My story isn’t a common one, but it isn’t so far outside the mainstream as some of them are that claim to be true. First, there’s me:

I’m Jack. I’m forty three as I write this. I’m happily married to Carla, who is 30 years old. We’ve been married nine years. Financially, we do okay, because we both have decent jobs. When we met we both worked at the same place, but now we are in new jobs at different companies and apart during the day.

She was the most mature 21 year old I’d ever met. So I flirted with her some whenever we were in the break room together. Carla suspected I liked guys and thought at first that I was gay. I guess she may have seen me watching some of the other guys around the office but she misunderstood; I never flirted with them or anything.

One day when we were talking, she said she had several gay friends. This was before we dated. We were just friendly coworkers. I guessed correctly that she was telling me she didn’t care if I was gay.

“But I’m not gay. Carla,” I explained. “I’m bisexual.”

She just looked at me for a few seconds before shaking her head. She wasn’t saying ‘no’, just trying to shake that idea into place.

“Well, that’s cool, too, I guess,” she said, but she seemed a little more reserved suddenly. “I’ve never known anybody who ... went both ways,” she said. Okay, well, she said it was ‘cool’ that I did, so...

“Do you want to go out this weekend?” I asked her, just like that right then. She kind of shook again, but she accepted the date. To shorten this up, let me cut to the chase. We ended up at her apartment and in bed. We rang each other’s bell twice in high gear. Later, we shifted down to first gear and had a long, slow (but powerful), erotic fuck.

Carla told me that night that she had liked me at first, but she had just been thinking I was gay and that I wouldn’t really get pleasure from being with a woman. I love making love to a woman, yet I also enjoy the feeling of a hard, hot cock in my mouth or up my ass. Sometimes I crave a dose of cum in my mouth and feel it in there, all gooey warm and fresh. A little scary to swallow all at once, because it is so viscous, like thick, slightly lumpy syrup, only a lot saltier. But I like to let small globs of it slide slowly down my throat. I explained all that to her.

“Have you ever gone to an orgy?” she asked.

“Well, no ... or I guess it depends on what you consider an orgy. I’ve enjoyed group sex with a few friends; like five -- six one time. Two of them were girls.” She laughed.

“Yeah, I guess that would count. I don’t think I’d be comfortable doing that.” She shook her head, but her nipples were hard.

“Have you ever watched somebody else having sex?” I asked her.

“No, I heard my parents one night when I was old enough to realize what they were doing. I just tucked my head under the pillow.

“Now ... well, I’ve seen filmed sex – porn -- a few times, but that’s fake,” she added.

A few months passed and we went out a lot. Our enjoyment being together went beyond the sex, and the feelings grew. So, we decided to stay together steadily after we’d been to bed a few more times. She didn’t mind if I sometimes fucked guys as long as I was careful.

We had decided we’d be open about sex. We could both have outside fun as long as we were safe, and as long as we both knew where either was going and with whom.

We moved into better jobs at those different companies and we got married. We continued as if it didn’t really matter whether were married or not. Carla went on a few dates, but not often. I had a few guy friends who enjoy the sexual company of other guys and regularly met with them.

I didn’t really ask her about her dates, though, we both enjoyed it when she came home and she squatted over my face to let me clean her of their leavings inside her hairless pussy.

I, on the other hand, could offer her nothing after my dates, except a slightly cum flavored kiss. She complained that I seemed to get almost as much enjoyment from her dates as she did.

She complained so much about it that I finally asked her if she would enjoy a threesome. So a few times I brought somebody home with us to play. Carla clearly enjoyed having two stiff dicks to play with. She got off with a cock in both of her holes and two sloppy, cum flavored mouths to kiss at the same time. She made a point of always sucking the other guy off first, just to get that luscious first dose of cum.

One night she confessed a secret to me. She said that having another guy with us and watching how we made love made her curious about what it might be like with another woman. I suggested she go out with a woman, or bring a friend home some time.

“I know some of the women you work with and I have a feeling a couple of them might be interested, at least in you, if not with me.” Work parties were mixed blessings. The open bar was balanced by gathering with people you spend forty hours with every week. Your attendance was expected, though not ‘strictly’ required. Absentees, however, were always noticed.

The idea of spending my time off with folks I spent forty hours (or more) with every week with was, at least, depressing. Carla’s work parties were better for me because I got to spend some time with some attractive people of both genders that I didn’t work with. I knew she felt the same about my work parties, and though I had thought she was checking out the men, she met women there as well.

After the second of her work parties, I told her one of the single guys had sent me clear signals while everybody else drank all that free booze. He had all but said he wanted to get together with me.

“I think the only thing that held him back was the fact that we’re together,” I said. “Not that a lot of married guys don’t fool around, but he’s kind of young.” When I described him, she said she knew who I meant.

“He’s new. I think he’s only about twenty.” I was still working through my thirties at the time. “He’s cute, too. A couple of the older girls have their eye on him.” She stopped to laugh. “What if he’s gay? I mean, not bi. Won’t they be surprised?!” That would be funny, I agreed.

“Can you find out how old he really is?” I asked. “Twenty seems pretty young to learn enough about yourself to know where you fit. It was something I always knew, but a lot of guys only try gay sex when they get older and curious.

Some guys I’ve been with said ‘regular sex’, meaning with a woman, even sometimes more than one, had gotten dull, so they decided to look into sex with men. “If he’s over eighteen he’s legal, but maybe he is gay, and not bi. He was definitely flirting with me, I know that about him for sure. If I get together with him I can seduce him. I could find out that way.”

Carla looked at me a second and then she laughed. But she nodded, too. “Okay. But I know you just want a stiff young cock and a tight ass, too, you pervert.” She laughed hard after saying that. I could feel heat in my cheeks. She was right. It’s no different for me if it’s a guy or a girl, my imagination travels the same paths for either.

I imagine what they might look like naked; I wonder if they shave their pubes like I do, or let the bush grow. I wonder what they’re like in bed; what they like done to them and what they might like to do with or to a partner.

So, after Carla made her confession I named the two women in her office I would like to invite into our bed the most. “If you can find out whether one or both of them (or any other woman you’d choose) might be interested let me know and we can make a plan.” But life sent us in a different direction then.

That Friday, an old lover called me to say he was going to be in town. We’d worked together and played in a men’s softball league together for a few years before he moved away. We lived in Nebraska then and he was the only black guy on the team – or even in that town. But he was great at third base. In fact it was one night when his fast hands caught the line drive that made us regional champs that he let me know he liked cock.

We were all high on the victory and hugging each other and high-fiving was going on. I hugged Darrel ‘for his playing’, though I really wanted to feel his dick when we hugged if I could. But I needn’t have bothered trying to sneak a feel. He grasped one of my butt cheeks pretty hard and gave me a wink.

Anyway, after that he and I got together a few times, and it turned out he was also bi. “Hey, Carla,” I said, wondering how she was going to react. “That was Darrel on the phone. Remember I told you about him?”

She frowned for a second then her brow cleared. “Oh yeah,” she said. Then, “The black guy? That’s the Darrel you mean?”

“Yeah, anyway, he’s gonna be in town tomorrow and Sunday. I thought we could all get together and have some fun.”

I grinned at her and she grinned back. “I’ve never been with a black guy,” she said with a grin. “But you know what they say about ‘never going back’.”

“Yeah, yeah, never mind. It’s a racist joke, though a lot of black guys live up to the big-dick myth, and own it proudly. It also isn’t true for every black guy. Look at me!”

She glanced at my erection, but that wasn’t what I meant. “I’ve had four black dicks in me and I still enjoy white or brown or ... hell, purple dicks too, if I ever met one! But though Darrel is bigger than I am, he isn’t huge. He fit fairly comfortably up my ass, I know that.”

“Tell me,” she said. We got snuggled up all naked and Carla got the fascinated look she always got when she asked for a story from my past.

I began.

“The first few times it was slow and sporadic. Darrel and I found that olive oil or shortening is the best. Just like they work best for us. Finally I felt his balls against mine and he slapped my ass sharply. ‘There, man,’ he said. ‘Tonight you’re my bitch. Another night I’ll be your bitch.’

‘That sounds like a plan. So fuck me big guy. You got all you’re gonna get in there, I think.’

But he soon proved me wrong with a small rearranging of our positions. We had been doing doggy, but Darrel had me turn face up. Then I saw the thing that had been inside me. It looked huge right then, all shiny and greased up with the white Crisco.

“He lifted my legs over his shoulders and slid easily back into me. My hard cock bobbed between us as he pushed in, then he pushed in even more. I’d never felt anything like it. He was so deep up my ass that it felt like he was going to pop into my throat from the bottom.”

“Hmm ... you know, I know what you mean. You’ve taken my ass in those positions, too,” she said.

Carla had slid down to take my cock into her mouth. She wasn’t blowing me, just holding me in there like a pacifier, sucking gently as she listened.

“THEN he started to fuck me. He used my stiff cock like a saddle horn as he rode me. That was the way it felt. I creamed all over his hand and my belly before he came. He brought his hand to my lips and I sucked and licked it all off that brown and pink hand. His hands are big, too. I felt them grip my hips hard when he came. It was an eruption of hot spew. I’d been fucked before but it never felt that way.

“Darrel and I became steady secret lovers, and exclusive. I swallowed gallons of his semen, and it was delicious. Then he would swallow mine. But Darrel was transferred in his job. I tried to figure out a way to go with him, but without any luck. It would have meant starting all over in a new job – if I could find one. We both cried when he left.”

“Wow. So you were in love with him?”

“We were in love with each other, yeah.”

As I related all that, I could recall his smell, even more than the taste of him. I now couldn’t wait for Carla to experience it all. I wanted to watch them together, doing all the things I knew Darrel liked. Carla’s mouth got more active when she felt me thrusting my hips a bit as my imagination ran.

I wanted to inhale our three-way sexual perfume and taste both of them before, during and after they fucked. I wanted to watch her take his cock all the way in her pussy and in her ass. She could suck me while he fucked her.

I told her all that and I came with a groan. Carla swallowed it down. She slithered back up and kissed me with the last of my scum still on her tongue.

Carla was nervous Saturday morning, of course. I had told her another story about Darrel when we were together. One of the times we had shared a woman. I told her we had also had threesomes with another guy.

She was oozing, she told me, while we waited for him to arrive. “I already had to go wipe my pussy twice. I wish he’d ring the fucking...” The doorbell rang and she froze. I gave Carla a grin and all but ran to the door. She hurried to wipe herself again in the bathroom.

Darrel had no hair on his head! He’d had short curlies back in the day, but he was the absolute bomb with a shiny, bald head! We hugged and plastered a sloppy wet kiss on each other before I introduced Carla.

I saw she was impressed from the shine in her eyes. After what she’d said about being juicy, I thought I could even catch a whiff of her when she moved.

We settled with drinks and discussed our night ahead. I again caught just a corner of Carla’s scent. I know Darrel did too. A couple times his nostrils flared as we talked.

“Do you still like weed?” Darrel asked me. I’d stopped smoking it before I met Carla. I told her I had stopped when the subject came up. She smokes sometimes with friends, but she didn’t use it regularly, so we never had smoked together.

“I haven’t for a few years. I just stopped because it stopped being so much fun.” I said.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Darrel nodded. “All the stuff out there is definitely not the stuff we used to get. He leaned over and pulled a bag from his jacket pocket. “But I did find this,” he said, opening the bag and reaching it toward me. I inhaled the familiar, musky aroma that was one of the best parts of smoking weed for me. It almost got me high just to smell it.

“Let’s stoke some of that up,” I said. “Do you have a pipe?” I asked him.

“Nah, man. You always rolled the best joints. I have papers,” he said dropping the little booklet of Zig-Zag’s on the table. I smiled and shook my head. Once I’d cleaned the stems out of enough of it to roll,

I said, “I don’t know. This might take a few practice runs.” It did. I sacrificed two of Darrel’s papers before I managed to create something that wasn’t pretty, but we could smoke it. “I’m out of practice,” I laughed.

Darrel handed it to Carla and flicked the lighter to life. She took a hit and passed it back to him. He toked and passed to me. About then, Carla let out a, ‘whoosh’ along with her hit. “Jee-zusss!” she exclaimed. Her eyes were huge as she looked around at us.

I took a decent hit and tapped her shoulder. She shook her head and pointed toward Darrel. I was beginning to feel what Carla was feeling as I passed the joint back to Darrel. I exhaled and rode the roller coaster down the hill, but I was still riding. Darrel got his hit and Carla passed again so I had another hit.

When they both refused I set the small half-joint in the ashtray Carla had found somewhere. Nobody said anything for a few minutes. Then Darrel noticed my stereo. “You still using that antique?” he asked. It was my old turntable and amplifier. I have kept it up for decades. It was getting harder to find needles and drive belts. I have several spares of both. I loved the old vinyl records I’d collected over the years.

“Music!” I said loudly. It was about all the verbal skill I had at the moment. Darrel’s weed was powerful. It almost felt like an acid trip starting off, but it didn’t get into the real hallucinatory feelings.

I looked through my old vinyl albums and picked out Big Brother with Janis wailing and crying out her pain. It was always great. I turned it all on and started the disc. A flip of the switch and the arm raised to swing gracefully to the starting point on the record.

Carla had moved over next to Darrel on the couch. I sat back in my chair and listened – both to the music and to the conversation. Carla works in software and Darrel had a lot of programming experience, though he had moved into some solar project now. It was the reason he was here.

So most of their conversation was about their shared work stuff. But Darrel was also keeping Carla amused as they got to know each other. They included me too, but the energy I was feeling was between the two of them. That was good. We laughed and she kind of slapped at Darrel’s bare leg, mid-thigh, where his shorts ended. He would nudge her with his shoulder as they joked.

My eye drifted to the unfinished joint. I split a paper match as a clip (what they used to call a ‘Jefferson Airplane’ due to its shape and the name of the band before they became ‘Jefferson Starship’) and lit the joint.

Carla took it and hit it hard, Darrel did the same. Then I did, and the joint had become a roach. I offered it to Darrel. He pinched it out of the clip and swallowed it. Yes, children. That was the way we used to do it back in the old days.

Suddenly I was hungry. I rustled around in the fridge and came out with a few things and in a half hour we were milling around the kitchen, spooning various things I’d heated up. “This is great,” Darrel said. “You were the best cook of anybody I ever slept with,” he glanced at Carla when he said that, but she smiled and nodded.

We stopped eating and Carla called Sandy for the scraps. Sandy was a scruffy, medium sized mutt we’d adopted. She had sniffed Darrel over well when he arrived and approved by retreating after a round of pets.

I changed the music (Cream, with Ginger Baker and Eric Clapton) and we all sat on the couch digesting our ‘dinner’. But it was July. So sitting shoulder to shoulder soon became a steamy discomfort. “Okay,” I said, extricating myself from the left side of the trio. “It’s too fucking hot to wear clothes,” I said and stripped out of my shorts and tee shirt. I never wear underwear.

Carla slid off the couch next and simply pulled her sundress over her head. Darrel grinned and stood up. He tugged his shirt over his head and dropped his shorts. We were all naked and it felt great.

I watched as Darrel and Carla checked each other out just as I checked Darrel out, my mouth watering at the sight of that dark, semi-erect dick. I guess I haven’t described us much. This happened a few years ago. At the time, Darrel was 32 and about six feet tall. I’m 5 feet eight. Carla is just a bit shorter than I am. We were both in our early thirties too.

As a field engineer, my work kept me in good enough shape to save on gym memberships. Carla spent a few hours every week at her gym, but she isn’t a fanatic. She loves my cooking so she is a very curvy woman, and I love that.

Darrel spent time setting up solar arrays in hot places. He is very cut. I remembered how sensitive his nipples are. I couldn’t wait to double team him with Carla.

We ushered Darrel out the sliding door into our sanctuary. The fencing around our yard was seven feet high. Just inside the cinder block wall was a thick hedge of Pyracantha that we had trained to grow up beyond the top of the fence. The thorny leaves were a deterrent to any ‘peepers’ that might want to spy on us.

First though, just outside the sliding doors, was the humid greenhouse where we grow exotic plants and some vegetables. Through the door to the yard, was the main part of our retreat.