Chapter 4: Pam and Trish meet Jon, Amy, and Reese

Tuesday morning, we repeated how we’d started Monday. The three of us got up earlier than need be, and we made love before we agreed to meet after work at my condo in Sarasota, and then go to dinner downtown.

I got a solid day’s work in, still thinking almost continuously about Pam and Trish. I also got some good news from the previous client I’d had dinner in L.A. with just before getting on the red eye back home the week before. He decided he did need some upgrades to the security of his computers, servers, and networks, so I had a new and lucrative piece of work. The downside was that I’d have multiple trips to L.A.

I got a text from Pam about five o’clock: ‘Tied up indefinitely. Take Trish to dinner; I’m having pizza delivered. I’ll catch you both later tonight at your condo. Love. Me.’

Trish arrived just before six. I showed her Pam’s text right away. I asked her, “What would you like to do?”

She didn’t answer, but she pulled me down the hallway into my bedroom and then kissed away my clothes as I did the same to hers. With the sunlight streaming in the windows, we made love for over an hour. We did it every which way: soft, hard, romantic, rough, rude and slappy, and soft and tender. It was all about love and pleasing each other. In the end, Trish had about six orgasms, and I had two rather large ones. After each of mine, Trish made a show of scooping up my cum and swallowing some of it.

We lay in each other’s arms, catching our breath after the last of our big O’s.

Trish said in a matter of fact tone, “I have two questions for you, both sort of sexual in a way.”

“Ask away.”

“First, do you always cum so much?”

“You think I cum a lot? I wasn’t aware that what I did was unusual. It’s not like I can control it either; it just is what it is. Pam mentioned it too.”

“Well, I’m not a virgin, and I’ve been with ten guys in my life before I made love with you, and you are a geyser of cum compared to them, plus I can feel you shooting inside me. I’d never felt that before. It’s very erotic, and it makes me cum harder too because it’s so hot. It’s like I know you’re filling my body with your love.”

“I’ll take your word for it, and in a way it is my gift of love to you. Let’s ask Pam what her experience is.”

“My other question is sort of related. Do you think I’m a slut?”

“Whoa. Why would I think that?”

“Because I ate your cum out of Pam’s pussy, and I just tasted what’s leaking out of mine. Maybe you think she’s a slut too for doing it to me. She called herself that, but I think she was just being playful with crude words.”

I laughed and then had to apologize while I was still laughing because Trish look miffed. Finally, I regained control. “My darling Trish, I think a woman eating a man’s cum is one of the hottest things she can do short of fucking the guy’s brains out. Eating from another woman’s pussy raises the ‘hotness’ of the act a million-fold. It’s like super hot. Every time I watched you or Pam do that, I got hard, even if I just came. It’s tremendously arousing and sexy. I loved it, but as I said you don’t have to do it to please me.”

I got up and went to my bedroom bookcase and came back with a book I handed to Trish. The title was The Ethical Slut. “If you read this you’ll find that yes, you are absolutely a slut and it’s a marvelous and wonderful thing to be. The women that wrote the book are of a mind that sex is for us to enjoy and not put strictures on. No ‘shoulds’ and no judgments about something being ‘bad.’ If you want to be a slut, as you see it, that’s fine. If you want to be a virgin the rest of your life, that’s fine too. Everything in between with all the variations is also acceptable. Don’t make a value judgments about whether what you do is bad or good because where are you getting the criteria from?”

Trish shrugged, “I’m guessing what my parents would think if they knew?”

“Well, who are they to set standards for your behavior? Be your own person. Of course, you could also invoke your church, the government, and no end of other thoughtful organizations, but again it’s none of their business – even though some of them would like to make it their business.”

“The churches think it’s their business. They set standards.”

“Do you like the standards they set? Do you like what the Bible says is acceptable behavior? If so, I think I have to stone you or something like that.”

“Not really. The churches aren’t in touch with what’s going on in our society in terms of sexual mores. Most religions are against just about anything sexual and call it a sin, the same in a good part of the Bible, or at least how many interpret it. The whole message of love has been perverted. I thought religion was supposed to be all about love, but instead it’s about sin, and rules, and some people judging others, and what makes you go to hell or heaven. It’s sad and unrealistic, especially that so many people see it that way.”

“I agree. So my point is to set your own standards. If doing a particular act with someone bothers you, then don’t do it, but if you decide otherwise, do it on your terms, not someone else’s.”

Trish said, “You must think like this otherwise you wouldn’t be with the two of us.”

“I do. Our threesome violates all sorts of strictures of society, various churches, and probably half our neighbors, but who cares. I have warm and loving feelings for the two of you, and I’m not going to overthrow those because someone else tells me to.”

Trish smiled, “What are we violating? I’d like to know.”

I chuckled, “OK, for starters Pam and you make love, and lesbianism or bisexuality is considered a sin by a lot of people and it’s written about in the Bible too. Then there’s my relationship with you two, that’s polygamy, and although it’s considered immoral by many, it’s only illegal if I try to marry you both. Let’s see, cunnilingus is illegal in Florida and Indiana, so I guess we can’t do that anymore. Oh, of course, we all fornicated, and we know that’s a sin since we did it outside marriage – along with just about every adult in the world at one time or another.”

“Thank you. Now, will you feed me and then fornicate with me again before Pam arrives so I can have my lesbian fun with her by feeding her your cum from my well-fucked single pussy, maybe while I eat her pussy here in Florida, and you fuck her out of wedlock while the three of us get married?”

Pam was wiped out when she arrived. She’d been working intense deals all day long, confessed to committing two hundred million dollars to a couple of deals – highly stress producing, had barely eaten, and was on edge. She found Trish and me naked and in bed watching television. We were ready to go to sleep. We’d made love again after we returned from dinner, and then lay down and this was the result. Pam hadn’t eaten. We turned off the TV, fed Pam some of the leftovers Trish and I had brought back from the restaurant we’d gone to, and then we slowly stripped away her clothing.

When Pam was as naked as we were, I had her lay down on a flannel covered waterproof pad on the bed. We turned on some of her favorite Celtic music on Pandora, and I got some massage oil. Trish and I gave her a forty-minute massage, which turned her every way but loose. Pam kept saying, “Thank you,” and praising our touch of her body, but she just lay on the bed in a soggy pile of glowing naked female flesh.

Towards the end of the massage, I winked at Trish and she got my message instantly. We were going to shift from relaxing massage to sex play. Pam was on her back with her eyes closed, glistening with vanilla flavored massage oil in the dim light of the bedroom. A sexy Chris Botti song was playing. We both ran our hands up her thighs, each of us ending simultaneously with two fingers in Pam’s pussy. Pam groaned and spread her legs apart even further as our four fingers fucked her in unison.

I gestured to Trish, “Go ahead. Eat her pussy and go to hell ... or an Indiana jail.”

Trish smiled at the reference to our earlier conversation about acceptable behavior. That didn’t stop her from opening her mouth wide, and then latching on to Pam’s entire slit with one huge gulp with her tongue extended to tongue-fuck her friend and lover.

Pam groaned at the contact and opened her eyes to gaze at me. “Bring you cock up here.” She gestured to her mouth with one finger, indicating that she wanted to suck on me. I wasn’t about to turn down an offer like that.

“Yummy,” Pam said, “You taste like Trish’s pussy and cum.”

“I think you’re destined to get some more of that, at least according to what Trish was saying before you got here.”

Pam worked on my cock for a while, restoring it to a ‘10’ on my hardness scale. She then said, “Will you guys switch places? I want to suck on Trish, especially since I hear you have a present for me. I also want Bob to put this monster in my cunt.”

Trish and I moved around Pam. Trish lowered her pussy to Pam. The first thing Pam did was to put some fingers inside her lover to try to extract some of my man juice. Judging from the sounds of the two women, she was successful. I sank into Pam, and started a nice slow and sensuous fuck with a pillow under her rump and her legs over my hips. I paid a lot of attention to her clit with some fingers, and shortly got the reward I sought, an orgasm for my love to top off her massage.

We continued like that for another few minutes and one more orgasm. Trish adopted a new position during that time so she could lavish kisses on Pam and adore her breasts. After Pam’s wrenching passion, we both stopped, and kissed her tenderly. I carried Pam into my large shower stall and Trish and I washed off the massage oil from her body. We dried her, and then carried her to bed.

Pam said in a languid way, “You didn’t cum.”

“I think I gave it all at the office earlier. Don’t worry, I’m very happy I was able to bring you pleasure. We’ll catch up later, maybe tomorrow.”

Pam sounded remorseful, “It won’t be tomorrow morning. I’ve got to get up at six o’clock and hustle into the office again to finish what I started. I may have a rare opportunity in the British film industry, but I’m inundated with data and projections. Their financials and accounting are different from ours. They...”

“I’ll set your phone to wake us up. Don’t worry, we’ll have our time together.”

Pam realized she was getting cranked up about work; not a wise move if she needed some sleep. She said weakly, “OK. I love you.”

“I love you too. We love you.”

Trish chimed in, “I love you both.”

Pam chose to spoon into Trish, and I came up behind Pam, wrapping the two women in my arms as best I could.

The next I knew Pam’s phone alarm went off at six in the morning.

The next month went by amazingly fast. The three of us adopted a rotation between our homes moving every few nights from one of our homes to another. Trish and I had condos, whereas Pam had her small house. It was fun, but one drawback was that when we misplaced something we couldn’t remember where it might be. The rotation let each of us be ‘at home’ at least a few days every now and then.

During the month, I flew back to Los Angeles for three days of interviews and meetings with my new client, and a touch base day with the other client I had on the west coast. All my other work time was spent writing site-specific programs to integrate into their technology infrastructure that would reduce the probability of getting hacked in various ways, or closing other vulnerabilities including a hidden backdoor I found in their system code. Following that trip, I was on the red eye home to Tampa Airport, but I didn’t meet anybody that I wanted to bring home to share. I actually slept on the flight home.

Before leaving on that trip, I had teased Pam about what might happen on my red eye back to Tampa when she wasn’t with me. Of course, she reacted with appropriate angst, but I kissed that away in short order. I did promise that if I met anyone interesting I’d bring him or her home, and I’d made it sound like a sure thing to tease her.

Pam flew over to London the last week of the month to meet with her new contacts in the film industry over there. She took pleasure in having the upper hand, because, as she put it, ‘I’m the broad with the money – about a hundred million, for now, and more where that came from if we get good returns.’ She’d done her homework, but at a price of occasional exhaustion that Trish and I tried to reverse. We kept reminding her of work-life balance. As her deal unfolded, I learned of Pam’s ability to focus on something with great intensity – a strength and a weakness. When she put her spotlight on something, it withered and gave up every iota of information about it to her so she could master and control it.

She also teased me about meeting someone on the flights over or back to Europe that she’d bring home. I started rattling off a list of criteria for that person until she gave up and kissed me.

Right after Pam got back from the U.K., my best friend Jon called me up and invited me ‘and a date’ to a cookout on Saturday evening at his gorgeous home on Casey Key. Jon and his wife Amy were back in Sarasota after spending fourteen months supervising the construction of four large homes on the east coast of Florida near Boca Raton. I had worried about losing touch with Jon and Amy, but knowing they’d been out of the area for such a long time explained our lack of communication.

Jon was an architect who was highly sought after for high-end dwellings, often by movie stars or business moguls. These were the kind of homes that cost tens of millions to build and had every amenity known to mankind. He also was extraordinarily handsome, and looked like one of the older men in a Dolce and Garbbana advertisement. Jon wasn’t quite forty. I accepted his invitation and told Jon I’d be bringing two dates. He asked if there was a story there, and I laughed and said ‘Oh, yes.’ Tell you when we meet.

Saturday, we were at Pam’s house for the weekend. Trish and Pam spent an inordinate amount of time getting ready to go to the casual event, fussing over their hair, which outfit to wear, shoes, and then over the dishes they’d decided to bring as part of the ‘informal’ cookout – potato salad and a key lime pie. I planned to bring wine.

We drove down to the key in my SUV, arriving right at five o’clock, as requested. Jon’s wife Amy met me at the front door of their beachfront home with a knock-my-socks off kiss right in front of my two girlfriends. I even got a little tongue, and that was a first. Amy and I had flirted before, and even kissed somewhat seriously, however, we’d never had a French kiss until that moment. Amy looked very pleased with herself when we broke apart. She must have missed me.

I introduced everyone, and then as we got into their modern beachfront house, Jon appeared, tanned, hair tousled but in a way that heightened his attractiveness, and reeking of sex appeal. He greeted Pam and Trish with polite kisses and welcomed them into the house. I watched both girls follow his every move after that; he had that kind of magnetic charisma.

Jon and Amy walked us to their back patio overlooking the beach and the Gulf of Mexico. The relationship between Pam, Trish, and me still hadn’t been explained, and I kept getting looks from our hosts seeking some kind of further explanation.

I finally burst out laughing because their curiosity was so palpable. “I’m in love with these two women,” I explained. “And ... besides loving me, they love each other. We’re a threesome.”

Pam came close and let me put my arm around her. She gave me a peck on the cheek. Trish lay her head against my other shoulder and adopted her ‘cute’ look that included an adoring smile looking up at me.

That confession broke the dam on the conversation, and soon there were almost more conversations underway than there were people. Amy bonded well with Trish and Pam, and predictably the women headed off for some kind of powwow in the kitchen with the excuse of preparing the hors d’oeuvres.

As the women disappeared from the outdoor deck, Jon said, “You guys serious?”

“Sure seems that way. We’ve only been together six weeks, so we’re still learning about each other and how to live together in a threesome. We’ve been rotating homes too so we get to be ‘at home’ once in a while yet with the others.”

Jon thought a moment, “Would you want to live for a while in a waterfront residence – say for the next six months?”

“Hell, yes. Tell me more.”

“I have a English client who owns a new megahome on Bird Key – brand new. It got finished while I was on the east coast. The couple is now away for the next six months – maybe more, and asked me to find a house sitter for them. It’s one of my smaller projects, and it’s only a year old – it’s gorgeous and meticulously decorated. It’s only five miles from here, and that’s why I took the job. I think they’ve only lived in it about four months last season before their visa expired.”

“Could I see it?” I thought and added, “I might like to use it as a surprise for my new partners, if you’re willing.”

Jon smiled, “I get it. Now, start telling me the nitty-gritty about making it with those two foxes, although I might give you some pointers.” He laughed. I knew Jon was a swinger of some kind, but somehow I’d never gotten the details; I think there’d always been others around, like Reese, who wouldn’t have appreciated that recreational activity. I wondered how she’d feel about swinging now that she was coming out of her sexual shell.

Years earlier Jon and I had the kind of open friendship where we held back little, and it felt good to reestablish that level of friendship with him now that he was back in town, and we were in a situation where we could talk frankly. I knew more about his relationship with Amy than she’d probably like. The result was that I gave a detailed revelation about how Pam, Trish, and I got together, and what our sex life was like. We were still having sex many times a day, a point that made me exceptionally happy and that piqued Jon’s curiosity even further.

After about twenty minutes of our chat, the three women rejoined us, carrying trays with munchies on it. We also got refreshed glasses of wine. Of course, with us all together the whole nature of our conversation changed, this time to our jobs, lives, and travels.

I noted that Pam seemed to have an extra fascination with Jon. She talked at length about his projects, their location, his style of architecture, the design principles he used, and his philosophy about residential interiors on large residences. I listened in to their conversation to hear him describing a twelve thousand square foot residence he was in the process of designing for an Italian count. The property was near Daytona Beach instead of Italy. After a while, Jon offered to show Pam his office and some photos of his work. She jumped at the chance, and the two of them disappeared into the house for a while. I smiled inwardly wondering just how far the pair would take their flirting.

Amy, Trish, and I chatted. Amy was an attractive blonde who had worked in a law firm as a clerk before she took a leave of absence to go with Jon to the east coast for over a year. She and Trish immediately bonded around their law careers. Soon, I heard discussions about law schools and the various legal specialties they each found desirable work areas.

As the computer geek, I didn’t get asked too many questions mostly because my answers were often obscure. I did have great facility with computers, and many times had ‘fixed’ some problem with Jon or Amy’s PCs. Since the question hadn’t come up, I assumed that all was working well.

After about thirty minutes, I got up, poured myself another glass of wine, and wandered into the house to find Pam and Jon.

I found them in Jon’s home office. They were standing next to his high-top desk wrapped around each other and kissing quite passionately. I gave a little cough as I came in.

Jon looked worried, and Pam looked guilty. I smiled at the two of them. “Sorry for breaking in. You can pickup where you left off in a minute. In the meantime, I wanted to put in a request for our cookout to start soon. I’m getting hungry for the main meal. I believe you promised me some steak.”

Jon looked relieved, “Errr, OK, I’ll ... I ... the kisses were...”

Pam interrupted, “He kisses divinely, just like you. We were just having fun ... and getting to know each other a little better.” I think she was testing my resolve about our open relationship, because I did detect a little weakness in her statement as evidenced by her tone of voice.

I walked over to Pam and kissed her, not allowing her to disengage from physical contact with Jon. “I’m glad you like my friend. If I was a little less homophobic I might kiss him myself.” That remark made the two of them laugh, and fully defused my encroachment on their intimate moment. I nudged the two of them together and then strolled out of the room.

I wandered back through the house, noting some new art in the living room signed by Amy. I went back out and asked Amy about it, ending up impressed, as it was a large painting that she had done in her spare time – a dramatic impressionistic picture of waves and a sailboat against a stormy sky.

“I didn’t know you were an artist.”

“I’m not, or rather I wasn’t until three months ago. A friend over on the east coast encouraged me, and even got me to go to a painting class. I’ve done eight paintings so far.”

“Show me.”

Amy stood, just as Pam and Jon returned to the deck. Trish opted to stay with them, so Amy led me inside.”

Amy proved to have a great natural style with her acrylics. She’d taken over a spare bedroom that I think was meant to be a changing room for the pool. The walls contained her other seven other pieces.

Amy turned to me, coming inside my personal space. “Bob ... will you kiss me ... please?”

“With delight.” I bent over and took Amy in my arms and we shared a very meaningful kiss or two or three. Soon, we found ourselves really making out and panting in our ardor.