Opening Lines

Her cunt was already full of two loads of hot, wet cum, and the feeling was unbelievable. I fucked my wife with a passion I had never felt before. I'd been on the verge of coming in my pants for what seemed like hours as I had watched them, and in moments, a blast of my own cum was mixing with Greg's inside my wife.

She couldn't have felt much, I'm sure, because it was over so quick and she was already so wet and full of Greg. Nevertheless, she hugged me tight as I shuddered through my own long-overdue climax. As I returned to my senses, she took my face in her hands and kissed me all over it, almost frantically, saying: "oh, darling, I love you so much, I love you, oh, darling, please, tell me you still love me." I stopped her, took her face in my hands, and said: "Amy, I love you . . . I do, and I always will. I love you more than you can know right now. You're so beautiful, so...." She stopped me this time, and whispered: "Thank you, darling, oh, thank you. I love you so much", and rolled me over onto my back. She said to Greg: "Please get me a warm, wet towel from the bathroom." He quickly did, and Amy slipped down lower toward my waist to wash off my still semi-erect cock. Before using the towel, however, she bent her head and licked my softening cock until it was clean. So erotically lewd but loving! "I wanted something from all three of us to remember this night by", she said. Then, she washed me gently and thoroughly with the towel. When she finished, she winked at me and said: "I hope both of you've got more where that came from, because I'm not even close to being finished with either of you . . . but now, Greg, let's take a bath so I can get cleaned up . . . and Tim, would you order us something light from room service?"

They headed to the bathroom, which had a big Roman Jacuzzi with a sitting area all around it. I did as I was asked, ordering a bowl of fruit with yogurt and whipped cream. At that time of night, it didn't take room service very long, and I kept the door to the bedroom closed until the waiter left. Amy and Greg were in there at least 20 minutes. I could hear the sound of the Jacuzzi and a little splashing every now and then, but not much else. Though it didn't bother me that they were in there alone like that, I wondered what was taking them so long.

Despite our newly open discussions about sex, Amy still hasn't told me yet exactly what they did to get her "cleaned up". So far, no doubt just to tease me, all she's said is: "So you're not the only guy around who loves to eat a wet pussy," and "Does every man get hard that quick when you play with his ass?" and "I had no idea those water jets could feel so good in so many places". Those comments leave something to the imagination, of course. Could it be that my wife has a little more of a kinky streak in her than she's admitted so far? Actually, I kinda hope so.

Any way, after their bath, we all took a short break. The fruit gave us some much-needed energy, and I couldn't believe Amy - - my formerly shy, self-conscious wife - - did with the whipped cream. Sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs spread just a little, she dipped her finger into the bowl and got a big scoop of it, traced a creamy line from the inside of her knee up to the edge of her sex, and then asked Greg if he'd like to try a little "Amy a la mode". In an instant, he was on his knees between her legs, spreading them wider and licking up every inch of that line of whipped cream until he reached the end. Then, working it in and out like a piston, he tongue-fucked her as she tousled his hair and looked right at me, until she had yet another orgasm. Her little act sure started getting both Greg and me hard again. The spoonfuls of yogurt she then put in her hands and smeared over each of our cocks before licking them clean didn't slow us down, either.

Amy excused herself and went back into the bathroom. When she emerged, she was wearing a slinky black outfit I'd never seen. She started a seductive striptease for us. One piece after another was removed until she stood before us, totally nude once more. She spread her legs slightly, licked the fingers of one hand, and then rubbed them brazenly in and out of her freshly washed pussy. Then, she held them out to Greg so he could lick them off, one by one, while she looked right at me. We were both ready for more by that time!

Then Amy lay back down on the bed, face up. Greg immediately climbed between her legs and started fucking her again. After a few moments, I motioned for Greg to let me in . . . I really wanted to fuck my wife, and I'd come too quickly the last time. Greg rolled off and sat beside her, near her head, and I took his place in Amy's cunt. As I started fucking Amy, she reached over and grabbed Greg's cock, just like she had mine. Instead of squeezing it, though, she took it in her mouth and began sucking it (I guess she'd meant what she said earlier about wanting more of it). He leaned over her a little, and began to pump his hips, sliding himself in and out between her lips as she opened her throat to swallow as much of him as she could handle. This was another first for her, having two cocks in her at once. It had only been a little while since Greg had come in her...twice...so I was surprised he was ready to go again. She kept sucking on his cock as he pumped his hips faster, and he was now basically fucking her mouth. "Come in my mouth", she managed to say between strokes. "Give it all to me, baby . . . I wanna taste that hot, sweet cum of yours". Amy obviously wanted it, too, opening her mouth wide, her head tilted back, her tongue thrust forward to receive his load.

Greg started stroking his cock, the swollen head resting on her bottom lip. He began to come for the third time, though only a small amount came out. It looked so incredibly hot, the milky spurt flowing into Amy's mouth and onto her tongue. She swallowed it in a single gulp, then licked her lips as if to say she wanted more. The image pushed me over the edge and I added my cum to the two loads of Greg's and one of mine already there, filling my wife's cunt even more. When I pulled out, she surprised me by sliding down to my crotch and licking me clean in long, loving strokes, even tonguing my balls and that little area at the base of my balls until, incredibly, my cock started to harden once again.

Afterwards, the atmosphere was relaxed for a little while, but it wasn't long before she started again. She couldn't seem to get enough of Greg's huge cock that night. Without any shame or embarrassment, she tried to possess it. Right in front of me, she stroked it, licked it, sucked it and fucked it all night long. Somehow, Greg kept it hard for her, too, and he even managed to come again for her when, with him on his knees straddled across her chest, she jacked him off and rubbed his cum all over her tits.

Amy's ultimate liberation from any previous "I don't do that" attitudes she may have had toward sex was reached that night. She tried every way, and every position, imaginable. At one point after their bath, I watched Amy get on her knees and lean over forward, her elbows and palms flat on the bed and her ass pointing lewdly upward toward Greg, who proceeded to drive her to a shattering climax by thoroughly tonguing her asshole, and then double fingering her ass and pussy at the same time, two fingers in each hole. Later on, with her pussy spread wide open, sitting on his face as she held onto the bed's headboard, Greg ate her to yet another climax, too, slurping his own cum and mine from her dripping pussy. She went wild when he did this, groaning incoherently and forcing herself down onto his thrusting tongue as if to jam it deep inside her. My sweet wife simply gave herself up to passion that night, saying and doing things I don't think she'd ever thought about before, or at least hadn't mentioned to me. Once, while Greg and I watched, she even sat in the bedside chair, her legs apart and straddled over the arms, and slowly fingered herself to an orgasm, all the while looking right at us as she did so. Now, that was really something to see. She can do that little show again for me any time she wants to!

In all, Amy was fucked and eaten by Greg countless times and ways that night, and she had her way with his cock almost as many times and ways. She was a sexual inferno, even making herself come several times in her "do it myself" shows. Though I started off as just an observer, my wife and I fucked four times that night, too. Greg and I even double-fucked Amy - - a first for her and me both. With Greg on his back, she impaled herself on his cock, then wiggled her ass and beckoned me from the chair with a little crooked finger movement that said, "come here". She opened a little jar of Vaseline (she must have stashed it by the bed when I went to get the wine), and taking a small dab of it in her hands, greased my cock up and down, which felt pretty good by itself. But it got a whole lot better. Once I was nice and slick, she had me mount her from the rear, and helped me ease my cock into her ass. The tight fit and feeling were fantastic. She had him in her pussy, me in her ass, and she was in another world, constantly moaning as we moved in and out of her from above and below. I couldn't tell if it was from pain or pleasure, but she made it clear she didn't want either of us to stop. She's told me since then that, out of everything that happened that night, it gave her the most incredible feelings of all, and that she was simply overloaded by sensations as we filled her from both ends at once. She didn't even know if Greg or I had come when we did her that way. But I had, for sure. The sight of my own cock sliding in and out of Amy's tight ass, at the same time as another man's cock was buried to the hilt in her sopping wet pussy, was too much for me to take, and I left a load of cum deep in my wife's bowels.

The fact that she'd stashed that Vaseline is a pretty clear indication that she was hoping, at least, that one of us might come through her back door that night. Now that I think about it, from the things she'd said over the previous few weeks, and judging from everything she did that night, Amy's always wanted more attention paid to her ass during sex. I wish she'd said something about it before, or that I'd tried it and found out she liked it. Until a few weeks ago, I really didn't know that Amy had even thought about that kind of sex. You can't change history, though. Any way, she sure liked all the attention Greg paid to it, and he spent a lot of time doing her like that, lots of different ways. Now that things have changed, however, I know she likes it that way, too, which is good, because I found out that night that I like doing her that way. Amy's cute ass is really sexy, and I can think of all kinds of attention I'd like to give it. I'll bet she likes the things I come up with, too.

By the time the sun began to rise, we were all exhausted. Amy must have had dozens of orgasms that night. No inhibitions held her back, nothing we did was off limits or too nasty for her, and none of her holes were left unfilled.

So much for our ideas about a quickie or a tender, romantic experience. But it was far better the way it had turned out. Greg left shortly after we woke up that morning. No numbers or addresses were exchanged, and Amy told me she had no desire to see him again. I had no regrets about what either of us had done the night before, and Amy didn't seem to, either. If anything, it seemed like we were more in love with one another than ever before. The rest of the trip was filled with tenderness, lots of handholding, lots of kissing, and the quiet celebration of just being together. We made love the next night, just the two of us, and her passion for me seemed only to have intensified. The only real difference I could see was that now, she seemed to enjoy doing those things that she hadn't cared for that much before, that is, before the night with Greg. Believe me, I had no complaints about THAT!

We didn't talk much about the night itself until we returned home. Back in our own bed, I held Amy and told her I loved her. I thanked her for fulfilling my fantasy, and told her it was more incredible than anything I could have ever imagined. In the dark, she said: "I've got to admit it, Tim . . . I loved every second of it . . . you know, every now and then, even a 'good girl' needs a night where she can let herself go completely . . . where she can have raw, crazy sex with anyone she wants, with as many as she wants, any way she wants . . . and I needed a night like that, too, baby . . . I really did. Most married women can only fantasize about it, but because of you, I got to do a whole lot more than just fantasize. But, what I loved most about the whole thing was you, darling . . . for letting me do it, for being there with me, and for still loving me when it was over. I've always loved you, but now, with everything that's happened, I love you so much more, so much deeper and stronger than ever before. I can't imagine someone loving me so much that a night like that could have happened . . . that I could do all those sexy, naughty things I did with Greg, and yet you'd still be here . . . but here you are, in my arms, loving me more than you ever have. Everything that happened that night was so erotic, and so exciting, and yet I felt so safe and secure, all because I knew that you loved me, and that you'd still love me when it was over. I love you, too . . . and I always will."

She hugged me as tight as she could and, with a hint of one of those "sobs of joy" women seem to have when they're overcome with the emotion of a moment, whispered: "Make love to me . . . please, darling, make love to me."

She didn't have say any more. I wanted to make love to her, too . . . to hold her, to touch her, to shower her with tenderness and to let her know how much I loved her. Without knowing for sure what would happen but trusting what I said - - that I wanted it that way and that I'd still love her afterward, no matter what - - she'd changed the course of our lives, our love and our marriage, in so many ways and all for the better. Now, all I wanted to do was return her love and trust, and to please her for all the incredible things she'd done to please me. Earlier that summer, it never would have started like this, but I knew she'd welcome it now. I raised up on one elbow, looked at Amy and said: "You know, Amy, even with all that sex the other night, there's something I missed out on . . . and you know how much I like a little bed-time snack." Amy looked over at me and just smiled, saying: "Gee, I wonder what my horny husband has on his mind?" But she already knew what I wanted, and as I rolled over toward her, she lifted her hips upward and spread her legs so I could kiss my way down between them. As my fingers parted her moistening treasure and my tongue began its torment of her clit, imagine my surprise, and my delight, when I heard her moan in the darkness: "Oh, darling, that feels so good . . . please don't think I'm terrible, but I want to do it all over again, and then again and again . . . oh, baby, the sooner the better . . . please?"

At that moment, all I could say in response was "uh-huh", because my mouth was full of her pussy. I just smiled to myself and feasted away, driving Amy to a powerful orgasm that flooded my face with her juices. I stayed down there until she calmed down, gently lapping at every wet spot I could reach. As I continued licking, she continued talking.

"I love you, darling. You've let me be so naughty, but it seems like it's all been so good since 'That Morning', hasn't it? Are you OK with us never going back where we were before? I'm asking because I don't think I want to go back. What we've done may not be right for others, but it sure seemed right for both of us that night in Tahoe . . . didn't it, Tim? Wasn't it right for you, too? Baby, what we did that night . . . it was so good for me . . . and you loved it, too . . . didn't you?"

"You know I did, Amy . . . of course, it was right for us. I've never been so turned on as I was watching as Tim first touched your breasts, and then when you went down on him, right in front of me, and then when you took us both like that, and everything else you did that night. Of course, I was all right with it . . . and I want it to happen again, too . . . for both of us."

"But, baby . . . I don't want you to think I'm a slut . . ."

When I heard that word, I paused in devouring my lovely wife and looked up at her. She raised her head up and sat up a little against the headboard; I could tell she needed an answer from me.

"Hush, Amy, please baby . . . you're not a 'slut' . . . you never have been, and no matter what might happen, you never will. No matter what we've done, or what we do from now on, I could never think of you as a slut. A slut cares nothing about herself, her body or her lovers, but you care a great deal about all of them. You care about yourself, I know, and I also know that, no matter what we might do, you'll always love me first, and only. Sexy? Yeah, you bet you are. Exciting? Incredibly so. Seductive? You're irresistible. Passionate and sharing, and demanding when it comes to your own pleasure? Sure, you are . . . but who isn't? I love you so much, Amy . . . only a loving wife could have shared herself that night the way you did, and I was right there with you, loving it . . . and loving you . . . just as much as you did. Loving? I can't imagine feeling more loved by a woman than the way I feel from the love you've given me since we met. That's never changed, and I know it never will. You're a passionate, sexy lady who loves her husband and enjoys doing things that please me as well as you. I don't care what anyone else may think. Maybe it wouldn't be right for everyone . . . what we did . . . but it's right for us, darling, and I never loved you more than I loved you that night. You were incredible . . . and you still are. I loved watching you with another man as much as you enjoyed doing it . . . and that's all that matters to me . . . to us."

"Please hold me, Tim," she said, and I crawled up beside her and cuddled with her. We fell asleep that way, in one another's arms. I waited until I could hear the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing that told me she was asleep before I drifted off, too. The satisfaction of the emotional intimacy with my wife was greater than any orgasm I might have missed out on as a result of our discussion that night, and I fell into a deep slumber. I guess my concern for my wife hadn't gone unnoticed, though, because Amy awakened me that morning with her wet mouth closing around my hardening cock, and she finished me the same way as she had "That Morning".

Fact or fiction? Or some of both? You decide. Whatever conclusion you reach, I think you'll agree that opening lines of communication - - whatever that may mean to the two of you - - will greatly improve your marriage or relationship, and the sooner you do it, the better. It worked for us, that's for sure. There's been more to our story since our Tahoe weekend, and things have gotten even better since then. Maybe we'll update things later, but until then . . . talk may be cheap, but it's also worth its weight in gold when it comes to relationships.

Regards - - Tim

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

A reminder - - -

There's one crucial point I've left out of our story, because it's not sexy and it's not romantic. But it is essential. Before taking a new lover, some appropriate action must be undertaken to insure the absence of STDs. There's no good way to do it, except to be direct and insistent and consistent. Once that issue is out of the way, though, the fun can begin.