Chapter 10: Parents’ Surprise

I was up early, still charged with some the energy from the night before. The evening of sex with Gale and Nancy, plus watching my girls with the other men, had been mind-blowing for me.

I made coffee and French toast, setting up the dining table. Fran came out of the bedroom in one of my t-shirts.

She started, “Last night was...”

I interrupted her. “Before you say anything, I want you to take a piece of paper and write down the answers to a couple of questions about last night, okay?”

“Sure, I think I get it. We won’t influence each other.”

“Exactly. I want genuine off-the-top-of-your-head feelings. Don’t mince words.” I passed her a blank sheet of paper.

Fran asked, “What are the questions?”

“What did you feel going into last night’s session? Were your expectations met? What surprised you? On a scale of one to ten, did you like last night? Would you do it again? How often?”

Fran chuckled and started writing, “That’s pretty comprehensive.”

As she scribbled, Sheila and Ally came out of the bedroom, also wearing my t-shirts. I explained what we were doing before they had a chance to say anything, repeating the questions a couple of times. They watched Fran, and then accepted the challenge, each picking a place away from the others to jot down their answers. I’d already done mine just before Fran appeared.

When everyone was done, we all sat and started in the French toast and breakfast treats.

I said, “Let’s go around the table, and read your answers to each question as we come to it. We’ll see how aligned in our feelings we are.” I paused and got agreement, and then started, “The first question was what did we feel going into last night’s party? I felt nervous, excited, unsure of how you’d feel afterwards, concerned that I might lose one of you to one of them, anxious about my performance – that’s a guy thing, desire to impress, geared up to do a little extra.” I finished and turned to Fran on my left.

Fran, Sheila, and Ally responded in turn. Their comments were similar to mine: nervous, blushing, hoping for a good time for everyone, afraid someone wouldn’t like some physical feature like their breasts, on my best behavior, performing like a porn star, etc.

The next question, ‘Were your expectations met?’ we went around the table. The responses were, “Yes, far exceeded. I didn’t know it would be so much fun. Yes, and I’m horny just thinking about it. Yes, and I’ll never forget the evening.”

Another question, ‘What surprised you?’ elicited a few comments: “Three women fainting because of what I did to or for them. How varied the men were in their lovemaking techniques. The number of orgasms (good). Exhibitionism. Voyeurism is fun. Feeling pangs of jealousy as I watched some of you make love to someone new. Feeling good when I saw one of you enjoying yourselves. The sexual energy in the room (great!).”

The question asking for a rating of the night got all tens. When I asked, they all said they couldn’t imagine a more stimulating night than what we’d just shared.

Last, the responses to ‘Would you do it again? How often?’ had pretty uniform replies: “Yes, monthly. Yes, every few weeks. Yes, not every weekend but not too long in between get togethers. Yes, every two weeks at start and maybe monthly later on after we get used to it; this would keep us psyched up for a session.”

Ally made us all laugh, she thought we should have group sex every night with lots of orgasms and cum splattered all over everybody all the time.

I commented, “I’m amazed at how uniform we are.”

Fran asked, “Tell us about the pangs of jealousy you felt.”

I thought for a moment, “Let me start with a preface to my remarks. I love each of you, and I didn’t realize until last night how deep that feeling was in my ego. When I looked around and each of you were in the throes of passion with another man, I had a feeling of loss sweep over me – as though each of you were going to go off with that person. Call it low self-worth or self-esteem on my part, but that’s what I felt. You should know that sometimes I feel as though I don’t deserve you. Those feelings of insecurity led to a feeling of jealousy – fear of loss of something of great value to me, the love each of you share with me.”

“So, how did you get over it, or didn’t you?”

“At the time, I had Nancy and Gale with me, and I kind of kicked myself in the head and said, ‘Hey, wait a minute, that’s irrational.’ I talked to myself about how I was making up stories without any basis other than my own insecurities. I knew I could ask each of you how you felt about each of the other men, and I know from how we interact that you’d be honest with me. I also felt as though I was responding to a message society was sending to me, and not a genuine feeling of my own; or to put it another way, the green monster was outside of me, not inside.”

Sheila said, “I felt the same way when I saw you with Nancy and Gale, yet Chip was doing a nice job making me happy.”

Ally said, “I couldn’t identify it last night, but I felt that, too.”

I asked, “So, what did you feel about the guys there ... or the women, for that matter?”

Ally said, “I like the three of them very much, but they’re not you. It’s not about the sex either; it’s much deeper than that. I feel your loving energy every moment of the day, even when we’re apart. I didn’t feel that from those men. It wasn’t bad, it just was ... plain – an interesting encounter with someone I liked a lot, but ... incomplete in some ways.”

Fran said, “I agree. I liked making love with three new men in one night. I felt like that ethical slut you talked about a day or so ago. I knew I was being slutty, and I loved it. I would have done more guys, a gangbang even. And, Ally’s right, it was sex not love, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I love you. I like them.”

Sheila leaned forward, “Ditto on all counts. My inner slut liked making out with three new men, plus walking around nude in someone else’s home knowing I’d get fucked again any second. I like the guys, but I love you. I would like to see them again, but if I never did that would be alright. Now, what’d you think about the women?”

I commented, “Gale and Nancy are pretty, emotional, approachable, and sexy. Like all of us, they work to stay in shape. They don’t have the charisma, personality, verve, or sparkle that each of you do. They were horny, fucked beautifully like little minx, but I didn’t feel love for them. I did feel affection and my natural male protectiveness came into play, but I knew something was missing. I want to comment that we use the term ‘make love’ for what we do, and we applied that term last night, but really mostly it was ‘fucking.’ It was good old-fashioned intercourse for the hedonistic pleasure of the act, and not much more, and I surely believe there’s a place for that in life.”

“Thank you.”

I said, “I expect to hear from Lyle or Chip someday soon, probably inviting us back again. I think they had fun with us, and we certainly opened their eyes to some new ways of thinking and new techniques. I’ll see what I can put together in three or four weeks.”

The girls nodded acceptance to that idea.

The following week our thoughts were mostly on our memories of the evening we spent with Lyle and Nancy Reddick, Chip and Gale Dunn, and Aidan Winslow. It was a small orgy with the four of us, and we each enjoyed our time. Ally described the evening as taking a bath in sex.

We did make a date with Lyle to get together in two weeks. The thought of a repeat performance gave us all a jolt of extra sexuality. When we were together we started to fantasize about the things we didn’t do that night, for instance girl-on-girl action between the wives and some of our circle.

Jean Henson called midweek and asked us to come for dinner on Saturday. As long as I was fantasizing, I started to think of what Jean would be like in bed. Unlike Nancy and Gale, I was developing a significant relationship with Jean because of all the visits we’d had at their house, usually for weekend meals. Of course, over the past couple of months we’d had an escalating flirtation taking place, usually at her instigation.

The last couple of visits the interactions between Jean and me had escalated to a level I was sure suggested a desire on her part for a sexual relationship. We’d even hinted through words about making love with each other.

While we’d been active, the girls had decided that a physical relationship with Dave – their father or dad – might be a most interesting proposition. Fran, who shared no blood with her stepfather, had started the flirtation with him and he’d responded well like any red-blooded male would with a woman as pretty and sexy as Fran.

The last couple of visits Fran had reinforced her interest in something more significant with Dave. Simultaneously, Sheila and Ally came on to him a little to see how he’d respond. Apparently, he’d had thoughts about a physical relationship with his daughters, because, according to Ally, he responded very well, especially when she gave him a billion-dollar kiss and held his hand to her breast in one of their more tender moments.

We got out to their home in Dillon about four on Saturday afternoon. As the girls went to find Dave and impress upon him how much they loved him ... and wanted to love him, Jean and I went into the kitchen and I got a really powerful welcome. The kisses were warm and unequivocal in displaying how we felt about each other. Further, Jean maneuvered my leg between her thighs so she could hump me and she could feel the bulge in my pants that she’d created.

We’d been this far before, kissing and some subtle humping. This time a minute into our teasing and play, Jean raised the stakes. As we were French kissing and she pressed her pussy against my leg, she reached down with one hand and rubbed the rapidly swelling erection in my pants.