"Circles" Part 2

“Park in the driveway, not the garage,” she said when we got to our house.

I did.

She got out of the car and paused. “Well, now what?” I asked.

“I want to practice. You be Glen. Come in, Glen, we’ll have a drink here
instead of at Frank’s.”

That answered all of my questions, addressed all of my uncertainties. The
show was on!

She led me into the house, and said “Here, sit in the den. I’ll get us
something to drink.”

She was gone for ten minutes, it seemed like an hour, and came back holding
a small bottle of Asti, but that wasn’t the best part. The best part was
she came back wearing a robe.

“Open this, Glen. I want to celebrate,” she said.

“Celebrate what?”

“The end of the course, and learning new things. Having new adventures,”
she said as I poured two flutes of bubbly.

She sat next to me on the sofa, took a sip from the glass, and casually
rested her hand on my thigh.

I must have groaned, because she said “Does that bother you?”

I somehow grunted a “No” when she turned, her hand moved to my groin, and
her lips met mine. “My husband,” she said into my mouth, talking though the
kiss, “says it’s OK to seduce you. I hope that’s OK with you.” Her hand and
her tongue were both busy.

I pulled at her robe, got it off her shoulders, while she grabbed at my
pants. My priorities changed, the hell with her robe! I pulled at shirt, at
belt, kicked at shoes, and in a shorter time than it takes to tell about it
got naked, and in as short a time we were back wrapped in each other’s
arms, she was rubbing at my back, then my hip, and finally, caressing my
penis.

“Is this what you want me to do, Ed?” she asked, dropping out of character.

“Oh yes,” you’re doing it perfectly.”

“And this?”

She slid from the sofa, pushed me flat on it, a hand still on my groin, and
kissed at my chest, teasing my own nipples, while she looked at my face, my
eyes, trying to see inside me..

“Oh, yes.”

“And you want me to go down on him, too, don’t you? You want me to do
this?”

She moved so she was at my groin, and not breaking eye contact with me,
opened her mouth, guided the tip of my cock over her lips, she licked at
it, then, still looking at me, took me into her mouth, caressing me with
both her hand and her tongue.

“You want to see me do this?” She moved again, she was working at the lower
side of my shaft, at my balls, I could feel the heat of her breath, the
warmth and wetness of her tongue as she explored that sensitive area
between genitals and anus, as she drove me wild.

She could feel me start to cum, but squeezed my penis’s head in that old
fashioned but effective way of controlling premature ejaculations. “Not
that way, you’re not getting off that easy,” she told me.

She waited long enough to be sure I was in control then stood, the robe
fell off -- she was naked under it. I moved or she moved me, I’m not sure
which, but somehow there was enough room on the sofa for her to squat over
my cock, and enough room for her to lower herself on me.

I looked at her riding me, at her breasts moving with her, and thought of
Glen being in my place, having this very alive and vibrant and sexy woman
on him. I looked at my cock being exposed, then hidden, as she rode me. “So
you want to see me do this with Glen, do you?” she said. “You want to see
me on him like this, with his erection in me? You want to see him cum? Do
you want to see me cum, too, like I’m about to, right noowww. . .?”

and she wasn’t squatting any more, her whole body was on mine with only her
pelvis tilted and moving so she could contain my cock as she let herself
go.

A minute later, still moving, she kissed me. “I orgasmed, but you still
feel hard. Did you come?”

“Not yet, that control squeeze you did to me really worked.”

Our den sofa is pretty long. She began sliding down my body, kissing her
way over chest, over navel. “If Glen has the same problem, Ed, I intend to
fix it this way.”

I was wet with her juices, she had never done this before after coming, but
soon enough she was stroking me. “Is this what you want to see?” she asked,
and. . .

Well, let me ask you. Have you ever had a woman masturbate you until you
ejaculated

while she was going down on you, and then look up at you while your balls
emptied? And smile at you? And say “That was good?”

And then ask “Is that what you want to see?” again, because if you had, you
can understand how fast you can regain an erection. It’s amazingly fast.

That’s how we spent Sunday.

I know there was a Monday that week. I know, because somehow I put together
the details of the deal I had negotiated when I was away. Somehow the
contract got done, somehow it got Fed Ex’ed, and somehow I got home from
work at 8:30, just beat.

Jean had supper waiting, and you can guess where the conversation went. In
the end I found myself promising there’d be no bad feelings either way, but
I really wanted her to go to class -- she made me say the words -- and
really wanted her to invite Glen to our house for a drink, and really
wanted her to seduce him.

I might have been tired, might have been fucked out from a Friday and a
Saturday and a Sunday of sex, but not so fucked out that Monday night
didn’t happen, too. That proved to Jean that my hopes for Tuesday night
hadn’t changed.

At last it was Tuesday morning. “I’ll be leaving for class at 6, will you
be home by then?”

“Honey, I don’t know, I’m still doing backgorund things for that deal. I
might be just as late tonight.”

“My class ends at 9:30.”

“You can bet I’ll be around by then, babe. That’s something I wouldn’t miss
for anything.”

“What if you’re not here?”

“I will be. Look, my car’ll be in the garage, you’ll have to say you drove
me to the airport if Glen asks about that. But damn it, just go on, do it,
go on with the show!”

“I will. If you want me to stop you’ll have to tell me on your cell phone
or something, or it’ll be way too late.”

“OK, I’ll call if I want you to stop, but that’s a call you shouldn’t
expect to get.”

“We’ll see, bug guy, we’ll see. Uh, what if he doesn’t come to class?”

“Jean honey, it would take wild horses to keep him away. Trust me about
that, he’ll be there.”

Don’t you just love having to deal with the details at work when you’re
mind is focused on sex? And then there’s time. Einstein talked about time
slowing down when you go fast, that time is relative. I promised myself I
wouldn’t look at a clock any more often than every half hour. Somehow my
half hours took ten minutes of clock time, the day dragged. A late phone
call from Chicago kept me at my desk until 5:30. That was just as well, I
didn’t want to see Jean before she left for her class.

A McDonald’s dinner -- who the hell was worried about long term effects of
that kind of food when all I was thinking about was so short term?

I was home at 7. I got curtains and drapes and blinds arranged so that
views were perfect into the bedroom and den, and I fixed the motion
detector lamps and landscape lighting

at the back of the house so they wouldn’t be going on at the wrong times.
Our back porch was enclosed, I pulled the screens shut, arranged chairs at
each of the windows, moved other things that might go bump in the night out
of the way, and waited.

And waited.

OK, I masturbated, too. That didn’t take long. I just went into the den,
got on the sofa where Jean and Glen would be sitting, and let my
imagination go.

The second time I did that took longer, but even then it was only 8:30.

Pay TV offered an adult film of the man/man/woman flavor. That got my
interest! Hmm, I wonder if Jean would like that.

It got to be 9:15. I cleaned up what mess there was, and took a triple
martini onto the porch. The reclining chair I set near the window was
perfect, a little tilt of my head and the view of the sofa was all I could
hope for. I practiced moving in the mostly dark the 40 feet to the second
chair by the bedroom window. That was perfect, too.

Finally, after 15 minutes that seemed to take 2 hours to go by, I heard the
garage door open, then close. A few seconds later a kitchen light came on,
and Jan came through the den turning on lamps and went to the front door. A
moment or two after that she came back to the den with a man who had to be
Glen. Glen was in inch or two taller than Jean, that put him a bit under 6
feet tall, he was thin, casually dressed. I could hear well enough to know
he said something about it being a nice house, while Jean adjusted lighting
to just dim enough, and pointed the remote at the fireplace, igniting the
gas logs. I had forgotten about that. Another remote had the Bose music
system start, filling both the den and the porch with soft noises. “I had
thought we might go to Frank’s again,” Glen was saying as he followed her
instructions to sit on the sofa.

“Frank’s, then the beach?” Jean asked with a smile.

“I didn’t think you’d go to the beach again, not after last week, Jean.
That was embarrassing for me.”

“It shouldn’t. Besides, I think my house is better than Frank’s for a
drink, Glen, and a lot better than the beach, too. Don’t you?”

He couldn’t have any doubt about her intentions after she said that, could
he?

“Uh, no, no, I guess not.”

“You were drinking gin on the rocks at Frank’s,” Jean said, pouring him a
Sapphire: gin doesn’t get better than that, not at our house. She poured a
little for herself, and sat beside him. “A toast, to the end of our class,”
she offered, and glasses clicked.

She carefully put her glass on the coffee table, glanced around the room,
took a little too long looking at the window where I was: the sofa faced
the fireplace and the window, then she took a noticeable deep breath, and
stood. “Glen,”: she said, “I think this is where the heroine is supposed to
say ‘I want to get into something more comfortable.’ So, Glen, unless you
have an objection, I’d like you to enjoy your drink and the fireplace,
while I get into something more comfortable.”

His mouth opened, but no noise, no sound, came out.

For that matter, I was speechless too.

She exited I’d guess you’d say stage left, while Glen sat, staring into the
fire, while he absent- mindedly stroked his groin, and then gripped himself
through his chinos. He knew about that way of controlling premature
ejaculations, too.

The few minutes Jean was gone were exquisitely erotic, and I enjoyed every
second, every second of anticipation. I could have moved to the bedroom and
watched her get ready -- what was she going to wear? -- but it was more fun
sharing the waiting with Glen.

A hall light went off, and Jean came back to the den. It wasn’t a robe, not
at all what I expected. She wore a nylon nightgown, very shear: when she
came through the doorway the little night light in the hall that back lit
her just shined right through it.

“Oh my God,” Glen said as this covered but even more sexy than nude woman
came in front of him, “Oh my God you’re beautiful.”

“You knew why you were coming here, Glen,” she said, as she sat next to
him. When she crossed her legs the gown fell away from them, exposing skin
to mid thigh. Why pretend otherwise?”

“It’s been so long,” he started to say, but she didn’t let him finish. “I
know, but now, just relax.”

She leaned toward him, legs uncrossing, put a hand on his groin, and their
lips met in a kiss.

I didn’t remember opening my pants, but somehow my own erection was in my
hand as their kiss continued, as he stoked her leg.

I don’t know how it happened, but somehow he moved so that she was sitting
with her back against the sofa’s back, facing the fire, he was kneeling
beside her while their lips were still engaged.

Somehow he moved again so he was kneeling between her legs on the floor,
still kissing her.

I had thought he’d be passive, that she’d be proactive and lead him, but
that wasn’t happening. He put a hand on her forehead and tilted her head
back, then kissed at her throat.

She held his head to her body, and he abandoned her throat for her
cleavage. I saw that her legs were apart to accommodate his body between
them, and when I looked up he was nursing at her breast through the
nightgown.

He did that for only a minute, then he moved lower, and she slide down on
the sofa too, in a pose that had nothing to do with good posture, and
everything to do with allowing her to tilt her hips and pelvis, because
that’s where his head was now, moving over that material, that membrane
that the nightgown provided.

I could see his head turn as he attacked the inside of her thigh, I knew
that was a favorite erotic place for Jean, and somehow, he knew that too.

He lifted up a bit, and I heard him say “this would be a lot more fun if
you’d pull that nightie up, Jean.’ She put her feet flat on the floor,
lifted her hips, and worked the gown up over her hips to her belly, then
settled her hips back on the sofa.

“Oh, yes, that’s much better,” he said, and started working on the inside
of her thigh again.

Jean, my sexy Jean, was arching in pleasure and anticipation as he played
with her, and then he demonstrated he wasn’t as much a novice at going down
on a woman as I’d have thought. He stopped for a moment, reached under her
legs, and put them on his shoulders, forcing her hips and pelvis into a
greater tilt, providing greater access, giving her no protection, no way
she could impede him by closing her legs.

I saw him reach around her legs from underneath to over the top, his
fingers meeting on her groin.

I couldn’t see, but I could hear: “Now, Jean, I can open you up, open you
wide, like this.” There was a little movement in his shoulders, my mind’s
eye saw his fingers on those folds of skin, spreading them, exposing her
vulva, making that pink and delicious interior, with its little secret
places, its clitoris, available. His head moved down, and Jean lifted up,
and I knew he was expert at what he was doing, because her legs were
shaking as he pushed his head into her, and she began moaning, almost
crying, as he probed and licked and kissed and fingered her, enjoying her
gasping, sighing, as he demonstrated he knew all he had to about going down
on a woman.

When he was done, when it was over, he moved back beside her on the sofa.
“I wanted to make you come the way you did when you touched me last week.
Did I?”

“That was incredible, yes, yes you did,” she told him -- she told us,
sitting there with her gown still bunched above her waist. “But now,” she
sat upright, reached over her head, and pulled her negligee off over her
head, “now it’s your turn again. Or, our turn.”

She pulled at his shirt, he helped, and it was off.

He stood, kicked off his boat shoes, pushed down at pants and shorts, and
kicked them free, too.

“I don’t want to mess up your sofa,” he told her.

“Don’t worry about that. Come here, come on me. Come in me.”

“OK, but. . .”

“What do you want?”

“I loved the way you touched me last week. Could you do that?”

He settled onto the sofa, and Jean moved off it so he could get on his
back, his cock was an erect post coming from the middle of his body.

“Now get on me.”

She started to mount him, facing him, when he said “Would you turn around,
face the other way?”

I understood, and so did she. Can you picture this? Can you picture your
wife kneeling, her legs under a guy’s arms, bending over him, while he
reaches around her legs and spreads her cunt, and lifts up to lick at her,
while she sucks on his cock?

If you can, you’ll understand this. It’s 4:20 AM as I’m writing this, and
my wife is asleep. I have to go wake her up. Like I said, I’m a horny
bastard, and I have to stop now for awhile.

v

v

v

v

There, that’s better. Jean sure knew what was on my mind. What I was just
writing about happened just three days ago, and there’s been lots of sex
going on. Of course she doesn’t know I’m writing about it, I don’t want her
to read that I was less than faithful last week.

Where did I leave off? Oh yeah, woman on top 69. Ever see that, ever see a
woman work on a guy while she was being worked on?

I did.

Ever see a woman sense when her partner was about to explode, and squeeze
him until he was back under control?

I did.

There was the next part, when she took him to the bedroom, where she lay
down on the bed, with her head towards the window, and spread her legs, and
pulled Glen on her. I saw him there, I saw his cock move in her, and saw
her spread herself open for him.


I saw him come.

And not long after that, I saw him go.

Then I got to kiss my wife. It was probably my imagination, but I could
swear I tasted more than just her in her mouth. Jean needed lots of
stoking, she needed to be sure I was OK with what she did, and needed me to
prove it.

You know how I proved it, don’t you? Yeah, that way.

v

v

v

This is a post script, I’m writing it a couple of days after I finished the
story.

My wife likes to write. I suggested she write about the adventure we had,
but she wouldn’t. “That was your idea, you can write about it,” she said.

Little did she know. . .

Anyhow, I reminded her that her instructor suggested each student write a
short adventure, something that pushed their limits. “So, write a sexy
autobiographical adventure.”

“Yeah, that would be fun. A sexy adventure. Too bad the only one I had I
remember with any detail is last week’s, and if I took that story to next
semester’s class everyone whould know it was about me and Glen.”

“Maybe you should have another adventure that you can write about.”

“Mmm, that’s a thought. You sure have proven you’re good at setting up
adventures, do you have any ideas?”

It didn’t take me long to think of something. “Sure, how about this? Why
don’t you come with me when I go to back to Chicago, you know I have to
spend most of next week there. You can go as a writer, and maybe you’ll
meet someone who’s traveling on business, and you can, you know, have a bit
of a fling. I’d like that, and you’d be far from home, and it would be a
great story.”

“You’re a bad man, Ed, for thinking things like that. But you know, it
sounds sexy, I’d like to know what it’s like to be away like that, and
tempted to do things like that. Maybe I will go. I couldn’t use my real
name, though.”

“Of course you couldn’t. Why not call yourself, oh, say, Marsha?” Pretend
to be away from home on a story assignment, or something.”

I didn't tell her if she did that it would complete the circle.

Wouldn't it be neat if it happened, that that guy would write about it and
posted it here?