Two-way wife

The seething passions that lurk within many individuals are often hidden beneath a veneer of normalcy, exposed only under extremely tempting conditions.

The woman who, after a few drinks at a party, takes on all corners, male and female alike. The man who, during a strip show at a stag party, climbs up on the stage with the girl and performs with her in front of his friends. The couple who, while appearing to be staid members of the establishment, are secret members of the neighborhood mate-swapping group.

Lori Adams is one of these outwardly proper and quite normal people. But within her lies a perversity that even she at first refuses to recognize, a perversity that haunts her dreams and eventually forces her to act.

TWO-WAY WIFE -- the story of one woman haunted by the perversity of the passion seething within her. Hers is a serious tale, and a reflection on the many problems facing our society.


A dream that I was to have again and again started the series of events that eventually led Mike and me to Susan. In the dream, another woman succeeded in seducing me. I had never been a girl who worries a lot, especially about dreams, but this dream did upset me. Before the dream, lesbianism had never held any attraction at all for me. I had felt as if my husband and other men were completely satisfying my sexual needs. Yet the dream changed all that.

At first, the dream was always the same. As it began, I stood naked at the door of a large, bright, airy room. A gentle breeze carried the scent of perfume to me. There was soft carpet beneath my bare feet.

A huge canopied four-poster bed stood at the far side of the room. A beautiful woman, wearing only the flimsiest of nightgowns, slept on the satin sheets that covered the bed.

For the first few moments of the dream, I stared at her. Her high cheekbones, slightly slanted eyes, and long, lustrous black hair gave her a Eurasian appearance. Her full lips added to her sensual appeal.

Her body fascinated me. Dark nipples at the center of her huge tits provided a sharp contrast to her light skin. Her tiny waist curved out into large, inviting hips that, in turn, gave way to firm, well-shaped thighs. Her cunt interested me most, of course. The dark, hairy beaver riveted my gaze. I couldn't take my eyes off the black curls that covered her slit. I leaned forward, as if to see more clearly, but it wasn't necessary. Her transparent nightgown hid nothing from my view.

I felt my cunt throb and my nipples harden. Small goosebumps of excitement rose on my shoulders and neck. My legs felt weak. All the signs of my own arousal were there for me to see and feel. I had never been stimulated by the sight of another woman, but the erotic allure of this woman got to me!

I wanted to look at her, to stare at her, but I also wanted to run away. I had seen naked women before, had even seen two women locked in a sixty-nine, eagerly lapping each other's cunts, but I had always turned away. Some of that distaste stayed with me in the dream, but not much of it.

Although I kept telling myself to leave, I didn't. Instead, I felt increasingly as if the woman's beauty were drawing me to her.

I felt afraid, uncomfortable, ambivalent, but I moved forward tentatively, a few steps closer. I could feel my heart beating wildly in my chest from the excitement. My pussy throbbed with desire. As I moved closer, the woman seemed to sense my presence. She began to sleep more restlessly. Her arms stretched out as if she were reaching for something, but nothing was there.

Her legs moved slightly. They, too, seemed to be looking for something as she moved them apart and then together. She kept rolling about on the bed, legs apart, head thrown back, tossing and turning in her sleep. Then, her legs spread apart, she lay still.

Her restlessness had lifted her nightgown up high, way above her cunt. My searching eyes focused on the beauties of her exposed snatch. I could see large outer labes, well-defined under her black beaver. I could even see the pink edges of the small inner pussy-lips poking up at the center of her twat.

The woman continued to sleep, but she was far from inactive. Her hand wandered down to her cunt and she slowly probed into it with one finger. As her finger went into her hole, moisture dripped out of her cunt down the length of the finger.

She moaned slightly and I realized that she would awaken soon. Every time I had the dream, this was a moment of panic for me. For an instant, my fears nearly overcame my unfamiliar desires. I almost bolted and ran, but held my ground.

As I had feared, the woman awakened, roused from sleep by her busy finger. She blinked her eyes sleepily while her finger stayed inside her dripping cunt. Then she noticed me.

"Lori, I am glad you are here," she said.

Her way of speaking increased both her eroticism and her mysteriousness. She had a slight accent, but I couldn't place it. She was not an American, at least by birth, but where was she from? That mystery attracted me, but another mystery upset me.

How did she know my name? I had never seen her before. It was frightening. I stood there speechless, as powerless to speak as I was powerless to run. I wanted to talk, to ask how she knew my name, but no words came out.

Finally, I regained home control over myself. Old inhibitions came back, but they weren't strong enough to overcome my interest in the woman. I tried to cover my nakedness, but I didn't try to run. One hand moved up and, with little success, tried to cover my big tits. With the other hand, I covered my pussy.

It had been a long time since I had been modest about my body. In fact, I usually enjoyed showing it off, but to men, not to other women. At parties, there had been women around when I had stripped off my clothes, but I had ignored them. Men's appreciation of my body had more than made up for my uneasiness at having other women see me naked. But I was alone with this woman and something about the way she stared at me made me want to hide my nakedness.

"What are you ashamed of?" she asked. "Here, I'll make myself naked, just like you," she told me.

She stretched seductively, her arms going up high behind her head, her nipples pushing out hard against the sheer fabric of her negligee. Then, in one motion, she pulled the nightgown over her head and was naked.

There were more surprises to come. Without another word, she stuck her finger back into her cunt-hole and resumed finger-fucking herself even more vigorously than before.

I felt uneasy. There was a strange knot of anxiety in my stomach. Nevertheless, I gave up the hopeless task of trying to cover my nakedness. I dropped my hands and stood there while the woman fingered her cunt.

I wasn't sure if I enjoyed the sight. I had diddled my own twat, of course, and I had seen other women diddle theirs. Most women have fingerfucked themselves at one time or another in their lives. The problem was that I had never been alone with another woman while she or I diddled ourselves. There was something threatening to me about this woman fingering her snatch when she and I were so intimately alone in her bedroom.

"I do this all the time," she panted. "I like it," she added, as if that were explanation enough.

Her finger moved faster in her rosy gash. Her efforts sent juice dripping out of her cunt and down her thighs. As she approached orgasm, she lay back on the bed, her eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to everything but her determined fingering of her own cunt. Her breathing grew more labored and a slight flush spread over her body. Her hand moved more quickly. I felt the urge to flee, but paradoxically, moved closer.

Suddenly, she sat up. Her hand was still. For some reason, she had stopped herself just short of climax.

"I want to save my orgasm for you, my dear," she told me, breathing hard as she spoke.

I stood there speechless, frightened and attracted by her words.

"All right. Don't speak. But you are pretty enough so that you don't have to talk," she said.

She stared at me for a moment that seemed to last forever. "Such nice blonde hair -- on your head and on your pussy, too. I like that. And I love your blue eyes. You are an attractive woman, Lori. You have large round tits and a pretty ass. And a good cunt, too."

The first few times I had the dream, I awakened at this point. Because no woman had ever talked to me like that, the shock was enough to awaken me.

Later, the dream went beyond that point. The woman called to me. "Come here," she said, beckoning in invitation. "Don't be afraid."

I was afraid. I stood still, unable, or unwilling, to move. It took a few moments for my desire to reassert its dominance over my inhibitions.

The woman kept talking to me, coaxing me. "You won't be sorry, I'll kiss those tender lips of yours, touch your tits, kiss them, and kiss your sweet pussy, too."

I stood still, frozen in my tracks. With men -- whether with my husband or with other men -- I had always been uninhibited, unrestrained. I had done many things and never been sorry. But I had never touched another woman or been touched by one. And now this woman had promised to lick out my cunt!

Given my past feelings, I should have felt revulsion. Her suggestions should have repelled me.

But they didn't. I felt fear, anxiety, but I felt a strong lust, too. I walked towards her bed, my lust moving my feet for me, almost against my will.

The woman continued to tell me what would happen. "I will make you feel better than you have ever felt before," she purred. "But you will repay me," she added. "I'll teach you how to lap my pussy."

I stopped at the side of the bed. Again, my past had reasserted itself I couldn't take that final step. I couldn't take the initiative and embrace the woman.

She stood up from the bed. She was a tall woman, even taller than my five feet, eight inches. She grabbed me firmly by each arm and pressed me down on the bed.

I lay back on the sheets. They felt cool against my naked flesh. I lay there rigidly at first, my body reflecting the ambivalence in my mind, the struggle between inhibitions and desire.

"Relax, my dear," she said softly. Then she began to massage my flesh, not my cunt and tits, but the rest of me -- my arms, neck, and stomach. Her touch was gentle and I relaxed.

She concentrated on my belly for a while. Gradually, she moved lower and lower, inch by inch. When she was about to reach my blonde muff, she dropped her hand all the way down and tried to part my thighs. I resisted briefly, then gave in.

As my legs spread, she gently rubbed my thighs, then moved up towards my gash. Her hand caressed the hair on my cunt, then parted it. One of her fingers darted into my hole. I moved inside an inch or two, then, as I spread my legs wider, slid easily inside.

The woman withdrew her finger and transferred the cunt-juice on it to my clit. I felt a surge of warmth spread from my clit as her finger touched it.

"There. Now you are properly relaxed," the woman told me. As she spoke, she continued to rub my clit; the surge of warmth spreading from the tiny shaft turned into a wave of hot pleasure that began to engulf me.

While she fingered my clit, the woman leaned forward and kissed my belly. Then, her tongue moved down to the top of my beaver, playing in the curly blonde hair.

I made the first sounds I had made since the dream had begun, but they weren't sounds of protest. I began to moan and whine with pleasure and need.

"Ohhh, God. It feels so good. Soooooo good," I moaned. "Faster, faster," I urged, my inhibitions forgotten.

Finally, her finger increased its speed. Then, just as I felt close to orgasm, her tongue parted the wet hair above my hole and moved to my cunt. She ran her tongue along the moist outer pussy-lips. Then she tongued my clit. The first gentle probing of her tongue against the sensitive little clit gave me one of the most exquisite sensations I have ever felt or, in that case, imagined. My husband, Mike always ate my pussy well. Other men often used their tongues expertly cm my snatch. But nothing had ever felt like that woman's tongue on my clit.

The dream never went beyond that point. I awakened, my cunt soaked, my muscles contracting, but my hole empty. Usually, I woke my husband up and asked him to fuck me or to lick my pussy. The dream worried me and I wanted to have him to help me banish the memory.

"What is it, Lori?" Mike would always ask when I awakened him.

"Just a nightmare," I would answer.

"About what?" he would ask.

"Someone trying to kill me," I would answer. Or I would make up something else that had nothing to do with the subject of my dream. I didn't think he would appreciate the truth very much. He had never encouraged me to join the lesbian scene at the parties we attended.

Mike always told me that I needed exercise, that if I were more tired when I went to sleep, I wouldn't have bad dreams. I always laughed and said something flippant like, "Give me some exercise." Then we would fuck and, eventually, I would be able to forget about the dream for a few minutes.

No man had ever fucked me the way Mike fucked me. He was a big, handsome, muscular, self-assured man. His tanned, rugged face, jet-black hair, and powerful body made him attractive to me, but, on balance, what turned me on most was his big cock. His cock had to be at least ten inches long. I had never measured it with a ruler, but my mouth and cunt had compared it to many other cocks and all had been found lacking.

Even Mike's big cock, however, was hard-pushed to banish that dream from my mind. At first, as his big prick rocketed in and out of my cunt, part of my mind was elsewhere, on the dream, at least until I had begun to come.

Only as I climaxed did I forget the dream. "Oh, Mike, fuck me!" I would shriek, not only because he was making me feel good, but because he had made me forget that disturbing dream.

After my orgasm had subsided, however, I couldn't relax because the dream came back to bother me. It felt good when Mike fucked me, as it always did, but once I began to have the dream, I didn't feel as totally satisfied as usual. There was still some ill-defined, left-over craving in my cunt.

What did I want? Did I need another woman? Did I have lesbian tendencies that had never before emerged? Why had they taken so long to show themselves? Was something wrong with my marriage? I had thought it a good marriage. Mike and I both enjoyed fucking and sucking with others, but only at parties, never behind the other's back. We each enjoyed these additions to our basic sex routine, but our primary satisfaction had been with each other.

For weeks, I fooled myself. I told myself that the dream was just a harmless fantasy. Deep down, however, I felt a gnawing anxiety. I pretended it wasn't there, but the dream always came back to remind me.

I increasingly became aware of changes in my sexual feelings. I felt more and more dissatisfied each time Mike fucked me. It felt good when his cock was slamming in and out of my cunt, but after, when my orgasm had subsided, I felt as if I hadn't climaxed at all. At the one party we went to during the first weeks I was having the dream, I fucked three men. Their pricks, too, felt good pistoning in and out of my cunt, but, after I came, I felt the same vague dissatisfaction I had felt after Mike had fucked me.

At first, this dissatisfaction was the only sign of change in me. I tried to hide it and to make sure there were no other signs of change. Nevertheless, within a few weeks, I began to notice more extreme changes in my behavior.

The first sign that I was losing control over myself came when I met other women on the street or in stores. I looked them over much more carefully than I had ever done in the past. Often, I mentally undressed them. Somehow, I convinced myself that no one had noticed my strange behavior.

I even developed an elaborate rationale for my actions. I told myself that my behavior was natural, that the dream had only awakened my curiosity. Nevertheless, I couldn't really convince myself. I knew that if it was only curiosity that motivated me, I wouldn't have been so unsatisfied after men had fucked me.

As self-deception failed, I still told myself that no one else realized I had changed. After all, no one had said anything to me about my behavior, so I took this to mean that no one had caught on. Perhaps they hadn't, but soon I lost control of myself so completely that no one could have missed the signs.


The first indication that I would not be able to hide my secret desires for long came one night when Mike and I went to a party that promised to be one of the wildest orgies of the year.

We arrived at the party a few minutes late. I had taken a long time getting dressed, knowing that if I looked good when I arrived fully clothed, it would increase the men's excitement when I undressed in front of them.

That I still tried to think this way shows the magnitude of my self-deception. I tried to convince myself that all I cared about was how the men felt about me, but that wasn't true. I wanted the women to notice me, too.

The party hadn't started yet. Everyone else was there, but the action had not yet begun. They had waited for us. No one had even taken their clothes off yet. With everyone sitting around fully clothed, it looked like a typical suburban party. Ten couples sat around, drinks in hand, music playing softly in a very well-furnished suburban living room. It looked very conventional.

"Last to arrive, first to undress," Barry, our host, told me.

It was time to begin. I slowly unbuttoned my dress, teasing the crowd, making them all wait for what they wanted to see. When I had finished with the buttons, I opened my dress, showing them I wore no bra to hold up my big tits. Then I let my dress drop to my waist.

Barry moved close to me. "That's the way to do it, Lori," he said. Then he began to roughly fondle my tits. He rubbed them hard for a few seconds. Then he reached down into my dress and pushed his hand under my panties to caress my cunt.

Barry's actions excited me. Despite the dream, I still enjoyed cock, although not as much as before. I knew Barry had a big cock and I wanted it. Nevertheless, even as he touched my cunt, my eyes wandered around the room, looking at all the women there. I tried to stop myself, to tell myself someone would notice, but I was helpless. I couldn't tear my eyes away.

I didn't look around for long. Barry pulled my dress off. Then he removed my panties. When I was naked, he stuck his hand deep into my pussy and fingered the wet gash.

Barry's wife, Karen, walked up to us. For a moment, I thought she was jealous, an almost unheard-of emotion at our parties. "Hey, you two, don't get carried away. Lori is undressed but Mike isn't."

Karen walked up to Mike and kissed him. As they embraced, she reached down and unzipped his fly. She reached in and pulled out his cock and there was an audible gasp from the crowd. It was indeed an incredible hunk of meat.

Karen caressed his prick, for a moment. She was a small girl, with small, firm tits and a pert little ass. Her tiny fingers barely reached around Mike's big cock. She stroked his rod slowly, as if savoring its length and girth.

It was an exciting sight, big Mike locked in an embrace with little Karen. The crowd moved closer as Karen and Mike began to undress each other. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off him. Then she started to remove his pants. Meanwhile, Mike almost tore her blouse off and impatiently tugged at her skirt, trying to pull it down.

Mike and Karen didn't daily any longer. Mike stepped back away from her and took off his pants. Karen stepped out of her skirt. They were both naked now.

I found myself staring at Karen. She wasn't voluptuous, but she did have an attractive, nicely shaped little body. A light fringe of brown hair barely covered her cunt. I stared at her twat as if, by some triumph of mind over matter, I could lift it up to my mouth.

My reverie didn't continue for long. While Mike and Karen re-embraced, Barry walked up to me.

"Hey, Lori. Don't forget about me," he said.

I realized I had made my first mistake. Everyone must have noticed me staring at Karen's cunt. Before, I would have been eager for Barry to fuck me. As soon as I had undressed, I would have undressed him and then pulled him down on top of me, but tonight I had ignored him.

Barry didn't say anything specific to me, but I knew that he had noticed some change in my behavior. "What's wrong, Lori?" he asked. "Don't you feel well?"

I decided to feign more excitement than I felt. It wasn't completely an act, of course. I still wanted to get laid. Cocks felt good inside my cunt. It was only after I had been fucked that I felt slightly unfulfilled at this stage in my progression to lesbianism.

I swayed against Barry and moaned, "Oh, Barry, fuck me. Please fuck me." I hoped that my apparent lust would fool the crowd, would convince any who had noticed my wandering eyes that it was only a momentary aberration.

Barry was more than glad to oblige. He undressed without any hesitation. I felt a surge of my old lust when his big cock bounced free, unencumbered by his clothes. It wasn't as big as Mike's prick, of course, but it was big enough nonetheless.

Barry pushed me down to the floor. Then he pulled my legs apart and dove down to my cunt. He began to lap at my gash frantically, his tongue going inside my hole, then outside to my clit, then back inside again.

It felt good, very good, but the sensation was nothing like the sensation I had felt in my dream when the woman had licked at my clit. Why had it felt so much better in the dream? A tongue was a tongue. Perhaps there was something about the way a woman used her tongue, some feminine intuition guiding it to the most sensitive spot on the clit. The woman in the dream had done it; would other women be able to do it, too?

I tried to keep my eyes closed, to avoid as best I could my error of a few moments earlier. Barry's tongue darted in and out of my rosy gash, giving me pleasure, starting a flow of juice from my cunt. I was enjoying it, but not enough to keep my mind off Karen.

I opened my eyes for a second or two and glanced over at Karen and Mike. She had her legs wrapped around him and he was fucking her powerfully, his big prick nearly splitting her dainty cunt. He rammed into her hole, letting her have every inch of his huge cock. It looked too big for Karen, but somehow she managed to take it all.

I closed my eyes again, waited about twenty seconds, and reopened them. I stared at Karen's cunt. Mike's prick had spread the outer labes wide. I could see beads of moisture on the fuzzy twat-flaps. What would it be like to run my tongue over those cunt-lips? I wondered.

Then I caught myself. If I kept looking, someone would surely notice. Here I was, getting my cunt eaten, and I was staring at another woman's twat. What had happened to me? Had. I lost all control over myself? If I had, what was I capable of doing?

I closed my eyes, then opened them again, this time looking not at Karen, but at the crowd. I was anxious to see if anyone had noticed my strange behavior. Unfortunately, it was impossible to tell. The sight of Mike fucking Karen and Barry eating my cunt had been too much for the others. They had ripped off their clothes and were fucking each other in every corner of the room.

Now I wasn't worried any longer about anyone seeing me look around, so I kept my eyes open, staring at Karen's cunt as Mike's cock fucked in and out, sending juice spurting up on each stroke.

Each time he pulled his cock out of her hole, the small inner lips of her pussy stuck to his cock and emerged partway from her cunt. They were pink and smooth, very different from the larger, fuzzier outer lips of her cunt.

I was conscious of two simultaneous pleasures the direct physical pleasure of Barry's tongue on my clit and the visual pleasure of staring at Karen's alluring cunt. For a while, I separated the two, enjoying the view of Karen, while still savoring the feel of Barry's tongue on my snatch.

After a few minutes, Barry's mouth triumphed as the dominant source of my pleasure. Nevertheless, it didn't feel nearly as good as the tongue of the woman in the dream. I enjoyed his cunt-lapping but I didn't feel as if I were ever going to approach orgasm as the result of Barry's efforts.

Barry knew something was wrong. He decided to try his cock, to see if it could drive me to orgasm. He stopped licking my cunt, rose up away from pussy, then lay down on top of me and slammed his cock into my cunt-hole.

Now Barry's face was right above mine. I could feel his hot breath on my cheeks. His face blotted out my view of Karen. I couldn't have looked at her no matter how badly I wanted to see her.

Barry fucked me hard, but I still couldn't come. It was the first time in years that I had been fucked by a man, any man, and had been unable to climax. I began to worry, not only that everyone at the party might notice that I hadn't come, but that I might not be able to come when Mike screwed me.

There was only one thing I could do. I decided to fake it. I arched up off the floor, my body moving up as if looking for more and more cock. "Ohhh, God, I'm there, I'm there," I moaned.

Barry kept fucking me, moving in and out of my hole until the instant of his orgasm. Then he plunged way inside and stayed there, letting me squeeze his prick with my well-coordinated cunt muscles.

When Barry finished shooting his jizz into me, I felt strange. I wasn't used to fucking without coming. I felt totally unsatisfied. His sticky spunk had filled my cunt, but it still felt as if it hadn't been fucked.

I opened my eyes and glanced around the room. Couples were still madly fucking all over. Probably my act hadn't been necessary, except to fool Barry.

I was surrounded by a sea of naked bodies. Cocks descended into cunts or cunts bounced up and down on top of cocks. A few mouths sucked hard on big cocks and a few tongues toyed with dripping cunts. It was an incredible sight!

I found myself paying a lot more attention to the cunts than to the cocks. My eyes lingered much longer on the wet snatches around the room than on anything else. Then my eyes moved to Karen and Mike. Her cunt attracted me even more than my husband's own fantastic prick.

Mike was giving her little twat a real workout. It surprised me that she could take it, but somehow, she did. She even seemed to be enjoying it.

Karen had begun to come. Her spasming muscles contracted, relaxed, then contracted again. She involved every muscle in her lower body in her orgiastic dance of pleasure.

Meanwhile, Mike kept rocketing in and out of her spasming snatch, letting her feel the power and strength of his thick prick. It was a fearsome weapon, but I hardly noticed it as I stared at Karen's enticing hole.

"Ohhhh! Eahhhhh! Please shoot into me, Mike!" she begged.

Her moans got louder and louder. Then, as she felt Mike's cum shoot into her curd, she started moving up and down with fury, as if she wanted Mike to shoot right through her. "Yes, yes, YES!" she cried, as if Mike needed verbal affirmation of his jizz shooting into her heated hole.

Barry had been fooled, thank God. He rolled off and patted me affectionately on the thigh. "That was good, Lori. Real good," he told me. I hardly felt his touch and I barely heard his words. By now, all I cared about was watching Karen come and I didn't care who knew it.

Karen's climax seemed to go on forever. I had never realized that a woman could stay at the peak for so long, even with a cock like Mike's inside her cunt. She soon lost her voice, stopped moaning and groaning, but she kept fucking, kept grinding her body against Mike's prick while he drove in and out of her hole. Only her frantic body movements and her clenched teeth showed that she was coming. Her pleasure had been so intense that she had temporarily lost her voice.

Finally, she finished. Her muscles relaxed and she lay back on the floor, exhausted. She gave a long sigh of satisfaction and then lay back, as if asleep. I felt an urge to run to her and embrace her, to let her regain her energy in my arms, but I held back. I had lost some control over myself, but I hadn't decided yet that I was ready to cross the line, ready to commit myself to having a lesbian experience. I wasn't sure I had lost my own inhibitions, although I was beginning to feel that I had. More important, I wasn't sure if my husband would be able to accept my interest in other women. Moreover, I didn't want to have my first lesbian experience at a party, in front of everyone else. So I held myself back.

I felt proud of myself for my self-restraint. Then, I lost most of it. Suddenly, I noticed what was going on in the far corner of the room and my self-control almost vanished. Two women, Ann, a small, dark-haired girl, and Vicky, a tall blonde, were in the classic cunt-eating position. They lay facing each other, each with her head buried in the other's snatch.

It was an incredibly erotic sight, one that excited my newly developed sensibility to the eroticism of lesbian sex. I could see Vicky's back and ass, as well as the top of Ann's head emerging from between Vicky's legs. Ann's jet-black hair made a pleasant contrast to Vicky's pink flesh. At the other end, I could see the back of Vicky's head as she burrowed into Ann's cunt. Her head obscured Ann's cunt from my view.

As I watched, I felt a sharp stab of pleasure in my cunt. The sight was almost too much for me. I positioned myself close to them on the floor so that I could look down the lengths of their two intertwined bodies. Now I could see Vicky's tongue snaking into Ann's small hole and, as I looked beyond, I could see Ann's little red tongue moving in and out of Vicky's wide twat.

The sound of their pussy-eating activities was enough to drive me out of my mind. Each girl made slurping, drinking sounds as she lapped up the fluids of the other girl's cunt. Their tongues smacked against the wet flesh, while each gave out smothered exclamations of pleasure, lost partially, but not completely, in the wet flesh.

I felt a strong impulse to join them, to shove my head between them, to pick one cunt or the other and run my tongue in and out of the wet hole, to force one of their heads between my legs to eat out my cunt. Fortunately, I wasn't carried away enough by my own desire to do something like that. I had already been indiscreet enough when I sat so close to them, watching them so intently. Surely someone had noticed, but I didn't care.

I was right not to care. As I found out later, Mike and many of the other people had already noticed changes in my behavior. They weren't blind and they would have had to be blind to miss the way that I had been looking at other women. And my activities earlier that evening had of course not gone unnoticed. I had not hidden my feelings as well as I had hoped. Perhaps, unconsciously, I realized that and my sudden inability to hide my new interest reflected that realization.

I tried to tell myself that I had acted with enough discretion to prevent anyone from realizing the depths of my craving. I didn't realize that everyone at the party, including my husband, had seen the way I was acting and had drawn accurate conclusions.

I felt a hand on my arm and turned around to see who it was. It was Karen. She held my arm tightly and looked into my eyes.

"Lori, I didn't know you liked girls," she said.

"I'm just curious, that's all," I told her.

"Oh, I'm sure that's all it is," Karen said. Then she laughed and squeezed my arm more tightly.

I realized that I hadn't hidden my feelings very well. Karen knew enough about lesbianism to recognize it when she saw it. She wasn't one of the more actively bisexual women in our party-going groups, but she went through occasional periods of high interest in lesbianism. It seemed that I had reawakened her interest! She had been fucking my husband shortly before, but, now, she seemed to have eyes only for me.

I had mixed emotions about her attentions. I hoped she was interested in me, but, at the same time, more rationally, I hoped she was not. I wasn't really ready to have my first lesbian experience that night, at that party.

It wasn't doubts about my own feelings and what they meant that stopped me. I think by that point I had ceased my attempts to fool myself. I definitely needed another woman. The dream and my hard-to-conceal lusts told me that.

If I had let my new lusts dominate, I would have embraced Karen, pressed her body against mine, shoved her head between my legs, then felt her tongue on my cunt and my tongue on her little twat. But I wasn't ready to take that final step.

I worried about how Mike would feel. I didn't know if he could accept my lesbianism, especially if I began to have the same trouble reaching orgasm with him as I had that night with Barry. Mike had never suggested that I take part in the lesbian activities at the parties. I had seen him watch the other women go down on each other, and he had seemed to get aroused by the sight, but would he feel the same if I were involved in one of those lesbian couplings?

There was another problem. Provided I did go ahead and have sex with another woman, I didn't want to do it for the first time at a party, in front of the whole crowd. I've never been shy about sex, but I've always liked to try something for the first time in relative privacy.

Hence, when Karen confronted me, my conflicting feelings left me paralyzed. I did nothing except stare at her. Unfortunately, she took my silence as encouragement. Her hand moved up my arm, slowly, caressingly.

"What a surprise, Lori," she said softly. "I never would have expected it of you." Her hand moved to my shoulder as she spoke.

I shrugged my shoulders, trying to get Karen to remove her hand. Again, she misinterpreted my actions, not illogically, given the eagerness with which I had been watching Ann and Vicky muff-diving a few moments before. Instead of removing her hand, Karen moved it to my left tit.

The touch of her hand on my tit galvanized me to action. I grabbed her hand and pulled it off my boob. "Okay, Karen. That's enough," I told her.

"What's the problem, Lori?" she asked, bewildered.

"I'm not ready, that's all," I answered.

Karen wasn't really discouraged. She tried to touch me again, to soothe me, relax me, but I would have none of it. I stood up and walked away, leaving her sitting on the floor, her hand reaching for empty air.

Mike walked over to me. He looked angry. "I'm tired, Lori," he said. "Let's get the hell out of here."

I knew something was really wrong. Mike tired! That had never happened before at any of the parties. Had he seen the change in me? Or was he mad at someone else?

We made our excuses and went out to the car. I waited for the explosion. I expected Mike to start yelling at me, but he didn't. He calmly got in the car and drove away without a word.

"Why did you want to leave so early?" I asked. "That's not like you."

"I said I was tired," he told me.

"Oh, bullshit," I answered. "You've never gotten tired at a party before."

"Okay. I wasn't tired. I saw Karen bothering you and I wanted to give you an excuse to get away. I know you aren't interested."

I could tell that Mike was testing me, waiting to see how I reacted. I decided to continue my ruse, to act as if I had not been interested.

"I can take care of myself," I told him. "I had just gotten up to leave her when you arrived."

"Okay, if you say so," Mike said.

He wasn't through testing me. "What were you doing watching Ann and Vicky so closely? You looked like you were ready to jump right in with them. What's come over you lately?"

"Lately? What do you mean?" I asked innocently. I still thought I could carry off my transparent masquerade.

"You know damn well what I mean," Mike said harshly. "Everyone else has noticed, too. You have a way of staring at other women -- as if you want to tear their clothes off. Don't try to avoid the other question either. Why were you staring at those two dykes so hard?"

"They aren't dykes. They like men, too," I answered.

"That's beside the point," Mike yelled. "Why were you staring at them?"

"Curiosity," I answered.

"Curiosity!" Mike shouted. "Do you expect me to believe that?"

I decided to stop pretending. I hadn't fooled anyone. "All right, Mike. It was more than curiosity. Lately, I have been interested in other women. You've noticed it. Others have noticed it, tonight, if not before. Do you mind?"

Mike looked thoughtful. He was quiet at first. He seemed to be mulling it over. "Well, if you really want to try it, I don't think anything's wrong with it. The only thing is that you'd better not decide that you like it better than cock. If you do, you're really fucked up. I'd throw you out of the house and kick your ass, too."

His approval surprised me and so did his outburst. Mike didn't often lose his temper. There was something irrational about the way he reacted. Obviously, he wanted me to do what I wanted. I hadn't expected him to be so tolerant. Yet he could not accept other women as a legitimate threat to men as the prime provider of my sexual satisfaction. If I decided I liked women better than men, I was "fucked up". Mike was a self-confident man, but my interest in lesbianism had threatened him. He would let me try it, but I couldn't enjoy it too much.

I decided to reassure him and, from then on, to deceive him if I could. If I started to enjoy cunt more than cock, I wouldn't let him find out. Hopefully, I would do better than I had in my last effort at deception.

"Mike, I could never enjoy anything as much as I enjoy that big cock of yours. I like cock so much that nothing could ever replace it. I don't want to replace it. I just want to try something different. I want to expand my horizons."

Mike looked skeptical. "If you say so, Lori. But remember what I said. If you start to prefer women to men, especially to this man, you're in trouble."

I realized it would be more difficult than I thought. Christ! If Mike was so damn up-tight over it, he would be watching me carefully to see how I reacted to other women. I would have to keep myself under control.

I was concerned, but I was exultant, too. Mike had cautioned me, but he had also given in. It was a strange situation. I could go ahead, but only so far.

Mike asserted himself immediately. "If you like cock, prove it," he told me.

"Didn't I prove it at the party?" I asked.

"Yes, sort of. But not with me. And not after you almost jumped in between Ann and Vicky after Barry laid you."

I did the only thing I could have done. I pulled out Mike's cock and slowly blew him. His slippery wet cock still reeked of the cunt-juice in which it had recently bathed. I had never minded the taste and smell of other women's pussies on Mike's prick, but I had never really enjoyed that taste and smell either. This time, however, I loved it. Except in my dreams, second-hand contact was the closest contact I had ever had with another woman.

As I sucked Mike's enormous tool, I closed my eyes. I saw alternating mental images: first the overflowing pussies I had seen that night, then Mike's big prick. Only gradually, as Mike's cock swelled larger and larger in my mouth, did the mental picture of his cock begin to dominate and the image of pussy fade from view. His cock still had a lot of power over me.

When Mike came, image merged completely with reality. A few drops of molten jizz shot into my throat. Then the familiar hard stream of cum followed. At that moment, Mike's prick dominated my consciousness.

I swallowed Mike's load and lifted my head to watch the sperm dribble off the end of his cock. He had shot even more than usual. Perhaps the sight of me in close proximity to other women and then our conversation about it had turned him on! Maybe he was more ambivalent about it than I thought.

Mike drove on without speaking while I shoved his cock back in his pants and zipped his fly. His hands gripped the steering wheel more tightly than usual.

"Mike, what's wrong?" I asked.

"Lori, did you get so excited just now from thinking about other women or from sucking my cock? You've never sucked me that hard before. You felt like a vacuum cleaner!"

"Oh, Mike, it was your cock. Jesus! You know I love to suck your cock," I assured him. I wasn't being completely honest, of course, and I watched carefully to see how he reacted.

"If you say so," he said hesitantly, as if he wanted to believe me, but wasn't quite sure if I told the truth.

This might be bad news, I decided. If he was so damn insecure, our whole marriage could crumble, even if he let me go ahead. I decided to question him further.

"Mike, doesn't it arouse you at all to think of me with another woman?"

He smiled. Now he looked like the old Mike again! "Yes, it does, Lori. It really does. But I still wouldn't want you to like it too much. What's so hard to understand about that?"

Now I felt better. If Mike was aroused, he would have a difficult time precisely judging the extent of my passion. I felt relieved that the situation excited him.

"Why didn't you ever suggest that I try it?" I asked. "Were you afraid?"

He avoided the issue. "I didn't want to push you. You never gave any indications that you were interested, at least until the last few weeks. And I wasn't sure until tonight that you were interested. Try it at the next party if you want."

"Not in front of all those people. Not the first time," I said.

"You didn't seem very shy tonight," he said, laughing as he spoke.

"That was different," I answered. "Before we went to our first orgy, we'd fucked each other hundreds of times. I've never touched another woman before. I don't want to do something for the first time in front of other people. That's all there is to it. I'm sure I won't mind after I've tried it a few times."

"That sounds reasonable," Mike said. "I'm going on a business trip next week. Invite one of the girls over. Maybe after you get used to being with another girl, we'll all get together -- the other girl, you, and me. Then, after that, you'll be ready for the parties and the girls there."

That husband of mine had surprised me, but I wasn't sure of his motives for suggesting three-way sex. Mike, myself, and another girl! I found it an exciting thought. Women obsessed me now, but Mike did have a great cock. It would be perfect if I could combine the two. I hadn't had the imagination to think of it! But had he suggested it because the thought excited him or because he wanted to observe first-hand how I reacted to another woman, especially in direct comparison to how I reacted to him? Or was it a little of both? I would have to be cautious until I found out.

Again, my worry didn't dampen my enthusiasm. Mike had suggested that I give lesbianism a try. I had felt my cunt flooding when Mike assented to me indulging my needs. His suggestion about three-way sex didn't stanch the flow.

I had confessed to Mike, but not completely. One secret remained -- the dream. That night, I had the dream again. The dream was almost the same as before. My ambivalence, my fears, were still there. I guess even my firm resolve to try lesbianism had not erased a lifetime's taboos.

Nevertheless, my fear seemed weaker in the dream. I awakened sure that I had moved forward to the bed faster than I had done in previous dreams.

This time, when I awakened at the same point in the dream at which I always awakened, I didn't rouse Mike from sleep. My cunt felt empty. My loins ached with desire. But I would wait. In a few days, the dream would become reality.


Now I was finally on the course that would lead to Susan. Events moved with an inexorable force, pushing us together. I had made the decision to try lesbianism and that decision, as well as Mike's response to it, would send us on the search that would eventually culminate in our discovery of Susan. First, however, there was Martha and my true initiation into the sorority of lesbos.

It took me a few hours to decide whom to choose as my first lesbian partner. I had seen many beautiful women at the parties making love to other women. But I decided that I should pick someone who hadn't been at the last party, someone who would be more surprised at my conversion.

Martha was the obvious choice. She had missed the last party. Moreover, she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. Before her marriage, she had been one of the highest paid fashion models in New York. Also, she was definitely bisexual. I had seen her getting it on with both men and women.

Martha's personality made her attractive to me, too. She was stand-offish, aloof, haughty, at least on the surface, but, from what I had seen at parties, I knew that underneath the cool exterior, Martha was a wild she-cat, a tigress who used her mouth, cunt, and asshole with wild abandon.

I called Martha and invited her over for dinner. Mike had just left on his business trip that morning and I didn't want to waste any time.

At first, Martha didn't catch on to the purpose of my call.

"Shall I bring Bill?" she asked. She thought I wanted her and her husband to come over for an evening of mate-swapping.

My next request surprised Martha. "Why don't you leave Bill home and it'll be the two of us, just you and me. Mike's out of town," I said, my voice low and husky as I spoke.

She hesitated for a moment while the implications of my words sank in. "Of course, if that's what you want," she finally answered. Her voice still sounded cold and distant, but I thought I detected some excitement there, too.

I hung up the phone after we had finished talking, my heart pounding with excitement. What would it feel like to have another woman's tongue probing into my hole? What would a wet slippery cunt feel like against my own lips and tongue? What would soft tits feel like against my face? As I sat there wondering what it would be like, I felt like a teenager about to discover sex for the first time.

While I waited for Martha, I fixed a fancy dinner and chilled a bottle of wine. Then I took a long, leisurely bath, luxuriating in the hot water, savoring the feel of the soapy, scented water against my tits and cunt. I felt as if my body were more sensitive than it had ever been before.

As I lay in the tub, I found my fingers wandering to my cunt in anticipation of the pleasure that would soon be mine. I rubbed my clit softly, letting myself feel a few tingles of pleasure before I stopped myself.

After my bath, I dressed carefully, the evening's planned activities in mind. First, I placed a dab of perfume between my boobs, deep in the cleavage. Then, I put a drop on each nipple. I also put a hint on fragrance on my cunt.

I pulled on a tight, low-cut dress that showed my tits to their best advantage. I wore no underwear, so there wouldn't be any impediments in Martha's way when the action began in earnest. Then, my heart still pounding, my cunt throbbing, I sat down to wait.

Martha arrived on time. At first, she acted distant, but I could tell by the fire smoldering in her eyes and by the slight flush on her cheeks that she was as excited as I was.

Another woman might have kissed me right away, but Martha acted as if we had gotten together for an evening of quiet conversation. We talked of inconsequential events and happenings.

Then Martha showed her eagerness. "Let's get the dinner over with," she said.

We sat down to eat. Martha ate quickly and voraciously. I didn't pay much attention to the food. Instead, I stared at Martha, trying to imagine what it would be like to touch her and have her touch me.

The dinner was over quickly. Then we sat down next to each other on the couch. Martha turned the lights low and moved close to me. For a moment, she looked appraisingly at me. I returned her gaze.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked. "I'm positive," I told her, "Good. It's taken you a long time, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

Now the time for conversation had passed. Martha embraced me tightly and kissed me on the lips. I kissed her passionately. Our tongues rubbed together, first in one mouth, then the other.

For weeks I had wanted to feel another woman in my arms. Now it had happened. I wasn't disappointed. I wished that I could hold Martha forever, our bodies pressed tightly together, our soft flesh billowing out as we strained against each other.

I pulled my mouth away and began to nuzzle Martha's soft neck. "Oh, Martha, I've been wanting to do this for so long," I moaned.

I felt a fire building within me, starting in my cunt and radiating to the rest of my body. The fever heat of desire increased with each touch of my lips to Martha's flesh.

I kissed her neck for a few minutes, then moved down and kissed the top of her boobs, above the neckline of her dress. The dress was in my way, so, after a few seconds, I reached behind Martha and undid her dress, exposing her naked tits to my mouth. After the dress had fallen away, I gasped at the beauty of Martha's tits, especially the large, pointy nipples.

So far, I had surprised myself. Martha had taken the initiative more strongly than I had, but I had by no means been passive. My ambivalent feelings, my doubts, seemed to have vanished. Perhaps I had somehow managed to erase twenty-three years of taboos in a few minutes.

My eagerness amused Martha. "You are anxious, aren't you?" she said, laughing as she spoke.

Martha had laughed at me, but she was just as anxious as I was. She unfastened my dress and started to pull it down away from my tits. Before she had finished, I got up off the couch and wriggled completely out of the confining garment.

Martha ran her tongue across her lips when she saw that I didn't have anything on beneath my dress.

"You were more anxious than I thought," she said, surprise in her voice.

Her dress down around her waist, Martha stood up. Then she stepped out of her dress. She had worn panties, but the tiny bikini briefs didn't even cover her ample beaver. The crotch of the panties was already damp with the juice that poured from her cunt.

Martha wriggled out of the panties. I stared at her thick curly cunt hair, at the copious fluid that wet the hair, at her erect nipples, but I didn't have much time to look.

"Before you do anything else, you have to learn how to lick another woman's pussy," Martha said.

My dream hadn't followed that pattern, but I didn't mind. Martha's pussy attracted me and I was sure that she would eat mine once I had eaten hers. Besides, I had never eaten another pussy before, so perhaps I did have a lot to learn.

Martha sat down on the couch, her legs far apart, her snatch sticking out a few inches over the edge of the couch so that it would be easily accessible to my tongue.

"Come here, Lori," she said to me, her voice soft but commanding.

I didn't feel afraid, yet some vestiges of my past remained. At first, I didn't move. Just as I had done in the dream, I stayed still, unwilling to run, but unprepared to advance.

"Don't be afraid, Lori. You said you wanted to try it," Martha said coaxingly.

As if to attract me, Martha took both hands and spread the outer lips of her cunt. I could see the rosy inner lips glistening with wetness and I could also see the tiny clit, the shaft barely visible right above Martha's hole.

The sight of the slick, rosy inside of Martha's cunt was sufficiently arousing to overcome my sudden reluctance. I walked forward until I was only a few feet from her.

"Now get on your knees," she ordered.

I did as she asked. I kneeled down in front of her, as I did so moving closer so that I was only a few inches from her. Basically, I knew what to do, but I waited for her guidance, at least on details.

"Stick your tongue as far into my twat as it'll go," she instructed. "Then take out some of the juice with your tongue and spread it all over the outside of my pussy, especially on my clit."

I dove down to her cunt and did as I was told. My tongue snaked down deep into her cunt-hole. It was the first pussy I had ever tasted and it was delicious. I drank up the juice eagerly, in my excitement forgetting to transfer it to the drier parts of Martha's cunt.

"Hey, you're already forgetting what I told you," Martha reminded me. "Take your tongue and move it all over my pussy. The juice from inside and your saliva will moisten me and make me more sensitive. You know how much better your cunt feels when a man wets it down with his tongue. Well, the same thing goes when you're with a woman." I knew what I was supposed to do and I knew why I was supposed to do it, but that first contact with cunt had destroyed my concentration, had completely removed my ability to follow Martha's directions. I had become lost, if only for a few moments, in that delicious inlet and its sweet sea.

I regained control of myself and followed her instructions. I drew my tongue slowly out of her pussy and ran it along her fuzzy outer labes, then along the damp, slippery inner lips. Martha didn't need lubrication there, but she seemed to enjoy it when I focused my attention on those lips. She put her hands on top of my head and pressed, as if to hold me there against her juicing twat. She kept my, head still for a few seconds, then pushed on the back of my head as if to move my head forward and upward.

Martha wanted me to lick her clit. I was glad to oblige. I used the tip of my tongue and ran it up and down the clit, from the base to the narrower shaft, to the slightly swollen top.

Martha went wild as I licked her clitoris. "Oh, God! Lori, that feels so damn good," she moaned.

Martha's hands gripped my head like a vise. She pulled me tightly against her cunt, so I took my tongue off her clit and pushed it into her oozing hole.

"No, no, Lori. Keep licking my clit," she told me. "Use your finger in my hole. The clit is the key."

I knew the clit was the most sensitive part of a woman's cunt, but I had never realized that it should be constantly stimulated when a woman's pussy is being eaten. When men had eaten my snatch, they had paid plenty of attention to my clit, but they had also run their tongues in and out of my hole every few seconds. It had felt good, of course, but I began to wonder what constant licking of my clit would feel like, licking without any interruption.

I moved my tongue back to Martha's clit and then I stuck my middle finger into her dripping cunt-hole.

"Okay, Lori. Now fuck me with your finger," Martha panted.

I moved my finger rhythmically in and out of her snatch while she moaned and writhed on the couch. As she moved closer to orgasm, I could feel her cunt muscles contracting more frequently.

"Put one finger in my other hole," Martha told me.

I stuck my pinky into her asshole. I wanted to use a small finger so that I wouldn't bruise her.

Men had stuck their fingers up my ass while they ate me or fucked me and I knew how it could hurt if they weren't gentle. I had taken a few pricks into my asshole, even Mike's huge rod, and I knew the pain could be incredible if they weren't careful.

Martha's cunt and ass muscles contracted on my fingers. I knew that she was about to come. Her legs tensed and she rose up slightly off the couch. Meanwhile, her hands kept up their firm pressure on my head, pinning me against her cunt.

"Faster, faster!" she yelled.

I stepped up my pace, moving my tongue as fast as I could over her clit. Juice poured out of her cunt-hole all over me.

"I'm coming! I'M COMIIINNGGG!" Martha shouted. Her cunt muscles spasmed wildly and her hands kept pressing on my head, but harder now. I kept licking at her clit while my fingers kept fucking in and out of her tightening cunt and asshole.

Her already ample flow of juice turned into a flood, a torrent of pussy-cream. I kept licking even as it washed down over me. I had never tasted undiluted cunt-juice before that night and I was enjoying every wet moment of it.

Martha finally slumped back on the couch, her orgasm completed. I pulled my tongue away from her pussy, but I left my fingers buried in her ass and cunt.

"How did I do?" I asked.

"Very well," Martha said. "You lost control at first, but after that you were perfect!" I felt her cunt quiver as she spoke.

"Now I'll eat your pussy," she told me, her eyes sparkling.

I pulled my fingers out of her holes and stood up. Martha got up off the couch and replaced me on the floor. I took her position on the edge of the couch. The moment I had long waited for was at hand.

I spread my legs as far as I could and then lay back on the couch. I didn't expect to need my hands to keep Martha in place.

Martha dropped her head down to my cunt. Just as she had instructed me to do, her tongue probed way down deep into my hole. It slid easily down the slippery channel, while cunt-juice and saliva mixed on her tongue.

It felt good, but what she did next felt even better. Martha pulled her tongue out and ran in perfunctorily across the outer pussy-lips tickling me and stimulating me. My clit needed her tongue, but first she stopped to run her soft, wet tongue over the inner lips of my cunt, as I had done to her.

Now it was time for my clit. Martha gently tongued the tiny shaft. I couldn't believe how good it felt. Although men had rubbed it and licked it, none had ever done so as gently as Martha was doing.

I realized that although the clit demands a lot of attention, that attention must be gentle at first, then must increase gradually, but steadily. Men had often rubbed or licked my clit vigorously at the start, then abandoned it to concentrate on my hole.

Martha knew exactly what to do. She softly tongued the clit, at the same time moving one hand up to finger-fuck my hole. As her long, slender finger moved in and out of my cunt, I felt as if my cunt and clit were the center of the whole world. No one could ever have felt such an intense sensation, I remember thinking. I had known pleasure, but never such a powerful all-encompassing total pleasure. After a few seconds, it blotted all else from my mind. The rest of the universe ceased to exist.

As Martha concentrated on my cunt, the pleasure somehow increased. The dream had been incredible, at least for a few brief seconds, but this erotic pleasure far exceeded that in the dream.

It didn't take me long to come. That tongue so busily working on my clit was too much for me. Sensing that I was nearing orgasm, Martha pushed her tongue harder against my clit.

That was all I needed to push me over the brink. I shuddered, once, twice, then came. Martha kept her head between my legs and she continued to lick away at my tender clit. At the same time, her fingers were busy stabbing my cunt.

My cunt felt on fire. It got hotter and hotter. Then, as my orgasm peaked, the fire turned from an intense blaze into a thermonuclear blast. I felt as if explosions were racking my body, lifting me off the couch and sending me soaring into the sky.

This continued on and on, longer than any orgasm I had ever experienced. Martha knew how to prolong it for me. She licked hard until I seemed to reach a peak, then she began to gently nibble at my clit. As I sank back down on the couch, as my muscles started to relax, she tongued me harder and faster. Soon, I was up on top of another peak, this time higher than the one before. Each consecutive explosion sent me higher and higher, until I felt as if I were in outer space.

As my orgasm subsided, finally, I felt numb. I had never been so totally satisfied or so completely exhausted. I didn't speak. I didn't think. I just lay there on the couch for at least five minutes.

As my strength came back, I reflected on my experience. I had never felt anything like it. The constant stimulation of my clit, without any stopping for short forays into my hole, had been incredible in its effect on me. Moreover, Martha had been far better than any man at keeping my orgasm going. Perhaps it was her feminine intuition that allowed her to stimulate me, to arouse me, at exactly the right instant, to the point where I moved to a higher level of passion, but not so high that I reached the point where my passion could only lessen.

I looked down at Martha. She lay on the floor, resting. At first, I thought she was asleep, but she smiled at me and winked. Her eyes had been half-shut, but now they were wide open, staring at me questioningly.

"Was it as good as you expected?" she asked.

"Even better than I expected," I answered. I meant what I said.

"Glad to hear it. You know, the same thing happened to me with my first experience with another woman. I expected it to be good, but turned out to be so unbelievably good."

Martha stood up. "I still have a lot to teach you, Lori," she said, looking at me intently as she spoke.

"I'm ready," I said.

Martha smiled. Maybe she had been afraid that I was too tired or that I was afraid to do too much the first time. Whatever, my eagerness to learn seemed to make her happy.

"Look in my purse. I think you'll find something there that you'll like," Martha told me.

I was mystified. What could she have in her purse?

"Go on. You'll like it. I guarantee it," Martha insisted.

I picked up her purse and reached inside. At first, my grasping fingers didn't find anything. Then, they gripped something cylindrical. It was a hard, rubbery shaft enclosed in some sort of case.

I pulled it out of her purse. "My, my," I said, giggling. "I do like it."

It was a very large dildo -- about twelve inches long and proportionately thick -- encased in a leather sheath. I stripped the sheath from it and hefted it in my hand. The dildo was pink and rubbery, but not too flexible to the touch. It felt like a very good hard-on.

Martha took the dildo from me. "Bend over," she told me.

Facing away from Martha, I bent over, resting my hands on my thighs. I expected her to slam the dildo into my cunt, to shove it way in my hole without any hesitation.

Martha surprised me. While I braced for the assaults of that rubber cock, Martha gently touched its tip to my clit. Her recent attentions had left my clit extremely sensitive, so I responded immediately, moaning as tremors of pleasure moved through my body.

Except for Mike's cock, pricks hadn't done much for me recently. I hadn't expected a dildo to be very exciting as a replacement. In Martha's hands, however, a dildo was more than a mere replacement. She used it with the same patience and control with which she had used her tongue.

She kept rubbing the fake prick against my clit. Then she pushed it into my hole, but she didn't ignore my clit. She used one finger from her free hand to keep up the pressure on my passion-bud. Martha penetrated my snatch gently with the dildo. Inch by inch, she moved it inside, giving my cunt time to adjust to the big rubber cock.

Finally, it was completely inside my hole. Martha now showed me the full potentialities of lesbian sex. If a man had gotten his cock into me, he would have started slamming it in and out of my cunt. A man wielding the dildo would have done the same, using all his strength to fuck it in and out of my hole. Martha moved the dildo efficiently, but not artlessly. She made sure that on each stroke the dildo entered at the proper angle so that it rubbed against my clit. She also varied the tempo to maximize my pleasure.

"Keep it up, Martha. Oh, that feels great," I moaned.

Martha wanted me to enjoy it, but she didn't want me to climax yet. When she saw signs that my orgasm was imminent, she slowed her strokes. Then, an inch at a time, she withdrew the rubber cock.

"Why are you stopping?" I asked petulantly.

"That was just a warm-up. Now we're going to satisfy each other at the same time."

"Do you have another dildo?" I asked.

Martha laughed. "Not with the dildo, Lori. With this." She stuck her tongue out at me.

I remembered Ann and Vicky at the last party. I didn't mind any longer that Martha had taken the dildo out of my cunt. Eating each other simultaneously seemed to hold the greatest potentiality for enjoyment of anything I had done so far.

Martha pushed me down on the floor. Then she spread my legs far apart. Her next move was to get on her knees, one knee on either side of my body.

I looked up and could see Martha's wet snatch only a few feet above my head. Martha looked down and smiled at me. Then she crouched down lower so that her cunt moved into my mouth. At the same time, she bent forward so that her head dropped down to my twat.

Simultaneously, Martha's cunt touched my lips and her mouth touched my cunt. I eagerly drank her juices as they poured down on me. Eating a cunt from below was a much wetter experience than eating one from a frontal position as I had done earlier. I had to keep swallowing to prevent myself from drowning in a sea of twat-honey.

Martha's tongue on my cunt felt as good as it had felt earlier. I enjoyed this even more, however, because there was something beautiful about the way we were satisfying each other. Men and women satisfied each other, of course, whether fucking or eating and sucking, but it wasn't as balanced, as perfectly mutual as two women eating each other out, doing the same thing to each other at the same time, with exactly the same results.

Martha's pressure on my clit varied not only with my own pleasure, but with hers. She tried to keep us at the same level, to insure that we reached climax together. As her own excitement increased, she licked my clit harder and harder. Each time her cunt contracted in a paroxysm of passion, squeezing tightly on my finger, she followed up with more frenetic licking at my cunt.

We worked perfectly in tandem, two tongues, two fingers, two cunts striving for the perfect orgasm. Sex had never felt like this. Never! I had never known what I had missed until the dream and especially until this experience with Martha. Now I knew I would never be the same again!

We climaxed together. When I came, I arched my back and tried to throw myself up at Martha. I wanted to shove my cunt into her mouth. Meanwhile, she pressed her twat down on me, filling my mouth with cunt while I used my tongue to stimulate her swollen clit.

We bounced and bucked on the floor in one of the wildest orgasms I had ever experienced. We rolled from side to side. Then we flipped over. Now I was on top, my head still buried in Martha's cunt, her head still between my legs.

We rolled over again. I was back on the bottom now. The delicious pressure on my cunt had not ceased. It went on and on, the longest and most intense orgasm I had ever experienced.

Cunt-juice had poured out of Martha's twat all over me and my own flood of pussy-cream covered her, but neither of us minded. All we cared about was the pleasurable sensation of tongue on clit.

I thought that it would go on forever, but it ended, of course. As our orgasms subsided, we separated and lay back on the floor. For a few moments, the only sounds were our heavy breathing and sighs of satisfaction.

Again, Martha looked asleep. She appeared to doze for a few minutes. Then she opened her big brown eyes and looked at me.

"Lori, I loved that. You learn so fast, so damn fast. We'll have to do that again. And soon!"

"Thanks. But Mike said that next time he wants it to be the three of us. You, me, and him. He says that three-way sex is the best, but I'm afraid he wants to see how much I enjoy it when I make it with another woman," I told her.

"Probably a little bit of both," Martha said, laughing. "Don't let him know how good it feels. That's one secret women must keep from men. Tell him you liked it with me, but don't tell him how much. Don't let him think it's a threat!"

"I'll do that," I assured her. "But what will I do when he sees us together? He'll know then that it is a real threat."

"Hold back a little, that's all," Martha suggested.

"I'll try," I said. "When should we all get together?" I asked.

"I don't know. I'll have to think of something to tell Bill. He gets a little jealous. I told him tonight that I was coming over to play bridge. I'll think of something for next time. Call me in a few days."

That night, after Martha left, and the next night, and the next, I had the dream. Each time, the dream ended as it always had before, with me wide awake and horny. I didn't mind now. It only made me look forward even more to three-way sex.


When Mike arrived home from his trip, he wanted to hear all about my experience with Martha. I told him about it, but I told him what he wanted to hear.

"It was nice," I told him. "But I still like your cock better. I want to be able to have other women some times, just for something different, but nothing could replace your cock."

Mike watched me carefully. He looked into my eyes as if trying to see there the proof that I was telling the truth. I looked back at him steadily, trying hard to conceal my discomfort at having lied to him.

I then recounted all the details. Throughout, Mike kept up his careful surveillance of my facial expressions. He looked hard for a sign that I had enjoyed it more than I enjoyed sex with him, but I was cautious: I underplayed greatly the amount of satisfaction I had received.

When I had finished my story, Mike smiled. "It sounds like fun. Just as long as it didn't feel as good as when I fuck you," he said. "When do we try three-way sex?" he asked.

"Martha says Bill might be a problem. He'd want to be included if he knew about it," I answered.

"Martha will lie to him, I'm sure," Mike said.

Mike was right. Martha did lie to Bill. She called me the day after Mike got home to tell me about it.

"Hi, Lori," she purred. "Everything's okay for tomorrow night if that's a good time for you. I told Bill that you were having some problems and that we needed to talk them over. He wasn't suspicious at all."

I couldn't help laughing. Martha was resourceful and had no qualms about lying to her husband.

"See you about eight," I said.

"Bye. I'll be there," she said and hung up.

I felt elated at first. Then the potential problems began to haunt me. I would have to restrain myself to keep Mike from realizing the extent of my pleasure. It would be difficult to keep him from making unfavorable comparisons, especially if I didn't come when he fucked me or ate me. There was another problem, a more long-term problem. For married women, lesbian sex as a steady means of gratification just wasn't very feasible. Nor was three-way sex well-suited to a situation where four was a more convenient number.

There were the parties, of course, but they would provide only a partial solution. Occasional cunt-lapping sessions with women like Martha also provided only a partial solution. Neither provided frequent enough lesbian or three-way sex. If I really got to like that type of sex, and I was sure I would, it would be difficult to have it often enough to keep me satisfied. I didn't let these problems bother me too much, but they stayed in the back of my mind. I didn't know at the time that this dilemma would encourage me to look for Susan.

On the night we had chosen for three-way sex, Mike and I both walked around the house in a state of high excitement. Mike's big hard-on bulged out his pants and my cunt was damp.

When the doorbell rang, we both leaped up to answer it. We arrived at the door simultaneously and we grabbed for the doorknob at the same time. When our hands met, we looked at each other and smiled. Then I opened the door and Martha stepped in.

This time Martha made no pretense of cool sophistication. She was ready for the fucking and sucking. Instead of a dress, she wore a tiny mini-skirt and halter. The skirt was barely long enough to cover her pussy; it showed off her long slim legs and alluring, well-shaped thighs. Her halter was not up to the job of restraining her jugs. They bounced up and down as she walked in.

"Hi, folks," she said, her voice low and throaty. Martha seemed much more relaxed and comfortable than she had last time she had visited. I realized that I was much more relaxed, too, despite the problems that might occur.

It was Martha's actions even more than her clothing that showed the abandonment of her usual reserve. As she walked in, she kissed Mike on the lips and grabbed his cock with one hand. The other hand reached out and went between my legs, up my dress.

I hadn't worn underwear again and my cunt was already wet, so Martha's probing fingers found what they had hoped to find. The hand that reached for Mike found what it wanted, too. Martha groaned with anticipation as she rubbed Mike's hard-on through his pants.

We stood there like that for a few minutes. Then Martha stopped kissing Mike and began kissing me, at the same time keeping her hands on my cunt and Mike's cock.

By now, Mike and I were ready to reciprocate. Mike stuck his hand inside Martha's mini-skirt. She had taken a hint from me and hadn't worn any panties either. Mike plunged his thumb into her snatch, using his biggest, strongest finger to prepare her for the later assaults of his cock.

I caressed Martha's tits through the halter. Then I pulled one boob out of the halter and began to rub the nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Next I dropped my hand down to Martha's cunt. Mike's finger had already filled it, so I stuck one finger up Martha's tight asshole.

Martha stopped kissing me. "This is great," she panted. "But let me get out of these clothes."

We walked back into the living room. Martha reached behind her and unhooked her halter, letting it drop to the floor. She undid her mini-skirt and stepped out of it. Last, she let her high platform shoes clatter to the floor.

Martha looked at us impatiently. We had been watching her undress and hadn't taken off any of our own clothes.

"Come on. Let's get started," she told us.

I undressed quickly and left my clothes on the floor next to Martha's. Mike took his clothes off and hung them over the back of a chair. Martha and I both stared at his erect cock; lesbian tendencies or not, we both knew a good hunk of meat when we saw it.

Martha took charge. "Mike, you lie down on the floor," she instructed.

Mike did as she asked. He thought he knew what she had in mind. He lay on his back, his cock sticking up nearly a foot into the air. Martha climbed astride him and let herself down slowly on his prick, allowing it to part the lips of her cunt. As it went in her gash, she rocked back and forth, rubbing the head of Mike's cock against her clit. She moved down slowly, letting his cock slip into her hole an inch at a time.

When Mike's cock had penetrated as far inside her snatch as it could possibly go, Martha motioned for me to join them. I didn't know exactly what to do, so Martha told me.

"Sit on his face," she ordered.

I sat down on Mike's face, thrusting my cunt down at his mouth. I faced Martha, who had begun to bounce up and down rapidly on Mike's cock. Martha reached out and hugged me to her and we kissed.

We had formed one of the many triangles possible in three-way sex. Mike was the base of the triangle, his prick and tongue joining him to Martha and me, who were in turn joined by our mouths and tongues.

Martha's kissing grew more and more frantic. Her tongue explored my mouth and then moved outside, rubbing softly against my ear, then against my neck. I moved my mouth around, too. I kissed Martha's neck and then moved to her tit lavishing most of my attention on those beautiful nipples.

Meanwhile, Mike ate out my cunt with a lot of energy and not a little skill. Nevertheless, it didn't compare to the sensation when Martha had eaten my twat a few days before. Mike licked at my clit, but when he plunged inside my cunt, he stayed there too long, as if he were trying to make his tongue act like a cock. When he did lick my clit, he wasn't as gentle as Martha had been. He licked with the same force from start to finish, never varying the pressure to suit my own level of passion.

Martha was the first to come. Her already stiff nipples hardened even more. She stopped kissing my body and buried her head against my tits, her soft cheek against my nipples. At the same time, she pushed her cunt down hard on Mike's cock.

"What a cock! What a fucking cock!" Martha cried.

Then the full force of her orgasm hit her. Screaming and yelling, she bounced up and down on Mike's cock as fast as she could. Now her lips were all over me, kissing my tits, my neck, my face.

Martha's frenzied climax encouraged Mike. He ate my cunt voraciously while he shoved his cock up into Martha's bucking snatch, rising into the air to meet her each time she descended.

Mike came next. His tongue snaked way into my cunt and stayed there. I looked down and saw that all his muscles had tensed. I could see a few drops of jizz drip out of Martha's twat as Mike's load filled her to overflowing.

I was the only one who had not come. I knew that I had to do something so Mike wouldn't be upset later when Martha made me climax.

I tried to make it feel better. I pushed my cunt down on Mike's face, pressing it against his mouth. It felt good, but not as good as Martha's mouth had felt.

I did the only thing I could do. I exaggerated my pleasure. I yelled and screamed and contracted my cunt muscles as if I were enjoying one of the best orgasms of my life. His tongue had felt good on my snatch, but not that good. I hoped my act had footed him.

I felt slightly frustrated at my inability to climax with Mike. It was the first time since I had met him that he had been unable to bring me to orgasm. Still, I wasn't too upset. I knew my frustration would disappear soon when Martha ate my cunt out. I wouldn't remain unfulfilled for long.

Mike took charge of our next triangular arrangement. Martha had directed the first scenario and perhaps Mike had resented a woman taking control of things. Or maybe he just thought his idea was a good one. Whatever his motivation, he began to order Martha and me around.

"Lie down on this, Lori," he said, holding up a pillow from the sofa.

He put it down on the floor and I did as he asked. I lay down with the pillow underneath my rib-cage. That way, my ass and cunt were elevated into the air.

"Now you lie down in front of Lori. Spread your legs wide for her," Mike told Martha.

Now I realized what he had in mind. I would eat Martha's pussy while Mike would fuck me from behind. I wondered if he would screw me in the ass or in the cunt.

Martha lay down in front of me and spread her legs wide, her dripping snatch open to view. Then Mike lay down on top of me and shoved his prick into my cunt.

The position offered entertaining vistas for all three: Martha could look down and see me licking her cunt; I could look into her beautiful twat; Mike could look down and see my ass or he could look up slightly and see me eating out Martha.

Martha's cunt tasted differently than it had tasted the other night. I recognized the familiar taste of jism mixed in with her cunt-juice. It was not an unpleasant taste, but it was different than the taste of her pure, unadulterated pussy-cream.

I lapped it up as eagerly as I had lapped up her cunt-juice a few nights before. I gulped it greedily, taking it into my mouth and then swallowing it.

Meanwhile, Mike's prick moved in and out of my cunt. Doggie-style fucking was one of my favorites. I enjoyed the feel of Mike's hairy thighs against the smooth flesh of my ass. Moreover, the thickest part of Mike's prick came into frequent contact with my clit, more so than in more conventional positions.

Mike seemed excited by the sight of my blonde head buried in Martha's snatch. The sound excited him, too. We made a lot of noise, Martha's loud exclamations of pleasure joining the soft, pleasing sound of my rhythmic lapping on her cunt. Mike fucked me so hard that he drove me forward on each thrust, pushing me closer to Martha's straining snatch. I felt as if I would disappear into Martha's hole if Mike kept slamming his cock into my cunt so furiously.

Martha had the least patience. Her hands shoved my head closer to her cunt, combining with the force of Mike's thrusts to press my face tightly against her dripping snatch. I could tell that Martha's climax was approaching, so I moved my tongue as fast as I could along her trembling clit. I also shoved one finger into her asshole. I didn't move cautiously. I shoved until the entire length of my finger had disappeared in her shitter.

My finger in her ass was all Martha needed to reach orgasm. Her ass muscles closed on my finger and juice poured from her cunt all over my face. She rotated her crotch feverishly while her hands pressed insistently on my head.

I wanted to come, knowing that if I did, it would make it easier for Mike to accept my lesbianism. I threw my ass and cunt up at him, daring him to fuck me harder.

Mike didn't let me down, but I still couldn't come. In and out, his steel-hard rod efficiently fucked me, but I didn't even come near climaxing.

Again, I put on an act. Partially smothered by Martha's cunt, soft moans escaped my lips. I contracted my cunt muscles op his cock and rolled back and forth beneath him as if I were lost in the throes of orgasm. I prayed that my act was good enough to fool him once again.

Excited by what he thought was the two of us coming, Mike popped his wad. He lurched forward and let go, filling my twat with his load. I felt the hot spunk coat the inside of my cunt and then overflow, dripping down my thighs, but even that wasn't enough to drive me to orgasm.

Mike pulled his cock out. Then he pointed his cock at the entrance to my asshole. A few drops of cum dripped into my bung. My ass had always been extremely sensitive and the hot jizz felt good as it dripped into the tiny, dry hole. I wondered if I would have come if Mike had fucked me up the ass, but I decided that I probably would still have failed to orgasm.

I hadn't been shocked at Mike's inability to bring me off with his tongue. After all, he couldn't hope to match a woman's expertise in that area. I was surprised, however, that his prick hadn't brought me to climax. I had difficulty with Barry, of course, but Barry wasn't Mike. I had expected Mike's big prick to maintain its power over me, no matter how anxious I was to have Martha lick out my snatch.

I was tired, exhausted, and a little worried, but I was still anxious for what had to be next on our agenda. Logically, the next step would be for Martha to eat me while Mike fucked her.

Mike had another suggestion, however, and it both alarmed and cheered me. "I'd like to watch you two," he said.

I would have to be careful. If Mike were watching, he would be more likely to notice bow I responded to Martha. I decided that whatever happened, however good it felt, I would not show my feelings. I would act like I enjoyed it, of course. But I would not let my husband know how much I was enjoying it.

It was time to begin. I removed the pillow from underneath my stomach and rolled over on my side. Martha lay down next to me, her head next to my cunt, my head next to her cunt.

Mike sat down on the couch to watch. "Take your time, girls," he told us. "Don't rush. I've been looking forward to seeing this."

Simultaneously, Martha and I buried our heads in each other's pussies. We started slowly, licking and nibbling around the edges of each other's cunts without moving to the real goodies.

I thought I would die with expectation as Martha's soft tongue caressed my flesh. I couldn't hold myself back and I moved up after a short while to Martha's slit. Following the instructions she had given me last time, I plunged in to her wet gash. Then I drew my tongue out and transferred the sticky spit and cunt-juice to her clit. I hoped that she would immediately do the same for me.

Martha waited a few seconds before following suit. She moved her tongue beyond my cunt first. She probed into my asshole, tickling it on the outside, then going inside a few inches.

Next Martha moved her tongue to my cunt. She went in for the juices, then devoted her attention to my clit. This was what I wanted. I felt like digging my fingers into her flesh, pulling her closer to me, but I held back, afraid what Mike would think.

Martha vibrated her tongue against my clit and, for an instant, I thought I would lose control. Somehow, I kept my passion bottled up inside me. I continued to lick at Martha's cunt, but I didn't moan, tear at her, or give any other signs that my passion was so incredibly intense.

As if by prearranged plan, each of us stuck one finger into the other's cunt-hole and moved the other hand around to grip each other's asses.

Martha ate my cunt as skillfully as she had done before. She tongued my clit softly at first, while my passion increased. Then, as I got more and more aroused, she used her tongue more vigorously, pressing my clit from side to side then running the very tip of her tongue up and down the tiny shaft.

A few moments of such stimulation and I was ready to come. By now I had forgotten all about Mike and about my concern for what he would see and hear. I held Martha as tightly as I could while my greedy tongue lapped at her cunt. Meanwhile, I ground my cunt at her, wanting her to do all she could to make me climax.

Martha slowed down. She told me later that she was worried that if I lost control, Mike would get mad. She was right about that. She moved her tongue more deliberately, still on my clit, but much more softly, so that my excitement declined slightly.

I realized then how close I had come to ruining everything. It had happened too fast. I had forgotten quickly about the need to keep a lid on my passions, to prevent them from exploding openly. As Martha slowed down, I re-established my hold on myself. I decided that no matter how good Martha's tongue felt, I would keep at least part of my mind isolated from that erotic stimulation. I felt worried, even as Martha continued to lick my clit softly.

Those soft tongue caresses felt great! Still, I was confident. As long as Martha held back, I could keep some control over my reactions.

I wanted to yell out my passion as my cunt pulsated against Martha's tongue, but I didn't. Once or twice, I started jerking my cunt at Martha, shoving it in her face, at the same time using my hands to pull Martha's cunt to my face. This was the only sign of the heat that burned within me. On the outside at least, I didn't appear any hotter than usual. I doubted if Mike could guess that an unusually hot flame of passion burned in my cunt.

I wanted to writhe around, to roll back and forth on the floor, but I held myself still. Paradoxically, my effort at self-control began to increase the intensity of the feeling in my cunt. Instead of being diffused over my whole body, my excitement centered on my clit. With my feelings thus concentrated, I began to approach orgasm once again.

Even as I felt myself coming, I determined to hold back. Martha must have forgotten about Mike because she pulled a new trick out of her bag. This little novelty undid all her good work of the evening.

Just as I began to come, Martha stopped licking my clit. Instead, she took the clit between her lips and sucked. The sucking was one of the most intensely erotic sensations I had ever felt.

I forgot where I was, what I was doing, whom I was doing it with. I lived only for the delicious suction on my clit. I forgot about will power, about control, about anything but that incredible feeling.

I moved higher and higher. The fire within me got hotter and hotter. As my orgasm peaked, I frantically lapped at Martha's cunt, with no rhythm, no plan, but with my own fantastic orgasm giving frenetic energy to my tongue.

Martha soon let loose a shuddering climax. Her legs went slack, then tightened like a vise around my head. The suction on my clit grew stronger. It almost hurt, but was at the fine line that divided tremendous pleasure from searing pain.

My orgasm went on seemingly forever. Then, as I came back to reality, I realized the enormity of my mistake. I had forgotten about Mike! I had gone through one of the best orgasms of my life while in the embrace of another woman and had been stupid enough to do it right in front of my husband!

Had he realized it? I wondered. How much of it had been visible? Had I betrayed the feelings inside me? Did Mike realize the difference between that orgasm and the act I had put on when he ate me or fucked me?

Mike's face was a mask. He betrayed no emotion, but I knew him well enough to know that be was angry. His eyes were cold and his fists were clenched, but his face was totally impassive.

I felt uneasy. He couldn't have missed the obvious, I decided. I wondered what he would do now. "Well, I guess it's time to go," I said, my matter-of-fact words not hiding the unease inside me.

"Yeah, we'd better go," Mike said slowly. He bit off his words as he spoke, as if he were afraid that if he relaxed and spoke in his normal manner, he might say something he would later regret.

We got dressed, said goodnight to Martha, and then went upstairs to bed. For a few moments, Mike lay next to me without speaking. Then, he exploded.

"You must be a Goddamn dyke!" he shouted. "I've never seen you come like that."

"I'm not a dyke," I told him. "It felt good, but it feels good when I'm with you, too."

"Why didn't you come with me as hard as you did with her?"

"I did, but you were too busy to notice," I explained.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked, puzzled by my words.

"When you're making love to me, you aren't sitting there staring at me. So you don't know precisely how I react."

"That's true," Mike admitted. "But there's one thing wrong with your explanation. I've seen you at the parties with other men and you don't get nearly as aroused with them as you did tonight with Martha." Mike's comments worried me, but I felt relieved, too. He had noticed a difference between my orgasms with Martha and my supposed orgasms with him, but at least he hadn't noticed that I had been acting when I was with him.

I decided to try to weaken his criticism by flattering him.

"Those aren't men like you," I told him. I hoped that he would leave me alone after I told him that.

Mike looked dubious. "I think you're trying to massage my ego. I hate to admit it, but a lot of the other guys fuck you pretty well. You're trying to tell me that they don't excite you as much as Martha excites you, but that I do?"

"It's the truth, Mike," I assured him. "Don't forget that when Martha ate me tonight, you'd already licked my pussy and fucked me. That helped prepare me." I didn't tell him that I had hardly been stimulated at all by what he had done to me.

"Okay, Lori," he told me. "If you say so, I'll believe you. But it worries me that you like Martha better than most men, if not better than me. Maybe you'll decide someday that you like sex with her better than with me. I told you that you were in trouble if you preferred women to men. You've already admitted that you do. I should put a stop to this lesbian stuff, but I won't if I ever decide you like women better than me, you're really in trouble. Don't ever forget that."

He wasn't finished. "From now on, no more private get togethers with just you and one other woman. If you want to be with another woman at the parties, that's fine. From now on, your main contact with other women will be at the parties or three-way sex with me involved. That way I'll be able to keep an eye on you. And I'll be able to enjoy three-way sex."

I decided that Mike's plan was at least a partial victory for me, but it was still upsetting. I would still be able to have sexual contacts with other women, but they wouldn't be very frequent. I had been worried before about having lesbian sex often enough to be satisfied; now that Mike had prohibited one-to-one lesbian relationships, I had lost one potential source of satisfaction. I still could have them if I wanted to do so behind Mike's back, but I didn't want to do that. I didn't feel badly about lying to him when it meant lying about my feelings, but I never could have lied to him about a secret relationship. That left the parties and three-way sex. My partial victory was better than nothing, I knew, but I was still worried about the future.

There was only one answer. Mike and I would have to find a woman who would regularly have three-way sex with us. It wouldn't be easy. As the problems Martha had with Bill made me realize, it wasn't always easy to find a woman who could free herself of her husband for three-way sex. We would have to find a single woman who wanted to have three-way sex and have it often. But how could we find one?

I decided to confront Mike with the problem and with my vague solution.

"Mike, I think it will be difficult to have three-way sex very often. Martha had to lie to Bill in order to join us tonight. Most married women will have that problem. We need to find at single woman so those problems don't happen."

"Yeah," Mike said. "But this is suburbia. We don't know anyone single. How can we find someone single who's also bisexual?"

"We could ask around," I suggested. It was a pretty lame idea and I knew it.

"Sure. Maybe we'll find someone by 1980."

"We could look in the personal ads in the underground newspaper," I suggested. "We might find something. We have nothing to lose."

"Good idea," Mike said. "I'll go buy one."

He returned about fifteen minutes later. We scanned the personal columns. There was nothing promising -- mostly gay males and a few horny people of either sex looking for individual who might satisfy them. No bi-females looking for attractive young couples.

I felt discouraged, but Mike didn't. "It might take a while," he said. "Just be patient."

I had no choice but to wait. I was impatient, anxious, horny for other women; nevertheless, there was little I could do except wait for the next party, for Martha's next visit, for three-way sex, or for us to find someone in the paper.

I didn't realize it, but we were close to discovering Susan. It would only be a few weeks before we found each other. If I had known that, I wouldn't have been as anxious.

The dream continued, of course, but now it bothered me as much as it had at first. The future was so uncertain that I couldn't wake up from the dream sure that my lust would soon be satisfied. Moreover, now that Mike's prick had lost much of its ability to satisfy me, his cock couldn't banish for me the disturbing thoughts that plagued me when I awakened from the dream.


As our search made no progress, I grew more depressed. In two weeks of looking, we had found no ads that seemed promising. Then, one afternoon, we found the ad we had been looking for.

We discovered the ad at a time when I should have been elated, but wasn't. That night, we planned to go to a party where I would have lesbian and three-way sex in public for the first time. Although everything pointed to an enjoyable evening, I wasn't excited. Enjoying myself at the party would only make my basic problem worse. I would have a great time, then have to go for weeks without touching another woman. It was frustrating.

As I sat there mulling over my problems, Mike let out an excited shout.

"I've found an ad that looks good!" he yelled. I ran into the den and, looking over his shoulder, read the ad.


"Maybe she's what we're looking for, but it's hard to tell," I said. "She may be bisexual, but if she isn't, it won't solve any of our problems."

"Why do you think she asked for a couple? She must be bisexual," Mike insisted.

"She might be. In fact, she probably is. But we can't be sure. I've heard of arrangements where a girl lives with a couple and the couple doesn't really share her. The wife isn't interested in sex or gets her kicks from watching her husband fucking the girl. This girl might be looking for an arrangement like that," I told him.

"That could be, but I doubt it," Mike said. "Let's call. We have nothing to lose."

Mike dialed the number. My heart was pounding and my legs were weak. I wondered if this could be it. Would a beautiful, bisexual girl soon be living with us?

I listened eagerly to the conversation, but felt more frustrated afterwards than I had in the beginning. Mike had insisted on playing it straight, arguing that we should take it slow and not risk scaring her off. We were to pick her up tomorrow at five. I grabbed the piece of paper he had written the address on. It said: Susan Knight, George Washington Motel, 234 Grand Avenue.

Despite my anxieties and reservations, even the chance for a solution was enough to lift the pall of depression from me. I could get excited about the night's party now, especially since I knew we would see Susan the next day. I felt the familiar warmth in my cunt that I had felt during the last few weeks whenever I thought about lesbianism. Tonight would be my first public performance!

I didn't get dressed up for this party. No involved strip-tease this time. I put on a fur coat, but I didn't wear anything else.

When we arrived, about half the guests were already there. I could tell every eye was on me as I stripped off my coat. When the crowd saw I wore nothing under my coat, there was a collective gasp of surprise.

"Hey, Lori!" one man yelled. "You didn't want to waste any time, did you?"

Another man was less subtle. "I'm ready if you are!" he shouted.

I ignored the men. I had something quite different in mind. I scanned the room quickly. Then I spotted Cynthia, a beautiful black girl. If I were going to do something for the first time, it would be really novel to do it with Cynthia. I would combine two firsts, my first woman in front of the group and my first black.

I walked over to Cynthia. I think she sensed what I was there for.

"Why, hello, Lori," she said softly. "What you want, honey?"

I stared at her without saying a word. My eyes moved over her body and lingered on the black, curly wool of her pussy. Then I moved my eyes up to stare at Cynthia's tits, especially where her dark-brown nipples stood out against the lighter brown of her tits.

I had admired Cynthia at a few parties. I thought she looked like a lean panther, a black one, of course. Her tits weren't big and her body wasn't extremely voluptuous, but she had a certain muscular, feline power. Her body was long and supple and she did everything with grace, whether it was walking, dancing, or fucking.

There was something else about Cynthia that attracted me to her. She had a thick, wiry beaver that covered what had to be the largest cunt of any woman in our group. I had once seen Mike push three fingers into her cunt at the same time.

"I think I know what you want," Cynthia finally said. "I've been wondering about you lately, Lori. When did you discover us?" she asked.

I didn't know if she meant women or blacks. I decided she probably meant women.

"A few weeks ago," I told her.

Cynthia put her arms around me and kissed me. She rubbed her thick muff against mine and I thrilled at the feel of the kinky fur against my own snatch. I rubbed my big, soft tits against her small hard ones.

"Never thought I'd get to touch you, honey," Cynthia said to me, her voice low.

I didn't answer. I took my forefinger and shoved it into Cynthia's wide cunt. The hole was so big that my finger didn't touch the sides on the way in. It just sank right in to the deeper reaches of Cynthia's cunt.

Cynthia and I sank to the floor. Now the action would really begin, I thought. Cynthia spread her legs and lay back. I stuck my face against her pussy, rubbing my lips and cheeks against the wooly bush. Then I dove in. I did as Martha told me. I shoved my tongue in deep and then brought it out slowly. It was like driving a small car into a big tunnel. I was almost lost in her huge cunt.

I transferred some saliva and cunt-juice to Cynthia's clit. It was truly a wondrous clit, at least twice the size of Martha's. The cylindrical piece of flesh stuck way up out of her twat, easily accessible to my tongue.

"Eat me, Lori! Go down on me, bitch!" Cynthia shrieked.

Cynthia's hands clawed at me, scratching at my flesh. She was like an animal now, screaming, tearing at me, abandoning herself completely to the pleasures of lesbian sex. Martha had been wild and unrestrained, but Cynthia was even wilder.

I decided to try the little trick Martha had taught me. I took Cynthia's big clit into my mouth and sucked on it. At the same time, I added a few embellishments of my own. I nibbled her clit with my teeth and ran my tongue across its swollen tip.

Not only was Cynthia's clit larger than most, but it was also more sensitive. After a few minutes of this, Cynthia was obviously ready to come. I realized it and shifted my position so that she could eat my cunt while I ate hers.

I reached my hands down and put them into Cynthia's big Afro. I pushed down on her head, sending it on its way to my cunt.

"Do unto others, baby..." Cynthia said just before her face buried itself in my twat.

Then Cynthia illustrated what she meant. She sucked hard on my clit, drawing it into her mouth, keeping up the same delicious pressure that I had exerted on her passion-bud.

For a few moments, I was aware of the crowd. Once, I opened my eyes and thought I saw Mike leaning down closely to watch. After a while, however, I forgot about everything except Cynthia and what she was doing to my clit.

Cynthia came first, with me only a few seconds behind. As soon as I heard Cynthia's moans of ecstasy bubbling up through the juices of my cunt, I stopped working on Cynthia's clit and stuck my tongue into the inviting pool of twat-honey beneath. Cynthia's pussy had been well-lubricated before her orgasm, but now a sticky, sweet-tasting flood virtually poured like a waterfall from her cunt. I drank it up for a few seconds, then went back to work on her clit.

When I came, I was unaware of the crowd, of Mike's presence, of anything but my own cunt and the tongue licking at it. I didn't hold back at all, but moved like a dervish, whirling, leaping, rolling around on the floor.

Only after my come had subsided did I realize that I had forgotten to hold back. Had Mike noticed how hard I had come? If he had, would he be mad? Would he decide that the plan for Susan was too dangerous? Then I decided to forget about it, not to let it ruin my evening. I decided that whatever happened, well, that was it. If Mike didn't like it, I would try to lie my way out of it. If I couldn't, well.

I tried to banish the upsetting thoughts from my mind. I opened my eyes and looked up, expecting to see the crowd around us, watching us. No one was near us. They had moved across the room to watch another couple.

I walked over to watch the other couple. It was Cynthia's husband, a black stud named Jimmy, busy fucking a little red-headed white girl named Sally. It was an interesting exhibition. Sally was one of the smallest girls at the party and Jimmy's large, black cock seemed much too large for her twat. Indeed, his dark rod, surrounded by her red cunt hair, looked as if it were about to split her in two.

Appearances could deceive. Sally surprised me by the way she held all of Jimmy's cock in her twat. She didn't show any pain and she appeared to be enjoying getting fucked. Somehow, she not only held his huge prick inside her cunt, but she moved up at him, too, as it she wanted even more cock.

Jimmy's weight and power dominated her. Each time that he shoved his cock into her hole, the force of his thrust slammed her pert little ass against the floor.

Sally kept up a running commentary. "Ohhhh! Put the prick to me, you black son of a bitch!" she panted.

Jimmy's style was different from Sally's and also from his wife's. He ignored Sally's commentary and didn't say a word. Indifferent to Sally's exclamations, he kept his rhythm, fucking her without mercy.

"Shove that big black cock in!" Sally shouted. Her hands left red furrows on Jimmy's back where her nails dug into him.

Nothing fazed Jimmy. He kept fucking her at a measured pace, his cock ceaselessly driving in and out of her cunt, his thrusts pushing her down hard to the floor on each stroke.

Sally began to come and even then Jimmy neither slackened nor increased the speed with which he fucked her. He fucked her almost as if her reactions didn't exist. There was something very impersonal about it, but it was erotic nonetheless.

Suddenly, just as Sally's orgasm peaked, Jimmy broke his fuck-rhythm. He pulled his dark, uncircumcised cock all the way out of Sally's hole.

Sally rose up off the floor, reaching with her snatch for the black man's rod, trying to regain it. Jimmy let her search for it. He held his cock an inch or two above her hole, torturing her.

"Jimmy, please! Give me your cock!" Sally begged.

Jimmy finally let her have it. He drove down into her cunt with great force, slamming her to the floor and keeping her there, impaled on his plunging prick.

I wondered what would happen next. I realized that I was breathing as hard as if I were coming myself. Jimmy was something else to watch. He knew how to put on a show.

Jimmy let himself go. He started fucking Sally as hard as he could, now that he had demonstrated his mastery over her. Each determined thrust sent juice flying out of her cunt. Sally grunted with pain at the first furious penetration, then moaned with ecstasy as his prick hit bottom each time.

Now that Jimmy had decided to fuck her hard, it didn't take him long to come. He had another surprise for Sally though. As he began to shoot, he pulled his cock out of her cunt and shoved it into her mouth. She eagerly took his spurting tool between her lips and drank the massive load of jizz he poured into her.

When Jimmy and Sally had slumped to the floor drained of energy, the crowd's attention turned elsewhere. Another couple had begun fucking across the room. I started to walk over to look. Then I glanced down and noticed that my hand had wandered to my cunt. I had been rubbing my own twat as I watched the show. More important, it had been Jimmy, more than Sally, who had stimulated me. I wasn't disappointed to realize that big cocks were regaining their erotic fascination for me. It would make it much easier to fool Mike if I were able to come when he fucked me.

By now, couples were fucking all over the place. I saw Mike in a corner, fucking a little blonde. Then I spotted Martha. She was crouched on all fours while Barry, who had hosted the last party we had attended, was trying to get his big cock up her very small asshole.

It was a tight fit. I had been careful when I put my finger up Martha's ass. Barry was trying to be careful with his cock. He only had it in her butt a few inches and he moved very gently. Martha grimaced with pain as she struggled to accommodate the prick that was tearing her shitter nearly in two. She started to move away, as if to escape, but she thought better of it and stayed put.

I had enjoyed having lesbian sex in front of everyone. I decided it was time for three-way sex. I walked over to Barry and Martha. I lay down underneath them and then strained up at them.

Martha lowered herself slightly so I could reach her. Then I stuck out my tongue and pushed it into her cunt. I pulled it out, all wet and slippery with her twat-juice, and stuck it against her asshole, right next to Barry's cock.

Barry saw what I was trying to do. He withdrew his cock for a second. I darted my tongue into Martha's dry hung and moistened it so that Barry's prick would slide in more easily.

"Thanks, Lori. Thanks a lot." Martha moaned as Barry stuck his prick back in her asshole, this time penetrating easily.

Now it was Barry's turn to receive my attentions. I used my tongue to bathe the exposed portion of his prick with wet caresses. This helped Martha, too, because it made his prick very slippery as more and more of it sank into her asshole.

I turned my attention back to Martha. I licked at her clit while Barry rhythmically stroked in and out of her ass. The sounds of pleasure escaping from Martha's lips told me that the painful part was over for her.

When Martha reached climax, I lay beneath them and watched. She shoved her ass at Barry, her tentativeness of a few moments before gone completely. Barry fucked her ass with no more caution than he would have displayed had he been fucking her cunt.

Martha let out a convulsive scream of pleasure. The sound acted like a signal to Barry and brought him to climax. Then Martha's tight ass muscles squeezed cum out of his bloated balls until her asshole overflowed with the creamy jizz.

They needed me again so I raised up and licked up the fuck-cream as it overflowed from Martha's ass. As soon as I had started to do that, Barry took his cock out of Martha's asshole and moved away from her. Obsessed with the task at hand, I didn't pay any attention to his whereabouts.

A few seconds later, I found out where he had gone. Barry grabbed me, pulling me away from Martha, and rolled me over on my stomach. Then, in one thrust, he tried to shave his cock up my asshole. I screamed with pain and fell forward, flat on the ground.

I wanted three-way sex, especially since my old desire for cock had reasserted itself slightly, but I had not imagined that my very first public three-way experience would include getting fucked up the ass. I liked getting fucked back there, but slowly, not the way Barry was doing it. I felt as if his cock were splitting me in half.

Despite the pain, I decided to take what Barry had to offer. I stopped worrying about it and braced myself for his next thrust. I decided that it would help to distract myself from the pain so I motioned for Martha.

She understood what I wanted. She licked at Barry's cock, moistening it with her spit. Then she lay down in front of me and spread her legs. I bent down and began to eat her twat.

My earlier efforts and Barry's determined buggering had primed Martha for having me lick out her cunt. As soon as my tongue made contact with the soft slippery bud of her clit, she came again.

By now I was so involved in eating Martha's snatch that I had forgotten about the pain Barry had provided by his over-eager assaults on my asshole. Then Barry came, too. His cock swelled against the sore flesh of my asshole. Then he fucked my butt even harder than before as his orgasm hit him. At first, it hurt. Then, as his hot jizz filled my hole, it felt better. His cock moved more easily after his spunk had lubricated my asshole.

I was the only one who hadn't come. I had not really enjoyed Barry's cock, but that was mainly the result of his decision to fuck me so brutally up the ass. I was sure I would have enjoyed it and pretty certain I would have come if he had fucked my cunt.

As I had done when Mike had fucked me while I ate Martha, I exaggerated my excitement.

"Barry, I love it!" I screamed as loudly as I could. I hoped that Mike heard me.

Barry took my screams for encouragement. Unfortunately, his own orgasm hadn't diminished his hard-on and it still painfully stretched my asshole.

Finally, Barry withdrew his cock. My ass hurt like hell. Nevertheless, I still had my face buried in Martha's tasty snatch and that helped make up for the pain.

I gave Martha's cunt one last lick and then I stood up. I wanted to see where Mike had gone and to find out if he was angry. I wanted to discover whether or not he had realized how excited I had been with Cynthia earlier that night. I also wondered if my feigned excitement over Barry's ass-fucking had fooled Mike as easily as it fooled Barry.

When I found Mike, he had already started to get dressed. He looked at me strangely.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

"Yes. Are you?" I couldn't tell if he was angry or not. His expression was calm, but I thought I detected some tension beneath the surface.

I decided to take the bull by the horns. "Did you like watching me with Cynthia?" I asked.

"Yes and no," he said enigmatically.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"I'll tell you when we get home," he said.

We rode home silently. As soon as we were inside our house, I asked Mike what he had meant by yes and no.

"I liked watching you," he explained. "Cynthia's a tough-looking chick. It turned me on to watch you with her. But I didn't exactly enjoy the way you acted when you started to come. You went absolutely crazy. I've never seen you do that with any man, including me."

"I liked it," I admitted. "But I'm not going to argue with you about how much," I told him. "We're supposed to meet Susan tomorrow. Why have a fight now?"

"That's just the point," Mike said. "You seem to like women better than men and we're close to taking a woman into our house. I feel like not picking her up tomorrow."

"Look, Mike. We don't even know if she's bisexual. We don't know if she'll be attractive, either. But if you're so damn worried, I'll promise you that if you ever want her to leave, she'll leave. All you'll have to do is say the word. We should at least try it and see how it works out."

"I guess you're right, Lori," he said. "But I'll remember your promise. If I say out, she goes out. No delay. No arguments. If I want her to go, she goes." I told him.

"Let's not be so damn grim about it"

"As long as we've decided to give her a try, let's enjoy it. It might be the best thing that ever happens to us."

Mike smiled his old, familiar smile. "Okay, Lori. I'll try to relax and enjoy it. I'll help if she's good-looking. Let's hope she is. But don't forget that promise."

Again I had won a victory, a victory with reservations, a victory that didn't eliminate potential problems, but a victory nonetheless. At least we would be picking Susan up the next day.

That night, I had the dream again. The dream changed considerably, however. My own role reversed itself completely. I was no longer a reluctant lesbian, but a seductress!

At the start of the dream, I lay on the four-poster bed in the beautiful room that I had dreamed about before. A girl I had never seen before stood at the door. I knew her name.

"Susan, please come here," I said to her.

She was a beautiful young girl, long brown hair, a pretty face, a curvy body, a hairy beaver. She was as reluctant to approach me as I had been to approach the Eurasian woman in my earlier dreams.

The rest of the dream followed the same pattern as my previous dreams, except for the total reversal of roles for me. I coaxed the girl, brought her to the bed. Then I bent my head down and started to kiss her pussy. At that point, the dream ended.

I awakened, horny, but exhilarated. I decided that the dream had to be a good sign, an omen of good fortune. I was sure now that Susan would be beautiful and that she would be receptive to my sexual advances. If she weren't bisexual already, she would be soon.


The day after the party was the day we were to meet Susan. I found it agonizing to wait until five o'clock, the time Mike had arranged to pick her up at her motel. I tried to busy myself with cleaning the house to make it ready for her in case she did come to live with us.

Finally, late in the afternoon, we drove over to pick her up. On the way, Mike and I discussed how we should handle ourselves when we met her, finally deciding to just play it by ear.

We parked the car and walked into the motel lobby. After a few minutes of waiting around aimlessly, we were even more anxious than before. Suddenly, Mike's eyes lit up. I looked around and gave a start of surprise when I saw what he saw. A girl was walking towards us.

It had to be Susan. At first glance, she seemed as much woman as girl. She combined all the freshness of youth with the radiant sexuality and fully developed body of a mature woman. She had a beautiful face, highlighted by luminous green eyes and a full-lipped sensuous mouth. A thick black mane of hair trained the perfect oval of her face. She had a perfect body. Her thin blouse didn't hide her big tits. Mike took in his breath sharply at the sight of those two magnificent jugs. The rest of her body was good, too. She had a narrow waist, round hips, and a firm, well-shaped ass. Her low-slung jeans were so tight they looked like they had been painted on.

She walked up to us and for a second Mike and I were speechless. She spoke first.

"You must be Mr. and Mrs. Adams," she said. Then she smiled, a beautiful, white-toothed smile. She didn't look the same as the girl in my dream, but she was even more beautiful.

Mike regained his power of speech. "You can call us Mike and Lori," he told her. "Let's go into the bar and talk for a while."

We walked into the motel's dark, smoky cocktail lounge. The three of us crowded into a snug corner booth, Mike and I on either side of Susan. I moved close to her and felt her firm hip pressed against mine. I moved even closer; she didn't try to move away.

"Where are you from?" Mike asked.

"From not too far away," Susan answered.

The vagueness of her answer surprised us, but neither Mike nor I were willing to press her any further.

"Why are you looking for someone to live with?" I asked.

"I can't live at home any more. I don't enjoy living alone either. I don't want roommates my own age because they're too immature," Susan explained.

Again her answer told us a little, but not really very much about her. But we were reluctant to press her for more details. We were both afraid that she might resent such questioning and leave. I hoped we would learn the answers with time, just as I hoped we would learn about her views on bisexuality. We were both so taken with her sensual beauty that we didn't want to risk losing her so soon.

"Do you want me to pay room and board?" Susan asked. She had a lot of self-assurance, I realized. We hadn't even told her that she would definitely be living with us.

"That won't be necessary," Mike assured her. Then he smiled and winked. "You can help out around the house," he said.

Susan smiled shyly. "I guess I could," she answered.

"Let's go get your stuff. You can move in tonight," Mike said.

"I've packed up all my things. I'll go to my room and get them," Susan said.

Mike and I went with her to help. As we walked to the room, Mike and I a few steps behind her, we could see an inch or two of rear cleavage where her low-slung jeans had slipped down to reveal part of her ass to us. We couldn't take our eyes off her.

As we walked along, I thought about the problems that might develop if this young beauty came to live with us. I would have to restrain myself, of course. I would have to wait until we were sure she was ready for lesbian sex and three-way sex. Then I would have to hold back and make sure that Mike didn't feel threatened by the intensity of my response to Susan. A new problem had developed, however, and it bothered me as much as the other, older, problems. Susan was so damn good-looking that I wondered if Mike might eventually decide he preferred her to me. I had never been afraid of competition before, but I had never seen anyone quite like Susan either.

As I had done for weeks, I managed to push my disturbing thoughts from my mind. There was too much to be happy about. We had found a beautiful girl and she was coming to live with us! I would worry about the problems some other time.

We picked up Susan's luggage from her motel room. The luggage gave me pause for thought. It was extremely expensive-looking imported leather luggage, not the sort of baggage one would expect an eighteen-year-old on the move to be carrying around. I wondered about Susan. Who was this girl? What type of background did she come from. She carried the finest luggage, spoke in a manner that hinted at breeding, and carried herself with the assurance of the rich and well-born. Yet she was reluctant to talk about her past.

During the drive home, we talked of inconsequential things. The conversation told us little about Susan. She didn't seem at all shy as long as the conversation stayed away from sex.

When we got home, we showed Susan her room. We gave her the bedroom closest to ours. Then we left her alone to unpack while we went to our room to discuss our course of action.

"I think she looks ready for me," Mike said. "She looks pretty grown-up for eighteen years old. Still, she seemed a little shy when I sort of hinted that sex would be involved in her relationship with us. We should be positive before I make my move."

"I doubt it you'll have much trouble," I told him. "She's pretty young so she might seem innocent and act like she's shy about sex, but she's probably done it all. With a face and body like that, I'm sure she hasn't been able to keep men away from her. I hope she hasn't been able to keep women away, either. She didn't seem anxious to move away when I rubbed against her in the booth, but that's not much to go on. I'll talk to her and at least try to find out if she's ready for you."

As an excuse to talk to Susan, I took her on a tour of the house. I didn't plan to question her directly about sex and I definitely didn't plan to hint that I was bisexual, but I did want to probe into her attitudes indirectly.

"We'll really enjoy having you in the house," I told her.

"I'll enjoy being here," she said.

"What do you like to do for fun?" I asked.

Susan blushed slightly. "Oh, lots of things," she said. Then, embarrassed, she looked down at the floor.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Oh, you know..." she said, still looking down as she spoke.

Susan had told me what I wanted to know. She had to have been talking about sex. She had given me the information that she liked it, but at the same time, she had still managed to continue her attempt to appear innocent. I wondered if it were a deliberate effort on her part, or whether it was the consequence of trying since puberty to reconcile her lusts with her youth.

After I had showed Susan around, I went back to our bedroom and told Mike that I thought everything was all right.

"No problems, Mike. She's ready for you."

"Good," Mike said.

He had on a loosely belted robe. I reached under it and touched his big cock. Surely one look at that big prick would be enough to melt Susan's resistance, if indeed she wasn't as ready as I thought she was.

"You're ready, so ready," I told him. "Give it to her."

Mike walked down the hall to Susan's room and knocked.

"Come in," I heard Susan say, her voice low and inviting, the shyness she had shown earlier seemingly gone completely.

Mike walked into her room, leaving the door partly ajar. I immediately ran out of my room and peeked into Susan's room through the door.

Susan lay on the bed wearing a short, very flimsy nightgown. I was surprised that she didn't try to cover herself at all. I had expected her to at least display a semblance of shyness and innocence.

"I came in to say goodnight. Lori just fell asleep." Mike told her.

I smiled to myself at Mike's lie. Then I squinted in the dim light, trying to see Susan's beautiful body -- the huge tits surging up against the fabric of her gown, her pointy nipples, her cunt and its large bushy mass of black hair, her long, finely shaped legs.

I ran my tongue over my lips and felt my own cunt filling up with juice at the thought of pushing my tongue into Susan's lush hole. I formed a mental picture of Susan's long, languorous legs curled around my blonde head.

"I guess I have everything I need now," she answered, her eyes fastening on his hard-on. She had obviously dropped all pretense of innocence.

Susan's mouth opened slightly and her nostrils flared. She climbed off the bed and walked over to Mike. Then she undid the belt on his robe and stepped back to admire him.

"Oh, my," she said. "You really are big."

From the door, I could see Mike's cock. It was a huge as ever -- the big knob swollen and angry looking, the shaft darker than the tip, pulsing with the blood that coursed through its veins.

I realized that I had been breathing hard as I watched. I tried to hold my breath. I didn't want Susan to know that I was watching.

Susan's hand reached out and closed around Mike's enormous prick. She began to move her fingers up and down its shaft, savoring the feel of the rocklike meat.

"Oh, Mike," she panted. "It's so big and so hard."

Mike slipped her nightgown off her shoulders. She helped by wiggling her body, sending the gown to the floor. One graceful step and she was completely naked.

Her nude body was truly breathtaking. It was hard to believe that an eighteen-year-old girl could be so well-endowed. Those big tits, so huge, but yet so firm. That beaver with its glorious dark curly hair. Her smooth ass was perfect, a sphere bisected by the deep, fuzzy crack. Her body looked as if it had been made for sex. She had looked good before. Her gown had hidden little of her body, but there was something astonishing about the sight of such a body totally unclothed.

I could barely hold myself back. I started to walk into the room, then thought better of it. I stepped back away from the door so that Susan wouldn't hear my excited breathing.

Meanwhile, Mike was busy. He hefted one of Susan's tits. Then he bent forward and kissed the nipple. Susan let out a small cry of pleasure and, within a few seconds, the nipple had grown erect in Mike's mouth.

"Oh, Mike, Mike," she moaned. "I want you. I want you so very much. I've wanted you ever since I first saw you at the motel."

Mike didn't answer. He didn't want to waste time talking. He moved to Susan's other boob and repeated his procedure. While Mike worked on her tits, Susan reached down and began to play with his big balls. She bounced his fuck-sac on her palm, then held each ball in turn between her fingers.

Susan was quiet now, but she had closed her eyes tightly and her mouth was half-open. She had thrown her head back. Her tongue emerged from between her lips to play along the outer surfaces of her mouth. Meanwhile, she rubbed Mike's cock faster and faster.

Suddenly, Susan swooped down to take Mike's cock into her mouth. She moved slowly at first, her lips stretched wide by his huge prick. She used her moist tongue to cover his tool with wet tongue kisses. When she had thoroughly lubricated his cock, she began to move her lips up and down the shaft.

Mike stood still at first, enjoying the sensation of her mouth on his prick. She had moved her tongue to the most sensitive part of his cock, the tender underside at the thickest part of the shaft.

Mike began to rock back and forth, fucking her mouth, driving his cock between her lips and into the entrance of her throat. Susan gagged at first, but soon she seemed to enjoy it. She had opened her eyes so that she could look down and see the big cock sliding in and out of her mouth.

At first, her hands guided his hard and erect rod, as if she feared that he would deny her. When she realized his cock was in her mouth to stay, she put her hands around his back, tugging at his thighs to pull more of his dick into her. Impelled by her straining hands, Mike fucked his cock in and out of her mouth.

Mike grabbed Susan by the back of the head. I could tell that he was about to come. He gave a small grunt of pleasure and released his load. Susan tried to swallow it, but it was too much for her. The cum frothed up and covered her lips and chin.

She finally spat his cock out and tried to wipe the jizz from her face. "You nearly drowned me," she said, but she smiled as she said it. Obviously, she hadn't minded.

From my spot at the door, I had seen it all. I wished that I could join them. Mesmerized, I gazed at Susan's luscious nakedness. If only I could put my arms around her. If only I could feel her wet, hairy snatch. It was torture to have to watch without being able to participate.

"Now I'll repay you," Mike told Susan.

Susan knew what he meant. For one so young, she had managed to learn a lot. She lay down on the bed and opened wide for Mike. He clambered up on the bed, crouched between her legs, and bent his head to her open cunt.

In the instant before Mike's head blotted out my view of Susan's twat, I stared at it. Her beaver was so thick that it was difficult to see through it to the treasures beneath. I could see the lips of her cunt, barely outlined against the wet cunt hair.

Mike began to eat Susan's twat. The sight was too much for me. My hand moved down to my cunt and I began to finger my own hole, at the same time imagining myself in Mike's place, my tongue licking up the juices of that delicious looking snatch.

As I watched them, I got more and more carried away. My finger moved faster and faster. Then I removed it from my hole and began to stroke my clit, occasionally darting my finger inside to get some moisture to transfer to my clit.

Fortunately, Mike and Susan were so busy that Susan didn't hear the wet, smacking sounds of my finger on my clit and gash. Mike licked away at Susan's pussy, running his tongue in and out of her hole, up and down the smooth walls of her cunt.

Susan made unintelligible little sounds, but I knew their meaning. She enjoyed the way Mike was eating her snatch and she wanted more. Her hands tried to send Mike the same message. They pushed on his head and tried to pinion it between her legs.

At first, Mike's hands rested almost casually on Susan's flanks, but he soon decided to put them to work, too. While his tongue kept licking at her over-flowing hole, he moved one hand up ta her clit and massaged it. He moved his other hand beneath her and slipped one finger into her asshole.

Moving his finger slowly in her small bung, Mike penetrated deeper and deeper. Susan's muscles tightened on his finger and her body moved downward tentatively, as if she couldn't decide whether she wanted his efforts to concentrate on her cunt or on her ass.

She decided to give priority to her cunt. She lurched up off the bed, pushing her snatch in his face, rubbing her cunt-lips against his mouth, shoving that wet pussy at him for him to devour.

"Mike. It feels so good," she moaned.

Then suddenly, Susan leaped up off the bed, arching her body into the air. She went berserk, scratching at Mike's shoulders, screaming, yelling. The bed-springs creaked from the strain as she bounced up and down, throwing her gushing cunt at Mike's mouth.

The sight and sound of Susan's orgasm drove me to diddle my overheated cunt harder. I rubbed frantically at my own clit. Then, as waves of pleasure washed over me, I let myself go, sure that Susan's noisy climax would screen the sounds of my own orgasm.

I slumped to the floor and shoved two fingers of one hand into my cunt. With the other hand, I pushed my clit back and forth. Somehow, I stifled my screams and lay there quietly while I writhed against my own fingers.

I wished that I were with Susan. I comforted myself by the thought that in a few days, if everything worked out properly, I would be running my tongue in and out of Susan's sweet cunt.

My orgasm completed, I stood up shakily and went back to my spot at the door. I noticed with delight that Mike hadn't wasted any time. Before Susan's cunt had lost that wonderful, electric tingling, he had begun to fuck her.

Mike had raised Susan's legs high, lifting them and bending them back so that his weight rested on her thighs. He had done this partly for my benefit, I was sure. The position would give me the best view possible of Susan's cunt as his prick slammed into it. There were other advantages to this position. Mike had positioned Susan's cunt to allow his prick the maximum depth of penetration, more important, she could use this position to bring her cunt and leg muscles into play to give Mike a good ride.

Mike's cock had already spread the outer lips of Susan's twat. His thick cock had pulled the labes apart so that they gaped open invitingly. I wished I could move forward to lick off the glistening drops of juice on those dainty pussy-flaps. Somehow, I held myself back.

Mike entered her cunt carefully. He didn't know if she had been fucked by such a huge prick before. His cock went in one inch, then pulled out an inch, then went in two inches.

She urged him on. "Please, Mike! Give me your cock! Fuck me!" she yelled.

Mike still moved carefully. He didn't want her to find out painfully that his cock was more of a strain on her cunt that she had thought. It seemed to take forever for his cock to go all the way into her hole. Finally, it was in her cunt to the balls.

"It's in, it's in!" Susan yelled in triumph.

Now Mike put the prick to Susan as fast as she wanted. He rocketed in and out of her cunt, plunging his tool way in, then bringing it partway out, then plunging back in her sucking hole even harder than before. His bulk supported by Susan's upraised legs, Mike could fuck as fast as he wanted.

Susan drove up at him, pressing her cunt up against his cock.

"It feels good!" she shouted. "So good! So damn good!"

I smiled at the sound of her words, at the urgency of her monotonous refrain. I had to admit that Mike knew how to fuck a woman. Despite my near obsession with Susan, I felt my own desire for Mike's cock increase.

Mike and Susan thrashed about on the bed, the sounds of the bed-springs a pleasant cacophony to my ears. As I watched, I found my hand wandering back to my dripping cunt. I rubbed my clit, but the first twinge of pleasure was so strong that I withdrew my hand. I was afraid that if I came again, I might lose control and make much more noise that I had when I had climaxed a few minutes before.

I forced myself to tear my eyes away from the enticing fuck-scene on the bed. In a great triumph of will, I walked back to my room and got into bed. It took me a while to fall asleep. Then I slept fitfully. The dream came back to haunt me. It had changed slightly. I was still on the bed, the seductress again, but Susan, our Susan, was the girl standing at the door of the room. The dream ended as she began to lick my pussy!


I slept for a few hours, my dreams realistic enough to make me constantly position and reposition my body as if I were really getting my pussy lapped by Susan. When Mike got into bed, I awakened with a start.

"What was she like?" I asked. I was more curious than jealous at this stage, but I did feel a touch of anxiety over how Mike would react.

"She was just unbelievable," Mike told me. "You saw most of, I'm sure. Who would ever have thought an eighteen-year-old girl could know so much?"

"I saw most of it, but I didn't see it all," I told him. "I watched her suck your cock and I watched you eat her. Then I watched you fuck her. That was enough for me. I got too horny watching so I went to sleep."

"Do you want to hear about the rest?" Mike asked.

"Of course. Tell me everything."

As he began to narrate his story of the night's activities, Mike reached his fingers in between my legs and poked them into my wet gash. I gripped his sticky cock while he told me the story.

"The little bitch never got tired, at least until the very end," Mike said, admiration in his voice. "After we fucked, she looked up at me with that pretty smile of hers and asked if I was tired. I laughed, so she bent down and started sucking my cock again. She kept that up for a few minutes. Then she climbed on top of me and fucked me from on top. Right before I was about to shoot, I flipped her over on her back and fucked her from behind."

"Was that enough for her?"

"No way. I took a minute or two to recover from that one. She brought me around right away by kissing my balls. When I got a hard-on she climbed on top of me again, this time facing away from me. It was great to fuck her while I watched that ass of hers bounce up and down in front of me."

"Did she come again?" I asked.

"Yes, of course. She made sure we came together, too. While she bounced on my cock, she reached down with her hands and rubbed my shaft right near the base of my cock. Each time she moved up higher on my cock, her fingers caressed as much of my cock as she could touch. Pretty skillful for a kid!"

I felt a twinge of jealousy. I also felt a twinge of desire. My cunt began to throb. If Susan was so adept at heterosexual sex, maybe she was equally skillful at lesbian sex.

Mike's narrative had both upset and aroused me, but his caresses threw the balance in favor of the latter. His description of Susan hadn't been the only thing that had excited me. Mike's astonishing virility, as well as his finger in my cunt, had excited me, too. I would rather have been in bed with Susan, but I certainly didn't mind having Mike's cock there for the taking. I just hoped he had some energy left after balling Susan so many times. My renewed desire for his cock told me I probably wouldn't have any trouble coming when he fucked me.

Mike climbed on top of me and slammed his cock home. The night of voyeurism, finger-fucking, and fantasy had prepared me for him. My wet, slippery cunt let his big prick in easily.

Mike already knew I could handle his cock, so he wasn't as careful with me as he had been at first with Susan. He fucked me hard and unsparingly, giving me every inch of his dick on every stroke.

I reached up and pulled Mike's face down to my tits. His mouth sucked hungrily at my nipples while his cock moved in and out of my frothing hole.

I felt as if I were about to come. I didn't want to awaken Susan with my screams, so I clenched my teeth. Then I bit my lips, but a few low moans still escaped.

Mike matched his own pace to mine. As I came, his hot jizz erupted into my cunt. A yell of triumph came to my lips, but I held it back.

After, as we lay back on the bed, I noticed Mike looking at me.

"Comparing assets?" I asked.

"I'm not comparing as much as enjoying," he said.

I looked skeptical, but Mike reassured me. "I don't want to compare you with Susan. I'll enjoy both of you."

"Fine. Do whatever you want," I answered. I wasn't as confident as my words sounded.

"When do I get my turn with Susan?" I asked.

"I don't know," Mike said. "We'll have to proceed carefully. And ideas?"

I thought for a while and came up with an idea. "Tomorrow night we'll fuck. We won't shut the door. We'll be noisy. That'll leave it up to Susan. If she wants, she'll be able to watch. If she does watch the two of us ball, it'll be a start. She'll at least be getting accustomed to being around the two of us in a sexual situation. If we're lucky, when you and I finish, she may let you fuck her with me right there. If she's around me a lot, she'll be more relaxed with me. Maybe she might even get attracted to my body. If she's already a bisexual, it shouldn't be very hard at all from there."

"Sounds good," Mike said. "I'm sure she'll watch. We'll make sure her door is open so she'll hear." I drifted off to sleep and dreamed the dream once again. As before, Susan came to the bed, and as before, she ate my pussy. The dream ended short of its logical culmination. I didn't reach orgasm. Nor did I get to bury my own face in Susan's snatch. Nevertheless, I felt sure upon awakening that our plan would work. The dream had to be a favorable omen.

I spent the next day showing Susan around town. I pointed out a few historical sights and also showed Susan where some of our friends lived. I told her about the parties, seeing if she were interested.

"Usually men and women pair off and do things to each other," I told her. "Sometimes two women or two women and a man get together," I added.

"Sounds like fun," Susan said. She didn't even try to act innocent.

I didn't know whether it all sounded like fun to her or whether just some of it did. I realized that her reply was a good sign, however. Lesbianism didn't revolt her enough so that she wouldn't want to be present at the parties. It was at least possible that lesbianism even "sounded like fun" to her. I knew that I wouldn't be able to find out anything more in conversation, so I let things rest. Besides, my mind was really on the plan that Mike and I would implement that night. I dropped the subject of parties and spent the rest of the day showing her good places to shop and other innocuous local attractions.

That night, we put our plan into operation carefully. At dinner, I served champagne. I wanted to make sure that Susan would be relaxed and light-headed. That part of the plan worked well; by the end of dinner, Susan was high as a kite.

"We're going to turn in early tonight, Susan," I told her. "You can stay up and watch TV or read if you like."

"Thanks just the same, but I'm already pretty drunk," Susan replied. "I think I'll go to bed, too."

Mike and I hurried to our bedroom and initiated the next step in our plan. We undressed quickly and turned out the lights. Then I tip-toed to the door and opened it.

Mike moved quietly down the hall to check Susan's door. She had already turned off her lights. Mike opened her door partway and returned to our bedroom.

As loudly as I could, I told Mike what I wanted him to do.

"Lick my pussy, Mike. I want to feel your tongue inside me," I said.

Mike went down on me. He did so as noisily as possible, letting his tongue smack against the dripping lips of my cunt. Every few seconds, he loudly slurped up my cunt-juice.

"Mmmmmmm. That feels great," I moaned as loudly as possible. "Lick it! Lick my cunt! Ohhh! That's so gooood!" I wanted to be sure that Susan heard me.

I wasn't acting. Mike's tongue felt even better than usual. He didn't eat my cunt as well as Martha or Cynthia had done. It had to be something else that turned me on so much. Maybe it was Susan's presence in the house.

I raised the volume of my cries even high. "Ummmmm. Ohhhh, yes!" I groaned. By now I was approaching orgasm and the volume would have increased even if I hadn't tried to raise it.

As I came, I let loose a convulsive shriek: "AAGGGHHH! I'M COOMMIINNGGG!" I yelled.

As my come subsided, I looked at the door. I thought I saw the outline of Susan's head and shoulders as she peeked into the room. The sight of her made my cunt quiver anew. Fresh tremors of pleasure went through me, emanating from my cunt but spreading through my whole body.

I sank back on the bed and softly called to Susan.

"Susan, don't be shy. Please come in, dear."

At first, nothing happened. None of the shadows near the door moved. Then Mike added his invitation. "Come on, join us. We don't want to leave you out," he called.

An instant later, we saw a shadowy form move towards us. Susan seemed to have mixed feelings about joining us.

"Don't you mind?" she asked.

"Of course not," I answered.

"I didn't think you'd mind if I watched from the door, but I didn't expect you to invite me in," she said.

Mike reached out and grasped Susan's hand. He pulled her to the bed and pressed her down on the bed next to him. "We want you to feel like a member of the family," he said softly. Then he lifted off her nightgown.

I tried to see her body. It was difficult in the dim light, but I could make out the outlines of the mounds of her tits as well as her dark, hairy muff. Again, as I had wanted to do so many times in the past two days, I wanted to dive down to her pussy, to eat her cunt out thoroughly, as only one woman could eat another.

I wanted to see her, see all of her. "Do you mind if I turn on the light?" I asked.

"I guess not," Susan said. She was playing Miss Shy and Innocent again.

I turned on the light and took in the enticing scene before my eyes. Although Susan had seemed somewhat shy in conversation and somewhat reluctant to join us, she now made no effort to cover her nakedness.

I stared at her cunt, at that glorious hole covered with its forest of black hair. Despite my overwhelming urge to bury myself there, I kept control of myself. I lay there calmly on the bed, waiting for Mike to fuck me, anxious to see how Susan would behave. I had the feeling her veneer of shyness would disappear fast.

Mike mounted me. I grasped him with my legs and readied myself for his first thrust. I kept my eyes half-shut; I wanted to see what Susan was doing.

Mike rammed his cock into my cunt hard. He pulled it out leisurely, then shoved it back in. It felt good going in, especially when it was in my hole to the balls, Mike's bush rubbing against mine, his cock stretching my cunt to the fullest.

I pushed Mike away. "Let's try another position," I whispered. Then I climbed on top of him and lowered my cunt onto his cock.

I hadn't chosen the woman-astride position by accident. I wanted Susan to see me clearly, to see the beauty of my cunt and the rest of my body.

As I humped on Mike's prick, I used all the tricks I knew to show. Susan how much potential for imagination there was in the human act of fucking. I bent backwards, bending Mike's cock nearly double. Then I rocked from side to side, twisting his cock, using my pussy to massage every inch of his prick. As I hunched up and down, my hands caressed his balls, as if I were riding a horse and his balls were the saddle-horn.

I wanted Susan to see all that I had to offer. I lifted myself off Mike's cock, then turned around so that my ass faced Mike and Susan.

I looked over my shoulder to glance at Susan. She watched wide-eyed, as she had been doing since we had begun screwing. She absentmindedly stroked her cunt, as I had done the night before. One finger disappeared inside her hole and her hand rocked gently back and forth, matching the rhythm of our fucking.

Mike's cock felt good inside my snatch, but Susan's presence in the room added to my excitement. It didn't take Mike long to bring me to orgasm. When I climaxed, I bounced more and more rapidly, impaling my heated box on Mike's jabbing tool. I shook and trembled, my body spasming out of control, my cunt muscles clenching Mike's cock like a vise, then relaxing, then squeezing shut on it again.

I plunged down so hard that I thought Mike's cock would reach up to my throat. His big rod stuffed into my cunt spread my legs wide apart; I was sure that Susan could see my little asshole winking a few inches from my cunt.

When I had completed my orgasm, I twisted around to look at Susan. By now, she was oblivious to anything but her own finger and cunt. Her hand had ceased its rapid movements. Now it was motionless, buried deep in her cunt.

As I watched Susan, I felt Mike shoot inside me. He pumped my cunt full of his jism, grunted with satisfaction, then laughed with surprise as he opened his eyes and saw what Susan was doing.

"Hey, Susan. Let me help you," he said.

Suddenly, Susan opened her eyes and looked with surprise at Mike and me. We both laughed and she got up to leave.

"Don't go, Susan," I said soothingly. "It makes us feel as if you appreciated us. You shouldn't be embarrassed."

Susan didn't seem convinced. She did sit back down on the bed, but she tried to look away from Mike and me. Her embarrassment seemed genuine this time.

I tried to make her feel better. "Cheer up, honey. It's something every woman has to do for herself every now and then. It's hard to watch other without getting carried away."

Susan smiled, a saucy, provocative smile. "I guess you're right. I did enjoy watching. That's why I got so carried away. I guess there's nothing wrong with that."

"Let me finish it for you," Mike said. He reached out and put one finger into Susan's cunt-hole.

Susan moaned softly and rotated against his finger. "I need it. I really do," she sighed. Then she looked at me worriedly. "Don't you mind, Lori?" she asked.

"Of course not," I told her. "I know all about the other night."

"That's a relief," Susan said. "I was worried you might be jealous."

"Oh, no. Not at all," I said, although I knew I wasn't exactly telling the truth.

"Try to relax and enjoy it," I suggested.

Susan did just that. She closed her eyes and lay back on the bed, her legs spread slightly to make it easier for Mike to finger her cunt.

How I wanted to replace him! I wanted my finger to be going in and out of her pussy. I could see every inch of her body. I was so close that I could have reached out and embraced her. Yet it wasn't time for me to touch her. Not yet.

Susan had been close to orgasm when we startled her. Her mortification at getting caught hadn't set her back much. After Mike had stroked her cunt for only a minute or so, she climaxed. Her breathing grew labored, she started to moan and cry out with the pleasure of it all. Then one sharp cry of ecstasy and it was over for her.

"Thank you," she panted. "I appreciate your generosity in sharing him with me."

"That's perfectly all right," I told her.

I was afraid that if Susan stayed on our bed for much longer, I wouldn't be able to wait. "Why not go on to bed, dear?" I suggested. "You don't want to tire yourself out."

Susan was ready to leave. This time I don't think all her apparent innocence had been faked. She had probably been a little uncomfortable on the bed with us. I decided that she must have expected us to be one of those couples where the wife needed a substitute, where the husband couldn't get enough satisfaction from his wife, so another woman had to help out. I decided that Susan hadn't expected a situation where the wife would involve herself, even as a spectator. Mike had been wise to suggest caution before we confronted her with my lesbian needs. If it took Susan some time to get used to me as a spectator, she probably wouldn't be too comfortable when I first shoved my tongue in her snatch.

After Susan had left our bedroom, Mike and I discussed the evening's events and their implications for our future actions. We both felt fairly optimistic about the future.

"Did you see how she stared at your cunt?" Mike asked me.

"I think it was your cock she was staring at," I told him.

"No. I think it was your cunt," Mike insisted.

I wasn't sure. I hoped Mike was right. If he was, it meant that she either had lesbian experience or that I was getting her interested in me.

The latter turned out to be true. If Susan had been an experienced lesbian, it would have been easy to seduce her, but I doubt if it would have been as pleasurable as the excitement of teaching someone something new, just as I had so recently been taught by Martha.

Intuitively, I had sensed her inexperience and had proceeded cautiously. Mike wasn't as careful and wanted us to rush ahead. He seemed to have forgotten that he had been the one who had counseled caution in the first place.

"Why did you send her back to her room so early?" Mike asked.

"I didn't realize she was showing any interest in me. I was afraid that I couldn't hold back if she stayed on that bed with us one second more. I would have lost control."

"Christ, Lori. I didn't realize you needed women that bad," Mike said. He sounded a little jealous again.

I decided to ignore his remark. The important thing now was to plan ahead so the I would soon be embracing Susan. I knew that Mike wanted to see Susan and me with our arms around each other, our tongues in each other's pussies, our legs around each other's heads. He would cooperate in any planning and in the implementation of those plans. Once the plans had been carried out, then I'd worry about his jealousy.

I thought hard. I didn't want to go too far, too fast. But I didn't want to delay needlessly either.

Finally, an idea came to me. "Let's get out of here for a weekend," I suggested. "We can go to the beach and use Barry's cottage there. It only has one room, with two beds."

"Sounds good, Lori. How do we go about it once we're there?"

"You and I will start having sex, noisy, like tonight. Susan's bed won't be far away. She'll come close to watch. You keep eating me and start fucking her. Then, before you come, you pull out of her and start fucking me."

"What next?"

"She'll move in front of your face and you'll start eating her. Then comes the crucial moment. I'll be beneath you. After you lick Susan's cunt for a few minutes, I'll replace you. I'll have been right there next to her cunt the whole time so it'll be easy. I'll start licking her cunt and even if she discovers the switch, it'll feel too good for her to want me to stop."

"Sounds good," Mike said. "I can't see how it can fail, unless she tries to stop you when you start licking her snatch."

"She won't," I told him. I didn't tell him that Susan would find it impossible to stop once she felt the unbelievable pleasure that another woman could give to her pussy. It would work and, by the end of the weekend, we would be having three-way sex.

I didn't dream of three-way sex, of course. I dreamed of Susan and I locked together, eating each other's pussies to our hearts content. The dream had changed; I just prayed that reality progressed as far as my fantasy had progressed.


The next day, Friday, we left for the beach. We arrived late in the afternoon. The weather was chilly for late spring. The beach was deserted and the wind blew briskly off the water. Inside the cottage, we were still very aware of nature and its power. The wind whistled through the eaves of the cottage and rattled the windows. We could hear the surf slamming into the beach, as if a storm far off shore was driving the water at the land.

The cottage was small, but comfortable. It had one very cozy room with a sofa, some chairs, and two beds, and a tiny kitchen. A large picture window looked out on the ocean.

I was ready to try our plan. "We're all tired from the drive. Let's take a nap," I suggested. I didn't want to wait until night.

Mike caught on. "That's a great idea," he agreed.

Mike and I undressed while Susan sat on her bed and looked out the window at the sea. She still hadn't conquered her adolescent shyness to the point where she could openly show interest in our bodies. Despite her efforts to distract herself, however, her eyes kept wandering to us.

Mike and I got into bed and pulled a sheet halfway over us. Meanwhile, Susan opened her suitcase. She took out a nightgown, went into the bathroom to put it on, and emerged, scantily clad.

I watched Susan's every move. I focused my eyes on her, noting the smooth, spherical perfection of her ass and the enticing smoothness of her thighs. I imagined my tongue moving from Susan's pussy back to her asshole, then to her pussy again.

Susan walked over to the window and gazed out at the stormy ocean. It was dusk and the fading light silhouetted her against the window. Her tits stood out distinctly in the dim light, the two big mounds clearly visible through her gown.

Now it was time to begin. I threw the sheet down to the foot of the bed. Then I rolled over on my back and spread my legs.

This time Mike played the game, too. "Open up wide for me, Lori," he said loudly.

I kept up the game. "Oh, Mike. Stick it in. I want you," I purred. I decided I wanted his cock first, not his tongue.

As Mike's cock penetrated my cunt, he provided a running commentary for Susan's benefit. "It's going in," he said. "I feel that wet hole of yours." He didn't mind departing slightly from our plan.

"I'm going to fuck you hard now," Mike announced. Then he began to do as he said, ramming his cock in and out of my hale.

Our erotic conversation and frantic fucking was too much for Susan. She walked over and stood next to the bed. Mike ignored her and kept fucking me, content to let Susan's desire reach its peak.

Finally, Mike reached up and pulled Susan down to him. He slid her nightgown over her head, then pressed her flat on the bed near our heads. Then he started eating her cunt while he kept fucking me. Now we were back to our initial plan.

I had welcomed the entrance of Mike's cock, but I felt even better when I could look up to see Mike eating Susan's cunt just a few inches above my face.

Mike got Susan really worked up. After a few seconds, juice had begun to pour from her twat, a few drops dripping down to my face. I licked up the drops I could reach with my tongue.

The taste of Susan's nectar was so good that it drove me to the next phase of our plan. I tapped Mike on the leg insistently. He understood what I wanted. He withdrew his head from between Susan's legs and, in the same motion, pushed her down a few inches towards me.

The long-awaited moment had arrived. Eagerly, I pushed my lips against Susan's cunt. Susan's twat was soft, oh so soft. It quivered against my mouth, the soft labes trembling against my mouth.

I shoved my tongue into her smooth-walled cunt as far as it could reach. Then I withdrew it and went to work on her clit. Her clit was a small bud, the shaft slender and slippery, the glans at the top slightly swollen. I used the tip of my tongue to rub against the shaft of her clit, then pressed hard on the glans with my whole tongue.

Susan was oblivious to the switch. She had no idea that I was licking her twat. Her eyes were closed tightly and she made no effort to open them.

"That is so good, sooo good," she groaned as I massaged her clit.

I put all my skill into eating her cunt. That Mike was still fucking me increased my excitement, but I think that merely eating Susan's cunt would have been enough to make me come, even without Mike shoving his cock into my box. As my own passion increased, I worked avidly to bring Susan to orgasm.

I took her clit between my teeth and nibbled very, very gently on it. Then I sucked softly. The intense pleasure from that suction led Susan to open her eyes wide. She looked down and saw me eating her twat. She gave a small, shrill yell of surprise when she saw my blonde head buried between her legs.

"Lori, what are you doing?" she asked.

"That's a silly question," I answered.

Susan started to protest, but then a combination of events stopped her. I sucked again on her clit and there was no way that she could argue with me while I was providing her with such a wonderful sensation. At the same time, Mike pulled his cock all the way out of my cunt and slammed it back in. I moaned with pleasure. My apparent enjoyment made it difficult for Susan to distract me with argument.

I maintained the suction on Susan's clit. She closed her eyes and stopped protesting. The plan had worked. I resumed my effort to bring her to orgasm.

Susan came first. She screamed out her pleasure and her body went rigid. I started licking at her clit again, sending her quickly to the high point of her orgasm.

I began to come, too. I strained up at Mike, wanting all of his cock, while my tongue continued to ravish Susan's clit. All that remained now was for Mike to join us.

That didn't take long. He lurched down against me and shot. His spunk overflowed my cunt as it usually did. I could feel the hot, sticky jizz dripping down my thighs to the bed.

The triple orgasm completed, Susan stood up and looked at us angrily. "That was a sneaky trick," she said, her face livid with anger.

I hadn't expected such an outburst. If Susan had gone through a lesbian experience before, she had no reason at all to get mad. If she hadn't, but had enjoyed this one, then why should she get angry, especially if she hadn't tried very hard to stop it before she came.

"Didn't you enjoy it?" I asked.

"No," Susan said. "I've never had a woman touch me before."

Mike and I laughed. Susan couldn't help herself. She laughed, too, and the tension melted away. "I did enjoy it," she admitted.

I had to remind myself that her quick changes from one extreme of emotion to the other were the result of her inexperience. At the same time she was both relatively innocent and a lusty young bitch in heat. She had often been truly reluctant, especially when I was in any way involved, either as spectator or participant, but she had little reluctance when she was with Mike alone. Nevertheless, although her hesitancy was often exasperating, I was relieved that her lust invariably triumphed. In fact, I had to admit that I found her vestiges of innocence slightly appealing.

I had been right about her inexperience with lesbianism. Fortunately, we had followed a cautious plan. Mike's first instincts had been correct, too, but luckily I had talked him out of his later plan to try a more direct course.

Susan started to get up. She took one step away from the bed, but Mike's voice stopped her.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Back to my bed. I enjoyed that, I really did," she admitted. "But I want to give you two some privacy," she answered. Again, shyness had dominated over lust.

Mike smiled. "Who wants privacy?" he asked.

Just then a heavy gust of wind rattled the windows extremely hard. The sun had gone down a moment before. Susan shivered and walked back to our warm bed. Again, her desires had triumphed over her shyness.

I welcomed Susan back to our bed. I wanted to reassure her, convince her that we needed her and wanted her. I ran my hands over the smooth flesh of her butt-cheeks. Then I slipped one hand underneath her and let it tickle her asshole. Susan wiggled as if she wanted to get away. Then she thought better of it and pressed herself down against my finger.

Mike grabbed my head and pulled it down to his prick. I began to suck on his cock, stretching my lips wide to accept his huge tool. I could taste my own cunt-juice on his prick.

Now we had nearly completed the triangle. I reached out and pushed Susan's head down to my pussy. Susan had never eaten pussy before. At first, her tongue probed hesitantly. After a few seconds, however, she began to lick my gash enthusiastically.

Anxious to complete the triangle, Mike grabbed Susan's thighs. He pulled her close and began munching on her cunt. Now we had achieved it -- three-way sex as it should be -- a mutually satisfying arrangement in which all three were giving and getting pleasure.

I had been waiting for days to feel Susan's mouth on my twat. There was something unbelievably erotic about the feel of her soft tongue on my cunt. Part of it was the tenderness with which she ate me, part of it the knowledge that she had never done it before. She didn't merely lick my cunt, she explored it. Her tongue probed every crevice, every recess of my hole. I started to come.

I tried to hold back, but it was impossible. I had been awaiting this moment for too long. I could only hope that Mike was too busy licking Susan's cunt and having his cock sucked for him to notice. There was no way that I could restrain myself.

My cunt overflowed with pussy-juice and my muscles squeezed Susan's tongue. I writhed back and forth, rubbing my gushing cunt against her face. Susan knew I was coming; there was no way she could have missed the signs. Instinctively, for I gave her no instructions, Susan moved to my clit. She tongued it gently at first, then harder and harder as my orgasm increased in intensity. Somehow, with no experience, she had acquired the skill of an experienced lesbian lover.

Susan reached orgasm soon after I did. As she came, she redoubled her efforts on my cunt. I worked even harder on Mike's cock as my come continued.

Encouraged by the two wild women around him, Mike shot a huge wad of jizz into my mouth. I tried to swallow it and choked slightly. Then I managed to gulp it down, at least most of it.

Cum running down my chin, I let Mike's prick slip out of my mouth. This had already been quite a weekend, I thought to myself. We had only been there two hours and our plan had worked!

This time, Susan didn't try to return to her own bed. She snuggled in between Mike and me. There was plenty of room in the bed, but a lot of it went to waste. The three of us slept very close together. Susan and I faced each other and slept with our arms around each other's bodies, our tits pressed together, our lips almost touching. Mike faced Susan's back. His arms reached around both of us, binding the three of us together.

It took me a while to fall asleep. Susan dozed immediately. I stayed awake savoring the feel of her body against mine. In the dim light, I could see her black beaver and her beautiful tits, the nipples pressed up against my own. I felt like waking her for hours more of uninterrupted sex, but I decided to let her rest. The car trip had been a long one. I wanted her to regain her energy for the rest of the weekend.

I finally napped for an hour or so. I didn't dream at all, or so it seemed. I'm sure that I didn't have the dream again.

When I awakened, Susan's body was pressed even closer to mine, her head resting on my shoulder, her warm breath on my cheek.

I reached my hand down to her twat and gently, very gently, tickled her clit. She moaned in her sleep.

"Mmmmmmm," she moaned, still asleep.

I moved my finger back and forth a little harder.

"Ohhhh, that feels good," she said sleepily. Her eyes opened.

I fingered her clit more rapidly.

"Lori, that feels great," she panted in my ear.

Is there such a thing as too much of a good thing? At the time, I didn't think so. I still feel that way. There could never be too much of Susan, her delicious snatch and her probing, exploring tongue.

I pushed her face down to my pussy again. We bounced around as we shifted positions and Susan shrugged off Mike's arms.

Not surprisingly, Mike awakened. "Couldn't wait, could you, girls?" he said, his voice betraying a little bit of cynical and scornful resentment.

We didn't even answer him. I kept fingering Susan's clit while she munched on my pussy. It was a delightful position and one that we would enjoy with slight modifications and with the frequent addition of Mike, for most of the weekend.

As adeptly as she had done before, Susan used her tongue to drive me wild. She found the most sensitive part of my clit and softly, ever so softly, tongued it. Meanwhile, I kept my finger in her hole, but bent down to use my own tongue on her tender clit.

The dream had indeed been an omen of good things to come. No position could have been as satisfying as that one, Susan's mouth working avidly on my cunt, my own tongue darting out to flick daintily, but steadily, at her clit.

Mike's resentment must have been building up, but he kept his anger from boiling over. I opened my eyes once to glance up at him. He had a hard-on, so I knew that his own arousal at the sight of our mutual cunt-lapping would cool his anger.

The orgasms I enjoyed with Susan that weekend were the best of my life. The first one had been tremendous, but the second was even better. My nerve endings felt so sensitive, so aware of each slight variation in the pressure she put on my clitoris.

As I approached orgasm, I felt as if my whole body were a cunt, as if Susan were devouring all of me at once. When the orgasm finally arrived, this sense of totality continued. The climax was not confined to my cunt. Instead, my whole body achieved that beautiful feeling, that heaven, that peak of passion. The usual signs were there: a blinding flash, my body thrashing about, my muscles tensing, screams escaping my lips, sounds bubbling out through the mouthful of juicy pussy between my lips. But there was something more, a feeling of well-being that came over me, a glow that suffused my body, my entire body, as I came.

I wanted to give Susan the best orgasm of her life, just as she was doing for me. I tried everything I knew. I sucked on her clit, increasing the suction as my own orgasm hit me harder and harder. I fingered her cunt, too, rubbing up and down against those smooth, wet walls.

Susan's orgasm began before mine had finished, before that wonderful glow had left me. She threw her twat at me and I felt her clit swell against my tongue. I lapped up her dew as it gushed from her spasming hole.

When we had finally finished, Mike looked at us and laughed, a laugh of bitterness, not mirth.

"I guess I'm sort of the extra person around here," he said.

In a way, he was right. I had been deriving most of my satisfaction from Susan. I had climaxed while Mike fucked me, but my mouth in Susan's snatch had stimulated me at least as much as his cock in my cunt. Moreover, my orgasm when Susan had eaten my pussy was far more powerful than my orgasm with Mike's cock inside me. Yet Mike wasn't superfluous. I wanted Susan more than I wanted him, but I did want him and I was sure that Susan did, too. His cock still had a lot of potential for satisfying me, if not as much potential as Susan's soft tongue.

I expected Mike to lose his temper completely, to insist that we return home or at least that Susan and I stay away from each other. Fortunately, he didn't blow up. I guess he could still attribute the intensity of my orgasm with Susan to the novelty of my experience with lesbianism and of my contact with Susan. He was able to tell himself that my preference for Susan was temporary and only that conviction kept him from losing control of himself.

"Oh, Mike. That's not true," I told him, but he looked very skeptical.

This was no time for setting up complex three-way positions. Obviously, it wasn't a time for me to continue ignoring Mike in favor of Susan. It was time for me to act as if it was Mike that I wanted. I knew I couldn't undo all the damage already done, but I felt sure that I could at least lessen his anger.

I dove down to his cock and took it into my mouth. I was determined to give him the best blow-job he had ever received. Susan, with her sensitivity to other's feelings, the same sensitivity that had made her a good lesbian lover so quickly, bent her head down to help. She knew as well as I did that Mike needed attention.

I sucked on his cock, tightening my lips and moving my mouth up and down like a tight cunt. Meanwhile, Susan licked at his balls and at the base of his cock. I was afraid that her mouth would move up the shaft and be near my mouth. If our lips touched, Mike would be upset. Susan was too sensitive for that, too considerate of Mike's feelings. She stayed around the base, then moved back down to Mike's balls. Her head dropped lower and lower. I couldn't see exactly what she was doing, but from Mike's increasingly hard cock, now rocklike in my mouth, I guessed that she was reaming out his asshole.

I would have liked to shove a few fingers up Susan's cunt or ass, but I didn't. I didn't want to do anything to indicate to Mike that he wasn't my number-one concern at the moment.

I let Mike's wet prick slide out of my mouth. Then I rubbed my tongue on the underside of the shaft, right where the shaft meets the knob. Next I flicked my tongue at the small hole at the end of his cock. It was already moist with pre-cum, that thin fluid that preceded his thicker seed out of his balls and up through his cock.

Susan still worked on his asshole, her tongue making soft, wet sounds as it smacked against his flesh. I found it erotic to have Susan so close, her face a few inches from mine, her body close enough for me to touch if I hadn't been afraid to do so. I had to admit, however, that I also found it erotic to have Mike's enormous prick in my mouth. It was so thick and so long that I couldn't help but be aroused by it and the virility it promised.

I resumed sucking on his cock, trying to pull the cum up out of his balls and into my mouth. Mike didn't keep me waiting long. I felt a few drops hit my tongue. I swallowed them. The Mike grunted with pleasure and satisfaction as he shot a full load of jizz into my mouth. I struggled, swallowed most of it, and let the excess drip down my lips to my chin and then to my tits. Throughout, Susan kept licking at Mike's asshole.

"That felt good, girls," Mike told us, smiling contentedly.

I was sure that he was still a little angry, but we had at least taken some of the edge from it. I was sure that I would hear later about my behavior and just as sure that we would have serious problems, but I was relieved that at least for the moment the tension had decreased. I didn't want anything to threaten our weekend. Whatever happened later, well... it would happen. For now, I just wanted to enjoy what promised to be one of the most blissful weekends of my life.

The weekend turned out better than I had expected and I had been expecting something pretty good. It was sensational! Our only interruptions were for meals and sleep. We spent the entire weekend in various triangles and occasional duos. Whenever Mike seemed anxious or resentful, Susan and I devoted a lot of attention to him and pretended that we weren't more strongly drawn to each other.

The beach was deserted so early in the season. We didn't let it go to waste. We fucked and sucked on the open beach, letting the waves set the rhythm. We fucked and sucked in the dunes, the three of us drawn together by our isolation, out of the wind, but still aware of the overwhelming power of nature around us.

This power of nature must have communicated itself to us. We were tireless. I had never engaged in so much sexual activity in so short a time. Nor had I ever enjoyed it more.

By the end of the weekend, Mike's cock had been rubbed raw by repeated trips into Susan's and my mouths, asses, and cunts. All our holes were sore from his and our own frequent invasions. Nevertheless, it was a delicious pain, one that served to remind us of our earlier ecstasy. If only that weekend could have gone on forever.

On Sunday afternoon, we reluctantly packed up and began the long drive back. Fatigue and pain didn't bother us. We were still emotionally high from the excitement of our orgiastic weekend. We looked back on what we had so recently enjoyed, rather than forward to the long drive home and the problems that might await us there, away from the worry-purging atmosphere of the beach and the waves.


It was a long drive back and, at first, it was uneventful. Only as we drew close to home did problems develop. Those problems were to bring us down quickly from the high we had felt only shortly before.

As our fatigue began to really bit us, we grew more irritable. Mike honked his horn at other drivers, often without any reason. Susan and I constantly bothered him by asking when we would get home. By the time we were an hour from home, we were all at each other's throats, especially Mike and I.

"Maybe I should drop you off that the house and look for another place to live," Mike said nastily.

"What brought about that brilliant suggestion?" I asked.

"All weekend, I was like someone extra, someone who just happened to be there, but who you didn't really need," Mike said. "You both got more excited with each other than you did with me," he added.

"Oh, Mike. That's not true," I said. "I'd rather be with you than anyone."

"You're full of shit!" he yelled. "You'd rather be with Susan, let's face it."

Susan tried to make peace. "Come on, Mike and Lori. Please."

We ignored her and kept squabbling.

"Please stop arguing," Susan said pleadingly.

Then she decided to try another approach. She was sitting between Mike and I. She leaned over close to Mike and kissed him on the cheek. Then she rested her head on his shoulder. I'm sure her intentions were good. She merely wanted to calm him down. He had been the aggressor for most of the argument. Nevertheless, I lost my temper completely. Now I was the jealous one.

"Why don't you two drop me off somewhere," I said. "You don't seem to need me." Mike hadn't shown any real preference for Susan before, but my tired mind imagined that he had. My jealousy was unjustified but real.

Mike decided to make me angrier. "Where do you want to go?" he asked. I knew he wouldn't do it, but I got madder anyhow.

"Drop me at Martha's. Or Karen's!" I shouted. I knew that would make him madder.

"You fucking dyke!" he yelled back. "You'll be happy with your head buried in some Goddamn furry snatch."

Susan still tried to play peacemaker. She moved away from Mike and moved closer to me. She patted me on the shoulder, but I moved away.

"Lori, don't be jealous of me," she said softly. "I love you both. If you keep fighting over me, I'll have to leave. I can't stand being around jealousy."

That stopped us cold. Mike and I couldn't bear the thought of losing Susan at this point. Our anger disappeared and was replaced by an uneasy fear.

We were silent for the rest of the trip. No one seemed angry and we didn't talk at all about jealousy. Yet a pall hung over us. We all knew that the argument would flare up again, if not as wildly as tonight, but still bitterly enough to make Susan uncomfortable and to endanger our triangle.

The trip had ended with our argument over, each of us trying to be cordial. None of us had forgotten the harsh words, the hurt they had brought, the insecurity, the doubt. The pain was there. Unfortunately, while the pain remained, Mike and I didn't long remember Susan's warning.

The day after we had returned from the beach, Susan tested us to see if we had really listened to her.

"I'd like to go to one of those parties you told me about," she said.

We were both upset at the thought of sharing our new-found prize with our friends. We would have taken her to one of the parties eventually, but her suggestion had come so closely on the heels of our first three-way experience with her that we weren't prepared to share her at all.

Surprised by her suggestion, I lost my cool. "Aren't you satisfied with us?" I asked, hurt in my voice.

"Yeah, what's wrong with us?" Mike asked.

We were both too obtuse to realize that our jealousy would drive her away from us. Sharing her wouldn't have made her like us any less, but denying her the experience because of our jealousy would make her hate us. And it did.

"Nothing's wrong with you two," she told us, exasperation in her voice. "The parties sound like fun. I'd like to go."

"What's the rush?" Mike asked.

"I'm just in the mood, that's all," she answered. "Why are you so damn jealous? You and Mike go the parties and it hasn't seemed to have hurt your relationship at all."

Susan had put me on the spot. I couldn't admit that the parties, at least lately, had hurt my relationship with Mike. I couldn't tell her that the parties had made me enjoy Mike less. I pretty much had to agree now that she should go to the party.

"All right, Susan," I grudgingly conceded. "There's a party the night after next. You're welcome to go with us."

Susan smiled, but it was an uneasy smile. I knew our resistance and our jealousy had annoyed her. I didn't realize until we got to the party exactly how much it had annoyed her. Before she even went to the party, she had decided to leave us, but to teach us a terrible lesson, one we had failed to learn earlier, before she left.

For the two days before the party, there was an uneasy quiet around the house. Mike and I both felt envious, jealous of those who would get to ravish Susan's lovely young body at the party. We felt she should have been ours alone to enjoy. After all, we had found her. I had converted her to the joys of bisexuality.

The night of the party, our jealousy almost overcame our reluctance to start an argument with Susan. Mike and I were waiting in the living room while Susan finished getting dressed for the party. We talked calmly to each other while we waited, but we were both nervous and uncomfortable.

Suddenly, Mike's eyes widened. "Jesus Christ," he said, looking up at the doorway as he spoke.

Susan stood there, dressed to kill. She was really ready to party. She wore a clinging gown that hugged every curvy inch of her ripe young body. I could see her nipples outlined clearly against the fabric. I could even see the outline of her cunt mount and its hairy shrubbery pushing up against the tight dress.

The dress was cut so low in front that it barely covered those large nipples of hers. Her big tits hung out of the dress, almost daring someone to bury his or her head in that incredible cleavage. In contrast to her provocative outfit, she smiled that innocent, little-girl smile, the one that had almost fooled us when she had come to live with us. She was a beautiful sight, an alluring sight, and I knew that there was no way to keep our friends from stampeding in their rush to make her.

"You really went all out," Mike said, his voice harsh, his tone bitter.

"I wanted to look nice, of course," Susan said, looking hurt and a little surprised. "Don't you like my dress?" she asked.

"Sure. Everyone else will like it too. You can bet on that," Mike said.

"What's wrong with that?" Susan asked.

"Nothing," Mike said, but his expression showed the anger he felt. Something was wrong, at least to Mike and me, and it was obvious what was wrong. We were both jealous, just the emotion that we could least afford to display.

"Oh, shit. You two are getting to be a pain in the ass," Susan said angrily. "Well, let's go."

We all got in the car and drove to Cynthia and Jimmy's house. They were having the party, the first one we had attended at their house. The black couple had only recently joined our group.

The ride over was uncomfortable. None of us spoke. We all knew something bad was going to happen, but none of us knew precisely what.

Only as we approached Jimmy and Cynthia's house did I begin to think more positively about the party and wonder what it would be like for Mike and me. We had never been to a black person's house before, for a wild party or for any other occasion. I didn't know what to expect.

As we pulled up to their house, I noticed that the house wasn't much different from ours, at least on the outside. It was a little smaller, perhaps, but still fairly large, with a nice lawn and quite a few trees. It was in a mixed neighborhood and looked pretty much like the other houses around it.

Cynthia and Jimmy greeted us at the door. "Hey, folks. Let's not jive out here," Jimmy said as he ushered us inside. Then his eyes lit on Susan.

"What have we here?" he said. He walked around us and took Susan by the arm.

"I'm Susan Knight," she said quietly. "I'm living with Lori and Mike," she told him.

"Well, well, well. Nice to have you with us," Jimmy said, his eyes roaming over her body as he spoke. "Come right in and join the fun."

I looked over at Cynthia. Her eyes were flashing with anger. Just like us, that beautiful black woman felt threatened by Susan. Susan was so incredibly beautiful, teen-age sexuality personified, that it would have been a rare person who didn't feel threatened by her mere presence. Until Susan's arrival, jealousy had little place at our parties, but her magnetic sexuality had taken care of that.

I had been afraid everyone would rush at Susan in their anxiety to be the first to have her, but our party crowd was too cool for that. They noticed her, of course, and her presence affected them. Everyone stared at her openly. There was a slight hush at first, then the murmurs of conversation seemed more excited than before, but there was no stampede.

Jimmy stayed close to Susan. Obviously, he had picked her out for himself. He kept one arm around her shoulders while he guided her around the room to introduce her to all the guests.

For a few minutes, I watched Susan and Jimmy, jealousy burning within me. Then I decided to try to enjoy myself the best I could. I looked around at their house and at the crowd, trying to figure out what sort of evening it would be.

The house surprised me. Jimmy and Cynthia didn't seem militant. Sexually, they seemed to enjoy fucking and sucking with white people.

There had been some cruelty in the way Jimmy had tormented Karen while fucking her a few weeks before. At the last party we had attended, for no reason, Cynthia called me a bitch while we were in the middle of eating each other's cunts. They had hinted at some resentment of whites, but it had all been vague, indistinct, only implicitly there, hinted at, but not made explicit.

Their house made me wonder how they really felt. On the walls of their living room were pictures of the most militant of the black leaders. On their bookshelves were all the volumes that made up the library of black revolution. It was all there, books about separatism, oppression, riot, revolution. Yet these two blacks obviously enjoyed getting it on with white men and women. I couldn't figure it out, but somehow their militancy made them all the more attractive and, in Jimmy's case, at least, all the more of a threat. If he was hostile to whites, he would think nothing of making us suffer. The obvious way to make Mike and me suffer was to interfere with our relationship with Susan. I shivered and felt a sense of foreboding, of doom.

Jimmy had begun to undress Susan and everyone had crowded in close to watch. Slowly, ever so slowly, he unzipped her dress. It was as if he were emphasizing to the rest of us that he was in control, that this prize was his and that everyone else could see her only when he was ready for them to see her. He could have told her to strip. Or he could have ripped her clothes off. It was significant, I thought, that he undressed her leisurely himself.

When he had finally unzipped Susan's dress, Jimmy reached one hand inside and caressed her big tits. Again, he was demonstrating his mastery. Everyone expected him to pull her dress down, to show her naked body to us, but he showed us all that he could and would do as he pleased.

Susan moaned softly and tried to move her body against him. He stepped back slightly and continued to rub her tits. Then he moved closer to her, unzipped his fly, and took out his ebony prick. Susan looked down at his erect dong and her tongue played suggestively across her lips. Then she grabbed his rod with both hands and began to rub it, softly at first, then more vigorously.

We all watched, transfixed and envious, although I'm sure Mike and I were more envious than anyone else there because we felt that Susan was rightly ours. We didn't realize that our possessiveness was the catalyst that had changed her feelings about us, that had sent her to others.

Jimmy was ready to undress her completely now. He pulled her dress off her shoulders. He kissed each shoulder lightly, then pulled the dress down to her waist, letting her tits loose from the confines of her dress. Most men would have been on them immediately, feeling them, kissing them, rubbing their cheeks against the smooth flesh of her cleavage, but Jimmy was different. He had too much control, too much sense of drama for that, and probably, too much of a need to torture the rest of us, to leave us standing there waiting in an agony of expectation to see what he would do next.

He stared at her tits while she continued to rub his big black cock. She must have expected him to be on them already because she opened her eyes. She looked at him standing motionless in front of her, staring at her boobs. Her nipples got hard and erect from the sight of him staring at her so coolly and from the feel of his erect prick in her hands. He hadn't even touched her nipples, but they poked out like little fingertips from her ripe jugs.

Mike and I watched silently, our frustration and jealousy burning inside us. Jimmy was torturing us, making us suffer, and he was enjoying it. Susan's acquiescence increased our pain.

He proceeded in his slow disrobing of Susan. He pulled her dress down to her hips, then lower and lower, until her beaver came into view, first the top of her bush, the first dark, curly hairs, then the full thicket.

Now the dress was below her naked cunt. Just like the little slut not to wear panties, I thought to myself. I missed the irony of it. I hadn't worn anything at all under my coat at one party. And I hadn't worn panties when Martha had visited me.

Susan continued to rub on Jimmy's dark, menacing rod. His cock was long enough and thick enough to keep both her hands busy. Her white fingers contrasted sharply with the black flesh of his tool.

Jimmy pulled her dress down to her knees. "Take it all the way off," he commanded.

Susan did as he ordered. She was naked now, totally, alluringly, breathtakingly naked. Every eye in the room was on her. She didn't seem to mind the attention. What had happened to the shy innocence she had seemed to possess when she had first become a member of our household? From the first, her innocence had a way of disappearing completely when it suited her. Was it the result of inexperience as I had first thought, or was it the consequence of deliberate artifice as I had occasionally suspected?

Jimmy stepped away from her, leaving her hands grasping for his cock. Earlier, as everyone stared at her, Susan must have felt the master of her fate. Jimmy's behavior was calculated to destroy that illusion. He had to show her, and everyone else present, that he was master. He wanted to punish us for the hurt white men had inflicted on blacks throughout American history. Hence, he left her grabbing for his cock and getting only empty air. Her frustration emphasized his superiority.

Jimmy stepped out of his clothing quickly, gracefully. His glistening, muscular black body was now naked. I wondered what would happen next.

"Get down on your knees and suck my cock," Jimmy ordered. His voice indicated that it had been a command, not a suggestion.

Susan looked at him in surprise. No one had ever spoken to her that way. I think her first instinct at that point was to disobey him, but her desire to punish Mike and me and to teach us a lesson, along with her desire to devour some black meat, compensated for her resentment at being ordered about like a slave.

"Hurry up, you honky cunt!" Jimmy yelled at her. "Don't you like dark meat?" he asked.

Susan dropped to her knees. Then she leaned forward and took Jimmy's cock between her lips. She moved too slowly for Jimmy. He rammed his prick into her mouth as far as it would go. Susan gagged and tried to spit his meat out, but Jimmy grabbed the back of her head and held her mouth in position, his cock still reaching into her throat as deeply as before.

Susan had no choice but to relax and do the best she could. Her jaw muscles had clenched tightly as she sought to reject the prick that had invaded her mouth so roughly, but they unclenched and Jimmy's cock slid more easily between her lips and even more deeply into her throat.

Susan had seen the movie where the star gobbles up cock after huge cock. She knew that it was possible to accept an enormous tool in one's mouth and throat if one relaxes. Only that knowledge, I'm sure, saved her from panic, that and the implication in Jimmy's tone of voice that he would beat her if she disobeyed and tried to spit out the big cock that was slamming into her throat.

Jimmy began to rock back and forth, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth. Jimmy knew how to use threats to compel obedience. He had forced Susan to obey him, terrified her into doing exactly what he asked, yet he had never raised a fist to her, had not done more than hint with the vague menace in his voice that he must be obeyed.

Susan seemed to be enjoying it now and that worried and surprised me, but then I looked around and almost everyone at the party seemed to be enjoying it, too, except Mike and me, of course. Most of the people had undressed and I saw hard cocks and wet cunts all around me. Something perverse in white America's mentality made most of the people there, including Susan, enjoy this humiliation. I should have realized this before when I had seen Jimmy tormenting Karen and everyone, including me, so turned on by the sight. I probably would have been as aroused tonight as I had been then, or even more, since this humiliation was much more complete, if it hadn't been Susan out there with Jimmy.

He kept mouth-fucking her, giving her that huge black dong without mercy. She did her best, sucking his rod as it rammed in, licking it as it slid out. It didn't take Jimmy long to come. He wasn't interested in demonstrating his self-control now, only his mastery of Susan, not of himself.

Jimmy's body tensed and he lurched forward. His cock swelled slightly. I saw Susan's eyes widen, as if she couldn't believe what he was doing to her. She tried to pull her mouth away from his dick, but he held her head tightly, in the same way he had earlier. She couldn't move her head at all.

Jimmy's sticky spunk poured into her throat. Susan choked on his load as it filled her throat, but Jimmy didn't release his grip on her head. He forced her to stay where she was. She gagged, sputtered, begin to turn red, but still he kept her head in place.

Mike took a step forward as if he intended to free Susan from Jimmy, but, just then, Jimmy released her head, probably not because of Mike, but because Susan had taken as much as she could. Her face was bright red, and anyone could tell that she needed air.

Susan took her mouth off Jimmy's cock. She coughed and spit out a mouthful of jizz, then she gulped in huge amounts of air. Within a few seconds, her face had lost its redness and her normal color had returned. She still breathed heavily, however, and she looked exhausted as she crouched on the floor.

I expected her to get to her feet and walk away from Jimmy or at least to say something nasty to him. Instead, Susan looked up at him and smiled.

I felt sick inside. I marveled both at the perversity of white people around blacks and at her desire to hurt Mike and me. She had to know that her humiliation was ours, too, and that jealousy must be consuming us by now. Yet she not only didn't try to get away, she also looked as if she wanted more.

"Stay right where you are, white girl," Jimmy said to her.

I expected someone in the crowd to come forward to help her. I looked at Mike beseechingly, but he had stepped back with the rest of the crowd. Susan's smile had discouraged Mike and anyone else who might have wanted to help her. She was in for some trouble, but, if she didn't mind, no one else minded.

Jimmy crouched behind her. Then he pulled her legs apart slightly. He moved forward, his knees on the ground between her spread legs, his hands around her thighs, pulling her to him.

I knew that he was going to fuck her from behind and I hoped that he planned a rear-entry into her cunt. I was pretty sure, however, that he planned to fuck her up the ass and the thought frightened me. Even my finger had been a tight fit in that small shitter. At the beach, Mike and I had been very reluctant for Mike to try to screw her in the ass. Unfortunately, Jimmy wasn't as cautious. He was going to slam his big black cock into her tiny asshole and I was positive he wouldn't try to do it gradually.

I was right. Jimmy raised his hands up and spread the cheeks of Susan's butt. He looked at the tiny pucker of her asshole and chuckled wickedly. Then he lurched forward and rammed his cock in.


Susan screamed, an echoing, haunting scream of unspeakable agony. Jimmy's cock had only gone in her bung a few inches, but its knob had stretched her asshole wide. Getting fucked up the ass hurt any woman, at least for the first minute or two, even if the man were gentle and even if he lubricated her asshole with saliva, cunt-juice, or some store-bought lubricant. Nothing could be more painful than to be fucked up the ass the way Susan was getting it, hard cock against raw, virgin flesh.

Susan tried to squirm away, but Jimmy had dropped his hands to her thighs again and he held her in place. Susan continued to scream, but her efforts to get away became less determined.

Jimmy wasn't gentle at all. While Susan tried to resist, he pulled his cock all the way out and slammed it into her asshole again, even harder than before. This time his dong went in her butt a half-inch more than the time before.

Susan screamed even louder. Tears dripped down her face and she bit her lip, as if she wanted to stifle her cries of pain. I could see her muscles tensing occasionally as she tried to get away, but, as she realized the hopelessness of that, she ceased struggling.

Jimmy kept ramming his cock in and out of her asshole until it was almost balls deep inside her guts. Susan's screams got weaker, but she still let out a yelp each time his dick penetrated her raw slitter. The pain must have been excruciating.

Usually, when a woman gets fucked up the ass, pleasure eventually takes over from pain. In Susan's case, however, I thought that would be impossible. Jimmy's prick had to have scraped her small asshole so raw that she could not have felt pleasure at any point.

Either Susan was a girl who enjoyed suffering or she was putting on a good act for Jimmy, but, all of a sudden, she stopped screaming and started to beg for more.

"Jimmy, that feels good. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" she yelled.

Susan didn't seem in pain any more. In fact, she smiled happily, as if this was the most enjoyable fuck she had ever received. I couldn't believe it! From agony to enjoyment in a few minutes -- it just didn't make sense.

I think Jimmy was a little surprised, too. He started fucking her ass harder immediately, giving her what she had asked him for. He fucked her asshole as hard as he could and as fast as he could and somehow Susan withstood it and managed to revel in the pain or the pleasure or whatever mixture of those two that she felt.

Jimmy let her have his load of jizz. He pushed his pulsing cock deeply inside her bowels and stayed there. His face lost its hostility for a moment and a tranquil expression gradually spread over it. I could see some of his sperm overflowing, dripping out of Susan's asshole and down her thighs.

I expected Jimmy to pull his cock out, but he didn't. Showing remarkable staying power and probably excessive cruelty, he left his cock inside Susan's ass. The he reached down underneath her and fingered her cunt.

"Ohhhh, Jimmy. That's it. Keep that up and I'll come," Susan moaned. She showed no desire to eject his cock from her ass.

Jimmy kept it up, but not long enough for Susan to come. He waited until she was at the brink, her muscles starting to tremble, her cunt getting wetter and wetter. Then, in one convulsive movement, he ripped his cock out of her asshole.

Earlier, Susan might have been able to ignore the pain, but she couldn't do that now. She screamed as loudly as she had screamed when Jimmy had first shoved his cock into her virgin asshole.

Jimmy's cock was out of her now and he got to his feet while she lay slumped on the floor. His erect cock bore mute testimony to the torment he had inflicted on her. The globs of sperm on his cock and the shaft itself were both flecked with blood.

I stood motionless and so did everyone else. She had seemed to enjoy that brutal ass-fucking so much that we all felt as if she deserved the final pain she had suffered. I felt an impulse to help her, to comfort her, but I held back. After all, she had involved herself with Jimmy at least partly to torture Mike and me, to teach us a very harsh lesson. We had suffered as she intended. I knew she was right to teach us about jealousy, but I was still glad to see her suffer, too.

Nothing like this had ever happened before at one of our parties. I expected some sense of outrage from most of the guests, but there was none. Susan's seeming enjoyment of her pain and something inexplicable in the white psyche led to passive acceptance of what Jimmy had done.

I could spot only one angry face -- Cynthia's. Her eyes flashed with fire and she had balled up her fists as if she were ready to hit someone. She was a frightening and menacing sight. I expected her to go after Susan, but she went after Jimmy instead. Like a black panther, she stalked across the room after him and, like a big cat, she pounced. She grabbed him by the arm, her nails digging into him.

I expected Jimmy to slap Cynthia or to punch her in the jaw. Instead, he leaned forward and whispered something into her ear. She looked at him with a new fear in her eyes, let go of his arm, and strode out of the room.

Jimmy chuckled and sat down in a chair. He noticed that the rest of us were looking at him. "Hey, let's stop jiving and get this party going," he said, as if nothing had happened.

We stood still for a moment, then one couple started fucking on the couch, their bodies slamming together with monotonous regularity as they tried to fuck away the tension in the air.

After a few minutes, two other couples had begun to fuck in various parts of the room. Usually by this time, two or three men would have been after me, but I guess everyone knew that I was upset about Susan so they left me alone.

Susan lay on the floor, but she had stopped sobbing. The pain long gone, she seemed to be resting, enjoying the post-coital glow that didn't usually follow such a brutal assault. I wanted to talk to her, to blurt out my anger and resentment at the humiliation we had all shared, but I didn't move.

I was too depressed to cheer myself by indulging in the uninhibited fucking and sucking that was occupying most everyone else at the party. I went into the bathroom to have a good cry. I stayed there for about fifteen minutes, crying my eyes out in bitterness and frustration at Susan, at my own jealousy, at her revenge on me for that jealousy.

When I emerged, no one was busy with sex as they had been when I had gone into the bathroom to cry. Instead, everyone had clustered around Cynthia, who was sobbing shrilly.

"He's gone, he's gone! I have no idea where he went!" she said again and again.

I looked around. Jimmy had indeed vanished. A sick feeling hit me in the pit of the stomach. I looked around again although I already knew what I would see. Or wouldn't see. Susan was gone, too. She and Jimmy must have left together.

I found Mike. He was worried and upset and felt a little guilty, too, when I asked him whether he had seen her leave.

"I was so damn mad at what she was doing to us that I decided to fuck someone else and forget about it," Mike said. "I must have been busy screwing when she left with Jimmy. They didn't say a word to anyone -- they just vanished."

"I didn't see anything either. I was in there crying," I said, gesturing towards the bathroom as I spoke.

Cynthia was still crying, but the other guests had begun to leave. I saw that in a few moments we would be the only people there. I wasn't sure if we should stay. I felt guilty; after all, we had brought Susan and Susan had been at least partly responsible for this. I figured Cynthia would be angry at us or at least anxious for us to go.

I started to get my purse and leave, but Cynthia stopped me. "No, you two stay, please," she asked.

Her request surprised me, but Mike and I stayed. It was the least we could do. After all, without us, this never would have happened.

When everyone else had left, we talked it all over and tried to figure out where they had gone. Cynthia was as bewildered as we were.

"I don't know what got into him. He likes white people and he hates them, all at the same time. When he saw that young chick, it all boiled up out of him, all that hate and resentment. I don't think he would have gone as far as he did -- he's not that mean a dude -- but she seemed to like it so much. Oh, shit. I just want him back," said sadly.

"What did he tell you earlier, when you walked over to him all angry and everything and he whispered something in your ear?" Mike asked.

"He told me to shut my fucking mouth or he'd slam his foot through it as soon as everyone left," Cynthia told us. "He can be pretty mean," she added.

"I hope he doesn't beat up Susan," I said. I was worried, but not too worried. I was sure that Jimmy wasn't insane, just resentful of whites and a little irrational. I didn't think he would hurt Susan badly, especially if she did as he asked and, so far, she had done just that. I did hope, however, as Cynthia hoped, that we would get her back.

The three of us sat down to wait. It was a funereal atmosphere.

We must have been an incongruous sight. Three people sitting there unhappily, fidgeting nervously, while two of us were still completely naked. I had never undressed at this party. I had been too caught up in what Jimmy had been doing to Susan. Cynthia and Mike, however, had taken their clothes off, Cynthia before she realized exactly what her husband was doing with Susan, and Mike after he realized what was going on and had decided to try to forget it.

So we sat there through most of the night, hoping, waiting, wishing that they would return. By three in the morning we had lost hope, but some stubbornness that we began to think was mere wishful thinking led us to stay, awake and waiting.

I couldn't help imagining vividly Jimmy fucking Susan again and again until her sweet soft pussy was as raw and bleeding as her ravaged asshole. I wondered if Jimmy would know when to stop or whether, away from the crowd, he would punish her unmercifully and perhaps do permanent damage to her.

I shouldn't have worried. About four a.m. we heard voices outside, then footsteps on the front walk and the door opening. We ran into the front hall.

It was Jimmy and Susan. Jimmy looked embarrassed. He must have fucked away all his hostility, I decided. Susan didn't look embarrassed at all. Nor did she look injured. I wondered if she had enjoyed Jimmy's punishing attacks as much as earlier or whether he had been gentler with her.

Mike and I didn't know what to say, so we didn't say anything. Cynthia didn't know what to say either, so she didn't speak, but she did act. She must have been afraid of Jimmy because she ignored him. Instead, she walked right up to Susan and looked her straight in the eye.

"You mother-fucking honky bitch!" she yelled, after staring wordlessly at Susan for a few uncomfortable seconds. "How dare you run off with my husband!" she added, still screaming.

Susan didn't know what to say, so she tried her innocent smile. "We were only gone for six hours," she said softly. "I didn't run away with him. We just left for a while," she said.

I don't know what effect Susan expected that lame explanation to have, but I think what happened next surprised her. Cynthia drew her hand back and slapped Susan hard across the face. Susan stood there as if in shock while her face reddened, the marks clearly visible where Cynthia's hand had hit her.

I knew this wasn't black hostility against white America. It was a woman fighting another woman who had taken her man. Cynthia had Jimmy back, but she was going to make Susan pay for what she had done. Cynthia knew she couldn't hit Jimmy, so I think she gave Susan some extra punishment to make up for what she wanted to give to her husband.

She slapped Susan again, even harder this time. Susan stood there for a moment, tears welling up in her eyes, a small bruise raising itself on her cheek. Then she slapped Cynthia back, as hard as she could, rocking Cynthia's head back.

"I didn't take him away -- he wanted to go. Why don't you hit him?" she asked.

Susan's slap had infuriated Cynthia. She reached out and tried to scratch Susan's eyes with her long fingernails. Susan grabbed her arms and they started wrestling. They fell to the floor with Cynthia on top.

Cynthia reached down and ripped at Susan's dress, tearing it in shreds. She scratched at Susan's now naked flesh, leaving long, ugly-looking red furrows as her nails raked Susan's white skin. Then she reached down to Susan's tits and pinched the nipples hard.

Cynthia was too strong for Susan. She held Susan still while she made her suffer for what she had done. Cynthia went too far, however. She kept squeezing Susan's nipples and the terrible pain gave Susan a burst of adrenaline-induced strength. She reared up off the ground and threw Cynthia off her.

They faced each other like two wary she-cats, circling, eyeing each other. Cynthia had tired herself with the exertion of keeping Susan pinned to the floor while she scratched and pinched her. The pain she suffered had given Susan sudden energy. They were close to evenly matched now.

They moved together, grappling with each other. They hit the floor and rolled, first one on top, then the other. The shreds of Susan's dress had fallen away. They were both naked now, a black body and a white body locked together in what appeared to be a struggle to the death.

Their desire to kill each other wore off as quickly as it had come. As they tired, as it became apparent neither would be able to achieve any real advantage over the other, their struggle became more sporadic. Finally, they separated and lay on the floor, naked and exhausted, only a few inches apart.

At first, I had been worried and anxious watching them fight. I didn't want anyone to get hurt and I wasn't sure that Susan could handle herself. Then, when I saw that the struggle was a fairly equal one, at least in its latter stages, I began to enjoy watching it.

I felt ashamed of myself for finding the sight so erotic. The battle should have dampened all of my sexual desires, but it excited them. The two women were so beautiful. Cynthia's tawny beauty and Susan's voluptuous softness locked together, whether in lovemaking or fighting, had to be one of the most arousing sights I had ever seen! I'm not a fighter, but I wished that I could join them; the pain of fighting would have been worth the pleasure of feeling those two lovely bodies around mine.

The girls lay there motionless for a while. Then Susan stirred first. Her hand reached out and moved into Cynthia's bushy Afro. I felt sure that she would pull Cynthia's hair, try to tear it out of her head. Susan's next move surprised me. She tugged very gently at Cynthia's kinky hair, as if she wanted to pull Cynthia closer to her. I expected Cynthia to resist or to start fighting again, but she didn't. Instead, she moved closer to Susan and laid her head on Susan's thigh. Close together like that, they went to sleep, their violence, as well as their energy, purged from their systems.

Mike, Jimmy, and I watched for a while. Then I nudged Susan, trying to awaken her.

"Susan, we're home," I told her. I couldn't wait to tell her in the privacy of the car that I had learned my lesson. I was sure that Mike had learned, too, that jealousy was counterproductive and could only destroy good relationships.

It was too late. "I'm not going home with you," Susan said sleepily. Then she closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

I awakened her again.

"Look Lori. Fuck off. I told you and Mike and I couldn't stand jealousy. You got more and more jealous. So you blew it. I'm not living with you any longer. I'll come pick up my things tomorrow."

I was crushed. I started crying and pleading with her, but she closed her eyes and, as if I weren't there, went back to sleep.

There was nothing we could do. Mike got dressed and we drove home. Mike was as upset as I, but I was a little cheered to learn that he had realized, too, that jealousy was destructive. So at least it all hadn't been for naught. Still, we were pretty sure we had lost Susan. Our only hope was that she would change her mind.

It took me a long time to get to sleep that night. It was five in the morning and I was already exhausted, but the end of the evening came back to haunt me. I tossed and turned, thinking about Susan and about all that had transpired.

When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed a new variety of the lesbian dream I had been having for weeks. This time, Susan wasn't in the dream. It was the Eurasian woman who had been in the dream when I first had it. The dream had changed, however, from the original dream. Now when I walked towards the woman, she moved farther and farther away. The dream was torture. I awoke in a cold sweat, my heart pounding away, my throat dry. Then I calmed myself and went back to sleep, only to have the dream repeat itself.

I wasn't sure exactly what the dream meant. I knew Susan was probably lost to us, so I wasn't surprised at her absence from the dream. But what did the rest mean? Would I ever again enjoy the tasty flesh of another woman? Should I continue to search for a woman who would provide lesbian and three-way sex for Mike and I? Or was my search hopeless?


Mike and I felt sure Susan would leave us. When we woke up on the day of her departure, we were depressed. We wouldn't have felt as badly if we had known that we would see her again. Yet she hadn't mentioned any possibility of that.

Susan came back the next morning in a taxi. We were surprised. We had expected Jimmy to drive her over from his house to ours.

"Are you going back to Jimmy and Cynthia's?" Mike asked her when she arrived.

"No. I just didn't want to come back here last night," she told us.

"Where are you going?" I asked, hoping against hope that she would stay with us, but knowing inside that she would not.

"I don't know," she answered. "I guess I'll hitchhike around having some fun."

"Are you angry at us?" I asked.

"Not angry. Disappointed," she said.

"I'm sorry, Susan," I told her. "We did learn the lesson, but we were pretty late in learning it. Please stay."

"I can't. It might work, but I can't forget about what happened. I'd always be worried the jealousy would come back. I can't live like that."

Suddenly, her facial expression softened. She smiled at us warmly. "Look, I love you both," she said. "I had a great time, except for the jealousy thing the last few days. I'm gad I lived with you for a while and I'm glad I learned something new. I'll always be grateful for that."

Was her resolve weakening? I wondered. I hoped so.

"Susan, don't go," I begged. I had lost all pride. I wanted her to stay and would have done anything to convince her.

"I promise we won't be jealous. Stay and everything will be great, just like at the beach," I told her pleadingly.

"Sorry. I have to go away. You promised me before. I was pretty sure then that it wouldn't work, but I tried. Now I must leave."

I knew we had lost. The only thing left to do was to make our farewell as enjoyable as possible.

"Do you mind if we kiss you good-bye?" I asked.

"Of course not. Let me pack up first," Susan answered. I think she was afraid her resolve might weaken in our arms and she wanted to be all ready to go in case she felt tempted to stay.

She went to her room, packed quietly, then put her bags near the door. She walked up to us and stood in front of us, looking rather uncomfortable.

"Well, I guess I'd better be going," she said. "Would you mind driving me out to the interstate highway so I can hitch a ride out there?" she asked.

"Of course not," Mike said. "Let's have our kiss good-by first though."

I expected Susan to stand still, forcing us to take the initiative. I guess she felt she had made us suffer enough. She walked up to Mike, threw her arms around him and kissed him hard on the lips. He tried to hug her tightly, but she squirmed away.

I was next. Susan kissed me just as hard. I kissed her back fervently, knowing it would be the last time I felt her soft lips, the last time her tongue touched mine. I tried to push her to the floor. I wanted to eat her cunt once more, not to convince her to stay, but purely for the pleasure of tasting that delightful snatch one last time.

I gently pressed on her shoulders, hoping she would sink to the floor, but she resisted. She kept kissing me, even pushed her body against mine, but she wouldn't let our embrace progress any further than that.

Mike walked up to us and put his arms around us both. He was behind Susan, reaching his arms around her and around me, too. He pressed against her hard from behind. It was almost as if Mike and I wanted to weld the three of us together, to bind us so tightly that she couldn't leave. We really had no intention of preventing her from leaving, however. It was only that we wanted to savor the feel of her flesh for one last time. If we couldn't bury ourselves in her pussy or hide our heads between her ripe melon-like tits, then we would at least rub our bodies against hers and be as close to her as possible for as long as possible.

Finally, Susan disengaged herself from us. I could see that Mike had a hard-on. My own cunt was dripping juice. Nevertheless, Susan's mind had been made up. She was going to leave and we were not to sample all her charms before she left. It was frustrating, but we both knew it could really be no other way. Otherwise, her departure would drag on and, in the end, probably be more painful for us all.

We drove her out to the interstate. Our final good-bye was almost perfunctory. She gave us each a peck on the cheek and got out of the car. Mike helped her with her luggage.

"Please write," I told her, but I knew she wouldn't. It was over.

Our last sight of her is still a sad memory for me -- her beautiful smile flashing at the drivers of the cars that sped by, then one car stopping and Susan getting in.

I cried bitterly most of the way home. Mike didn't cry, of course, but he was rather subdued and sad. Then, all of a sudden, my mood changed.

"Mike, we shouldn't be sad. Everything will be fine from now on. We found Susan easily so we'll be able to find someone else, maybe not someone as spectacular as Susan, but I'm sure someone attractive. We'll just have to be patient. Now that we have conquered our jealousy, we won't have any problems at all."

Mike looked incredulous for a moment. Then a smile spread across his handsome face. "You're right, Lori. Let's stop and get a paper."

There wasn't anything promising in the paper that week, but I knew everything would turn out okay. My dreams had never lied. That week, I had the same dream every night, a dream that I had for the first time right before Susan's arrival.

I dreamed that I was on the four-poster bed, naked, half-asleep, while a beautiful young girl waited at the door. I coaxed her in, got her to lie on the bed, then relaxed her with a gentle massage. Then, I ate her pussy. One lick of her succulent snatch and the dream ended. I woke up each time I had the dream, but I wasn't worried. I knew now that my dreams never lied!


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