2 comments/ 52139 views/ 5 favorites Unusual Threesome By: sammican1 Chapter 1 Sammi had never felt such a beautiful coming together of her emotional and physical needs. She had never experienced such a combination of feelings and sensations. Never before had her mental state so coincided with her physical needs in such an awesomely satisfying and pleasurable manner. Tenderness, caring, sensitivity, being wanted, being needed, belonging, giving and taking, were all there. The feelings went deeper than liking and fancying, maybe they bordered on, or were, love! Every sexually sensitive part of her body was aflame, every inch of her skin was tingling, her breasts felt so full and heavy and her nipples ached with need. It was like one continuous, ongoing orgasm that increased in intensity as it went on. It hadn't been like this when she lost her virginity, nor during her two brief love affairs. It also hadn't been anything like this when she and her half-brother Gareth had had sex several times. But she was feeling this amazing amalgam of feelings now, in a threesome with her friends, Claire and Greg. Chapter 2 Immediately Claire broached the subject, Sammi's mind had gone back to a long, slightly drunken conversation Claire and she had had just before Sammi finished at uni. a year or so ago. "I think she's absolutely gorgeous," Claire had said as they watched Helen Mirren in a film on TV. Greg, Claire's thirty five year old partner was out for the evening, and Sammi and she had been out to dinner. They had 'staggered' back to Claire and Greg's tiny cottage in town near to the university where Sammi was just completing her finals. They had become friends after meeting in cafe where Sammi sometimes went to study. Claire had a degree in English from London. As Sammi was also studying English they had an instant interest in common. From that, their friendship had grown and now included Claire's partner Greg. Sammi occasionally went to dinner at the cottage, the three of them would now and then go out, for Sammi didn't have a boy friend, although both Greg and Claire had offered to 'fix her up' many times, and both of them had visited Sammi at her parent's house in Essex. Although there was an eight-year age gap between them, Claire and Sammi had always got on very well. "Just like sisters," Claire's mum had said when she met Sammi. Apart from Sammi's, almost natural, long blonde hair, they were similar. Claire had shoulder-length, brown hair with natural auburn tints. They were about the same height, both were slim, size tens, with b to c cup boobs, trim waists, flat tums, nice legs and great bums. 'Two fantastic packages,' Greg had once described them. "I do too, her and Susan Sarandon are two of my favourite film stars," Sammi had replied. "Yes I think both are fantastic." "They're both very ready it seems to get their kit off," Sammi said smiling. "Well they have got the bodies for that, haven't they?" "Yes, did you see the photos in the newspapers of Helen in that red bikini?" Sammi asked "Mmmm, yes and she's sixty you know." "And I guess SS must be about the same." Claire paused for a moment as refilled their glasses. "Have you ever seen Hunger?" "No what's that?" "A film with Susan Sarandon and Catherine Deneuve." "How old is it?" "It must ten or fifteen years, Catherine is a vampire." "What like Dracula?" "Sort of, but much more subtle than that," Claire explained. "I'm not really into that sort of stuff," Sammi explained." "Oh it wasn't that which made me ask." "What was it then?" "It was talking about their bodies, you see rather a lot of hers in it." "I saw quite a lot in White Tower, I think it was called, she seduces a young guy, very sexy." "In Hunger she's the one who gets seduced." Claire advised. "Oh who by?"Sammmi asked. "Catherine Deneuve." "Oh are they lesbians then?" "No not at all, they both just enjoy sex. It's probably the most erotic scene I have ever seen in a film. Watch it on youtube." "Ok I will, for sure," Sammi said making a mental to do so. "You ever done anything like that Sam?" Claire asked. "What with another woman?" "Yes." "No I haven't, have you?" "Yes when I was at uni, nothing serious or heavy." "I often think about what it would be like though," Sam told her, before they heard Greg's key in the lock and they changed the subject. Chapter 3. Sammi had been a slow starter with sex. For no particular reason and certainly not because she was a prude, she had hung on to her cherry until well into her nineteenth year. Losing it hadn't seemed that big a deal and the occasion was certainly nothing that special. Shortly after that, she went to university in Bristol and wasn't that active there either, having only two brief affairs, both with older guys. So, by the age of twenty one, she had only had full sex with three men. Since her twenty first birthday party just over a year ago, things had changed massively. And she put a lot of that down to wearing stockings. Why? She wasn't sure, but they seemed to do something to her. She wore them under her long ball-gown at her party and she was sure they were the main reason that she and Gareth, her half brother, had full sex that night. She wore them at her graduation when she ended up being fucked by one of her ex tutors. And when she had worn them other times she always seemed to nearly get laid. Her first taste of sex with Gareth had, coincidentally, been at her eighteenth birthday party. There, he had fingered her to a climax, although at the time, she wasn't completely sure what they were. In the subsequent three years, they had gone further. Sammi had masturbated him, he had sucked her nipples and several times they had both been naked, but they hadn't fucked. That happened, though, at her twenty-first when he had worked out she was wearing stockings. It had been repeated several times since, even though both of them were critically aware of the problems for they both had the same father, Kevin, but different mothers. As Sammi's interest in, and experience of sex increased during her twenty second year, so she found herself becoming curious about sex with other females. She had thought about it a lot for some time and being a blonde haired, blue eyed beauty, she had been propositioned many times, with several of these being whilst she was at university, including one from a lecturer. She had turned them all down. Again, she was not quite sure why, for she was hellishly curious, and she didn't really have a moral issue with same gender sex. Probably just circumstances and the dykie old birds that had tried it on she smiled ruefully whenever she thought about it. She was aware, though, that just as had she had been with Gareth, she was primed for it and felt that sooner or later it would happen. No rush though. Chapter 3. She opened her legs wider. He reached behind his legs and grabbed her ankles. Yanking them upward he pushed them over his shoulders. He then surged harder and faster into his wife's stretched and gaping hole. "That's what you want isn't it?" He asked. "Yes, I want it deep." "You want a deep, long fuck don't you?" "Yes," she grunted back loving the ease with which her partner's cock slid up and down inside her. She was so wet. He proceeded to shag her with long deep thrusts. Each surge into her sending shudders of sexual delight through her slim, but nicely rounded body and creating those glorious 'male' feelings in his balls and cock. Sex between lovers can be so wonderful. "Harder, fuck me harder." He slammed himself up her as firmly as he could both of them delighting in his balls slapping against her arse. "You near?" He asked, holding himself stiff and rigid deeply inside her. "Yes." "Then wait," he said pushing himself up and supporting his body with his straightened arms. Greg liked looking at Claire as he made her cum. He loved the way she tightly closed her eyes, opened her mouth, ran her tongue over her lips and lolled her head from side to side. He liked see the beads of perspiration on her forehead, the way her hair fell over her face, how hard her little nipples got and the way her breasts wobbled as the tremors of sensation ripped through her. She orgasmed quite easily and tonight was no exception. He watched fascinated as she held her own breasts, squeezed them and pinched and pulled her nipples. "Make me cum now," she groaned. "Shoot your cum in me." Rolling her head from side to side, moaning and groaning, grunting and sighing Claire started to climax. The shudders going through her body caused her to contract and let go of his cock with her cunt muscles, which together with two more slow deep thrusts was enough for Greg. He exploded inside her and fell down on her. She was snuggled up to him. His arm was round her shoulders and her head was resting on his chest. He was holding her breast, she was running her fingers down his flat stomach into the tighter curls of his pubic hairs at the base of his cock. They were both still wet with the secretions of their sexual pleasures. It was at times like these that they talked about sex. They exchanged past experiences and touched on their fantasies. They were both sexually pretty liberated and adventurous. They were sexually ambitious and wanted more experiences. That's why they had been swinging, twice, one time unfortunately being less successful than the other. They had even talked about dogging, but were yet to take that on. "I want to see you with another woman," Greg had said several times in the past and repeated it now. "I know." Claire replied. Several times before, he had asked Claire to tell him about her 'girly affairs' as she called the two flings she'd had at uni. Each time she had, he'd almost instantly got hard and they'd had sex for the second time far more quickly than usual. As with many men, Greg had a fascination with girl on girl action. Claire had so far not agreed to going with another girl as he watched, but equally she hadn't said totally no. Whilst she couldn't quite get her head round the practical details of firstly, finding and then propositioning another girl and then secondly, arranging things so Greg could watch, she had to admit the idea excited her. She had enjoyed her bi adventures and had always thought that one day she would have more. She knew she wasn't fully bisexual, whatever that is, as she equally knew that having sexual pleasure with a sister certainly was not, and did not lead to, being lesbian. The feeling of her partner's lovely cock in her hand and the wondrous feelings it had just given her attested to that. She nibbled his nipple, a little too hard. "Ouch," Greg said, "That hurt, you vicious minx," he said giving her bum a light smack. "If you're not careful I'll put you over my knee." "Always promising aren't you? All words and no action." "Would you like me to spank you?" He asked. "I'm not sure, maybe some time." "The trouble is Claire we'd probably laugh." "Yes that's true it's all a bit contrived isn't it?" "Yes, not like you and another girl." "Would you want to join in, Greg?" "Not sure, what would you think?" "I'm not sure either." They were silent for a while as they both thought about what Greg had been saying. Claire lifted her head and kissed Greg, fully on the lips. At the same time she stroked his balls, she knew he liked that. She was rewarded by feeling some movement in his cock. In a rather coquettish tone Claire said. "What about me with another man, would you like to see that?" "No," was his immediate reply. "What about me with another woman?" "Would you like to do that?" "What shag another woman?" "Yes as I watched." He was in the typical male Catch 22 here, on a loser whichever way he went. He had been faithful to Claire as she had to him since they had become a number some ten years ago. "I really don't know Claire." "Ok let me make it easier. If I said I really don't mind, would you like to then?" "I dunno, I really don't," Greg said keeping his thoughts to himself for, in reality, he would love to do that. "Ok let's say I picked the girl and introduced you to her?" "Claire this daft and bloody unfair." "You started it." "Yes I know." "Ok let me go further." She said, now eagerly stroking his growing erection. Greg couldn't work out what she was getting at and put it down to their conversation just drifting. 'Interesting though,' he thought, enjoying the feel of his wife getting him hard and her breast in his hand. "How do you mean go further?" Claire paused, partly for effect, but also to make sure she really wanted to say what was in her mind. "Go on then," Greg said. "Ok, what would you say if the other girl was Sammi?" "Fuck off Claire," he reacted, "Stop pissing about." "What if it was Sammi laying on our bed, just dressed in the black stockings she wore at the graduation." "Jesus, was she wearing stockings?" "Yes, and the next day when that bastard David D fucked her in them." "Would you like to fuck her in them Greg?" She asked, knowing full well the answer for what was in her hand gave her that. She squeezed his now full erection. "Is this your answer?" "Oh fuck this is so unfair." "Good fun though isn't it? "Yes." "Ok then, big boy, now you are good and ready, why don't you fuck me again and don't imagine you're fucking Sammi will you?" Chapter 4 "Greg's going to meet us at the restaurant, we're going to Harvey's, which you know is just round the corner," Claire was saying to Sammi on the phone. "Bit posh isn't it? Is it a frock job then?" "I think so don't you? It's quite nice to dress up a bit now and then, and it is a sort of special occasion isn't it Sammi?" "Not a sort of Claire, a bloody stupendously, big occasion in my book." Claire laughed. "I mean it luv," Sammi went on. "After all it's not often a girl gets shagged by her best friend and her partner in one night is? To me that is a very big occasion." "I know darling and it will be for us. Greg's had an almost permanent stiffy since I told him it was on." Claire had broached the subject to Sammi a couple of weeks ago. She had previously told her how Greg sometimes asked her to dress up in sexy undies; sussie belts, stockings, basques and waspies and even crutchless panties and half cup bras. She had also told Sammi that at times her relationship with Greg needed to be perked up. Claire was staying with Sammi at her mother, Amanda, and father, Kevin's house in a London suburb in Essex. She was there to do some early Christmas shopping. They had plenty of time to talk and again, somehow, in Sammi's view, but purposefully in Claire's, after they had eaten a delivered Thai meal and drunk a bottle of Kevin's Premier Cru Chablis, the topic was girl to girl sex. "Did you ever watch that film Hunger, that I told you about?" Claire had, quite innocently at first, asked. Sammi said she hadn't. "Like to watch a youtube clip now?" Claire suggested. "Sure, but we'd better go to my room as mum could walk in here any moment," Sammi advised. They went into the suite over the garage and pool changing rooms where Sammi had a bedroom, bathroom and study. Sammi had never watched much porn, just the odd clip here and there, and had seen no real erotic material on film. Nevertheless, she sat transfixed as the gorgeous Susan Sarandon asked the equally gorgeous Catherine Deneuve if she was trying to seduce her? She was even more transfixed when Catherine did just that. As the stupendous, classical music filled the room and as Susan undressed and laid on the bed, her beautiful breasts bare, Sammi felt her body reacting, very strongly. Claire, as always when she watched this scene and she and Greg did that regularly, became very aroused; she imagined herself on that bed with one or both of them. "I see what you mean," Sammi said as the laptop stopped after reaching the end of the clip. "Is that erotic or what?" Claire asked. "I have never seen anything like it," Sammi replied. "And it can be like that." "Really can it?" Sammi said, flustered and confused. "Yes Sammi," Claire said placing her fingers lightly on the back of her younger friend's hand. They looked at each other. "Can I ask you something terribly personal Sammi?" "Yes, of course Claire." "Well you know I said Greg and I need things from time to time to spice up our relationship?" "Yes, as I imagine most do." "Well we do and we want to try a threesome Sammi," she blurted out, crossing her fingers behind her back. Sammi was still aroused, confused and somewhat flustered, so she didn't work out what was inevitably coming next "Really?" She said totally nonplussed and non-commital. "Yes Sammi and we would like you to be the third person in it with Greg and me." Chapter 5. Sammi was wearing a dark blue, just above the knee, sheath dress which had gilt buttons all the way up the front. Several buttons were undone so she was showing an interesting amount of flesh and, for her breast size, a very respectable cleavage; 'It's a wonder what good bras can do?' She often thought. Around her neck, she had one of those modern multi-strand necklaces with what looked like little silver leaves hanging on it. She was wearing a wide, belt, which emphasised the narrowness of her waist and the womanly flair of her hips. She had left the bottom three buttons of the dress undone, so that when she was seated and crossed her legs, it rode up and fell apart. A close inspection of her legs would have almost, but not quite seen the darker band that held her self-support, fishnet, seamed stockings in place. Claire was wearing a stunning red dress. It had a halter neck that gaped when she leaned forward, was pinched in tight at the waist and flared out down the knee-length skirt. She was also wearing one of those fashionable 'big' necklaces and diamond stud earrings, which Greg had bought her to celebrate their ten years together. She had beige, suede, peek a boo high heels on which had a thin ankle strap. Just above that, Sammi was pleased to see, there was some wrinkles, which were the give away that she too was wearing stockings, white ones. Claire usually wore her hair in a pony-tail, but tonight it was piled up on her head with ringlets falling down her face and neck. It looked lovely. "Bloody hell, look at you two," Greg said giving them both a peck on the cheek when he joined them. He was wearing a dark blue, open neck shirt, a beige jacket, blue, linen trousers, tan loafers and no socks. He looked good. 'I am going to make love to Claire and be fucked by Greg,' were the words that kept going through Sammi's mind as they ate the disappointing dinner. None of them could relax. "Maybe we should have eaten at home?" Claire said as Greg paid the bill and they left after just an hour or so. "Perhaps," Greg said as they walked the less than quarter of a mile to the cottage. They said little more, they were each feeling the tension in different ways. Although Claire had been the main promoter of this, she was far from sure she was doing the right thing. Mixing friendship with sex can be very dangerous even when the sex is straightforward, like shagging a mate. When it is as complicated as what they were going to do there was so many areas where problems could arise. Would she be jealous when Greg made love to Sammi? Who would she be jealous of, also occurred to her? How would she feel making love to Sammi as he watched, would she be able to, even? How would Greg choose who to shag first, would there be a meaning if he chose Sammi and would Sammi feel left out if he chose her? God, the complications had been increasing and becoming more complicated ever since Sammi's reply to her question, "Will you be?" had been, after a suitable thinking time. "Yes Claire, I will." Unusual Threesome I grunted as it slid into me, but then I often do. In fact I suspect that most women do. After all, it is one of the loveliest feelings anyone, well any female at least I'm not sure about men, can experience: a cock slipping up you that is. I was on my side facing away from him. It was fairly late, nearly midnight, I was tired and he had been drinking. Not heavily to the point of being drunk or performance inhibiting, but to the level where inhibitions are reduced and ambitions are increased. I knew that would mean that he would want a bloody good shag and that he would be unlikely to take no for an answer. So I didn't say no and we did have a bloody good shag. But then that is the role of a wife. I always sleep naked. I had gone to bed after News at Ten, when I had imagined the gorgeous Julie Etchingham and the ridiculous James Mates fucking on that big desk they now use as part of the set. I hadn't masturbated, as I often do when Bruce is due to be home late, but had quickly fallen asleep. When I felt a hand cupping my breast I wasn't sure who it was, James Mates, my husband or even the gorgeous Julie! I quickly realised it wasn't her, though, when I felt an erection pressing against my bum. "It's late," I groaned as he squeezed my breasts and gently pinched my nipple. "Yes darling, but never too late for this," he went on pushing his cock against my bum. "Oh Bruce," "Oh Monica," he mimicked. He started to push his cock between my legs. I opened them a little to give him easier access. Although I wasn't one hundred per cent up for such late night sex when I had to be up early to get to work, I had never refused my husband and didn't want to start now. I wasn't that sort of wife. "Mmmmm nice," he whispered as the tip of his cock found my lips. He slipped his other arm round me and ran that down my stomach onto the patch of neatly trimmed pubes which were shaped similar to, but not quite, a landing strip, a fashion I had only recently learned about. "I like that," he murmured stroking me there. He pushed it further and found my clit, which is quite pronounced and easy to find for the folds are not deep. My body shuddered with the surge of sexual feelings. I assume that made me wet for he then slid effortlessly into me making me grunt. ++ "Take it off." "No, I can't here." "Why not, no one will see." "What if someone comes along." "Just pull your top up, after all darling, your tits aren't that big," Hugh smiled playfully flicking one with his fingertip. That was true, but they are a respectable 34 b or so, a little handful as Bruce often terms them. I smiled. We were in Hugh's car. It was early evening after work and he had given me a lift, as he sometimes did when he was in the office at the end of the day. Being the Client Service Director of the Marketing Agency for which I worked part time, that wasn't very often, probably once a week on average, but when he was, he gave me a lift and we snogged in his car. He hadn't been in the office when I left work for about ten days or so for he had been in New York for budget meetings, which generally meant bad news. That meant that not only had we not had our evening snogs in the car, but also that we hadn't had sex for some time, too long for sure. In fact we hadn't 'slept' together for getting on for a month for I had been on holiday just before his business trip. We had found a very secluded spot, which was on our way home, we didn't live far apart. We had stopped there several times and no one had ever come along and we hadn't been disturbed so we had become more adventurous and recently had started getting into the back seat of his Merc. "God I've missed you Mons," he whispered just before we kissed. He was a good kisser, probably better than Bruce I thought, immediately admonishing myself for making the sort comparison a mistress should never make between her lover and her husband. He pushed me back into the corner of the big, leather seat. His mouth was on mine, his hand went to my breast and I felt his erection pressing against the outside of my upper leg. We kissed deeply, it was exciting and enjoyable. His hand went into my shoulder length, champagne blond hair and he ruffled that as I stroked the side of his smooth face. He always felt and smelt so nice, things I like in a man. As I had no client meetings scheduled for that day I was not wearing a suit, my normal business garb. I wasn't 'dressed down' for the agency had been there, tried that and had reverted. We did, though, have a 'relaxed' dress code which precluded tee shirts, jeans, shorts and that sort of thing. It was largely left to the discretion of the staff for the management stressed 'Dress so that if necessary you could meet a client.' Though well intentioned that announcement produced a torrent of emails recommending what many of us female staff should wear for particular clients, with black lingerie, basques and stockings and, of course, nothing featuring highly for all. A tight or wet tee shirt was suggested a couple of times for me. PC hadn't arrived at our agency. I was wearing a pink, vee necked, cashmere sweater with a black, knee length, pleated skirt. Smart yet relaxed was how I thought I looked and was how I felt. The skirt, though not flared, was fairly loose and as Hugh pushed me back in the seat so it, of course, rode up my thighs. Despite it being mid-October, the weather was still quite warm and as Bruce and I had just returned from ten days in Florida, my legs were nicely tanned so I wasn't wearing tights. As our kiss progressed so his hand had slid inside my sweater. It felt good as he caressed my boob through my bra then, after easing it out from its restraining cup, the bare skin and my nipples. That's when Hugh had said "Take it off." It's also when I, without a great deal of conviction, had demurred. It was also when after demurring to salve my respectability, I reached round behind me, unclipped the bra, removed it and pushed it into my bag. The soft cashmere felt nice on my tits. We kissed more as he fondled my boobs and I undid his shirt so I could feel his fairly hairy chest with my fingers. He rolled my sweater up and pushed his chest against me; that felt good. He kissed my tits and sucked my nipples, which are fairly prominent and very sensitive. His hand went up my skirt and mine went to his erection. We were very worked up and were getting carried away. His hand was between my legs rubbing my clit and lips, mine had fumbled inside the waist band of his trousers and had found his erection. He had undone his belt and I had pulled his zip down. "I have to fuck you Monica," he groaned thrusting his cock into the surrogate pussy I was making with my hand. "We can't here," I moaned back wishing that we could. We had made each other cum with our fingers and once with our mouths in his car, but we had never had full sex in it. Summer affairs with the long light evenings aren't that conducive to outside sex and we had mainly used hotels for our pleasures. "It's ok, it's safe," he retorted pulling on the waist band of my panties. "It's not, anyone could come along." "We would see their lights miles away," he pointed out. I then realised that it was the first time we had been in the car here in the dark, for the clocks had just gone back the previous weekend. We had only started the affair in May so we hadn't had the opportunity for 'snogging in the dark.' As he continued pulling on my panties, I slowly raised my bum from the seat. They slid easily down my legs and off. They joined my bra in my bag. Although awkward, although complicated and although requiring a level of dexterity I probably no longer had, we had an exciting and very satisfying fuck in his car. ++ I had recently gone back to work. We didn't need the money. Bruce was very successful and owned or had interests in a number of businesses. We had a nice house in a posh suburb of London, a holiday home in Florida, miles and miles away from Disney, and a half share in a villa in Tuscany. We both drove nice cars, I had all the clothes and other female goodies and playthings I wanted and I had help in the house. It was the second marriage for both of us and we each had a child from the previous ones, but none of our own. We loved each other and we were faithful. Well I think we were, even though I had suspicions that on his very frequent business trips he strayed. As a wealthy businessman staying at corporate type hotels, entertaining clients or being entertained by suppliers there was ample opportunity and I knew full well that one of his companies at least provided hookers for would be clients. Nevertheless we got on well together. His job was terrifically demanding; murderous hours, an incredible overseas, mainly the US, travelling schedule, lots of entertaining and functions and 'closings' on deals that often went on well into the wee hours. I was awfully impressed with the way that he handled his work. I had recently started golf lessons. I had recently started going to the gym. I had recently rejoined my tennis club. Yes I was bored. I was lonely. Selfish as it may seem, I wanted more from life than being a 'lady who lunches!' And on top of all that, I was approaching forty. + "I'll give you a lift," Hugh had said one evening as the Marketing Research group meeting finished up around seven thirty. He dropped me and another girl at a tube station. A week or so later, when he found out where I lived, he gave me a lift all the way home. I went to dinner with him, another colleague from work and a man and a woman from a big client. He gave me a lift home. We talked a lot in the office, too much probably, he was so easy to talk to. My work brought me into frequent contact with him, but probably we both exploited that. We got on very well, I found him interesting, easy to talk to and very attractive. "Look it's fairly early, how about a drink?" He suggested one evening in early May when he was giving me a lift home. Of course I should have said no. Of course he shouldn't even have asked the question. We were both married and in good relationships with children and all the other 'fixtures and fittings' that go with marriages, albeit second ones. We only had one drink and then he took me home. He pulled up the discrete distance from my house where I had asked him to drop me the first time he had given me a lift. "It's easier for you to go down the next road," I had explained wondering if sub-consciously there were other reasons why I got him to drop me two hundred yards or so from my house? Bruce came home early, well for him that is, around eight. I felt awful as we had a glass of wine and chatted as I prepared dinner. I felt slightly less guilty as the evening wore and we finished our customary bottle of wine, but I still felt as though I had to make something up to him when we went to bed. He seemed to enjoy me straddling him and fucking his brains out. "Ok for a drink tonight?" He asked the next time, about a week later, he gave me a lift. I genuinely meant to say no, but, and it's hard to believe, I forgot and went along with his casual suggestion. After all, it was only a drink and he was married, a work colleague and, ultimately my boss. There was an atmosphere between us in the pub. We were both reserved, inhibited and, it seemed, reticent to open up. We discussed trivia, the conversation didn't flow as it usually did. We didn't stay long and hardly talked on the drive home. He stopped at the normal place, we looked at each other, both of us seeming to want to say something, but were loath to do so and were hoping that the other would. "See you tomorrow then," I said looking at him. "Yes Monica see you tomorrow," Hugh replied reaching out and touching the back of my hand. As he reached over the centre console I had momentarily thought that he was going to touch my breast. I am sure that I probably arched my back a little. There was a rarity for my husband that night. I gave him a blowjob, something that was usually reserved for holidays. Hugh and I had another client dinner and again he took me home. It was dark when he pulled up in the usual place. He turned to look at me. Our eyes caught, I averted mine for a moment and then looked back, he was still staring at me. "Monni," he started then realising I had said that I was not keen on the shortened version of my name that some of the team used. "Monica," he went on." "Yes Hugh," I replied quietly. "That's ok, either will do, I don't mind what you call me." He didn't respond for a moment or two, but then leaning across he took my hand. I didn't stop him. "How would darling or baby sound?" He said very hesitantly, obviously realising how cheesy it was. I smiled "As long as it's not babe or doll." We looked at each other again and smiled. He lifted my hand and kissed it. "You can't know how relieved I am at hearing that." He leaned further across. His arm slid along the back of my seat and his hand fell onto my shoulder. He pulled on it. I went with the pressure and our faces moved very close. "So what would Monica say if she was kissed?" He asked me. I closed my eyes and said nothing. He kissed me. Soft, gentle, patient, caring and tender were the descriptions that came into my mind as our hands found the other's neck and hair. We broke it and I rested my face on his shoulder. "I think she would say that she had better go now," I said moving away. "Was I wrong to do that?" He asked. "No Hugh, you weren't." "Well...?" "Well what?" I replied pulling the sun visor down and looking in the vanity mirror checking my make-up. "Well what now I suppose?" Hugh said, sounding nowhere near his usual confident self. I was working very hard to remain calm and collected and not to show either the excitement or, the conflict I was feeling. Freshening my lip gloss I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. "I'm not sure Hugh that there is a what now," I said realising that I probably was not making sense. "Isn't there Monica? Isn't there baby?" He said smiling. "I really don't know." "Would you like there to be?" He asked continuing the heavily guarded and somewhat convoluted discussion that really was saying 'Shall we have an affair.' That was a topic that must have been in both our minds for some time, but neither of us had so far, and didn't seem now, to be able to confront head on and say those words. "Would I like there to be what?" "I think you know as well as I do Monica." "Yes Hugh I think I probably do." "Well Monica?" I looked at him and smiling responded. "Well Hugh?" We both laughed. "Look let's stop beating around the bush shall we?" Hugh said very seriously. I tried to lighten the mood, I was worried where it was going, I didn't want to have to confront the big issue between us. "Oh I don't know, I quite like beating around bushes." "Well we seem to have been beating for quite some time haven't we?" He responded not really reacting to my attempt at lightening the mood. "Yes I suppose we have." His arm was still along the back of my seat. His hand dropped on my shoulder. He went to pull me to him. "Actually Hugh, I think we may have done enough beating for this evening don't you?" He sounded very calm when he replied. "Well actually Monica I don't think we have done anywhere near enough beating tonight." I laughed. "Look Hugh I am so confused about this." "So am I Monica. I don't do affairs." "Nor do I, ... surprisingly." "Sorry. I know you don't." "Thank you." "So what then?" "Well you're the boss, the Director of Client Service aren't you? I'm just a humble market researcher." "Hardly humble." "Ok, modest then." "I'll go with that." "Look Hugh," I said taking hold of his hand and removing it from my shoulders, but still holding onto it." "Yes Monica." "Oh shit I don't know." "Nor do I?" "What I do know, though, is now is not the time." "For what may I ask, I hope you're not trying to lead me astray." I laughed. "I'm sure you don't need any leading," I said, realising we were still holding hands. It actually felt nice. "It's not the time for decisions or actions," I said sounding, I thought, rather more assured than I felt. "Ok, but Monica, I think decisions do have to be made don't you?" "Yes Hugh. Yes I think they do." Bruce was away on business so I slept alone. Well not quite. In my mind, I ruefully realised, Hugh was in that bed with me. Hugh was holding me and kissing me and as I grunted when my vibrator slid up me it was his, not my husband's cock, that fucked me. It wasn't late, just after ten, five pm in New York. I wasn't surprised then when the phone rang and it was Bruce. I wasn't surprised, but I was embarrassed and I did feel guilty. After all it's not an every day occurrence for a wife to be chatting to her husband with a vibrator stuck up her cunt. ++ I travelled to work on the train from Loughton to Holborn and then walked from the station to the office. It wasn't far and was an easy and pleasant walk down Kingsway and then into Covent Garden. The journey gave me time to think and I needed to do that, badly. I was hugely attracted to Hugh, of that there was no doubt. However, the level of that attraction scared me, the nature of it surprised me and the combination of the two confused me. I had rarely, if ever, since committing myself to Bruce seriously fancied anyone. Ok I thought Brad Pitt was pretty tasty and, at times, I could easily have become a panty thrower at Eric Clapton, but in real life I didn't have any strong feelings in that direction. Suddenly, I had those feelings for a man I worked with; I seriously fancied Hugh and continuously through most days I imagined being with him and at most bedtimes I visualised making love to him. That scared me, but then I guess most of us are scared of the unknown and wary of new sensations. What was equally, if not more scary was that he clearly fancied me too. I didn't know his circumstances well, but was aware that he was married with two children, both a little older than my daughter for they were at uni. Other people in the office who had met his wife at company dos, spoke well about her making me say 'Sod it' to myself, for I realised I was thinking how much easier it would be to have an affair with a right bitches husband than a nice woman's! If the intensity of my feelings scared me, then the nature of them surprised me. I was as sure I loved Bruce as I could be about anything. I had never had a moment's doubt. But now I was experiencing similar feelings towards Hugh. Had they have been singularly sexual that, I felt, would have been relatively easy to handle: either resist them or have a few fucks and get over them. That wasn't the case though, for I wanted to be with him, to talk to him, to learn things about him. Unfortunately in some ways, my feelings of attraction towards him were not accompanied by negative feelings against Bruce; I still loved him. The combination brought enormous confusion to my line of thinking. Was it possible, I kept wondering to love two men? ++ "I hope I wasn't out of order last night," the email from Hugh asked. "No, not at all," I replied, looking up and down the long room to Hugh's glass walled office where I could see him hunched over his PC. "I hope you enjoyed it?" "Sort of yes." "What do you mean, sort of?" "I enjoyed it at the time, but felt guilty after." "I know what you mean, so did I?" "Yeah, I bet yr used 2 it." "Y u say that?" "Big wheel in marketing, involved in arranging promotions, travel a lot, loads of entertaining." Unusual Threesome "We aren't all lechers." "lol" "Hold on phone." I sat back in my chair pretending to read from my screen, but my eyes were riveted on Hugh walking around his office talking on the phone. He was wearing a pink shirt that probably was from Pink, I guessed and a blue striped tie. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket, but had on lightweight blue trousers, which were fashionably fairly tight. He was tall, around six feet and looked to have a fine physique, there didn't seem to be much spare flesh on him. He had quite long hair and overall looked trendy without going over the top and appearing to be trying to look too young. He carried, what I had learned to be, his age of forty five very well. And on top of all that he had a great bum. Putting all of that together with his intelligence, fairly vibrant and charismatic personality, empathetic and quite sensitive yet assertive manner made for a pretty good package, I thought. "Not all," I typed as I watched him sit down, adding "Just most." "But then I'm not most am I?" Quickly came back. "No," was all I could reasonably think of writing. He was still on the phone so I didn't send anything else, after all it was becoming a little like the scene from Bridget Jones. I saw him hang up. "Monica, I have to go down to Bristol this evening straight from work," I read, suddenly thinking he was going to ask me to go with him. I panicked at the thought not sure whether that would thrill or scare me. Probably both. I continued reading the email. "I think you said your husband was away so I wondered if we could have dinner?" My heart leaped. "I don't know, I'm not sure that's a good idea," I found myself typing. "But Monica we do need to talk, I am not used to this sort of thing and I am so confused," came back his almost immediate and very simpatico response. I had neither, any arguments or, any will left to resist. "Yes, I suppose we do." I was on edge all day as I waited for our 'assignation' as I was starting to view it in my mind. Hugh went out and was in meetings in different parts of the building most of the day, though he did put in a number of brief appearances in his office. He totally ignored me, which with the way I was feeling was a good thing. The sense of our dinner being an assignation increased when, around four, I got a mail from him. "When I leave this evening you wait and I will text or mail you when the car park is clear, ok?" ++ I had called my daughter and told her that I would be working late and would grab a bite in the office; I didn't feel that it would be very wise to say I was going out to dinner either on business or with friends, I rarely did that. I told her what to do about making her dinner, she is very capable like that, but suggested that if she wanted to order a take away that would be fine. Was I salving my conscience, I wondered? I had felt hugely nervous during the rest of the day. I had to keep checking my watch and as it got past five, I could hardly take my eyes off Hugh's office. Work was as good as impossible. Fortunately my job is pretty self-contained so I work alone and have little to do with most of my colleagues from a business point of view. I wasn't therefore slacking nor doing anything that someone else might notice. I had worried a bit over the last couple of weeks when I had seen some co-workers watching me get into Hugh's car, but I hadn't had any catty remarks made about it, well not yet at least. When I saw him walking out of his office at about five forty, most of the staff work until well after six even though the official end time is five thirty, my heart started to pound and my nervousness increased enormously. I felt as if I was about to do something incredibly dangerous such as rob a bank, as opposed to get in a lift, go down to the car park and get into a colleague's car. "Oh God Hugh," I said as he drove up the ramp onto the main road. "What?" "I felt so nervous, doing that?" "You've done it before." "I know, but that was different." We were in stationary traffic so he could turn and look at me. As our eyes met my pulses raced. 'Shit what's happening?' I thought as he reached across and squeezed my hand. "Just relax, it's not as if we are doing or have done anything is it?" I smiled at him and continued holding his hand, which was resting on my leg nearer my stomach than my knee. I was wearing a crisp white shirt and a business suit. It was black, lightweight wool with a three button jacket and a pencil, knee length skirt. I was wearing dark, almost black tights and black patent leather mid-height heeled shoes. His hand was right on the hem of my skirt with the edge of it touching my leg. "No but you know what offices are like Hugh." "Yes and that's why I said about me phoning you. I guess in future we will have to do that sort of thing." I looked at him and said, smiling. "In future Hugh? Is there one?" He smiled back and squeezed my hand as he said. "Well my dear, that's why we are having to find out isn't it?£ ++ I was in his arms. Our mouths were clamped together. Our lips were squirming against each other and our tongues were plunging and probing. He was thrusting his body against mine and I was writhing against his. He had pushed me back against the wall in the reception area of the office and his hand had found my breasts, I had pushed them back against his hand. "Oh God Monica, I have wanted this for so long." "Yes Hugh, yes," was all I could groan as he fiddled his hand inside my blouse. We kissed harder and more passionately; he was such a fervent and enthusiastic kisser. His lips and mouth roamed all over mine. He sucked my lips, licked inside them on my gums and teeth and kissed all over my chin and then down my neck. That made me tip my head back and arch my back a little pushing my breasts and the rest of my body more firmly against him. He was massively erect and that was pressing right against my pubic mound and up the centre of my stomach. He grabbed my bum and pulled me even more firmly against his cock. It felt wonderful. It was romantic, erotic, intimate and so fucking horny I could have so easily been made to cum. His hand with no further ceremony went up my skirt and right onto my bum, he squeezed that just as I fiddled my hand down between us and felt his erection through the thin wool of his suit trousers. We had returned to the office after dinner, it was only a few minutes from the restaurant. On just what pretext we had gone there I couldn't remember for at dinner we had, effectively, agreed to have an affair and that had so excited me the rest of the meal became a blur. It kept going through my mind that it was now, not if he would fuck me, but when he would. I felt his hand going inside my tights. His other had slid into my bra and had scooped my right breast out of its cup. He had kissed that and sucked my nipple. His hand was on my bare bum inside the nylon of the tights, he was edging those down. The situation was so sordid, so wantonly wicked I was thinking as I revelled in the feel of the outline of his cock. My blouse was undone to the waist, both of my breasts were out of my bra, his hand was on the bare cheek of my bum, my tights were being slid down and I was holding his cock. At dinner when we had agreed to have an affair I had stopped thinking about the 'if we would make love.' In the situation we were now in, I realised that we were almost at the now of when we would make love. As he edged his fingers inside my tights round from my bum, past my hip, onto my tummy then down onto my pubes, something snapped. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. It wasn't how I imagined it. Where were the candles, where was the big double bed, the crisp white sheets, the champagne? It wasn't in the plan for us to have sex like this, for him to have me in the reception of the office where we both worked. This was sheer lust. This would only be a fuck not us making love. "No Hugh, no," I said pulling away. "What?" "I can't do this." "Why Monica, why not?" He asked as I pulled away putting my breasts back into my bra. "Not here, not now Hugh. It's just wrong." "You mean in the office, like this." "Yes." "I understand, I'm sorry." "Oh Hugh," I replied softly, "There's no need to be sorry, we were both to blame. I just don't want it to be like this." "I know, I realise that," he said moving a respectable distance away as I did up my blouse, pulled my tights back into place and smoothed my skirt down. ++ 'Sorry about earlier' I read on my phone as I waited for the train at Holborn station where he had dropped me. 'NP, it was good, but not the time or place." 'Agreed,' came back making me realise the silly bugger was texting me from his car on the M4. 'Be carefl in the car.' 'Wil do but had 2 cont u.' 'Thnx.' 'u ok' 'Yes fine @ Holborn waiting.' 'B carful this time of nite' 'yes I will, am a big girl tho.' 'mmmmm yes u r' 'now now.' 'sory' 'np lol' 'wen Monica?' 'u choose' 'Lunch thursdy' 'yes where' 'how about the Ritz?' 'grate' 'talk soon sleep well' 'yes I will u too' 'unlikely for me' 'wy' 'lot on my mind' 'wot' 'u and us' 'no wot u mean bye' ++ Hugh, in the guise of my vibrator, fucked me very nicely just over an hour later. The next morning, though, preparing breakfast I regretted that simulated fuck. I regretted the dinner with Hugh and, most of all I regretted almost having sex with him in the office. I realised I was regretting everything to do with him. I was feeling enormous pangs of guilt when I was with my daughter and step son and, of course, even more so when I was with Bruce. I felt ashamed of myself. Why was I doing it? I had good sex with my husband so it wasn't that. I had a varied and enjoyable social life and I had numerous guys try to pull me at the gym and the tennis club, including a very tempting twenty two year old, so it wasn't either, a need for more in my life or to boost my ego by being wanted. I hadn't even started the affair and I was lying and making excuses both to my daughter and husband as well as friends, who I cancelled tennis games or going out with. And now to office colleagues as well about the lifts with Hugh. Yes I had guilt, I had shame, I had remorse, I knew it was wrong, I knew I shouldn't do it, but equally I think I knew that I would. Fuck it, if only I could find out why and what was driving me to contemplate an affair when I had all the things going for me in my marriage. ++ I didn't work on Thursdays and assumed that was one of the reasons Hugh had suggested that day. It meant waiting three whole days though. Three whole days before I would even see Hugh as he was in Bristol until Wednesday, three whole days without seeing him, touching him smelling him and, I thought very guiltily, three whole days without fucking him. "I'm not too sure The Ritz is a good is a good idea," I told him when he called me at the office the next day." "Why not, the dining room is great, the food's ok and the bedrooms Monica are fantastic." "Yes I know." "Have you stayed there then?" "Yes." "With Bruce, I hope." "Yes of course," I replied a bit shirtily adding "I'm not in the habit of staying in hotels with anyone else." "So I'm the exception am I?" "Yes very much so." "Sorry I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't have asked." "No that's fine." "So why not The Ritz?" "It might be a little too public." "How?" "Well Bruce has many US clients and they might stay there and I know he's had dinner there and maybe lunch. It's too risky." "Actually you're right Monica, I could see people I know there and although you could easily be a client it could be awkward." At the dinner when we had made the tacit agreement to have an affair we had agreed to meet and have lunch with no commitment. We both acknowledged that it was a complete diversion for us and that we should be at liberty to change our mind. But just in case, we had agreed, we would book a room. Hence, his nice suggestion of The Ritz. I was actually quite pleased that he suggested such a prestigious place for it indicated to me that he was not used to such, I smiled, 'assignations.' We discussed it at some length agreeing that a hotel was the most appropriate place to meet and have lunch, but that it should not be one of the landmark places in London. In the end, we agreed to meet at a rather innocuous hotel, just off the M25 near Romford. ++ Our bodies moulded together so easily and naturally. We kissed, long and languidly, there was no need to hurry, we had the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening if necessary. We had both arrived by cab knowing that an essential aspect of our assignation would be alcohol. Not masses of it, but wine with lunch in the dining room and champagne with sex in the bedroom. I was incredibly nervous. I had been when getting ready at home, in the cab on the way and throughout lunch. Although the meal was fine I picked at it and couldn't even remember what I had; the food was unimportant it was the company that was the focal point and what was going to happen after lunch that was the main agenda item. Although I hadn't let my standards go completely with regard to the type of underwear that I normally wore, even after years of marriage, I had recently found myself visiting lingerie websites; Lejaby, Figleaf, Bravissimo, Agent Provocateur, Janet Regar and the like. I had bought a small selection and feeling nervous and guilty in about equal parts I had slipped into all black, a bit obvious I know, but then I was wearing a black dress. There was a low cut bra, which almost showed my areola and through it did show the indentations of my rather obvious nipples, which always look as though I am aroused. I may well be, but the truth is I simply have protruding nipples. A black thong and as an added bonus to the scenario of the 'assignation' long, lacy topped black hold-ups. It really was underwear to be undressed in, I thought as I modelled it for the full length mirror in my bedroom. That did give me yet a further surge of guilt; it felt so awful dressing up in this obvious 'mistress' underwear in the bedroom I shared with my husband to go to share a hotel room with my lover. My lover, my fucking lover, I thought, amazed, excited, surprised and ashamed that I would soon have such an acquaintance. On top I wore a fairly simple, just above the knee, sleeveless, black sheath dress with a zip up the back and a white linen blazer over it. At the dinner on the Monday evening and in the subsequent quite busy and fairly open and intimate exchange of texts and emails, we had completed most of the talking that was necessary. We had told each other that we didn't 'do affairs,' that we were hugely attracted to each other and that there seemed to be something driving us towards this point. We had talked at length about how we were both happy at home, loved our partners and children and were, on the one hand, not looking to leave the marital home, but on the other we were not looking for 'bits on the side.' It seemed to both of us that there was more than a sexual attraction, but neither of us could put our finger on what it was. I think on purpose and very diplomatically we skirted round the issue of love. "At last Monica, at last," Hugh whispered into my ear as he kissed me in the elevator taking us up to the top floor. "Yes," I sighed feeling warm and comforted with my body pressed against his, but also worried and scared at what I was doing. "You shouldn't have done this," I said when we walked into the penthouse suite. "After my last three cock ups I wanted everything to be perfect." "Three?" "Yes in the car and office and then stupidly suggesting the Ritz." "Oh yes," I smiled "Still that should tell me you don't have too much practice at such things, shouldn't it?" "Monica," he said putting his arms round me and pulling me against him, "I really have no practice at all, I swear." "Then Hugh we are two virgins at it aren't we?" "Yes, but not at this," he rather cheesilly, but nevertheless very comfortingly replied as he kissed me and cupped my breast. I kissed him back. He kissed me harder. I responded. His tongue probed at my lips. I opened them. The rather languid nature of the kiss changed. It became more urgent and demanding, deeper and more passionate. It was now more as if we had little time rather than the hours we really had. He pulled me harder against him squashing my breasts and I squirmed with pleasure. He thrust his erection against me and I pushed back. He was making all the requests a man makes to a woman when he wants sex; sqeezing her breasts, thrusting his hardness against her mound and tongue fucking her mouth. And I was responding with all the acceptances of those requests that a woman makes when she also wants sex. All thoughts of my family, my responsibilities, my husband, my love for him and them went completely out of the window. I was no longer a wife. I was no longer a mother. I was no longer anything other than a woman wanting to have sex with her lover. My white, linen blazer came off first. He slid the lapels back, I put my arms behind me pushing my tits harder against his chest and he slid it off me and dropped it onto a chair. He fumbled at the back of my dress and then finding the tab of the zip pulled it down. It was a nice feeling as the back of my dress parted. It was even nicer when I slid my arms out and it slithered down my body to the floor. It wasn't quite so nice a feeling though when I worried about it getting crumpled lying on the floor; that was more a wifely than a mistress feeling, I thought as I almost went to pick it up. Hugh saying "Oh sod me Monica you look amazing," stopped me and we kissed again. We were still in the sitting room of the suite. He pulled me over to a settee and he sat on it pulling me onto his lap. "God your breasts are fantastic," he groaned squeezing one. It felt wonderful "You like this then?" I said referring to the underwear. "You sexy, wonderful woman. If I knew that you wore this sort of stuff I'm sure I would have shagged you in the office in front of everyone." I laughed. "Good job I don't then, I bought it specially for today." "Mmmmm," he sighed running his fingertips across the swell of my breasts above the black lace of the tight, see through black bra. As usual my nipples were making large indentations in the fine material and I sighed and jumped a little as his fingers found that and pinched it as we kissed. When he cupped my breast, my body jerked and when he slid his fingers inside the cup and wiggled them against my nipple I groaned. The sensations were coming thick and fast. My body felt so alive and vital, I was tingling everywhere, I was so hot and my breasts seemed so full and heavy. Hugh's hand slid down my back, round my hip and right onto the crease in my groin where my leg started. The feelings and sensations were so strong I had to break the kiss for I was finding it hard to breath. He kissed my neck instead and I put my head back. His hand slid inwards onto my thong, he stroked that making gurgling noises of appreciation in his throat. I bent my head forward, I wanted to kiss him again and be kissed by him. I was so aroused, so turned on. We kissed, deep and with very active, plunging tongues. His fingers slid down the outside of my thong and miraculously with no fumbling lighted right on my clit. That was simply too much for me. My mind and body exploded simultaneously and I climaxed. It was hard, shuddering and for me quite noisy with long groans, harsh grunts and deep moans. Unusual Threesome I clung to him cradling his face with my head thrown back, my eyes closed and mouth open. I pushed my breasts against his face riding the waves of sensation with jerks and shudders of my body. He had made me cum with only the very lightest touches on my clit and tits. "Oh shit," I grunted feeling so embarrassed. This wasn't in the plan. The script hadn't been written that way. Mistresses don't cum so easily. "Oh baby, don't say that." "I'm sorry Hugh." "Monica don't please." "But I feel stupid." "Why?" "Doing that." "It's fine, I'm pleased, in fact I'm flattered," he went on planting little kisses on the tops of my boobs, my chest and neck before kissing me fully on my mouth. His hands ran up and down my back, softly pinging my bra strap and running around inside the narrow waist band of my panties. "I feel like a kid," I groaned, although his reaction had reassured me somewhat. He slid his hand inside the cup of my bra and eased one of my breasts out. Lifting it and looking at me out of the top of his eyes as he licked across my nipple he whispered. "Some kid? Kids don't have these." I again cradled his head as he sucked, chewed and licked my nipple. "Come to bed Monica. I want to make complete love to you." Complete love. Oh my God yes I thought as I got up, held his hand and let him lead me to the bedroom; that's precisely what I need, complete love, what a great phrase. The bed was already turned down. He kissed me and laid me on it. He stood at the side of the bed, undid his shirt and removed it. His chest was toned and fairly hairy, just as I like a man's chest, not like, I found myself thinking, Bruce's chest. He wasn't at all embarrassed as he took his trousers and socks off, but then why should he be? I wasn't embarrassed being in my underwear so why should he be, why would I think he might be? He slid his boxers off and, for the first time I not only saw my lover naked, but also wonderfully erect. He looked gorgeous. He had, I found myself thinking, a better, more muscular and more toned body than my husband. He also had a bigger cock I noticed as he lay beside me on the bed. We kissed. Again it was deep and passionate. His naked cock pressed against me, I held it and stroked it and my bra came off. He licked and sucked my tits and I rubbed his chest, belly and cock. He was pulling on the waistband of my thong. I lifted my bottom up and he slid it down my legs. Apart from my stockings I was naked. Our bare bodies pressed together, it felt good. I loved his hairy chest on my boobs and nipples. He turned me onto my back and I realised that we were about to have full sex; to make complete love as he had called it. It seemed just right to do it with me on my back and him on top. Nothing flash, nothing too adventurous, they could come later I found myself thinking as he lay on top of me. "Monica I have thought about this so much," he groaned snuggling his cock down between my legs. "So have I, Hugh all the time." "I so want you my darling," he whispered, pressing the tip of his cock right against my lips. "Yes, my dear, yes," I sighed "Have me Hugh, take me," ++ I felt terrible when I got home around ten that evening. I had made my excuses both to my daughter and Bruce so the time was not an issue nor was the fairly obvious fact that I had been drinking. I had covered both of those in my lies. 'What have I come to?' I thought as I carried on normally with my husband and family after spending an afternoon and early evening with my lover. An afternoon with my lover. An afternoon in bed with him. An afternoon being fucked by another man, yet here I was making tea for my family. Surely they could tell? Surely they would know? Surely it showed? Surely I reeked of being an adulteress? But everything seemed to be fine. Nobody said anything untoward, nothing seemed to be out of the norm. Phew, I could relax. When I came in there was the usual, hi mum's from the kids and hello darling from Bruce. They didn't question me or ask awkward questions. Everything was as it usually was; watching TV, surfing, X box and Bruce reading. Yet there was me an adulteress who had spent the afternoon being fucked in a hotel just up the road. The evening passed uneventfully. Mark Austin didn't fuck Julie Etchingham during News at Ten and Jonathan Ross didn't fuck Gwyneth Paltrow on his chat show, though he did try. We had a drink and went to bed. I was dreading Bruce wanting sex. Of course if he had, I would have obliged for I would never refuse my husband. But after certainly five and possibly more orgasms that afternoon and after Hugh and me having 'complete sex' twice between about three and nine, further sex would have been difficult. But then Bruce teed off at eight thirty on Saturdays and had to be up early! ++ "Was it awful, darling?" Hugh asked, his fingers idly tweaking my nipple. "No not awful, but very odd, very strange," I replied stroking his flat stomach as we discussed going home after the real start of our affair at the hotel. We were in bed two weeks later; it was the first chance we'd had to get together properly since then. Well we had got together in his car, but that was just deep kisses and caresses, and we had repeated the office scene. Again though, that was just 'heavy petting.' We were at a hotel in St Johns Wood right near, actually overlooking, the Lords Cricket ground; not that I particularly liked cricket. We'd had lunch and then made love. It was as simple as that. Met in the lobby, went to the restaurant, ate and drunk went upstairs and fucked. Magic. And it had been a good fuck. Better than either of the two Romford shags. I was more relaxed, he was more confident and we were, I suppose, getting used to each other. Yes we were developing our relationship, we were becoming better acquainted, we really were having an affair. I had told Bruce and the kids that I was attending a conference, 'somewhere in north west London.' I had purposefully been as vague with the location as I was with the title 'Oh something to do with using the Internet for marketing research.' That way they couldn't check! "Not quite sure what time I'll be home for there are some old colleagues from my Burston days there so we may have dinner," I had told them, agreeing arrangements for the kids' meals. "Don't worry about me, I've got a client dinner," Bruce advised, "I won't be home until probably eleven." "It must be difficult for you making excuses," Hugh went on kissing my hair. We were lying on the bed naked. It was surprising, well to me at least it was, how quickly both of us had got used to being naked with the other. I am a little self-conscious about that. I don't really like being seen naked in changing rooms, I don't walk around the home undressed and I'm not even that comfortable being topless on a beach or by a pool. And, of course, I hadn't been naked with any man other than Bruce for such a long time! It's not because I am worried about my body. I am very lucky with that for I am fairly slim naturally, I don't have a swollen tum, there are no signs of cellulite, yet, and my tits haven't started to droop, not that there is that much to droop. It's more emotional I suppose, perhaps due to a strict upbringing, but it's also been made worse by my bloody nipples. I do have, though I say it myself, good boobs. They are full and round, not like some that, although sticking out some way, have a small diameter. Mine do both. They are, as Bruce describes them, a bloody good handful! My areola aren't that big, about average I would say and they are a nice coral pink. It's my nipples that give me problems. It's not that they are unduly big, but they are very perky; they always look as if I am aroused or very cold and that can be hugely embarrassing. "Yes it is rather, Hugh, but I suppose that goes with the territory doesn't it?" "Territory?" "Yes. It's the price I have to pay for this," I smiled running my fingers through his pubic hairs and touching the top of his soft, just used cock as I turned my head and kissed him. "Cheap at twice the price I reckon," he joked back. Those moment just after having good sex can be lovely. Both feeling mellow and close from the mutual orgasms, the couple can talk and broach the most intimate of topics. They can chat about topics that would be impossible to discuss at any other time. It's when some couples discuss their fantasies, when other admit to 'peccadilloes' in the past and when some talk about their sexual aspirations. It's at such times that Bruce and I have talked about joining a swinging circle, he has said how much he would like to see me have sex with a woman and I have, reluctantly and hesitantly, admitted to being attracted to having sex with a young man; none of which, however, have survived the cold light of day! I muttered "Even cheap at three times the price," just before we kissed, tenderly and caringly and he cupped my breast. "How is it with you with Jane?" I asked. "From an excuses and lying point of view it's not bad, for I'm always all over the place with the job. It's just when I'm with her and the kids." "You feel you're betraying them, sort of letting them down?" "Yes, something like that, it's hard to define. I feel so much for them, but then at the same time I miss you so much," he said stroking my breast. His words and touch made me tingle. "I know exactly what you mean Hugh, I feel the same." We kissed deep and long. He caressed my breasts and I stroked his stomach. I found his cock and gently rubbed that. Was it starting to grow, I wondered? But then I remembered that this was real life, not an erotic novel and in that, forty five year old men don't often recover in twenty minutes and they certainly don't shag four or five times in an afternoon, even a long one! After lunch and coming up to the large, top floor bedroom I had been nervous. This time, however, it was not about having sex for the first time with Hugh, it was about hoping he didn't make me cum too quickly as he had last time. We had, of course, kissed each other immediately we were in the room; we were hungry for that and for each other. This time though, I started to undress myself and Hugh followed suit. Although I had begun doing it for other reasons, it became immensely erotic. I undid my blouse, he unbuttoned his shirt. I looked at his flat, muscular, hairy chest and he stared at my boobs in the see through, white lacy bra. I slid out of my skirt, he gasped and smiled as he saw the light tan, lacy topped hold ups. He removed his trousers and it was my turn to gasp at the tight grey CKs with the lovely, big lump running right up the middle of them pushing the waist band out from his stomach. I turned my back inviting him to unclip my bra. "If sir would oblige?" I said smiling. "Sir most certainly will", he retorted coming up behind me, pressing his erection against my bum and reaching round and squeezing my boobs. That worried me a bit, but it also thrilled me. "I meant the clasp Hugh, nothing else," I laughed squirming away from him and undoing it myself. I turned back to him keeping the bra in place by holding the cups. We stared at each other, it was, or so it seemed, a seminal moment. I felt enormously aroused and so very close to Hugh at that moment. Again, that feeling of everything other than him and me faded away. That was all there was, I felt that he and I were my world as I slowly moved my hands away from my breasts taking my bra with them. I felt sort of humble, yet so wanted and feminine as Hugh let out his breath, shook his head and stared as I flaunted my boobs at him. "Oh Monica they are so lovely." "Thank you kind sir," I whispered back feeling adventurous. I cupped each of my breasts and lifted them. He came towards me and stroked my nipples. "Mmmmm, but there's a price to pay to do that," I smiled. "And what may I ask is the price?" I stepped back, still holding my boobs, lowered my gaze and nodded at his boxers. Obviously getting my message, he smiled and, possibly a little too quickly, pushed them down. It really was my turn to gasp now, for naked he looked awesome. I didn't at all like the thought that popped unasked and unwelcomed into my mind about him having a better body generally and a more attractive cock specifically than my husband. "Hugh you are beautiful," I sighed. "Have I paid the price?" He asked closing the gap between us. "In full sir, totally and completely in full." "Then ma'am there's also a price you have to pay." "What for?" "Let's just call it Hugh's charity," he joked pulling on the waist band of the white, lacy shorts. Smiling I removed my knickers, but not the stockings, which in any case would be thrown away when we finished. We were soon on the bed and equally quickly Hugh was in me. We started with him lying on top of me. My legs were open and our mouths were clamped as he started to fuck me. Slow and deep, long and languid he pumped his way inside me. I raised my knees and wrapped them round him. "Oh Monica that's great," he grunted getting further into me than he had on either of our previous times. "Yes, Hugh, ooooo, harder." He thrust his way in and out of me going faster and faster and then stopped and held himself rigid deep inside me. He rolled us onto our sides and continued to fuck me like that and then turned onto his back so I was on top. I didn't kneel, though, that was for later. Instead I lay on top of him, but I moved not him so, in a way I was fucking him. He sucked my breasts and played with my bum, something we hadn't yet got round to. The way he flitted his fingertips across my anus, suggested that it wouldn't be long, though, before we did. He turned us again so that I was once more on my back, we were right on the edge of the bed and almost falling off, but we didn't stop, I doubt that we could if we had wanted to. We were kissing and licking each other, rubbing, squeezing, caressing and stroking as we fucked and fucked and fucked. There was no problem this time with a premature orgasm just one with having on orgasm that went on and on and on. "Lift your legs." "What, how?" I asked. "Like this," he said reaching down and behind him. He grabbed my legs mid-way between my knees and ankles and started to lift. I of course understood and I helped him put my legs over his shoulders. He raised himself by straightening his arms and doing a sort of sexual hand stand so his back was arched. He used one hand on my breasts and I lifted my head and nibbled both of his nipples. "I want to watch you cum darling," he whispered. I smiled. "Then, my dear, you had better fuck me hadn't you," I groaned using such a basic word for the first time with him. ++ I gradually got used to having an affair, to being someone's lover, to being an adulteress. The excuses, the lies and the subterfuge became second nature, although I hated them and hated myself for having to use them. But then, I rationalised, 'There's no free lunches!' At times, especially when I was in bed with Bruce, he had dozed off and I was lying there thinking about the future I wondered if the price I was paying was worth it. I was cheating on my husband, lying to my child and my step son and, in part at least, taking another innocent woman's husband away from her. I was spending afternoons in hotels and brief periods in the evenings in his car and the office having sex of one type or the other. Yet there was no real shortage of sex with my husband and, to be truthful, I had never had the greatest appetite for it. Although I was getting used to it, some aspects were difficult to cope with. Weekends, for instance, when I wouldn't speak to or even see Hugh let alone kiss him or have his hands on me were terrible. As was watching him in the office and not be able to talk to him as my lover. It was almost as bad when we got out of bed and went home. But slowly I began to cope. I began to be able to compartmentalise my life. To love Hugh, to enjoy being with him and to shut everything about my 'real' life from my mind. At the same time I learned to live comfortably without him and to be happy and content loving Bruce. With him, Sara and Charlie, Bruce's son, I developed the knack of being able to 'forget my other life.' I was living in a parallel existence. I was coping. Hugh and I talked a lot. Before sex it was usually a bit stilted, but our post sex, pillow talk opened up. It was mainly about us. When we were together, 'us' and our future were important, but, we both agreed, when apart and back in our natural habitat, the home, 'us' was different. There was not so much the future to think of, but the present to miss. We agreed that when apart we mainly missed the other's body, yes it was the sex that we yearned for when not together. That was despite being perfectly able to have good sex with our spouses. But when together, we hated parting. Weekends were bad, Bank Holidays terrible and family vacations horrendous. We both perfectly well realised that normal life had to go on. I continued having sex with Bruce as frequently as I always had and, in some ways, maybe because of my guilt I tried harder and may even have been better. Although Hugh and I might have a 'quick grope' in the office when most had left or a 'heavy snog' in his car, actual full sex wasn't that frequent, probably every ten days to two weeks. I knew that Hugh was shagging Jane and although at times I felt pangs of jealousy I recognised that he felt the same as me. We discussed it at length and agreed that yes, it was possible to love two people. ++ As the summer wore on so did my affair. We used hotels quite frequently. Usually we followed the pattern established at Romford the first time, but occasionally he would book in and I would go straight to the room either, before or, after Hugh. For some reason, walking into a hotel, picking up the key from reception and going up to a room which had been booked for just one reason, sex, was a hell of a buzz. I got such a thrill from being a mistress in those circumstances. It was the same when we had lunch and then wandered out, usually hand in hand and took the lift up to our room. I just loved those moments and the feeling that everyone was looking at us thinking he's taking her up stairs to fuck her. Numerous other highs emerged as the year went on. We couldn't always use hotels. It was not only very expensive; with lunch, the room and the booze, around three hundred ponds a pop, making me feel like a high, well highish, priced hooker, but it was also not that convenient. Hotels couldn't cope with a surge of need on either of our parts and they weren't there when our circumstances changed suddenly and we had time for each other. That's when some of the highs happened. The first one was in the office. We had been 'an item' for a couple of months I guess, so we were pretty relaxed with each other. It was early evening and most people had gone. Hugh was out and I had decided to stay late to catch up on some jobs that had fallen behind, largely due to my 'afternoons of sin' as I called them. I like working alone in the office. It makes me feel virtuous to be the only one working when the rest have gone home. It also made me feel virtuous to be telling my family the truth when I say 'I'm working late tonight.' It must have been just after eight when, out of the blue, Hugh walked in. It would be a tremendous understatement to say we were both surprised to see each other. It would also be an understatement to say we were 'pleased to see each other,' we were both ecstatic and hugely excited about it. Without even thinking I was in his arms kissing him even before he'd had time to put his briefcase down. Thinking that wasn't just what was needed, it was each other we needed. Unusual Threesome Fantasy She was just about ready for it, she thought. But nothing could have ever prepared her for the sight of it, going in and then just sticking out of her like that!... it looked so painful, but it wasn’t. Maybe it wasn’t because she wasn’t sensitive to the pain anymore, but the guys didn’t think it should hurt much, either. They’d been preparing her for this for about half an hour. First, they all stripped, of course, and she looked fine, with her full bosom and nicely shaped body. The two men, Jason and Bob, were in pretty good shape too, if a little lacking in sporty-ness. Not too muscular, but attractive and with just a hint of tummy; pretty typical of modern man… Then they said to her that she must give her body up to them, at least for the few hours to come. They’d agreed to this when they set the whole thing up, during quite a few late-night hours spent in the Internet chat room. They had been friends for a long time, but there was still quite a bit of the thrill, of the feeling of risk left—especially for her. Being adventurous, and being a little unstable (her friends sometimes said that to her), she enjoyed it and let herself go with the flow. They’d never been apart until each had to go to college, but managed to stay well in touch via the ‘net. Indeed, they really stayed in touch: perhaps, had they not used the chat service, they never would have got this far with their fantasy! When the guys told her: “Gloria, you have to lie down now,” she knew what it really meant. They were taking over completely. She was not to be tied up, that was one of the agreements they had, but she was to let them do anything to her that they wanted, before ‘the programme,’ as they called it, would begin. Actually, the feeling in the room was quite relaxed, but they all enjoyed, underneath the smiles, the feeling of uncertainty: would they all really go through with this? Would she allow them? Would the men do everything just like they’d planned? There was a little tension, and she could feel it… everywhere. The guys were a little tense, but the sight of her naked and vulnerable, nipples hardening (was it the cold?)—it made them half-hard too. Jason decided he was the one who should start. This part was open to improvisation, they had to go with their intuition until juices started to really flow, and then their planned fantasy could roll out. Yeah it was weird, but they were all for it, they wanted to experience it, which made it all OK. So Jason looked into Gloria’s eyes and whispered “I’m gonna soak you down there,” winked smilingly and moved to start taking her pussy in his mouth. No kissing, he was blowing cold air onto it with his wide open mouth, and gently grinding his teeth into her flesh. She moaned, she wasn’t expecting that sensation, and immediately felt her lips flush, a little wave of sensations rushed over her. Bob decided he’d join Jason in pleasuring Gloria, and since he was excited from seeing her reaction he told her to look up and see his prick stand out. He knew from before she loved the sight of a hard cock, and this time she mumbled an approving “Mmmmmm…” as he was stroking himself for her to see. “Come here, I wanna touch it,” she said reaching out. He gave his dick to her and she put her fingers on it, feeling the hardness—not for long though, because Jason from below was starting to use his tongue to fuck her pussy lips while ‘massaging’ her outer cunt with his teeth. Bob knew it was now really time to act. Her thighs spread, on her back, Jason in between her legs, the only thing Bob could do was to kiss her. Kiss her lips, massage her tits, lower himself to take the nipples in his mouth, bite her gently. He knew Jason was still mashing his teeth into her groin so the sensation must be double if he teeths her titties as well—and boy, was it good for her! She was now moaning, pulling them by their hair, into her, harder, she was feeling the heat rise. Bob rose up despite her little protests and pinched her nipples with his fingers. His dick was standing out as he was kneeling on the bed beside her, she could see it and her eyes sparkled. Pinching again, he pulled the nipples upwards, and again, and again… she could really feel it, harder and harder every time. Grabbing hold of one nipple with both hands so it couldn’t slip from his grasp, he pulled as hard as he could without hurting her too much, lifting all of her big tit—by the nipple. Jason looked up, drawn by Gloria’s deep moan. “Shit, man, you’re gonna rip it right off her!,” he said, only to hear Gloria protest: “No waaayy… feels so good, pull it some more!...” So he pulled and pulled, then turned his attention to the other boob, and Gloria was squirming like a bitch in heat. The nipple Bob had abandoned was swollen and red, but it didn’t hurt, he’d only made her horny. It was burning OK, but no pain—just lust. Her pussy was now being eaten good and proper. Fingers fucking in and out of her, tongue lashing at her clit, she was just too close to cumming for comfort, and her titties were burning. The two men could see that, and realized it must be about time… With Bob still caressing her, touching and feeling her breasts, letting one hand drop down to her flooded pussy from time to time, Jason went into their bag and got out the needles. That was the second phase of their fantasy. First, he gave Bob the cream he was supposed to rub into her flesh: a cream similar to what people use to numb their pain, in that it gives the area where it’s rubbed a burning feeling, but it didn’t do much in terms of numbing any sensations. Quite the contrary, the three would eventually find… Now she was all prepped up: fiery red tits and pussy, glistening, and having been ‘that’ close to orgasm at least four times… she could take anything. So they took the first needle and pushed it gently into her soft flesh. They knew there’d be no blood, though the needle was quite thick. It was sterile of course, just like in their fantasy. Their fantasy was that they’d use this method to ‘get inside’ her, deeper than her skin, to reach into her flesh and she would let them in, she’d cum when the needles were inside her tits and when both men would cum inside her pussy… they’d all cum, they hoped, at the same time… Each breast was supposed to take at least two needles, and she wasn’t feeling any pain on the first one. She asked for the second one, and asked for it to go in faster because she was hot, so as Bob was shoving it in, Jason picked the third one and twisted its tip into her other tittie. Closer to the hard nipple, Jason wanted it to move when he’d twist her nips, to cause sensations deep in her flesh and not just on her skin. She looked down again, opening her eyes from the moan she’d just let out, and saw there were three in now: “Ohhhhh gaawd,” she groaned and pushed her pussy skyward. She was on fire! The guys took turns twiddling the needles and then gave in to the desire building up in their groins: Gloria let Bob underneath her (her titties jiggling with the needles still plunged deep inside them), and his rigid cock immediately found its way into her squishy cunt. Right away, Jason positioned himself, expecting this to be a little difficult: he tried to enter her too, next to Bob. It was easy… so easy! Much easier than expected. He slid almost right in, with almost no effort. She was gaping for their cocks, her whole body squirming. Her nipples out into the cool air, burning red, being pinched by the men. They started working her pussy out with their horny dicks and she was cumming in no time… cumming uncontrollably, wildly, screaming from time to time and moaning constantly. Her pussy was so wet and so opened up that the two men couldn’t get enough friction to cum quickly, they were pushing their dicks against each other, trying to get themselves off inside her! She was shouting “I’m yours, I’m open, I’m yours for the taking, just feel me, how deep you are inside… how I feel you throbbing…” She got enough control to lift her hands in front of her body and grab at her cunt, opening further, letting the soaked balls slap directly against each other, freeing them as much as she could from the restraints of her thighs, and her lips, to get inside as deep as they ever could. Of course, she could feel them, as though in a dream, banging deep in her against her cervix, hurting a little, but that didn’t count one bit! All she wanted was to swallow the men, completely, utterly, to let them merge into her, and here they were— “Aaaaah!,” “Aaaaarggggghhhhmm!” They were cumming at the same time, on the waves of her own orgasms, deep inside her, as deep as they ever could. Jason let himself pulsate a few times inside her, then—as planned—took it out and let all his remaining cum flood her mouth, her chin and neck, and drip onto her tits. She swallowed, deeply hungry, all she could, while slapping at her own pussy fiercely with her left hand, with her right milking Jason hard into her mouth. Bob was feeling the nails of her fingers on the root of his dick as the slaps were landing onto her cunt. He was going softer, and her slaps slowed down too. She only gave herself about ten hard pussy spanks, but her clit was really swollen. Bob’s dick fell out of her and she grabbed at it, milked it for the cum that was left and brought the creamy stuff to her mouth, to be swallowed hungrily. Her pussy lips completely numb, she almost thought she’d faint, but managed to say “I’m yours now…” Jason collapsed next to the other two. He turned to hug them, and felt the needles in Gloria’s breasts. Before he would let himself glow with his friends, he had to remove the needles. They left small red dots on her skin, of which one was bleeding slightly. Bob was looking, and noticed it too. They both bent their heads to lick it up, together. It was her blood now, inside them. Unusual Threesome Greg had initially been elated and hugely aroused when Claire said. "Yes Greg, I will make love to another woman as you watch." As he had also thought about the potential problems when she had explained that the other woman would be Sammi, so his elation fell somewhat. He was still very excited about seeing Claire and Sammi together and, in theory, extremely aroused at the prospect of having sex with Sammi, who he had fancied ever since they had met. As with most men, the idea of a threesome had tremendous initial appeal, but the potential problems and issues troubled him. How much enjoyment could he show when he and Sammi had sex? Might he actually be jealous when he watched his wife make love to her best friend? It was the aftermath that worried him most. It was all very well having a night of threesome sex, but he and Claire would have to confront what went on that night for the rest of their lives. That might be a good confrontation, but if things went wrong, it might have awful repercussions. He could even now here Claire saying. 'You enjoyed fucking Sammi more than me.' The other, less significant and more 'technical' worry, was how do you actually go about a threesome? Should he kiss Claire, then turn to Sammi? Should he shag one completely until he climaxed then make the other wait at least half an hour or should he alternate, a few thrusts in Claire then several in Sammi? How would it work with protection? Claire was on the pill and he always went 'bareback' with her, how would that work with Sammi? God, it was so bloody complicated he had a few times thought of saying to Claire to forget it. The thought, though, of seeing Sammi and Claire having sex and then shagging the young blonde, were so appealing,he didn't. Watching that scene from The Hunger with Claire had been one of the most erotic experiences of Sammi's life. Seeing Susan Sarandon and Catherine Deneuve making such spectacular love seemed to capture everything she felt. To her they were not lesbian, not even bi, to Sammi it was just sheer beautiful sex. A sex the like of which she had never experienced. It had been watching that, which had made her so receptive to Claire's advance to her, both for sex together and for the threesome. But, she was also concerned about what might happen later. Just what would it be like having sex with, not merely a woman, but her best friend Claire? Would it ruin the friendship? What would they be like when they met after? Might they become full on lovers, with or without Greg being involved? How would it work in the future, would they kiss and fondle when they met? She was relatively relaxed about sex with Greg. She liked him and had he not been Claire's partner, she probably would have fancied him, but you don't do that with a best friend's partner do you? She was, though, concerned at how she would feel watching Greg shag Claire, what would she do? Do you just lie there or what? She had no idea. Laughing, nervously, Greg asked. "Wine ladies or, maybe something a little stronger such as a Cognac?" They were standing in the kitchen, they had entered by the back door, of the cottage. "It might give us more courage?" "Why do we need that?" Claire asked. No one replied, it wasn't necessary. "Actually yes Greg I will have a brandy," Claire said, "Sammi?" "Yes ok, why not? "Come on let's go into the lounge," Claire said opening the door to the compact, nicely furnished almost square room. "Wow," Sammi said looking across the room. There were several candles dotted around casting a low and very romantic light. Their sweetish aroma and the line of nightlight- sized candles leading up the open staircase and onto the landing leading to the bedrooms added to the strongly erotic look and feel of the room. "That's a clever boy," Claire said raising her brandy snifter to her partner who had obviously set it up after they had left. Claire walked over to the four-seater, green leather Chesterfield. She sat one end and patted the middle part. "Sammi you sit here." After slipping his jacket off, Greg sat the other side. Sammi's pulse was racing and heart was beating, she felt very nervous. As usual, she tried joking her way out of it. "What meat in the sandwich am I?" She asked them. Claire put her hand on Sammi's arm and smiling said. "No luv, more like in for a roasting," using the modern term for two men having sex with a girl, but adding. "With a slight difference of course." Greg also feeling and sounding hellishly nervous joined in. "Let's just hope the meat's nice and tender." They sat in a line on the sofa, sipping their cognacs, which Greg refreshed, for a few moments, with each of them probably wondering just how the evening and night would pan out. In fact, Both Claire and Greg were also wondering just how the hell do you start a threesome? Claire, though did have a plan. She clicked the remote control and the thirty-six inch plasma on the opposite wall lit up. One of the soaps came on. She fiddled with the remote control and leaned over the arm of the sofa. Sammi saw some messages on the screen indicating it was interfacing with a pc. The screen flickered for a moment or two and then the beautiful face of Susan Sarandon filled the screen. "Oh my God," Sammi said. "Ok Sam?" Claire asked holding her friend's hand. "Oh yes, Claire" she breathed, her eyes taking in every detail on the screen. She watched and listened with mounting excitement and anticipation as Catherine Deneuve played the piano to Susan who was seated, drinking a glass of red wine. Sammi had watched the clip several times since Claire had introduced her to it. So powerfully did it affect her, she had masturbated each time she watched it. "Is that a love song?" She heard Dr Sarah Roberts, Susan, ask Mrs Miriam Blaylock, Catherine. "Does it sound like one?" Catherine replied. "Yes," Susan said quietly "Then it is one." Sammi waited the moment or two for Susan to ask one of the most erotic questions ever posed in a film, well certainly in her experience. As she posed the question, "Are you making a pass at me Mrs Blaylock?" she felt Claire squeeze her hand. Involuntarily, yet with meaning, Sammi squeezed back. Catherine's cool reply was one of the most amazing acts of underplaying one's hand there could be. "Miriam, my name's Miriam." It was then that Susan Sarandon spilled the red wine onto her white top. The way the camera zoomed into her left breast with the stain on its top and showed the rise of her nipple inside the material was fantastic. It implied so much. That she was aroused, of course, that she was interested, probably and that she was naked under the top, certainly. Catherine moved away, the stalker circling her prey. As their gazes met and the good doctor Sarah Roberts, Susan Sarandon, turned away from her temptress and towards the camera, Sammi felt Claire running her other hand up her bare arm as they continued squeezing each other's hands. As Susan took hold of the bottom of her white top, she felt Greg's hand on hers. He squeezed that and she squeezed back. "Oh Christ," Sammi involuntarily groaned as Susan lifted the white top upwards, baring her breasts to the camera, but not to her potential lover, Catherine. It was at this point that Sammi usually started to masturbate. This evening, though, that wasn't possible, but Claire had cleverly created the same needs in her friend. "Jesus," Greg whispered, also squeezing Sammi's hand quite tightly, as the camera focused on Susan Sarandon's shapely breasts and erect nipples. As the scene ended so Claire whispered. "Shall we all go upstairs?" She pressed pause, knowing that the other control in the bedroom would start it up again for it was programmed and ready, waiting for Claire to press the right buttons; 'Just like Sammi,' she smiled. But not yet. As they followed the candlelit path to the master bedroom with the modern, low and wide bed, so Claire used another remote control to start the stereo. It could only be set to play one thing. The Flower Duet from Lakme, by Delibes. The music that British Airways used to use in its ads, when it had pretensions to be 'the world's favourite airline,' the music in the scene where Catherine and Susan make love and the music, Sammi thought, to which I am going to be fucked by both Claire and Greg. It was an awesome sound. The fantastic female voices and incredible music, filled the cottage. It seemed to be coming from everywhere, soaring up high and loud then low and quiet. The two girls stood by the bed looking at each other. Greg diplomatically moved to a chair in the shadows, as the beautiful sounds wafted round the old cottage. The earlier watching of the scene from The Hunger when Susan Sarandon had bared her breasts to Catherine Deneuve and now hearing the awesomely erotic Flower Duet music that accompanied the two women making the most stunning on-screen love, had aroused Sammi. They had loosened her, they had released her inhibitions, relaxed her and had made her amenable to Claire's inevitable, yet subtle advance. She was now fully primed and tingling with expectation. The plasma on the wall facing the bed flicking to life and being filled by the near naked bodies of the two beautiful, mature women, did the rest. As Sammi watched Susan's long legs opening, Catherine's beautiful back bending and her lovely face moving towards Susan's deliciously hardened nipple she heard her friend say. "Are you ok Sam?" Her immediate, thought, with a slight smile was to say, as Susan had said the Catherine, 'Are you making a pass at me?" Instead she said "Yes Claire." "We can stop at any time you know, just say so and we will." "I know luv, thanks." "That's right isn't it, Greg?" Claire asked. "Yes of course," he replied from the shadows. Sammi got the answer to her unasked mimicking of Dr Sarah Roberts when Claire said "If you're sure then Sam, why don't we take our dresses off." Chapter 6 It worked as near perfectly as making love can. Everything seemed to happen as if planned and rehearsed. There were no embarrassments, no hesitation, jealousy or greed. Nobody domineered, no one was left out or ignored. It was very inclusive, very intense, very tender, very caring, very erotic and amazingly horny for each of them. From the moment Sammi followed Claire's lead by undoing the buttons down the front of her dress as Claire unzipped hers at the back, the two girls were together. "You look so beautiful Sam," Claire said as they looked at each other in their underwear: Sammi all black setting off the blondeness of her hair, Claire white accentuating the slight olive tone to her skin and darker hair. "And you do too," Sammi whispered back as Claire took her by the hand and pulled her to the bed. They sat on the edge, Claire slightly turned so that her left stockinged knee pressed just above Sammi's right fishnet covered knee. 'Our first sexual contact,' Sammi smiled as she looked at Claire's lacy suspender belt. Sammi had never worn one and was fascinated and excited by the way it dug into Claire's hips making them more rounded and feminine. She found the elastic straps which stretched from the belt to the stocking unusually erotic. Two ran down across Claire's groins and thighs and two more circumvented her rounded hip adding emphasis to her womanly curves. "I love the suspenders," Sammi was saying as her friend slid her arm round her shoulders. "And I love these," Claire whispered placing her hand right on the lacy tops of Sammi's hold ups "They look lovely." "And absolutely so fucking horny," they heard, from Greg in the shadows. "You stay out of this and wait your turn," Claire said in a mock stern voice as she looked deep into her best friend's eyes. God she was so lovely. She wondered why she had hesitated when Greg had asked to see her with another woman. But her sort of 'biness' wasn't like a man fancying a woman or vice versa. She loved Sammi as a friend, but somehow kept that love away from sex. They had been as good as naked together, they had sunbathed topless and had even slept in the same bed without sex rearing its head at all. Now, though, it was as if a new order had been formed. As she watched Sammi half closing her eyes, parting her lips and tilting her head to one side a little, as their faces moved slowly, but inexorably towards each other, she wondered how that new order would be in the future. 'It's happening, it's starting, she's going to kiss me,' Sammi was thinking as she stared into Claire's eyes, which despite the dim light, she realised for the first time were deep green. She was relaxed,it was what she wanted wasn't it? She wanted to be kissed by another woman, she had for some time, it was just the 'right' other woman had not until now come along. As Claire's, quite full, parted lips stopped just a few inches from hers, Sammi realised that after such a famine of fanciable, females she now had three. Three females who had given her the will to explore the curiosity which had been with her for so long. Three women who had provided the desire for girl to girl sex. Three women who had and were now arousing her so much. The film stars Susan Sarandon and Catherine Deneuve and her best friend Claire. It seemed to be the most natural thing in the world, something, it felt she had done so many times, but then in her mind Sammi had kissed many women, including her 'special three.' This time, though, it really was Claire's mouth on hers, Claire's lips opening around hers and Claire's tongue gently touching hers. It was Claire's arms round her and it was Claire's left breast pressed against hers. Sammi was surprisingly calm, as if it happened every day. She wasn't fazed as she had felt she might be. Yes, her heart was pumping and her pulse was racing, but that was nice, not unpleasant. She was primed and ready, she wanted it, she wanted to give and to be taken. Yes, Sammi, realised as she and Claire began to squirm their lips more firmly together as the passion between them increased, she wanted Claire, her best friend, to fuck her. She kissed back, firmly and squelchingly. She opened her lips wide and welcomed Claire's tongue into her mouth, around her teeth and gums, against her own tongue and deep into her throat. She pressed back with her tongue, licking inside her friend's mouth, licking along her lovely lips and gently sucking on them one by one. Claire was amazed. Totally surprised, yet wonderfully pleased at Sammi's reaction, her most significant feeling was of relief. Relief that Sammi was so up for and, seemingly, into it, that she herself was relaxed yet immensely aroused and was able to lead her friend towards sexual fulfilment and that she felt comfortable being with another woman in front of her long-term partner, Greg. She had caught his eye a few times and was pleased to see the combination of joy, excitement and pleasure on his face. Momentarily it occurred to Claire that Sam must have been with a woman before, she was so relaxed about it, so in tune with it and so bloody good at it. Greg in fact was more excited than he had ever imagined he would be. He had always fancied Sammi and would probably have tried something had she not been so close to Claire. Seeing his 'most fanciable' woman, kissing the woman he loved was amazing. And seeing both his partner and his, soon to be, lover, sitting on his bed in their underwear and their outrageously erotic stockings was beyond his wildest dreams. Individually they looked amazing, together they created a vision of beauty and excitement which was well beyond his descriptive capabilities. So he just laid back in the chair, enjoyed his raging erection and watched the glorious scene unfolding in front of him still to the accompaniment of the sumptuously, sexy strains of the Flower Duet. Now that the ice had been broken, events began to unfold more quickly. Although not with undue haste, it was almost as if both girls wanted to go from tentative foreplay to serious lovemaking as soon as they could. Claire found Sammi's left breast in the lacy, black bra. She squeezed it, Sammi moaned and pressed back. Claire lifted the modest sized, but beautifully shaped and gorgeous feeling orb from the confines of the cup of the bra. Her fingers found and rubbed the small, coral pink areola and pinched the already interestingly hard nipple. Although, obviously, the sensations from Claire's hands on her breast were similar to those Sammi had received many times from men, the emotional sensations were so different. That was because it was another woman doing it, a woman who would soon make love to her, a woman whose partner was watching and might well do that as well, a woman who was Sammi's best friend. Kissing Sammi, Claire reached round behind her friend and deftly unclipped her bra. She let the straps fall apart and then slowly and gently she eased the cups away from her Sammi's breasts. She had seen them before, many times, but on those occasions, they were simply a pair of female breasts. Now, they were a pair of womanly tits, tits that were hers to use and arouse, tits to make love to yes, they were now sexual not friendship tits. Claire's hands cupping her breasts felt wonderful to Sammi; she groaned, arched her back a little and pressed back against them. 'It is like riding a bike, you never forget,' Claire was smiling to herself as she stroked, rubbed, caressed and squeezed Sammi's boobs. All the feelings, the memories, the sensations and the pleasures of those stolen times when she was at university experimenting with her sexuality flooded back. 'God, sexually at least," she thought to herself pinching her friends extended nipple, "I could be lesbian.' "Lay back Sammi," Claire muttered pulling on her friend's shoulder. Sammi lay in the middle of the bed, Claire sat on the edge staring at the young blonde. 'She really is gorgeous,' she thought her eyes taking in the golden blonde hair cascading onto the bed over Sammi's slightly tanned shoulders with a few strands falling onto her right breast. The pretty face with the sparkling, half-closed eyes and full, immensely kissable lips, which were slightly parted. The small, beautifully shaped breasts that were wobbling a little and going up and down as Sammi breathed, clearly rather heavily. The modest sized, coral pink areola and the fuller, nicely erect nipples. The flat tummy, the black thong snugly cuddling, or so it seemed to Claire, Sammi's seemingly rather prominent pubic mound. The patch of white skin, between where the vee of the black, lacy, silk thong reared up the maddeningly flat tummy and the beguilingly arousing tops of the black, fishnet stockings. Sammi's gorgeous legs made to look even longer and slimmer by the black hosiery, were invitingly, slightly parted. Sammi saw that some of Claire's hair had fallen down from the comb and large clip, which had been holding it up. A few strands fell across her face and some longer ones onto her shoulder. They looked very sexy, Sammi thought, quite revelling in lying back in just her thong and stockings as her friend visually fucked her, or so it seemed to her. Sammi was also acutely aware that Greg was an onlooker to all of this. She wasn't quite sure, though, just how that was affecting her and just how she was responding to the unseen watcher. Claire was smiling, not a beamingly, wide one, but a small grin, one of pleasure and anticipation as, indeed, she did visually fuck Sammi for she was imagining her mouth and hands all over her friend's most intimate places. The white of Claire's, more basic, but nevertheless still quite sexy, bra was low cut and totally see-through, underwear contrasted beautifully with her darker skin. Excited, far more than she had ever imagined, Sammi could see the dark shadows and large bumps inside the diaphanous, thin net, bra. She had seen Claire's dark areola and large nipples several times and such sights on others countless times, at the gym, the tennis club, in changing rooms and when she and Claire had undressed for bed, but never had she had a reaction such as this. It was as if she was about to see the Holy Grail. It was as men are, when they position themselves to get a 'flash of pink' and being so disproportionately excited when they do. Claire's nipples took on a whole new meaning as Sammi now looked at them as objects of sexual release and not just pink blobs on a little mound of flesh. Unusual Threesome That whole new meaning became even more powerful, even more appealing, even more erotic and even more sheer, downright horny when Sammi watched her friend unclip, then remove her bra. Whilst seeing her best friend baring her breasts for her was about the most erotic action Sammi had ever seen, that was soon surpassed when Claire reached up, unpinned her hair, shook her head and let her hair tumble down onto her shoulders. Seeing those two hugely stirring movements raised Sammi's sexual temperature almost off the scale. Claire lay down beside her friend. Sammi was on her back, Claire more on her side and front. She put one hand out to the side of Sammi's face and supported herself, but slowly bent her elbow so that her body sank onto Sammi's. Claire's leg slid between Sammi's which she parted a little more. The top of her upper thigh pressed against her friend's pussy, her hip and her suspender belt sank into the softness of her tummy and their waists were touching. Alternating their gazes between the other's eyes and the bare breasts before them, Claire slowly let her arm collapse so that her body came into more and firmer contact with Sammi's. Their lower chests merged and then, with Claire holding herself with her back arched their nipples touched. To both of them it was as if a match was being held against the very tip of their breasts. "Ugh, oooo," Sammi grunted, involuntarily, but nevertheless hugely pleasurably to both them, arching her back causing their breasts to squash together. Claire stopped arching her back, she stopped trying to caress the tip of Sammi's nipple with the tip of hers, she ceased being sexually suggestive. Instead, her arm went round her friend and pulling on her body and pushing with hers she squirmed both pairs of tits firmly together. "You sexy little bitch," she said smiling, rolling and writhing her body so that their breasts touched everywhere and were in permanent contact. "Takes one, to know one," Sammi replied, lifting her face and kissing Claire. "Touch my breasts, Sam," Claire said lifting herself up a little. Sammi looked at the two perfectly symmetrical, deep pink almost brown tipped breasts hanging down in front of her. It was the simplest, most natural and, surprisingly far easier than Sammi had visualised in her many masturbation scenes to reach and touch them. She pressed her fingertips softly against Claire's full nipple, it was beautifully hard. She ran her fingers over both orbs, they felt lovely, just like her own, but of course different because they were another woman's breasts. She cupped them, stroked them, caressed them and then squeezed them. "Oh yes Sam, yes, that's beautiful," Claire groaned as those wonderful feelings oozed through her. Sammi's confidence was boosted, her inhibitions slipped away, she felt, at the same time, more relaxed, yet more aroused. She wanted more of Claire, more of her breasts, more of her body and she wanted to give more of herself to her friend. Holding Claire's left breast in an almost reverent way, Sammi lifted herself, she eased herself upwards, closer towards Claire. Claire realised what Sammi wanted, what she was trying to do. She edged herself further up Sammi's body pushing her head back against the bed. She cradled Sammi's face in her hands and then dangled her breasts over her friend's face, just millimetres from her mouth. It was what Sammi wanted, what Claire wanted and what they both needed. Once the sensations of sucking another woman's nipples exploded throughout Sammi's body, their lovemaking became more urgent. Their actions were liberated and their gestures became more intense. Everything now seemed to flow in a perfectly natural, seemingly obvious, female bisexual manner. They kissed and stroked each other, they caressed the others breasts and sucked their nipples. Their found and fondled the beautifully rounded cheeks of the other's bottom and slid their hands down the flat tummies to the damp vees of the centres of their femininity. Whilst Claire was the undoubted leader, Sammi was such an enthusiastic, quick learning and eager pupil that it soon became mutual lovemaking and joint sex. It was becoming clear to both of them that it was now not the older one who was going to fuck the younger one, they were going to fuck each other. Greg didn't know what to do. It was, by some margin, the most erotic and exciting experience he had ever witnessed. It far surpassed even his wildest fantasies about it when he and Claire had lain naked caressing each other as they spoke about him watching her with another woman. It even surpassed their latest verbal fantasy, he and another man making love to Claire. He wasn't sure whether he should undress yet, but worried that if he did, he would not be able to resist masturbating and what a waste it would be shooting his cum onto his belly instead of in Sammi. He looked at Claire a couple of times and made gestures as to whether he should join and she shook her head. Well he thought she did, but he wasn't sure for her face was continuously contorted with the pangs of extreme arousal. They were continually kissing, deeply, greedily and passionately. Their lips were squirming, their bodies writhing and their hands squeezing and stroking as if they simply could not get enough of the other's body, which was actually the case. Claire had had full and complete lesbian sex when at university. She'd experienced both deep and intense mutual oral sex and hand-held, but not strap on dildo sex. Her experiences with other women hadn't included seduction or introducing a bi virgin to sex with another woman. She had thought considerably both, prior to tonight and since they had started, just how far they should go. Her first couple of times had not included oral either way. She had sort of thought that was the way to go. Maybe finger stimulation until orgasm this time and then introduce oral at a later stage. "Shall we take these off," Claire whispered, giving Sammi's black thong a little tug. "Yes," was her friend's simple, but highly inviting reply. Greg got so excited at hearing those words that he had to stand up to watch the amazing sight of these two beautiful women taking their panties off. As they slid the flimsy garments down their legs he revelled in hearing his long-term partner say. "But not our stockings Sammi?" "No let's keep those on." "Why?" "I like them." "What mine?" Claire asked, for some reason snapping her susupender belt. "Yes your's Claire, but also wearing them." "They excite you do they Sam?" "Yes, do they you as well Claire?" "Very much and Greg." "You like stockings do you Greg?" Sammi asked turning towards where she knew he was sitting. "I love them, they look amazing." "And are you enjoying our little show darling?" Claire joined in. "God Claire, you know you don't need to ask that." Claire put her arm round Sammi, they were lying flat on the bed, Sammi on her back, Claire on her left side. "And are you Sam?" "What?" "Enjoying this?" "Yes, Claire, yes I am." Claire bent her head and kissed Sammi, her hand gently cupping her friend's breast. She ran it down Sammi's body and slid it into the neat patch of nearly blonde, trimmed pubic hair. She paused there for a moment, lifted her head, looked into Sammi's eyes and said. "And you want more Sammi?" Sammi reached up and squeezed Claire's breast. "Yes Claire, I do." "What do you want?" Claire asked running her finger further down and finding Sammi's clit inside the hood of glistening pinkness. Sammi's body jerked, the sensation was hugely intense. "I don't know Claire." "Do you want to cum, Sammi?" "Yes, yes Claire I do. Please make me cum." It wasn't like one of those frantic, extraordinarily energetic orgasms usually portrayed in porn films. No, as Claire lay on top of Sammi they were calm and peaceful. It wasn't accompanied with screaming and inappropriate moaning. No, as their breasts merged and as their pubic mounds pressed together so both of them grunted and sighed with contentment. It wasn't like a gymnastic display with extreme writhing and rolling around. No, as their arms went round each other and gripped the cheeks of the other's bottom, so Claire simply made smooth thrusting movements to which Sammi's body involuntarily but willingly responded by thrusting back. They couldn't, of course, quite squirm their clits together, which would probably be the ultimate female bi experience. They could and did, though send tremors of feeling right to that place of such sensitivity, they caused little vibrations from their pubic mounds, they applied pressure and found a rhythm of smooth thrusting movements so that their lips and entire pussies were aflame and, of course, they ground their tits and nipples together. The serenity, the beauty, the tenderness, the caring and the sheer eroticism of the situation, slowly built their orgasms. They were perfectly in tune with and accompanied by the soaring arias of wonderful music and the beguilingly erotic scenes of Susan Sarandon and Catherine Deneuve making love. They didn't explode and sort of roar up a wall and then fall over the other side. It wasn't a sudden eruption or an instant explosion. No, whether by luck or judgement Claire and Sammi were able to create a joint and very mutual climax. It seemed to build and build before reaching a level just beneath fulfilment, where they were able to sustain the luscious feelings for what could have been hours, or simply minutes for time had no meaning, it was simply sensations that were paramount now. At last, at long, long last they finished. Claire rolled off her lover's body and they faced each other cuddling and pecking little kisses on the other's face and chest. The stockings covering their intertwined legs were all they were wearing. They contrasted so erotically with their bodies and set off the texture of their smooth skins so well. Greg was almost dumbstruck with the vision of his partner lying so seemingly comfortable and seemingly sated in the arms of another woman. They didn't look at him, they seemed to have eyes only for each other, he was he ruefully realises completely superfluous to the situation.. He wondered, "Have I lost Claire to another woman?"