0 comments/ 21079 views/ 0 favorites In Brad's Mind By: Canadagander Copyright ©, 2003: Canadagander. All text in this story is created by and the sole property of the author. All rights reserved. ____________________ Writer's Note: You might call this piece a posthumous submittal. It was originally intended to be the sequel to 'Diane's Mind'. For various reasons, "Kathy's Night Out With the Boys" was submitted first, and I've updated this story to now follow Kathy's story. If you haven't read either of the first two stories, then I recommend that you read 'Diane's Mind' first, then 'Kathy's Night Out With the Boys', and finally this one. You will get to know Brad, Kathy, Diane, and the other characters better. Consider the usual warning: this story contains sexually explicit content. Do not read it unless you are an adult. _____________________ Almost two months have gone by since that unforgettable Saturday when my wife, Kathy, returned from her company's weeklong sales conference. If you recall from her story, on the last night of the conference, she had a very wild time with her two co- workers, David Malinovski and Allen Theriot. But the sexual adventure out in Arizona with those three was not what made that weekend so unforgettable for me. No, it was the fact that I almost turned the whole deal into what could have had disastrous effects on the marriages of Kathy and myself, plus David and Diane and Allen and Teri as well. You see, it had been planned by the Malinovskis and the Theriots that while David and Allen were with Kathy in Phoenix, I would be engaged that same night in a ménage a trios with Diane and Teri, here in our Midwest hometown. Unbeknownst to Kathy and me, the other two couples had open, but very discrete marriages, and they wanted us to join with them to make it a swinging sextet (pun intended). These two swinging nights out with David, Allen, Teri, and Diane were to be the first of many for Kathy and me. Only I bugged out of experiencing my first sexual adventure with two women, for reasons which you'll learn shortly. Fortunately, with what I can proudly claim as some very creative bullshitting on my part, I convinced Kathy and the swinging quartet that I had fallen in love with a married woman. Then I convinced them that if I consented to have an open marriage with Kathy, I wouldn't be strong enough to resist the temptation of having an adulterous affair with this married woman. As I counted on, Kathy (who was the key) bought into my story, and things went back to what you might call normal. Well, almost normal. An unusual thing happened this week. After quite a few rejections, a book publisher accepted my novel manuscript. At last, Brad Worth, the stay- at-home free-lance writer, commonly referred to as the husband of Kathy Otterman, may get his own recognition. The publisher asked me to fly to New York City to sign a contract and discuss possible plot follow-ups. One never says no to requests from a publisher if you are an unknown author, so on Friday, there was another business trip separating the Worth household. Only this time I, and not Kathy, was the traveler. It was more convenient for Kathy to drop me off at the airport while on the way to her office, even though my flight was not until 10:15 in the morning. The trip was to last only one day, so I didn't have to join the mob scene at the baggage checkin, simply going through security to my departure gate with a carry-on garment bag. Consequently, I had almost two hours before boarding to kill, pondering what to do with all that idle time. That was decided for me about 9:15, when my cell phone rang. It was Allen Theriot, from Kathy's office. I wondered why he would be calling me. "Hey, Brad, Al Theriot here. Congratulations on the good news about your book. Kathy came in this morning all bubbling over about you finally getting published. I'll bet that you're excited as well. What's the book called, by the way?" "Hi, Allen, I never expected that you'd be calling me at the airport. Thank you for remembering me. The title that I put on the manuscript is 'Shot Between the Ayes. That's A-Y-E-S; it's a contemporary murder mystery that has some congressmen mysteriously killed in the state capitol building. But the publisher wants to give it the title "The Deadly Dome." Frankly, they can call the book anything they want, as long as my name is spelled correctly, and they promote it to sell copies." "Yeah, that makes sense. The boss may not always be right, but he'll always be the boss. But that's beside the point. The reason why I'm calling, Brad, is that I need to know what did happen between you and Teri and Diane on the day before we returned from Phoenix. You do realize that both David and I know that the story you told Kathy about your swing with Diane and Teri was just that, a story." "Allen, please never, ever tell Kathy what you know." "She'll never hear it from me, I promise. But what I'm curious about is just why you did what you did. Teri is not happy these days. She told me that the reason you backed out of partying with her and Diane is that you don't like her. If what you said about falling for another married woman is the true story, well then, she shouldn't feel rejected, should she? So how much of what you said is factual, and how much is just more of your witty fiction?" "Allen, tell Teri that she in no way turned me off. On the contrary, I like Teri a lot, and think that she is a very sexy woman. You are lucky to have her; I guess that goes for David, too, doesn't it? But getting back to my other woman, I guess that by now it can't hurt to tell you the whole story, as long as it doesn't get back to Kathy. How much time do you have? To tell the whole story about the airport scene requires that I fill you in as well with all the transpired during the week prior to that time." "Tell me the whole story, Brad. Take all the time you need, and I want to say again that Kathy will never hear any of this from me." "What I have never told anybody, Allen, is that my made-up 'other married woman' is actually based on Diane. I have been attracted to her from the first time we met. But my feelings started going overboard at that party hosted the week before the sales conference your boss, Ken Carleton. Diane may have told you about that evening, where I amused myself, somewhat at her expense, by telling her a story about a dinner at a restaurant in New York, at which a woman and I had an erotic experience. It was not a big deal; I was simply trying to show Diane that her mind could be her most erogenous zone. By the end of the story, she got it that my tale was all bullshit, but her mind had gotten her really turned on." Continuing, I said, "Diane and I shared a good laugh, and our relationship was promoted to a deeper level. At least it was for me, Allen. In hindsight, now I'm not so sure that Diane felt for me as deeply as I now do for her. She can be so playful, perhaps she thought that our encounter was just a game." "Perhaps Diane does feel the same way as you, Brad," Allen replied. "The reason that I called was last night Teri and Diane were chatting on the phone. The way Teri told it to me, was that when Teri mentioned your name to Diane, she began to cry. She then told Teri that she should have realized that you would never consider a threesome with her and Teri. That's when Teri thought that you didn't like her, and now she's crying, too. I'm calling you to try to understand just what did happen, and how to make the girls happy. We four thought that everything was planned perfectly, but things fell apart with you and the girls. Just what did transpire?" "Here's what happened, Allen." I began to tell him the following story: ********************************************************* The Saturday after Ken's party, we spouses wished our corporate salespersons bon voyage, and I began my normal weekly routine, waiting for Kathy to return. At least I thought it would be a normal week, but the two other couples had something different planned. The next Tuesday evening, I answered my phone on the third ring. The green LED numbers on the clock radio on the nightstand read 11:00 PM. "Good evening, Brad," she began sweetly. "This is Diane. How are you doing all by your lonesome, like me?" "Oh, hi, Diane," I replied. "Well, it's kinda boring, but Kathy will be returning this Saturday. I'll hold out. Why did you call?" "I want to hear another story, Brad. You really turned me on last Friday night." "Sorry. You'll just have to dial your favorite 900 number for that." "C'mon, Brad, let's talk for a little while." She giggled and said, "I'll even give you my credit card number." "Diane, it's eleven o'clock at night. You should be in bed." "I am, silly. All I am wearing is David's Vikings jersey, but I've decided to take that off to get completely naked, Brad. What are you wearing, and where are you?" "If I hang up, you'll just call back, won't you, Diane?" "Correct. So be nice, and let's chat. I really am lonesome, Brad, and I do like talking with you. For just a couple of minutes, please?" I sighed and considered what I should do. "She'll only keep pestering me if I try to put her off," I thought, "so I might as well humor her." "OK, Diane, let's talk, but just for fifteen minutes. Then I really must get some sleep. By the way, are you already drunk?" "Negative. I had just one glass of wine before I called. I wanted a clear head for our little chat. And you never answered me, Brad. Where are you and what are you wearing?" "I'm lying in bed, like you, only I'm not naked. I have on a pair of lounging pants. No top." "Sounds sexy. Now, how about making up another story for me? Something that will get me hot." "How about I finish the first story, and tell you what happened after that dinner at Sardis's?" "So you two did get together, after all. Where did you go?" "Sardis's was about four blocks from my hotel, and Alissa, that was her name, by the way, Alissa suggested that we go to a new place where they played soft jazz, and we could have a nightcap." The fact that it was late, and I was getting horny with Kathy's absence, probably contributed to my tale progressing from titillating, as it was on Friday in Diane's kitchen, to much more explicit descriptions of my imaginary lover and me having torrid sex together. OK, I'll admit that thinking of Diane in her bed, listening to me talk to her got my mind into the scene as well. The sexier sequel seemed to be what Diane wanted that night. I could hear over the telephone the sounds of rustling sheets and her sighs and moans. I was fascinated by how easily her mind could stimulate her body, just by listening to me tell a story. My declared limit of talking for just fifteen minutes evaporated into yet another of my good intentions. I found that I wanted to draw out the story, and to make it even steamier, because I, too, was getting turned on from listening to Diane's responses to my words. It came as a shock to me when I paused for a moment, to see two amazing things: the clock read past 1 A.M., and my bed sheet looked like a tent from my raging erection. Gulp! "Diane, I've got to stop," I pleaded hoarsely. "Oh, no, Brad, not just when I'm, er, …, just when your story is almost at its climax." Was that the buzzing of a vibrator that I just heard? "Listen, Diane, we must stop this right now. If you must know, I've gotten turned on from imagining what you look like and what you're doing while we're talking. Your mind is not the only erogenous zone that is being tickled. I feel as embarrassed as a teenager getting an erection on the dance floor." "Ooh! How sweet, Brad. Do you really have an erection, or was that just an author's simile?" "Similes don't leave your pajama bottoms wet, Diane." "I'm not wearing bottoms, but I have made the sheets wet. And it's all because of you, you darling boy." "I can't take all the credit, or blame, as the case might be, Diane. I heard enough to know that you've been playing with yourself. I think that's a healthy thing to do, so just have a good time without me. Goodnight, Diane, and I want you to know that it was good for me, too." I enjoyed hearing Diane's earthy laugh as she hung up. Conscious of my erection and groin urgings, I had a choice of either a cold shower, or giving myself some manual relief. What the hell, I showered in the morning. Wednesday, I cleaned our condo apartment, and worked on the manuscript sent to me to copy edit. There were several times when the novel (it was a ridiculous bodice ripper) described some sex scene. While I tried to read for editing, I found myself recalling the story that I made up for Diane, and wishing that I would have another chance to describe a scene more like my client author did. The blue pencil chore went slowly that day. At one point, to help keep my mind focused on the manuscript words, and not slip into day-dreaming about what I'd like to say to Diane, I put aside my paid work, and scribbled some of my Diane fantasies on a yellow lined legal pad. The time invested paid dividends pretty quickly. Surprise! Who do you think called me at 10:00 that evening? I was sitting up in bed, doing a final once-over scan of the edited manuscript before sending it back to the publisher. When the phone rang, I behaved like a lovesick puppy, hearing the master's footsteps at the door. I quickly closed the manuscript, and grabbed the yellow legal pad with my notes (now how do you suppose that it got on my nightstand?). Once again, Diane and I engaged in our little pillow talk game, only the rules got radically modified. As before, Diane let me initiate the story, and I used one of the fantasy scenarios that I had sketched out earlier in the day. The man/woman characters had met at a social gathering, and were immediately attracted to one another. "And so John and Marcia entered the hotel room," I said in the course of the story. "After turning on the light, both just stared at the king-sized bed which dominated the room, then looked into each other's eyes." To further try to capture Diane's imagination, I then asked her to provide some of the story content. "And what do you think that Marcia did just then, Diane?" "Well, if it were me, I would have excused myself to go to the bathroom, put on some cologne, and got rid of my pantyhose. They're going to get in the way of what Marcia wants from John." "Er, …, good answer, Diane, 'cause that's exactly what Marcia did. And when she returned from the bathroom, she noticed that John had turned down the blanket and top sheet on the bed, and was sitting in the easy chair on the opposite side of the room." "Had he taken off his pants?" Diane asked. "What?" "His pants. If John was really hot after Marcia's body, he would have shown her by getting down to his skivvies. And please tell me, Brad, that he did take off his shoes and socks before Marcia saw him. A man can't ever look more ridiculous than in shorts with his shoes and socks still on." "Umm, that's just what John had done, so Marcia saw this handsome, well-built man sexily attired in just his blue silk boxers, no shoes or socks. Then he told Marcia that he wanted to watch her slowly undress, so that he could admire all her feminine charms as they were exposed, one by one." "Guys really like to see a strip show, don't they?" giggled Diane. "Well, I'll bet that Marcia had the foresight to wear an underwire bra to really push up those gorgeous knockers of hers, plus some lacy thong panties. Sexy underwear does wonders for a woman's feelings, I know. She would face John, who was sitting in the chair, and look deeply into his eyes, and then slowly reach behind her back to unzip her dress. That's what I would have done, anyway. And I would have let it slide over my hips, and puddle on the floor. A graceful step, and John would see my, er, no, her body, clad only in the half-bra and thong panties, plus her spike-heeled strap sandals. If Marcia did that, she and John would have been feeling pretty hot." I chuckled at Diane's contribution to the story. Her earthiness and openness were beginning to attract me. "And that's just how it did happen, Diane. John's eyes widened with delight and desire as he looked at Marcia. He felt his male urges warming up his insides, and his cock began to harden, giving him a large bulge for Marcia to notice." "And Marcia did notice," Diane interjected, picking up on my parody of the bodice-ripper phraseology. "She smiled and licked her lips with anticipation of having John's cock in her mouth. Then she arched her arms behind her back to unhook her bra, letting it slowly slide down her arms to the floor. After letting John get a good look at her naked breasts, she began to tease her nipples to arouse herself." I responded. "John softly gasped with astonishment at how beautiful were Marcia's breasts, even larger than he had imagined. His cock grew ever harder with desire. Oh, how much he wanted this wonderful, gorgeous woman with the sexy, full mouth to come across the room and fondle his cock." "And that's just what Marcia did," Diane whispered with growing excitement. "She cupped her breasts with her hands, walked across the room to John, and offered her ripe globes and pink nipples for his mouth to taste and suckle. It felt so good when his tongue teased her nipples, then his teeth lightly nipped at them. Finally, she gently pushed his mouth away from her breasts, and knelt down in front of John. Staring into his eyes, her hands explored his thighs and crotch, until she found his fly to release John's hard cock. Then she began to slowly and teasingly lick around his shaft and head, tasting his salty pre-cum." I took up the challenge. "John moaned with the pleasure of feeling his cock being licked, and then sucked by Marcia. He encouraged her to continue pleasuring him by riffling his fingers softly through her long, silky hair, sometimes reaching down to caress one of her breasts." And so on it went, back and forth between Diane and me. It was as if we were making love with each other, but using the code of John and Marcia. We understood that it was safe to disclose any of our most personal fantasies, ones that perhaps we would be afraid to share with a real partner, for fear of disappointment or refusal. The story-telling foreplay of John and Marcia was felt and appreciated by Diane and me, although we real people were forced to use self-administered replicas of the physical stimulations that we were describing to each other. My hands were constantly on my cock or teasing my nipples while I talked with Diane, and I could hear her vibrator to know that she, too, was masturbating herself to our little tale of lust. Both of us lasted in our bi-lateral story-telling through John eating Marcia's pussy for her first orgasms, and Marcia sucking John's cock until he came in her mouth. Neither of us, however, could manage either words or control when we progressed to telling how John fucked Marcia, and how she responded. I think that it was I who came first. I was trying to tell Diane how John was feeling just before he came into Marcia, while they were fucking doggie style. My words collapsed into a guttural grunt when my hand action and my mind pushed my cock to spurt a powerful stream of cum. My orgasm continued for three more spurts, and I fell back gasping for breath. As soon as Diane heard my grunts and panting of coming, she, too, went over the brink, and I could hear her primitive mews and soft screams of pleasure from coming. We both lay still for several minutes, trying to catch our breath, neither one daring to disturb the other. Finally, I risked speaking. "Diane, are you OK? That was some exciting story we told each other." In Brad's Mind "Oh, my God, Brad! That was fucking unbelievable! You are one terrific lover, baby. My climax just took my breath away. I want more, Brad." "Please, Diane, I could never continue telling this story tonight. Please don't ask for more." "No, silly, I didn't mean more talk. I meant that I want more of you than just telephone sex. I want the real thing." There was a 'Ping' of caution which momentarily rang in my head, but the testosterone and my still erect cock quickly over-ruled any thought of refusing the offer to taste Diane's body to the fullest. "Let's act the whole John and Marcia thing in real life, tomorrow," I said hopefully. "We'll begin the evening with a dinner at a restaurant, just like our first story. Where should we meet, Diane, and afterwards, your place or mine?" It all sounded too trite, but that was the best I could come up with while still in a post-orgasmic daze. Diane must have been a little more clear-headed. "That's a wonderful idea, Brad. But I want our night out to be really great, with a surprise for you. Let's get together and plan everything. Meet me at the Caribou Coffee place in the mall tomorrow at, say, 10:30. " I eagerly agreed, and fell asleep dreaming of sleeping with Diane the next evening, making a mental note to change the sheets on our bed and clean the bathroom. The next morning I took an extra long shower, a closer shave, and used some of my special cologne. I wanted everything about me to exude the sexy, good-looking guy that would attract Diane. I even re-ironed the chinos and sport shirt that was to be my sophisticated, yet carefree attire for this prelude to our tryst. By 9:00 I had already completed breakfast and dressing, so for the next hour and a half, my head was whirling with sex – in a bed, on the floor, in the shower, you name it. Diane was going to have the time of her life with this eager stud. I managed to drive to the mall without mishap, even though my concentration was limited, got to the parking lot for Caribou's at 10:29. It would be unsophisticated to appear too eager, so I made a walking tour around the first floor of the mall before returning to the coffee shop. It was now 10:38 when I entered Caribou's, just coolly late, I figured. And there was the woman of my dreams, sitting on a sofa next to the fireplace, sexily sipping from her cardboard cup. Ah! It doesn't get better than this. She looked up and saw me, beamed a twenty-four carat smile, and waved. I grinned back, and made a small, suave head nod of greeting, then motioned that I was going to get my coffee and be right back. The serving queue was five deep, and I was forced to wriggle my way past a clutch of customers adding sugar and lightener to join in the order line. Damn! The crowd of people obscured my vision of Diane, and the service time seemed interminable. At last, I got my Colombian latte with a dash of Amoretti flavor, and I navigated through the other caffeine addicts, back to my prospective partner. Imagine my shock when I finally made it back to fireplace, fully intending to brush hips with Diane on the sofa, when my intended seat was already occupied. By a woman! Whom I know! It was Teri Theriot, the wife of Allen, also one of Kathy's co- workers. Of all the bad luck. Now Diane and I must be very discrete. It was the time for me to be really cool, which is something I'm usually not. (Please don't say that you've already noticed.) "Teri Theriot," I began while showing a toothy smile. "And Diane Malinovski, too. What a pleasant surprise! Would you mind if I joined you?" "Mind?" Teri asked. "For God's sake, Diane told us to meet her here, Brad, or should I call you John?" She wore an 'I know the whole story' sort of grin. I choked on the sip of latte in my mouth, resulting in a most uncool session of coughing. "Oh, shit!" I thought to myself. "Now I'm in the soup." I gave a bewildered look at Diane. "I take it, Diane, that you've shared out little telephone chats of the last couple of evenings with Teri?" I asked. "Of course, sweety. Teri and I are the closest of friends. We share almost everything. You might be interested to know that our sharing even includes our husbands and lovers." More latte down my windpipe. More choking and coughing. Brad the cool was becoming Brad the jerk at a very rapid rate. While I was trying to clear my lungs with a really large cough, I noticed Teri finding all my discomfort and shock as extremely hilarious. "From the look on your face, Brad, and your choking on your coffee," she said, "I assume that Diane did not tell you that I was meeting with you as well." "She did say something about having a surprise for me when we talked last night," I managed to choke out between hacks. Diane and Teri slid toward the arms of the sofa, offering me a narrow seat between them. I squeezed in, making full-thigh contact with each woman. Diane began patting me on the back to help me catch my breath, and Teri indulged in sliding her hand discretely up and down my inner thigh. (Don't you just love these modern, shy ladies?) "Well, Brad," Diane replied, "I guess that you could call Teri part of the surprise. But my surprise also includes David, Allen, and your dear Kathy as well." I was now totally confused. "Um, …, I thought, Diane, that you and I were going to discuss, er, that is, …, well, you know." "How we were going to have sex, you mean, Brad? Well, we are, but I had to have Teri here as well. She's going to be joining our party. How else would the numbers be equal between our night out here at home, and our spouses ménage night out in Arizona?" My head was clear enough to grasp what she was implying, but the concept made it spin several revolutions. "My God!" I thought. "Here I am just getting my nerve up to the point of discussing an adulterous act with this woman, and she's talking about a swing with her, Teri, and me, and at the same time their husbands will be balling my wife in a threesome of their own." I tried to act calmly, but my voice cracked with nervous emotion as I asked Teri a question. "Ah, Teri, tell me. How long have you been in on this idea of Diane's and your husbands?" "Well, Di and I have speculated for a couple of months whether you and Kathy would ever consider partying it up with us four. But it was last Saturday, when Diane shared with us your delightfully funny time with her at Ken's party, that we just knew that we all wanted you two to swing with us." "And so, Diane, you talked to me for the last two nights to get me turned on to the idea. Why you, and not Teri?" "Well, Brad, a woman knows which men are attracted to her, and I was attracted to you as well, so it was just natural that you and I got the ball rolling." She and Teri began to giggle when they realized the entrendre her 'ball rolling' implied. The humor registered with me, but I was still too confused to appreciate it. "Have either or both of you considered what might happen if Kathy refuses to, er, how did you call it, have a menage with your husbands?" Teri smiled enigmatically. "Really, David. Women can tell when another woman can be persuaded to be sexually adventurous. We just know that Kathy will party it up with Allen and David." The look on my face must have told Diane and Teri that I was mixed up in my feelings toward this preposterous, yet temptingly fantastic, idea. The two women then started on me like two lawyers arguing their case. "Are you concerned about how Kathy would feel if you party it up with Teri and me, or is it your feelings about Kathy doing the same thing?" Diane asked. Then Teri jumped with a killer question. "Tell me honestly how you feel, Brad. Do you think that Kathy would agree to a threesome with David and Allen?" If I were forced to describe Kathy's attitude toward sex in one word, it word be just what Teri used - adventuresome. And considering that she will have gone over a week and half without sex, what with conference preparations the week before, and celibacy during the sales conference, I knew that she would be ready for some serious adult partying. "Without a doubt," I had to admit. "If your husbands, who happen to be quite good-looking, put any kind of moves on her, yeah, she'll be a willing participant." Back came Diane with the clincher. "Well, then, Brad, if you know that Kathy will be screwing other men, and just ten minutes ago you were hot to plan how to have sex with me, your reluctance can't be guilt about cheating." "Yeah, you're right, Diane, but for the last several days, my fantasy has been about getting you somewhere alone, and then we'd, well, you know." Diane touched my cheek tenderly. "And we still will do the you know, sweety. More than once. But you get a bonus, you get to fuck Teri as well." To try to seal Diane's bonus offer, at the same moment Teri moved her hand up my thigh and gave my cock a squeeze, and whispered, "Both David and Allen have told me that no one gives better blow jobs than I do, Brad." I had always thought that guys (and gals, too for that matter) make their stupidest decisions in bars, where the alcohol, the cigarette smoke, and a person's ego do strange things to rationale thinking. Perhaps latte with whipped cream in a Caribou Coffee shop, plus that dumb ego, can have the same effect. It did for me, for I heard my voice say that I might as well go along with the crowd, and join a spousal threesome that night, while the company professionals would be doing the same out in Arizona. Diane and Teri professed their delight in my decision, icing my cake with two hard kisses on my mouth. Our making out next to the fireplace drew stares from the other customers and wait staff, ranging from righteous indignation to admiring grins. The two women then rose from their seats, and said their goodbyes, abandoning me for the hedonistic pleasures of shopping. Teri claimed that she needed a sexy black mini- dress and sequined pantyhose, just like Marcia in Diane's and my story. Diane puckered and gave me one of those air kisses as she and Teri started for the door. "We'll see you at 7:00 at the bar in the Gallo Nero restaurant, Brad. You are going to have the time of your life tonight, I promise." Well, the die was cast, and cool Brad Worth was now on the hook for a hot threesome. (I'm certain you have already realized that this was going to be a first for me.) I once saw a person wearing a sweatshirt on which was printed the statement "Anxiety is when your stomach says No Way, but your mouth has already said OK." At that moment, I related to that sweatshirt. My latte was now cold, and it tasted like some bitter potion. I went to a nearby Tex-Mex restaurant and perked myself up with a salty/sweet margarita, enchiladas, and re-fried beans. To further stoke my fires, after the lunch I visited the mall bookstore, and read through some of the paperbacks on the 'Erotic' shelf. Surprisingly, the tactics worked pretty well, and by about two in the afternoon, I felt eager for the impending action that evening. So much so, that, like an athlete before the big event, I decided to go home and take a nap to conserve my energy. I woke up around five, showered, shaved, and got dressed for the big date. I selected my dark brown suit (I'm an autumn, by the way), ecru-colored Egyptian cotton shirt, a Gerry Garcia designed tie, and brown tasseled slip-ons. Oh, yes, my only shopping preparation purchase – blue silk boxers. Surveying myself in front of the hall mirror just prior to leaving for the restaurant, I saw handsome Brad Worth, womanizer extraordinaire. I had expected the Saturday night traffic to be heavy, but for some unexplained reason, I made it to the restaurant with fifteen minutes to spare. Even the parking gods looked down favorably upon this humble mortal, and I made a perfect back-in parallel park at a curb spot only a half-block from the Gallo Nero restaurant (That's 'Black Rooster' for you non-Italians. Take a look at what you see on a bottle of real imported Chianti sometime.) I decided to kill the surplus time by waiting in the car, rather than sit at the bar and get one or two drinks ahead of Diane and Teri. I had no experience as to how punctual these two women are. My leather-covered car seats recline, so I indulged, languidly relaxing in a nearly horizontal position. Closing my eyes, I tried to imagine the bedroom scene with Diane, Teri, and me. Up until that moment, it had never occurred to me that a person's mind has a funny little trick to play, as one envisions the appearance of your partner in a sexual context. I would call the trick 'Love or Lust.' I fantasized myself looking at both women, who were still on the other side of the room. The figure in the sexy black dress was Teri, but try as I might, I could not visualize her facial features, especially her mouth and eyes. In contrast, my Diane figure had only a vague outline of body, yet I could see every detail of her face. Her hazel eyes were sparkling with wit and a free spirit, and her smile was beamed exclusively for me. I thought of something funny to say, and her vision face broke up with an amused, earthy laugh. Thinking back to Teri, her body shape just became more vivid, posing like a mannequin. Perplexed, I tried to fast-forward to a mental picture of us three engaged in sweaty sex. Again, I could see Diane's body, head and hands moving sensually in rhythm, desire in her eyes and a full, open mouth. For Teri, all I could conjure up were close-ups of parts of her female anatomy – all very sexy and beautiful, mind you, but still only parts functioning for the sexual activity. It didn't take a psychoanalyst's assistance for me to realize what was going on in my mind: to me, Teri was only an attractive and available sex object; however, I could see things about Diane that went deeper than breasts, nipples, labia and clitoris. My mind played the trick that I could only lust after Teri, but I was in love with Diane. I then tried to visualize Kathy, whom I loved very dearly, as she might appear when she was partying it up with David and Allen. Nothing but body parts, male and female. However, when I dreamed about her making love with me, her bright eyes, laughing smile and tender lips and fingers were in vivid detail. Perhaps it is different for other folks who are able to fantasize and see all their sexual partners in the same detail, but I rather doubt it. My opinion would be that anyone who claims to do that is probably not that deeply in love with another person. I never went into the restaurant. Instead, I drove around aimlessly for a while before returning home. It was only 7:45, so I stopped at Blockbuster, and rented a DVD – Ocean's Eleven. I had seen it already, but it suited me that night – it had little man/woman action, and even that was reassuring, because George Clooney knew all along that Julia Roberts would come back to him, in spite of divorcing him and sleeping with the casino manager (I forget his name). As I expected when I arrived back at our condo, the answering machine was blinking with two messages. Ignoring them, I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, poured a glass of milk, and started the DVD. The movie was about half over, at around nine, when the phone rang. I let the machine pick up, and heard Teri's angry voice. "Brad, you chicken-hearted sonofabitch, pick up the goddamned phone. I know you're there. What the hell's the matter with you, standing us up like that? Don't ever think that you will get another chance, you asshole. I'll have you know that David and Diane, and Allen and I have worked very hard at keeping our lifestyle discrete. If you go and breathe even one word about us, so help me, I'll make Kathy look like the queen of all sluts." After a few seconds of quiet, I heard Diane's voice, and I felt a knot in my stomach. "Brad, this is Diane. Please forgive Teri for what she just said to you. I'm with her, and she is frantic with worry that you are going to expose us to Ken or our neighbors or someone, and our lives will be ruined. I can't believe that you would do such a cruel thing; it's not like you." "I think I now know why you did what you did, and the screwup is probably my fault. Since Ken's party, and this week, I thought that we were hitting it off very well." "Oh, if only you knew, Diane," I thought to myself. She continued. "I want to explain why I surprised you by bringing Teri into our party-going. For some time, whenever Teri or I wanted to, shall we say, slip the leash of married life, we went together as a pair, never alone, and always very discrete. I wanted you very much this morning, and my desire didn't let me read your signals that you were trying to give me. After what you did tonight, I can see that you are not the kind of man who wants mere recreational sex. You want to give of yourself to your woman, not simply take what is being offered to you. You tried to take, but you're too strongly principled about mating, even in the face of knowing that Kathy was having sex with our husbands. You are really quite an unusual man, Brad. I could very easily fall in love with you." "What I am concerned about, Brad, is how you and Kathy are going to deal with this. Teri and I both tried to reach David and Allen on their cell phones, and left messages at the hotel, but they've never called back. I think that they're already partying it up somewhere with Kathy. When they get back to their hotel, David is going to know what happened here, and probably tell Kathy. Please try to reach Kathy as soon as possible, and beg her to act as if nothing has happened, at least until we're all back together again. David and Allen do not deserve to have their reputations and careers shattered, because I did something terribly foolish. Please try, Brad, for all of our sakes." She was crying as she hung up. I never thought of how Kathy was going to feel! I knew that she would come back from her adventures wanting to share all with me. But she'd only want to share because she believed that I was out with the wives of the men she was with. If she learned that I was too chicken to risk swinging, she was going to have a horrible guilt trip, and this episode would haunt us until we break up. And, no, she probably would not be able to hide her feelings well enough on the plane trip back home tomorrow. Well, Brad old man, as Stan Laurel used to say, "It's a fine mess you've got us in this time, Ollie." But then I remembered that Diane said that she and Teri were unable to reach David and Allen. I tried to think out the possibilities. "There's no way that Kathy could know that I'm not swinging with Diane and Teri, while she is balling their husbands. I'll just have to convince her that I had the same kind of experience as she did, and maybe, just maybe, we can keep things stable. At least until we all can talk about this together. Thank goodness that we're two hours ahead of Arizona time." I waited until after one o'clock our time, figuring that Diane, Teri, and I would be exhausted by then, and left a message in Kathy's room to call me back when she returned, no matter how late, so that we could share our unique experiences with each other. I had to force myself to stay awake for several more hours before Kathy finally called me back, but I spent the time creating an erotic tale about our local ménage a trios, that I was going to spin for Kathy. It took a lot of imagination on my part, I'll have you know, considering that I had zero experience of doing it with two women at the same time. But with the telephone sex practice that Diane had given me, I conjured up all sorts of exciting and physically challenging things that one man and two women can do in a bedroom. Kathy finally called me around four o'clock our time. I could tell in her voice that she had had the time of her life, and was very eager to tell me all about it. That was good, because I got to first listen to her story, so that when she asked for mine, I could tell just the right level of sexual activity to match her own. And let me tell you, her story required a damn high level from me. Oh, that's right, she already told her story, so you know what I'm talking about. In Brad's Mind So I got to tell Kathy almost all my imagined exploits with Diane and Teri, but not quite all. Let's see, I began with my voyeuristic spectacle of watching the two women get it on together, then moved to our three-way triangle on the bed, where each of us was licking on a cock or a pussy, then every ten minutes, reversing positions. After this foreplay, I went on to where Diane reclined on the bed, supported by pillows, legs spread, with Teri resting in between. While Diane kissed Teri, and tormented her breasts, I was eating her pussy until she was wild with passion, ultimately coming with a screaming climax, at which time, my cock replaced my tongue in Teri's pussy to fuck her to three more orgasms. And that was only half time. I told Kathy more stories of how Diane and I had still more orgasms (God, I hope that Kathy never expects me to actually perform like the sexual athlete I was pretending to be!). Between her tales told to me, and my imaginings told to her, Kathy was riding an ecstatic high, even bubbling over about how David and Allen, and Diane and Teri wanted us to make a permanent six-person swinging group. She asked me what I thought of the idea, but I deflected it by saying that we should talk it over when we're all together at the airport. We finally said good night, and I fell asleep with relief and exhaustion. In reflection, that night I learned several things about myself: first, I can only make love with someone that I truly love; secondly, it is possible to be in love with more than one person at time; and, lastly, I can bullshit with the best of them. Well, you heard from Kathy what I told the other five at the airport the next day. It took a pretty good story to get all of them to believe my reason for copping out of threesomes and moresomes. It is great to know that all three of us couples came out of that farce with not only no hard feelings, but the six of us are now very good friends. I wouldn't quite call it unrequited love, but there have been times when I have fantasized about being in bed with Diane. And there have been times when the group has gotten together that she has caught my eye and smiled, sort of telling me that she fantasizes as well. My only regret in the whole incident is that since that weekend, I have never had the opportunity to be alone with Diane to explain how I feel about her, and why I declined hers and Teri's offer of a terrific night. ********************************************************* "So that is the whole story, Allen." I concluded. "It was fun re-telling it to you, even though it has made me yearn a little more for Diane." "You sure can tell a great story, Brad," replied Allen. "I want to read your new book, if it's just half as good as this was. So, if I understand your feelings, you are strongly attracted to Diane, and at the same time love Kathy." "Yeah, I would have to admit that, Allen, but you mustn't ever tell Diane or Kathy." "They'll never hear it from me, Brad. And regarding Teri, you like her, but just don't have strong enough personal attachment to her to feel comfortable including her with you and Diane?" "That's true, but it's not just Teri. I have come to realize that I am just not the kind of person that could ever enjoy group sex. That's not to say that I criticize what forms of recreation you and David and your wives enjoy. And Kathy has more than once confided to me that she sometimes wishes that she could enjoy another night out with the boys. I even told her that I wouldn't mind, but she won't agree unless I could enjoy a night out as well." "So if we could arrange a night out where it was just you and Diane together, and the other four of us were a group, you'd be agreeable? Just hypothetically speaking, of course, Brad. I'm just trying to make certain I understand how things are between us three couples." "Well, then, hypothetically speaking, Allen, yes, if such a twosome, foursome arrangement were agreeable with you, David, Kathy, and Teri, I'd agree. But only if Diane could convince me that for her it was giving of ourselves to each other, and not simply one woman taking pleasure from one man." Just then, on my cell phone I heard Diane's voice. "If I told you that I love you, too, Brad, would that convince you? Look over to the gate counter." I looked and was astonished. There, standing in line for checkin, stood Diane. She was dressed in dark tailored slacks, a loose, white silky blouse, and suede flats. Her blond hair was highlighted by large gold hoops dangling from her ears. One hand was pulling a small roll-along suitcase, over which was folded a light brown alpaca coat. In the other hand, she held a cell phone to her ear. I almost melted when she turned one of her 24-carat smiles at me. "Hi, sweety," I heard in my phone. "I didn't hear it from Allen, but now I know how you feel about me. And you should now know how I feel about you. Now get your hunky butt over here, and kiss me. And, Allen, thank you for arranging all this, but now it's time to hang up. Brad and I will see you and the gang late tomorrow." I did as commanded by Diane, and floated over to her. The other passengers standing in line giggled, and some even applauded when we gave each other a long, wet kiss. "Now, Brad, I need your ticket. David has given us some of his Frequent Flier mileage to upgrade to First Class. He wants us to drink champagne, and truly make it the friendly skies. Oh, and Allen and Teri have made reservations for two at Sardi's tonight, and Allen told them to charge the dinner to his credit card." The look on my astonished face made little crinkly lines around Diane's eyes as she burst into earthy laughter. God! How that look thrills me, and instantly makes me want to laugh as well. Then a thought came over me. I looked at Diane inquiringly. "How was I talking to Allen one moment, and you the next?" I asked her. "Easy. Cell phone conference. You were the last one dialed." "Then, Kathy…, that is, she heard everything, along with Teri and David also?" "You got it, Brad. But don't get mad at Allen. They never heard anything from him." "So when Allen spoke of dividing the group into a twosome and a foursome, he wasn't speaking hypothetically, was he?" Diane grinned mischievously. "No, my sweet. I don't believe that he was." Diane lightly kissed my cheek, then placed her finger on my lips. "Don't say another word, my darling. Just remember what you said the last time you were here in the airport. What goes on the road, stays on the road, and what goes on at home, stays at home." She had me there, so I giggled with her, and took her hand to board the plane for New York. After our first glass of champagne in the air, I asked Diane a question. "Diane, when I embraced you in the lounge, I could tell. How come you didn't have the foresight to wear an underwire bra to really push up those gorgeous knockers of yours?" "Silly, no woman in her right mind would wear a bra like that on a long airplane trip. It's in my luggage, along with that sexy black dress, sequined hose, thong panties, and spike-heeled shoes, just like Marcia wore. Oh, plus one more thing – a pair of blue silk boxers."