7 comments/ 38170 views/ 2 favorites You Never Know Ch. 01 By: Elf_Goldberg For as long as I can remember I've had the fantasy of having two women at the same time. Of course I guess every guy has that particular fantasy. Don't get me wrong, I'm a happily married man and have been for twelve years. Even as a teenager when I probably had the opportunity to experience this particular fantasy I had never actively pursued it. Like most teenage males the sexual opportunities which had been presented to me often went unnoticed until well into adulthood. Recently though I took advantage of an opportunity which normally would have passed me by. It was a Friday night and my wife had invited one of her friends over for dinner. Gail, my wife, loves company and has several good friends who often come to dinner or to watch a movie or just for an evening of conversation. This particular friend, Yvonne, had gone to college with my wife and I and they had always stayed pretty close. In college Yvonne was pretty much stuck in the 60's keeping her hair very long, almost to her calves, and going around campus barefoot and in long flowered dresses. Since graduation she maintained a much more conservative appearance, but still clung to those 60's attitudes. She had gone into software engineering so we always had something to talk about; I was a software engineer as well. Anyway, that particular Friday night Gail, Yvonne and I sat around the kitchen table after a nice dinner of fajitas and salad and heavily sampled a new recipe for margaritas I had found on the net. We were well into our second large pitcher and some enjoyable conversation when Gail suggested that I should make a third. I did just that while she and Yvonne moved their conversation into the living room. Gail and I had always had a great sex life together and as for getting what I wanted she always came through. We had never even discussed adding another person to our love making, but looking back there were probably many hints where that conversation could easily have been held. One thing that comes to mind is that she always got extremely turned on by reading the stories in Penthouse Forum. I never missed picking up the new copy anytime one came out. What still amazes me to this day is that I can hand her a copy of the magazine while we're lying in bed -- she obviously knows that I want her to read the stories and get herself super horny -- and she doesn't get upset, she just smiles and starts reading. What other woman would do that? But, back to Friday. I mixed up a third pitcher of margaritas, and with it and the one I was nursing headed to the living room to refill the girls glasses. They were sitting together on the couch talking, laughing, and generally having a good time so I poured them each another drink and plopped down next to Yvonne. I'm not exactly sure why, maybe the Tequila or maybe just the mood of the evening, but I was feeling very horny that night and something just told me it was time to maybe switch the conversation to sex. I really wasn't thinking of Yvonne or of realizing a fantasy, actually, I was thinking of sending her home so I could go ravage my wife. I sat listening and waited for an opportunity. Since the girls conversation had already turned to a giggling version Yvonne's lack of a love life it didn't take long. "You don't know what it's like being single." She said. "You have John so you never have to do without for months at a time." "Months?" Gail replied. "If we go for two nights in a row without sex I wonder if he has a girlfriend on the side." "Now you're just bragging." Yvonne said. The smile never left her face, but the good natured sigh that followed though seemed to convey that there was a bit of jealousy there as well. Yvonne turned to me. "Every night, eh? Are you sure you don't have a brother?" "No brothers," I said "but if things get really tough maybe you can work out a deal with Gail or something." I wasn't trying to get anything going, just being my normal sarcastic self. I'm a smart-ass by nature. "What do you say, Gail? Can I book him for next weekend?" "Well, I have him booked solid for next weekend, but I think he can probably do tonight." Several things happened in the next few seconds. First, I laughed a little nervously because I thought that Gail was returning my sarcasm --she's good at that. Second, what she said kind of sunk in a bit and my dick was instantly hard as a rock and straining against my zipper. Third, I'm not positive, but I think my face turned the same shade of red as our kitchen table cloth and for the life of me I couldn't think of a snappy comeback. Gail was looking at me and from experience I knew that she was aware of exactly how horny she had just made me. "C'mon Yvonne" she said, never looking away from me. "It will be fun and I'll even help." With this she reached up and put her hand on Yvonne's stomach and moving upward cupped her breast in her hand. Her other hand she placed on Yvonne's shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. My mind was racing, my heart was pounding and my dick was straining to get out of my pants. As awkward as it was I had to reach down and adjust it before I died. Now Yvonne as well as Gail knew exactly how horny I was. I'm not sure if it was Gail's boldness and touch, or the sight of the huge bulge in my pants that put her over the edge, but without saying anything Yvonne leaned over and kissed Gail while reaching back and rubbing her hand firmly over my dick. It only took me a few seconds to realize that this fantasy was actually going to come true. I had to find a way to calm down a little so I wouldn't blow this chance and shoot my load all over myself. Somewhat regaining my composure I reached around and grabbed Yvonne's tit with one hand and started massaging Gail's side with the other. I was awkward and fumbling and trying desperately not to fuck up this chance. Luckily Gail came to my rescue. Gail broke off her kiss with Yvonne and gently pushed her back on the couch. "Just relax." she said. "Let us make you feel good." She adjusted herself toward Yvonne who was leaning back on the couch now, her head back and eyes closed, and started unbuttoning her blouse. Yvonne gave no sign of resistance and I just watched as her breasts were exposed. She wasn't wearing a bra -- she never did -- and her large nipples were getting very hard. When her blouse was completely unbuttoned and thrown back Gail bent down and started nibbling on one of Yvonne's nipples. Yvonne's breasts, while not really large, were much bigger than Gail's. Judging from the reactions of both women this was really turning them on. I started rubbing Gail's back, I think trying to let her know that I was okay with this, but I'm sure she knew that from how horny I was. She let me rub her back for just a bit then took my hand and placed it on Yvonne's other breast. I may be slow, but that was hint enough. I followed her lead and started nibbling on her nipple and rubbing her thigh feeling the warmth the closer my hand got to her cunt. Gail again took the lead slipping out of the sweater and shorts she was wearing and reaching to remove Yvonne's pants as well. Yvonne stood to slide the pants off, again kissed Gail who reached over to start removing my pants. While she was fumbling with my belt I quickly removed my shirt and then finished where she left off finally freeing the hard on I had been dealing with for far too long. Yvonne sat back down on the couch and Gail sat back down beside her. Not quite knowing what to do I again sat on the other side of Yvonne. Gail leaned over and began kissing Yvonne and at the same time took my hand and moved it to her thigh. As Yvonne spread her legs I began rubbing her clit and running my hand over the lips of her pussy. She was incredibly wet, and arched her hips to meet my hand. I slid first two and then four fingers as deeply into her pussy as I could get and began exploring the inside. She arched and opened to my every move. Exactly as Gail does Yvonne loves to have her cunt completely filled and explored. As Yvonne began softly moaning Gail moved down to join me in enjoying Yvonne's cunt. I felt the fingers of her small hand start to work their way into joining mine inside Yvonne while her other hand reached to start stroking my dick. I pulled my fingers most of the way out to allow her access and we started sliding our fingers into and out of Yvonne's cunt together. I think that was probably the most erotic thing I have ever felt. With a smile on her face she reached over with her other hand to begin stroking my swollen dick. Yvonne started to hump more firmly and relax her cunt more so that Gail and I could both get four fingers completely into her. She moaned loudly and looked down at both of us exploring her cunt and Gail stroking my hard on. I guess the scene put her over the edge and she shook with a massive orgasm; her body jerking and her cunt contracting hard. We allowed her a minute to recover herself. As she did, and looked up smiling Gail took her hand and mine and led the way to the bedroom. * * * You Never Know Ch. 01 All characters in this story are over the age of 18. I never thought I would fall for someone else's boyfriend. But that was before I met S. I'd known him about a year and a half and was attracted to him from the moment we met. He had a serious girlfriend – and made that clear – from the very start. That didn't deter me, though. I couldn't help myself. S. was one of the most physically beautiful men I'd ever seen in my life. He wasn't more than a few inches taller than me, but he made up for that in musculature. He was fit and hard in all the right places, and had a light green gaze that could stop a woman in her tracks. His curly, dark blonde hair was just begging for my fingers to run through it. I had to restrain myself every time I was close enough to touch him. He was a good ten years my senior, but he didn't look a day over 27. He was irresistible. S. seemed to mention his girlfriend almost every other sentence, and it was clear in his expression and his voice that he cared deeply about her. But as we started to hang out together and talk one-on-one, I couldn't help feeling that at least some of the chemistry between us was mutual. Occasionally he would say something, just out of the blue, that would make me hesitate to answer...something that sounded distinctly like flirting. I would smile, and nod, and think unconscionably dirty things about him while staring him straight in the face. Still, I was never sure that he was really flirting. Maybe he was just being friendly, and feeling more comfortable around me as we got to know each other better. Maybe he was just a natural flirt. Some guys are like that. So I never flirted back too hard or made a move on him, in case I was wrong. I waited patiently, part of me wishing he would break up with his girlfriend and part of me feeling like a bitch for hoping that. It didn't help that I had never met his girlfriend. Without really knowing her, I could pretend that she was a selfish whore who didn't deserve S. I could hate her. Every time I saw S., all I wanted to do was grab him and shove my tongue down his throat. You could tell the sex would be good just by looking at him. I didn't really want to take on all the stress and emotional turbulence of a real relationship with S. I just felt like he was something I needed to get out of my system. If I could only kiss him, I told myself, just once, all of the sexual tension I felt around him would be relieved, and I'd be able to move on. Unfortunately, this also led to a certain amount of awkwardness around him that I couldn't explain. I'd trip over nothing and stumble over my words, get distracted while we were talking and feel embarrassed that I kept staring at his lips, his chest, or worst of all, his crotch. It seemed like he didn't notice, though, miraculously, and I wondered sometimes whether he knew how I felt about him. Or, more accurately, what I felt about him: wet, hot, and extremely sexually deprived. When I heard that S. was engaged, my heart sank. I had dreaded this day. And when the invitation arrived in the mail, I almost checked 'regretfully declines.' But I knew S. wouldn't understand why I said no and would be hurt. I mailed my RSVP back and immediately began the difficult process of steeling myself not to stand up at his wedding and object. I found that I suddenly had no appetite and only wanted to sleep all day. My performance at work, a small publishing company, started deteriorating too, as I was so distracted I had trouble finishing projects on time. Slowly I realized that I didn't just want to have sex with S. I wanted to be with him. I loved him. "This...could be problematic," I thought to myself. S. invited me to come watch him drum in his jazz band in Harlem one Sunday night about a month before the wedding. He made a living off the generous tips he got, while his girlfriend was some kind of executive at a big company. I knew it was a bad idea; that any interaction with him could only make me fall deeper in love with him, but my resistance broke down quickly as I imagined how sexy he would look behind a set of drums. I dragged my roommate, J., along for a buffer, to make sure I didn't get plastered and throw myself at S. We found the little hole-in-the-wall along one of the side streets and walked in to meet S. in the hallway. He looked good enough to eat, as usual, and my mouth literally watered as I smiled at him. He led us inside to a table right up front, "so I can sit with you guys on my breaks," he explained. I glanced around but didn't see his girlfriend – or...fiancée – anywhere, and breathed a sigh of relief. I was dreading officially meeting her for the first time. We sat and ordered drinks, and chatted with S. about books and music until it was time for him to play. Just seeing him sitting behind those drums, you could tell he belonged there. He felt at home there. Jazz wasn't something I listened to often, but the musicians were vibing off of each other so well and the energy of the place was infectious. Before long, our feet were tapping and our heads were bobbing to the beat. Watching S. play was like watching an artist at work. He knew instinctively when and where to hit the drums, and would even close his eyes in deep concentration now and then. I limited myself to one drink and took some pictures of him playing, making sure to snap photos of the other musicians from time to time so he wasn't constantly seeing the flash. I took some video too, thinking about how I could watch it later in the privacy of my own room. S. took a break midway through and sat with us again. J. conveniently excused herself to use the restroom, and though we were surrounded by many others, it felt like S. and I were alone. He leaned in close so I could hear him over the chatter and the background music and told me how he had stalked my Facebook, looking at the music I liked. Our tastes were very compatible. My heart leapt and I thought, if only he knew how many times I had clicked on his profile just to browse through his pictures for the umpteenth time. We continued to talk about music, exchanging suggestions until my roommate returned. She arched an eyebrow at me and I smiled. She knew how I felt about S. I lifted my camera to take a picture of her and I and she coyly suggested she take one of S. and me as well. I gulped, and scooted my chair closer to him. He languidly draped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me in. I stopped breathing. I'm sure my smile looked uncomfortable and nervous, and I'm also sure he just looked perfect without even trying. At the end of the night, J. and I were preparing ourselves to catch the train back to our apartment building when S. cut in and offered us a ride home. It was on his way. We, of course, accepted. I immediately wondered if I could somehow snag the front seat (without obnoxiously calling out "Shotgun!" on the way to the car). The gods were on my side that night, because his backseat was too crowded with junk for more than one person. J. graciously took that seat and let me have the front. I allowed my dress to hike up a little as I stepped into the car in a hopeless attempt to attract S.'s gaze. As we traveled along, I couldn't help but notice, once again, how fiercely masculine S. was. He drove like a man – one hand on the wheel, toothpick set in his teeth, speeding along the highway. No matter how recklessly he drove I felt safe with him. I almost forgot about my roommate, quiet in the backseat, and watched S. out of the corner of my eye. I longed to reach over and put my hand on his upper thigh, just to feel the hot muscle there. We pulled into the parking lot and J. quickly thanked him for the lift and hopped out of the car. I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to smile at S. His mouth stretched into a lazy grin and he leaned in for a hug. I held on for a beat longer than I should have, and as I released him, I couldn't help but brush my lips against his cheek. I heard him sigh, and he lifted his hands to cup my face and kissed me softly. My heart stopped and he pulled back. "I'm sorry," he croaked. "I didn't mean to – " I shook my head and cut off his words by grabbing his thigh like I'd wanted to and recapturing his mouth with mine. I could almost see the electricity crackling between us. He kissed me back initially, but when I tried to put my tongue in his mouth, he broke our embrace. "We can't," he said brokenly, his eyes looking a little wild, like he couldn't comprehend what had just happened. I exhaled. "I know," I muttered, barely able to look him in the eye. "Thanks...for the ride." I stumbled out of the car, slammed the door behind me, and blew past J. where she was waiting for me by the entrance. "Um, what just happened?" she asked, catching up with me on the way to the elevator. I spun around. "S. kissed me," I said wildly. She gasped. "And I started to kiss him back but then he stopped it and I don't know what to do and oh, my God, I just kissed S." I pounded my finger at the UP button. J. dashed back to the entrance and peeked out. She rejoined me a second later as the elevator doors opened. "He's still sitting there in his car," she told me. I buried my face in my hands, remembering the way S.'s lips had felt pressed against my own, and whispered, "Oh, my God." I sat in our kitchen and watched his car idling in the parking lot for twenty minutes until he finally left. It was a long time before I heard from him again. S. asked me to get coffee with him the day before the wedding. I almost said no, but the man was irresistible. You couldn't say no to him. I rushed after work to meet him at a quiet café on the Lower East Side. It was obvious what he wanted to discuss. Before we had even sat down, he said, "Listen, do you mind if I just...say something, before you do?" I nodded. It was strange to see him again after what had happened between us. He looked different – still gorgeous as ever, just changed somehow. We sat and he continued, "I'm attracted to you. And maybe in another life, we could be together. But in this one, I have a fiancée, whom I love, and I'm marrying her tomorrow. It can't happen again." I blinked back some unexpected tears and tried to disguise them by taking a sip of my coffee. I hadn't really expected him to throw away his life with his fiancée for me...but I couldn't deny that my brain had a mind of its own, so to speak, and I had entertained daydreams in which S. broke off the wedding and ran away with me. "Can I still come to the wedding?" I asked softly. S. smiled and grabbed my hand. "Of course you can," he said. "I want you to be there." "I'm really happy for you..." I whispered, but I couldn't look him in the eye. I was lying through my teeth. I wanted S. for myself and I was upset that he belonged to another woman when the two of us seemed to mesh so well. We stayed until we had both finished our coffees, but we couldn't get the conversation started like we used to and I felt relieved to go. He pressed a hand to my shoulder as I left and said, "See you tomorrow." I dreaded the wedding.