1 comments/ 65293 views/ 12 favorites Tart Ch. 01 By: ZotDragon After seven years of marriage I've only had three affairs and I think that's a pretty good record. I suppose that's kind of embarrassing to reveal when you know that my husband hasn't had the opportunity, even once, to fuck another woman. We agreed when we married to have an open marriage and that's worked out well enough for me, but my poor husband is a little socially awkward—it comes from being a geek, I suppose—and hadn't ever managed to bed another woman. Oh, he had others before me, but the whole dynamic of being married and in an open relationship made things more difficult for him. Woman, of course, can bed a man easier than a man can bed a woman, it's the nature of the sexual beast in all men. While handsome in my eyes, he did have an odd look about him, plus his focus in life on computers and comic books didn't exactly grease the wheels of social engineering. So why did I marry this socially inept, slightly goofy looking geek? Simple: one, he's a lovable and sweet guy; two, being a computer geek landed him a job that earned him a big salary, not exactly a turnoff; three, like just about every geek I dated and fucked he loved to eat pussy and was adept at the task. Before we married, once night I was riding his cock , fucking until my pussy was sore, and I forced him to reveal—actually I asked him outright—what his fantasy for me was. He blurted out that he wanted to watch me fuck another man. This was a big enough revelation to make me stop bouncing on his cock. "Are you serious?" I asked him though the look on his face told me the truth. "Yes!" he cried out and flooded my pussy with his semen. And so we were on the road to an open marriage. Each time I would have an affair with another man John would get me in bed and coax every detail of my illicit coupling. It was very erotic, telling my husband every detail of my sex life, getting him horny and then fucking again. It might not be the lifestyle for everyone, but I enjoyed it very much. Perhaps too much because I started feeling guilty. Not about the other men who fucked me, but about how my poor husband was suffering because my pussy was the only one he got to fuck. This guilt manifested itself in a strange way. I started keeping secrets from John. The first secret was easy. John was away on a business trip one weekend so I went out to a bar and picked up a man, took him home and had sex with him. Not exactly a crime given my history, but the hurtful part was that I didn't tell John about it. The man I had picked up wasn't a very good lay and nothing became of it. After John returned we fell back into our normal routine, but it was unnerving. I was given freedom to fuck anyone I wanted, but I was keeping it a secret from the man who had given me the freedom. I started to worry that I would start keeping other things from him as well, and because he got as much of a sexual charge out of my affairs as I did, it was risking our whole relationship. I had to do something about this ridiculous situation. I decided to find a woman for my husband to fuck. Now, I couldn't just find any woman for John to have. She had to be beautiful, discreet, intelligent and sexy. This was a tall order, so I decided to start my search next door. Holly was a former divorcee with two children and a never-ending stream of men in and out of her home, and presumably bedroom, who happened to be our next door neighbor. This stream of men had ended two years ago when she married one of her many suitors. She was certainly beautiful and sexy, I had seen her in everything from evening dresses to tight shorts and t-shirts. She had long black hair that hung straight down her back and a pair of enormous tits, not artificially huge, but impressive if only for their size relative to her frame. I knew her to be discreet because she had never directly discussed any of her past boyfriends in her conversations with me, conversations that bordered on erotic. The approach was always the most difficult part. Holly had a set routine so it was easy to just drop in on her plans. Every morning, come rain or shine, Holly would go out running. It wasn't a losing battle for her, but she was past the age where her body was naturally shapely and now needed constant attention to retain its past glory. I, of course being a busy housewife, had little time for exercise and was content to let my body enjoy the full curves of womanhood. Holly preferred to fight the battle against every new inch added to her frame. Seeing her leave her house one bright, sunny morning I chased after her in shorts and t-shirt, with a bit of effort I managed to catch up to her and engaged her in a bit of conversation about how I was trying to get back in shape. She didn't seem all that excited by my new found enthusiasm for exercise until I reveled it was because I wanted to please my husband more. "He seems to pay plenty of attention to you," she said as she trotted down the road. "He does," I puffed as I stumbled after her. "I just want more." "Really?" she asked, mostly to herself which was good because I was too winded to answer. Taking pity on me, Holly cut short her run and invited me back to her house for something to drink. I managed to make it into her kitchen before collapsing. She gave me some sports drink I didn't recognize and took a seat next to me. "Actually," I said, "John is getting restless with our sex life. That's partly why I'm out here." A partial lie was better than the bold-faced truth, I reasoned with myself. "How's that?" she asked. "I know about your...history." She smiled. I blushed. I didn't know I could still do that. "John doesn't mind my affairs. I ones I've told him about." I hid my smile behind a sip from the bottle. "But he wants to involve another woman," I said trying to ease my proposal into the conversation. This seemed to pique Holly's interest even more. "And how's that?" she asked with a knowing smile. "Well," I said, trying to avoid the subject and wanting nothing more than to broach it, "if there's only other men involved, things can get kind of dull. We were thinking of adding another woman to the mix." "Now you have my full attention," Holly said, her eyes glowing and an eager smile playing across her lips. "Why are you telling this to me?" We both knew the answer, but she wanted me to say it. "We," I started to say, then corrected myself. "That is, I wanted to ask you if you were willing to be the additional woman." My face was blazing hot with embarrassment, but between my legs I was wet with excitement. Holly rested her hand on top of mine. "I'd love to," she said. I released my breath, not realizing I had been holding it. "We'd have to be discrete," she said. "Tom's pretty old fashioned in that respect and he doesn't want me playing around." I found it odd that her new husband was so conservative in that fashion, especially considering Holly's tramp reputation and history, but no matter. "Discretion is a must," I agreed. "Besides, if it's a secret, it's more exciting." "True," Holly agreed. "When would we do this?" "Sooner the better?" I suggested, not having a plan. It had been almost too much for me to work up the nerve to ask her; I hadn't planned on her saying yes. "How about right now?" she asked then leaned in and kissed me. Actually, it would be more accurate to say she pressed her lips against mine and forced her tongue into my mouth while I sat there, stock still, as a woman kissed me like a lover. What was going on? Realizing I wasn't responding, Holly backed away, her face held a puzzled look. "What's the matter? Too quick? She's a lesbian! I thought, then corrected myself. She's bi. And she thinks I want her. "Uh, no," I said stupidly. "I meant that I wanted you to fuck John, not me." "Oh?" she said and blushed with embarrassment. How weird is this? I thought. We're embarrassed that a woman came on to me when I was trolling for a lover for my husband. "I thought you wanted me." "No, no!" I said a little too forcefully. "You're beautiful, but I want my husband to have a lover so that we can both be equal in outside affairs." Holly blinked at me like I was stupid and on sale for a dollar. "I don't think I could do that," she said. "It would be one thing to have an affair with another woman, but Tom would be pissed beyond sanity if he found out I was with another man." It's okay for your wife to fuck another woman, but not a man? I asked myself silently. We made a bunch of stupid apologies over the confusion and I got up to leave. I needed to get out of her kitchen. "If you ever want to, though," Holly said, stopping me at the front door. "You know where I live." She winked at me. I nodded and bolted outside. I ran home and stripped off my clothes. I had been sweating from the run and the tension, but I didn't take a shower, I even left my panties on. When I slipped my hand down between my legs, I was pleased to discover I was still wet. Would making love to another woman really be so bad? I imagined Holly's lips on mine and I lay back on the bed. I imagined her kissing me, then my breasts, then having her head dive between my legs and have her tongue lick my clit until I orgasmed under my fingers. That was how John found me when he came home. My hand between my legs, panties on, sweaty from masturbation. He pulled my fingers from out of my panties and put them in his mouth, tasting the sweet tartness that had seeped into them. I wasn't sure if it was his sucking on my fingers or just his presence that woke me up, but it was good to have him close. "Don't stop there," I mumbled, barely able to open my eyes. He took my fingers from his mouth. "Where do you want me to go?" he asked me. "You already know," I sighed. And he did. Say what you will about geeks and make all the jokes in the world, they might not have the best bodies, they might not dress well or have refined social graces, but geeks are better than jocks for two incredible reasons. First, when they get out of college they get jobs that pay real money. Second, more than anybody else, geeks know how to eat pussy and they love doing it. John slipped down the bed and planted a kiss right on the crotch of my damp cotton panties. I spread my legs to give him better access. He inhaled deeply and I followed his example. The scent of sex was heavy in the air and we hadn't started but anything yet. Was that strong smell just from my masturbation? My husband hooked his fingers into the waistband and started easing my panties off. I was faced with the dilemma of closing my legs so he could strip me and forcing his face away from my eager pussy or keeping them wide open and not letting his tongue touch my soppy cunt. Quick like a rabbit I closed my legs and helped him get me naked. The pain only lasted a moment and then his talented tongue was probing deep inside of me. I sighed with relief. "That's good," I managed to mutter. He said nothing and concentrated on teasing out my clit. It took little effort, I was already hot for more sex. He wrapped his arms around my thighs, holding me in place, and set to work on bringing about my orgasm. I helped him along by fantasizing it was Holly down between my legs and not my husband. Just the image of her face looked up from my trimmed pussy, locking eyes with me was enough to send me over the edge. I came and my liquids gushed all over John's face. That was his signal. Not letting me come down from the first orgasmic high he somehow managed to push down his pants and free his erect cock. The next thing I knew he hand slipped it into my wet cunt and was pounding away, bringing we up onto the next crest of orgasm. He pushed me over the edge, keyed up by my reactions, and spurted deep inside of me, his semen soaking my cervix. I came again. Hard. A gasp of pain, then pleasure, escaped my lips. "You must have been extra horny today," John said a few minutes later when we were both able to talk. "You only lube up that much when some bug has gotten into you knickers." He liked to tease me using faux-British slang. It was one of his geeky, enduring charms. "Mm-hmm," I mumbled in agreement. Now that the passion was abated, at least for a few hours, I could think a little more clearly, and I didn't exactly enjoy where my thoughts were going. "Tell," he said to me. I'm weak. Through either unfortunate luck or feeble psychological makeup, I'm unable to resist his demands. I could, however, give only the essential information. "I was planning something special for you," I confessed. "I want it to be a surprise, thought." His weakness, I knew, was a love of surprises. "Oh?" Now he was intrigued. So easily lead along, I thought. "Yes, and I'm not going to give you the details because that would ruin it." "C'mon," he protested with a lack of sincerity. It was all part of the game. "Just a little something." "You already got a little something today," I told him, snaking my hand down over my moist curls and felt his semen seeping out of my pussy. "You'll have to wait." And that was that for the next few days. Screwing up my courage, since a tryst with Holly was obviously not something that would be happening anytime soon, either with her and John or her and myself, I decided to initiate my second choice. Tina was a second choice only by geography. Certainly she was more athletic than Holly for she had grown up a tomboy, easily as pretty, and sexually open-minded. Tina would have been my first choice for John's first affair if she didn't live four hours away. A roommate from college, she was my best friend, so who better to trust with my husband's cock? I called her up and after a bit of the usual small talk I broached the subject, finding it easier the second time around. "Tina?" "Mm-hmm?" she said. I could hear her on the other end of the receiver taking a drink of wine. No lush, but she worked a stressful job and was always in need of a little relief. It also made her more open to my suggestion, I reasoned. "You know about my affairs, right?" Of course she did. After telling John the details of my extramarital sex life, she got second dibs. "Yes?" she said, half question, half expecting something else. "I think John needs a little help in evening the score between us." "Okay," she said, not understanding where I was going. "Are you trying to hire a prostitute or some thing for him?" "No, no. He just needs a little help because he has trouble talking to women," I said. "And men, for that matter?" "So what? Are you going to go to a bar with him, chat up a girl and then send him home with her?" she giggled at her suggestion. "No," I sighed. "Not exactly. I'm just looking for someone who might be interested in him." "And where are you going to find that?" "I was thinking you," I blurted before I lost my nerve. There was silence on the other end of the phone. There was one other reason why I made Tina my second choice for John's lover. In college she revealed to me she had a crush on him. I swooped in on John and stole him away from her before she ever had a chance with him. Now I was offering him back to her. "Are you serious?" she asked quietly. "Yes," I said squeezing the phone tightly, trying not to pass out or have my voice crack. There was a tightness in my stomach I couldn't make go away. "Are you trying to make something up to me?" she asked. When I said I had only three affairs during my marriage I was being honest, if not complete in my revelation. While dating John in college we had conflicting schedules much of the time. There was an ex-boyfriend of Tina's whom I found particularly attractive; one semester he was in my Latin class. We studied together and discovered a mutual attraction for each other. One study session degenerated to a fuck session, which would have been great if Tina hadn't walked in on us after we were sleeping together. She saw us in bed, obviously basking in the afterglow of sex, and coolly excused herself and walked out. She never said anything to John about the affair, which lasted a few more sessions in bed, but we discussed it at length. Proclaiming only surprise and shock at the moment, she denied any jealousy, Peter was an ex after all, but I could tell she was upset I was fucking both Peter and John at the same time. Secretly, I thought she was jealous of my sex life, the amount and quality that I praised. She denied it, but was always flaunting her athletic body in front of me at all times. "No," I lied. "Well, not completely. I mean, we both had Peter, so I figured you might as well have a chance with John." I kept my eyes closed even though she couldn't see me and concentrated on breathing normally so she wouldn't know that I was in a near panic about what I was asking of her. It took all of my will to keep my voice normal and while not sounding nonchalant, keeping the anxiety hidden. "Is this an apology?" she asked, slightly teasing. "No," I said a little to sharply in contrast with her tease. "It's a present for John." "To make up for all the affairs you've had behind his back." The problem with Tina is that I've told her a little too much about my sex life. "They haven't been behind his back and you know that." The conversation was taking a turn for the worse. "Okay, okay," she relented. "It's just not every day I get a call from a friend offering me the services of her husband." "Actually, I wanted you to service him." "Same thing when it's your best friend fucking your husband." "He deserves the best," I said, the words unplanned but honest. The phone was silent a long moment. "Do you really mean that?" she asked. "Well, yeah, he's my husband, of course he deserves the best. I can't think of anyone who would be as good in bed as you." I didn't tell her about my earlier conversation with Holly. But that was just a matter of convenience, not quality. "I mean I've never fucked you so I can't say for certain, but I'm betting your almost as good as me in bed." There was another long silence. "You still there, Tina?" "I'm crying," she said quietly. "Why are you crying?" "Because you want to share your husband with me." "That shouldn't make you cry." "I'm crying because I won't be able to get away from work for two months." I had to laugh then. Trust Tina to make the ultimate practical realization when I'm trying to induce her to commit adultery with my husband. We talked a while longer and came to the conclusion that it was definitely going to happen but not anytime soon. Which brought me right back to where I started: guilt and a need to assuage it. There was a solution right in front of me that was easy enough to broach, but I was too childish to consider it earlier. What woman is always willing to fuck a guy regardless is he's married or not? That's right, the ex-girlfriend. Margeaux, known as Missy, had been John's girlfriend in high school and the summer before college. The girlfriend. The one that have given him her virginity. The one who had taken his virginity. The one who kept annoying me even though she was the nicest person in the world. Big tits. Long brown curly hair. Pale skin flecked with touches of freckles, not too many to be mottled on her skin and not too few to look childish. Fully hips and rounded ass. Tall enough to be noticeable but not freakishly tall. The perfect woman by almost any standard. And why would my husband to be end his relationship with Ms. Margeaux Perfect? "She wanted to date other guys," John said. That was probably true. I saw how she attracted men just by walking down the street in the middle of winter wearing a heavy jacket and three layers of pants. Hell, I saw her and got wet between the legs. So why was my husband so enamored of his new wife fucking around on him but the ex-girlfriend wasn't allowed to do this? Tart Ch. 01 "I think she just wanted to dump me and was using other guys as an excuse to get rid of me. Maybe," he said with a thoughtful pause, "it was her who inadvertently turned me on to the perversity of cuckolding." I was about to find out whether or not that was true and was going to use her to make a female cuckold of myself with my husband. And how did I know this woman when, given the state of most wives' opinion of the ex-girlfriend? We inadvertently met in the bookstore, struck up a friendship and discovered the other's status when John walked in and saw us talking. Yeah. Go figure. John's wife and ex both share the same interest in books. Geeks. How do you approach the ex of your husband and ask her to fuck him for you? This was uncharted territory for me. I started with a phone call and it went downhill from there. It wasn't as if Missy was avoiding us, she had always thoughtfully called back before. But a couple of days went by and I left another message for her. Then a few more days and another, followed up by a few emails. Nothing. If John was an average husband sneaking around on his wife, by this point Missy would have fallen into his lap and fucked him blue to Tuesday. But no, now went I want him to have a little pleasure, Missy is nowhere to be found and each time I didn't get her to respond to me just made me angrier. One night I finally lose it and foolishly leave one final message on her voicemail. "Listen, Margeaux, if you don't want to fuck John, that's fine. Just have the decency to call back and tell me!" I was through with the woman and ready to slam down the phone. It would have been for the best since I didn't leave my name and the whole situation had graduated to cartoon status. "What's that about John?" came a tinny voice from the other end of the receiver. Margeaux. "Margeaux?" I asked. "Yeah, it's me. I just got home. Been out of town on a business trip." Stupid cow! I told myself. Why can't you give Margeaux a little credit? She then must have looked at her caller id. "Have you been calling here every day?" I didn't want to admit that. And I was still angry over her lack of a call back and my stupidity. "Yes," I blurted. "I want to know if you'll fuck John." No use avoiding the question and if I didn't use my anger now, I wouldn't be able to use it later. "Uhhhh," she said to give her time to think. This annoying me. "Why would you ask that?" Which was really just another way of buying time. "Because I need another woman to fuck John," I said. "I've had a few affairs with other men and now it's his turn to have another woman." There was silence on the other end of the phone. I was getting a lot of that lately. Maybe she didn't know that John liked to hear about my affairs. To her credit, Margeaux's next question was pretty intelligent, considering the difficult spot I put her in. "Why would you want me to have sex with John. We've already done that." Yeah, don't I know it, I smirked to myself. "You're available. You're willing. And I know you and trust you that I won't have to worry about you trying to steal him away. He's already had you once. He can go back to relive some memories, but you can't have him forever." Another long pause. "Would you mind telling me what this is all about?" she finally asked. I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts and then slowly related to her my modern tale of marital woe. At the end when I told her my guilt over my pleasure overreaching John's she interrupted me for the first time. "Are you sure that's what it's really about and you aren't feeling guilty about having sex with other men?" "Nope, I'm sure," I said confidently. "He's kinky and I'm willing. What we need to know is if you're willing." There was no long pause this time. "Yes." So it was set up. A few days later Missy came over to our place for dinner. We three had a nice little meal and then I left to go shopping and see a movie to give them time enough alone. What we didn't tell Margeaux is that we had set a few tiny cameras in our bedroom so that John and I could record their fuck session. One of the many benefits of being a geek. What I didn't tell John was that I didn't go to the movies or shopping. After driving my car around the block and parking it, I snuck back into the basement of our place, into John's home office and directed the cameras from there. One of the benefits of being a geek's wife is the second-hand knowledge. After I left they must have gone right upstairs to the bedroom because they were sitting on the bed, holding hands and talking.. The audio quality wasn't the best with unidirectional mikes and one of them had turned on the stereo which mostly obliterated their voices, but I could see everything clearly. We had put a camera in the light fixture in the ceiling for an overhead view, one on top of the dresser for a wide view of the room, and a third carefully concealed behind the headboard of the bed for close ups of their fucking. They talked for a while and I grew frustrated, not being able to hear their words, then Missy stood up and for a moment I thought she was going to leave. But then at the doorway she turned and put a hand to her blouse. Slowly, she undid each button, not moving the shirt open, but just permitting access inside. I was afraid she would start doing some elaborate striptease like a stripper in a cheap men's club, but no, she just stood there, slowly removing her clothes. I've seen strippers work before and what she did was more erotic than any of those wild performances filled with acrobatic gyrations and lewd gestures. After unbuttoning her shirt but leaving it closed, she moved her hands down to the waist of her modest, knee-length skirt. The zipper was lowered and she dropped the skirt to the floor. Her long, pale legs were revealed, but her panties and hips remained hidden by the long hem of the blouse. She then kicked off her shoes and I realized, after zooming in with the dresser camera, that she wasn't wearing pantyhose or stockings. Just her bare legs. In her hair she had a pin, holding back her curls. That was pulled out and laid on the dressing table allowing her hair to fall around and frame her face. As she raise her hands I was treated to a quick glimpse of her black silken bra, but the momentary exhibition was then covered up. Then, almost shyly, she let her blouse fall to the floor leaving her in matching bra and panties. I became wet in my panties and I unzipped my jeans but resisted reaching between my legs to play with myself. Her body wasn't perfect, but any flaws she had were hidden from me. Big gorgeous breasts, smooth shapely legs, a slightly curved stomach that promised softness and pleasure, full hips and an inviting smile were just a few of her irritable features. John said something to her and she laughed, then turned around a took a few steps backwards towards him. In doing this she showed us her ass, perfectly shaped, full and round without being fat, covered by traditional bikini bottoms, no thong for this girl. John reached up and unhooked her bra. For the first time, I was jealous. Not of Margeaux, but of him. She turned back around to look at him and held the bra cups over her tits. With a smile she dropped the bra displaying the most gorgeous set of breasts I'd ever seen on another woman. They were bigger than mine, but nice and rounded with nipples that pointed straight ahead, surrounded by small areolas. Her pale white skin was dusted over with pale brown freckles, but her breasts were wonderfully free of these slight mars to perfection. John just smiled, entranced, as I was, by her beauty. She gave an order to him that was clear even with the poor audio. "Strip." He did so in record time. I don't think I'd ever seen him get out of his clothes as quickly for me. In an instant he stood before her naked and his penis semi-erect. She grinned at him and pushed him back down onto the bed with a stiff arm to his chest. With a relieved bounce he fell backwards, legs over the mattress edge. She dropped to her knees on the carpet and took his swelling cock in hand. I couldn't tell what she said right then, but it made him smile even more. Margeaux wasted no time and engulfed his rigid cock with her mouth. John groaned as she quickly worked up and down. Now, John is not enormously well-endowed, not a freak of nature in either direction, but his is wonderfully adequate for any woman's needs and as a consequence Missy was having a bit of a time getting his entire length all the way in her mouth. He had commented in the past that she could deep throat him and I was no eager to see this. But either my husband's cock had grown since she had last blown him or he was bragging without cause. I wondered if she was up to the task. But my husband's ex was no slouch in creativity. Seeing that she was having a bit of difficulty, she must have chalked it up to rusty skills and poor positioning. Without letting him move, she got on the bed and straddled his chest in an almost-69 position. I could see now she had a straight shot down her throat and immediately pushed John's cock into her mouth until her lips pressed against his pubic bone. I was impressed. So was John. He groaned in pleasure. Not only was he receiving a fantastic blowjob, but the view Missy was presenting him of her black panty covered crotch just inches from his face was certainly one he had enjoyed before. I wondered if he was having fun reliving high school. He took no action, not even resting his hands on her plump ass. She must have told him not to touch her yet. It didn't matter. Bent over, ass in the air, fellating John, letting her tits drag against his stomach was more than my poor husband could take for long. After only a minute or two between her lips he gave a strangled cry and Missy backed off just a bit, letting him shoot his cum into her mouth. She swallowed his load with a practiced air. I zoomed in with the dresser camera and noted the bits of semen on her lips that were then wiped off with the back of her hand. After they had rested a few minutes she rolled off him and laid on her back, knees up and spread. "Your turn," I heard her say clearly to him. Eagerly John got off his back and crawled over to her. I admired him. His penis was still semi-erect and I knew my husband was eager to fuck. He reached for Margeaux's panties. She stopped him and shook her head saying something. His eyebrows went up and he pulled his hand away, then lowered his face to her silk covered snatch. Showing remarkable skill he slowly pulled down her panties with his teeth exposing her neatly shaved bush. I'm not one for over enthusiastic grooming of one's crotch, bald is for babies and uncontrolled growth is for unsullied national parks, and Missy managed to strike the exact right middle ground. Obviously manicured and maintained, but still appearing natural. She was a natural brunette—no surprise—but I was thrilled to see her pouty pussy lips peaking out between her legs. She sighed and closed her eyes, let her knees fall open and brought her hand up to her tits. John fell upon her cunt and feasted with a vengeance. I've been under John's tongue many times before. I've had many men eat my pussy and I can saw without a doubt that John was the best of them all. He knows right where to put his tongue, when to suck and when to tease. When I want my clit licked and when to back off. His enthusiasm for cunnilingus was only exceeded by his endurance in performing it. More than once I had to push him away I was so exhausted from cumming. I couldn't see exactly what he was doing to her cunt, but I could well imagine him inhaling deeply of her scent, licking her from clit to perineum, circling the asshole, and then back up to the top. I knew he slipped a finger inside her when he moved a hand down from around her thigh to under his face, whether it was in her ass or cunt was impossible to tell. For her part Margeaux massaged her tits and twisted her nipples helping her slowly work up to an orgasm. I watched the two of the tangled together on the bed, occasionally slipping my hand down to tease my own pussy and wished John would hurry up and make her cum. After I glanced at the clock did something occur to me. Missy hadn't cum once yet, and certainly not for a lack of both of them trying to bring her to that fragile plateau. Was she frigid? Unable to cum. I laughed at her plight, slightly enjoying her discomfort and pleasure mixed together. I never had that problem, even when I was much younger, orgasm was always a sweet and easy victory. To prove my point I pushed my panties all the way down and slipped a pair of fingers into my wet pussy. It only took a few seconds and the wave washed over me, making my legs shake and a cry escaped my lips. I could feel wetness leaking from between my legs. Still she hadn't cum. What was this girl's problem? Surely she couldn't expect poor John to go on for hours? Not that he couldn't. Finally, as I was started to get bored watching he lay on her back with splayed legs and my husbands face in her cunt, she pushed him back with a hand to his forehead. I wondered if she had cum or just gotten bored, but apparently she was still ready for more action. She rolled over onto hands and knees and stuck her ass in the air. With a sultry look over her should she said something to John that had to be an invitation. Loyal man that he was, he was now fully erect and ready to fuck her hard. But they seemed intent on having a short conversation first. The one subject the three of us hadn't discussed was protection. Poor planning and mood killing now to bring it up, I thought, angry at Missy for delaying and possibly preventing my husband's well-earned pleasure. The conversation then abruptly ended and John knee walked up to her offered ass. Cock in hand he sunk it deeply and easily into her moist cunt. I sighed in happiness. Margeaux turned her face into the pillow and dropped her chest to the mattress, forcing her ass even higher. John just started pounding into her. I looked at his ecstatic face, covered with Missy's pussy juice, and slipped my hand down into my cunt again. I wanted to cum when he did so we could both enjoy Missy together. It didn't take long. He was worked up and ready to fire off, even after the blowjob he had received. With both hands he grabbed her hips and shouted a strangled cry as he shot his semen inside her pussy. Only then did Margeaux's own orgasm erupt from within. The sensation of John's hot spunk splashing over her cervix and g-spot pushed her over the edge like it often did with me. I joined the two with a second orgasm of my own. After filling her cunt, John was exhausted and collapsed on top her Margeaux, forcing her down to the bed. I watched them relax together in that near-sleeping state that overtakes you after a good fuck session. I knew it wouldn't last too much longer so I quickly dressed and snuck out of the basement office. Down the street I sat in my car and waited for Margeaux to emerge from our house. The deal was she was to leave when they were done, no sleepover. I waited over half and hour listening to some ghastly station, before she came out, got in her car and left. I wondered if they had fucked once more before I left, but no matter. It would be recorded by the cameras. I went back into the house and found John half asleep in the bed, sheets in disarray, him still naked. I crawled on the bed and took his flaccid cock in my mouth, tasting his semen and her cunt. It was a delicious mix. This was enough to wake him up. "Honey?" he asked still groggy. "Mm-hmm?" I asked, my mouth full of his penis. "Did you see her leave." "Yes," I said taking him out of my mouth. "Was she as good as you remembered?" "Yes," he said. "It was also just as hard to make her cum." I laughed and masturbated him a bit before taking him back into my mouth and wondered how hard it would be to make him cum a third time tonight. It was harder than I initially anticipated, but before the night was over, I managed to get my pussy flooded with John's semen. I had to ride him, his favorite position when he's tired, but it was so worth the effort. Tart Ch. 02 The next morning John seemed uncomfortable as we ate breakfast. I knew why, or so I thought, so I decided to quiz him. "Wasn't Missy as good as you remembered?" I asked. "What?" he asked, startled, knocking his cereal bowl to its side, dumping half the contents on the table. "No," he said. "Yes?" Clearly I had frazzled him. I rested my hand atop his as he tried to clean up the spilled cereal. "It's okay," I reassured him. "I set it all up. You and I set the cameras? Remember? Oh! That reminds me, I want to watch it again." I half got up as he stared blankly at me. "Yeah, I forgot to tell you about that part, didn't I?" "How did you already watch?" "I snuck back into the office last night and watched you two on the cameras." I tried to deflect my subterfuge away from me by focusing the spotlight on Missy. "That Margeaux has a delicious body. I almost wished it was me in bed with her, not you." "You think she's attractive?" he asked. The hint of lesbianism always distracts the average man. "Not just attractive. Hot. Beautiful. Eminently fuckable. Perfect pale skin, big tits. I've always been proud of mine, but hers are huge without being ridiculous. You must have some lucky wife to let you fuck another beautiful woman like that." "That's kind of funny," he said. "What?" "When we were talking last night, Margeaux said that she wished you were with us last night. She said she's already had me, but thought to have me and you at the same time would be heaven on Earth." I stared at him a long time, unable to say anything. What had I done? ····· It's one thing to let your husband fuck other women. It's another thing to fuck other men with your husband's knowledge. Both are acceptable, even desirable. It's also fun to tease your husband with the fact that you might be open to some girl on girl action because you had a crush on your roommate in college. It's even more fun to tease him with the idea that, given a few more drinks and a half hour more of opportunity, you would have happily walked down that thrilling path of bisexuality. But when I was confronted with the reality that my husband wanted to take me and his ex-girlfriend to bed at the same time, I panicked. I don't have anything at all against lesbians, gays, bisexuals or what-have-yous in the wide world of sexuality orientation. I've always been flattered, a little turned on, and more than a bit intrigued the few times other women have hit on me, sometimes seriously, sometimes not. It's just that I never really expected to go through with it. When I have delved into my lesbian daydreams and fantasies, it was more emotional than physical. My typical lesbian fantasy was basically meeting up with the most beautiful woman in the world, all natural, no plastic, no big hair, and the scent of flowers in the air. We'd meet, laugh, talk, then have a few chaste kisses on the cheeks, that would progress to a few erotic kisses on the insides of our wrists (why this is an important part of my fantasy I'll never know), that would progress to a mutually agreed upon visit to a bedroom which is somehow communicated though neither of us say a word about it. Once we get to the bedroom our clothes magically melt away, we slip into bed and make passionate love like you can see described in the cheapie romance novels found at the grocery checkout. Never, ever is there a vibrator or dildo in sight. Now that's all well and good, but when I fantasize about fucking a man, it's all about cock and cunts, fingers and lips, penetration and ejaculation. Sometimes it's just one guy, sometimes it's two; sometimes it's John, quiet often it isn't. There's no romance, no kissing of wrists, it's all about getting my rocks off. I still cum with either fantasy, it's all a matter of my preference at the time. John was presenting me with an unnatural collision of my two types of fantasy. The reality was somewhat more shocking than the fantasy. ····· "What did you tell her?" I asked, hesitantly. "That you were open to the idea of sex with a woman. That we'd discussed menage a trios before, but we never went anywhere with them. I didn't make any promises. I told her I needed to talk to you first." I nodded my head. "Good thinking." "It's kind of odd," he said, not really hearing what I said. "When she and I were dating, she never gave me any hint that she was into women. Maybe that came about after she and I broke up. Still, you've got to admit, her being bi is hot." "Sometimes women, girlfriends and wives make up stories like that to keep their boyfriends interested." He looked up at me as if those were the first word he really heard me speak this morning. "I suppose that's true," he admitted, not really understanding what I was implying. "But when she told me that she's been with two other women, in her case it must be true." Unless she's lying, I thought to myself. "Why me?" I asked out loud, mostly existentially but as a secondary consequence, to John. He smiled. "Well, she's wanted to try having sex menage a trois for some time, and since she's already been with me, and you're my wife, and you have bi fantasies and she's been with other women, it just seemed natural to her." "Did you tell her about my lesbian fantasies?" I asked him, a bit stunned at the news. "Sure. She asked about you and it seemed to come up as a topic." I bet it did, I thought to myself. "When was this?" "After we were done...uh, fucking last night." "What did she say about me, exactly?" "That you were incredibly attractive and she wondered what you were like in bed." He grinned again. "I did the best to inform her about what a great fuck you are." I bet you did, I thought to myself, not without a little wifely pride. "And what do you want to do about her offer?" I asked him, already knowing the answer. "I accepted, of course," John replied. "We have to set up the date soon." He was like a puppy: eager to please and cute as a...well, cute as a puppy. "But before we do that I want to watch the video from last night." We went down to the basement and watched what we had recorded. I had to admit it was just as hot the second time as it was the first. Unlike a woman, John didn't look at his image and worry over every blemish or flaw. He concentrated on Missy's body. So did I. As we were watching, John made me pull down my pants and he took me from behind. It was easy to do because I was so wet again after watching John fuck Missy. Or was I hot from watching Missy get fucked? Or was I hot because I wanted to fuck Missy. I didn't know and the confusion made me even hotter for the both of them. It was a quick hard fuck and John exploded inside of me, leaving his cum dripping from my pussy as I was bent over on the desk watching my husband and his lover fuck on the video screen. I never thought I'd be doing that in my life, but it was certainly worth every bit of confusing emotion. It was also a long and circuitous explanation as to how I eventually found myself only inches away from Margeaux's wet and musky pussy. ····· John wasted no time in setting a date for Margeaux to come over and be our toy. I was excited and nervous and afraid and anxious and horny for it to happen. I was certain I would chicken out at the last minute. I didn't say this to John because he kept talking about what he wanted to see me and Margeaux do, which basically boiled down to every possible lesbian act two women could perform without aid of a man or gymnastic equipment. I got the impression he would be happy to watch and jerk of surreptitiously in the corner while I lesbianized his ex-girlfriend. Typical male. And the typical tart I was, made this scenario just as exciting to me. How does a young, white, middle-class couple get ready for their first menage a trois? You invite the ex-girlfriend over for a nice dinner, engage in small talk for an hour or so over the dinner, have two bottles of wine between the three of you, then let the aggressor, in this case Margeaux, take my hand and say, "Are you ready to go take me and your husband to bed? You've had quite a bit of wine and I don't want you falling asleep on me before we make love." My response? A girlish giggle followed by some bashful head nodding. Keeping a firm grip on my hand, she pulled me up and lead me into the bedroom. I willingly followed her swaying hips that were covered in a saucy wool plaid skirt, underneath the skirt her legs were encased in bright red stockings, tights really, she topped this with a plain white blouse and a wool sweater to match the skirt. I thought it was cute and demure until I realized as we were walking to the bedroom it evoked a Catholic school-girl image. I wondered if this was some kink John had kept hidden from me because I knew that Margeaux had never attended Catholic school. Maybe it was just something she indulged in herself. I couldn't focus my head enough to figure it out. John stumbled behind us, not wanting to miss a moment of anything. Once we go to the bedroom, Missy tossed off her sweater, whirled around, pulled me tight to her and kissed me hard. I was surprised even though I knew we were supposed to be having sex shortly. The suddenness and softness were the real surprises. No preliminaries, no questions, just her lips suddenly on mine and then her tongue making it's way into my mouth. I pressed against her. It wasn't my fantasy, but it was close enough. It might have been John's fantasy so I couldn't disappoint him either. Kissing a girl, while the basic mechanics are the same, is completely different from kissing a boy. Margeaux was softness and curves, no hard angles or firm muscles beneath her smooth skin. Since we were both well-endowed and approximately the same height, our tits mashed together which formed a sort of odd barrier to keep us apart. That didn't stop her of course, she just pulled me all the tighter. After the initial surprise, I managed to kiss her back, forcing her tongue from my mouth and slipping my own between her lips. She lightly bit down on it as a means of keeping me steady while he hands slipped down from my back to my waist where she pulled my shirt from my pants. I didn't resist as she pulled away and removed my shirt, exposing my skin and bra to her. "Plain white," she said, placing her hands over my lace covered breasts. The bra was largely transparent so I knew she had a look at my erect pink nipples before she covered them up. "Soft too," she whispered in my ear, glancing at John who had taken a seat on the chair in the bedroom. He put a hand to his crotch to shift his erection. "That's how a like them." She kissed me again, pulling me close and moving her hands around my back. With a distracting kiss to my neck, just under the ear, she worked her hands behind me and next thing I knew my bra was off and I was half-naked. It felt good. It felt wrong. It felt sinfully, morally corrupt and delicious. I couldn't wait for what would happen next. "Let's get you ready," she said now, dropping to her knees, unbuttoning my pants and pushing them down over my hips. I kicked off my shoes and socks with her help then stepped out of my pants. Now I was down to just my bikini panties, also plain white, also lace, barely covering my blond curls between my legs. "You're beautiful," she whispered in my ear, glancing again at John. He was breathing heavily, his hand still on his crotch, absently rubbing his cock through his pants. "You want to join us?" she asked him. He shook his head. "Not yet. Soon." Missy smiled, maybe it was a smirk, I don't know. I was keyed up and ready to fuck. "Get on the bed," she told me. I did so, laying on my side, to watch her disrobe. First she pulled her blouse out of her skirt, then she reached to her side, lowered the zipper, and dropped the plaid wool to the floor. It was to be a striptease like John had received, I realized. Her legs her partly hidden by the long blouse, which she slowly unbuttoned and then dropped to the floor as well, showing off her big tits. They were definitely larger than mine, but that's okay, because hers will sag before mine do. Her bra was red, to match her tights and panties. Then I saw she wasn't wearing tights, they were thigh high stockings held up with a classic garter belt. John had always tried to get me to wear garter belts, telling me they were sexy. My response was they were inconvenient. Maybe now I could agree with him. I should have seen the bright red under her shirt, but perhaps that's why she wore the sweater. No matter now, for Missy unclipped the front closure and disentangled herself from the bra. Her big tits stood out proudly, nipples erect. Maybe she wouldn't sag before me. I wondered how she would take off the stockings and garter belt. Before she did, she got on the bed with me after kicking off her shoes and presented her back to me. "Help me with this?" she asked. The garter belt, I realized and unhooked it from around her waist. She sighed as I did so. I let my fingers trail over her smooth skin and enjoyed the silky texture. With practiced fingers she detached the dangling garters from the belt and tossed the belt away. She lay down on her back, allowing her massive breasts to flatten over her chest. Natural, no silicon, I thought to myself. Not that I could really compare the difference. It wasn't like I was in the habit of feeling up other women. Her knees bent and legs separated slightly. I could see her bulging mound under her red silk panties. There was a hint of moisture seeping through the material. I licked my lips, nervous and anxious. "Take off my stockings," she ordered. "Just roll them down." Easy to do, I told myself and placed my hands on her thigh. It was heaven under my fingers. It took a false start, but then the stocking came off easily, leaving her naked, like me, except for our panties. I'm sure mine were showing the same wetness hers were. It occurred to me, after I had taken off the stocking I could have as easily left them on. But no matter, they were already off and now I could feel every inch of her gloriously smooth skin. "Ready?" she asked me. I could only nod my head in affirmation, unable to move my eyes from her bulging crotch. I couldn't even look over at John to see what he was doing. I just wanted her panties off. She arched up her hips, lifting her buttocks from the bed and invited me to remove them. With trembling fingers I tugged on the elastic band holding the scrap of silk around her hips and slowly pulled down, revealing first more skin, then the top edge of her pubes, then her fully shaped pubic hair, then, after the silk stuck for a moment to her wet lips, her open and pulsing pussy. I slipped the panties the rest of the way down her legs and dropped them to the floor. She spread her legs further and invited me in. It was here when I realized I had never seen a pussy up close and personal before. Of course I had seen my own, both from above and in a mirror, and I'd seen my share of beaver shots in all sorts of porn, but I'd never seen another woman's pussy as a matter of personal choice. When you stop to consider it, your genitalia, whether a cock or a cunt, is the most personal part of you, other than your face or soul, and yet so few people actually get to see it. Missy's cunt was beautiful. I wouldn't describe it as beautiful like a flower or a piece of fruit, artistic interpretations of the world be damned. To me it looked just like a pussy, with shaved labia and a generous portion of curly brown hair decorating the top and just barely hiding the clit hood. It was a dusky, dark pink and was lovely to behold. I could just see her clit starting to peek out from under a fold of skin. I was wet and nervous and decided to make the plunge before I could chicken out. I closed my eyes and lowered my mouth to kiss her pussy. I took the middle road, not thrusting my tongue right into her hole nor kissing her thighs and tummy for hours on end. I kissed her lightly on the pubes, then moved down a little to the top of her slit, offering a slight kiss to her still hidden clit, then I moved right down to her opening and tasted her juices and started licking her like I enjoyed. She seemed to enjoy it too for I could hear her moaning and pretty soon I had to wrap my arms around her soft thighs to keep my face positioned over her pussy. It wasn't bad. Eating pussy, I discovered, even in my semi-drunk state, was fairly enjoyable. I'd tasted my own pussy juices before, either off my fingers or from John's face so the musky, tart taste of Missy's pussy was no surprise. I liked the way it heated up the more I worked on her and the wetter she got, the more turned on I got. I opened my eyes at one point to see her reaction and found her squeezing a tit with one hand and clutching the sheets with the other while she looked down at my face buried in her cunt. She smiled at me. I would have done the same back, but I had just started to go after her clit with my tongue, the way John would on me when he wanted me to cum on his face, and her eyes rolled up into her head and her whole body started shaking. I paused for a moment, frightened I had hurt her, but she cried out, "Don't stop," and I realized she was cumming. I was making a girl cum by going down on her. I was excited and happy. A minute later she screamed her pleasure and clamped her legs around my head. I stopped working on her clit and let her orgasm subside. "I thought you could only cum when a man cums inside you," John said, breaking our relaxation. She laughed at him. "That's the only way I can cum with a man," she replied. "With a girl almost anything works." She laughed again and half sat up, pulled me up to her face and kissed me, letting her lips and tongue linger long enough to taste her own pussy. "It's the softness," she told me, her voice barely audible. "And how a woman knows where to touch and kiss. Plus knowing it's wrong, it makes it better." I kissed her back, happy I could make her cum. "Now it's your turn," she said, pushing me down. In a moment she was on top of me, kissing my lips, then breasts, stomach, pulling off my sopping panties and exposing my pussy to her anxious tongue. "You're gonna love this," she said before she plunged forward, burying her face in my golden curls. I couldn't have agreed more. Her tongue might not have been as talented or experienced as John's, but just the mere naughtiness of knowing it was a woman eating my cunt made it enjoyable, not better than John, but different and new and exciting. I was so keyed up and the anticipation was so great it took me no time at all to cum. I locked my legs around her head momentarily when she vibrated her tongue on my clit and then I had to push her away. "You cum so easily," she said, wiping away my juices from her face. "It's a talent," I said, laughingly. "I've always been multi-orgasmic." "Don't I know it," said John. I managed now to look at him. He had stripped naked and his erect cock was in his hand. Slowly he stroked it. The head was angry and red; I knew he wanted to cum. "Who can I fuck?" he asked anxiously. "I don't want to waste this on my hand." "Fuck her," Margeaux chirped, pulling him down to me. "I want to watch." She scooted over on the bed as John quickly engaged me. His cock easily slipped into my wet cunt. I turned my head to look at Missy. She was lying on her side, on hand propping up her head, the other busy between her legs. John fucked me hard and fast, exactly what I needed just then. In only a minute he sprayed the inside of my vagina with his spunk. I came again. The feeling of hot semen inside me works every time. Actually, a lot of things are just what I need to have an orgasm, which is why sex is so wonderful. "That's it?" Margeaux half laughed as we finished and John collapsed on top of me. Tart Ch. 02 "I've been jerking off since we walked in the room," John protested. "That's okay," Margeaux said, pushing him off me. "I'm hungry for another taste of your wife." Without the slightest hesitation she dove back between my legs and started performing cunnilingus on me again. "You like cream pies?" John asked as he watched her slurp his cum out of my pussy. I was a little shocked as well. From what John had said she was bi, but this was supposed to be her first threesome. She backed off for just a moment. "I don't know yet," she said. "This is the first one I've tried. But so far it's delicious." And back to work on me she went. John and I watched her. After two rapid orgasms it was going to take me a while to cum again, but I was surprised at how quickly John became erect. "Lesbians?" I breathed at him. "Really? That's so common?" He shrugged. "I'm I man," he said in way of explanation. He looked at Margeaux's ass shoved into the air as she knelt between my legs and worshipped my pussy. "Can I fuck her?" he asked me. I thought it was incredibly sweet that he asked permission to fuck Missy before just taking the initiative. "Yes." I gasped as Missy's tongue worked it's way around my clit. "Go." He needed no further encouragement and quickly positioned himself behind Margeaux to fuck her doggy style. She had been listening and moved her legs for easy access. John slipped right inside her and started fucking away. I looked down between my legs at Missy eating my pussy and then up at John fucking his old girlfriend and was overcome with love and lust for them both. I screamed as I came. John must have orgasmed shortly after me because Margeaux added her cry to mine as she came with her cunt full of his cum. We collapsed together on the bed, laughing and giggling. With just a whispered invitation, Margeaux encouraged me to dip my fingers into her pussy and I tasted her cunt and John's come on my fingers. She and I shared the treat as we drifted off to sleep. Tart Ch. 03 After the first time it’s so easy to fall into a pattern. Margeaux would come over quiet often after that and we would share her, John and I. Whoever wasn’t fucking would watch. John especially loved to watch us. We didn’t always have the three of us fucking simultaneously, but it was more than enough for John and I. My guilt over my affairs was gone and he got to live the life most men can only dream about. Margeaux, however, still wanted more. One night John was working late, I was home alone, expecting to watch TV until I fell asleep or John came home. I was surprised when Missy knocked at the door dressed like she had been out on a date. Even though we were sleeping with her, she was still dating other men. She was a woman with an almost insatiable sex drive. After I let her in she grabbed my hand and put it up her skirt until my fingers grazed her pussy lips. They were wet and sticky. I was still a bit sleepy from my nap on the couch and I looked at her dazed. “It’s not John’s spunk,” she told me in a way I could only see as proud. “It’s Brian’s.” I didn’t understand why she was having me feel another man’s spunk in her cunt. Missy wasn’t one to always wear panties on a date, so that part didn’t confuse me. “I told him about you and me and John and now he wants to fuck you while John watches,” she said. I was a bit taken aback. I suppose I shouldn’t have been, but the timing and the manner of her presentation to me was just more than a little off kilter. “Okay,” I agreed, speaking the word slowly. “But why are you having me finger you right now?” I asked her pulling my hand away slowly. She crossed her legs in the manner of a little girl who had to pee, or a grown woman who wanted to fuck. “Because Brian’s outside in his car right now, ready to come in and fuck you. Where’s John?” she asked, puzzled he wasn’t at the door or in the living room. “He’s working,” I explained, still a little puzzled. “Tonight’s probably not the best night for this.” There was a knock at the door and a moment later it opened. Brian walked it. Oh, I thought to myself. Brian. That Brian. Small world. Big cock. Brian was one of the men I previously had an affair with. Big cocked Brian. Not so big it was elephantine, but larger than any other man I’d every had. Impressive. Good the in sack. Could go for a long time pumping in and out of me. Wasn’t that great in eating pussy, but I was used to the best in that respect. I wondered where Margeaux had found Brian. “Hi, babe,” he said. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or Missy. It didn’t matter. Just looking at his dark eyes and wavy black hair was enough to get my juices flowing again. I remember he had nice furry chest too. My knees were getting weaker by the moment, as was my resolve to not have sex with either Margeaux or Brian tonight without John being there. “Are we on for tonight?” “John’s not here,” I said, finding no conviction in my words that they were an explanation of why I wouldn’t have sex without him. “That’s okay,” Brian said, reaching for me. I didn’t back away. “We can get started without him and he can join in later.” “He might not be home until after midnight.” I watched as he started unbuttoning my blouse, exposing my breasts to the cool air. I had dispensed with my bra the moment I got home from work. “Even better,” he said. “I’ll give you a good fucking and leave you wet and sloppy for John, just like we used to.” I was flooded with memories and juice as I remembered our old fuck sessions. More than once John had unknowingly added his spunk to Brian’s inside my cunt. Just as often he knowingly added his spunk. “I already gave Missy a crotch full of my best.” Missy laughed at his crudity. I moistened further and let Brian drop my blouse to the floor. He fell to his knees and unzipped my pants. I stood there is passive excitement as he stripped me down to my panties as Missy looked on. “Here or in the bedroom?” she asked us. Or rather Brian, because I was too lacking in will to make any answer. “Here,” he said. “It’ll be fun to see John’s face when he walks in and sees us fucking her.” He paused a moment. “Or, if he doesn’t come home before we’re done, we can leave her here and she can show him how she was fucked.” I smiled as Brian slipped his hand inside my white panties and his fingers found my well-lubricated cunt. “Naughty girl,” he said to me. I had no willpower and wanted to collapse backward. Missy was there to hold me up. I pressed my back against her soft breasts. She reached around and tweaked my erect nipples. “I’m going to enjoy this,” she said to me. I nodded in agreement as Brian lowered my panties to the floor. Before I knew it I was on my hands and knees with Brian’s cock inside my cunt and was pumping away. Missy had rucked up her skirt to her waist and presented her cunt to my gasping lips. Brian’s cum was drying on her sparse pubic hair. She leaned back on her elbows and worked her way down to me. “Go ahead,” she ordered me. “Brian’s good with his cock, but his cunt licking needs some polish.” “I know,” I agreed and lowered my mouth to her red and juicy cunt. Brian’s cum was still sweet, Missy’s cunt was still tangy. I wanted to cry I was so overwhelmed with lust. Instead I ate Margeaux’s pussy with abandon and met Brian’s every thrust with a reciprocating thrust of my own. They left me on the floor of the living room, my hands lightly bound to the couch with a hank of rope they found in the garage. I could have escaped if I had wanted, but I needed John to find me this way. I don’t know why. Maybe I wanted him to see I was still a desirable sexual object to others. I wanted to make him a bit jealous so he would want me more. “Have you been bad,” John said when he woke me. There was a piece of paper in his hand. I nodded yes. He indicated the paper. “This note says that Missy and Brian fucked you tonight and I need to finish you off. Is that true?” he smiled. “Yes,” I said softly. He didn’t even have to tell me what to do. I maneuvered myself back to my elbows and knees, presenting my ass and still wet pussy to him. He lowered his zipper and fucked me hard, taking no concern for my own pleasure, but working to make himself happy. It didn’t take long before his semen mixed with Brian’s and I had my own orgasm too. Only then did John free me from the bonds and brought me upstairs to our bedroom. ····· I wasn’t sure what we were going to do about Missy and Brian after that, and before John and I could come up with a plan for them, we were woken out of bed the next morning by the ringing doorbell. John and I aren’t early risers in the first place, so I wasn’t in the best of condition based upon the previous night’s activity added to the crack of dawn hour, when I swung open the door ready to confront Missy, the police or perhaps even the newspaper boy. I was pleasantly surprised and shocked to find my oldest and best friend Tina at the door. She greeted me with a happy scream and a hug. I could barely hug back. “What are you doing here before the sun is up?” I managed to mumble. “Sun’s been up for three hours,” she said. “Did you see who I brought?” I blinked blearily at the man she brought inside. I didn’t recognize him and reflexively stuck out my hand. “Hi.” “Keith, this is my best friend in the world.” Tina grinned at me. “I brought him along to take you up on your earlier offer.” Sometimes skiers keep wishing for snow for that big weekend trip and then get snowbound for a week because it just won’t let up. “Did you tell him everything?” I asked. Tina laughed. “Nope. I told him he’s coming here for a surprise and he’s going to love it.” Keith smiled at me. He was nice, cute even with bland attractive looks and nice brown wavy hair. “Tina refused to tell me why I’m here,” he said. She interrupted him. “This is the first weekend I’ve managed to get away from work and I could really use some rest and relaxation.” She winked at me. Obviously she was psyching herself up for what I had offered her. “I plan on having a good time.” “You’d better let me wake up John.” Tina followed me up to the bedroom, leaving Keith downstairs. “We can tell him over breakfast,” she whispered to me. “I’ll whip you guys up some pancakes and eggs.” Besides being a wonderful best friend, Tina is a fantastic cook who limits herself only to making breakfasts. After John and I had made ourselves presentable and staggered downstairs to the smells of a Tina breakfast already underway. Conversation was stilted with Keith until Tina finally sat down with us and announced, “Okay, Keith, I bet you’re wondering why I brought you all the way up here to meet my friends.” He nodded, chewing a forkful of eggs. “I’m going to fuck John while my best friend watches. I brought you along so she’ll have someone to fuck too.” Keith, much to his credit, maintained his composure, his fork in midair. Most men would have laughed it off as a joke from an excitable free spirit, but the conviction of Tina’s words convinced him she was serious. “You’re not kidding, are you?” he asked her, his voice sounding somewhere between a man who’s been locked in the ward with the lunatic patients and the lucky devil who just hit a jackpot on a whim bet. “Nope!” beamed Tina. “Except the part about me,” I said. “That was never really discussed in the original deal.” He looked crestfallen at this statement, and my heart went out to him. “But we can still negotiate,” I added. This changed his demeanor back. Keith glanced over at John. “You have an understanding wife.” John smiled. “You don’t know the half of it,” he said. “Are all of your friends like this?” he asked Tina. Tina blushed. “No, but these two are the best and I have to share them. It would be impolite not to.” The next few hours we discussed the particulars of our joint venture. It was odd, talking about sex usually got me going, but this time it seemed, a bit routine, almost dull. I was sensing the need to spice things up. Only a direct, bold questions could solve this problem. “But never mind all that, Keith,” I said to him. “What’s your kink?” “What?” “Well, John and Tina are going to be fucking their brains out. I set them up and you’re along for the ride. What fantasy do you want fulfilled today?” Tina fixed him with a steady stare. “Well, Keith?” she asked. “What is your fantasy?” He looked down at the table and mumbled. “I want a blowjob, but I want you to put your finger up my ass at the same time.” I repressed an urge to giggle. “I think I can do that.” A little while later Tina and John went to our bedroom while Keith and I went to the guest room. We had decided to try couples alone first, then maybe a group session. I ordered Keith to take off his clothes—he seemed the sort who needed his partner to take charge—and as he did I got down to my modest bra and panties. His cock was a nice size, not huge and not tiny. Average but still handsome. Without even touching him he was already erect. “This will probably be easier if you lay down on the bed and spread your legs,” I told him uncapping the tube of KY jelly. I’m not squeamish about the human body as you might have surmised and, in fact, I have given a finger up the ass blowjob before to one of my other lovers, so this was nothing new to me. I couldn’t tell if it was new for Keith or if he was just embarrassed by his fantasy. I didn’t care. I got between his legs, shoved a pillow under his lower back, squirted a good dollop of KY on my fingers and smeared it across his anus. I then wrapped my other hand around his cock and told him, “I’ll ease my finger in when I start sucking you. Tell me when you’re going to cum.” I then wrapped my lips around his rigid cock. His eyes rolled up into his head. I was certain I had already sent him to heaven. “You’ve done this before,” he gasped. “Mm-hmm,” I managed to vocalize around his cock. “I was afraid to ask Tina,” he said. And those were the last of his words as he gave way to groans. An interesting fact to note for the future. Getting past the opening to the anus was the most difficult part of this type of blowjob, I had discovered long ago. KY helps, but a little determination is also good; if there was a little pain, I’m sure Keith enjoyed that as well. I worked my lips and tongue up and down his shaft as I eased my finger it. After a minute or two, I slipped it in to the second knuckle and proceeded to curl it back and forth ever so slightly, massaging his prostate. That was all it took for him and Keith exploded inside my mouth. I tried my best but I could swallow all of his copious fluid and some leaked out of my lips and fell on his cock, pubes and belly. We rested a moment and I slipped my finger out of his ass. A moment in the bathroom and I was cleaned up. Keith was still flat on his back, but his eyes were shining with lust. “Actually, that was only half my fantasy,” he revealed. “What I really want is to be fucked in the ass by a woman wearing a strap on.” I don’t own a strap on cock, but I did have a selection of vibrators, the single (and married) girl’s best friend. “Wait here,” I told him. “Don’t move.” A quick dash into my bedroom where John and Tina were half undressed—John with his pants off and cock in Tina’s mouth, she wearing her bra and panties, but his hand between her legs—to my dresser where my old reliables were kept. “Don’t mind me,” I said as they paused in their lovemaking to stare at my bouncing tits as I made my sudden appearance and quick retreat. “Get on your knees,” I told Keith when I got back. “You’re about to get a treat.” He was so passive, so submissive that I got the impression Keith would do anything that I ordered. In a moment he was no his hands and knees with his ass in the air. I dollop of KY on his ass and a bit more spread across the head of one of my old vibrators and we were ready. “This isn’t the same as a strap on,” I told him, “but it’ll have to do for now. I’m sure if you ask nicely, Tina will be more than happy to accommodate you.” He just nodded in acquiescence. Pushing the vibrator into his ass was easy, he groaned when it slid in and almost instantly had a hard on. He gasped when I turned it on. “You like that?” I asked him. “Uh huh,” he nodded. I reached down around his hips and grasped his cock. With a little KY I started working it hard and fast. Keith could do little more than writhe and gasp as I held the vibrator in his ass with one hand and jerked him off with the other. He didn’t last long. With a ragged cry his cock shook and he shot his cum all over the sheets. I let him suffer in pleasure for another minute with the vibrator, then pulled it out. He collapsed to the bed. “That was wonderful,” he told me when he had recovered. “You’re not done yet,” I told him and shucked off my panties. “My turn.” I got on the bed and spread my legs beneath his face. He dove right into my golden fleeced pussy and started licking away. He was good, not as good as John or some other men I’ve had, but he was still very good. Up and down my slit, tickling my clit with the tip of his tongue, then down and around my anus, something I had never had done before. It was deliciously wicked and wonderful. He made me cum the first time by sucking on my clit while somehow managing to rub his tongue on it as the same time. I gushed out at his treatment. “My tongue and jaw is tired,” he said after he had finished me off. “I’ll give you a few minutes to rest,” I told him. “Then it’s back to business.” He was just as inventive and enthusiastic the second time. This time he found the KY jelly and dabbed it on my anus. I knew what was coming. He slipped in a finger while working his tongue plunged into my wet hole like a writhing penis. He asked me if he could fuck my ass, but I declined because that was something I never did. I made him stay down between my legs for what seemed like hours, lapping away at me, making me feel like a well-heeled queen, until Tina and John came into the guest room investigating our absence. They were both naked and flushed with excitement.. I was flat on my back, knees up and spread, with Keith’s face still working away at my wet and sore pussy. I had lost count of my orgasms, but I didn’t care. Who would? “This is divine,” I groaned to Tina. “Have you had him do this all day to you?” She admitted that she had and was glad I had discovered Keith’s talent. He wasn’t the best, but he could go on for hours. We never had a group session that day, both Tina and I had sore, but satisfied, pussies and Keith and John were empty. I later discovered she had sucked him off twice and only let him fuck her pussy once. Tart Ch. 04 It was a nice weekend, but we were happy to get back to a regular, mundane routine of plain vanilla sex again for a few weeks. Tina called to tell me she bought a strap-on dildo and had used it a couple of times to peg Keith. He loved it. I knew he would, he was the type of man who needed a woman to take charge of him. I was glad I made her buy it. A break from paradise or purgatory can’t last forever. A few weeks later, Margeaux reappeared one afternoon after work. We were sitting down to dinner and she breezed into our house, smiling and twirling. “Care to join us?” John invited her. She was acting stranger than normal, no mean feat for this girl. “No, no,” she said sitting down and helping herself to some salad. “I can only stay a minute or two.” “Why so?” I asked. “Big news,” she announced. “I’m pregnant.” My eyes bulged and John was strangely quiet. He stopped eating mid-chew. “Brian’s the father,” she hastily added. “How do you know? I asked, wanting to keep the conversation going, not have it end like time was frozen. “I peed on a stick of course,” she laughed. “But that’s not what you meant, is it? Except for John, he’s the only guy I’ve been fucking and the timing is all wrong for John to be the daddy.” “How does Brian feel about this?” John managed to choke out. “He’s thrilled!” she blurted. “We’re going to be getting married soon, just a quickie ceremony, but you two will be invited. I just wanted the two of you to know.” She hopped up from the table, gave both of us quick pecks on the cheeks and was out the door, but not before she added, “I hear the second trimester of pregnancy is the horniest one, so I’ll be stopping by on a regular basis then!” “Is she serious?” John asked. I nodded. “Yeah, the hormones rage and women get real horny.” “I don’t know if I could have sex with a pregnant woman,” he said. I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sure you could. You’re a man, you’ll fuck just about anything.” “I wonder if I’m the father,” he pondered out loud. “What if you are?” He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. If they do get married, whoever is the husband at the time of birth, is legally the father.” “DNA,” I said. “Law might be one thing, but fact is another.” We tried to go back to our dinner, but the phone rang. I answered it. “It’s Holly,” the voice came from the other end. “Would you be interested in having sex with Tom and me? Your husband can watch.” “Uh,” was the best response I could manage. “Actually,” she went on without any real pause, “you can participate, but I’ve finally convinced Tom we need to branch out a bit. I like women and all, but he needs to let me get what I want or we’ll never get married. And what I want is two men at the same time. I figured you and John would be open to that.” It all came out in a blur, I think she was a little drunk. To be honest, I was torn between the two basic options Holly was offering. On the one hand, I’d recently had more crazy sex in the past few months than I had in my entire life. That’s saying something, even if I’m not up to porn star standards of deviant and varied sex. What Holly wanted from me is to have John fuck her along with Tom while I got to watch. I’m open minded. I like porn. Maybe I’ll like live porn. I’ve watched John fuck another woman already. I’ve fucked another woman. I liked both. Why was Holly asking me to offer up my husband so that she could get her jollies? What about my needs. That got me to thinking. What are my needs, other than to please my husband and sit back and relax while I had as many orgasms as possible? After long and careful deliberation, I called Holly back and we arranged a date. Just the two of us, I needed to feel her out first. Coffee. The great equalizer of social occasions. It promises nothing, it can go nowhere or it can lead to more without any consequences. I should have expected something else. Holly was wearing a tight t-shirt, no bra, nipples poking through the material making tiny bumps, jeans highlighting her ass and legs. It was enough to make any teenage boy fulfill his fantasy about the sexy next door neighbor. Being neither a teenage boy nor a true blue lesbian, I was slightly disturbed to realize there was a steady moistening between my legs. I of course had dressed for the occasion in an oversized sweatshirt, matching gray sweatpants roomy enough for another of me and my oldest, grungiest sneakers. We were some bizarre pair of would be lovers. “I know what you’re wondering,” she said to me. “How in the world did I convince Tom to let another man fuck me?” Actually, it wasn’t what I was wondering, but okay, it’s an interesting way to open a conversation. “It was easy. I thought a lot about what you said when we talked a while back. You know, when you wanted me to fuck John.” How could I forget? “Anyway, I realized that since Tom, I hadn’t had one other man besides him. Before we started getting serious I could have a different man every other week.” She paused and drifted off a moment. “Mmm. Those were the days. Half the fun was juggling one guy against the next. So I thought and thought about it, and realized that I needed another cock besides Tom’s. I mean, my vibrator is great and all, but variety is the spice of life and Tom was slowly, blandly making my life go away.” On that I could agree. I loved John, but I still needed other cocks in my life. And in my pussy. I nodded eagerly. “It makes perfect sense. What woman wants to be stuck fucking the same man the rest of her life.” Holly seemed a bit surprised by my answer. Then nodded and ran her hand down her arm. It was warm in her kitchen, but a chill had passed over her. I could see the raised goose pimples on her arm. Her lips parted and her breathing slowed. “Yeah. I started fantasizing that other men were fucking me when Tom and I were having sex. I hadn’t told him yet what I decided so it was kind of foolish for me to start calling out other men’s name when it was Tom’s cock in my pussy.” ‘That would be a bad thing.” “Anyway, he got pissed I was calling out John’s name. We had a fight and I told him what I wanted. I get to have other men or he doesn’t get to have me at all. You can imagine my shock at his reaction.” “What was that?” “I must have hit the right tone because he nearly started crying when I threatened to kick him out.” “Really?” “He agreed to let me fuck whoever I wanted whenever I wanted. He practically begged to watch so he wouldn’t be left out.” She smiled. “That I agreed to. I can’t wait for you to bring over John so I can have the both of them at once.” She leaned in suddenly and kissed me. I tasted coffee on the lips; my own was still untouched. “I also realized that I haven’t had sex with a woman when Tom wasn’t there. I want you to be my first.” I didn’t kiss her back. I liked playing the passive femme. Holly moved on to my neck, burying her face in my blonde hair, then nibbling, then biting my neck. “Ow!” I exclaimed, surprised at her aggression. “Just a taste,” she said, then started sucking away. I love to be sucked. My breasts and nipples, my fingers, my neck. I knew she was giving me a hickey and I didn’t care. It felt good to have another woman’s lips on me when someone else wasn’t watching me. I could be intimate with someone else again and not be on display for all the world to enjoy as a toy. I pulled her away from my neck and kissed her hard, forcing my tongue into her mouth. “Let’s make love,” I said to her. There was a surprised look on her face, maybe it was the ferocity of my response, but she was willing to go along. We were pulling off each other clothes and kissing fiercely as she pulled me through her house to the bedroom. We were down to just panties by the time we collapsed on the unmade bed. It reeked slightly of sex from her and Tom the night before. She wore plain white panties cut high on the hip, exposing her muscular legs. Her breasts were beautiful and yielding, topped with light brown nipples that felt like pebbles beneath my fingertips. She kissed her way down to my tits, sucked and briefly toyed with them, then spun herself around presenting her panty-clad crotch to my face. I smelled her wetness and kissed the elastic waistband. We were both lying on our sides and I knew we were about to perform a classic lesbian 69 on each other. Holly’s fingers slipped inside my own modest panties and skimmed them over my hips and down my legs. I eagerly opened my thighs to her inquisitive little tongue. She kissed me over my well-trimmed pubic triangle and then happily worked her way down to my glistening lips. It was everything I dreamed of when she kissed my cunt. “I can’t do this solo,” she said to me between licks. It took me a moment to realize that a true 69 involves simultaneous involvement of both parties. I wasn’t as shy with her now as I was all those months ago when she first propositioned me. I hooked my thumbs into her panty waistband and pulled down. I was eager to see how Holly maintained her pubic curls. I got the shot of my life. I’ve seen bald pussies before. I’ve even shaved my own once at the request of John, but the itching when it grew back was too much to bear. I’ve stayed at a classic triangle ever since. Holly had soft, pale skin offset by her black hair. She had scalped herself except for the thinnest line of hair crawling up her tummy from her clit. That wasn’t the surprising part. That was the silver ring piercing her clit hood. When her secret was revealed to me, I even stopped pulling down her white panties. I was shocked, confused and aroused. “Does it hurt?” I asked, immediately thinking it was a stupid question. Holly stopped licking my now unresponsive pussy to answer. “Of course not. I mean, it did a little when I got it done, I spent the weekend with a bag of ice on my cunt, but now, ohhh,” she moaned, “it makes sex so much better.” “Why?” “That little ring keeps my clit stimulated all day and when Tom’s tongue finds it at night, I’m ready to explode again and again. I never had multiple orgasms until he made me get pieced. I thank him for it every night.” Sometimes I think I’m the only woman in the world who can have multiple orgasms without artificial aids. I reached out and touched the warm metal. Holly wiggle her hips a little as I did. “Don’t stop now,” she whispered and put her face back into my pussy. The metal slid easily through her flesh and she shivered each time I moved it. Emboldened, I pushed her underwear all the way off and starting a serious round of cunnilingus of my first pierced cunt. It was odd that my lips and tongue kept finding the metal, but I soon began to enjoy both the unique flavor of her cunt and Holly’s uniquely talented tongue in my own. She drenched my face with her juices three times before we were finished. After my own last orgasm had faded away we wrapped our arms around each other and fell asleep in the bed. When our nap was over, we made promises to each other to bring our respective mates together for a group session of sex. I went home thinking about the possibility of getting my own poor overworked pussy adorned with a metal decoration. I didn’t get a piercing, of course, I’m just not that adventurous a girl. After telling John about Holly’s little secret and our big plans, he was torn between taking me down to Lark Street for an erotic piercing and running over to their place that night. The plan was for the weekend, of course, and he knew that it took more than just a few days for a pierced pussy to heal. When we did go over to Tom and Holly’s, dinner was little more than pretense. She was already fired up and had thrown back many glasses of wine before we had finished eating. Deciding we should already be done, she stood up and announced it was time to start fucking. She reached behind her neck, untied her halter top dress, and dropped it to the floor. Underneath she wore only a tiny black g-string. There was little else to say after that. She turned and went to the bedroom. The boys eagerly followed her bouncing ass. I wandered behind, wondering what kind of action I would get. When I finally got into the bedroom, John had already pulled off her g-string and had pushed her down on the bed. His face was buried in her pussy where he was enjoying the same tasty cunt I had already sampled days before. Tom had pulled off his pants and his cock was in Holly’s mouth. We had already agreed that Holly would get the boys first, and I would be relegated to leftovers. That was fine by me. I curled myself into the corner chair, pulled up my skirt and pulled down my lacy underwear. My fingers tickled across my moist lips. Watching the three of them was almost like watching a ballet of intricate movement. Lips, tongues, cocks, cunt, asses, nipples, arms, legs, elbows, fingers, wrists; there were almost too many body parts to keep track of. Eventually the men shed all of their clothing and John wound up on his back with Holly straddling him. She eased her pussy down on his cock and sighed in contentment, her arms pressed against her breasts, fingers cradling her face in ecstasy. Tom moved behind her and pushed her forward, down against John’s chest. He slapped a generous handful of lubricant against her ass and exposed pussy. At first I thought it was for the couples enjoyment, but then, as Tom carefully placed his legs among the already tangled grouping of limbs, his intent became clear. “Is this what you really want?” he asked Holly, his cock head against the tightness of her anus. She only nodded, looking over her shoulder at him. With firm delicacy he easy himself into her asshole. I gasped with amazement as the trio moved together, grunting and groaning. John was the first to go, filling Holly’s pussy with his seed. This seemed to charge up Tom who emptied the content of his big cock into her poor ass. I wasn’t sure when Holly’s orgasm started or ended, if it was multiple or just extremely protracted, but her cries and gasps gave proof that it was all for her benefit. When they were done and had rested, they turned to me and asked what I wanted. Laughing, delirious at what I had just witnessed, I foolishly said, “I want all three of you at the same time since Holly had both boys together.” It was probably a combination of the wine and sexual high because I don’t know why I would have said something like that. I’m not against anal sex; I just never considered it something I wanted. I’ve had my ass played with on more than one occasion, and the rare finger up there can be quite nice in conjunction with other stimulation. But I’ve never had anal sex as a main feature before. I was quickly pulled from my chair, stripped naked and thrown on the bed. There was no real plan, but I found myself presented with Holly’s denuded and ornamented cunt, so I dove in. Lube was slathered across my cunt and ass. I was twisted on my side and Tom’s big cock found it’s way into my box. I was thoroughly enjoying myself until I realized that John had nowhere to go but my ass. I could have used my hand on him, sure, but that didn’t really seem fair. I found myself looking over my shoulder, much like Holly had, as John pressed his cock against my asshole. I could have said no. I didn’t. He pressed in and filled me up. Having two cocks in you, one in the cunt, one in the ass, can only be described as the afterwards of a Thanksgiving dinner. You’re completely full, you can’t move, you’re satisfied but you still foolishly want more. The more arrived when Tom and John had their orgasms and finished me off. That’s how I lost the virginity of my ass. The next day, in bed with John, nursing my sore ass and cunt, he confronted me with a question that was perfectly logical. It’s just that most men don’t question a steady supply of kinky sex. “Why are you going out of your way to get me all these new women?” I’d been waiting for this question for a while, so I had practiced my answer. “Guilt, because I’ve been fucking different men for such a long time. And I wanted you to be happy.” I paused, unable to voice the real answer. I swallowed my fear and opened my mouth. “Because I don’t want you to leave me for fucking other men. I’m so happy to be married to you, I couldn’t stand it if things changed.” “If we weren’t married,” he asked me, “would that change anything?” “I don’t know,” I managed to stutter. “Why?” “Maybe without a ring, maybe knowing you’re not my wife, might make you more secure.” “What? That makes no sense.” “You like fucking around, but feel guilty about it. I like your fucking around; I like knowing other men desire you. If we weren’t married, you couldn’t leave me. No matter who you fucked or what you did, you couldn’t leave me.” I was truly puzzled. “Do you want to get divorced?” I asked him. He smiled at me. “You wouldn’t divorce me,” he said with a kiss. “You wouldn’t be able to find a better, more understanding husband. You can fuck whoever you want. You’ll be my tart. You’ll be my wife. The illicit sex is better than having serial boyfriends. Getting sex outside of marriage, it‘s more exciting. The thrill wouldn’t be there if we weren‘t married.” It was strangely true. Being married made sex outside those vows better. The sex within the bonds was fantastic too, but combined, John was right, I’d never leave him. It would make life dull if I did.