Geoff And Marie The Live Sex Show

Episode 14 in the unlikely adventures of our narrator Geoff, his wife Marie and their sexual partners too numerous to list here. The series begins with 'My daughter's panties' and follows on from there, introducing new characters as we go.

I strongly suggest that you read the stories in order but I'm not your dad, so you just read them in any order that you want to. Just, for pity's sake, remember this isn't meant to be taken seriously.

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It was the Thursday morning after Kate and her daughter, Sam, had visited us for their language class the previous evening. You will recall that is our euphemism for having sex with my wife's closest friends as well as a couple of waifs and strays we've collected along the way.

We slept late that morning. I had given Marie the same full, scented, sensual massage as Sam but, this time round, I had managed to sneak in a couple of orgasms for myself too. We were both very relaxed as we snuggled together that Thursday.

"Any plans today, love?" Marie yawned as she tried to motivate herself to leave our nice warm bed.

"That depends," I replied. She raised a very expressive eyebrow in unspoken enquiry.

I explained my thinking. "I owe Angie a treat. It isn't something you'd enjoy participating in, so I thought that I might indulge her while you are at work and then you and she could have tonight together." I watched as she processed my suggestion.

"You know that you don't need my permission to spend time with Angie," she reminded me.

"I know. It just seems like the right thing to do," I said, a little defensively.

"Well, in that case, I had planned to be at the shop from twelve until four; as long as you can be all done by the time Colin gets home, ask Angie if she's free today."

"That was what I was thinking," I admitted. "Shall I ring her?"

"I think she'd appreciate that," Marie smiled. "Remember to ask if she has everything she needs in her room here."

I agreed, and we both went about the business of starting our day and, though I say so myself, Marie seemed to glow with health after my massage.

As it turned out, Angie had nothing in particular planned for a few days and her response when I suggested that I was considering giving her a 'treat' that afternoon was enthusiastic to say the least.

Marie smirked when I told her over breakfast. "You know it isn't my thing, Geoff, but make it good for her." She gave me a sexy grin. "I'm sure that she'll tell me all about it tonight."

After we had tidied the kitchen, I collected my toolbox and drove to the pub. I'd booked the function room for a very private party but it needed some work on the ambience. Tony, the landlord, let me in and we checked out the room together. We tried the lighting sets, temporarily taping them to the ceiling. They were dim but moody. One set was pointing at the walls, giving the drab white emulsion a dappled blue effect; the other set illuminated the small raised stage in different shades of red. Together the directed and reflected light created interesting shadows. Eventually, we had them placed so that the effect was fine for atmosphere, but we still lacked something for the main performers.

Tony looked thoughtful for a moment, excused himself and left. While he was gone, I screwed our spots in place and tidied up the wiring. Tony returned five minutes later with a box of light-bulbs. "When you do your own basic maintenance, you need a fairly comprehensive stockpile of consumables," he grumbled, searching through the box, discarding a couple of false starts on the grounds they had the wrong fittings, until he produced a halogen spot that he thought might fit.

I held a chair as he clambered up to replace the mundane bulb that was already in the fitting above the stage. While there, he reached out and removed the bulbs in the adjacent fittings; both on the same circuit.

He climbed down and turned off the original lights. My coloured lights on their own illuminated the room but, when he turned on the halogen above the stage area where I stood, he assured me that I was clearly the star of the show. We exchanged places and I had to agree. We turned off the mood lighting and the room returned to its clean but sad former self.

"If that was a preview of the impact of improving the lighting in this dump, then installing an update is long overdue," Tony commented as we made our way downstairs.

Reluctantly declining his offer of a pint on the house, I left for home, arriving just as my wife was about to leave. "Angie's upstairs putting some things in her room," she told me. "She seems so thrilled that she has her own space here." Marie gave me a quick peck on the lips. "That will have to do for now," she apologised. "Angie will make it up to you, I'm sure. Just be certain that you're both decent when Colin gets in." And with that warning, she was gone.

Angie found me in the kitchen five minutes later and greeted me with an ardent kiss. "Early lunch?" I managed to ask, once I'd got my breath back.

"Must we?" She scowled, obviously impatient to begin. I gave her one of the looks (number six; feigned annoyance) from my new repertoire and she reluctantly helped me to put together a light salad together with some blue Wensleydale cheese. We sat and nattered comfortably as we ate. We discussed our upcoming wedding, Wendy, Jane and, of course, Jo's party.

As we cleared the table, Angie stopped to give me a hug. I returned it happily enough but she saw the question in my look. "It was my way of saying, 'Thank you'," she explained. "Outside of this house or when I'm with the girls, I feel as though I always have to be alert for threats. Even with my husbands, I always seemed to be analysing the things that they did and said, to see if they were pursuing their own agendas." She hugged me again. "With you and the girls, I can relax. If I'm being an annoying cow, you'll tell me, and that's fine. But I know that you won't try to manipulate me."

Again, she saw my expression of faux amazement. "I'm not blind to the irony in what I just said," she protested as she put the cutlery away. "I realise that I submit to you precisely so that you can manipulate me, but that is consensual. You aren't trying to cheat me or win some game that I don't even know that I'm playing."

To be fair, I did understand. Angie was surprisingly wealthy. An unscrupulous person might try to exploit her for her money; we never would, and she knew that, deep in her bones. I held out my hand. "Come on gorgeous, let's go play in your bedroom."

To say that she was excited would be a massive understatement; she was almost vibrating in anticipation. I'd given her treat some thought. Lucy had described my torture-by-orgasm over breakfast the morning after. I didn't want to be too predictable so my plan was, perversely enough, exactly the opposite.

"Naked on the bed please," I suggested. I got a questioning look as she complied. "No," I corrected her assumption. "This treat is for Angie to experience. Angela only gets to do my bidding."

I think she understood. Anyway, she shivered in eagerness as I bound her wrists together and lashed them to the bed head. She watched carefully as I used my most recent project, a home-made spreader bar, between her ankles to separate her legs.

Now she was generally immobilised. She lay helpless as I fetched the toy that I intended to employ that afternoon. First of all, I approached the bed moving the wand vibrator menacingly in front of me. She smirked in anticipation. I smiled to myself; she was in for a surprise.

I began, much as I had with Lucy, at her breasts; over, around and under, stopping only briefly at her nipples at first. As the stimulation progressed, I paid more attention to her ever more erect nubs. Her breathing got heavier, her body twitching as her excitement built, until... I stopped.

She gaped at me; I smiled and left her for five minutes while I went for a pee and returned to a tirade of abuse. Good! She wanted new experiences, I was sure that she'd never done this before. This time, without responding, I used the vibrator between her thighs. She was already aroused so it took less time to reach the edge of the orgasmic cliff when, again, I pulled the toy away. She watched, furious, as I walked to the chair, undressed and sat, naked, grinning at her frustration.

I kept up the cycle, bringing her close to orgasm and then stopping, for nearly an hour. By then she, like Lucy, had moved through bemusement to frustration to rage to begging for release. The final time, she watched, hopefully, as I approached.

"Geoff, for pity's sake," she pleaded. Again, I used the wand against her labia and clit, only this time, when she got close, I knelt between her legs and slid inside her.

"Ohhhh my God!" She groaned as I filled her. Those were the last coherent words she spoke as I railed her enthusiastically for the next five minutes or so. Her orgasm or orgasms, I couldn't tell, seemed to run on for all of the last three minutes. In my mind, I envisaged a queue of orgasms, like buses released from a red light which suddenly turned to green, all then finally arriving at their appointed destination, one after the other.

I wasn't complaining either. I found Angie to be an attractive woman still. In the course of entertaining her that afternoon, I had access to her naked restrained body to do with as I wished. Our climactic sex to release her denied orgasm was almost as intense for me.

I untied her bonds and she responded by instinctively curling into an almost foetal position, with her back to me. I lay down behind her and she burrowed closer. I put my hand on her hip and she protested, reached down and pulled it to her breast. She sighed in satisfaction and fell asleep. My phone was on the bedside table, in one of those nifty little wooden stands from IKEA, and I saw we had plenty of time before Colin was due home. I relaxed and let my eyes close; I had already set an alarm for 14:30, there was time to enjoy a moment of intimacy, rather than just sex, with my wife to be.

I woke about ten minutes before the alarm was due and savoured the sensation. I was sexually sated, warm, comfortable, had a naked woman in my bed and a boob in my hand. What's more, even if my wife had barged into the room and found us like that, she'd just have undressed and joined us.

Eventually, the alarm went off and Angie stirred. "Geoff," she mumbled, sleepily.

"Yes, love?" I replied.

"I know Marie has misgiving about, you know, restraints and stuff but, fuck, you have to show her that."

I kissed her shoulder. "She is expecting a detailed report after tea," I laughed. "Possibly with marks for imagination and effort. We'll see if that piques her interest."

"It was different," she conceded. "I'll confess that if my hands had been free, I would have cheerfully killed you towards the end."

"This my concern," I admitted. "You and Lucy in particular seem to want to push me further and further. What happens if we go too far? If someone gets hurt, physically or emotionally? Is it possible that we'll get so jaded that just making love isn't enough? Might we do something that damages our relationship?"

She patted the hand still holding her breast. "No!" She said, emphatically. "You wouldn't do anything like that; we wouldn't ask you to and Marie wouldn't let it happen." She paused and sniffed. "God! But I need a shower. Let go of my tit so I can go to the bathroom."

I did and, as I watched her slender bum as she left the bed, she called over her shoulder, "Would you strip the bed for me, please. I'll get that sheet in the wash before Colin gets in." She paused. "I'll open the window too, once we're dressed. It stinks of sex in here."

We were sitting cuddling together on the sofa when Colin arrived, with Mia in tow. Angie had offered to cook that afternoon and we were trying to decide what we fancied. I suggested a chilli con carne with rice. Angie decided otherwise.

"Kids," she called. They wandered in from the kitchen with glasses of milk and a chocolate biscuit each.

"If I go shopping for ingredients, would you two help me cook tea tonight?" The two teens shared a look and agreed. "Right," she announced, standing up. "Go and sort out your homework with grandad; I'll go shopping."

I stood and went to get my wallet. She glared at me. "Go on. Do it," she challenged me. "I bloody dare you to offer me money to get food for the people I care about."

I carefully closed the drawer and apologised for my insensitivity. "I just don't want you to think that we take you for granted," I explained.

Her expression softened. "And if I ever feel that way, I'll say something, but right now it's my turn to give. Please allow me that."

I went and pulled her into a hug. "Sorry Angie. You know I wouldn't deliberately upset you. Am I forgiven?"

She returned my hug. "You were never in trouble. I was just reminding you that we're family now and I want to contribute too."

She gave me another squeeze, a brief kiss and she left. I turned to the kids, who had watched our exchange, fascinated. "What?" I asked.

Colin shook his head. "Not sure about this whole adult relationship stuff," he griped. "They are all weird." Mia smiled at his comment, but didn't argue. To be fair, the lad had a point.

"Okay." I clapped my hands. "Homework?"

It turned out that they were studying climate change. Their teacher had given the class three questions and they were free to choose which one to answer. I suggested that Colin and Mia avoided answering the same question so they weren't accused of copying, and sent them off to the study.

Angie was back and in the kitchen laying out her ingredients when the teens finally reappeared. Colin, ever the gentleman, had allowed Mia to use our laptop for her slides, while he had used my tablet. That was fine; it wasn't as though we regularly used our devices to cruise porn sites. Besides, I had made sure that Marie knew to use private tabs if she was viewing adult content. The kids were old enough to start learning about relationships. Images of explicit sex were not on their agenda for some years to come.

I sent them in to the kitchen and, with their permission, went to check over their homework. I was reassured. If I had seen job applications written that thoughtfully, they both definitely would have qualified for an interview.

I joined the others in the kitchen, only to find that I was redundant. Colin was slicing an onion, Mia was chopping mushrooms and Angie was trimming what looked like a pork fillet. She looked up and shook he head, smiling. "The sous chefs are doing fine," she explained. "I want them to feel confident that they can work without being micro-managed."

I watched Colin. He was doing well. Slow, perhaps, but careful. Mia was taking equal care to have all the slices of mushroom a similar thickness.

"Shall I set the table then?" I suggested. The consensus was that yes, I could perhaps make myself useful that way.

"Set for a starter, main and dessert, please," Angie advised me. "We have a full menu planned."

"Wine?"

"A nice white, maybe an oaked chardonnay," suggested Colin. "I checked on my phone," he explained, in response to my surprised expression.

I grunted and went to set about my assigned tasks, and that was how Marie found me when she returned from work. "That's my job when you're the cook," she observed.

"I have been supplanted by our wicked betrothed and her evil teen minions," I sulked.

"That's nice, dear," she said, absently, as she bustled about putting her coat away.

We went into the kitchen together once I had finished. My wife walked up behind Angie and gave her a big hug. "Geoffrey is feeling emasculated," she told her friend. The minions looked on in amusement.

Angie gave a derisive snort. "It's my turn to cook with the kids because I'm here today. Geoff can take his turn any day."

"There you go, Geoff," my wife reassured me. "We still enjoy your cooking, it's just that Angie gets less opportunity." Seeing as how I was only pretending to be upset, it was easy to pretend that all was forgiven. I accepted the explanation with a kiss for both of my girls and went off in search of a bottle of wine.

I sat and read, while Marie and Angie caught up in the kitchen. Marie joined me ten minutes later. "Angie's bursting to tell me about her day, but all she dare say in front of the kids is that you and she had a pleasant afternoon."

I glanced at the door. "I don't think we should have this conversation here and now. If one of the youngsters walks in, the guilty silence will just be uncomfortable for everyone. So how was your day?"

And so we sat and I listened to her accounts of generous donors, sweet natured old ladies and the occasional twat who tried to bargain down the price on the ticket. For Fuck's sake! It's a charity shop. And Marie was clear; the worst offenders were most obviously not short of change. They were just tight bastards. Not that my beloved ever capitulated. She would just smile sweetly and remind them where they were, pointing out that they were welcome to try the same approach in John Lewis with her full support.

We made the occasional foray to the kitchen but our offers of help were politely, but firmly, rebuffed. To be fair, the atmosphere was relaxed. I asked about the menu and, after looking to the chef for approval, Mia ran through it. "We are starting with cubes of baked breaded brie on a bed of salad with a lingonberry relish. Then there is pork stroganoff with green vegetables and rice. For dessert we are having individual warm pear frangipane tartlets with chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream." She paused. "Oh, yes," she continued. "If anyone is still hungry there's a selection of cheeses as well as olives, and some nice bread to go with dipping oils and vinegars."

I did a quick calculation in my head. "At todays prices, I reckon that meal would come in at about £50 plus per head just in a country pub." Mia just grinned at me. I carried on. "Can I afford to get used to eating like this?"

I looked around the kitchen brigade and saw three unreasonably happy cooks. Angie was obviously less demanding of the children and seemed thrilled to be able to pass on her knowledge. Colin just loved cooking and Mia seemed to be determined to learn so that she could help her mum.

I turned to Angie. "This all smells wonderful. Wendy and Linda should both be here well before six. Is that okay, Chef?"

Angie looked at her team. "Starters on the pass for six o'clock."

"Yes Chef!" They shouted in unison. We shook our heads and left them to it.

Wendy arrived first. Mia had sent her a text to say that they were eating at our place again. Wendy tried to apologise for intruding but we, particularly Marie, were having none of it. "We love having Mia with us. I know she's very mature but, as Colin is here anyway, it makes no sense for her to be at home, alone," my wife told her. "In addition, Angie is doing a cookery masterclass and she is way more tolerant of the kids than she is with me, so it's easier just to let them get on with it."

Mia must have heard her mum's voice because she left the kitchen, briefly, to give her mum a hug before apologising. "Sorry mum, but I need to turn the tarts so they brown evenly." And, with that, she dashed back to the kitchen. We led a bemused Wendy to the living room, sat her down and asked about her day. Her eyes filled as she explained just how grateful she was not to come home to have to start cooking a meal, even just for one night. She had a decent job in the Civil Service so money wasn't too much of a problem. She just struggled finding time to be the wage earner, housekeeper and mum. She felt guilty too that Mia seemed to feel obliged to sacrifice her spare time to help around the house rather than being a teenager.