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Passion & Perspective
copyright 2013 Chapter 7 This is a chapter of a novel. Click here to go to the first chapter |
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The sun was barely creeping above the horizon when Molly rousted me out of bed. "Come on, times a wasting, I need exercise to get my kinks out - and you and Mark put in plenty of kinks just where I needed them - and you're coming with me." "Go away. I'm going to sleep some more. I don't need any exercise." "Oh, right, you're so in shape. Wait! Is that a heart attack I hear calling? Up!" I know sometimes there's no arguing with her, so I got up, put shorts a tee and walking shorts on. At least she had coffee waiting for me. We headed for our favorite place to walk, Calm Waters county park, 340 acres of woods and riverfront only a few minutes from our house. We headed out, Molly setting a brisk pace, in a few minutes we were entering the park and found a nicely paved bike path. It seemed rather quiet this morning, so we felt free to chat. "So, how much did you enjoy it last night?" she asked. "It was wonderful. When we're making love, I can't really watch you. Oh, bits and pieces, your face sometimes, but since I'm involved, I can't concentrate. Last night, I could see anything I wanted, and it was fantastic. You seemed like you had a good time." "I really did. Mark seems like a very nice man, he had me at the wine bar, as much mental as physical. I liked the way he talked to you like you were part of it, Steve was such a jerk that way. What was your favorite part?" "Oh, definitely when you first got on top and had an orgasm. You were hot! How about you?" "It might sound strange, but when you made love to me when Mark left." "Really!?! It looked like Mark was taking pretty good care of you." "Oh, he was, he really was. But you were so ready, and I loved the way you took charge." "Do you want to see him again? I think he likes you." "I think he likes us," Molly corrected. "I'd like to, he's a nice man and a good lover, although he was pretty forceful with me the second time around." "Why didn't you stop him?" "It was easier just to let him do what he wanted, I guess. Anyway, I'm a little worried." "About what?" "A couple of things. This could get out of hand pretty easy. I wouldn't ever go to bed with a creep like Steve, but I'm thinking there are many, many wonderful men out there, and I want it to remain special, not just something I do whenever I want to, or just have any kind of an opportunity. So I'm making an inflexible rule: I will never, ever go to bed with someone when you aren't present." "I don't like that," I argued. "There may be times when I can't be there for some reason, but you might want to go ahead. How about this: You won't go with a new guy without me around, but it would be okay with someone we already know, like Colin or Mark, as long as I know you'll be there. Okay?" "Sounds good," she agreed, "you're very wise, you know." "And, in very special circumstances, I'll give you one hall pass that you can use in the next year. If you bump into someone and he really floats your boat, one time you can do what you like after you've phoned me." "I don't think I'll use it." "If you want it, it's there. What's the other thing?" "Huh?" "Molly, you said there were two things bothering you about what we're getting into." "Oh, now I remember. I'm worried about our relationship. You're the love of my life dear, I don't want to do anything to lose you. I'm concerned you'll get jealous, maybe because I'm getting too close to a guy, or perhaps you'll get mad thinking I'm screwing around but you can't." "Okay, you haven't got it figured out yet, have you? I'm letting you do this, it was my idea in the first place, and after that first time with Keith I've never felt badly about you being with another guy. Not one moment. When I saw all the positions you were in with Mark last night, I didn't think, 'oh, she's not doing that with me,' I thought, 'cool!' And as far as you doing it when I'm not, that's my choice. I get the feeling that if I met a girl, and she was willing, I'd have your blessing, right?" "I'd have to know about it in advance, just like you do with me." "Of course, that's a given. Any other worries?" "No, how about you?" "Just one - when are we gonna do it again?" I joked. This got me a playful swat on the rump accompanied by a laugh. "Not tonight though, we're going over to Liz and Stan's tonight." "I don't know, maybe Stan would like to take a shot at me." I thought for a moment, "Why do you say that? Has he said something to you?" "Never, he's a dear. And even though I know Liz thinks you're pretty good looking, she's never said anything like that. But think about it, dear. They're an attractive couple. And the best statistics I've seen say that 17.4% of the married population are doing something with somebody else, I get the feeling that it's probably higher than that. Think about that. At the yacht party next week, out of ten of the women you talk to, two of them are willing to screw your brains out. Why shouldn't Liz be a hotwife?" "I don't know," I resisted. "They're such a nice couple." "And we're not?" she laughed. "I'll bet Stan wouldn't believe he had a chance with me!" "Does he?" "No, of course not. No one we're friends with, nobody you or especially me work with. But you see my point, right?" "I guess I do." We were at our decision point, halfway into the park. If we turned around it would be a three mile walk, heading for the river would mean another mile and a half, she decided we were going to see the water. The rest of the walk I griped about my boss, she told me about her project that was going fairly well, then she bought me breakfast at Grumpy's. We worked around the house the rest of the day, getting ready for Memorial Day the next week, then had a nice barbecue with the Stonesons. Molly had ruined it for me, I kept wondering about Liz: Does she or doesn't she? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Three weeks later, Mark invited us to his place for dinner, Molly was, if anything, more eager for the return match than I was. We showed up around seven on a Friday night, it was cold for June, Mark made a salad and grilled perch he'd picked up fresh at the fishmonger, we swirled the wine in the living room after dinner, and when it was getting a little boring, Molly forced the issue by standing up and pulling her blouse off. "Any body going to join in?" Of course, both of us were ready. I was more active this time, more sure of myself, touching her without restriction during foreplay, kissing the breast Mark wasn't using, we played with her pussy simultaneously, Molly thought it was absolutely amazing, and then, when she sat back on the couch and Mark kneeled between her legs and entered her, she motioned me over and took my prick into her mouth. It was so erotic that I came quickly, getting come in her hair, but Molly didn't care, she just swallowed with abandon and kissed me. I stepped back, let them go at it, and they did four or five positions on the couch and rug. Molly came two times before Mark did. After they were done we had coffee and desert, naked like the first time, and then we drove home. Just a nice little night out with a friend, Molly laughed loudly when I referred to it as a 'fish and fuck.' Two weeks passed, Mark accepted our invitation to a sail, and he was due to come over on Friday, spend the weekend. Molly spent the whole week cleaning, redoing what the maid had already done, worrying over imperfections. This was a big deal for her, we'd never had one of her boyfriends to the house, this was a barrier to be broken. We discussed what room we should use, I finally decided by fiat that it made no difference if it was our bed, or the guest bed, or, for that matter, the grass in the back yard. That seemed to calm her down. Of course, Mark was the perfect gentleman, he brought a bottle of french wine and cognac. After dinner we sat for perhaps an hour and chatted, Mark was engaging, told a long story with a lot of inside information about a client of his, and we recognized the story was about a political scandal a few years back. Mark was, apparently, playing in the big leagues. I continued to question Mark about his business, Molly retreated from the room and I hardly knew she was gone. It was twenty minutes before she returned dressed in a negligee, a black cape that covered her shoulders, provided a nest for her breasts, a wide mesh that formed the link between them, a pair of very brief panties. "Mark, this is Don's favorite nightgown. I was wondering if you like it better on me or off me?" "Hmmm, perhaps I should answer, 'both'?" With that, Molly took his hand, led him into our bedroom, I followed. She'd lit a dozen candles, prepared the bed with rose petals. This night, she paid almost exclusive attention to her second lover, I didn't have any problem with the strategy. Mark was getting better with her, if possible, he was learning her likes and dislikes. She encouraged him to disrobe nearly as soon as they entered the boudoir, stoked his tool while standing, kneeled in front of him to give him a deep blow job. He knelt in front of her while she was sitting on the side of the bed, proceeded to give her head. I undressed, got behind and supported her. Her panties had been discarded, she was still wearing the robe, although the front was open to exhibit her breasts. Due to his diligence she came after a few moments, blowing hard through her mouth. She seemed to enjoy the idea that I was sucking her fingers as Mark was sucking the clit. When she was off her high, Mark stood, asked, "Are you ready," and when Molly simply said "Yes!" he donned a rubber, placed the tip at her opening. From my vantage above and behind her, I could see all. Mark was playful that night, first moving the live dildo to massage her entire labial area, entering a bit, then pulling out, then entering again, he thrusted a few times, pulled out, bent down, licked the sensitive area a bit, repeated his play. After four or five cycles, Molly was panting, told him, "You can play like that all night if you want, but if it was up to me, you'd get it in right now." Mark gave the lady what she asked for, deep, long thrusts that surely touched her cervix, I felt every drive push her shoulders against my chest, and when she reached culmination, she was holding my hands, our fingers intertwined, when she clenched her fist my hand was in pain. When she returned to us, she asked the man who was lancing her, "What position would you like?" "How about this?" He laid on the bed so that his lower legs were dangling, encouraged her to sit on top, facing away from him, knees to her sides, feet on the bed. This position was a stroke of genius, while he relaxed and let her do the work, I was able to approach her from the front, and we kissed, I fondled her breast, belly, and, yes, once more I played with her clit as it rose up and down, side to side. She shuddered, hard but briefly, I leaned to kiss her breast, she rocked. We kissed again, it was clear she was off her peak, and she waved me away so she could concentrate on Mark. She reached between her legs, I watched her fondle his testicles, varied her strokes to give him maximum friction, she encouraged him, "Come on, baby, fill me up." In a few moments, Mark was flaring, his body shuddering, his now-familiar call filling the air. I sat in a chair, and was a little amazed when she put her head near his groin, pulled the condom off and bent to take his wet dagger into her mouth, cleansing it, then leaning up to him, kissing him deeply. I remembered it as a technique she'd used when we were young, but had forgotten somewhere along the path of wedded life. A couple of days later we discussed it, she was worried I was upset, but of course I wasn't. But she's reinvigorated the quirk into our own lovemaking. It was late, after midnight, and Don decided he'd hit the rack, Molly made the bed for him, I presume she gave him a long good night kiss, and then she returned to me. My wife knows me, knows what I like, and she got me hard with mouth, climbed on top of me, and lying so that her breasts rested on my chest, her mouth on mine, she encouraged me to fill her as she had Mark. I willingly, joyfully cooperated. When we were done, it didn't take but ten minutes, we laid in our marital bed, the one that now had been used for happy adultery, and talked. "Are you sleepy?" I asked. "Not really." "What would you like to do?" "I don't know." It hit me. "Would you like to go into Mark now?" "Oh, I couldn't . . . it wouldn't be right . . . I don't think . . ." "If you want to, go ahead. It's all right with me. Just come back to me when you're done." She was timid, she fretted that what she was doing was improper, but in the end, she shyly climbed from our bed and walked out the door. In less than two minutes, she was back, "He's asleep," she announced a little unhappily as she crawled back into bed with me. "Don't worry," I said, "there'll be other times." We held each other until we slept, I was fitful, awaking each time Molly shifted, went to the bathroom. I was still half awake as the morning birds called the sun to work. It was eight o'clock when Molly called to me, "Wake up, dear," She had shorts and a tee covering a bikini bra. I brushed and peed and put shorts and a tee on. When I hit the kitchen Molly was at the range, Mark was sitting at the bar sipping coffee. I wondered if there had been any morning sit ups, Molly later told me the early morning was chaste. We skipped out, grabbed breakfast at Grumpy's on the way to the dock, and then the guys brought me the 24 footer we'd rented for the day. It was predicted to be a beautiful, sunny day with eight to ten knot winds on the bay, a perfect day for sailing. I took her out, we sailed around the head into the town harbor over by the college, it's something that guests always love to see, and then back out to the open water. We were sailing against the wind, progress was slow, and it took us more than three hours to navigate around Danny Point to Chicken Island. There's a marina and a casual restaurant there, we tied up and had lunch. I only had one beer, I like to have my wits with me out there, but Molly had two - one more than her usual - and Mark had three. After lunch we went back out, and it got fun. Mark took off his shirt, Molly lathered sunscreen over his back and chest, he returned the favor making sure every inch was covered, including under the hem of the bra. The breeze was off the starboard stern, we made good speed to the Danny Point Shoal lighthouse, Mark was impressed that I was able to get so close, then I turned north, we were running almost dead downwind, I was able to make her fly. We were under the towering bridge in less than forty-five minutes, Molly suggested we turn around and head back at that point. All day I'd been watching Molly and Mark, there were glances popping back and forth, hands had been thrown across thighs, if Molly moved from one side of the boat to the other she might 'accidentally' bump into Mark, to right her he might have to grab a breast! She bumped into me a few times, I got the feeling it was just so I wouldn't feel left out. I didn't mind, that's what we'd invited him for, right? On the trip back to the dock we were beating into the wind again, going was slow and for them, at least, the sailing was getting boring. But they had a solution - the Rainbow had a small cabin and an even tinier berth. They went below, supposedly to escape the bright sunshine, and while there they began to kiss and otherwise excite themselves. Before Mark removed her bra he looked to me, they hadn't closed the hatch, and asked, "Is this okay with you?" "Go for it," I vigorously consented, and go for it he did. It was a little comical watching them clamber about the minuscule space they had available, and when they had their clothes off, the only real position attainable was missionary. It turned out that Molly had a condom in her pocket, she'd either hoped or planned it to happen, and I joyously watched Mark's bottom bounce up and down while they humped. The breeze was too brisk and blew their sounds away, but I was able to see Molly's face, it was clear that she was having the ultimate fulfillment, Mark's grimace was unmistakeable. It was just a quickie, not fifteen minutes exertion, and after they'd somehow contorted themselves to put clothes back on, Mark offered me a chance at her. "Not necessary," I retorted, "Molly and I have done it on a boat plenty of times, and besides neither of you can sail." After the screw, I noticed Molly's flirting was subdued, although she still sometimes stole a long glance at her lover. When the boat was docked, we made our way to a convenient saloon where more beers were murdered, Mark and I each had five, Molly decided she'd drive us home. It was nap time, the sun and alcohol had worn us down, Mark went to the guest bedroom, Molly joined me in our bed. "Honey, I'm so sorry." "What for?" "I think I might be acting like a slut. It's just that . . ." "I know. I'm glad you're in lust. We both know this isn't going to last forever, enjoy it while you can. Don't worry about what happens this weekend, I'll be fine with it." "Really? That's so sweet of you." With that, the guilt was erased from her mind, and we slept. Three hours later I awoke, Molly was loudly snoring next to me, Mark's door was still closed. I showered, long and hot, I was thinking about watching Mark and Molly on the boat, I was stroking my hard-on, and then Molly was inside the shower with me, naked and slippery, and she knelt under the running water, took me into her mouth and brought me off. We soaped each other, paying more attention to gonads than knees, made sure we were properly rinsed. I felt between her legs, was going to knead her clit, and she protested, "I'm really sensitive right now." I wondered what it must be like for her, sharing that with two men, decided it must be quite a bit of fun. We dried each other, put clothes on for dinner, I a traditional boring slacks and button down, she a little spaghetti strapped dress, and when we went past the guest bathroom, we could hear the water running. I raised my eyebrow to Molly, she just laughed and kept walking to the kitchen, getting us both iced teas. It was twenty minutes before Mark joined us, looking dapper. We decided we were going to get hungry before long, headed for the historic center. Tourists flock to our town, it was the first one in our state, long before the revolution, but Mark had never spent any time here. We walked him past the state building, through the college, beautiful in the half hour before sunset with the ancient trees and chapel dome, then around the harbor to the business district. We decided on Italian, Molly led us to Molto Romano, we shared a bottle of crisp Orvieto wine, antipasti, entrees of pasta and risotto, coffee and a shared semifreddo. Friends passed by the table, we greeted them and introduced Mark, they certainly had no suspicions although I was aware there was still a subdued sparkle between the couple I was sitting with. We strolled the main drag window shopping, Mark stopped to analyze an antique store, Molly pulled me into a closed doorway. "Honey, I've got a big favor to ask of you." "What? You know you can have anything you ask." "When we get home . . ." she had a hard time completing the request. "You want to be alone with him for awhile?" "Yes," she admitted, "we've never done that, not with Mark." I smiled, "Of course, dear, you know I've always said you can do anything you want. Stay the night, if you want." "Oh, no, I couldn't do that. No, I'll come sleep with you." "All right, but if you change your mind . . ." She gave me a small peck on the lips. "Thank you so much." Molly drove home, I sat in the back, ostensibly so that Mark could see the sights better, but I knew what was happening. His hand traveled up her thigh, if it wasn't touching the honey pot I don't know why, I know her hand was on his lap. When we got home, I wondered which bedroom they wanted to use, I made the excuse of having to check some work, went into my office. Fifteen minutes later I emerged, the guest bedroom door was shut. I sat in the living room, it shared a wall with that bedroom, if I was very quiet I could hear their voices, I couldn't distinguish the words, I felt a series of shakings, I know I heard Molly's groans, more than once. They quieted, I decided to go to bed. It wasn't long before I was asleep, but when Molly entered the room, I roused, the clock glowed 1:37. "Everything okay?" I checked. "Very much so. Again, thank you." "You're welcome." She let me explore her body, everything felt as normal, her labia was as rounded as I ever experienced, the vaginal opening was still moist. She kissed me, opened her legs, let me probe inside, but she didn't respond adroitly, I could tell she was sleepy. Rather than press the issue, I kissed her a final goodnight, turned her on her side, away from me, and we spooned to sleep. I woke seven hours later, my bed was empty. As I walked to the kitchen to start the coffee, I heard Mark's blustering grunts through his door. I thought about knocking and joining them, decided to let well enough alone. It took forty minutes before Molly joined me on the couch, I was reading the Sunday paper, she was in a nightgown. We hugged, she whispered in my ear, "I love you so much, I can't thank you enough." I was again amazed that this lovely woman, chaste for decades, had so recently made the choice to use other men as both friends and sexual trinkets, and yet was so obviously in love with me, and me alone. I knew it mattered not that her body was utilized by Mark, other men, for it was me she cherished, I was positive that would never change. We sat, her head on my shoulder, my arm around her, we were content. But duty called to her. "French toast?" she offered, I accepted, and then I heard Mark chime his approval as well. Both of us were dressed in shorts and shirts, as Molly puttered in her peignoir she seemed unconcerned that two men were admiring her; instead she rather vamped, knowing that if she shook her ass that way or gave us a flash of nipple, both of us were watching, still desiring. We played threesome tennis, one set with Molly as Mark's partner, another with me, Mark was a much better player than either of us. A visit to a bistro for a salad and glass of bubbly, then Mark took his leave with a handshake and an ardent embrace, cries of 'we must do this again,' filled the air. As dusk closed about the neighborhood, Molly came to me, clean and perfumed, offered her body to me as an oblation, one I gladly accepted. In the darkness I asked, "Do you have him out of your system?" "Mostly. I'm fine now, but I think I could make a habit out of him." "You should, with my blessing." "I don't know, I feel as if it could be a mistake to let him or any other man get too close." Later I heard her bellows, and wondered that a woman could have, perhaps, a dozen happy orgasms in a weekend. I, as well as she, was grateful for the pursuit. |
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