Chapter 5

I was unloading some seed with Rick over at his place a few days after the wedding.

“Is that Isabel going to be staying much longer?” Rick asked.

“I dunno.” I grunted, heaving another sack. “She said something about filming starting next month in Madrid, so I guess she has to go by then.”

“I don’t trust her.” Rick said. “There’s something weird about that woman.”

I nodded my agreement without offering any more information.

What was I going to tell my church going friend, neighbor, and father in law?

That his only daughter seemed more interested in watching me do it to Isabel than doing it with me herself? That we were having wild three-way sex every night?

I loved Amy, and despite all we had done together, I still didn’t care for Isabel. I wished she would just go back to where she belonged and leave me and my new bride in peace.

Besides, those two women were wearing me out; I have to work in the daytime, and being “up” half the night takes a toll on a man my age.

“It doesn’t seem right to have her staying with you.” Rick persisted, “She is ... was...”

“Amy’s lover?”

Rick grunted; he didn’t talk about that type of thing, especially regarding his daughter. But I knew he’d been pretty unhappy about Amy living with Isabel in Europe.

I went back across to my house at around 5:30. I hesitated at my own front door; what would be going on in there, I wondered? Usually, they were just hanging around in the evening, talking or cooking. But once or twice...

Well, one time I found them in the bathtub together. Not really doing anything much, just cuddling in the warm soapy water, my wife playing with her girlfriend’s breasts.

Another time, they were in the bedroom, and Amy had her face in Isabel’s crotch.

“Hey babe! Come join us!” my wife had said.

But by the time I’d had my shower they were watching something on TV.

I took a breath and pushed my door open. I admit I did try to avoid excess noise. Hell, they knew I’d be home at about that time, but it was fun to sneak up on them.

There was a roast cooking in the oven, but no one downstairs, so I went up to the bedroom.

They were both in bed, waiting for me.

Dark haired little Isabel wore a white gauzy negligee, her hot curvy body tantalizingly visible through the thin fabric, the hem just covering her doubtlessly shaved groin.

My long legged wife wore fine mesh black net stockings, a garter belt, and a black satin half bra that left her nipples exposed. Her hair must have been just brushed, it was shining and golden on the pillow, the smooth glossy yellow at perfect contrast to her girlfriend’s gleaming black; her long lean strong body in contrast to Isabel’s small delicate frame.

Isabel had her head on Amy’s shoulder and her hand moved lazily across Amy’s flat belly.

Amy smiled at me hungrily and opened her long legs in silent invitation.

“I have to have a shower.” I told her.

“Be quick.” She suggested needlessly.

I was, but when I came out the two of them were already pretty into it.

Isabel lay on her back in my bed with her knees up and spread, while Amy’s blond head, already converting to tangles, was moving around between her thighs. I stood and watched them as I finished toweling myself. Isabel looked at me and smirked proudly. She knew I was jealous of her, and she liked to rub my nose in the fact that she was having sex with my bride regardless.

I was pretty sure she didn’t like me anymore than I liked her; yet neither of us could refuse sex with the other.

Despite how deeply I loved Amy, and how much I resented, nearly hated, Isabel; the fact was that sex with Isabel was more exciting than with Amy.

Of course that bothered me a lot, but I knew she had to leave for home soon; with a half a continent and the Atlantic ocean between us, I was confident there would be no more conflict. Life would slow down to a more normal, sustainable pace.

I stepped over to the head of the bed, and offered the bossy little Spanish woman my stiffening cock. She reached out a hand and took it, teasing me with her fingers as my sweet wife continued to lick her greedy snatch.

She looked at me with her dark sexy eyes, and her exotic lips stretched into a tight smile of triumph. She had us both in her hands, she was taking us over.

She opened her mouth and took my cock in. we looked at each other, our battle of wills totally in contrast with the pleasure we found in each other sexually.

Isabel couldn’t get enough of me; she went wild for my cock, in her hands, mouth, or vagina. As if she was trying to catch up on all the years of hetero sex she’d missed, I thought sometimes.

She liked to kiss, cuddle, or just lay back while I gave it to her good and hard.

Yet the rest of the time, when we weren’t doing anything sexual, she was sullen and bitchy with me.

Amy, in contrast, was my angel; her eyes always lit up as they saw me, her smile was always there for me.

Anyway, there we were, me standing by the head of the bed as Isabel sucked my cock and Amy licked her out, and she was coming within a few seconds.

I watched her angular, beautiful face. Her big dark eyes, her fine little hands clutching at my wife’s head and the shaft of my cock as she wallowed in her orgasm.

As Isabel’s contractions passed, Amy lifted up her face and got up onto her knees, then came over to kiss me.

She put her arms around my neck, her big young breasts just touching my chest, and she beamed at be happily.

For Amy, I’d do just about anything, I thought to myself. I’d even do her sullen sexy girlfriend.

We kissed, my wife reeking of her friend’s sex. She pulled away. Isabel had let go of my cock and was kissing Amy’s thighs.

“Come on, Isabel needs it!” Amy bubbled, and pulled me by the hand into our bed. Getting behind me, Amy took my ready rod in her hands, and pulling at it, while pushing with her hips against my ass, brought me unerringly into her girlfriend’s waiting crotch.

My cock slid into her lubricated passage without any difficulty. Well, not physical difficulty anyway.

Amy laughed cheerfully as I went to work, ramming Isabel relentlessly. My wife moved around and lay down alongside her lady lover, and they kissed as Amy stroked her face.

They looked into each other’s eyes rapturously, and for a brief time the depth of their feelings was revealed.

I wondered; did Amy love me that much? As much as she loved Isabel?

What was love anyways? A bonding process between two people. The forming of an alliance. Perhaps leading to a pact [marriage for instance] of mutual care, even the sharing of wealth.

We sealed our love with sex; mutual pleasure, a private, shared experience.

So why in hell was I copulating with Isabel? That had me confused.

She started to come again after a minute, looking into Amy’s eyes.

The oven timer rang downstairs.

“I’d better go look after dinner.” Amy said, “You guys have fun, and come down when you’re ready.”

She hopped out of bed and pulled a robe on as she went out the door.

I was on top of Isabel, my cock stiff inside her, her hands on my waist. She looked at me blankly.

I realized we’d never had sex without Amy in the room.

“You don’t like me, do you?” She asked.

“Not really.” I said, and gave her a couple of strokes.

“I don’t like you either.” She said, asking for more with pressure from her fingertips.

I pounded her a few more times, then stopped again. “Then why are we doing this?” I asked her.

“Because it feels so good.” She said, orbiting her hips below me, forcing my stiff rod in and out of herself.

“At first, I thought you were good looking but stupid.” She went on as I started to work her again, “Then I realize; No, you have a brain, you just don’t use it so often.”

I banged her angrily for that.

“Uh Uh Uh ... I never thought I would like it with a man, I never let a man do this to me by my own will. I also don’t know why I want you all the time; I see your jealousy when I’m with Amy, uh ... uh ... I see the resentment in your eyes, even as I take your penis in my hands, but it always gets hard anyway. And when you do this to me, I hate you, because I can’t resist you. I come, and I don’t understand why uh ... uh ... and I see the victory in your eyes when I do, and I don’t care, because I feel good.”

I fucked her, shocked at her candor. Shocked that she knew all those things, and still lay there below me, her legs wrapped around me, writhing in pleasure as I pumped her.

One thing she said struck me; allowed willingly. So had she been unwilling with someone? Raped, traumatized?

“Kiss me!” she demanded, and without thinking about it, I did.

Long and deep, our mouths locked as my cock went on, relentless, unstoppable. Until she came again.

“You bastard!” she grunted, planting her small feet on the mattress and bucking her hips upwards to meet my strokes. “Every time you make me come, I hate you more.” She claimed, “Roll over, I want to be on top.”

I was getting winded by then, I complied with her demand, flipping the two of us around without pulling out.

Above me now, she rocked her small perfect body forward and back grinding her clitoris against the base of my shaft at the bottom of each stroke, her palms pressing against my shoulders and her breasts swinging just above my chest.

“Each time, I tell myself I won’t do it again with you, that it’s wrong to have sex with a person I don’t like.” She said quietly. “Then I find myself like this again, unable to stop.”

I held her tight round ass cheeks in my hands as she did the work.

“So why don’t you just go home?” I asked her, surprised at this sudden bout of outspokenness from us both.

“To my cold bed and empty house? I am famous in my country, you might think that’s very nice, but actually it is not. I have stalkers; I cannot meet people easily, because everyone already knows me. I am always recognized. Uh ... uh ... damn your hard fucking cock!”

Her eyes closed in concentration as her jet black hair tickled my neck. I never felt the need to come when I was with Isabel, but never lost my hard on either. It was as if my dick was as confused as the rest of me about her; turned on by her sexy voice, hot body, and exquisite face. But turned off by her desire for my wife, her interference, and her bitchiness.

“Come on, Isabel! There must be people who are like you, the rich and famous crowd.”

“But I am not rich. I was a TV actress for 20 years, but they don’t pay like they do here. Now I am nothing; I have no roles to play. I am a nobody here in America, addicted to sex with my girlfriend’s husband who hates me.”

“I don’t hate you, Isabel.” I said, because for that moment, it was true.

“I don’t even like men!” she continued, as though I hadn’t spoke, “Uh, uh... “Men, with their rigid square hairy bodies and disgusting fluid squirting everywhere, always running off with the next pretty woman they see, like animals in a forest. And here I am, cooking for you and cleaning your house! I am disgusted with myself!”

She stopped, and looked down at me. My hard cock was unchanged, deep in her tight frame, but I felt a change in my heart. Her cry for sympathy did have an effect.

I ran my hands up her smooth short back, across her shoulders and neck, and held her face in my hands. She looked incredibly sad suddenly, on the verge of tears.

“Come here.” I said, and pulled her face down.

Her body seemed as light as a feather against me as I kissed her lightly but passionately. Just to ease her insecurity, to show her a touch of respect.

After all, whatever else we felt, we were lovers; reluctant perhaps, but the fact was we had shared many orgasms by that time.

I heaved upwards and rolled her onto her back again. I began to pump her long, slow, and hard. Looking into her dark troubled eyes, I felt compassion for her.

“I know you are a good man.” She breathed, “But you have taken Amy from me ... and you ... oh ... oh my god, not again!”

Her hips were bucking and her fingers clenched my shoulders as she began to come, hot and energetically.

“AHH, AHH!” she cried, uninhibitedly.

As her small body crashed and writhed below me, pinned by my cock. She came with an energy I hadn’t known from other women, not even Amy.

In the midst of her orgasm, she put her arms around me and held herself tight against me, crushing her generous breasts against my chest; her legs wrapped around my ass, and she was actually hanging from me, a few inches above the mattress, since I was still holding myself on my hands and knees.

She swung below me, striving to push herself deeper around my stiff rod, wallowing in an orgasm that didn’t seem to end.

And finally, I felt the urge; I didn’t hold back at all, I let it rip into her, the full strength of my balls working to empty myself and fill her up with semen.

It was good to finish; to call an end to our unholy coupling. My seed was my message, my victory over her. She could tempt me, seduce me, and have her fun, but in the end, I always did this to her. Because that’s what men do, because that’s the difference, Isabel! When you have sex with a man, there’s an end point. When you get slimed.

“You son of a bitch!” she hissed, dropping back onto the mattress, “You did it again!”

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.” I told her, straight faced.

I let my weight on top of her, clamped her reluctant head between my palms, and gave her a hard triumphant kiss, my cock still buried in her flooded vagina, as she struggled half heartedly to free herself.

“Hey you guys, dinner is on the table.” Amy said from the doorway.

I broke from Isabel’s mouth and twisted my head to look at my sweet young wife, the woman who should be receiving my sperm; not for dominance or spite, but to start our family.

After all, every month Amy didn’t conceive, I was another month older. I’m not a young man any more, if I’m going to be a dad, it’d better be sooner rather than later.

Amy smiled at me happily, and I realized that from where she was standing, she could probably see right between my open legs, to the point my thing was stuffed into her girlfriend.

“I’m so glad you guys are getting along so well these days.” Amy said. “Come on, or the meat will dry out.”

Amy had been pretty challenging, sexually speaking, on her own. The two of them together were pushing me to my limits.

When I got too tired, I just lay on my back and let them take turns riding me; but what they both really liked was good hard service from above.

I woke early one morning to fingers gently tickling my cock. I just lay there for a while, enjoying it. It was good to feel the affection from my wife.

I opened my eyes after a while, and I saw that it wasn’t Amy; it was Isabel, who was lying on my other side. Amy was still asleep.

In the thin grey predawn light, the small sensitive fingers caressed me. I looked at her and she grinned.

I had a sudden realization; why Isabel was so wild to have me at every opportunity. It was to keep me from Amy.

Every time my seed went into Isabel’s exquisite but older frame, it was kept away from Amy’s fertile tubes. Each month Amy wasn’t pregnant was another chance for Isabel to lure her away from me.

Yes, Isabel enjoyed sex with me, I had no doubt about that. But underneath lay a deeper motivation, a certain desperation. While she usually complained about me coming inside her [“What a disgusting mess!”], she always did her damndest to get me to do it; she would kiss me, hold me, beat me, squeeze me, even stick her finger in my ass. 3 nights out of 4 it seemed, I was coupled with Isabel for the finish.

The manipulative little woman eased down to my cock and took it in her mouth, facing me.

She knew her power; the undeniable beauty of her face. She knew from a lifetime of experience that looking a man in the eyes could get her what she wanted.

And the epitome of that look, the particular variant meaning; “Give me your seed.”

Let her have it, so she could suck it down, a few grams of protein for her belly instead of an embryo for Amy’s womb? What if I would push her away, tell her to go back to her own country, her own house, find her own wife?

Amy would wake; be upset. The truth was, I was afraid ... afraid of a show down. How could I be sure which way Amy would go? We’d gotten married so quickly, how could I be sure? Isabel lived a different lifestyle in Spain than we did at the farm. Parties and restaurants, yachts and swimming pools were her habitat. She said she didn’t have money, but she meant relative to other celebrities. She owned a beautiful seaside villa at least, and I knew she had some investments too. Not rich by the standards of her friends, but she lived a far richer lifestyle than us on our little farm in the Midwest.

So I just lay there quietly and let her suck my cock. I reached out and groveled Amy’s tangled blond head. She moaned and rolled over, but didn’t wake up to join in.

Isabel sucked harder, bobbing her head up and down so hard I thought Amy would surely wake up, but she didn’t.

Finally, Isabel lifted her face from my undefeated cock; but she wasn’t through yet.

She sat up, and rolled backwards onto her elbows. Planting her feet on either side of my waist, she lifted her tight little rear up and pushed her naked vagina against my balls, rubbing herself against me, grinning her challenge.

My dick was like wood, my wife slept on.

I took my cock in my hand and bent it towards my tormentor. She pulled back and positioned herself, then speared herself with my rod as she moved her compact body towards me again.

She rotated her hips, orbiting my rod. She sat upright on my lap, lifting her breasts in her hands and letting them fall enticingly. She rolled forward and fitted a nipple in my mouth, her hips rolling around wildly as her tight snatch gripped my manhood evilly.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Amy interjected, “How is a girl supposed to get some sleep around here?”

“Amy, get the strapon.” Isabel told her.

Something that had been bothering me for a while was how Isabel often seemed to tell Amy what to do; “Make a pot of tea, darling.” She’d say.

“Ok.” Amy would reply, and hop to it. Or, “Change the channel, this is boring.” Or “Draw us a bath.”

Anyway, like always, Amy didn’t question Isabel, but got out of bed and went into the other room [which was supposed to be Isabel’s, but actually she always slept with us].

The beautiful Spaniard smirked at me as she rotated her tight bottom around my shaft. “You have never seen this I think.” She said, her jet black hair gleaming in the first shaft of dawn coming through the window.

Amy came back into the room, her big pale breasts standing proudly before her, tangled blond hair falling half across her face as she dangled something odd in her hand.

She climbed into bed and lay down next to me, crawling close, she kissed me.

“Good morning Mr. Clemens” She said with a grin. I put my arm around her naked back and ran my fingers across her smooth pale back.

“Good morning Mrs. Clemens.” I answered her.

Isabel lifted herself up off my cock and stood above us, her feet on the mattress to either side of me. In her hands, she had the odd object Amy had fetched for her.

Amy put her head on my shoulder and stroked my belly affectionately as we watched Isabel.

It was a “strapon”, an artificial penis on a belt. The main part was completely realistic, a little bit smaller than mine. At the base, it passed through a set of straps, then angled sharply upwards. Isabel opened her shapely thighs, and as I stared up at her, she inserted that last part into the passage my cock had occupied just a minute before. She reached around herself and attached the belt around her waist, and another one underneath that connected to the first behind her. She did this with an easy, practiced motion, like you’d tie your shoes.

Well, I have to admit Isabel was right. I had definitely never seen that.

It hung in a stiff low arc in front of her, the belt around her hips and under her crotch fairly matching the color of her pale skin, so that it was barely noticeable. The thing itself sure was though, as was the grin on Isabel’s face. She was obviously very fond of it.

She grabbed hold of it and waved it back and forth, which of course caused the section that was in her vagina to move too.

“Come on, Amy, let’s show him how we do it.” Isabel said.

Amy giggled, slightly nervously. “Ok.” She said, and flipped herself onto her back, long legs spread wide. I wondered if I should have objected; but what was there to say? My wife had woke to the bed bouncing as Isabel and I were doing it, and she hadn’t made any kind of fuss about it, so how could I complain about their fun now?

Isabel bent her knees and Amy took the latex thing in her hand. It looked weird; it was so realistic, it was just weird. My wife wetted it with her mouth, sucking fake cock for a moment; Then Isabel stepped back and kneeled between her open thighs, positioned it with her hand, and gently pushed it in.

“MMMMM.” Said Amy.

“RRRRR.” Went Isabel.

I was left watching as the two of them went to it, tongues and mouths fluttering together as Isabel’s tight round ass rose and fell between my wife’s thighs, the artificial phallus making my old penis pretty much redundant.

They both came, and came again. The orgasms weren’t the scary part though; it was the way they looked at each other as they did it. The joy, the euphoria.

The love they shared.

Amy loved me, and she loved Isabel too.

That night I came in from the barn to find the two of them dressed up a bit.

Amy was in white; the shimmering long dress she married me in, her hair brushed to a golden luster, pink lipstick and matching nail polish. You’d never think this woman was doing farm work until a couple of hours before.

Isabel was in black; in four inch heels, net stockings, a very short tight skirt that few other women her age could have pulled off, and a thin slightly transparent black top.

I went upstairs for a shower, wondering what the two of them had cooked up for me, and I don’t mean food.

I came downstairs to find the lights mostly off, and the table set for two; a white tablecloth, wine glasses, and candles. Isabel was sitting at the table, waiting for me.

“Have a seat.” Amy said.

“What about you?” I asked her.

“I’m serving tonight.” She said.

I sat down across from Isabel, who was looking infuriatingly fabulous.

Aside from the fact that her breasts were teasing the eyes through her lacy black blouse, her hair was thick and gleaming black around her smooth shoulders. Her makeup was just right, and she was wearing diamonds in her ears; each one could have probably bought me a new truck.

Amy poured two glasses of wine and then went into the kitchen.

“So how was your day?” Isabel asked, teasing the wine glass with her mouth.

“All right.” I said. “Had to lay a new irrigation line and repair a pump.”

“Hum.” She said, obviously not really interested, “I had an interesting talk to Amy’s mother today.” She said.

That made me nervous; I sure didn’t want Elisa to know I was having sex with Isabel, or Isabel to know I’d once had a fling with Elisa.

“So what did you talk about?” I asked.

“Lots of things; farming, the economy, the Fletcher ranch.”

“That place? The old man is asking twice what it’s worth.”

“I don’t think so.” Isabel said.

“The fields would take three years to be put right, most of the acreage is up the mountain, and the high tension lines run right behind the house.”

“But it includes the top of the ridge.” She said.

Amy came in with hot pots on a tray.

“Tonight we have pork chops with a mustard sauce, steamed broccoli with sour cream, and potatoes au gratin.” She said as she began to fill our plates.

I felt angry; what the hell was all this? Isabel acting like my wife while my wife acting was like a serving girl.

“It’s so windy up there, everything’s blown away but the rocks.” I growled at Isabel.

“Yes exactly.” She said, taking a delicate forkful. “It would be just the place for a wind farm.”

“A wind farm!” I exploded, “I don’t want no damn wind farm on the ridge above my place! What the hell do you mean by coming here and interfering in our lives?”

I got up and stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

About 15 minutes passed before Amy came looking for me.

“I thought I’d find you here.” She said.

I was sitting at my workbench out in the shed.

“Don’t be mad at Isabel.” She pleaded, “She’s just trying to fit in.”

“That’s just the problem Amy.” I said, “I don’t want her to fit in. Now look, she’s a pretty lady and all, and we had some fun, there’s no denying that. But I thought she was going back to Spain. What’s all this about the Fletcher place and wind farms?”

“Isabel just sold a couple of rental properties in Barcelona, and is looking for an investment opportunity, that’s all.”

“Well, there isn’t much opportunity around here.” I said, “My banker says I’d be better off selling out and putting the money into mutual funds and such like.”

“We can talk about all that later; right now the dinner I made for you is getting cold, and so is Isabel. Why are you so mad? Do you feel threatened by her?”

“Maybe I do.” I admitted.

“Just because she’s gorgeous, rich, and successful?”

“That could be a good part of it.”

“Well come on inside and eat, then fuck her good until you feel better.” My sweet wife suggested.

“Shit, Amy; I can’t deny I surrendered to temptation a few times, but you’re the only one I really want.”

“And I want you too, baby.” She said, stepping up to my stool and putting her arms around me, pulling my head to her chest. “But Isabel is still part of my life. We lived together for years, I just can’t tell her to go. Come on inside, we’ll work it all out ok?”

With my face buried between her big young breasts, I could refuse her nothing.

The porkchops were cold, but were tasty anyway. Isabel sipped her wine delicately, her perfect face, long thin neck, and pert breasts teasing me; Yes, I was pissed off, and yes, I would still succumb to the temptation of her beauty.

“Are you guys ready for desert?” Amy called from the kitchen.

“Yes.” Isabel called back.

I should probably mention that ever since Amy had moved in, she’d kept the drapes tightly shut at night; just in case one or both of her folks came calling around, they wouldn’t see what was going on through the windows. And we’d started keeping the doors latched too, because normally we all just walked right in to each other’s houses like we were all family [which of course we now were].

Anyway, Amy came out wearing nothing but a smile. She cleared everything from the table, took it all into the kitchen, and came back with a tub of ice-cream and a couple of spoons.

No bowls though.

Amy took a small spoon of vanilla ice cream into her mouth, then bent to kiss me. I took her breasts in my hands, reveling at the firm soft weight of them, as my mouth was filled with the cold vanilla.

“MMMM.” Amy said, “Twice the pleasure and half the calories! For me at least.”

She took another spoonful and kissed her girlfriend, and I couldn’t help but run my finger over her naked rear end, as it was so close by.

After a few more ice-cream kisses each, Amy hoisted herself up on the table and laid down, spooning some ice-cream onto each breast. She giggled happily as Isabel and I obligingly licked it off, catching most of the melting dribbles before they found the tablecloth.

More ice-cream on her flat belly, then she started to put it between her open thighs.

Isabel and I took turns kissing Amy’s mouth and licking ice-cream from her vagina; I was surprised how good the combination [vanilla and vagina] was, but I was worried she might get freeze burns or something.

“Let’s switch!” Amy bubbled, “Why don’t you get on the table, Ken? Come on, get you clothes off!”

I had a slight hesitation, but hell, by that time we’d done all kinds of weird stuff, so this didn’t seem so outlandish. I stripped off and got up on the dinner table.

The two women started to stroke my naked body.

I let myself relax and enjoy it; it did feel good. I watched Amy’s face, her smile. She was really having fun, and that made just about anything ok.

I looked at Isabel; her face was more guarded. Why did she always have to be there, spoiling things? Sure, my cock was stiff as she played with it, her fingers on my body were exciting sexually. But she just didn’t belong here, I needed to stop having sex with her and get on with my life with Amy.

Then Amy took a spoon of Ice-cream into her mouth before going down on me.