while I was in the shower. When I came out, I could see something had changed. "Tell me," I said. "It was Celia. She says Rob has offered to baby-sit next time - if it would be OK with us if she came instead. She thinks she might be bi, and wants to find out." "Seriously?" "Yes." And then, carefully, "It changes things, doesn't it?" In order to understand just how the situation would change, I need to go back and fill in the details of how our relationship with Robert had developed. Truthfully, it had exceeded our expectations. Rob told us he was the advertising manager for a large group of trade magazines, well enough paid for Celia to be a full time housewife and mother to their three children. We liked him instantly. He seemed very like us. At the second meeting, after some promising flashing in the hotel lounge, Rob could hardly wait to get up to our room. He wanted to show us something. A picture of Celia. He had taken it with his mobile phone camera after promising his wife that he would delete it as soon as he had shown it to us. They are ultra careful in case their children get access to the phone. Of course, we were pleased, even if discretion meant that we didn't see Celia's face. She was in bra and knickers, half reclining with one hand inside the waistband. "Nice tits," said Mel. "Bigger than me." "Don't be too modest," said Robert. "The way your nipples harden gets me going. I guess we all like a change." "And Mark wouldn't mind getting his cock in between those," said Mel. Chance would be a fine thing, I thought, remembering the problems of their children. Nevertheless, Rob had begun something that developed very satisfactorily. First, we agreed that he could take a picture of Mel and me in action for Celia to see, with the same promise that it would be deleted immediately afterwards. He chose doggy with me half in and half out, and we all approved the result. The bonus came at the next meeting: I took along our camera and we all three took turns at taking pictures while we indulged in all the permutations we had enjoyed previously. The last shot showed Mel wiping our joint spunk from her tits with Celia's knickers. The deal was that any shots that showed faces would be wiped - we did that together before Rob left - but that Mel and I could transfer the rest to the computer at home for our future pleasure. I have to say, there was a lot of that, and the fucking it led to was intense and imaginative. The great thing was the developing trust: we knew we had no intention of letting any photos be seen except by the three of us, and Rob believed that to be true. In the way that one thing led to another, Mel took the initiative by suggesting we surely now knew Rob well enough that we could abandon the hotel and invite him to our home. We would have more freedom there, she argued, and could share the photos, too. I had no problem with that. In fact, I had become a little worried about the preliminaries in the lounge. There had been one session when the two of them got carried away to the point that Rob had his cock out while Mel removed her knickers and passed them to him quite openly. Fortunately, no one walked in at the crucial moment but it made me feel we were getting a bit too bold in our pursuit of the original idea. Admittedly, we were more than thirty miles from home but not outside commuting distance for some of Mel's pupils - or the parents she met on open nights. There was also the possibility of one of Rob's contacts turning up by chance. Anyway, not for the first time, Mel's suggestion was inspired. Rob arrived and I had hardly poured him a drink before Mel took his hand and led him upstairs. As she does with me, she went first, knowing that a short skirt did nothing to hide her knickers from the view below. Wardrobe at home was more revealing than anything she dared wear at the hotel. I've already explained how big a part knicker fetish would play, and how happy Mel was to indulge it (Celia, too, it had transpired). It had been clear from the very first meeting that Rob would share my delight in sexy silk across a tight arse or pressed into the crevice at the front. Or wrapped around a needy dick. On this occasion, we had laid out on the bed a selection of the knickers I liked best. While Rob was shedding his clothes, Mel held out each pair and invited him to choose. He went for lilac green French knickers. Mel - who was already down to basics herself - stepped out of black and into green. Rob's next request was for her to bend over, resting her arms on a chair while I stood behind her and rubbed my cock against the fabric covering her buttocks. It worked for me, and it worked for Rob: he gathered a blue pair from the bed and wrapped them round his shaft while he watched my cock slide up and down. The spanking that followed was also less inhibited than we had felt inclined to risk at the hotel. After the third resounding slap, Rob was anxious. "Is this good for Mel?" he asked. She answered for herself. "Don't worry. It sets my juices flowing. And we'll stop soon. We want you to see the photos." Once Mel had taken her spanking and been released from my lap, we all sat together on the edge of the bed. I had my laptop set up to provide a wi-fi slide show to the big TV screen on the facing wall. We do sometimes watch Newsnight while in bed, or maybe a movie. Porn, too, of course - our favourite overture to our own performance. Now, as the screen came to life, the first shot was of Mel's arse, black knickers, bent over. It elicited a little gasp from Rob, remembering the occasion - "Oh, yes." - and his hand flew to his dick. By the time of the dissolve into a shot of Mel's mouth wrapped salaciously round my knob, he was erect and working hard at maintaining it. He had retrieved the green knickers, which were clearly helping. Then he realised that by looking to his left he could see the real Mel mirroring the screen. I had set the slide show to its slowest rate. There were twenty-seven photos. As each one appeared, Mel and I followed its example. Whatever Mel and I did on the screen - sucking, fingering, sixty-nining, fucking, me on top, then Mel riding me with one hand on her clit and the other tweaking a nipple - Mel and I did on the bed. Some idea of how successful this was can be understood if I say we were on shot twenty-three the second time around (a vigorous doggy) when Rob couldn't hold it any longer and shot into the green knickers. That triggered me. In the next photo I was in Mel's mouth, and that's how it ended. Later, having sent Rob happily on his way to report to Celia, we reflected on a very successful session. I was aware that, at the end, Melissa hadn't come, but we were planning to rectify that shortly. First, I had a question for my wife. "When we were all getting carried away, you had your eyes close while I was piling into you." "Yes, and very good it was, too." "But I did just wonder if you were thinking about how it might be if wasn't my cock, but Rob's" Mel thought for a while before answering. "If I'm honest, I can't say that it was in my mind at that moment. But if not, then at some other time. Yes." "What would you have done if I had offered the possibility?" "Nothing. You know that. If we haven't agreed beforehand, nothing happens." "But suppose I say now, it would be OK next time?" "It would still depend." "On?" "On whether it was something you could cope with. Whether it would be good for you to watch. Good for both of us." "I've ben thinking about it." "So have I." "And?" "I think it might happen. But not yet. It's too soon for all of us." "If you think so, you know I trust your instincts." "But," said Mel, "there might be a compromise." I was immediately alert. Mel didn't say such things lightly. "Such as?" "Suppose next time, you have me from behind. Rob is in front of me, watching and wanking in a pair of my knickers." Easy to picture. We've been there. "Yes." "But then I ask him to drop the knickers and offer me his cock." "In your mouth?" "Yes." I didn't need to answer. Mel put her hand on my cock and knew what I was thinking. "Is that a serious idea for next time?" I asked. "Maybe. But you can see where that leads. You and Rob switch places, and now I'm being fucked by Rob. Are you ready for that?" Before I could answer, Mel went on, "Anyway, it isn't our decision, really. Remember, Celia sends Rob here knowing that the rules are - look but don't touch." "Tricky." "Well, there's only one way to find out. Next time Celia rings, I'll ask her." "What's your guess?" "I just don't know. We'll have to wait. Meanwhile, I have a suggestion." "Tell me." "If I lie on my back and open my legs, do you think you could fuck me?" I thought I could and I did. *********************************** Waiting for the call from Celia was a different matter. It was five days, and we began to wonder whether we would feel confident enough to ask Celia how she would feel about Mel sucking her husband's cock. In the event, we never got around to asking. When the call came, Celia couldn't wait to ask her own question. "Robert has offered to baby-sit next time - if it would be OK with both of you I could come instead. I think I might ... might be bi. I mean, I just don't know. Anyway, maybe I could find out. Would that be all right with you?" So this was how things had changed. We had set out with one objective - to find a female third party for sex. When that failed, we had sought a male voyeur. When we found one, that relationship had moved on to the point where we were ready to accept him as a participant. Only to discover that his wife might be the solution to our original idea. As things turned out, we had plenty of time to talk about it. At Ron and Celia's end, Rebecca, their daughter, was coming up to school exams, with all the tension that goes with that difficult phase of adolescence. Not a time for Celia to be finding an excuse to have a night out. As for me, I had just taken a lease on a new set of offices. Business was good, I needed to make room for more staff. But the new premises had to be altered, a kitchen and extra toilet installed, redecoration, a whole raft of things that often kept me there after hours. There was frustration on both sides, but we also knew that sooner or later it would happen. In the meantime there were at least regular late night calls from Celia. Over long chats with Mel an interesting picture emerged - and with it an eventual solution. This now needs to become Celia's story. This is how she she told it to Mel, and then Mel told it to me. I have had to invent the words as they were spoken at the time but Mel says this is close enough. *********************************** "There was a time," Celia said, "when I despaired of ever making things work. I even wondered if it was a mistake to have contacted you at all. But when Robert came home after the first time, it did seem so exciting, something to stop us getting into a rut. Sex had always been important for us but after the children began to get older we had to change. I didn't really think Rob would be unfaithful, but I could have kind of understood if he got bored with routine. Letting him meet you, and only to look, seemed worth trying. And when he came home and wanted to ... " "Fuck," said Mel. "Is that all right? Rob says you aren't upset by that word." "Nor others. Not at the right time. It turns me on." "Me, too, but I didn't want to get it wrong." "You were saying that Rob came home from seeing us and the first thing he wanted to do was fuck." "Not just fuck. It was like turning the clock back. He couldn't get into me fast enough. But he's always been careful to make it good for me, so there was a lot of foreplay. He's big - well, you know that." "Yes," Mel said, remembering. "Anyway, it didn't take much to get me ready. And - well, it was just the most marvelous fuck. The best we'd had for ages. So we knew we had to go on, even if it was a bit second hand for me. "With the children it couldn't be any other way. Rebecca will soon be sixteen. She and I have always been close and that's good in one way because we have gradually been able to talk about sex, though only, of course, in general terms, in theory. Fortunately, we live in good area and the local mums keep in touch. If there are any signs of a bad group developing, we can deal with it. No sleepovers, for example. And our computer has more firewalls than the Pentagon. "But, of course, we don't know what the kids talk about among themselves. I mean, Rebecca is getting pubic hair, so what does she think when she asks to share the bathroom for two minutes and sees that I've shaved? She doesn't ask, and I don't offer. . There'll be plenty of time for her to enjoy what comes later. Soon we'll have to cope with the boys and their grubby little minds. Well, Rob can deal with them. "But like any other teenager, Rebecca's at an age where she wants to know if she can raid my wardrobe. Before I agree, I go through my knicker drawer and remove all of Rob's favourites. I keep two or three - the ones Rob uses with you - hidden in the bottom of the linen cupboard. The rest are in a locked suitcase in the attic, with my vibrator and the magazines Rob and I used to find arousing. Oh well," she sighed, "one day they'll come out again." "But you think you might have found a way to escape to see us?" Mel asked. "Thanks to my mother, would you believe? We've always been close, Mum and I, and since my father died from a completely unexpected heart attack five years ago I've taken to visiting her for lunch every Friday. "Mum and Dad were both academics. They met as undergraduates, drifted apart for a while but then ended up at the same University on Fellowships and got married. Lived there ever since. "Anyway, Mum always ask about the children - and about Robert. She can be quite direct - everything all right between you two, that sort of thing. Well, this time she must have sensed something in the way I answered. And when she pressed, I just suddenly blurted it all out - about you and Mark, and letting Roberto go." "How did she take that?" "In her stride. Much better to know where he was and what he was up to, was Mum's view. And then she surprised me by saying it was tame by comparison with what she and Dad used to enjoy. Academia, she said, was a hot bed - literally. Not the City, where people work all hours, knock back champagne and fall into bed exhausted. Academics spend eight hours a day nurturing the intellect, and can't wait to do the same for the libido. Threesomes, foursomes, groups - anything that took your fancy. How it didn't get into the papers was a mystery. "She was interested, though, in my wanting to explore bi. She thinks it's a generation thing. She said there was a certain amount of woman-on-woman when she and Dad were part of the scene but it was very minor. But she didn't discourage me - that's not Mum's style. What she did say was she thought we were lucky with our Melissa and Mark, so why not see where it leads. Just be sure we can stop when we want to. "When I pointed out it hadn't led anywhere yet for me, she said straight away that mustn't be a problem. She thought it was clever that we tell the children Rob goes to play bridge on his evenings out. Chess might have interested the young, but bridge is boring. No awkward questions. "As for me, she had a simple suggestion. When it suits, just change Friday lunch to a Friday dinner party; now Dad isn't around I could be making up the numbers. When I pointed out the kids might want to know if Nan had any news, she said - make something up. She wouldn't want them to know what she does on Friday nights. Because, she said, that's the night one or other of her men come round. And not for supper. "Of course, it was my turn to ask and she wasn't the least embarrassed to tell. Seems she has two men, both married - so she doesn't have to wash their socks or iron their shirts - they come round, she says, because she gives them what their wives don't. More than that, she wouldn't tell me. She said I wouldn't be surprised to learn that other people were spicing up their sex lives, why should I be surprised if that included my parents? Mum was getting fucked regularly and she saw no reason why I shouldn't have a bit of fun, too. "Her last words as I left that day were to encourage me to agree a date a.s.a.p and just let her know when I needed an alibi." *********************************** A week would seem a long time but we saw we would have to wait until the following Friday. And that turned out to be wishful thinking. That day was to be the last in my existing office set-up. The removal men were booked for eight o'clock Monday morning. The problem was completing the work at the new premises. My heart sank on the Wednesday when the foreman came to me to say that they would be finished in time as promised, but they would have to put in some extra hours. His lads were a good bunch (as I had to acknowledge) and he didn't want to ask them to give up a whole week-end. But if they could work until ten on Friday and all day Saturday, he could guarantee to deliver. All I could do was accept, knowing that on the Friday my insurance policy would require me to be there at ten to lock up and set the alarms. No use calling on the alibi. I broke the news to a bitterly disappointed Melissa who was able to pass it on when Celia rang that night. Frustration all round, but nothing could be done. So it came about that on Frustration Friday I arrived home at about ten thirty and had hardly poured myself a drink before the mobile rang. It could only be Celia or Robert. Mel answered, and it was Celia. I took my drink to the bedroom where I removed jacket, tie and shoes, and then to the bathroom while I washed off the day's dust. Feeling somewhat more human, I returned downstairs. Mel was still deep in conversation with Celia. As I tuned in it was apparent the two women had got over sympathising with each other over the postponement. Of course, I could only hear our end of the chat, but it was interesting. "What now? ... Really? ... I take it the children are safely asleep then ... Who started it ... Rob? ... But you're obviously not complaining ... Mark? Yes, he's here ... We can try ... why not?" Mel waved me to sit beside her on the sofa and opened her legs. It didn't take me long to get the message. Celia and Rob were getting turned on at their end, and this was an invitation for us to join in. I slid my hand up Mel's skirt, cool flesh at the top of the thighs, then a moist knicker gusset to ease aside. Mel speaking again. "Yes, he is now ... How about you ... Good ... Oh, that's even better ... Don't let him stop ... Ohhh." My fingers had found their way into slippery warm flesh and Mel's reaction told the story. "How is it now? ... Can you ... will you fuck afterwards ... yes, we'll have to ... go on, do it for me Celia ..." By now I had located a distended clit and was giving it the attention it needed. Mel's legs were wide apart and she was pushing herself on to my fingers. Conversation on the phones had changed at our end from words to sighs and moans. I guessed it was much the same from Celia. Mel came more noisily than usual, I believe to help Celia with her own orgasm. It seemed to work. Phone sex for four. Anyway, there were kisses down the phone and a promise that nothing would come between them next Friday. Personally, I was hoping that at some point that night I would come between them, but I kept the thought to myself. For her part, Mel kept to her word and asked to be fucked. It turned out I wasn't as tired as I thought. The Leaning Curve Ch. 02 *********************************** A week later, we were apprehensive for a while that there had been another hitch but Celia apologised for arriving late. Settling the boys and making sure Rob could help Rebecca with her homework had delayed her setting off for "Nan's dinner party." The first minutes were understandably a little strained. This was, after all, the first time the three of us had met, and the aim was not to discuss the weather. Remember, the only photos we had seen of each other were taken by mobile phones for the purpose of soon being deleted. But we were not disappointed. Celia was probably a couple of inches taller than Melissa, bigger in the hips though not greatly, and full bosomed (the big tits Mel had suggested, and this was the night I would get my hands on them, I hoped). She was wearing a white blouse, two top buttons promisingly open, a beige knee length skirt, pale yellow stockings and three-inch heels. I had chilled a bottle of white wine and poured drinks for the three of us. There was an awkward pause until Mel, as ever, took charge and put us all at our ease. She asked Celia to sit beside her on the sofa while I was directed to an arm chair facing them. After we had made some polite talk about Rob and about Celia finding her way to our house, Mel said, "We don't really need rules, do we? The whole point is to do whatever we feel happy with. No means no, but I don't suppose that will arise. Mark understands that we start on the same basis that we did with Rob: two participants, one watcher who doesn't touch." I nodded, hoping that starting on that basis wouldn't mean sticking to it. "Wouldn't it be a good idea if Mark got us in the mood?" Mel went on. "Gets himself in the mood, I mean." This with a look at me to signal that I should do what we had agreed beforehand. I stood up and slowly undressed down to my boxers. When I sat again I extracted my cock and began slowly to massage it to size. "Very nice." saId Celia. "Not as big as Rob, though.' "Doesn't it depend on how you use it? Rob says you don't complain." "True," said Mel. "And Rob has seen the photos." Then, more boldly, "Do you think I could, too?" Celia seemed to be gaining in confidence. "Why not?" said Mel. "Let's go upstairs." Just as on Rob's first visit, Mel took our guest by the hand and led the way. I followed, nursing a cock I still hoped would be more than an ornament. This time,the arrangement was subtly different. Once I had set the slide show in motion, Mel and Celia sat on the bed facing the big screen while I took a chair to one side where I could watch them. We sat at first in silence, needing a cue to move on. Both women were still fully dressed but I was encouraged to see that, without taking their eyes off the screen, they were getting aroused. Mel had a hand on Celia's blouse, caressing her tits, while Celia's hand was sliding suggestively along Mel's skirt. That hand suddenly clenched on a now exposed thigh. I looked up at the screen. It was the last photo. Celia's husband jerking his cock to send a jet of cum on to my wife's tits. "Oh." Celia's reaction didn't suggest disapproval. Attuned as ever to the mood of the moment, Mel took Celia's hands in hers and urged her to her feet. After only the briefest pause, their arms encircled each other and their mouths met. I could see that tongues were involved, but soon my attention was elsewhere. Clever Mel had manoeuvered their clinch so that Celia had her back to me. Now my shrewd lady was lifting her partner's skirt. To my delight, this revealed the same lemon yellow knickers that Rob had brought to one of our first encounters. Mel fondled and groped, stretching the fabric across Celia's bottom. Knowing how it felt when I gave that kind of attention to Mel's arse, I carefully eased off stropping my dick. I wanted to be needing it later. When they broke apart from the kiss, they began slowly to undress each other. But not, I began to understand, specifically for my benefit. All the while then, and in closer contract later, they were murmuring to each other. Sometimes I could catch the odd word or phrase but they were entering a space from which I was excluded. After Celia had stripped Mel to midnight blue stockings and suspender belt, she stopped. The matching bra discarded, her own remaining garment was the lemon knickers. These she removed and brought them over to me. She said, "I know about you and Rob. Would you like these now?" Of course. As she handed them to me, Celia leaned forward to kiss my cheek. At the same time the back of her hand brushed my cock. Just lightly. It may have been accidental, but I didn't think so. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "If you want to take photos, that's all right with Rob and me." It was all right with Melissa and me, too. The camera was within reach. As Celia turned back to Mel, I began folding the knickers round my shaft while I tried to identify the perfume that lingered after her. Some kind of citrusy fragrance. Then I realised. Of course, lemon. Like the knickers. Sexy Celia. They started on the bed, kissing and caressing, just tits at first but then exploring lower down. I switched on the camera. Mel with her head between Celia's thighs. Click. Celia with two fingers in Mel's cunt. Click. Sixty-nine, tongues working, fingers active, too. Click. Celia turned on to her knees, Celia's tongue flickering round an exposed arsehole. Click. Mel's response was a surprise for me, but it told me she had been planning this encounter for a while. No wonder our bedtime acrobatics had been so intense recently. Her move now was to settle Celia on the floor in a sitting position, back supported by the bed. Mel then stood astride her, steadying herself with her hands and then lowering her cunt inch by inch on to a Celia's face. Celia reached up to clasp my wife's buttocks, pulling her on to that lascivious tongue. Click, click, click. I stood back and lowered the camera to admire the view. I found myself imagining how it would be to join them by inserting my cock in Mel's arse. It wasn't to be, of course. Not only because of the no touching rule, but also because our progress with anal was still incomplete. In a bedside drawer were Mel's toys and a tube of gel. We had reached the stage where she could accept the smallest vibrator - not much thicker than a pencil - and then my middle finger. It occurred to me that we should accelerate the training for some future occasion with Celia. Then, with a jolt, my imagination took another leap. Mel and Celia had swapped, and my wife's face was receiving the treatment. But suppose, I wondered, Celia and Rob were more accomplished anal practitioners? Would she take my cock there? It was too soon to ask but sooner or later we could try to steer the conversation in that direction. Mel would be the one to do that. For now, the end was near. They were back in sixty-nine embrace, bodies pressing urgently against each other, the sounds louder, the words mostly incoherent ("There ... yes, just there ... like that is good"). The orgasms began to melt into each other until at last they rolled apart and lay panting, tits heaving. One last click. After leaving a decent pause, Mel asked the question that was uppermost in my mind. "That was wonderful for me. And you?" "I think you know," said Celia. Then, softly, testing the ground. "Would you like Mark to fuck you?" "Oh dear," Celia sat up to look at me. My eyes were still on the puffy shaven area at the top of her thighs. "Right at this moment there is nothing I want more. To feel inside me what Mel enjoys inside her. But I promised myself that after Mel it had to be Rob. Can you understand that?" I looked at Mel. We could, but it was disappointing. Celia, however, hadn't finished. "Can I just say this? You've both been marvellous, so I feel guilty asking for more. But what I would really like would be to - well, to watch you two. Do you think you could do that for me.?" Of course, we did. I needed to put my erection to use anyway: it was throbbing for want of a warm and slippery nest to penetrate. But not for long. Because, after a long and what we thought was a fruitless search, we had achieved the objective we started out with all that time ago: a woman to watch us fuck. We went through most of our repertoire, and I triggered an orgasm for Mel by giving her the finger from behind while I was buried balls-deep inside her. But just as I was upping the tempo towards my own big moment, Celia said, "Mark. Don't cum inside. Could you do for me what Rob did for Mel?" It took me a few seconds to understand. Then I saw that she was on her back again at our side. The rest was easy. A few gentle strokes and a stream of cum poured down on to those ample tits. Still we weren't finished. I was looking around for Celia's knickers to do the cleaning up when Mel said, "Hold on, Mark. Don't leave me out of this." On all fours, she crouched across Celia and licked up every last drop of spunk. As an erotic alternative to getting it direct from source, which she liked to do, it provided the perfect finale. *********************************** Celia gathered up her scattered garments and went to the bathroom to shower and dress. I looked at Mel, replete and probably planning for the next time. "Was it good?" "Better than good. Much better." "No nerves. Celia was a bit tense but she soon relaxed." "Clever you. I thought it might have been something you said, but I couldn't hear." "I just reminded her about her alibi. Reminded her at that very minute her mother was probably getting well and truly fucked, and would be disappointed if Celia wasn't doing something similar. Seemed to do the trick." "Yes, I'd forgotten about her mother. But now, where do we go from here?" "Nowhere, really. Let's just enjoy where we are. We wanted to find out something - do bi-women get something from each other they don't get from men? I now know the answer is yes they do. But that doesn't make Celia and me a pair of lesbians. We are bisexuals who know how to give sexual pleasure in ways men don't. But does it mean we don't need men? Not on your life. And once we have seen Celia safely on her way back to Rob, I will be more than ready to demonstrate." Mel making sense, as always. Always horny Mel. It was Mel who remembered to tell Celia something that had slipped into the background: that we wanted to know if next time she would mind if Mel sucked Rob's cock while I was fucking her. Mel put the question to a refreshed, fully dressed and apparently respectable Celia when she came from the bathroom. Celia said she thought it was a natural next step - and there was no doubt Rob would, too. Then she opened her handbag and extracted an offering: the lemon-coloured knickers. "Could you look after these until I send Rob to collect them? I brought a spare pair in case I needed something to go home in." For the moment, they are beside me as I write. The citrus perfume blends now with another aroma. Of Celia. And sex. Mel is at college and won't be home for another hour. My cock is hard, remembering. I need to use them now. The Leaning Curve In my room, I stripped off, showered and lay on my bed to call Melissa. By the time I heard her pick up at the other end, I was slowly manipulating my cock: we can do it by phone if necessary. I wanted to tell her about the woman with big tits who had sat opposite me at dinner, just the type we believed would be right for us - if only... But we had hardly exchanged a few words before Mel said, "Damn - that's the mobile. Who rings at this time of night?" The mobile was the one that went with our project, so I suggested she should answer. "I'll call you back in five minutes," she said. Five minutes turned out to be nearer forty-five. When she eventually rang I knew at once she was excited. The caller was Robert, from our list of possibles. Mel liked him from the outset: polite, softly spoken but quite certain about what we were looking for and his ability to deliver. "Is he married?" I asked, reminding Mel it was an important question. A wife being deceived was a potential problem. We had considered dealing with it but we needed to know the rules of engagement. "Yes," said Mel. "To Celia. A lovely lady." "He says." "No. I say. Who do you think I've been talking to all this while?" The story seemed almost too good to be true but Mel was utterly convinced. Robert and Celia, she reported, were not unlike us: reaching a point where their sex life will not be harmed, and could be improved, by a little innovation. But they had no inclination to join the swinging set. What we were proposing looked like a good first step for them. "But?" I asked Yes, there was a but. They have three children, boys aged eight and ten, and a girl of fifteen. Only one computer in those house, used by all. So e-mails are sent late at nigh, seeking an instant reply, then everything is deleted. The same explanation for the eleven p.m. call to our mobile phone. Not ideal, perhaps, but it seemed to work. Celia said she had no problem baby-sitting while Robert was with us. They would share the details of what had happened when they were in bed later. Both were confident it would work. Celia had raised the subject of spanking - something that interested them but was still on their wish list because of noise and the children. Mel had told her we liked it sometimes in foreplay, but nothing too excessive. Robert would enjoy watching. He was also, Mel said, a man after my own heart - knickers were a major turn-on. "So what next?" I enquired, becoming aware that I had stroked myself to full erection. "I've suggested this Friday - no point in putting it off. I said I would book the hotel (we were agreed that any initial meeting would not be on home territory; the hotel was an hour's drive away). I offered dinner. Robert thought that would be a bit tense and artificial but agreed that a drink in thebar first would probably be a good way to break the ice. "So Friday? Only three days to wait?" "Yes. For Robert. But I'm available now. And - " "Wet?" "How did you guess?" The moans were not long delayed. ********************************************** After so much disappointment it was a relief when Robert joined us in the lounge. Smartly dressed, dark jacket, grey slacks, white shirt, no tie. He was, I guessed, just short of six feet tall, broad shoulders, dark hair thinning a little (but who was I to speak?}, brown eyes and a full mouth. Firm handshake, no embarrassment. Robert insisted on buying the drinks. While he was at the bar Mel let me know she was relaxed - well, not exactly relaxed - more like excited. Basically, it was all systems go. And, having established that the lounge was almost empty and that we were in one of the furthest corners, she said we could give Robert the little treat we had planned. When he returned with the drinks, I indicated he should take the deep armchair facing Mel. For a while, we made small talk: the state of the roads, parking, how quiet the hotel was. Which was my cue. I stood up as though planning to head for the bar to replenish our glasses. Instead, having confirmed no one was looking our way, I gave Mel a nod. She said to Robert, "May I show you?" With that she peeled back the hem of her skirt and widened her legs. Robert's eyes focussed on black stockings, suspenders contrasting with white thighs, black knickers stretched at the crotch. His hand strayed carefully to conceal a growing bulge. When I sat down, Mel rearranged herself to be respectable again. "Do you approve?" I asked. "More than I can say." Robert replied. "Thank you for that. But - " he looked down at his lap. "Shall we go up?" Mel asked. I was pleased we could get to the lifts without passing reception. That meant we could all go up together without attracting attention. It also meant Mel could give Robert another show while we were in the lift. She lifted her skirt while I fondled her arse. For a brief moment, Robert dropped to one knee, taking it all in from only a few inches. The next test was how to cope once we were in the room. Would there be awkwardness about how to proceed? I doubt there's an etiqeutte book for hostesses in this situation, but Mel needed none. She put an arm round Robert's shoulder and guided him to a chair we had earlier placed beside the bed. Then she looked at me. "Would you mind if I ask you both to get me in the mood?" (As if she wasn't.) "Too many clothes on at the moment, don't you think?" I had scarcely begun to remove my jacket before Robert had eagerly accepted the suggestion. When he was down to his boxer's, he turned to Mel and asked, "Everything?" She smiled. "Perhaps not just yet. Softly, softly." "I just want it to be good for you two. But, if I'm honest, I can't wait to see those knickers again. Properly, this time. And no hurry." "Like this, then?" Mel stood in front of his chair, slowly unbuttoned her blouse before removing it and setting it to one side. When she ran her hands over the lacy black bra and the nipples sprang to life, Robert's little gasp of approval lit up her eyes. His hand was inside his boxer's, moving slowly. "That nice, Rob?" Mel asked. "Don't go too fast, will you?" "It's all right. I'm under orders from Celia. I mustn't disappoint you." "She told me you are quite big." "Do you want to see?" "Yes, of course. But not yet." Building the erotic charge slowly. I, too, was down to my boxer's, hoping not to be too out-inched but already feeling the throb of anticipation. Mel reached for a zip, let her skirt fall and stepped out of it. Promises or no, Robert's hand moved faster. "It's all right," he said, aware that Mel had noticed. "I can do this for a long time. But I need to do it, now I've seen. Is that all right?" "It's what we wanted, Rob," she said, "and I hope you won't be disappointed in us once we get going." After she had turned all the way round in front of him, I decided it was time I made a contribution. Taking Mel;s hand, I led her to the edge of the bed next to Robert's chair. Gently, I eased her, face down, across my lap. I undid the clasp of her bra and let it fall to the floor. That allowed me to cup her tits with my left hand while stroking her buttocks with the other. I said, "Celia says you are interested in spanking?" "Well, used to be. Before the children came along and we had to be careful about noise." "Let's make a start then. Ready, Mel?" "Always." I smoothed the knicker silk across her arse, raised my hand and gave her a few warm-up slaps, which were about as far as we usually went. Mel doesn't take long to be ready. So I was surprised to hear her say, "Harder, please. Make me feel it." Unsure how far to go, I stepped up the intensity. I could sense Robert's heavy breathing each time my palm made contact. "It's a lovely arse," he said. "Is it good for you like this, Mel?" "Yes. There's something special going on, isn't there?" Maybe it was wishful thinking because we had waited so long and pinned so many hopes on Robert, but there was an eagerness from Melissa that I found myself responding to. So, it seemed, was Rob because his hand was giving his cock a needed rest inside his shorts. Time to slip the knickers off. I did it slowly, an inch or two and then a little more. Mel's cheeks were not marked but there was a pink testimony to my efforts. Eventually, the knickers joined the bra on the floor, and Mel wriggled from my lap and sat on the bed, legs crossed. "Do you masturbate?" Rob wanted to know. Mel told him about the phone sex on the very night he and Celia had the conversation that had led to this meeting. "Would you like to see?" Instead of answering, Robert got up and went to his jacket and dived a hand into a pocket. He returned to show us a pair of pale lemon knickers. "They're Celia's," he explained. "It's all right - she knows. So would you mind if I - " But as he made to slip them inside his boxer's and round his cock, Mel said, "No, wait. Mark, give him mine. If that's what he would like." There was no need to ask. He took the black silk garment from me, held it to his face and then prepared to apply it. But Mel had another idea. "Time for us to see, Rob," she said. "I want to see what Celia spoke so well of." He slid the boxer's down his thighs and spread his legs. Celia was right. He was undoubtedly big. Not monstrous like some of the gross black weapons we'd seen in videos but certainly larger than mine, and I've never felt that nature short-changed me. It helped, of course, that Rob was already hard, the shaft pointing outward and upward unsupported. He was cicrcumcised (Mel would be pleased) and the head was already engorged and a light purple shade. "I see," said Mel. Celia wasn't wrong. And now it's my turn." She uncrossed legs and opened wide to show Robert the trim triangle of public hair above lips puffy with expectation. Her fingers parted them and the inner pink glistened with moisture. Robert was breathing hard, his hand slowly working my wife's knickers from his balls to the head and back again. Not to be left out, I rescued Celia's lemon contribution and put it to similar use. Mel went to work with that explicit sexual invitation that so easily brings me to the boil. I knew I had to take it slowly; for all my confidence in my self control this was unknown territory and I was determined to savour every second. Robert watched. I watched. Mel. Fingers inside, fingers suggesting movement rather than actually showing it, moisture apparent whenever she withdrew, fingers holding the lips apart to display the clitoris, fingertip teasing the sensitive bud. Although we had agreed that we would talk freely at all times, very little was said - what was spoken came in short breathy bursts from Mel herself - as she built, relaxed and built again. I had seen her do it before, but never with the sensual concentration she applied now, somehow conveying the message that she was doing it not just for herself but for us, too, for me, her husband, and for this stranger named Robert. The end came without any flurry of frantic fingers, merely a progressive alternation of light touching and firm insertion, then a long, deep moan, and it was done. Robert took his hand from his cock and softly applauded. "Thank you. That was marvellous. So - so trusting." "I wanted it to be good. Relax now, but not too much. Mark and I will take it on. Would you like to see us sixty-nine?" "Very much." Robert grinned, struck by a sudden memory. "When I first told Celia you were Mel and Mark she said - ah, M and Ms are always good for sucking." Before we got into position I pointed out to Robert that he wasn't tied to his chair. He should feel free to move around. There might be a no touching rule but we wanted him to be close and see all there was to see. We did it with me on my back and Mel on top. At first Robert was at my sensitive end, no doubt enjoying almost as much as I was each dip of her head as her mouth took me in, the clever flick of her tongue as she released it. After a while, Rob moved round to crouch down for a good view of my tongue lapping the secretion still oozing from Mel's cunt. When he stood, I reached up with both hands to grasp her buttocks and prise them apart. Robert got the message. "Do you mind me admiring your arse?" Mel paused from dealing with me to say, "Not at all. Just carry on. I like it?" "I mean not just your arse - I mean do you take Mark in there?" I knew he had been contemplating the tight sphincter and wondering. I told him the truth. "The answer is, not yet. But we both want it to happen. At home we have the lube and we are taking it in very easy stages. So far no penetration but it will happen." To prove the point I kept her stretched while I slipped the fourth finger of my right hand into a willing, if still somewhat tight, arsehole. Mel wriggled with pleasure. Eventually, it was time to fuck. Mel let Robert choose and he opted for doggy as a starter. We were surprised because it doesn't give the voyeur much of a view but Rob had a solution. Asking Mel's permission first, he lay on his back and managed to get his head where he could look directly up at the point of contact between cock and cunt. With Mel giving verbal encouragement I started steadily and then - in the way we like to enjoy all our sexual congress - went through various degrees of speed and strength. She was as wet as I have ever known her but thanks to well-trained cunt muscles could give me all the friction I needed. When she let a hand stray down to stimulate an already prominent clitoris, Rob couldn't contain himself. "Oh yes. Do her Mark. Do her hard for me." I obliged until Mel called for the grand finale. We had decided in advance that the best we could offer to Robert's eyes was for Mel half on her back, half on her right side. I took up a slightly oblique and angle and entered her from underneath. If she braced herself on one arm, I could work her with the full length of my cock - all the way in and all the way out. Later, Mel and I agreed that we had never known a high like it. The fuck was deep and passionate, and Robert's groaning appreciation as his wanking was stepped up added that extra ingredient we had in mind when we set out on the search so many weeks earlier. I was still free-wheeling in a state of suspended ecstacy when Rob said, "I'm sorry, I can't hold out much longer. Do you mind if I let go? I'll do it in Mel's knickers. But I need to do it soon." Not for the first time, Mel took charge. "Wait," she said. "Mark - you one side, Rob the other. Then both of you let go. On my tits." So at the end, Rob was allowed to join in, a gesture of thanks for all he had given us. We didn't quite come together - Rob really was on the brink and he had barely knelt over her and given that great, rampant cock a jerk or two and a stream of cum erupted on to her tits. Seeing that, it was only a few seconds before I followed suit. Mel, clever fingers Mel, brought her own huge, gasping climax. It took a while before we had all come down to earth, taken our turns in the bathroom and made ourselves presentable. We asked Rob if he would like one for the road, a drink in the bar before heading home. But he asked to be excused. "I need to get back - Celia will be waiting to be told everything." He looked at his watch. "The boys will already be asleep, Bella will be getting to bed shortly. But I would like to take Mel's knickers, if that's all right?" And that was one of many images Mel and I reinvigorated ourselves with, fucking while talking about Robert and Celia fucking. ********************************************** There is more. We still had to leave it to Rob or Celia to make contact and for a while we wondered if we would lose him, but it was clearly looking for them. It was after the fourth session that we decided there was no reason any more not to invite him to our home. But it didn't work out like that. It was after a late-night call that Mel took while I was in the shower. When I came out, I could see something had changed. "Tell me," I said. "It was Celia. She says Rob has offered to baby-sit next time - if it would be OK with us if she came instead. She thinks she might be bi, and wants to find out."