Subject: Reminiscing a Three-some Wannabe (MFF)
Written by: Randy Vandy <rndyvndy@aol.com>
Posted by: Kelly <pghkelly@yahoo.com>
Sent: Wed, November 4, 2009 10:12:10 AM
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!!!WARNING!!!!
This file is a work of fiction containing sexually explicit material which may
include depictions of underage, nonconsensual and unprotected sex as well as
incest and adultery. It is not intended to implicate any person or action by
them or me, nor advocate such practices. If you can't separate fantasy from
reality, get professional help - FAST!
The material is distributed as "For Adults Only" and possession by a minor is
strictly forbidden. If you are not legally empowered to be in possession of
this material, do not read it and delete it immediately.
This work is copyrighted to the author ©2010. It may be posted to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites so long as no changes
are made AND the author information is retained.
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Summary:
Thanks for your wonderful enviable cum-provoking sexual saga, via ASSTR.
Compellingly authentic, but too tantalizingly brief! Any chance of a bit more
circumstantial detail -- especially on the interpersonal build-ups (rather than
the blow-by-blow, so to speak)? And, as usual, thanks to Kelly, that assiduous
keeper and disseminator of delicious nastiness. (I'm tempted to pass some of my
own more modest erotobilia through her).
How's this for a starter, although it's already in Joan's three-some archive?
Randy (British reading).
Randy Vandy
PREAMBLE
========
I have always had an obsession with sex—mostly thwarted. At five I got caned
(legal in England then) for organizing a pull-down-knickers chase in the school
yard. When I was nine I won my first and only elective office, being voted
dirtiest boy in the school by a jury of my peers. By most people’s standards I
suppose I have had good innings (no pun intended), after a slow start (reluctant
virgin till 19, though that wasn’t a rare deprivation then).
However, my demand for nookie has always run way ahead of supply, through
timidity, scruples, and the old misconception that seduction is a zero-sum game—
what I won, she lost. My Catholic relatives almost scared me off “self-abuse”.
After a glorious sexual rampage in my 20s, I got married and sexual frustration
re-asserted itself with a vengeance.
I am now a 75-year-old with lingering satyriasis. I have been slightly—but
firmly—married for the past 40 years. I have much to be grateful to my wife
for—not the least for three adorable daughters (whom I have never fancied, but
the grandkids are another thing…).
The trouble is, I am a relentless polygamist and my wife is a possessive
“nonogamist”. She has never been much into sex, and can’t see why I should be.
She even tries to sabotage my self-service and internet ogling—luckily with no
success. I must have managed a score of extra-maritals over the years (not to
speak of the occasional gay glory-hole during dry periods).
I have limited my dalliances with married women, partly to be less threatening
to my wife, when she catches me (as she almost always does—I’m an inept deceiver
and “my wife understands me”). Although my intent was noble—not to mess up the
marriage prospects of a single gal… all but one of the marrieds ended up leaving
their husbands. Flatteringly, they turned to me to fill the marital vacancy,
but I wasn’t up for that. (“You don’t really love me!” , “Well I like you and
lust after you.”, “Big deal!”, “ That’s two out of three. You could win
Wimbledon with that”.)
I’m something of an interloper in this threesome company… a triogamist manqué,
you might say. I have only had one real MFM relationship, and that was barely
consummated. (I had a furtive public FMF groping in Trafalgar Square under
cover of my great-coat. However, the lass I really fancied found the FF part
“highly satisfactory,” and I never saw, let alone bedded, her again.)
But your chronicle of triplings (vs. couplings, get it?) gave me an inspiration.
How about a nice stable couple to slake my thirsty libido? No romantic
entanglement, but another chap to share the load if I’m not quite up (so to
speak) to the task. (I do still manage a Viagra-free nightly eruption, with
web-porn assist, but I’m not sure I can still trust John Thomas to behave
uprightly in company).
Can an old gaffer interest appealing partners? Surely I’m a trouble-free
improvement over masturbation? People say I’m fun to be with, easy-going,
affectionate, considerate and more disposed to give than to receive (and quite
good at it), gentle and considerate. (I’ve always taken “no” for an answer,
ever since I pressured a young lady to let me have my way with her, gallantly
went to Sweden to marry her when she announced she was with child, and came home
when it proved to be a false alarm.) I have some downsides, too, which you can
look up in my profile, under randyvany0925, on Adultfriendfinders.com.
QUASI-THREESOME TALES
=====================
When I was a big-shot senior at a British grammar school, I couple of giggly,
but not unappetizing, 14-year-old groupies managed to steal my prized fountain
pen. They said I could have it back if I could find it secreted about their
persons. I invited them up to the deserted “Boy Prefects Room,” and began a
meticulous and leisurely body search.
I had one damsel on her back on the table, and had just got into her damp
knickers (having carefully explored all other possible hiding places), while her
chum sat quietly in eager anticipation. Then an enraged teacher burst in,
alerted by excited giggling from his office next door, and the promise of my
first threesome was brought to an abrupt blue-balled end.
My sole threesome proper (so to speak) took place years later.
In the early 60s (!) I had just moved from UK to take up a visiting lectureship.
I was living “in sin” (as it was then viewed) with Anna, an adventurous lady
whom I had met at my going-away party in London, and who followed me across the
Pond.
Our landlord Ron was a renowned full professor whom I thought I had to placate
by confessing my depraved misuse of his premises. Far from being affronted, he
invited us for friendly “folk-dancing” with his comely girl-friend, at his cozy
apartment in Washington (where he was serving as advisor to the Secretary of
Defense, who called him up on business while we were in mid-romp—really!).
His place had a love-in grotto, tastefully done up with a Polynesian motif, and
subdued lighting and music, to get us in the mood. Alas, as a foursome, it was
a bust. We started cautiously and gently, plugging our own ladies, up to the
point where Ron was directing traffic, holding the base of my cock and jiggling
it inside Anna. Entering, I thought, into the spirit of the thing, I grasped
his beautiful 9-incher, which was temporarily taking the air. He softly pushed
my hand away, saying he “wasn’t into that “. Then, as we girded our loins (so
to speak) to switch partners, Anna burst into uncontrollable sobbing. I suppose
she got erotic indigestion, or some kind of guilt trip. Amazing to me, because
she had let on earlier, with some pride, that at Oxford she had been servicing
up to four lovers a week… but in sequence. Ah well, the mysteries of the female
psyche!
Any way, Anna and I repaired to another bedroom, and I stayed to comfort her
until she stopped sniffling and dropped off into troubled sleep. I crept back
to Ron and Dorris, and we went through the body-sharing motions, but my hard
(sic) wasn’t in it by then.
Months later, after Anna and I broke up, Ron and Dorris invited me back for a
threesome, this time in his large rural home, outside Boston. We pleasured
each other nicely, short of intercourse, but when she tried to finish me off in
her mouth, I couldn’t rise to the occasion. Eventually she gave up, complaining
of an aching jaw, murmuring ruefully that I must find her too old, at forty (I
was 32). Truth is, she was too much of a classic trophy blonde to my more modest
taste, but that wouldn’t normally have stopped me. Performance anxiety, I
suppose.
Over the next few years, we again tried a foursome, first with my new wife, and
then with my mistress, but my lady partners both balked at anything physical
happening, and I never got the chance to put Dorris’ jaw muscles to another
test. I introduced Ron and Dorris to several friends with whom they
(reportedly) had a great time. One of them, Steve, tried to “date” Dorris on
her own… which was an absolutely no-no for both R&D. Ron later mildly
complained about it to me, as the one who had introduced Steve to their wife-
swapping circle (which I no longer had a screwable entrance ticket to...).
Randy Vandy - 3some