Chapter 4

Hi! I’m Michael. Not “Mike,” please. Just “Michael.” The girls call me “Mike” but they’re privileged.

One thing you’ve got to know about me right away. I’ve got a really high libido. Always have, ever since I can remember. My teen-age years were hell, and college wasn’t much better. I’d have to go back to my dorm room or the library and jerk off every afternoon, because the morning and evening cums just weren’t enough for me. But now that I’m in a relationship with two women who wouldn’t mind having my cock in them at least twice a day, things are a whole lot easier!

Jessie has asked me to tell my side of the story, and how I got involved with the two most wonderful women in the world. I’ve been reluctant to do so, since I thought they pretty much covered it in their own stories. But the girls say that I could give a slant to it that they couldn’t, since I’m a guy, and guys always bring different expectations into a relationship than girls do. I wonder if that’s true. Yeah, we guys are horny all the time, but these women are just as horny as I am, in their own ways. And men tend to put women on pedestals, and I’m as guilty of that as the next man. Jessie and Claire really do belong on pedestals, though. My only danger as I tell this story is that I’ll portray them as more perfect than they really are. They did a good job of portraying me as I am, warts and all, and I don’t know if I can do the same for them. But I’ll try, anyway.

I married too young. That’s the first thing. I was in my second year of college and was going out with a girl named Kay. (Yeah, we got a lot of jokes about “Michael and Kay” like we were the Corleones.) Well, we were each other’s first lovers, and she got pregnant after our second fuck. So we got married right away, and I changed my major from art to business so I could start making money and support a family. I was lucky enough to get a job right out of college, because one of my economics professors knew a guy who ran a company that was making machinery, and the guy hired me and put me in the purchasing department. That’s how I met Jessie.

I’ll start with Jessie because, while Claire was the first one I had sex with, it was Jessie I knew first, and -- to be honest -- the first one I lusted after. I always had a thing for Asian women and, even though Jessie was only half Japanese, she fit the bill well enough, with her eye folds and her dark, straight hair. And she had a figure to beat the band, with all the curves in the right places, on full display when she wore those tight summer dresses that showed them off. Those dresses were knee-length, and there was enough shapely leg to make me wonder what the rest of her leg looked like, and what she had just north of there. When I saw her in the accounting department of the factory where I worked, I had a hard time keeping my mind on the job. I had to visit her office at least once a week to get an approval from her boss for a big purchase, and those visits were always the bright spots in my day.

It was common knowledge that I was already married and had a son, so I knew that there was no possibility of a real relationship. We flirted a little, and I got a chance once in a while to sneak a peek down her blouse and glimpse a bra cup, and even a bit of tit if she wasn’t wearing a bra that day, but that was as far as it went. All I really knew about her was that she was foxy, single and had a pretty good fashion sense. And she was witty, smart, and fun to be with. To be honest, when I was fucking Kay, or when I was masturbating alone, I was often thinking of Jessie.

Then my life, such as it was, started to fall apart. My son Kyle got cancer, and we lost him when he was six years old, fighting to the last. Kay and I couldn’t have another child, since I’d had a vasectomy shortly after Kyle was born, and Kay figured that one kid was enough. “One and done,” you know. And we decided that we’d had enough of Wilmington, and wanted to move to the New York City area. So I Found a job with a chemical manufacturing company in Newark, New Jersey. I’d been buying stuff from them for years, and I knew their product line cold, so it was an easy transition from purchasing to sales. And I had a reputation of being easy to work with, so they were glad to get me, even at a higher salary than I had at Progressive.

Kay got a job with an advertising agency in New York, but it didn’t last long. The job and the company. I knew from the start that it was under-capitalized and didn’t have much of a chance. But then Kay had an offer from her old company to be part of a new office in Philadelphia. And that’s really what put our marriage into a crisis.

We’d been drifting apart since Kyle died. It’s a story you’ve heard before, I’m sure. Kay and I got married before we knew each other well; we were really little more than kids, now that I think back on it. She got pregnant with Kyle before we were even engaged, so it was really Kyle who was the reason we got married in the first place. When he was gone, so was the bond we’d had. We’d talked about adopting a kid, but she was against it.

And we realized that we weren’t in love with each other anymore. I mean, we’d tried, but our tastes had changed, and we wanted different things out of life. And frankly, our sex life wasn’t good. I wanted to try some of the more exotic stuff I’d read about, but she was into vanilla sex, and not much of that. She saw sex as something to use to make children, and not for pleasure. (I realized later that she might have had that attitude all along, and could have lied about being on birth control when we met.) And now that I couldn’t make children with her, there was no reason for sex. So our sex became less and less frequent, and eventually died out altogether. We had a long talk, and a good cry, and decided that it would be better if we parted ways. The situation had become intolerable, with my high libido and her non-existent one.

So she moved to Philadelphia, working for her old employer in a new office, and wouldn’t you know it? She fell in love with a co-worker there, and they got married, and she had a kid eight months later. From her past record, I guessed that her pregnancy was the reason they got married. Some people don’t really change. But, hey, she was getting what she wanted out of life.

I was happy for her, but it wasn’t doing me any good. And the “swinging bachelor” lifestyle wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I’d dated a few women, but never slept with them. Maybe I was pushing them away, not wishing to go through the ordeal of a relationship breaking up again, because the breakup with Kay made a wreck out of me. But I also started to realize that I couldn’t be happy in life without a real relationship, and that it was time to start taking chances again. I was masturbating three or four times a day again, but this time it was even less satisfactory than it was when I was a college student.

At the art museum, there was a traveling Salvador Dali exhibit that I wanted to go to. I was always an art buff, and kept an interest in it even though I’d ended up in the business world. And now I had a chance to see Dali’s original work, rather than just reproductions. So I jumped at the chance.

I saw Claire there. She was thin and tall, with shoulder-length blonde hair and the most arresting blue-green eyes I’d ever seen. She was sizing me up, somehow, and I wondered why she was looking at me. Had we met before somewhere? I didn’t think so; I would have remembered those eyes. So I got to talking with her, and she knew stuff about Dali that I didn’t know, and I found myself in a deep discussion with her about one of the paintings. From that, we got to talking about other things and, before I knew it, she asked me out to a bar near the museum.

She wanted to know my life story, and I told it to her. Everything, including the marriage, the vasectomy, Kyle and the divorce. She listened carefully and made all the right comments, and I realized that I really wanted to know this woman better. All the same, I never thought I had a real chance with this woman, with her astounding beauty and amazing fashion sense. She probably eats guys like me for breakfast, I thought, and then goes home to her billionaire Wall Street boyfriend.

And then it was time for her to tell me her life story, and I was amazed. It would be an understatement to say she was “sexually experienced.” That slim woman told me she’d had dozens and dozens of lovers, of both sexes. She’d never had a steady relationship, for various reasons. But I got the impression that she was at the same stage in life I was, where she was looking for the right person.

She asked me, point-blank, if I was in a sexual relationship now, and if I wanted one with her. I told her that I didn’t have much experience with sex ... Kay was the only woman I’d had sex with, in fact. “Well, then,” she said, “if it isn’t good sex, it’s my fault, not yours. But let’s give it a try. No strings attached. If the chemistry’s there, we may have something. If not, what have we lost? Nothing!”

So off we went to her apartment, which was small but exquisitely furnished. The artwork on the wall showed me that she had great taste and a lot of money to spend on just the right painting. The place had a bathroom with a huge tub, which turned out to be a hot tub as well. And a really big bed. She started taking her clothes off, and told me to do the same. As her blouse came off, I saw she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her tits were small, barely-there swellings with pink gumdrop nipples on half-dollar size areolas. Then her slacks and panties were off. I saw her pussy, the second pussy I’d ever seen that wasn’t in a picture. It was so different from Kay’s. No hair at all, puffy outer lips, and inner lips that hung down maybe an inch from her crotch. I couldn’t help but stare.

I heard her saying, “This is what I’ve got.” From the quiet, careful tone, I guessed that for many men, those lips were a turn-off, different from all the perfect pussies they’d seen in pictures. But to me, they were beautiful. “I’ve got to touch those,” I thought. “Touch them, and taste them.” All those erotic thoughts, from years of reading porn, came back to me. Here I was, standing naked in front of the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in the nude. Everything in my body told me to touch her, kiss her, hug her, fuck her...

My cock was swelling, hardening. It knew what it wanted, I thought. And she knew it, too. I reflected that this was maybe the thousandth hard-on she’d seen in her sexual career, but if she was thinking that, she didn’t show it. Instead, she reached for it and touched it. When she drew her finger away, a strand of my pre-cum followed it. She licked it off her finger and smiled.

That cock was ready to gush, and she knew it. So she took it into her mouth and licked the cap, and just like that, I came. She was ready for it, and slid the cap all the way into her mouth and captured my jizz as it spewed. Kay had only done that a couple of times with me, before we were married, and she’d spat out the cum right away. But Claire didn’t spit it out.

Instead, she did something I’d only read about. She stood and, locking mouths together, gave me tongue that was slippery with my own jizz. I was tasting my own sperm for the first time, from the mouth of a goddess.

All I could think of then was that this was the first time in my life that I’d cum in Claires’s mouth, and I’d blown it. I’d jizzed like a horny young guy who’d seen his first porno. No control at all. I’d failed her.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to cum so fast. You’re the first naked woman I’ve ever seen that wasn’t my wife. And you’re so goddamn beautiful! I couldn’t help it!”

“Don’t worry,” she answered. “I was flattered! But you’ll last longer for the next one, won’t you?” she said.

“I’m going to damn well try!” I replied, and then I started laughing, and she was laughing with me. And she gave me a reassuring hug and a smile, and I knew that everything was going to be all right. There would be a next time. I knew that, with her experience, she wouldn’t steer me wrong. She would bring out all the talent I had as a lover, and crank up all the allurement she could generate to make it happen.

“Claire,” I said. “Can I taste your pussy? I want to do that. Kay never let me.”

“I was counting on it!” she said. “Let’s go to bed.” And she gave me my first lesson in cunt-eating. Having no experience, I just did what she told me to do. I was fascinated with those “curtains” as she called it. I sucked on them, rolled them around in my mouth, and traced their folds with my tongue, exactly as she directed. The taste was intoxicating, like honey and musk and perfume and God knows what else. She pulled back her clitoral hood and there it was, a bump the size of a small grape. “Suck it,” she said. “Suck it good!” And I did.

And then she asked me to finger-fuck her. I’d read enough about that to know how to put my finger in her cunt, and what to do with it. I admit I was flailing at first, trying to find that magic spot that I’d read about. She saw what I was doing somehow, and guided me to its location, and told me how to tickle it. Not ten minutes later, I was rewarded by the sight of that slim, beautiful body shuddering with an orgasm, the first I’d seen in a woman in a long, long time. There aren’t any words for how beautiful she looked to me just then, her pale, thin body flushed and pink, and her blue-green eyes now smoky with lust.

By then, I was hard again. She told me to lay on top of her. She spread her legs wide, and I felt my cock pressed hard against her mons, and my balls touching her quim. Rocking her pelvis forward and grabbing my cock, she guided it past those beautiful folds of her inner lips and pressed its cap against her entrance. “Fuck me, dear,” she whispered. I slipped it in, an inch at a time, marveling at how tight she was, how much tighter it was than Kay’s. God, she had strong Kegels! When I was all the way in, she gripped it and I swear to God, I felt it milking my cock. “Fuck me, fuck me,” she chanted. I started moving in and out, in time to her chant, and we did the slow, stately dance of love.

We were both sweating, my hairy chest sliding against her small boobs, crushing them. I was so grateful for my earlier ejaculation, because now I could last long enough to satisfy her. And somehow I did, and our orgasms came at the same time. (Later, I realized that she’d been timing her own orgasm to sync with mine; she was that good at controlling her libido.)

We laughed together and kissed. When she asked me “Are you hungry?” I suddenly realized that I hadn’t had anything since a light lunch. “Give me a few minutes. I’ve got a dinner for two in the freezer. All I’ve got to do is thaw it out.”

She got up and walked into the kitchen naked, not even bothering to put on a robe. A half an hour later, we were at the table, sitting nude on towels, eating lasagna, garlic bread, and a salad, accompanied by a very fine red wine.

“This is an amazing wine,” I remarked.

“At ninety-four dollars a bottle, it should be!”

“Is this that special an occasion, or do you drink this all the time?”

“Well, it’s definitely a special occasion, but that’s what I usually spend on wine.”

“What are you, a high-price call girl? This wine, this apartment, that bed...”

She laughed. “Actually, I’m a banker. I’m making pretty good money ... as Willie Sutton used to say, banks are where the money is! I have expensive tastes, and it’s nice to be able to satisfy them. I have expensive tastes in men, too. How much are you asking?”

“Only your heart, dear. And a meal like this, once in a while.”

“And nice hot fuck, too! I’m ready for another. Are you?”

“You know, I am! Two cums already, and I think I have another one ready to go! I’m halfway there now!”

“Well, the hot tub should be ready by now. Have you ever fucked in one?”

“I’m afraid not. You’ll have to show me how to do it.”

And she did. We soaked for a while, and then she sat on the edge, spread her legs again, and pulled her curtains apart to expose a hole still oozing with my cum. I penetrated her and gave her the most strenuous shagging I could, leaving her shuddering with an orgasm. Her climax was enough to push me over the edge, and I pumped another load of cum into her as the swirling warm water bathed my balls.

“Eat me now,” she gasped. I pulled my dick out, dropped to all fours in the tub, and put her entire cunt into my mouth, sucking my jizz out and plunging my tongue into her depths. That was something else I’d never done with Kay, tasting my jizz straight from a cunt. She came again, loudly and wetly, and spasmed like she’d been hit by a bolt of lightning. “Oh, oh, oh...” she moaned. She hugged me, and together we immersed ourselves in the water and locked our mouths together once more.

We got out and dried each other off. She threw a towel down on the sofa and we sat there nude, watching a soft-core porno on a huge-screen television. That got us horny again, and when she felt my dick, I found myself with my fourth boner of the day. “Let’s take care of that, dear,” she said. “I know just where to put it!” So off to bed we went for one last shag of the day before we went to sleep.

We made love again in the morning. I came in her twice, and twice she insisted on me “cleaning her up,” as she put it, with oral sex. I had no qualms about that, since her pussy juice combined with my jizz was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted, made even more delicious by the orgasms I was inducing in her every time. Between fucks, we had a light breakfast, and then we fucked a third time before our libidos were spent. We dressed and spent the day walking in the park, eating lunch from a push cart and necking on a park bench. And then she asked me to spend the night again. And when she asked me to move in, I was in no mood to argue, because I had fallen in love with this woman.

She was a tiger in bed! Within a month, I’d done nearly everything I’d read about in the pornos. We’d used every position in the book, and one or two that were in no book I’d ever read. I gave her anal sex, reaching around her body to pinch and tug at her nipples to send her to the moon. And we even experimented with light bondage, either with me getting tied to the bed and teased to a “ruined orgasm” or with her in bondage, arms and legs tied to the bed posts as I used a riding crop on her cunt and tits. She’d fuck herself with a cucumber or a carrot and then chop it up into a salad, and jerk me off over the bowl to mix with the dressing, which we would eat in bed.

She’d beg me to cum on her tits and lick the jizz off them after she’d worn it for a while. There was literally nothing she wouldn’t try. I really had doubts that I could satisfy that raging libido of hers. And when we were at home and not fucking, she’d still be naked and teasing her tits or her quim with her fingers, just to keep her fire going. And she’d insist on having my cock at least half-hard as often as it could, and give it admiring glances the way Kay never would. My self-confidence soared.

But this cozy situation all came apart when I had to go back to Progressive for a sales call a few months later. It seemed only polite to ask Jessie out for lunch. We caught up on each other’s lives, and when she asked me out to dinner I thought nothing of it. But it was obvious from the way she’d prepared herself for the date, and the way she came on to me afterwards, that she had something else in mind.

I was kind of in shock. Here was this woman, a woman I’d had a crush on for years, now hitting on me! If it hadn’t been for Claire, I’d have been on her in an instant, but now I was torn. When we went back to her apartment after dinner, it was clear from the way she’d prepared for the date that she wanted to fuck me. She never looked so beautiful, with a dress that displayed every curve of her beautiful body, a neckline that promised all sorts of delights, and a fuck-me-now perfume that lashed at my senses. And I wanted to fuck her, too. But I apologized to Jessie and said that I wasn’t available, and I told her about Claire. She said she understood, gave me a rather chaste kiss, and sent me back to my hotel.

I was in a turmoil. Claire had never said that ours was a monogamous relationship, but my love for her was now so deep that I didn’t want to do anything to upset her. And now I had this raging urge to fuck Jessie, to give her the sexual satisfaction that she wanted and needed. I went to the hotel bar, drank more than I should have, went back to my hotel room, and masturbated, thinking of Claire and Jessie, fantasizing a threesome. But it didn’t really help.

After I went home, the first thing I did was tell Claire what happened. To my surprise, she told me that if I wanted to have a sexual relationship with Jessie, I should go ahead and do it. “Go wherever your heart takes you,” she said. “You’re almost a virgin, you’ve only had two women in your bed. You need to know more about the wide world of sex, so go ahead and fuck as many women as you want ... men, too ... as long as they’re clean and you don’t bring anything bad home with you. But I want you to be absolutely honest with me. Don’t do anything behind my back, and I promise I won’t do anything behind yours. I’m telling you right now that if I have the hots for a man or a woman, I’m going to screw them. That’s part of my deal. Is it okay with you?”