Chapter 10

CALIFORNIA PERMITS ONLY one spouse although it does not specify what genders the spouses must be. There was never a possibility Sarah and I could marry Fred, so we decided to have a party and declare our love but not bore the guests with endless sermonizing. We were careful about the guest list. We live in a permissive culture but we saw no reason to rub anyone’s nose in something he or she would prefer not to notice. Many of our guests at Sarah’s and my wedding also came to our “Fred” party. I won’t go into detail, no need for that, but suffice to say there was food and drink and dancing and skinny dipping in our pool and hot tub.

Discretion prohibits me from going into other details about what went on in corners of the garden and the shallow end of the pool, but an extra-special time was enjoyed by some of our guests. Sarah and Fred and I had some steamy hugs and kisses, but we mostly, mostly, managed to keep our hands more or less in proper places.

OK, Fred in front of me and my erection solid against her and my hands covering her booblets as we danced probably exceeded the bounds of propriety, but no one cared. And someone’s cock between my buns later on, well, let’s skip that for now, too.

A week or so after our ceremony we lay on the grass, Fred between us.

“Remember when I first checked out your cupboards after you guys told me I was responsible for cooking? ‘What the f-- do you guys eat, anyway,’ I said, right? Remember that?”

“Ungrateful bitch,” Sarah responded.

“Cow,” Fred answered.

“Titless wonder,” said Sarah.

Fred kissed Sarah and rolled over to kiss me.

“Yes, I was.” She looked down at herself after we broke our kiss. “Still titless, too.”

Fred turned back to Sarah. From Sarah’s expression I was pretty sure Fred had a gleam in her eye. Fred renewed her kiss. Without seeming effort she half-mounted Sarah, her thigh against Sarah’s sex. The difference in their heights was apparent. Fred began to move on Sarah in a relaxed rhythm. She had one hand on Sarah’s breast, I could see that, and Sarah’s fingers around Fred’s back pressed into Fred’s smooth flesh. I decided I wanted to be part of this. I moved over to sandwich Fred.

“May I join you, ladies?” It’s always better to be asked and not risk a haymaker. Sarah punches hard. So does Fred, despite her petite frame.

Two giggles and a snort answered me. I took that for a “yes” and placed my renewed erection between Fred’s cheeks. She spread just enough for me to enter her and push myself home. Fred didn’t stop her rutting on Sarah. It took a thrust or two for me to work in counterpoint but I’m pretty fast on rhythm and we were off to the races.

I reveled in her warmth, her heat, her wet. I managed to get my hand in between the women to press and palm Fred’s breast and pinch her nipple. She was petite enough I probably could have captured both if I’d tried, but we were well along in our sweaty hard-breathing heart rate-increasing journey. I reached my climax before either of the two women. Once I popped out of Fred she increased her pace and came with Sarah’s thighs clamped between her own.

Fred broke their kiss and Sarah loosened her death grip. I saw Sarah grin. “Yeah,” she whispered.

Fred slid down Sarah’s body, Sarah is big, full-figured. Not fat. She’s tall and she’s got muscle. Full breasts, strong thighs. I know Fred doesn’t weigh more than one-ten. She’s barely five feet tall. Sarah is a little over five-nine and probably around one-thirty-five or one-forty. So it wasn’t painful or unpleasant for Fred to maintain skin-to-skin contact as she positioned herself between Sarah’s thighs with Sarah’s red tight curls in front of her.