Next year I’ll be sixty years old. Among other things the approaching milestone has brought a lot of old memories bubbling to the algae covered surface of my consciousness. While not a few of those memories contained sexual elements, one in particular merits recounting.

It was the height of the hippy, leisure suit, Nehru jacket, disco decade: the ‘70’s. I didn’t belong to that level of society. I was more of the ‘sorta hippie’, college dropout segment. In other words, I just tried to earn enough to feed me. I just lived. Wearing jeans mostly, and working a lousy job I was just trying to make it. I’d been declared 4F by the Draft Board, since I’d torn a cartilage in my knee skiing on Mt. Rainier when I was in high school. I was not sad about that. But it didn’t disqualify me for physical work in civilian life. I spent a year in community college, but decided it wasn’t for me.

During the summer seasons, I had been working on a small fishing boat that worked the coast of Washington and Oregon, mostly. Then one day early in the fourth season I was there, the captain called the crew -- all three of us deck hands -- together for an announcement. He wanted to run up to Southeast Alaska for the summer.

“All you guys can come along, but if you decide not to go, then you can have a job next year when I come back ... if I come back, and if I have work for you. If I decide to stay up there, I’ll help you out some if you come along, or pay your fare back here; your choice.” Actually, the turnover on the boat was pretty steady. I was the senior member, and I’d only been aboard for four seasons. At least a dozen other guys had come and gone during that time.

The news made my heart pound. I’d been dreaming of Alaska since one of the guys I’d graduated from high school with came back from his military service. He’d been in the Air Force and stationed up there. His stories about the land and the friendliness of the people – especially the women – had lodged in my imagination and taken root. His stories about the Alaskan Bush Company – a wild tittie bar in Anchorage – sounded to me like the El Dorado of the North.

I went to my parents’ house for dinner that night. I couldn’t shut up about the trip. After dinner I rummaged through the stuff I’d left behind for things I might need. There was still a lot of my old Boy Scout gear left over. I didn’t know if I’d get time to do anything on land before the end of the season, but I wanted to “be prepared” if I did. I also was considering staying up there after the fishing was done. That was a detail I hadn’t told my mom, since she thought Alaska was a foreign country. She goes to visit my aunt in Chicago every year and Alaska is closer than that.

Picking through my old stuff in the garage I found a lot of mildew and rotten leather straps. I could sharpen my knife and hatchet; other metal stuff seemed okay too. But my tent was trashed and the sleeping bag smelled like vomit.

One of the things my buddy told me was that anybody with half a brain could find good work in Alaska. A guy just couldn’t be too particular about what he was willing to do for the big bucks. For one thing, they’d just started building the pipeline up there. The word was that they had no shortage of men already there, and twice as many had applied.

Still, a lot of them were family guys working for a stake, or to get them out of debt before going back to the ‘Lower 48’, as Alaskans call the rest of the U.S. For another thing, a lot of them were college students (a designation that just hadn’t taken with me, as I said). So they’d leave before the end of the summer. Most of the jobs were meant to be year-round and those guys would have to be replaced.

As it turned out, I came home after that season. But the captain said he was staying. Since he knew I was his best hand (his words, I swear) he’d pay my way home and back up the next year. I told him to sign me up. Since I’d given up my apartment when I left, I ended up back with my parents and sleeping in my old room.

The first week after I got back I spent a lot of time partying with my friends. My mom treated me like I was still in high school and partying a lot wasn’t part of that. She wanted to know who, where, what, etc. every time I left the house. So I started looking for another place to stay for the next few months.

There was a guy I knew from my year in college who had stayed in touch with me after I’d dropped out and gone to work full time. He said I could sleep on his couch, so I took him up on it. There was only one small problem. He’d fallen in love and married a good looking blonde.

Patty was attractive in some way I can’t describe. She was cute and nearly always had a smile on her face. She was sexy without trying. I got a hard crush on her when we first met but she was my buddy’s wife, so I knew I’d have to be good. She, however, was openly flirty. Also, she was physically friendly. As long as Gary didn’t mind, I didn’t care if she wanted to hook her arm through mine and rub her tit against my biceps. She even did that as we three walked through a park. And Gary didn’t care. If it had only been things like that, there was really nothing wrong with it.

Patty didn’t like her picture taken. I was hot for photography back about then (remember film cameras?) and had scored a used SLR camera and a bunch of high quality black and white film which I learned how to load into canisters in the darkroom I’d created in their spare bedroom/storage room.

My camera went everywhere with me in those days. Anyway, I’d just changed the film one afternoon at ‘home’. The sun beamed through the front windows and over Gary and Patty sitting on the floor in front of their couch. We were stoned, of course. We were stoned most of the time back then. So we were laughing about something ... or nothing. I was sitting in the big chair across from them.

Anyway, I got the film loaded and sighted through the camera in their direction. Just as I pressed the shutter, Patty pulled her shirt up to hide her face, ‘forgetting’ somehow that she was braless (like she ever wore a bra anyway). “Click”. Gary fell over laughing and Patty’s face was a dark blush as she laughed too in the second shot I took then. I framed both prints in a single frame and gave it to them as a gift. Patty insisted it would only hang in their bedroom.

Gary and Patty’s bedroom was just off the living room and when they made love, Patty was very vocal, especially when she came. It always gave me a painful hard on to hear it. Trying to picture the scene, I’d jerk myself to some great orgasms.

Then the first inevitable thing happened. It was necessary to go through their bedroom to get to the bathroom. I had by then seen most of Patty’s naked (sleeping) torso, and, one time, her butt, on nightly piss trips to the bathroom. Anyway, one day Gary had to work but Patty didn’t. I had coffee with Gary before he left. After a while the coffee had the usual effect. I tiptoed through the darkened bedroom, where I figured Patty was sleeping.

After I used the bathroom I started back across the bedroom. Patty’s voice stopped me. “Hey,” she said in a sleepy voice.

“Hey, yourself,” I replied. “Sorry I woke you.”

“I wasn’t asleep. I just didn’t want to have to put clothes on yet. I love being naked.” Gary and she had gone to a local nudist camp the previous summer, so that wasn’t news to me. She stretched, carelessly (?) letting the sheet slip off one tit, and her eyes held mine. I only saw her breast in peripheral vision. Then she sat up all the way and reached her arms out to me.

Well, what would you have done? There were her pear shaped breasts, the dark pink and erect nipples pointing straight at me. As I said earlier, I had a heavy crush on her already. After living with them for a few weeks I have to say I’d fallen in love with her. I moved into her embrace, inhaling her morning aromas. I could even smell the sex I’d heard that morning before Gary got up. It only made my cock strain harder against my ‘tighty-whities’, which were all I wore.

Patty’s hand slipped under my waistband as we kissed. She grabbed my dick and released it from its confinement and devoured it. I knew I should have stopped, her but I also wanted to unload into her pussy. So I gently removed her head from my lap and knelt down to suck one of those hard nipples. My hand slipped down into the slippery, sweaty heat of her crotch. She was already full, as I’d known. I moved down farther and brought my head into the V of her widely spread legs.

“Uh, Greg, you might not want to do that right now,” she warned me. I just ran my nose through her sticky and tangled pubic hair. When I parted her labia with my tongue, Patty gasped. I went to town on her. Knowing it was my buddy’s sperm I was swallowing made it more erotic – I guess -- for both of us. At least it didn’t take long for Patty to begin emitting those all too familiar moans and grunts. A small gush of juices oozed out when she came. I swallowed it all, including more of Gary’s sperm.

“Oh, my fucking god! Gary would ... AHH! ... never do that! AAAHH!” I swallowed again and brought my fingers into play. I kept licking and prodding inside her until she came again.

We finished and relaxed together in those scented sheets. “I’ve never had such a hard orgasm, Greg!” she said. “And, believe me when I say that. I’ve had a LOT of dicks in me.”

That was the beginning. We took the opportunity to fuck whenever we could. I felt like an asshole because of Gary, but this wasn’t the first time Patty had done this. In fact they’d had a blow up when Gary had found out about the first time after they were married. Yet, they were still friends with the guy she’d had the affair with. He was a regular visitor, but never fucked her again that I knew of. To settle the argument, she told him to go out and find a woman to fuck. He did. Then they moved on together, friends with his lover as well as hers. The way Patty put it was that she wasn’t sleeping with other men because she chose not to. Gary wasn’t sleeping with other women because she didn’t want him to. Gary didn’t object.

It was simple for me to rationalize what she and I were doing, chiefly because of that statement. In the back of my conscience, though, I knew I shouldn’t be fucking, let alone falling in love with, my buddy’s wife. What made it even harder was that she told me she was in love with me too. Still, she said she loved Gary. I considered ending the affair. But I didn’t. A guilty conscience didn’t stop Patty either.

Weeks passed. One night I was under my blanket on the couch and their sex sounds began. I had already slipped my underwear off and was stroking my hard cock when I heard their orgasm(s?). Things were quiet a while. Then Gary’s voice called out, “Greg? Are you awake?”

“Uh, yeah. Hard to sleep with your lullaby going on,” I joked. They laughed.

“Do you want to come and play with us?” his voice came again. God! Did I want to? Hell yeah, I wanted to fuck Patty! But he had said, ‘with us’. Did I want to have him as an audience when I fucked her? Did he want to do something with me? I’ve never done anything like that with another guy, but I was curious about it. I admit now that both ideas made me throb in my hand. So I slipped my underwear off and went to their door.

Patty was on her back, legs bent at the knees and spread wide. Gary was between her and the wall on his side. They were both naked, the sheets shoved into a pile at the foot of the bed. I glanced first at her smiling face. I looked at Gary’s grin. I looked at his semi-soft cock, lying across his thigh, dripping. My dick gave a little jump. Was it seeing his gooey cock or her nakedness?

I stepped to the bedside and Patty crowded back against Gary to make room for me. Then she reached for my cock. As she licked the drops from the end and began to slide me into her warm mouth, I glanced at Gary’s expression. His eyes were wide open while he watched his wife slowly swallowing me. He seemed fascinated. Also his dick was getting hard again.

Her tongue did wonderful things around me. Her hands went to my hips and started pushing me, then pulling, fucking herself with my cock. I got the idea and started to move my hips – fucking her mouth. But I stopped her; I was too close. I lay down next to her.

On my back, I watched Patty straddle my hips, but I pulled at her. She moved higher until she was right over my face. I saw Gary’s deposit around her spread labia. I pulled her to my mouth and Gary gasped.

“Greg! We just...” he said.

I pulled my mouth away long enough to tell him, “I know. I heard you,” before returning to sucking his sperm from her hot pussy. She reached behind her ass to fondle my erection. Gary groaned.

Her hand left me, but soon returned. I thought it was her. I found out later that she had grabbed Gary’s hand to take her place. She lifted up and reversed her position before lowering her crotch for more licking. I licked from her clit to the ‘taint’, the sensitive spot between cunt (or balls) and ass hole. I did it again before traveling back to rim her puckered hole. She groaned and leaned to slurp my leaking dick back into her lips. That’s when I felt what had to be Gary’s hand on my balls.

She played her tongue all around the knobby head and her hand reached for Gary’s dick to stroke his returned erection. Then she sat up. Then, the feeling of a mouth dropping over my stiff cock told me she had urged Gary to participate. The sensation – and knowledge that it was Gary’s tongue that swirled along my length before enclosing it again. I grunted to let him know he was about to get a mouthful.

He started to raise up, but Patty’s hoarse half whisper, half groan said, “Take it, Gary. You love to come in my mouth. Swallow it baby, please! I want to watch!” She held his head down gently so he could pull it away if he wanted to. But he issued a moan of his own as I came, feeling his throat spasm in a swallow. He let some leak out, but I soon stopped throbbing.

Then it was Patty’s moan sounding out as her pussy contracted, forcing out the remnants of his earlier charge along with her own contribution. She rose off me and went down on his reawakened cock to catch another load from him.

We rolled apart, this time she rolled behind him, so he and I were pushed together in our nudity. We didn’t speak for a while, we just lay there catching our breath. Then Patty giggled. Her arm came over him and me, pulling us closer. I felt his sweaty softening dick against my own.

I was surprised when she did that, because it felt good being so close to another guy. I’d been socially conditioned to avoid things like that, even though boys showered together in school and were otherwise exposed to one another from time to time. One high school I went to for half a year even had a swimming pool, where boys and girls used to take turns skinny-dipping during P.E. classes. They had stopped that two years before I got there and suits were required.

His eyes seemed to convey a shyness, as I supposed would be his feeling. I felt bad that he felt that. The pleasure his mouth had given me made me do what I did then. I reached past him to hug Patty even closer, thus pulling him closer to me. I looked at Patty’s grin over his shoulder. I rested my head on Gary’s shoulder to kiss Patty. Then I whispered into his ear, “Thank you, buddy. That felt great.

Things changed between the three of us after that. We displayed less modesty around the house, leaving our clothes off at times. There was no tension when Gary and I were nude together. Patty would kiss or fondle either of us in passing. I still slept on the couch, but left the undies off, hoping for another invitation.

That didn’t exactly happen. But we spent hours discussing our feelings about it all for the first few days after it happened. From some of the things Gary said, I got the itch to try it too. Their schedules sometimes matched and sometimes one or the other of them worked at night while the other stayed home. When it was Patty at home while he worked, we smoked dope and made love. When it was Gary at home with me, we smoked dope and listened to music.

Finally, on one of those nights, he and I were smoking as we sat on the carpet in our underwear. When we finished the joint, I went to the kitchen for a couple of beers. I was horny. I slid my underwear off before returning to Gary. My cock was half hard since I knew what I was about to do. I handed Gary a beer and sat back down near him.

I watched his dick expand under the cotton. I swigged my beer and leaned over and kissed him on the lips. No tongue, but I pressed my lips to his for longer than I would have his cheek (if I ever would) in a friendly peck. I sat back, my dick standing unashamedly in my lap. I slipped my hand under the elastic of Gary’s Jockeys and pushed at them, urging him to get them off. He did and there was my target, as hard as I was.

“It’s my turn, man, if you want,” I told him. He looked into my eyes for a few seconds before smiling a shy smile. I scooted back some and leaned down. I inhaled his scent. We’d both showered that morning, but lived through the day, sweating some, probably farting, pissing and maybe he had taken a dump, as I had, though there was no shit odor, just a musky combination of human male scents.