Beyond New Year's Day

by Al Steiner

Copyright┬ę 1999 by Al Steiner

Erotica Sex Story: Sequel to New Year's Eve. It's now the next morning after a wild New Year's Eve and the two couples must face what they've done. Their vows to never do it again don't last very long, nor do they stop them from progressing to the next level of the relationship.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   .


The next morning I was very hung over. I've had worse morning's after in my life, but not too many. I was awakened to the sound of little Alex, Michelle and Mark's younger child, crying for her mother. Before I even opened my eyes I knew I was in bad shape. My head throbbed rhythmically with the beating of my heart, my mouth was as dry as the Sahara, and my stomach felt as if a can of Drano had been poured down it.

"Mommy!" I heard the insistent cry from the direction of our younger daughter's room. It wasn't one of mine, I knew. After a moment's thought I remembered that Mark and Michelle's kids were staying with us. That thought brought with it a vague sense of embarrassment and shame that seemed related to something that had happened last night. What had I done?

"Oh Jesus," a voice moaned beside me. It wasn't Stephanie.

I opened my eyes, wincing at the bright light in the room and turned my head to the left. Beside me was Michelle, her hair tattered, her bleary red eyes looking at me. Only her head stuck out from beneath the covers.

"Oh my God," I mumbled, remembering what had happened last night and early this morning. We had started in the living room and had eventually ended up here, in my bed. We had fucked, sucked and enjoyed each other until probably close to 2AM while Stephanie and Mark had presumably been doing the same in our guest bedroom. I could taste her vaginal juices on my lips even now. I had vivid recollections of her cramming her tongue as far up my ass as she could physically make it go. I remembered frantically searching through the master bathroom for some form of lubricant, finally finding some baby oil, so I could fuck her up the ass. I remembered coming in her ass while she'd screamed out her encouragement in the most guttural language imaginable. What had we done?

I could see many of the same thoughts going through my best friend's wife at the same moment I was thinking them. "This is uh..." she said softly, "... kind of an awkward moment, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "How much do you remember?"

"Everything," she sighed. "You?"

I nodded.

"Well," she shrugged, embarrassed. "What can you do?"

I shrugged back.

"I guess the four of us are gonna have to sit down and have a little talk," she opined.

"Yep," I agreed.

"Mommy!!" came little Alex's voice once again. It seemed near tears now.

"I'd better go get her," Michelle told me. She started to get up and stopped as she noted I was still looking at her. She blushed. "Would you mind uh... looking the other way while I get up?"

"Sure," I said, understanding.

Within fifteen minutes we were all up and dressed and all obviously feeling like shit for more than one reason. We could barely look at each other, could barely talk to each other. What had we done to our friendship? To our marriages? Could we recover from this?

We fed the kids breakfast, all of us nearly puking over the smell of eggs frying. Once their hunger was taken care of and they went off to play with each other, we sat down at the dining room table, the flashpoint for last night's sordid festivities, and discussed the matter. We'd been very close friends for a very long time and after an awkward beginning, the discussion moved along nicely. We agreed not to let what had happened affect either our friendship or our marriage. We agreed to never, never, never, discuss what had happened either with each other or with other people (you couldn't begin to imagine what we would have endured had our colleagues at Seattle PD gotten hold of this story). Most of all we agreed never to let it happen again. We gave our solemn oaths.

We did okay with most of the promises. We didn't let it affect our marriages or our friendship and we never discussed it at all. Steph and I carried on with our routine sex-life, as did Michelle and Mark. We continued to get together anytime the four of us all shared a mutual day off. At first the get-togethers were sedate, without much drinking going on. We all seemed nervous about consuming alcohol since it had been the catalyst for the New Years Eve encounter.

But gradually things returned to normal. We began drinking more at the get-togethers. Our standard raunchy talk picked back up (although we were careful not to mention the events of that night). And then, I suppose it was inevitable, one drunken night, after the kids were in bed, we ended up playing a game of strip poker. Michelle and I lost and, as a penalty, we were required to screw each other on the dining room table. Once again I retired with her to my bedroom that night while Steph and Mark took up residence in the guestroom.

The next morning we had another discussion. This one had more honesty attached to it. We all admitted that we liked the spouse-swapping activities as a means of variety. We agreed that, as long as all parties were in agreement, we would continue to do them on the nights of get-togethers. We agreed that only at the get-togethers would such activities take place. From then on we were happier people. We stuck to the rules and I got to screw Michelle once a month or so while my wife got to screw Mark. Our marriage became, if anything, a little stronger from this; we now shared a deep, black secret that we kept from the rest of the world. For ten months this went on. And then things changed once again.

Mark's father lived in northern Montana. Each year during hunting season Mark and I usually traveled there to do a little deer and elk hunting with Mark's old man. It was a tradition I'd come to enjoy immensely even if we were unsuccessful in our hunts. This year however, Steph and I had taken out a second mortgage on our house in order to put in a redwood deck, a hot tub, upgrade our landscaping, and pay off some credit card debts that we had. Out of state hunting tags in Montana are outrageously expensive. That, coupled with the lost time that Steph would have to take off work in order to cover my childcare obligations would have put a little too much of a ding in our suddenly shaky financial picture. With almost painful regret, I had to decline the hunting trip for the first time in five years. Mark commiserated with me but of course didn't hesitate to go off by himself anyway. He left the third of October, planning to be gone for three weeks.

Since Michelle and Stephanie worked the same shift out of the same station, I was incorporated as a babysitter for Mark and Michelle's two children during their working hours. I didn't mind. I loved their two kids like they were my own and my own two children loved having them come over every day. The only drawback was, since Michelle and Steph worked swing shift, which ran from 2PM to Midnight, Michelle's kids would have to be put to bed at our house, awakened when Michelle got there, and then driven across the city to Michelle's house at one in the morning. She put up with this for only two days before it was decided that she would simply stay the night in our guest bedroom during workdays in order to ease the burden of transfer. It made for a slightly chaotic atmosphere in our suburban house during the two women's workweek but it was tolerable.

Steph and Michelle worked Tuesday through Friday. On Friday night, at about 11:30 PM, while all four kids were asleep in their respective bedrooms, I was awakened from a sound sleep by the telephone that sat beside my bed. Blearily, without opening my eyes, I groped for it, finally locating it by feel. I put it to my ear.

"Yeah?" I said crossly.

"What are you so pissy about?" I heard my wife say in a cheerful voice.

I creaked my eyes open and looked at the clock. "You woke me up," I told her, no humor in my voice. "What's up?"

"You grump," she accused lightly, then said, "Michelle and I are gonna go over to The Chambers for a few drinks. Just wanted to make sure you knew."

The Chambers is a cop bar located a few blocks from the station where they worked. "Cool," I answered, not caring about anything but getting back to sleep. I had to be to work the next morning at 6:00. "Just remember you got kid duty tomorrow."

"I remember," she told me. "Love you."

I muttered a 'love you' back and then slammed the phone back down. Within a minute I was sound asleep once again.

The sound of our automatic garage door opening woke me up sometime later. I opened my eyes a crack and glanced over at the alarm clock on my nightstand. 1:58 it read. They'd stayed a little longer than two drinks worth at The Chambers I thought fleetingly before closing my eyes once again. Before I could drift off, however, I noticed that my bladder was uncomfortably full. I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed and walked to the master bathroom to take a leak.

As I was standing at the toilet, dressed only in my birthday suit, peeing contentedly, the bedroom door slammed open. I glanced over and saw Michelle come staggering in, making a beeline for the toilet I was currently using. So intent on her target was she that she didn't even notice me standing there until she was well inside the room. When she did see me, her eyes widened in frustration.

"Shit," she barked. "You would have to be using it right now."

I wasn't terribly concerned with the fact that I was standing naked before her. After all, she'd seen me naked more than once. Once you've had someone's tongue stuck up your ass, it's hard to be modest about mere nudity before them. "Why don't you use the other one?" I asked.

"Steph's using it," she said, fidgeting around. I could smell the odor of alcohol wafting off of her in waves. "She dove in there right from the garage. She had to pee worse than me I guess. Would you hurry up?"

I let the last of my piss dribble out and then shook myself off. I flushed the toilet and stepped away from it. Michelle unbuckled the fanny pack she wore and tossed it to me. "Can you stash this for me?" she asked, unbuttoning her pants and dropping them right before my eyes, treating me to the now familiar view of her blonde bush. She slammed the seat of the toilet down and plopped herself onto it. She had barely settled in before the sound of pee gushing into the toilet reached my ears. "Ahhhh," she moaned.

I took her fanny pack, which was heavy with the weight of her off-duty gun, and carried it into the bedroom, setting it up high on our television stand, well out of the reach of inquisitive children. As I turned around from this action I found myself facing my wife, who also smelled strongly of alcohol. She had a drunken smile on her face and with her right hand she reached out and grabbed my dick, which was still flapping in the breeze.

"Hey, baby," she said, caressing me. "Glad you're up. I need some of this."

"I have to get up for work in three hours," I told her, though I was stiffening at her touch anyway.

"Wrong," she said, starting to jack me now. "You have to 'get up' for work now. I want some dick, baby."

"Oh God," said Michelle from the bathroom doorway. "I thought I was gonna burst. Don't ever let me leave a bar without peeing first, Stephie." She stopped, looking at where my wife's hand was and the state of my cock. "Oops, I'm sorry. Guess I'm interrupting."

"It's okay," Steph giggled. "It's not like you haven't seen it before anyway."

I raised my eyebrows a little at this. By unspoken consent we never discussed our get-together activities with each other except when they were actually occurring. Steph had just violated this unwritten rule. Probably because she was drunk.

"Well yeah," Michelle stammered, somewhat embarrassed. "Well, I'd better be hitting the rack." She gazed almost longingly at my cock in Steph's hand as she started for the door.

"It's too bad Mark's not here," Steph told her, letting go of me and unsnapping her own fanny pack. "You've got to be at least as horny as I am."

Michelle gave her a sour look. "Sure," she said. "Rub it in. You go ahead and get yourself some dick. I'll just borrow a cucumber or something out of the fridge."

"You don't have to do that," I offered. "My dick's big enough for two. And it's not cold either."

I had just been joking, the same raunchy humor we typically displayed. But Michelle paused, eyeing my dick once again. "I don't think Stephie wants to share tonight," she said regretfully.

Steph tossed her fanny pack up high next to Michelle's. She looked at the two of us while she reached for the hem of her sweater. She shrugged. "I don't mind," she said. "But I get his cock in me first. You can sit on his face while I fuck him if you want."

"Really?" Michelle and I asked in unison, unsure if she was joking or not.

She pulled her sweater off, revealing her bra-clad tits. Though she was feigning disinterest in what she was offering, I could see that she was definitely aroused at her suggestions. Her chest was flushed and covered with goose bumps; ironclad evidence of extreme horniness. "Why not?" she asked, reaching around for her bra clasp. "I'm always willing to help out a friend in need."

"What about Mark?" Michelle asked, now displaying arousal signs of her own. Her voice, though protesting, lacked conviction. "I not sure he'd like the three of us getting it on while he's away."

"Well," I said, adding my two cents. "I guess it's his tough luck for going hunting while the rest of us stay home."

"Besides," Steph said, removing her bra and dropping it to the floor. Her nipples were standing out proudly. "We can repay him once he's back. You don't mind, do you?" she asked me.

"No," I said quickly, willing to agree to pretty much anything at this point. They were talking about a threesome. Every man's dream. I wanted in.

"I find you make a good point," Michelle said, reaching for the hem of her own sweater.

Steph kicked off her shoes and socks and then dropped her pants and panties to the floor. My wife is very petite, standing about 5'-5" and weighing in at a hundred and twelve pounds. She keeps herself in good shape, running twenty miles a week and, like always, I enjoyed gazing upon her naked form which was marred only by the stretch marks on her abdomen from childbirth. She pushed me back to the edge of the bed, forcing me to sit while she kneeled down on the carpet and took my cock into her mouth. Steph is an accomplished cocksucker, one of the few women in the world it seems that actually likes to do it. She bobbed softly up and down on me, using strokes and techniques she knew I liked.

As she did this I watched Michelle undress. Her sweater and bra were already on the floor, revealing her large tits. Her nipples, nearly twice the size of Steph's, were also standing erect with arousal. Michelle is a big woman, though proportioned nicely. She stands nearly six feet tall and though the potential for fatness is undoubtedly in her, she keeps on top of it with the same twenty miles per week running schedule. Though not as accomplished a cocksucker as Steph, she had a near-obsession with being fucked in the ass; something that Steph and I never did after one failed attempt early in our marriage. She dropped her pants and panties and walked naked over to me.

While Steph continued to slurp and suck on my cock, Michelle sat next to me on the bed and put her arms around me. Our mouths came together in a deep, tongue-slurping kiss and I felt her large, alluring body pressing against me. With my left hand I stroked her tits, gliding softly over her nipples. I trailed my hand downward across her abdomen, which was marred with a set of stretch marks too, and through her thick nest of light brown pubic hair. I dipped my fingers into her folds, finding them very wet and warm. She sighed as I inserted two fingers and began to bang her softly.

Steph pulled herself off of my cock and stood up, continuing to jack me softly with her hand. When Michelle and I broke our kiss, she leaned forward and put her lips to mine, picking up where Michelle had left off. She probed with her tongue while pushing the two of us to a horizontal position on the bed. My fingers were still moving within Michelle's drenched pussy. With my other hand I reached out and touched Steph's smooth upper thigh. I moved northward until I reached her nest of curly black pubic hair, which was far less dense than Michelle's was. I found that my wife was quite wet herself as I softly began to finger-bang her too, matching rhythm with the hand inside Michelle's body. While Steph kissed my lips, Michelle put her mouth to my neck, sucking and biting on it gently. The experience of having two mouths working on me simultaneously while my two hands were in separate pussies is beyond description. Like many men I'd fantasized about such things before, usually while jacking off, but even the most vivid and detailed fantasy does not do justice to what it actually feels like. Feeling female flesh pressing upon you from two directions can make you believe that there really is a kind and benevolent God.

Steph broke our kiss, giving my lip a lingering suck as she pulled back. She straightened herself up and then lifted her leg, passing it over mine so that she was straddling me. She moved her crotch forward, forcing my hand to break free, and then inched it up until it was against the head of my cock. She rubbed me through her wet lips for a moment and then sank down upon me, driving me in to the hilt with a wet squish. I sighed at the exquisite sensation of sexual congress.

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