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From: storyace@hotmail.com
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Subject: {ASSM} My older lover, and her wife by storyace
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Date: Sat, 05 Jan 2008 16:10:01 -0500
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Author; Storyace, [Aceinthe_hole]
Title; My older lover, and her wife
Summary; a young man is seduced by his lovely lady dentist. After a
brief affair, she wants to see him again. This time, she takes him
home to meet her wife. 9234 words
Keywords;  m/F m/F/F [older woman], threesome

My older lover; and her wife...
I guess no one likes going to the dentist; trying to relax while
someone mucks around in your mouth.
But Dr. Fredrick  was a surprise; she was a she, and a very lovely she
at that.
She was around 40 years old, and I was only 16; I didn't think of her
as a possibility for actual sex. But I somehow didn't mind her hands
on me.
She was tall and slim; about 5'9", with a marvelous waist and a
perfect little ass that her white trousers just seemed made to
display. She had straight ice blond hair that she kept tied back
against her head and braided behind her. But what I just couldn't keep
my eyes off of was her face; she just had an amazing face.
I guess it was her cheekbones; I don't know, I guess it was the whole
thing.  The symmetry, her chin; the prominent jawline.  The eyebrows
perfectly arching over kind blue eyes.
I normally kept my eyes closed when a dentist worked on me, but with
Amelia, I kept them open.
If I would wince, she'd stop for a moment, and stroke my face gently
before resuming. She had wonderful hands; long and elegant, competent
and confident.  Those hands could do anything to me.
So there I was, lying on my back, with this gorgeous woman my mother's
age looking down at me and occasionally touching me gently.  I started
to get a hard on.
It didn't take much when I was 16; I used to walk around with a stiffy
half the day.  The problem was, it was growing in the wrong direction,
and I couldn't exactly reach in to adjust myself.
It was pushing against my underwear, and finally it found its way
through, into my left pant leg.
That was a relief, since there was room in there.  I relaxed and
watched my older woman fantasy as she busied herself around my face.
And then, I thought I saw her look there; at my crotch.
The thought that she might be noticing my hard on was both mortifying
and thrilling.  I watched her eyes.
Her hands stopped for a couple of seconds, her fingers wrapped around
my chin; she was definitely checking me out.  I felt a surge of blood
in my cock that caused it to stretch the fabric of my trousers.  It
was incredibly embarrassing, but what could I do?  I was helpless.
She went back to her work.  Thank God she didn't have to do anything
painful; then again, perhaps it would have relieved my other pressure.
Then she stopped her work, turned off her drill, and removed the
cotton wads from under my lip.  She looked around inside my mouth with
her little mirror for one last time, idlely holding my face with her
other hand.  Such a gentle hand, so warm and nice.
"Well, that's about does it, William."  She said.
God, her eyes; they were mesmerizing.  I was just lying there, looking
into her eyes.  I realized it is time to get up, time to leave; but
then I realized that she hadn't set the chair straight again.  And her
hand was still on my cheek.
"Can you keep a secret, William?"  She asked me.
I could feel my cheek burning hot; my heart was pounding so loud I
thought my eardrums would burst. "Yes."  I managed to say.
"From everyone?  From your best friend, from your parents?"  Her hand
was moving down my chest.  Across my flat stomach.  Her light yet firm
touch was causing me to shiver; it was the first time anyone had ever
touched me that way.
"Yes."  I affirmed, afraid to move a muscle.  Afraid that I might
somehow stop this thing from happening; this thing that every boy
dreams of, this moment I'd prayed for.
Her hand was on my thigh, next to the long bulge of fabric that
covered my pulsing teenaged virgin cock.
"Do you swear?"
Her long hand was close, so close; I was aching for her touch.
"I swear!"  I said.
My breathing was short and shallow as she unbuckled my belt.
Unbuttoned my jeans.  Carefully lowered my zipper.
I didn't move a muscle, I just watched her as she reached under the
band of my underwear, and her cool smooth hand wrapped around my
burning shaft.
It was wonderful; just her touch was wonderful.  She freed me, freed
my young hard cock from the fabric of civilization that had been
restraining it. A sensation more intense than anything I'd ever known
traveled through my cock, up my torso, and through my consciousness.
I watched her looking at it, I saw the desire in her eyes.
I saw her perfect mouth open as her head dropped.
Just the touch of her hand had nearly set me off, but her warm wet
mouth around my shaft was way too much; she barely had time to bob her
head up and down excruciatingly over it once or twice before my orgasm
came pumping out the quivering tip.
She held my balls, my whole lower body seemed to be in her hands;
spasm after spasm, squirt after squirt.  Every muscle in my body was
contracting and relaxing, and contracting again; it was so intense, it
was hard to tell what was happening to me.  I knew this was supposed
to be the ultimate in pleasure, but my recollection of my first real
orgasm was as much of fear and confusion as pleasure.
After awhile, it was over.  The spasms subsided, I felt my body
relax.  I was sweating lightly.
She spat into the sink, and rinsed her mouth with one of her little
paper cups.  She looked at me and smiled kindly.
"Do you feel better now?"  She asked me.
"Yes."  I answered, stupidly.
"You'd better go."  She said, pressing the button to straighten the
chair, "I have another appointment in a few minutes."
Something about the way she said that made me feel bad; jealous.  What
did she mean by "Another appointment"? Was I just an appointment?
Things can be difficult when you're 16.
She handed me a card "This has my cell phone number on it." She said,
giving me a quick kiss on my mouth. "Will you call me?"
"Yes."  I said, it seemed to be the only word I was capable of
speaking.
"Promise?"  She asked.
"Yes, I promise."  I said, sincerely.
"Don't tell anyone."  She admonished me one last time before I left.

I couldn't believe that I was going to go out with a woman 25 years
older than myself.  I had no idea what she expected of me; well, sex
of course.  I knew that.  But what else?  Was I supposed to buy her
flowers, take her to dinner?  My head was spinning with it all.  But I
couldn't get her gorgeous face out of my mind.
After I thought about it for a while, I realized that it would be up
to her to take the lead in things.  It would all work out, I decided.
From the privacy of my bedroom, on my own line, I phoned her.
"Dr. Frederick."  She answered the phone.
"Uh... Hi. It's me. William." I said.
"William." There was a pause; I wondered if I had made the right
decision.  Perhaps she regretted what she had done.  Maybe she didn't
want to see me again, I thought in sudden despair.
"William."  She repeated, "I'm glad you called.  Are you all right?"
"Yes, great.  I'm fine.  How are you?"
"Good.  Should we... can we meet somewhere?"
"Anywhere you want." Despair was now replaced with elation; that's the
rollercoaster of adolescence.
"Meet me at Washington Square tomorrow.  Can you make it at seven?"
"Yes."
"It's a date, then.  This is a little strange, isn't it?"
"I don't know.  I guess so."
She laughed; "See you tomorrow, William."

It was several miles from my house.  I rode my bicycle over there, and
locked it up.  I sat on a bench to wait.
She looked incredible; her figure was striking as she strode towards
me, long and elegant in a trench coat and matching skirt.
"Have you been waiting long?"  She asked me.
"No."  I replied
"Are you hungry?"
"A little." I was starving, actually.  When I was a teenager, I could
eat unlimited quantities constantly.
We went into a restaurant that was just there.  We tried to relax, but
the tension was palpable.  Trying to break the ice, she asked me
questions; school, family, stuff like that.  Speaking became easier
after awhile, but there was too much in the air between us.  Fear of
being seen was a large part of it.
"Let's get out of here."  She said as I finished my food.

She took me to a motel.
"I have to tell you something, William."
"What?"
"I'm married.  Is that a problem for you?"
"No."  I told her.
There wasn't much she could've said to me right then that would have
been a problem for me; my heart had been in an accelerated condition
for several hours, hormones ruled my brain.  I wanted her like I'd
never wanted in my life.  Like I'd never known it was possible to
want. I was just a bag of bones, hormones, desire, and semen, all
struggling for release.
She removed the jacket, revealing a pale blue blouse that her small
breasts pushed forward enticingly
We sat on the bed, and we kissed.  She toyed with my fingers, and she
kissed me; it was good, it was incredibly good. It was so warm and
friendly, thrilling yet relaxing to kiss a woman. An older woman, a
woman who would show me what I needed to be shown. A woman I didn't
need to fear, a beautiful sexy woman who could take responsibility for
herself.
"Are you afraid?"  She asked me.
"Yes."  I answered, truthfully.
She smiled; "Me too."  She said.
I didn't understand what she had to be afraid of; she was surely
experienced at this, at least a little bit. But her admission eased my
extreme anxiety a little.
She undressed me after a while.  Slowly, gently, she relieved me of
every stitch.  I felt very vulnerable, naked before her; completely
naked, my hard on sticking up embarrassingly in front of me, while she
was still dressed.  And yet, that vulnerability was part of this.  My
surrender to her, a demonstration of my willingness to do whatever she
wanted of me.  She could use me, abuse me; anything, if she would just
be my teacher.  Show me what sex is, teach me the joy. Be my lover.
Once more, her cool fingers soothed my hot aching dick.  I stroked her
face, and kissed her mouth.  It was so very pleasurable; I felt so
relaxed, yet so tense; so helpless, yet completely powerful.  I was
going to do it with her, and I knew it.  She wanted it as much as I
did, and I knew that too.  We were making love, introducing our
bodies.  It didn't matter that she was a different age; it only
mattered that we desired each other.  We found each other attractive,
and we wanted to do it together.
One at a time, I released the buttons of her blouse; I eased it over
her shoulders, and removed it.  I couldn't figure out how to unhook
her bra; she laughed kindly, and showed me the secret of the hook.
At last, her skirt.  Her underwear.  At last, she was as naked as I
was.
At the time, and as I look back on it, I marvel at her beauty.  There
were many beautiful girls, young girls, at my school.  But how many of
them would look like Amelia in 25 years time?  I wondered why she had
chosen me; I wasn't particularly popular at school.  I'd never had a
real girlfriend.  I guess I was pretty good looking though, I was very
fit.  I had dark curly hair and big brown eyes. I was quite shy
normally, maybe that was why.
We continued to kiss, our naked bodies intertwined, my hot penis
clamped between our bellies.  I stroked her lean round ass, her long
legs crossed over me.
I touched breasts for the first time; they were small and soft, with
stiff pink nipples.  She laughed and stroked my neck as I kissed them,
sucking them gently.
After an eternity of bliss, she rolled away from me, onto her back.
Her thighs spread apart enticingly.  I looked at her, savoring the
sight.  She reached for my cock; she pulled.  She pulled me to
herself, and arranged me how she wanted me to be.  She held my cock to
her waiting entrance.  Both her hands wrapped around my young ass, and
very gently, she pressed with her fingertips.  Urging me forward.
I had never managed to imagine how it would feel; the incredible
warmth, the incredible comfort.  The feeling that this was what I was
made for.  That this was what it was all about. The strange euphoria
that was suddenly filling me up through my penis.
The gentle wet pressure of her body against me, engulfing more than
just my young dick, I felt as though my entire being was now held  in
that wet hot tunnel, and I knew that it was the purpose of my very
existence to be there.
Slowly, I began to move within her.  Her hands on my hips showed me
the way, her happy smile informed me that I was doing fine.
She started to come; faster, her hands urged me; her hips bucked
upwards against me, her legs and arms wrapped around me.  She squeezed
and pulled me, she groaned her pleasure and approval into my ear.
I ejaculated into her long body, holding her tightly.
We lay together in silence afterwards.  They didn't seem to be much to
say; it had all been said already.

I felt confused after my first sexual experience; was I different
now?  Was I now a man?
Nothing else had changed; school was still school, my parents were
still my parents.  No, I realized; I hadn't changed. I had learned one
of life's lessons, that was all.  I'd experienced sex, I'd pleasured a
woman, and known the pleasure of doing so.
I wasn't too conflicted about it; her age might have put some people
off, but it didn't bother me much.  She was beautiful; she was nice.
What more could a boy ask for?  I wanted to see her again; I phoned
her.
"It isn't a good time right now, William.  Can you call me back at
12:30?"
Slowly, the clock ground towards the specified time; my palms were
sweating as I dialed her number.  Would she reject me?  Would she see
me again?  It's so hard, being an adolescent.  Fortunately, I didn't
know that at the time.
"Hi, William.  How are you?"
That question again.  Do people really expect an answer?
"I'm great, Amelia.  How are you?"
"Great."
"Um... I..." my normally fluent speech seemed to have dried up.
"Maybe we could get together again soon."  She suggested.
"I'd like that."  I said.
My heart seemed to soar; I didn't walk down the street, I floated.  I
had a girlfriend; a sexual partner.  There was a woman, a beautiful
woman who wanted to have sex with me!

I rode my bicycle to the motel, and locked it near her Volvo.  Nearly
dizzy with anticipation, I knocked on the door.
She was so perfect; tall and confident, yet elegant and feminine.  Her
perfect yellow hair was loose around her shoulders; eyeshadow subtly
accentuated her blue eyes, her light cream cotton trousers matched her
blouse.
I felt myself grin; was this possible?  Was this real?  All she needed
was a halo and a pair of wings.  She was an angel, she was my goddess.
Her body was so slim and firm as I held her to me; her mouth and mine
shared their hunger together.  Her ass; half the 16-year-old girls I
knew didn't have an ass like that.
It was wild, it was great.  We didn't waste much time hanging around,
we both knew why we were there.  We had nothing in common, why
pretend?  We were there for sex.  We had met to do it.
That didn't mean she spread her legs and I stuck it in; but it did
mean we didn't waste much time getting our clothes off and getting
into bed.  The feel of her body, the touch of her hands; her live
gentle lips as she kissed me everywhere.
I've always loved foreplay, from my first sexual experience with
Amelia until today.  I could touch and stroke a woman forever, I
think.  It's so fantastic to me, so exciting, that my orgasm seems
like an anticlimax.
Amelia was always the one to insist we consummate our lovemaking.
Don't get me wrong, I didn't mind.  Penetration is great, too.
In a missionary position, I gave it to her for only a short time
before I erupted.  I knew I had disappointed her; it was too soon.
"It's alright."  She whispered to me, stroking my face and kissing me
gently. Her hands on my ass pulled gently, and then pushed.  Following
her signal, I started to move inside her again.
"You're so beautiful."  She told me, "My beautiful lover.  My young
stud."
I felt my half hard cock swell with pride; I felt that beautiful
tension return, the tension of erection.
She laughed, a beautiful songbird laugh.  Her eyes shone into mine,
and she bucked her lean hips upwards, matching my movements.
Nothing could stop me then; I had the power.  The power to give her
what she wanted.
On and on and on; she laughed, she cried, she came.  She gripped my
shoulders, she grabbed my ass; she got on top and rode me, she rolled
me over on top again, and I gave it to her some more.
Finally, she didn't want any more; she started to pull away from me,
but at that moment I felt another orgasm approach; I held her hips and
bottomed myself in her, ejaculating my adolescent seed into her
again.  She smiled, and pulled my head down between her small soft
breasts.

I was in love.
I knew I shouldn't be, but there was nothing I could do about it.  I
knew I couldn't keep her; I knew it wouldn't last.  How could it?  But
her face was imprinted in my mind, associated with pleasure, hormones,
and orgasm.
If I worked hard in school, it was only to impress Amelia.  When I
worked out, it was to look good, for Amelia.

I got an e-mail; it was a hotmail address, the from name was
"Amelia_love".
"No matter what happens in this crazy world, you will always belong to
me."  Was all it said.
I walked through my day on a cloud of euphoria; my beautiful lover
approved of me.

We always met at a motel.  She never spoke of her husband, never said
a name.  Once or twice she referred to her "other half", how they were
going away for the weekend or would meet for dinner later.
Of course I was jealous; I was mad about this woman, and I knew she
was living with someone else.  But that was the deal, she made no
pretense about it.
"You aren't falling in love with me, are you William?"  She asked me,
stroking my cock as we cuddled together.
"I don't think so."  I lied.
"We have great sex together."  She said, which made me feel better,
"And at your age that can trigger a lot of emotions."
"I really like you, Amelia."  I said, as she went down on me.
Her big beautiful blue eyes stared up at me as she sucked on my cock,
sending waves of terrible pleasure cascading across me.
I felt an urge to keep her somehow; to live with her, have babies, get
married.  I knew that that was all complete bullshit of course, but
the urge itself was disturbing.
An hour or two later, after driving my older lover through three
orgasms, we had our showers and prepared to leave.
"I'm starting to get a bit frightened, William."  She told me; "I'm
afraid we might be getting into trouble."
"What kind of trouble?"
"Emotional trouble."

I saw her only once more, about two weeks later.
"I swore to myself I'd give you up."  She told me as we embraced.
She was so wonderfully slim, made to love.
"This is no good, William."  She said, before kissing me. "Just this
last time, and then we don't do it anymore."  She whispered.
"Alright?"
What could I say?  I was just a boy, and I knew it.
"If it's what you want, Amelia."  I told her.
Despite my sadness at her resolve stop seeing me, or perhaps because
of it, I made love with her as never before; I strove to bind her to
me with pleasure.
I gave it to her as only an adolescent could, frantically pounding her
tight wet hole with my stiff desire, holding her tight as she came. I
continued, giving her no respite; if she wanted to leave me, then I
wanted her to know what she would be missing. She came again, and then
a third time soon afterwards. She was pudding in my arms, I was
superman, or superboy at least. How could she leave me after sex like
that?
But she was too strong, and she didn't call me again.  She didn't
return my calls, either.  That was the deal; sex without commitment, I
had no hold over her.

She had warned me about the pain I would feel; how I would be sure
that she was the only woman for me, but how the pain and discomfort
would fade over time.  She was right, of course, and after a month or
two Amelia was a pleasant memory.  I dated a girl from school, and
when I finally got her into bed, the lessons my older lover had taught
me brought the two of us a lot of pleasure.
I graduated from high school, and was looking forward to going to
university in the fall when I got an e-mail from "ameila_love".
"Hello William.
I can't forget you; our brief time together was truly wonderful.
How are you?  Please write to me.
Kisses, Amelia.

And so we traded a few e-mails.  I told her about my scholarship, and
she asked if I had a relationship.  I told her I had just broken up
with a girl.  She asked if I would like to meet her for dinner.
I said yes.

I just liked her.  I didn't have the childhood crush anymore, but I
really and truly liked Amelia.  I like the way she spoke, the way she
moved.  I always felt good when I was around her.  I wondered if she
wanted to have sex again; I wondered if I did.
Well, I definitely did.

We met at a restaurant; it was exactly the same, yet completely
different.  I'd changed a lot, I realized.  I had only had one lover
other than Amelia, but that meant that I had some experience where
before I'd had none.
It was good to see her again, she was as bright and beautiful as
ever.  She wanted me to tell her everything I'd done in the year since
we'd seen each other.
There was something about her mouth; the way she moved her lips as she
spoke.  I wanted to kiss her again, I wanted to feel her lips around
my cock again.  But the longing was manageable; I would make a play
for her, but if she rejected me then I'd understand.
She didn't reject me.

She took me to her home; the first time I'd been there. As always, we
didn't waste a lot of time. We had some coffee, and then she led me to
her bed.
There was something intimate about being there; something extra. Her
bedroom smelled of her, it reflected her personality.
It was strange to make love with her again; she was so familiar to me,
I knew her and I knew her fine lean body. And yet it was somehow new
again, the excitement of being with her was almost like the first
time; but without the stress.
Amelia was a very attractive woman, almost as physically desirable as
the teenager I'd been dating.
But Amelia was an adult, independent and sophisticated.  A
professional; a person with a wide choice of partners.  There was
something flattering about being the one she chose to be her lover.
There were crows feet at the corners of her mouth and eyes; she seemed
to look at me from slightly farther away than Melissa did; from a
different perspective, as though she saw something more when she
watched me.
It was pleasant to hold her in my arms again, to lie in the valley of
her thighs and feel the heat of her passion.  To be gratified by her
orgasm, to shoot my emissions into her willing body, aiming squarely
into the heart of her orgasm, as if to hose it down.

Afterwards, we lay together, the warmth of our passion slowly
radiating from our heated bodies.
"You know, you're pretty good; for a little guy." she said.
I slapped her face playfully; she was referring to my cock. I'm not
what you would call well hung.
She stroked my chest idly; "I never told you about... my marriage."
"No." I said guardedly. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear about it. It
was an issue we'd always carefully avoided before.
"I don't have a husband. I... I have a wife." She said.
I stared at her; it took me a minute to figure out what she'd just
said. She had a wife? The slim delicate hand that was still caressing
me could never have been anything but female, I noted with relief.
"You can do that in this state?" I asked.
"Oh yes. For several years now. Well, it's called a partnership
agreement, but it works out pretty much the same."
I lay silently as I tried to figure out the meaning of her revelation;
she had no other man. She lived with a woman; she liked heterosexual
sex, and she'd chosen me, a male who wouldn't threaten the stability
of her relationship.
"Are you shocked?"  She asked kindly, her long pale leg sliding across
me.
"Well; yes, I guess I am."  I answered.

"Her name is Anna."  Amelia told me, "She's younger than I am.  I love
her, William.  I want you to know that.  Sometimes I have needs...  I
really like you, and you're great in bed.  Do you understand?"
"I think so."  I told her, and kissed her affectionately.

Amelia phoned me about a week later;
"You told me you're looking for some work for the summer."  She said.
"That's right."  I said
"Anna is repainting our house.  She needs someone to help her."
"You want to hire me to work with your... with Anna?"
She laughed; "If you think you can handle it. We're going to sell up
and leave, Will."
"Leave? Leave to where?"
"I'm buying into a clinic in Denver. We're leaving in the fall."

Anna was a very different kind of woman; she was short, about five
foot 3.  She had very short chestnut hair, and big brown eyes.  She
dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt.  She could almost be a boy
except for her oversized breasts.
She was English; she had a smooth sexy accent.
I had no trouble working for a woman; I had no trouble communicating
with women, young or old.  Her sexual orientation didn't bother me.
But it was a little bit difficult knowing that my lover was in love
with her.
Anna was competent carpenter.  There was more than painting to be
done, there were general repairs and some yardwork.  I was impressed
with her, how she seemed to know exactly what should be done, and how
she treated me.  She was friendly yet businesslike.
It was odd to work with her, though; she was so clearly female, yet
somehow she walked and talked like a male.  Not butch; she wasn't
trying to be masculine.  She just wasn't very feminine.  Except for
the breasts, of course.
Her hands were small, but rough from her work.  Her shoulders were
firm and wide; she had a marvelous rear end.
I suppose you've figured out where this is going to end up; and you're
right.  But I had no idea, I couldn't help but notice her strange
attractiveness, but I had no idea I would end up doing it with her.
We were alone together most of the day, while Amelia was working at
the clinic.  We were sitting on the patio, having lunch;
"How long have you known Amelia?"  She asked me.
"A few years."  I answered her.
"When was the first time you slept with her?"  She asked.
That one threw me.
"It's alright.  She told me about it, Amelia and I don't keep secrets
from each other."  She said.
"Then why did you ask?"  I said
"Just to see if you would tell me."
I couldn't think of anything to say for a minute; I liked Anna, and I
was enjoying this job. I didn't like the idea that there was something
awkward between us.
"She told me she loves you."
My boss laughed; "That's nice if you to say, William.  She told me
you're hot."
She grinned at me; I grinned back.  We had something in common; a
lover.

Somehow, the ice was broken.  Over the next week, I found myself
opening up to the lesbian woman like I'd never opened myself to
anyone.  No one ever shown much interest before, I suppose.
Leaving out the graphic detail, I told her of my tryst with her wife.
I told her of the girls I'd liked, and the one I went out with.  She
punched me on the shoulder and asked me for intimate physical details
of the girl.  We giggled together as I told Anna of Melissa's plump
breasts, and her conceit about her own appearance.
"I can't stand girls like that."  Anna told me, "Spending all their
time preening themselves in front of the mirror."
"She was damned cute, Anna."
"I'm a married woman, William."  She laughed, and we went back to
work

She told me of affairs she'd had; a Frenchwoman she'd lived with, how
she met Amelia on vacation.
I made no outward sign, but I found it exciting to hear these things;
Anna never got graphic or anything, she'd just tell me how she felt
about being with someone.  About the emotions of it; emotions that I
hadn't yet experienced.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked me one day as we were taking a
break.
"Sure." I told her.
"You're just saying that." she said sadly.
"No I'm not! You're a fine looking woman, Anna." I said, before
suddenly feeling a bit self conscious.
"Amelia is the pretty one." She said.
"Well, she's got the legs, Anna, but you have the chest." I told her.
She smiled at me, and arched her back, pushing her tits out,
stretching her tee-shirt. "That's true." She said, "To tell you the
truth, though, these things are such a pain, I've often thought of
getting them reduced."
"That would be a shame." I told her.
"I suppose. But they're starting to hang some."
I thought I could feel myself start to blush.
"Do you think big breasts still look good when they hang?"  She asked
me.
"Um; I don't know.  I guess it depends."
"On what?"
"Well; breasts don't exist in isolation.  It depends on the woman."
"Well, I'm the woman.  Do you think hanging breasts look OK on me?"
"Well I don't know.  I've never seen them!"  I told her.
"Fucking guys.  It's all you ever think about, but you still can't
answer a simple question on the subject."
"Not if I don't have enough information, no."
"Okay."  She said, and pulled off her T-shirt; "Here they are."
I stared dry mouthed at her shirtless torso; her large breasts were
supported by a substantial bra.  The wide straps over her shoulders
supported the weight of them.  They stood out in front of her proudly;
try as she might, Anna would always be a woman, as long as she had
those things attached to her chest.
"Well?"  She asked, staring at me with a look of defiance; although
what she was attempting to defy I couldn't quite figure out.
"They're... lovely, Anna."  I told her, not knowing whether to stare at
them or tear my eyes away.
"But do they hang too much?" she insisted.
"How should I know?  You're wearing a bra." I said.
"Oh alright."  She said, "I'll have to let you have a real look." And
she took off the bra.
It was about that time that I started to wonder if she really wanted
an opinion of her anatomy from a friend, or something more.
Her breasts did hang; but they were great full breasts, breasts to be
proud of.  The nipples were prominent, standing proudly forward.
"You can close your mouth, if you want."  She said with just a hint of
triumph.
I did, and swallowed.
"Well I think they're gorgeous."  I said, "I think you should keep
them."
She laughed, which caused them to shake alluringly.
"Do you want to fondle them?"  She asked me in a level voice. "It's ok
with me. I mean, I know that guys all want to; the things just hang
there doing nothing all day but weigh me down, so I guess someone
should get some fun out of them."
My mouth was completely dry; I just nodded my head.
"Go on, then."  She said, leaning backwards, supporting herself with
her palms on the table we were sitting on.
In slow motion, I reached out my hand; tenderly, I put the palm under
one breast, and lifted it slightly, causing it to bulge forward.  My
hand traced over its shape, tested its elasticity, its firm natural
mass.  I couldn't resist the temptation, and I lightly rolled the
nipple between my thumb and forefinger.  My eyes moved up to her face;
her big brown orbs stared back me, the invitation written clearly in
them.
I hopped off the table, and faced her; my fingers traced around her
rib cage, to her naked back.  They ran slowly up her spine, to her
neck.  Over her shoulders and down her arms.
Anna wore no makeup, no perfume, and no jewelry of any kind.  Her hair
was short, short as a man's.  And yet I found her very desirable.
Slowly, very slowly I brought my mouth closer to her face; I held her
head in my hands, waiting for her to object.  She didn't.
My lips met her lips, and I felt a surge of adrenaline as we kissed.
Her hands circled my back, and then we were holding each other close.
For a long time, we held that strange position.  Anna sitting on the
table, while I stood in front of her, my hands tracing across her
smooth naked back, her large breasts sandwiched between us.
I was afraid of breaking the spell, I didn't want to stop touching
her, kissing her.  There is some idea that making love with a friend
will spoil the friendship; it could be true, but I didn't care at that
moment.  I wanted her, and I was willing to take the risk if she was;
she was 10 years older than me, and it was up to her.
I stripped off my T-shirt, so I could feel her lovely boobs against my
naked skin.
She hopped off the table, and walked into the bedroom without a word.
She turned to face me, and unbuckled her jeans, watching my expression
closely.
She didn't have the long legs of her wife, but she did have a
beautiful round behind.  I stared back at her as I kicked off my
shoes, and slid my work pants from myself.
My hard on stood in front of me, stood between us.  It bobbed a little
bit in anticipation.
My friend, my lover's lover.  She stretched herself out on the bed,
and looked at me expressionlessly.  As if unsure what expression would
be appropriate.  I joined her; my body joined her body.
Small and strong, warm and voluptuous.  Healthy and smooth, yet
hesitant and unsure.
Her vagina accepted my male organ; she wanted to experience me, she
wanted to try what her lover had enjoyed. She was tight against me,
her arms and legs clamped me.
I kissed her as she fumbled with my hard cock, fitting it against
herself, writhing slightly as it entered her. She was wet inside; Anna
might have been in a lesbian relationship, but she was clearly a woman
[like Amelia] who enjoyed sex with a male as well.
I drove my cock in and out of her as I looked into her eyes.  I
couldn't quite tell what I saw there; confusion and desire, attraction
and repulsion.
In all of our frank discussions, she'd never told me of being
attracted to a male.  I couldn't figure out how we were suddenly in
bed together, having sex.
She seemed incredibly tense; I tried my best to make her come, but I
couldn't.
"It's alright."  She eventually whispered to me kindly, "Go ahead."
"You mean I should..."
"Yes."
 I released myself inside her voluptuous little body, firing my goo
into her for those few seconds of bliss that is our all too brief
reward for all that went before.
Twenty minutes later, we were dressed again and painting the living
room.

I felt weird about it; I regretted having sex with Anna.
That surprised me. I'd never felt that way about sex before. I'd
always felt great afterwards, in fact. I'd appreciated being chosen by
Amelia, I'd never once had a twinge of doubt that it was anything but
a good thing [despite her telling me she was married]. I'd dated and
seduced Melissa, and that was pretty good, too.
There were a few issues with Anna; she was my friend, she was my
lover's wife [I didn't like the idea that we might have betrayed
Amelia]. But mainly, I realized, it was that she hadn't come.
It was the first time that had happened to me [but not the last, I'm
sorry to say]. I felt the gloom of shame, defeat, and failure.
I shouldn't have; Anna liked girls, and I knew that. But emotions
don't often submit to logic.

At last, the day was over; we cleaned up our work area and I was about
to leave when Amelia came home.
She seemed to sweep by us in a slim pale blur of efficient cool
energy.
"Are you two hungry? She called out from the kitchen.
Well, I couldn't say that I'd just had bad sex with Anna, and I wanted
to leave. So I stayed for dinner, as I often did.
Amelia was bubbly and happy; she seemed oblivious to my [our?] unusual
silence. She was such a lovely person; she had so much life in her.
I hadn't made love with Amelia during the weeks I'd been working at
her house. I'd wanted to [of course], but she had never made any move
to be alone with me. I'd assumed she didn't want to complicate things.
So I was pretty surprised when she asked me if I'd like to spend the
night, while Anna was sitting right there at the table with us.
I wasn't sure what to say; I wasn't sure what was being offered, let
alone the consequences of accepting. Amelia? Amelia and Anna
together?
I looked at my partner in grime, my lesbian girlfriend Anna.
"It's alright, Will. I don't mind, I'm going to a party for a friend
tonight."
I somehow didn't believe her. A party after dinner? Didn't mind? It
didn't seem to fit.
Then Amelia was standing next to Anna's chair, tousling her short
hair. Anna looked up at her partner, and Amelia bent and kissed her.
I'd seen them kiss before, but I'd always forced myself to look away.
This time, I watched.
I had been put on the spot, I was being squeezed between them [but not
physically, unfortunately]. To hell with it, I thought, and watched.
The kiss was beautiful; truly beautiful. Their lips knew each other,
they each conformed to the shape of the other. It didn't last long,
just a few sweet seconds; a few seconds of intimacy between them that
somehow set everything right.
I caught Anna's eye as she left about 20 minutes later; she smiled
slightly, and nodded to me.
It really was all very odd, but what do you want from me? I was 17 for
Christ's sake!
Amelia's long able fingers traced up my back; she kissed my neck.
"I'm looking forward to this." She said.

I suppose I could have just asked her what the hell was the story; but
my mouth was too busy kissing her. And then I could have asked, but to
answer, she would have had to stop the fantastic blowjob she was
lovingly administering. And you just can't question a woman while
you're cock is up inside her, which was the situation for the rest of
the evening.
She was just so incredibly womanly; so elegant, even during orgasm. So
long and thin, like a model or something. Her eyes were so bright, she
just seemed to enjoy what we were doing so much, that I had to keep
striving to please her.
And I did.
Eventually, I had to come, though. Her small pert breasts against my
chest, her fingers on my ass, her hips rising up to meet each stroke,
her crystal clear eyes boring into me.
I slept there, in her bed. It was terribly awkward to come out into
the kitchen the next day and have breakfast with Anna.

She tried to act normal, whatever that is. How should a girl act
towards her lover when he'd just spent the night with her other lover?
Amelia had left early, and we were alone. Anna made sausages and an
omelet.
"How was your night?" she asked me.
"Well... it was... good." I answered, very much on my guard.
"You like Amelia, don't you?" she asked.
There was some kind of game going on, and I couldn't figure out the
rules. I was too inexperienced to do so, and too emotionally raw. And
I knew it.
"Well, yeah sure. I like Amelia a lot, Anna. I like you a lot, too."
"I bet she's better in bed than I am." She said.
I felt like I was a ball being batted back and forth between them; or
rather, a pair of balls, with the rest of me unfortunately attached.
"I thought you knew what she's like in bed." I said, feeling proud at
my clever evasion of the question.
Anna laughed, releasing some of the tension between us.
"You're right, I do know. She's a sweetheart, don't you think?"
"Yes, she is,"
"Did she suck your cock?"
That threw me; Anna had never said anything so graphic to me before.
"Yes." I told her.
She looked at me evenly, thinking about it; her wife, her partner, her
lover. Her blue eyed Amelia sucking her helper's young penis.
"I can do that too." She said.
I felt my cock pulse at the thought; Anna's cute face in my lap, her
lips around my shaft as her big eyes stared up at me...
"It's not a competition, Anna." I told her.
"You like Amelia better." She said, slightly bitterly.
"That's not it. It's just that... it didn't really go very well
yesterday, did it?"
"What do you mean?"
"You didn't... come. I couldn't satisfy you." I blurted, happy to get my
real thoughts into the morning light.
She was silent for a moment.
"I liked it anyway." She said.
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I don't always... I don't always come, Will. But I like
the feeling. I like to make love, and I like it when you... um.... When
you come inside me. I love Amelia, but sometimes I need to feel that
stuff inside me."
"Oh." I said, pretending to understand.
"But you didn't like it with me." She concluded.
"That's not true." I said, trying to make her feel better.
"You liked it? Doing it with me? Even though my tits hang and I have
short hair and short legs?"
"I think you're beautiful, Anna." I told her, which was true.
Anna smiled at me happily, and sat down on my lap, facing me. She took
my very surprised face between her hands, and she kissed me.
Now look, I'm only human; my cock grew, and my ego grew even faster.
Who cared what the game was? Fuck the rules, there's no such thing. A
woman was throwing herself at me, a big tited beauty in the prime of
life. She wanted my young ass, and she could have it!
I put my arms around her hips, and squeezed her muscular little body
against me. I kissed her aggressively, mashing my lips against hers,
biting her. She squirmed on my lap, sliding her weight over my hardon.
Back to the bed, the same bed I'd slept in, with Amelia. Naked, we
kissed, stroked, and hugged.
I licked her, kissing and sucking her clit as I stroked her tight
little ass and flat belly. She held my head, directing my tongue to
where she wanted it.
She sucked me; that was wonderful. She was so androgynous, male hair
around a feminine face, a beautiful neck on smooth round shoulders.
She sucked me until I was nearly there, and then we switched again,
and I went down on her again.
The sun was high in the sky as I entered her at last; she was so
smooth, young, and tight.
And she came, this time.
A groaning, throbbing, genuine orgasm; the beautiful spasms rocked
her, and she gripped me tightly, pulling painfully at my hair.
My pent up jism exploded, my seed pumped into her waiting unprotected
tubes.

Amelia came home at about 5:00. I heard laughter from the kitchen.
"Hey, stud! Want some coffee?" The tall blond called out.
I cringed; Anna had told her.  Shit.
I went in to face the music.

My two elder lovers' eyes bored into me as I entered the kitchen.
There was a silence that could be cut with a chain saw as I sat down,
as if I hadn't had sex with both of them in the previous 24 hours.
"So, hot shot; you've been double dipping." Amelia said sternly.
I felt my face start to burn; what is the correct response in such a
situation?
But then I saw that Anna was bursting in her attempt to stop from
laughing; suddenly, the absurdity of the situation hit me. Amelia was
the one who'd started it, after all.
I started to laugh; Anna started to laugh; then Amelia joined in. we
were roaring with hilarity until none of us could breathe.

So I moved in for the rest of the summer; my summer of kinky sex.
We all slept together; literally, at least. Somehow, I didn't have the
gumption to initiate anything. I felt somehow inhibited about coming
on to either of them, lest I alienate the other. So I waited for them
to start something.
The first morning, when Anna left us in bed, Amelia rolled over to me
immediately, and we made it together.
Then Anna wanted it in the afternoon, and I made love with her.
In the evening, we all relaxed and watched TV, then went to bed; and
slept.
Somehow, there was no sex for a while after that, as though being
around all the time had taken my magic away. I put my arm around Anna
and started to kiss her one afternoon, but after a minute or two she
said we should get back to work.
Amelia gave me a couple of blowjobs; I know most guys think that's as
good as it gets, but what I like is to hold a woman in my arms and
make her come.
Then one night, I woke up, feeling some movement in the bed; in the
dim light coming in through the widows from the streetlights outside,
I saw them kissing.
Anna was on her back, and Amelia was lying on her, face to face.
Amelia was stroking Anna's face, and Anna's hands gently caressed the
older woman's back.
I didn't move; I just watched them. They were taking pains to be
silent, they obviously didn't want me to wake up.
Their lips touched with a gentle quiet intensity; their movements,
their contact, was incredibly tender. And yet there was a passion
between them that I didn't think I should disturb.
After a while, Amelia turned around carefully, so they were in a 69.
They were both quivering slightly as their heads started moving in
each other's groins.
They seemed so intimate, so intent on each other. It was something
between the two of them, if they'd wanted my cock to be a part of what
they were up to, they would have said so, I reasoned. If they'd wanted
me to be a part of it, they wouldn't be doing it silently, late in the
night while they thought I was asleep.
I watched without moving. It made me horny and jealous, just how each
of them must have felt when they knew I'd been with the other. Not
jealous of the pleasure they were enjoying, but of not being a part of
it.
Anna stiffened first, her shallow breathing the only audible signal of
her orgasm. She then drove her face deeper into her wife's groin,
gripping Amelia's slim ass tightly, until I saw the long legs
straighten, and the toes curl.
I resolved to leave them; I was a fifth wheel. They both liked me, but
they loved each other.

I woke the following morning in the most pleasurable way a male can;
with a lover sucking my cock.
I looked down to see Amelia's blond head, her bright blue eyes
laughing at me.
"You were awake last night, weren't you?"
"Yes."
"I saw you watching us."
There were no more words; I could hear the shower running as her mouth
moved up to mine.
Her hips were so holdable, her warm smooth body just so damn fuckable.
Soon she was below me as my teenaged dick pounded her without mercy,
showing her what her little hole was really made for.
She groaned and clutched my ass as she came; I did the same, somehow
wanting to be through before Anna came out of the shower.

The thing was, I wanted it every day, preferably with each of them.
That was my idea of what cohabitation was all about. But Anna and
Amelia were more mature, and more relaxed about sex. Once a week
seemed to suit them.
They looked at each other in a certain way, they spoke to each other
with a certain familiarity, yet with reverence. They had a
relationship of which sex was only a small part.
I was getting aggravated, and was working on a way to tell them that I
wanted to move out, when suddenly they were both all over me again.
For several days, Anna wanted it at lunch, and Amelia wanted it after
dinner. I was a happy fucking machine, high on hormones. Anna, Amelia,
Anna again; I was superman, I was unstoppable. My lesbian ladies were
both hot for my cock, they craved my juice, and I was overcome by my
own smugness.

We seemed to go though another dry spell after that, as though the
intensity of our activities had burned us all out.
The week before they were to move out to Denver, though, my dreams
finally became a reality.
To my surprise, in was Anna who made the first move. She snuggled up
against me when we went to bed, reached over and started to stroke my
cock.
Soon we were hugging and kissing under our covers, her hungry mouth
all over my face and neck.
"What's going on over there?" Amelia said in the dark.
"What do you think, sugar lips?" Anna replied.
Then we were three; smooth female limbs were everywhere, breasts and
lips and tongues stimulating every nerve ending I possessed. There was
love; between the two of them, at least, and somehow I was in the
middle, awash in their stream. My mouth seemed to fill with the
sensual joy of them, my cock was never ignored.
First penetration went to Amelia; Anna lay beside us, stroking my ass
and balls while I tried to keep from exploding.
After I did, Anna sucked my sticky dick until I was hard again, and
then I gave it to her; and to Amelia, and then to Anna again.
The house was ready for sale; there wasn't much to do when there were
no appointments with prospective buyers. Not much to do but make love,
that is.
Those two milked me like a cow; a very happy cow.
They kissed me and screwed me, they told me I was great, they told me
I was what men should be like, but never were. Always respectful, and
usually stiff.
I licked them and fucked them, I kissed and caressed them; we all knew
it would end when they left, that was the point. It was a one week
holiday, as much as you can eat.
We spent our days mostly naked, lolling around in bed. Not that I
could do it nonstop, even when I was a teenager, but it was so
blissful to just lie with them like that, touching each other gently
as we watched TV or listened to some music.
Amelia said I was now an honorary woman; I knew she meant it as a
compliment.
They kept me hard most of the time, and I fired load after load into
the two of them with wild abandon.

I watched them drive away from my town, from my life; it was a
transient thing, that had always been made clear. I was their little
heterosexual diversion, and it was time for them to get on; and time
for me to head for school.
There were a few soppy emails, and then they seemed to disappear from
my inbox, if not from my memories. Five years have passed now, and
I've got a degree, a job, and a girlfriend my own age.
And then, back in 2002, I got a copy of the "Bugbear" virus sent from
Amelia's computer.
That virus sent itself with a random file from the infected computer;
I couldn't resist taking a look.
It was a letter from Amelia to her mother. A thank you note for the
presents she'd sent for the children; Amelia and Anna's four-year-old
children.
It's all so clear to me now, the reason they both would want to do it
like crazy for a week, then not at all. Their children were not
accidental, they were planned. I hadn't been hired just to help with
the repairs on the house.
I think I'll write to them again; perhaps I've finally worked up the
nerve.
Hey, dreams are free!
Ace 2007
See my other stories on; http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/aceinthe_hole/www/
And feel free to write me an email; storyace@hotmail.com

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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