Chapter 1

Looking back on it now, it's clear it would have never happened had we not been high. But that didn't mean my wife or I looked back with regret. Even though that phase of our life was long past, we still find excitement in the memories, which leads to me telling the story here. If it still turns us on, then perhaps you'll enjoy it as well.

We were young and dumb, as we like to say now. Just a few years out of college, and married only slightly longer, we both had excellent jobs in a thriving, cosmopolitan city. Just the two of us, we had a nice house, nice cars, nice friends, and didn't want for much. Our sexual appetites were still on the rise, and it was the crank that pushed them to the peak. Crank is what we called it back then, and though it's still a popular drug, the names I see in the paper are much different now.

Don't get me wrong here. We weren't heavy drug users. Open minded and willing to explore new things, we learned about crank through some mutual friends at a party. Besides offering endless energy to our already energetic lifestyle, we learned that night that it greatly enhanced our sex life. The effects were multiple; I could stay rock hard for hours, my wife couldn't keep her hands off herself, she seemed to have a limitless capacity to climax and our inhibitions were greatly reduced. It was that last item that made the difference, and led to events that I'm certain could not have happened otherwise.

Serious about our professional lives, we limited ourselves to indulging in crank to about once a month. We had seen how it took over people's lives, and we didn't want to let that happen to us, but we could not resist the sexual intensity that resulted from crank use. It was simply too much fun. So once a month or so we'd take a three day weekend and we'd let ourselves go. On those weekends it wasn't unusual for us to be naked for hours, even days. As I said I could literally maintain an erection for hours, and with my big cock my wife was in heaven. She would spend an hour two in blissful anticipation, teasing me and teasing herself, as she worked her way up to a serious fucking. One of my favorite memories of those times was summed up by my wife one night, as I watched her lying naked on the couch masturbating herself to the umpteenth orgasm, when she informed me that she was helpless and simply could not stop touching herself. It was something I loved to watch.

With both of us already possessing a bit of an exhibitionist streak, the reduced inhibitions from the crank weekends expanded the scope of our adventures. It was not unusual to have my wife in public wearing only a simple dress and nothing else, which mixed well with her inability to keep her hands off her own body. Similarly I rarely wore underwear, and she often had me out and hard in public settings. It was during this period that I first saw my wife naked in front of some of our friends, when she instigated a skinny dipping incident with herself and several other wives. She also flashed strangers during this time, jerked me off in front of a few people, and we made love in a number of daring places. Just writing about it now brings back a flood of good memories; it was fun.

But the night I am compelled to write about took things to a whole new level for us, and though it was more than twenty years ago, it was a night I could never forget. For this was the night I first had sex with another guy. I had known since college that my wife was turned on by the thought of two guys getting it on, though we rarely talked about it. However, the moratorium on the topic ended when the crank entered our life. On our long weekends, at least one night would be dominated by this theme, with my wife teasing me about having sex with other guys, and with me joining in just to see her masturbate wildly at the thought. At first it was awkward, since it was not something that truly interested me. I was bound by the morals of my upbringing, and simply believed it was wrong, which up to this time had been enough to prevent me from thinking about it seriously. But now each time it came up, it got easier and easier for me to help her indulge this fantasy. She loved to talk about me sucking cock, and she went wild with desire whenever she described scenarios where I was being fucked in the ass. Even though to this day I find I am instinctively inclined towards denial, to be honest I must say that I began to be intensely aroused by these sessions, even to the point of looking forward to and initiating them.

The natural progression of such fantasies led to her sneaking into public men's rooms to suck me off, all the while encouraging me to imagine it was another guy, and to her fucking me in the ass with a dildo. Just like my never ending erection when we did crank, I found that my capacity for anal stimulation was nearly insatiable, the feeling of having my ass filled more pleasing than I could have ever imagined. One of the best memories was my wife fucking me senseless on the beach with her dildo as I lay naked on my side in broad daylight. We were near the dune line, apart from other people, but it was still highly risky, and when I finally erupted in orgasm, my come fired clean up to my face in one huge blast.

As I said before, what eventually happened could not have occurred without the crank, but when looking back it was easy to see it was the further progression of our behavior to that point. Ultimately it was my idea, though I did not realize it at the time. In a metroplex of four million people, there were bound to be numerous places well known as cruising spots for those seeking to satisfy their urge for non-conventional sex, and Hemingway Park was just such a location. It was common knowledge the park was used by gay and bi-sexual men looking to liaise with other guys. So it was inevitable that I brought it up during one of our wild nights, describing to my wife in lurid detail exactly what I would do for her if she drove me to Hemingway. And thus I suppose that it was inevitable that she would eventually do it.

On the fateful night it happened, I never saw it coming, which I suppose is usually the case. We had been working ourselves into a sexual frenzy since well before dark, and I distinctly remember after the sun went down my naked wife on her hands and knees on a lounge chair in the backyard, one finger in her asshole and two up her pussy, rocking back and forth as she came over and over. When I stepped up behind her and shoved my rock hard cock in place of her probing fingers, she squealed with delight and continued her seemingly endless string of climaxes. I held my position and watched as she worked herself on my cock, getting herself off time after time until she finally collapsed, begging for mercy. Even though she had slipped a dildo up my ass, which felt incredibly good this night, I still had not come, so she made it up to me by using her mouth to cleanse all her juices from my manhood. But then she got a gleam in her eye, and pulled away without finishing the job.

A short time later, we were in the car, the top down as we sped along through the warm night. At her urging, I wore only a tee shirt that was a size too small, and a pair of cut-off sweat pants that she had made for me. They were of thin grey material and cut very, very short. She drove with one hand, using her other to keep me semi-hard as she steadfastly refused to divulge our destination. Dressed as I was in clothes not particularly suited for public consumption, I found I was both excited and nervous. We had been to Hemingway Park once before, shortly after we moved to the area, at the time not knowing its reputation. We were almost to the entrance when I realized what she was up to.

It would be easier to say that I was shocked and uncooperative when I realized what she was doing, but the truth of the matter is the realization sent a surge of excitement, albeit nervous excitement, through my body. My cock swelled of its own accord under my wife's hand, and she gave it an appreciative squeeze. Up to this point we had merely shared a fantasy of man-on-man sex that I had come to enjoy as much as she did. But the pattern was always consistent. A day or two later, after the crank was cleared from my system and I was thinking clearly once again, I rationalized that it was only fantasy, and I reaffirmed my belief that it would never actually happen. It was always comforting to reassert my heterosexuality.

This particular day we had been flying high for hours. The crank was more potent than usual, this batch having a slight pink tint that we had never seen before. We had added in a couple of shots of tequila each. So we were feeling loose and excited, and hours of intense sexual activity without release had me charged up and eager. In the coming week I would look back and wonder why I didn't fight this harder, and in the coming years I would come to rationalize, as I'm doing now, that being high as a kite was a key factor. But the simple fact is that deep down I never truly regretted what took place.

However exciting I may have found the idea of what my wife was up to, as we turned into the park I was overcome with anxiety, intensified by how high I was. I knew why my wife had brought us here, but I did not know if she truly meant for something to happen, or if she was merely trying to add meat to our fantastical musings. If she truly wanted something to happen, I didn't have a clue how to go about it. Another possibility was that she was testing me, and I didn't know if actually going along with the implied intent of being here produced a passing or failing grade. Further, though I was intrigued by the idea, I was in no way certain that I was willing to take sex with another man from the realm of fantasy to reality.

All these uncertainties raced through my head as we made the turn. Hemingway Park was not particularly large, and was more of a preserve in the middle of suburbia than a park. Set up like a botanical garden, it consisted mostly of trails through densely wooded areas around a small lake. There was an open area with a few swings and a slide by the parking lot, and a small building with public restrooms, but mostly it was undeveloped, which most certainly led to its popularity as a cruising location. As my wife pulled into a parking space, I counted eight other cars in the parking lot, but could see no other people.

We sat quietly for a few minutes, my wife's fingers stroking my semi-erect cock through my shorts, the only sounds coming from crickets and frogs, the steady ticking of the engine as it cooled, and the occasional sniffle from our drug swollen noses. With the top down and the parking lot well lit, it was as if we were on stage, and I knew anyone in the shadows could easily see us. It made me more nervous. The first time my wife spoke, I remember her words well. 'Let's take a walk.'

She got out first and came around to my door, pulling it open. I gave her a questioning look and got an innocent smile in return. I still couldn't read her thoughts. With great anxiety, I swung my legs out and rose to my feet, well aware now why she had chosen these particular clothes. Whether she intended for something to happen was still unclear, but there was little doubt that walking through this particular park in this 'fuck me' outfit was a bold move that would fuel our future masturbation sessions. Young and athletic, I was physically fit, and the under-sized tee shirt felt like a second layer of skin. My half- erect cock swung freely in the loose shorts, the thin material outlining every curve and highlighting every movement. Suddenly I felt very vulnerable indeed.

Taking my hand she led my along the first trail we came to. As we passed out of the light from the parking lot and into the shadows, she paused in the darkness under a tree and melted against me, her lips seeking out my own. It had been about twenty minutes since we had snorted up two huge lines of crank, and I was soaring. As was typically the case, all my senses were alert from the drug, and I remember the night with remarkable clarity to this day. When we paused from our kiss, I had to clear the air.

'What are you looking for?'

'Whatever happens.' She smiled mischievously. 'What are you game for?'

I smiled back before I even responded with my play on words. 'Whatever happens.'

She stood quietly for a minute, leaning in tight against me and seductively grinding against my groin. 'Then let yourself go and play it by ear.'

There it was; permission to pursue my fantasies. Or perhaps more accurately, encouragement to help make hers come true. She stepped back slightly and pulled the drawstring on my shorts, loosening the knot, then turned and began walking once more.

We had only gone a few short steps when it became apparent that the shorts were not going to stay up with the knot untied. I was holding her hand with my left, while my right was holding the shorts in place. With a chuckle she stopped and re-tied the drawstring, but left it loose enough that the shorts slipped very low on my hips, giving her the effect she was looking for. There was now a gap between the bottom of the tiny shirt I had on and the top of the shorts.

We made the loop around the lake in about fifteen minutes. The main trail was paved, and though there were lights at regular intervals, most of them didn't work. Only belatedly did I realize that the lights had been vandalized by people who preferred the darkness, and only much later would it dawn on me that the areas of remaining light were as well planned as the darkness. We had only seen two people. They were sitting on a bench on a side trail in the darkness, embracing. It appeared to be two guys, but in the semi-darkness it was hard to say for certain.

We took a seat on a bench not far from the small building. Like the other benches in the park, it was a simple flat board with no back. My wife straddled it and I did the same, facing her. My cut-off sweat pants were so ridiculously short that my cock extended out the leg opening as I spread my knees outside her own, and she immediately took me in hand, stroking me to hardness. We were not in total darkness, and she did nothing to conceal her actions.

'What if some guy is watching us right now?'

'Hmmmm.' I really wasn't sure how to answer. I cupped her unfettered breasts in my hands as she urged my cock to its maximum length.

'Would you like that?' Her arm was making a shadow across my lap so she switched hands. I knew she was trying to make my big, hard cock as obvious as she could. I didn't answer her, but I did nothing to stop what she was doing.

'Would you?'

I looked back at her, trying to read her mind. 'Would you like it?'

The look on her face told me more than her simple reply. 'Ummm-hmmmmm.'

'Me, too.' Was I saying this because I meant it, or because she wanted to hear it? At this point I still wasn't sure.

'Lean back.'

I hesitated. We had done many bold things together, but the implications here were much different than any prior experience. One effect the crank had on me that my wife loved is that I seemed to have no limits, that I would do anything. She was exploiting that knowledge here and now. I loved the feeling of her hand on my aching cock, the thrill of exhibitionism was alluring, and I wasn't like to be the first to back down. She knew this well. I leaned back as she requested, reaching with my hands until they made contact with the bench. My cock was rock hard and huge, and as exposed as it could possibly be in this situation. My head was buzzing, and the combination of fear and exhilaration were intoxicating. I didn't look around, and neither did she.

As she stroked my cock, it seemed as if the light was growing, that I was becoming more exposed with every passing second. Her free hand slipped down into the front of her shorts, and she began a breathless commentary of her thoughts. I closed my eyes to listen to her words and shut out the distraction of reality. Losing myself in the moment, her continuous string of words filled my mind. '... hope he's watching. In the shadows. His own pants around his ankles, his hard cock in his hand. He wants your big cock. He's trying to build up the courage to come to us. Oh God I hope he hurries Oh God. Oh, oh God... '

I opened my eyes and watched her climax as she stared dreamily at my cock. Then she leaned forward, still staring at my member. 'Imagine it's him.' I closed my eyes again as I felt her mouth close over my cock. She took me as deeply as she could. Her hand was trapped between the bench and her pussy as she leaned forward, and within a minute she was coming once more.

Abruptly she stopped, and when I opened my eyes I could see my cock glistening, half it's length wet from her mouth. She pulled me to her and told me what she wanted.

It took some urging from her to get me to agree, but finally I stood and she tucked my hard cock into my shorts as best she could, snickering as she looked at the tented front. Without a word I turned and walked to the restroom. It was dark and rank, the only illumination from the low wattage exit lights over either door. I tried the light switch but it didn't work. Once again I was slow to realize the dim lighting was by design not of the park managers, but of the patrons. I walked to the first urinal, thankful for my sandals, then following her instructions, I pushed my shorts down to my knees and began to pee. I lifted my shirt slightly and gave her what she wanted, my body totally naked from my midriff to my lower thighs.

I was nearly finished urinating when I heard movement behind me. Suddenly I was deathly afraid. The situation was not erotic, it was unsafe, and I cut off the last of my stream and jerked my shorts back in place, turning for the door. Looking to my right I saw someone moving from the darkness of the far stall. I pulled the door open and stepped out, the clean air refreshing and sharpening my senses, and I immediately moved towards the nearest light. My cock had softened quickly. I heard the door behind me, and turned, ready to fight if necessary.

The guy that stepped out into the light was probably in his mid-forties, slightly overweight, and balding. He wore wire rimmed glasses. As he looked meekly around, I could see right away that he wasn't a threat. Visibly gathering his courage, he walked directly towards me. When he was several feet away, I put up my hand, indicating that was close enough. My heart was still pounding in my chest. He wouldn't meet my eyes, and his words were rushed, as if he was afraid of losing his nerve.

'Hey man. Wilya suck me?'

For the first time in my life, I was propositioned by another guy, but this one definitely did not meet the standards of my fantasy. I knew my wife was watching, but I was certain she would agree with me.

'No.'

'Oh, I thought... ' He suddenly deflated, as if I had pricked him, and he looked down and quickly moved away. He looked pathetic, and I fervently hoped I didn't look the same as I strutted around this park in my whore clothes. I moved towards my wife before he could change his mind and turn back.

She didn't speak, and neither did I, but I could see the flush in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eye even in the poor light. I started to sit, but instead stepped over to some bushes and finished pissing. When I sat down my wife immediately took my cock out again.

'What did he want?' Her breathlessness gave away her excitement.

I looked her right in the eye. 'He wanted me to give him a blow job.'

Her free hand went down the front of her shorts once again. She was on the verge of orgasm in seconds. 'You didn't want to?'

'Not my type.' She nodded, and I knew she agreed. But the encounter still had her charged.

'Did he see you?'

I thought about that. Even though the lighting was dim, he had a clear view of my naked ass. It was no wonder he thought I was advertising for action; in fact I was. For the first time since my scare, I got excited about what I had done.

'Yeah, he got a good look from behind.' My ass was still well greased up from the dildo earlier, and I could feel it as I involuntarily squeezed my cheeks together. She liked my answer, and stroked my cock back to full hardness.

'Did you like it?'

'It was dark, and I didn't know he was there. So it scared me when he moved.' She was close to coming and I paused, watching her. I had both feet on the same side of the bench, so I shifted one leg across and faced her, leaning back on my hands just like before, my cock exposed. 'But now that I think about it, well... ' I lifted up my hips, pointing my cock at her lips. She kissed the tip, but that was it.