This story contains words of a sexual nature and should not be read by juveniles.
If this means you, go away and read something else; you shouldn't be here anyway. This is a work of fiction and in no way portrays real life -- if you can't hack that, go lie down in a dark room; the bad feelings will go away.
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This story contains actions and descriptions of acts that may be less than appropriate in today's uncertain and unsafe world -- practice safe sex at all times.
Sven, darling, I'm putting this right at the top for you to find. Go to Pat's Story when you're ready.
All my love, Pat
Pat, if you followed the shortcut you found this, my sweetheart. I know we said we could do this, and not tell, but she wanted me to write it down. She didn't want there to be any secrets between you and me -- and, I guess, her as well.
In the end it was Jan. Why was I surprised? It was always Jan. Jan was kind. Jan was thoughtful. Jan was sexy.
Did I just say that?
Hmm -- guess I did. Anyway this was what I wrote a day or so later...
Jan was the mother confessor type. Oh, go on! You've met them; you must have met them. Everyone knows one. The sort where you suddenly find that you've ended up telling them far, far more than either you realised or intended. Jan never wheedled anything out of anyone; she was just so easy to talk to. She didn't ask leading questions either, come to think of it. It didn't matter, you still told her things. Naughty things. Indiscretions. That was the problem really.
Pat, you're away for a month -- that residential course is too far away to travel home at the week end. Anyway the participants are expected to stay and 'join in', whatever that involves. Group discussions, for one thing. You poor lass! You phoned me that they are an uninspiring lot, so you end up bored to tears, taking to your room early and catching up on some reading or course preparation. Still, the midlife change of career was your own idea, and I know that you're looking forward to the end result and getting to grips with things once you get going.
Then there's Jan. No, she didn't really go away, still in my thoughts. In fact given, my present situation, it would have been damned odd if she hadn't been. I'd bumped into Jan earlier this morning and had allowed myself to be seduced into having coffee with her. The thought had been a pleasant one; Jan's company was welcome. The thought of going back to our empty house had been banished as she stuck her arm though mine as we walked back across the park. I'd better add that no one thought it odd of Jan, or you, if you walked arm in arm with her -- again, that was Jan.
And then there I was, coffee mug in hand, sitting on a cushion at her feet, leaning back, the settee edge against my back, my left arm over her knees, at peace with the world. Conversation momentarily ceased as we both gazed into the flickering flames of the log fire.
She spoke first. "But Sven, if that were the case, and you were worried about Pat's possible infidelity, why did you let her go?"
I thought carefully for a while before I answered. "In the end, we have to trust each other. We've been together a long time now; we know each other's needs. I know she will want to have sex -- note I said sex, not make love -- before this course finishes. I don't know whether she likes anyone there enough to sleep with them. Perhaps she will, perhaps she won't. But the opportunity will be there if she wants it to be. In the same way as it might be here for me." I paused for a moment at that point, then continued, "We did discuss this some while back. Rather more matter-of-factly than I thought we ever would."
Jan asked, "Who brought the subject up?"
I responded, "It sort of happened, but in retrospect I think she steered it that way. I think she was thinking of this month; we were trying to cover eventualities for the time she was away."
Jan said, "Very pragmatic..."
"Yes, wasn't it?" I laughed a little and went on. "The only thing we couldn't decide on was whether we should tell each other about the experience when we got back together again."
"Funny. I don't know." I turned and looked up at her, "Jan, you know us both well. What do you think?"
"Hmm..." was the response, "Maybe it ought to be a case of what the eye doesn't see..."
We were silent again, comfortable with each other's company, in the way good friends often are.
A little while later as the fire settled, the clock in the hall struck the hours and I realised I needed to move and finish off some chores before getting home. I stretched a little and then got up.
Jan murmured, "Pity, do you have to go? I was enjoying the company."
I grinned and said that I did, adding that really I should apologise for not feeling very chatty.
"So?" was her response. "So sometimes good company doesn't need to be garrulous. In fact just being about each other is nice. Heavens! You and Pat can't spend all your time nattering..."
I dug her in the ribs -- not too hard, of course -- thanked her for the coffee, gave her a kiss, and patted her bottom gently. She held my hand in place with hers and kissed me again, a little more firmly. On the mouth actually. With a little bit of tongue as well. We separated a little and looked at each other. If there was a mental shrug, I missed it, but only because we started kissing again. Unbidden, my other hand matched up and joined its neighbour. Well, almost; in fact it went to the other bottom half and I felt it pull Jan into me, just a little. Jan's arms went round the back of my neck and held me rather more tightly. I think she purred. If not, she should have done.
We came up for air and Jan half turned and leaned back into me, my hands across her middle, her head bent back on my shoulder and tucked into the hollow of my neck. She sighed contentedly. Then, without moving or looking round, she said, "Come to bed with me." Without waiting for an answer, she took my hand and simply walked towards her bedroom.
I followed. It seemed a natural thing to do at that point. Passing the long-case clock, I said, "Jan, are you sure? For goodness sake, it's ten past eleven in the morning..."
The only reply I got was "So?" It was evident that Jan had made her mind up. In any case her bungalow was not overly large, so we'd arrived. I half bumped into her as she stopped. Having made the decision, this time I kissed her, then began to undo her blouse. The merest glimmer of a smile lit her face up, her grey eyes looking deeply into mine. She caught her breath as I ran the back of my fingers softly over the swell of her breasts before releasing her bra. She held my head to her as I leaned forward and kissed them, just running my tongue over them at the same time. I moved my hands down and undid the waistband of her skirt; she completed the job and shucked it and her panties down and off.
I had moved back a little to give her some room and could now take in her beauty properly. She grinned at me, a hand on her hips as she did so, then leaned forward and closed my mouth with the other. "You'll start catching flies, Sven."
She moved the hand down off my face and undid two or three shirt buttons before pulling it out of my waistband and off over my head. I kissed her right breast, then suckled it, my hardness getting harder as I did so. I ached, but it was a beautiful deep throbbing ache, constrained as it still was. Jan moved down until she kneeled at my feet, her hands now clasping my penis through my jeans. She leaned forward and bit on the bulge, not breaking eye contact as she did so. She undid my belt and then my fly, slowly easing the jeans and my pants down and out of the way. I was wet with precum. She examined me closely from short range, stroking me, then she took me into her mouth and started to work both her lips and her hands.
I started to say, "Jan, I'm..." but it was already far too late and I came hard and extravagantly in her mouth. She took it all, swallowing at the copious flood I was delivering. As I finished, she slurped the last little bit then finished her cleaning up.
"God, I love the power of being able to do that," she said as I half slumped onto the end of her bed. She completed the task of disrobing me -- rather too expertly, my subconscious noted with an inward grin. Maybe the demure lady was a little less demure than I first thought.
Jan pushed me back on the bed, then kneeled to either side of me, the juices from her wetness damp on my stomach. She walked her knees up the bed until she pinioned my arms, then lowered that wonderful wet furry place over my lips. The musky, honey-sweet taste and smell was was succulent beyond my dreams. The eroticism of the moment brought my penis back to life with startling alacrity, considering the actions of only a moment or two before.
I sucked against her, drawing both lips together and into mine, then splitting them with my tongue, driven on by her moans of pleasure, far distant sounds in the background of my senses. I licked forwards, gathering the nectar, tasting it on my tongue, the slippery smoothness of that beautiful opening swamping my senses. I was now aware of her writhing against me as I reached the final destination, the bud of her clit, hard against my tongue. I moved my lips and gently sucked on it and was rewarded by her shuddering collapse over my head onto the bed.
Slipping my head out from underneath her, I twisted round and held her hips up as I moved my knees under her and my penis tip against her open sex. I took a moment to spread a little saliva to make sure of the lubrication, then gently glided all the way in. I could feel Jan shaking as I stopped and held steady. I ran both thumbs from the crease of the top of her thighs along the curve of her butt, past her rosebud to the very base of her spine; then, using just the nail of one finger, lightly back, this time directly over her anus. Now, holding her gently again, I moved back until just my glans was inside. Then I leaned forward and covered her, moving my hands to her breasts and pulling gently at her nipples. Jan was keening quietly all the time now, pushing back into me as I moved with more intensity.
When she came and clenched her muscles down on me, she brought me with her, spasming and arching deep into her as if my life depended on it. Then, both totally spent, we lay spooned together on our sides, her muscles still holding my shrivelled penis inside her as we dozed, clinging together. I'm afraid I was late home that day and the chores that got done weren't those I should have been doing.
You phoned and we talked regularly. I don't think it helped either of us. It's a pity we're not into phone sex, but I don't really think that way; in any case, I don't think you're that kinky. Is that the right word? Mind you, that call on Saturday, you sounded a little breathless; I must remember to ask you if you were using Buzz.
Jan dropped by again last week. I don't know whether it was with the intention of a 'mercy fuck' or she was just being kind or whatever. In the end, I don't think any mercy was shown on either side -- let me tell you about the evening:
I'd just finished supper and was washing the last of the dishes when there was a knock on the door. Wiping my hands on the drying cloth (yeah, I know you don't like me doing that), I opened the door to find... Jan.
"Hi. Thought you might be lonely..." she said. I think I said to come in -- whatever. I stepped to one side and she came in. I shut the door and turned round and she kissed me, just that hint of tongue again -- God, it's lovely. Long, lingering and lovely. In the end I just picked her up and walked her, still kissing me, into the kitchen and sat her on the edge of the table.
Pat, sweetheart, she's as sexy as hell -- worse than you. I owe her for a new pair of knickers by the way; hers got ripped as I took them off. I stepped back, dropped my trousers and shorts, and just ploughed into her right there. Don't know what she'd been thinking; she was sopping wet and started coming as soon as I was inside her. She's tight as hell and her muscle contractions brought me off in a couple of strokes. Jeez, talk about instant sexual gratification! I don't think either of us could have waited a moment longer, even if we'd wanted to. I also ended up doing something you won't let me. I slipped out of her and her short muff was too much for me, I ended up going down on her and eating her out. It's a strange taste, our combined juice: a little tart, a little sweet -- not at all like I thought it might be. I just closed my mouth over her and licked and licked; she went quite berserk, holding my head into her and then trying to push me away. I just carried on until I couldn't breathe properly and had to stop. She just came and came, all her movements emptying her and my come into my mouth. I'm definitely going to do it for you when you come back.
Anyway, back to that evening. I sort of slumped onto one of the kitchen chairs and tried to get my breath back. Jan just lay back on the table trying to do the same. I've never had sex quite like it. In the end I sat her up on the table end and undressed her properly, then took off my clothes as she watched, silently. Then I took her hand and we went to bed. Yes, our bed, I know -- maybe the symbolism wasn't lost, but it was another boundary crossed. In truth I didn't think about it 'til later. We didn't have sex again -- well, not then -- but just hugged each other to sleep without saying anything. There didn't seem to be anything to say.
I woke up later. Jan was lying on her back, sleeping quietly. I eased down the bed and began to eat her again. As she woke up she stroked my hair with her fingers and then finished up by pulling my head against her as she came again. When I came up for air, she kissed me and then rolled me over and started on me. After a little while she straddled me and slid down my length. It was too much and I came before she could move again. I went to sleep still inside her with her lying on my chest. I'm rather afraid we screwed ourselves sore again the next morning.
And that, Pat, my lovely, was it. Jan and I. When you return, if you want to, Jan would like to share both of us. So maybe the time is right for a possible threesome. Pat, darling, did you indulge yourself? Will you share it with me...?
Sven, that's so hot. This is my story, "Pat's Story":
It's funny, isn't it? For days before I left for my course, our night-time conversation wandered through my head. I knew he'd often hinted that maybe, just maybe, we ought to be a little more open in our marriage. Up to now I hadn't been so sure. So-called "open marriages" don't seem to work out that well -- to me they had seemed to be an excuse for the male half to wander off and have a good time.
Now I was going somewhere where, if I were discrete, it looked like I might get a chance to be more "open", except it didn't seem the wonderful idea it did last night in bed. Sven, you hadn't said anything while saying goodbye, just a little time ago before I drove off, but then it would have been silly of you to do so... or would it? Damn! I couldn't get it out of my mind. "Turn the radio up; concentrate on driving and don't be silly!" I told myself.
Nearly four tiring hours later, I pulled into the car park of the Hotel that was to be my home for almost a month. Fairly new, it looked passable; perhaps it might not be too bad after all. After parking the car, I went and checked in, leaving my bag for the moment. Just as well. As it turned out, the residential block for the school was a self-contained annex a short distance from the main area. Redirected, and now with my key, I moved the car the couple of hundred metres and parked again before going in search of my room.
It turned out to be on the ground floor at the back overlooking an area of grass that sloped gently towards a lake. At least I looked to be in for a quiet time. This stay might not be so bad after all; the rest would rather depend on my fellow students. Time would tell.
A little while later, having unpacked and fully checked the room out -- no bath, but a good shower -- I lay out on the bed. Whilst not over large, it wasn't small and it proved to be quite comfortable when I lay on it. The room also had a small television and a student-style desk for the study I would undoubtedly be expected to do in the evening. A small, cozy armchair completed the furniture. Idly I wondered if entertaining "guests" was permitted. Giggling to myself, I hoped the walls weren't too thin.
I lay back on the bed and read the welcome pack. Another hour to the evening meal and the chance to meet the other students. That was over in the main building again, as was the lecture room. I decided to shower and freshen up after the journey. The shower was everything a shower should be -- hot and strong. I managed to resist the temptation to spend too long; even still a soapy finger, lingering, rubbing, started an itch that might be better contained for the moment. Sven, you were right; you know me too well. I was going to be as horny as hell without you, and even my "toys" were not going to help for all the time I was away. Hell! What was it you said? "Discretion -- just don't rape the instructor on the first day." Well, we'd see about that...
Half an hour later, I thought, "Well he's safe!" The instructor, that is -- overweight, unfit, florid visage. Nope. Even I, horny as I felt, found him quite resistible. Trouble was, the other students weren't exactly inspiring either. The young men were just that: young men. Those a little older didn't at first sight seem any better. Oh, well, Sven, my lovely -- your advise not to get involved with other members of my course was going to be very easy to comply with. Only trouble was, where else was I going to find the time to find me a willing bed partner? In fact, typical really. Away from home, pretending to be single -- no rings; Sven, you had suggested I leave them off. As I hadn't worn them for a few days now, there were no ring marks either. So all the setup I required, except no partner, no Don Juan heaving over the horizon, lusting after my body or even my mind.
And in the end not a lot of time either. The instructors, another man, marginally less inspiring than the one we met on the first night, and a woman, worked us hard. Long days in the classroom and more study at night. I was ending up so tired all I wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep. Even poor old Buzz remained untainted, his batteries unused. So much for sex -- not even onanism was either interesting or happening. The instructors made a big play that the first weekend away was for "relaxing"! Yeah, sure...
Friday evening I phoned you as usual, Sven, and we talked for a lovely long time. It was evident we were missing each other, but never having been into phone sex we didn't cover much of that side of things. I was itching to ask if you'd "opened" your side of the account, but then the opportunity didn't arise. Anyway, as I hadn't and it didn't look as if I were going to, I just let things be.
Saturday, heaven. A lie in, even if it meant missing breakfast, was luxury itself. I got up and showered with Buzz -- the first moment I'd either had the time or the interest in my plastic friend.
The warmth of the shower and the hot water playing on my breasts and belly were wonderful. I ran Buzz, turned low, across my breasts, my nipples perking up as ever. I used my other soapy hand, rubbing across them, pulling, pinching a little, moaning as those sensual contractions started in my pussy. I could feel myself moistening, lubricating as I ran my fingers across my stomach and into my short fur. I walked Buzz along my outer lips down under, shuddering a little as I drew him back across my rosebud to the base of my spine. My eyes shut as I imagined your fingers, Sven, darling, running down my lower back, touching, feeling, exciting me, then I moved Buzz's tantalising shape back, using him to spread my lips, lubricating his tip then moving in on my clit. I could hear my moans now, like a distant sobbing, not really part of me, not really aware that it was "me" making the sound. With Buzz busy against my clit, I pulled at my breasts with the other, finally moving back down to use one hand on my clit, the other stroking Buzz in and out of my now thoroughly aroused opening. Finally I came in a crashing orgasm that quite literally brought me to my knees in the shower. Still trembling a little in the aftershocks, I washed off the soap and my juices. What a delicious way to start the day -- alive. I felt so alive, ready for anything.
In the late morning Autumn sunshine, I walked to the Hotel's main building, picked up a newspaper, and ordered coffee. Bliss. Not to be in that blasted classroom. Most of the other students had gone home for the weekend; they mainly lived close by. I was the only interloper, so I now had the place largely to myself. I didn't want or need to go into town, so I decided to explore the grounds of the hotel. The lake beyond the annex had looked particularly nice, so with my latest book I walked over the gardens in that direction, intent on discovery, or at the very least some nice undisturbed reading.
The summer house, tucked into a little discrete hollow, was a gem, beautiful, an inspired choice in an inspired setting. I rounded the side and walked up the steps onto the veranda where the full length sliding doors had been pulled back. The armchairs looked nice enough and, when I sat in one, were comfortable. Set inside out of the slight breeze and in the sunshine it was quietly elegant -- just right.
A little while later, engrossed in my book, I was rather startled when a man -- I took him as a new guest; I hadn't seen before -- walked past the front of the veranda and then on down to the pier at the edge of the lake. He hadn't seen me, sitting back, now slightly in shadow. I watched as he looked at the boats further out. He had dark hair and a slight build and looked to be a about the same age as me. He was interesting and I found myself idly wondering if he was a guest and on his own. I glanced at my watch and realised that dinner was not far off and I wanted to freshen up first. I just about had time, so I picked up my things and went to my room.
As I changed for dinner I started to put on my trousers -- well, jeans, really -- then changed my mind. Thinking of the stranger maybe, I put on a slightly naughty-but-nice skirt, blouse and stockings instead -- I giggled a bit as I thought of the possibilities, then told myself to behave. Then thought again that perhaps my chance to "open things up a little" might occur. Humming to myself, I made my way to the bar to have a drink before dinner.
I watched him in the mirror behind the bar as he came into the room. He appeared rather nice he looked round at the three or four other groups of dinner guests, then at me. I watched as he studied me, then came on into the room and made his way to the bar beside me. I wondered: would he make the first move, or would I? If he made the first move, would I play hard to get, or would he? I licked my lips in anticipation of the chase, then blushed inwardly at the overt signal I'd just given. He studied me in the mirror -- damn! I wished I hadn't given up smoking -- at least it gave you something to with your hands. I took a drink instead and decided to go into dinner. I smiled sweetly at him as I got off the stool and went though the door to the dining room, still able to watch him in the angle of one of the side mirrors. I saw him check out my legs and rear, so I wiggled a bit more as I went through the door. "Really Patricia!" I said to myself, "What are you thinking?" Then again I giggled inwardly as I realised the gusset of my knickers was moist. I wondered if he were picking up the pheromones yet? Time would tell. I wondered how long he was staying; I had all the weekend left yet...
I sat at the table allocated to me so as to be able to look across the room, but not directly; that way he wouldn't know if I were weighing him up. I realised then that, as I thought about it, I had already made my mind up: he didn't know it yet, but unless something untoward happened, we were going to mutually get laid tonight. At least I hoped so; that was my plan.
But I hadn't reckoned on his plans, it seemed. Ten minutes later he came in with another man; he'd obviously been waiting for in the bar. Damn! Damn! Damn! This wasn't fair; it wasn't in the script -- least ways, not my script. Ah, well, perhaps tomorrow. I didn't pay too much more attention to them, other than to note that they were evidently good friends and that once or twice they looked in my direction.
Having finished dinner, I moved back into the lounge section of the bar to have my coffee, my back to the dinning room; I went back to reading my book.
A little while later a voice, then a hand on my shoulder, startled me as my stranger asked if they might buy me a drink and join me. I stammered, "Yes", a little annoyed that I hadn't seen them approaching or even thought of them again.