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From: Adam Gunn <adamgunn@earthlink.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Seventy Five
Date: Wed, 19 Jun 2002 16:10:09 -0400
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A formatted and illustrated version of this story, along with my
other published works, is available at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/adamgunn/www.

The only reason I put up this site is to share my stories with
you, and to find out what you think of them. Please, take a
moment to send me a note by emailing me atadamgunn@earthlink.net

All stories on these pages (unless otherwise indicated) are
copyright (c)1997,1998,1999,2000, 2001, 2002 by Adam Gunn. All
rights reserved.

Please do not post them on other web pages, or distribute them
electronically or in any other format without the previous
permission of Adam Gunn. For permission, please email
adamgunn@earthlink.net

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
             Seventy Five
             by Adam Gunn   Seventy Five! I think 75 is a
milestone, don't you? Particularly when my final objective is
only 100. I'm three quarters of the way there.

On the way to what, you ask? My 100th guy. I designed a stickpin
just for the occasion. It's the symbols of the two sexes,
interlocked and made out of platinum for, of course, 75. The
center of it is a ruby for my red hair. I had two of them made.
When I showed them to my husband Don he asked what I was planning
on doing with them.

I told him my plans were to wear very sexy panties, and pin the
first one right over my crotch, so that the guy would find it and
I could explain the significance of that particular screw.
Afterwards, I'd give him the other one, as a memento. Don thought
I had it pretty well thought out.

For nearly a year, I've been looking for the perfect guy. He'd be
tall, handsome, exciting, and suave. Those in are addition to my
normal qualities of safe, clean, responsible, persistent and
confidential. A man like this, of course, doesn't happen by every
day. I've even let a couple of chances pass, waiting for just the
right stud. (No big deal, those guys will be available, I think,
for numbers 76 and 77.)

But things don't always go as planned, do they? Here's my
quandary - Is the last guy my 75th? And, if so, what do I do with
that jewelry? Let me tell you the whole story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doreen was a virgin. There is absolutely no doubt about that one.
She was a virgin when we met as roommates that first day of
college, and if she wasn't a virgin on her wedding day, it's only
because she and Alan knew they'd be together, monogamously, for
the rest of their lives.

Doreen was, and still is, my best friend. She knew all about me,
particularly about how I wasn't a virgin. She found out that the
hard way.

About six weeks after our freshman year started, I took a guy
back to our dorm room. Of course it was illegal, and if I got
caught, I'd get shipped back to Podunk. But I knew that if they
sent back every girl who did it, the Senior Class would be all
men. Except, of course, for Doreen.

So there I am, lying on my bunk with this guy. It's the middle of
the afternoon, and I know we'll be okay because Doreen's got a
math class. We've just finished a great screw, and he's laying on
his side while I'm on my back, and I've got my hand down playing
with his dick, hoping it'll come to life again. The door opens,
and in walks Doreen. She looks at him, she looks at his thing,
she looks at me, she looks at his thing again, gives a little
shriek, and backs out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Other than Alan, that may be the only real live cock she's ever
seen.

Later on, we catch up with each other. She's a little peeved, not
because she couldn't come into the room, but because she's
worried I'm going to get pregnant. I explain the birds and bees
and condoms and spermicides to her, and let her know that it
can't happen. (It never did, either!) We make a pact - she won't
judge me for what I am, and I won't try to force her into my
lifestyle. I did promise her that I'd never take another guy into
our dorm room again, and I kept that promise. Luckily, we only
spent three semesters in there, and then we rented an apartment
with separate bedrooms. After that, she just banged on the wall
when we got too noisy.

Doreen was with me the night when I found out what I wanted to be
when I grew up. A bunch of us were sitting around and a guy I was
in the process of trying to gently dump figured out he wasn't
welcome anymore, and called me a whore.

Vanessa looked at him, and in her best slave accent said,
"Sheeeittt, that girl ain't no hoe. You have to have at least a
hundred guys 'foe you a hoe. An' from what I seen, Tom-boy, you
ain't worth no hundred, sweetcakes!"

We all laughed, but I took his crack personally. To get even with
him, I went to another party where I knew his best friend was,
pretended I was drunk, and got him to take me to their room. When
we got there, I let him make out with me, and let him strip me
down to my bra. I got his thing out, and gave him a handjob. My
timing was perfect. Just as we were wiping it off Tom's sheets (I
made sure we were on his bed!) Tom walks in and 'catches' us.
Screaming and shouting ensue, I tell them they're both lousy
lays, and I walk back to the party, laughing my ass off.

But the next day I start to feel a little guilty, and I get to
thinking about what Tom and Vanessa said. Was I a whore? I was
just starting to understand how much I like the varieties and
vagaries of different men, and I decided that a objective of
one-hundred men in my life was not only realistic, but would be
one heck of a goal. I made up my mind right then and there that I
would bag my limit.

That day, I started keeping a list of the different men I'd been
with. It wasn't much of a chore then - it was just springtime in
our freshman year, and Tom was only my fifth conquest. Since
then, I've been very meticulous, and kept a detailed list of
every guy I've been with, along with dates, ratings and degrees
of kinkiness. Here's the summary:

High School    2  
       College    11    (I don't count Tom's roommate, I never
fucked him.)
       After college    7
       My first husband, Ray    1
       During my first marriage    8
       During my divorce    35    (helped by a couple of very
good orgies! )
       See Footnote at end of story for details

My second husband, Don    1
       During my second marriage    9


That's a total of 74 guys I've been with. I only count guys that
come in one of my three holes, although I've never had a guy in
the back door that didn't come in the front, too. I do count a
couple of guys who only got a blowjob; that's almost as personal
as being in my cunt, and both of them would have been invited to
head on down below if they'd wanted to. Now the question is, does
my latest guy count as my 75th, or am I still searching?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, what's this about all the screwing during my marriages? Well,
during the first one, I was young, and didn't have it figured out
how jealous a man could be. Or maybe I just didn't care. It
doesn't matter, either way it's my fault.

Doreen tried to warn me. She told me I wasn't ready for a
wedding, even though she'd been married over a year, and was
pregnant with her first daughter. She told me I wasn't stable
enough, that I'd hurt Ray, and then, when I did go through with
it, she told me to my face on my wedding day not to screwaround.

Of course I didn't listen to her! In the two years Ray stuck
around, I had round heels, as my record shows. And I wasn't very
smart about it. When Ray found out, it was pretty much over. And
then Doreen held my hands, and let me cry on her shoulder, and
didn't even tell me she told me so.

Doreen was aware of my prodigious record between my marriages,
and again, just tried to make sure I didn't get hurt. Which I
didn't. At all. Then, when I found Don, and just stopped fooling
around because I was happy with what I'd found, Doreen was
ecstatic, and again stood as my bridesmaid. This time, she didn't
give me a lecture, but she did tell me she didn't have to!

A few years later, Don began an affair, with my support and
blessing. A few months later, I reciprocated with his assistance.
Since then, we've had an open relationship. We both have affairs,
and tell each other about them. For the last three years, we've
even had another couple, Dave and Judy, who are sort of like our
mutual fuck buddies. It's nice - I get to scratch my itch two or
three times a year, and nobody gets hurt.

Both of us are very circumspect. We watch out who we have fun
with, and try to make sure that no one gets hurt. So far, I don't
think anyone has. And no one, I think, other than the people we
have fun with, knows about our secret lives.

No one, that is, except Doreen.

After my first conquest broke up (he was a guy in our hometown
who I was on a committee with,) I was looking around for someone
else to do it with. Luckily, our college reunion was coming
around. I go to it every year, as do about 60 or 70 others,
including Doreen. Rich was a semi-regular, hitting it every few
years.

I met Rich in college when I was dating one of his best friends
during our junior year. I'd learned my lesson from Tom, and
didn't take Rich to bed, even though both of us liked each other
a lot. I figured I'd let the summer take its course, and then
make a play for him in our senior year. But while he was doing an
internship, Rich found himself a girl (who he eventually
married,) and we never did get together.

Rich was still married, but when we got together, we always
kidded each other and had a lot of fun. Once, during the years
when I was being faithful to Don, we started to make out at the
get-together, but I stopped it pretty quickly. It was clear,
however, that if I ever had the inclination, Rich was willing to
help me out.

So I called Rich up where he worked, and it didn't take him long
to figure out why I was so interested in if he was going to go
that year. We made plans to reach the campus a day before the
official festivities began. (Yes, just to satisfy your prurient
interests, Don didn't accompany me that year because he knew I
was going to be otherwise occupied. Although I'm not absolutely
positive, Rich's wife may have allowed him the same privilege.)

Late in the afternoon, I checked into the campus hotel, where all
the alumni stay. The clerk said, "Oh, yes, Suite 209." When I
took my luggage up there, a dozen roses awaited me, as well as a
bottle of champagne on ice. The bedclothes were drawn down, and a
beautifully wrapped package awaited me on the pillows. I opened
it and found a midnight blue bra and panties set. Also enclosed
were a dozen condoms and a note that read, "Slip these on, call
me in room 211, and I'll slip one of these on. Love, Rich." Of
course I realized that he was right next door, and so I took some
time primping myself and getting myself into the getup. I banged
around a bit, making sure that Rich knew I was in the room, and
when I was ready, first I silently opened the interlocking door
and then unwrapped a rubber. I called him, and when he answered,
I told him to come on into my room. He came in, dressed in a
matching pair of midnight blue french-cut briefs, and I let him
chase me into the corner of the room. He grabbed for me, and I
reached down, unleashed his tool, slid the condom onto it (he was
as ready as I was,) and let him skewer me with my back to the
wall. He had good control of himself and we bumped and grinded
for three minutes or so. Three minutes is a long time in that
position. Then we slid onto the couch and I climbed on top of him
to finish both him and myself off. It was a great first fuck,
spontaneous, quick and totally satisfying. When it's like that
the first time, you can't wait for the second to find out if
it'll still be as good.

We just sat there, sort of cuddling and sort of making out, and
he stripped me of the lingerie. When we were both naked, Rich
opened up the champagne and poured the wine directly out of the
bottle into my mouth. When I began laughing and letting the
beverage slip out of my mouth, Rich licked it up, and then began
pouring it all over me, licking it up where it spilled. He had
great tongue action, and after he got done with my nipples, he
poured it lower and lower. Finally, he got to the good part, and
I tilted myself up so that my pussy could hold quite a bit of the
champagne without spilling it. He licked three or four helpings
out, and then started on me proper. Rich knew just where my
prominent button was, and what to do with it, and, like the good
mistress I am, I came properly for him.

Then, of course, it was my turn. I got a glass, filled it, dunked
his limp penis into it and licked it off. It wasn't long before
it wouldn't go into the thin crystal (Rich turned out to be
thicker than average,) and so I started sucking in earnest.
Before he could come, he got me to sit back on the couch, fitted
another rubber on, knelt between my legs and entered me again. It
was even better than the first time, because Rich could really
control his movements in that position. He pumped in, out and
around inside of me, varying the rhythm and tempo until I was in
full spend. Then he turned me over and did me from the rear,
making me even more frantic. Finally, I couldn't stand it any
longer, stripped the rubber off of him, and went down on him.
I've been told by many guys, including Don, that I give the best
blowjobs in town. In fact, in many towns. When Rich started
moaning and pumping into my mouth, I knew I had another satisfied
customer.

The rest of the night is sort of a blur, because of the champagne
and all the sex. I seem to remember room service, and then
finally we slept.

We sort of woke up mutually, sometime around eight. Rich went
into the shower, and I just laid there, luxuriating in the
feeling of being well fucked, and knew I wanted some more. I put
on a green negligee I'd brought, hoping to get Rich ready again,
and the phone rang, and it was Doreen. She was going to get in
later that afternoon, and just wanted to check with me about a
few details. We were chatting about our plans, when Rich came out
of the bathroom, toweling off his hair, and yelled, "Lisa, you
are one great lay!" When he looked at me and saw that I was on
the phone, he ducked back into the bathroom.

Doreen stuttered a couple of times, finished the conversation
quickly, and then told me she'd see me later. The idea that I'd
been caught sort of excited me, and I was able to get Rich all
sweaty again.

It didn't take long for Doreen to get me aside that evening.
After a few false starts, she asked, point-blank, if I was having
an affair. I admitted it, and then, before she could start in on
me, I told her about my arrangement with Don. She plainly didn't
believe it, and was clearly pissed with me for the rest of the
reunion. Rich wasn't, though. He met me in my room every evening
and to this day, we get together every once in awhile.

Doreen stayed upset with me until Don took her aside and talked
to her, and let her know it was okay. Once she heard it from him,
she turned into her old self. Later, she told me she doesn't
understand the life I choose to live, but like always, she
refuses to judge me. She just wants to make sure that I don't get
hurt. Don's included in that, too. I don't tell her about every
conquest I've made, like I used to in college, but she's been
aware of a few of them. She's a pal. She'd do anything for me,
and I know I'll do anything for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alan and Don get along pretty good, too. Just before their last
son graduated from high school, Alan bought a sailboat on a lake
a couple of hours north of us, and asked Don if he'd help 'break
it in.' They stayed up there the whole weekend going around in
circles. I knew Don was as hooked as Alan was when he suggested
we buy a boat, too. I got him to climb off that one by appealing
to logic; if we were off on a boat in the middle of the water,
how could we be golfing? Don realized the futility of trying to
have too many playthings, and for the next couple of years the
two of them took day trips up to the lake, and sometimes Doreen
and I had to go with them.

Before last summer rolled around, Alan started pushing a sailing
trip around the Virgin Islands. Don thought it was a good idea,
too, and Doreen seemed to be supportive. I wasn't sure about it.
A week out on the water with nothing more to do than read and
drink doesn't appeal to me that much; I'm more of a big city
type. But I was outvoted, so one Friday night I'm aboard a flight
to St. Thomas. The guys planned the whole thing - they got the
charter, and 'laid in' all kinds of supplies, mostly liquor, so
that all we had to do was sail from place to place and anchor in
pristine bays off deserted islands. I'd done some research of my
own, and discovered that the wardrobe de riguer for such a voyage
is topless. And that's only if you get cold. But I was going with
Doreen and Alan, so I packed as many one-piece suits as bikinis,
and brought along a bunch of cover-ups.

The first couple of days went along pretty much as expected. Sail
in the wild tropical winds from about ten o'clock in the morning
until about three, then find someplace to anchor without another
boat in sight. In the morning and then in the evening we'd all
jump in for swim and play time. Maybe some volleyball or keep
away or something like that. A little roughhousing went on,
bodies crashing into bodies, but I never felt uncomfortable with
it, and Doreen didn't seem to mind the incidental brushes.

On the third day there was almost no breeze at all, and the sea
was as flat as a tabletop. While the guys were trying to figure
out how to get the boat to go somewhere, anywhere, Doreen and I
thought about what we would make for dinner, and the four of us
came to the same conclusion - head for port! We turned the motor
on and set course for the nearest village. When we finally got
there, it was late afternoon, and we got off the boat in the
metropolis, glad to be back in 'civilization.' There were only
two establishments in the place that catered to tourists, and we
hit both of them. First we had a long dinner of fresh vegetables
and fish, and then we went over to the nightclub. It was long
after dark when we arrived, and the place was, if not jumping, at
least lively. A reggae band was playing loudly, and perhaps fifty
people, mostly tourists but some natives, were imbibing and
dancing. We gladly joined them in both of their pursuits, and
until well after two in the morning we got wild and crazy.

Mostly, Alan danced with Doreen and Don pranced with me, but
occasionally we would switch off. This wasn't odd; Alan and I
often danced with each other at weddings or parties at our Club.
After awhile, Doreen decided she wanted to get some air, but Alan
wanted to have another Planter's Punch. I sent Don out to look
after our friend; even if we were in the tropics, it was still a
strange area, and women should be escorted. After they left, Alan
and I started dancing again, and then they shifted to a couple of
slow dances. Alan grabbed me, and we drifted around the dance
floor. Soon, I was aware that he was pressing himself to me much
closer than he'd ever done before, and he stole a little kiss. I
let him, thinking it was just the romance of the setting, but
when I felt his hand wandering toward my ass, I sat down! Half an
hour later, we were back on board, bedded down on our proper side
of the curtain.

The next day was much better. The breeze kicked up, we sailed
along, and everyone was in much better spirits. As usual, we
anchored in the late afternoon, and took a swim. When we
frolicked, even though Alan and I made contact as usual, it
didn't seem like any big deal.

After we climbed back on the boat, Doreen and I began to sun. The
guys folded sails or something, and Doreen turned to me and said,
"You know, to hell with this. There they are, with just their
loose trunks on, and here we are, with these tight things on."
She was wearing a bikini with some underwiring in the bra. "I'm
going to do something about this!" And she whipped her top off! A
few moments later, Don looked over and nearly twisted his neck.
He didn't know whether to stare at her in amazement, or to ignore
the whole thing. Alan caught his act, glanced at her, and said,
"Hey, you're finally going to get comfortable, huh?"

Now I'm not a nudist, but I've never seen the use of clothes just
for the sake of covering up something that doesn't really need
it. (Fashion? But that's another subject, dear.) So I went below,
took the one-piece off, and put just bottoms on. When I went back
on deck, I could tell that Alan was trying not to gawk, but the
longer we let it go on, the less uncomfortable the situation
became. The night ended up with both of us girls eating dinner
and cleaning up without changing our costume. Later, Don and I
went to bed, and heard the sounds of the other couple making love
up on the deck, so we did it too.

I always woke earlier than the others. When I went topside it was
a gorgeous dawn, and I decided to stay with the new uniform of
the day. I jumped into the ocean for a little swim, and after a
few strokes, I saw Alan on the deck. I motioned for him to come
on in, and he splashed in and floundered over to me. We continued
a few hundred yards, until we were both worn out. I'm a better
swimmer than he is, but he can stay afloat much easier than I
can; I often hung onto his shoulders as a flotation device and
that morning I didn't see any reason to change the habit. But as
we rested in the deep water, I began to feel his arm brush up
against my chest more than was absolutely necessary. I extricated
myself, and swam towards the beach, into shallower water. When I
could barely stand up, I just looked at the beauty of the island.
A few minutes later, I felt Alan's lips at the back of my neck,
and his hand cupped my bosom. I turned around in surprise, and he
grabbed me and pressed our groins together while he attempted to
kiss me. I avoided as much contact as I could, and said, "Alan,
you know I like you, but we just can't do this. Do you
understand?"

"But, Lisa, you're just so . . ."

"No, Alan. We can't hurt Doreen or Don."

"But . . ."

"I'm going back to the boat, Alan. I'm trusting you not to do
anything like this again." I took off, outswimming him, and by
the time he got back to the boat I had a bra and cover-up on, and
Don was rustling around, thanks to a few nudges from me. Within a
few hours, everything seemed back to normal, but for the rest of
the trip I didn't go topless, and I was very careful about
touching him when we played. He seemed to be okay with that, and
didn't try anything else. As far as I was concerned, it was
forgotten. No, I didn't tell Don about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later, the guys were spending a day at the lake, and
Doreen and I were in her backyard, just chatting. We went on for
awhile, and then she said, "Lisa, can I talk to you? About sex?"

This wasn't a big deal. The first time she was pregnant, she
realized that she wasn't able to satisfy Alan completely, and she
wanted to know how to give him a good blowjob. This was before
the Internet, (not that Doreen would ever enter a chat room!) and
she needed a good reference. None better than me, she figured,
and I was happy to give her a few pointers. In the ensuing years,
when they got bored or other minor problems would crop up, I'd
help her out with some sound advice.

This time, however, it was a big deal.

"Lisa, I think Alan's going to have an affair."

"Oh, come on, Doreen, he loves you. He's not going to do anything
like that."

"But he's been fantasizing about it in bed with me. It's on his
mind. He's never had anyone but me, and now that the kids are out
of the house, he's got too much time to himself."

"So he's going through male menopause. Big deal. He'll get over
it."

We went around that block for a long time. Although I wasn't
convinced he would ever get serious, (or know what to do to get
it if he did!), Doreen was sure that sooner or later, she was
going to have to deal with the 'other woman.'

"Okay, let's assume for the moment that you're right. So he goes
out and has a quick affair. So you'll be hurt for a little while,
but honey, before long he'll come back, wagging his tail behind
him. You've got absolutely nothing to worry about, even in the
remote possibility that he really does go through with it."

"I wish I was so sure about it. But with all the widows and
divorced women out there, I'm afraid he'll like her more than he
likes me, and I'll lose him."

We talked about that one for awhile. This, apparently, was her
big problem, that after he went away he'd never come back. Having
seen it happen all too often before, (one guy chased me for two
years,) I could only be so supportive. Finally, we got around to
looking for solutions. I sure didn't have one, but Doreen did.

"Lisa, what I need to do is get him a different woman who would
service him once or twice, and then send him home." This one
floored me.

"What are you going to do, get him a hooker for his birthday?"

"No, that wouldn't work. At least, I don't think it would. What I
need is a girl who he's already interested in, but is safe. You
know Alan's been quite specific in bed; I know what he wants. I
think he'd like me to be that, but I just can't."

"So what's he looking for?"

"Well, a girl that's really exciting. A woman who's been with a
bunch of guys, who knows what a man wants." I wasn't sure I liked
the way this was going. "His ideal girl has beautiful tits, and
is very exciting. Sort of like you."

"Wait a minute. You're not suggesting . . ."

"Lisa, he's never told me in so many words that you're his ideal
woman. But for weeks after we came back from the cruise, he
couldn't stop thinking about the day we went topless. And how you
danced with him at the nightclub. You really affected him that
week."

"Doreen, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to . . ."

"No, it's okay, it's just that you're so sexy you can't turn it
off. Don't worry about it, even if he tried to kiss you. Or
something. I know you didn't encourage him." I wondered if Alan
had been talking out of school. "Besides, you've got other
advantages."

"Such as?"

"Such as the fact that you're his best friends wife. And that you
have an open relationship?"

"He doesn't know that, does he?"

"Hell, Lisa, when I found out what you were doing, I had to talk
about it with someone! If it's any consolation, he defended you,
telling me it was none of my business."

I went to get us another drink, and get my head in order. When I
got back, I tried to summarize the situation.

"All right. What I hear is that you think that Alan, sooner or
later, is going to go fool around on you. You want to set him up
with an easy girl, but someone who's not a threat. That's me. In
other words, you want me to go fuck your husband until he's
satisfied, and then you think he'll get over it." I used the
F-word on purpose; Doreen doesn't like obscenity, and I wanted to
shock her if I could.

"Pretty much, that's it. Don't say no, not yet. Will you think
about it? Please?"

We talked about it some more. I shared with her what I thought
were the weak points of her plan. How if we went through with
this, it might just whet his appetite. How he might wind up
obsessing on me. How, in the long run, it might ruin our
relationship. For each one, she came back, quickly, with a
retort. He'd never been a man to fool around; this was just a
phase we had to get him through. (All of a sudden, it had become
my problem, as well as hers.) How I was very good at controlling
guys; surely Alan would be a walk in the park. And, of course,
how could such a sweet thing ever come between us, when we
already had so much water over the dam.

I could speak to the President of the United States and tell him
to go fly a kite. But I couldn't refuse my best friend. "I'll
speak to Don about it," I said. "If he doesn't kill me, we'll see
about it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I waited three days until the right moment, which came, of
course, in bed after sex. When I first broke the subject, Don
just about split a gut. "Yeah, he's been asking me about what the
women I had before you were like. He hasn't asked me about Jill,
or Fran, or Judy though. Are you sure Doreen gave him the whole
story?"

"She couldn't. I've never told her about your girls. Maybe she
thinks I'm the only one who screws around."

"Well, do you want to do this? I mean, this could be heap big
medicine, you know."

We talked about it for an hour or so, and he brought up all the
same objections I had. But the bottom line for him was that I had
to help my friend. When I asked him how it might affect his
relationship with Alan, he replied that it wouldn't matter to
him, and that he didn't think Alan was the type of guy to rub
somebody's nose in it. If worse came to worse, he'd just have to
talk to him about it. If I decided to go ahead, he'd be cool with
it, like he always was.

So, the ball was still firmly in my court.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I got together with Doreen a couple of days later, I got
weak. I can't refuse that girl anything. But we did get some
ground rules down:

     - I'd only go to bed with Alan two or, at the very most,
three times. Then it would be over. Over! Do you hear me, never
again!

    - I wanted to do it in their house, but not in their bed. I
wanted him to think about her while he was doing it to me. I
figured that if we did it anywhere else, it would be easier for
him to ignore her.

     - She had to trust me to make sure that he got what he
needed, without giving him more than that. She did. I was the
expert, she said.



I set it up for a Wednesday night a couple of weeks after that.
Following our plan, Doreen told Alan she was going to a town
council meeting, and after that she was going to have coffee with
some of her girl friends. She had to tell him she'd be back about
ten o'clock. And come back promptly at 9:05.

I prepared differently for this "date" than I had for any other
in history. First, I hadn't shaved my legs since Sunday, so I was
good and stubbly. Then, when I got home from work, I went for a
jog, and didn't shower. I did, however, give myself a douche;
some men feel that a musty vagina is the world's best
aphrodisiac, and if Alan was one of those, I didn't need that
distraction. I put my sports bra back on and donned a pair of
white panties that I'd bought at K-Mart just for this occasion.
Blue jeans and a flannel shirt finished off the outfit. I didn't
bother to put make-up on, and my hair wasn't properly groomed,
either.

I stopped over about 8:00, an hour after she left. It wasn't
unusual for me to just pop in. "Hi," I said, walking casually
through the sliding door into their downstairs den. The four of
us were quite casual in our comings and goings.

"Oh, hello. What are you doing here?"

"Looking for Doreen. Is she upstairs?"

"No, she went down to one of those damn meetings." He wasn't
appreciative of her newfound interest in politics. "She's not
going to be back for a couple of hours."

"Oh, that's too bad. I wanted to show her some pictures I found
of the trip to the Virgin Islands." I was pretty sure that Alan
hadn't seen most of the pictures, and was counting on him to have
forgotten the rest. "Do you want to take a look at them?"

He started flipping through the thick sheave of glossies. The
first fifteen or twenty were of the boat or islands. Then he got
to a few of us playing around in the water. I went behind him,
looked over his shoulder and made comments about how much fun the
trip had been. A few flips later and he was looking at the ten or
so pictures where Doreen and I were topless. In most of them, his
wife had thrown an arm over her breasts or done something else to
hide them. I, on the other hand, was displaying my tits for all
the world to see. When he slowed down to get a good look at
these, I gently (accidentally) brushed my breasts along his arm.
"We had a really great time down there, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we sure did," he grunted.

"Alan, remember the morning we went swimming by ourselves? Well,
I'm sorry I wasn't a little nicer to you then. It's just that,
well, Doreen was right there, and if she had seen us, uh, it just
wouldn't have looked right. You see that, don't you?"

"Umm, hmm." He was enjoying the pressure of my hand on his neck.
"But, if we ever get the chance, just once or twice mind you, I
really think you're a sweet guy. . ." By this time, I had my face
right beside his. He turned his face to me, and I kissed him. I
made sure it was just a nice kiss, not too hard, and just a
little tongue. He responded in kind, and we sort of hung around a
little, letting our lips meet. Finally, I broke it up.

"Whew! You're a great kisser," I fibbed. "Can I get a drink?"

While he made it for me, I sat down on the couch. "Sit down
here," I urged. Of course, when he did, I sidled up beside him
and started rubbing him. For awhile he was tentative and then he
put his hand on my arm. I didn't have a lot of time, so I placed
it on my breast. He got the idea, and started pawing me, and
kissing me hard. I knew I had him where I wanted.

"Alan, you're not going to tell Doreen, are you?"

"No, of course not."

"What time do you think she'll be home?"

"She said about 10:00." The guy was writing a textbook in how not
to have an affair. I knew Doreen would be home a full hour
earlier than that, and his inattentiveness would just make it
easier for us to scare him out of trying again!

"Let's go upstairs." I led him up to the second floor, and then
into their daughters room. Fathers are compulsive about their
little girls, and this was perfect for the purpose. There was an
alarm clock, and I checked the time against my wristwatch - it
was six minutes slow.

I sat down on the bed, and he followed me. Before too long, I was
on my back, still fully dressed and Alan was on top of me. He
unbuttoned my blouse, flipped the bra up and started sucking on
my nipples. I unzipped his pants and grabbed a hold of his dick.
He was ready to go, and just in time. We only had 35 minutes
before Doreen would return. When he went to take my blouse and
bra off, he managed to get me totally tied up, and if he hadn't
been so intent, I would have split a gut laughing. When he
finally had me topless, I took off his shirt and pants and then I
rubbed my tits all over him. He was getting harder yet, and then
I finally got him out of his boxers. He was ready to go.

I laid back and let him take off my jeans and panties. He took a
good look at my pussy, and started fingering it, ineffectively.
While he was having fun, I licked my hand and started applying
friction to his tool.

He started to kneel between my legs, and I stopped him. "We need
a condom. Do you have any up here?"

"Cripes, no," he moaned.

"That's okay. I've got one in my purse. Lay here and wait while I
go get it."

I'd planned this. I wanted him to lie there, in his daughter's
bedroom, and think about the dastardly act he was about to
commit. I put my jeans and top on, and went downstairs to
retrieve the protection. I wasn't in a hurry; I wanted the
situation to sink into his brain. When I returned, he was still
lying there, stiff as a two by four. I put the package on the end
table, right next to the family photograph, and then I slowly
undressed for him. We had seventeen minutes left. I took his tool
in my mouth, and could taste the pre-cum. I knew he was pretty
excited, and that he wouldn't last long, so I picked up the foil
and handed it to him.

"Put this on." It took him a few moments to tear the package, and
then, from the way he handled it, I knew it had been years since
he'd used one, if he ever did. Finally, I had to reach over and
help him, and I knew from the way he was twitching that he
wouldn't last long.

When the rubber was adjusted correctly, I laid down on the bed
and opened my legs. Alan knelt between them, and got on top of
me. We kissed and he tried to get it to enter me, but he kept
missing the mark. I reached between us, grabbed it, and placed it
right at the entrance to my vagina. At that precise moment, I
felt Alan's body go rigid and the tremors in my hand proved to me
that he was in the midst of premature ejaculation. I thought he
might try to push into me and finish himself of, but instead he
let me stroke his tool while he came. I know that his head was
right at my lips, but I'm not sure just how far he entered my
canal. I let him stay on top of me, and stroked his tool until he
was empty. He rolled off of me and we laid there while he
finished wheezing. We had eleven minutes left - plenty of time. I
took a tissue, removed the rubber and placed it on the table,
next to the picture, making sure it wouldn't leak. Then we just
laid there, next to each other and I told him it would be better
the next time.

"Listen," I said, with seven minutes left, "I think we'd better
break this up before Doreen gets home, don't you?"

"We've got plenty of time," he told me, and then he started to
finger my pussy a little bit. Just at that precise moment, we
heard the garage door begin to open. I registered, with delight,
the look of shock on his face. This was cutting it a bit close,
but I figured it was just what we needed. I just hoped Doreen
would stay downstairs so that we wouldn't get 'caught.'

"Quick, get dressed. Go downstairs and just chit-chat. Try not to
be nervous." He did as he was ordered. I was a couple of steps
behind him when he had all his clothes on. "Go!" I commanded.

He almost tripped going down the stairs, and after he got all the
way down, I went into the bathroom and flushed the evidence down
the toilet. Before I went down the flight of steps, I looked at
the clock and realized my watch was six minutes slow, not fast.

Doreen greeted me and I just told her about the photos. One more
time we went through them, and Doreen studied them as if she'd
never seen them before. As we viewed the topless photographs,
Doreen remarked, "That was fun, wasn't it. Don't we both have
nice tits, dear?" Alan was just taking a drink, and choked on it.
I hung around for a half-hour or so, and then I made my excuses.
Alan followed me out, and after he closed my car door for me, I
rolled the window down and told him that I was looking forward to
the next time.

When I got home, I greeted Don and then took a hot shower and
shaved myself. Don knew what I am, and he's even seen me screw
other men, but this made me feel dirty. When he came to bed, I
feigned sleep.

When I picked up my voicemails at work in the middle of the next
morning, Doreen's ecstatic voice entreated me to call her. I
closed the door to my office and dialed her over my salad at
lunchtime.

"What did you do to him last night? He was fantastic! He even
asked me to put on some sexy underwear, and then he got some oil
out. What happened? Didn't it work out?"

I decided not to tell her the whole story. "We started, but in
the middle, well, he just didn't feel like continuing." That was
sort of a truth, wasn't it? "Listen, before I continue the
treatments, I think we should let it settle for a few days. Let's
try to figure out where he is, okay?"

The four of us were supposed to go out on the boat the following
weekend, and I wondered if I should call it off; I was still
feeling if not, well, guilty, then sort of soiled still, I guess.
I didn't tell Don what I'd done. For some reason, even though it
might turn around and bite us all in the ass, I was hoping it
would all go away.

When we got to the pier, Doreen was in the hold, and Alan was
working topside. When he first glanced at me, I thought his face
flushed a bit, but he acted normally. 'Good,' I thought, 'at
least he's not going to make a fool out of himself, and me with
him.' We cast off and floated out to the middle of the lake. The
guys did some sort of fast turning maneuver they were working on
for awhile and then we settled into a long sail downwind. Don
went up onto the bow to play with the sails or something, and
Doreen went up there to sun. For the first time since our
'affair' started, Alan and I were alone.

Alan started the conversation. "Listen, we need to talk."

"Um-hmm."

"Well, uh, I really enjoyed the other night, but I don't feel
very good about it."

"How so?"

"Well, I mean, we cheated on Don and Doreen. If they ever find
out, well, they'll never trust us again."

I decided not to disagree. "Well, if we keep it up, they're bound
to figure it out, sooner or later."

"Well, yeah. That's why I think we stop it now."

I was astounded. This was way too easy! "You mean, you don't want
me anymore?"

He tried to take it easy on me. "Oh, Lisa, I liked it, I like
you, but it's just not worth it. Can't you see that?"

I started to pout a little bit. I didn't want him to think I was
relieved or anything. Just then Don came back, and we had to stop
talking. For the next couple of hours, we sailed around. Finally,
on our way back into the slip, he got a chance to get me aside
again. "Lisa, is it okay? I mean, you won't be too upset, will
you?"

"No, I guess not. I'll always remember it, though."

"So will I."

Weeks went by, and nothing. Finally, when Doreen and I went to a
ballet by ourselves, (trying to get those two to go to anything
cultural is suicide,) I broached the subject. "Well, anymore talk
out of him about another woman?"

"No, not a peep. Whatever you did to him cured his itch. What did
you do, anyway?"

"Nothing, just gave him a little touch of the medicine. And he
found out he didn't like the taste. And why should he, honey,
when he's got a banquet in you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that's the story. I believe that Alan will never stray again,
and things will be just fine in mid-America.

But this leaves me in a quandary. Did Alan and I make love? Or
should I assume that he never got there, in which case I should
save those stickpins and continue to look for Mr. 75?

What do you think?


******  Foot Note on Lisa's Orgies  *******

Okay, sickee, here's the details. Before my three orgies, I'd
been in a few threesomes. Either two girls or a guy, or the
opposite.

(Yes, I've licked pussy. Yes, I've let girls lick mine. Yes, I
made her come. Yes, she made me come. No, I've never done it with
just a girl; it's always been with a guy around. No, I don't
think that qualifies me as a lesbian. Now can I get on with this
footnote?)

The first time was at a girlfriend's apartment. There were seven
guys (none of whom I'd ever known biblically before) and four
girls. I knew what I was getting myself into, and I was an
enthusiastic participant. In fact, I think I was the first one
there to have my panties off. In the course of the evening, six
of the guys had it in me, and I gave the seventh a blowjob while
I was getting it from behind. It lasted for at least five hours,
and I was the last one to leave. I couldn't sit down for three
days, and I wanted to do it again.

The girlfriend set up another good time a few weeks later. This
time there were nine guys and five girls. Five of the guys hadn't
been at the previous party. I made sure all of them got to me. I
went over to her house for similar escapades five or six times
more, but only one new guy came to them.

I started dating one of the guys from the parties, and he invited
me to go deer hunting with him and three of his buddies that I'd
never met before. I had no illusions; my role was to be the
concubine. There were three bedrooms in the cottage, two with
single beds, and one with a double bed. I claimed the biggest
one. The first evening got a little strange - I don't think the
guys knew where to begin. So I set up a nickel-dime-quarter poker
game, and told them the whoever won $10 could be my first guy.
While they were playing, I went in and put on a negligee.
Finally, one of the guys cleaned up a big pot and we went into my
room together. He shut the door and we started to go at it. It
didn't take long, I was ready and he sure was. I made a lot of
noise so that the party would be sure to think about what was
happening. After 15 minutes or so, I shoved him out the door,
went into the bathroom and cleaned up, and then put a bra and
panties on. When I came out, I chose the next guy and we did it
all over again. I made sure my 'boyfriend' was last, and he slept
with me. The next night I told them I was tired of this one guy
at a time thing and put some music on. Two of the guys started
dancing with me and I let them strip me. Before you know it, I'm
straddling one guy who's got it in my pussy, another's trying to
shove it up my ass, I'm giving one a blow job and the last guy is
getting a hand job just 'cause there's no place left for him to
put it. It was a good, old-fashioned gang bang and I loved it.

I never minded group sex as long as there was no S/M, and I felt
like I was in control. If a guy started to hurt me, I just picked
up and moved on; a scene like that can get crazy too easy, and
you can get hurt.

Finally, I got tired of the group sex thing, and decided that
romance was more my style. So I just stopped going to my
girlfriend's bacchanalias. Satisfied?


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