A Year in the Life

The only sound in the room was the slow soft rhythmic breathing of the naked men on either side of my equally bare body, their warmth a comfort against my skin. The pale glimmer of moonbeams found their way through the slight part in the dark curtains to cast unmoving shadows against the white ceiling, while the rest of the room was bathed in soothing darkness.

I should be sleeping. I was so tired that my mind should be drifting in dreamland but instead it churned over how lucky I was whilst worrying about how fragile such heaven could be. There was no immediate threat to my bliss and yet I knew that one of these beautiful men could be gone tomorrow, lost to anything from the pull of another women to an unexpected job offer. For the moment I was basking in the love of two men and fearing that something could steal that feeling from me. It is a woman's curse to be consumed by worry even in the face of such perfect wonder.

Tonight had been a magical celebration of our first anniversary. Anniversary? Anniversary of what? One year ago tonight Don had arrived at our home with his overflowing boxes of everything he owned, his world destroyed in a single month. He brought with him a new life for me. A world of contentment, fulfillment, and happiness that I can not bear the thought of losing.

I wish I could describe the pleasures of tonight, but everything is a swirl of wonder that can't be separated into its parts in my brain. I try to remember who's mouth kissed mine first, who's lips nibbled my ear, my neck. I know that four hands, skilled not only in how to please a woman but fine tuned to my personal pleasure, roamed my body. Multiple hands and tongues had caressed my pussy. I know that both men sucked my nipples and two tongues sent me into the throws of mind numbing orgasms. I remember the bolts of lightning that flashed through me as each of my hands reached out and grasped a rigged cock as a tongue played with mine while my tightly closed eyes rolled in their sockets. I might remember more clearly what I did with one man if another had not always been pleasuring me at the same time.

The night was a blur of passion and tenderness, of hard thrusts and soft kisses. I was lost in a sea of love from the moment that the two men had led me upstairs to our bed until they fell asleep beside me. The sea parted intermittently by the intensity of crashing orgasms that left me incoherent and trembling but eagerly awaiting the next touch, the next crash of thunder. The storm had raged for hours until I found myself laying spent between the two as they each kissed me softly and caressed me tenderly for what seemed an eternity of bliss before they slowly nodded into sleep leaving me in a state of happiness like I have never felt before. Happiness so complete that I was frightened. It is that fear that keeps me awake now despite the glow of our love.

I love my husband with all my heart. We have a love that spans nearly a quarter century, a lifetime full of trials overcome and shared dreams. He is so much more than I could have ever imagined as a young girl or as his new bride. He is the best friend I have, the best friend I could ever imagine having. Until a year ago Tom was the only person in the world that I could be completely myself with. The only person I could trust to tell my dreams or share my innermost fantasies with.

My husband, Tom, is a great lover, always concerned for me, always determined to please me. Willing to do anything for me. He never fails to send me to heaven. His only failure as a lover is that he doesn't have the drive that I do. I didn't really know that until a year ago or perhaps that fire of extra lust was only lit in me a year ago.

My husband is everything to me. I would founder in a world without him but can I go back to a world without my other lover? I suppose I could survive in a world with only one man, but would I want to?

Now there are two; but what is Don to me? A friend nearly as close as Tom. A special lover. Don is the amplifier of my husband's love. Including him in our love life makes it so much more special. Don is my other husband, the one I want to proclaim to the world by shouting from the highest mountain, but I can not. I love him, totally. I trust him with my heart. My insecurity lies in the question: What am I to Don?

Don doesn't say the words but I know he loves me. I can feel his love warming my world. If I had to choose between the two of them, it would be Tom that I chose, but as long as I can have Don, I choose them both. I have no hold over Don. There is no formal or legal commitment of me to him or him to me, none but the strength of our specialness for each other. I have no hold over him to bind us together. We are only held by the bonds of our hearts and of my pussy and that is what scares me.

Can a dumpy middle aged woman hold the hearts of two hunks forever? Tom and I grew together from young hormone controlled sexy grown up children to where we are now. Tom and I have so much history, so many shared mixed dreams, so many common memories of children and accomplishments to bind us. Don and I share a mutual respect and friendship but the only thing to bind us is the lust of our past our prime bodies. Can I hold onto him?

My sleepless mind roams back to how it all began. To many it might be a study in absurdity, a lewd perspective on life. To me it is a happy story of life. A wonderful life I could easily have missed out on.

If someone had told me two years ago that there would be one night in my life where I would find myself softly wedged between two naked men while my womb was warmed by the seed from both of them, I would not have thought it possible. I would not have believed that I could or would have made love to any man but Tom.

I felt my husband stir beside me and smiled. Now I found myself between two caring loving men every night and most nights pleasantly well fucked. Not many nights were as magical as this one, but most nights were special. It was Tom who had made my present world the heaven that it is.

Images of the last year swirled in a jumble through my semi-conscious brain, each vision more pleasant, more erotic than the last. I squeeze my eyes shut and feel the wonder of love that the two men have blessed me with washing over my soul.

It all began almost two years ago. Our youngest had finally flown the nest, moving half way across the country to start his professional life. Our daughter had moved the year before to the other side of the country.

Suddenly the house was empty and my heart ached for my two now near adult babies but a new opportunity opened up. The house was empty. There was no one to hear our moans and our love life took a temporary but intense turn. The passion was back. We didn't have to be quiet.

In those first months I learned something about myself. I was a wanton slut in disguise. In all those years of marriage, my overheated sex drive had been repressed and I didn't even know! There was always too much to do, always the chance of a little one bouncing into our bedroom to be soothed from a bad dream. Later there was the danger of being overheard by snooping teenagers. We had a totally conventional love life and I thought it was wonderful.

As the first month of quiet came to an end, my sexual spring was still wound too tight. I wanted Tom every day, most days more than once and that urge wasn't diminishing. Tom on the other hand had drifted back to twice a week. We settled for something between our desires. I didn't feel neglected. I thought I was satisfied, but most nights I found myself drifting to sleep wishing for more but comforted in my man's arms.

Tom and I could always talk about anything and if our coupling had slipped to normal, our conversations were getting hotter with no children to overhear. We had told each other our most intimate and intense fantasies. Most of those on each of our lists had already been moved from the realm of daydreams to reality. Anything that two people could do, we had already done. My number one fantasy had always been to have two men but it was never a dream that I wanted to make come true. His number one fantasy had always been to watch me with another man. I had thought that that fantasy, like mine, was only a daydream to be left in that special place in our minds.

One night about two months after the kids left I saw that special glint in Tom's eye as he steered me toward the bedroom. I smiled inwardly thinking that I was in for a special fucking. I didn't get it that night.

Tom led me by the hand to our bedroom and then kissed me passionately while he pulled my clothes from my body. He held me and I felt his erect cock pressing against my belly button and it had my pussy dripping like a fountain. I happily followed him to our king size bed and laid beside him.

His shining eyes looked into mine and instead of a kiss, he said "I think it's about time we started looking for another man to fulfill our fantasy, don't you?" Those words are forever burned into my memory. I will never forget them.

I have no idea what words I screamed back at him. Suffice it to say that I didn't think it was time. I didn't even think it was something we should seriously think about. My anger bubbled for an hour while he uncomfortably listened to me vent before softly kissing me and rolling over to sleep.

He didn't let go of the idea but he brought it up a little more gingerly from then on. He fed me the thought slowly a spoonful at at time, convincing me that he had moved it from reality back to a fantasy. Slowly he transformed me from anger at the mention of it to allowing the idea to stoke his sexual fire, which I accepted with pleasure. Even more slowly he led me back to the path of reality.

Finally we talked. Not in the heat of the bed but over the dinner table. He convinced me that another man would not change his feelings for me. I was more frightened of losing our special relationship than turned on by another man. He convinced me to participate in his plans but with total veto power. I didn't think it would ever happen.

I didn't think another man would want me. I'm 48 years old and the years have added 15 pounds to my ideal weight. Where my tummy had been flat, now it was rounded. My 36 C tits had lost their firmness and sagged slightly. There was a touch of gray in my hair. Who, besides my man, would want me? Tom told me that I was still beautiful, still desirable, still sexy. I didn't believe.

Then there was me. I like looking at a built naked man as much as the next girl, but that is only a third of the sexual equation for me. In order for me to be truly turned on by a man, he has to impress my eyes, but also my mind and my heart. He has to be my conversational equal and make me laugh, but he also has to be my friend. There would be no man, besides my husband, that met all those conditions.

We opened a new e mail account and then posted an ad on an internet swinging site. I expected no response. He had put a picture on the ad of me in a bikini. What better deal killer than a picture of me in a bikini?

I had no interest in looking at that mail account. I didn't expect much response and certainly not after less than 24 hours. I convinced Tom that dinner and conversation with me was more important than wasting time looking at our new dirty e-mail that wouldn't have a single response anyway.

Tom was itchy to go check. I was bored but I couldn't stop his excitement. As soon as the dishwasher door closed he was off in a shot to check our nonexistent mail.

I was just settling down to a boring night of lousy television when Tom screamed, "Wow babe, we hit the jackpot! Come take a look!"

A slight tremor went through me. I don't know if it was fear or excitement. I didn't really mind being torn from lousy television, but I didn't quite know what to expect to find in the mail. I headed reluctantly for our den and the computer.

Tom was bouncing like a little boy at Christmas. He had opened the account but none of the mail. Being the gentleman that he is, he slipped out of the chair and let me sit behind the computer screen while he looked over my shoulder, his face so near that I could feel his excited breath on my neck.

It took a second for my eyes to adjust, and a minute for the shock to register on my brain. There were 173 e mails waiting.

If I was shocked at the number, I was more shocked at the contents of those e mails. I opened the first twenty. To call them crude would be kind. They were disgustingly blunt and full of explicit descriptions of what those men would like to do to me. I wasn't interested in what they wanted. The only redeeming thing about those letters is that fifteen of them were good looking men without their clothes. Four more only contained pictures of their penises. Far from being turned on, they revolted me. It wasn't only the bad writing and crude contents, it was the selfish ego that each of the men exhibited. They seemed to all think that they were god's gift to pussy. They didn't even have the consideration to think of any other part of a woman. We were just sex organs who must be drooling to satisfy them. Disgusting.

Twenty was enough wasted time for me. I had already made up my mind that enough was enough when I opened number twenty. Up until then I had opened, looked and read in silence. Tom made no noise behind me. I think Tom saw my waning interest as nauseating number twenty opened on the screen. He said. "Wow what a cock! Wouldn't that feel good in you?"

I turned toward him. "If the guy is a big prick, then I don't care how big his dick is. The guy we pick has to be a nice guy. If I like him and his personality, then I don't care how small his cock is. These all just disgust me."

"Whoa! You're not gonna quit now are you? Mr. right might be the next one."

I was not happy with Tom's attitude. "Mr. right is right behind me. I don't need any of these guys."

"But you said..."

I cut him off. "I said that if we found the right guy, we could have a threesome. I said it. I will do it, but I'm tired of looking at this sick stuff. You know what I like. You look through them. Just delete the filth and if you find one you think I'll like, I'll look at it. You sort through them, and then I'll look."

I huffed out to go back to lousy television, rather hoping that Tom would follow and give up this fools quest but he was determined. My loving husband parked himself behind the computer and kept on reading looking for the perfect man to fuck me.

I sat there, feeling strange while I waited for Tom to call me. I wasn't mad, not at Tom, not even at the assholes that answered us. I rather figured that among those 173 responses there would be a few that weren't crude. I just felt a nervous lump in my stomach. I was sitting there waiting, not able to concentrate on the television. I knew that eventually Tom would call me and ask me to choose a man. My mindset wasn't very positive.

It was over an hour before Tom called me. "Hey, Hon, I found a couple."

My breath was coming in fast gasps as I went back into the den.

I read each of the last four and while they weren't crude, there was something I didn't like about each of them.

Tom was disappointed but still full of hope.

That was repeated for three more nights. I couldn't believe the quantity. There were at least 150 each night. My ego was slightly stoked by the number, I did check the count each night before Tom was stuck with the chore of whittling the bulk down to only a very few for me to actually read.

On the fourth night after posting our ad, Tom found Don's. When Tom looked at that ad, he stopped and called me, leaving at least 50 unopened. Don's ad was full of self depreciating humor. It was funny! His view of himself lacked any display of ego. While it was full of humor, it was lacking in any crude comments. There was nothing overtly sexual in that ad and yet the sexuality between the lines was almost palatable. The picture attached was of a very good looking fully closed man about our age with eyes that even in the picture were twinkling with mirth. The smile on the picture's face was shining. Something about the ad reached out and touched me in a place I wasn't expecting.

I finally answered one. I tried to answer in the same vane as the ad, with humor and a sexless sexiness.

For the next week Don and I exchanged e mails. All of them showed his sense of humor and his eloquence with words. Not once did he tell me what HE wanted to do TO me. We told each other our life stories, each letter more detailed than the last as we opened up to each other about everything but sex.

Don's story was one of humor in the midst of pain. His second marriage was coming to a vicious end. In the middle of it all, he kept his sense of humor. Usually I was both laughing and crying when I finished with his daily letter.

I had rather hoped that when I finally found a man I could agree to, he would live so far away that meeting was not possible. Don only lived about 45 miles from us.

When I got home from work, the first thing I did was to open the mail and look anxiously for Don's e mail. I was enjoying the exchange with Don while tossing hundreds of other responses directly and unopened into the recycling bin.

Tom would read our letters without comment, but he got more turned on each day. Each night I got a good hard fucking from my excited husband. I was enjoying the exchange with Don, but what really turned me on was the response of my husband. I knew what was running through Tom's mind. With each exchange he knew that a meeting for sex was becoming more possible.

Tom watched and read for a week without comment. Finally he could wait no more. "This is the one isn't he?"

A knot hit the pit of my stomach. I was starting to like Don. I was enjoying our letters. Of all of the hundreds of responses, he was the only one I would consider. "Yeah, I guess he is."

"Then shouldn't you tell him what we want? Shouldn't you start making plans for us to get together?"

"What should I say? Hey, Don, how soon can you get your butt over here and fuck me?"

"Well, yeah. Exactly."

I'm not sure why I was annoyed. All three of us knew that that was where this whole thing was leading. I knew that all Don really wanted was into my panties, but every day I dodged the subject, was one more day before I had to admit the truth. One more day I had a friend and not a lecherous pen pal, come lover. I knew that sooner or later the subject had to come up. Each day I put it off was one more day before the semi-dreaded event.

"I will talk to him about it. I promise." I told my husband.

"When?"

"Soon!"

"I think he's waiting for you. The sooner you ask him when, the sooner we can do this." Tom told me.

What I thought was, "Exactly, and every day I delay is one more day I don't have to do it." What I said was, "I'll bring it up. I promise. Just let me do it on my time!" I think he saw that I was getting annoyed, that I ran hot and cold on the whole thing. I think he read my reservations about the two of us.

"It's O.K., Hun. We'll be just fine." He hugged me and smiled. "It will really be fun for you. You'll love it. I promise."

I had thought that broaching the sexual subject would be the deal killer. I expected that when I opened the door I would find that Don was just another polite pervert. I expected to get a graphic description of what Don wanted to do to me. I dreaded losing a friend. I drug my feet.

Toward the middle of the second week, I yielded to Tom and broached the subject. Not the subject of us getting together, but of sex in general. To my surprise, that didn't result in a crude reply full of how I would pleasure him. Instead it became a discussion of our past experiences and our mutual likes and dislikes. He didn't even make it personal exactly. The discussion was never about what we were going to do. He showed no sexual selfishness nor any of the absurd idea that he was about to give me the best fuck of my life. Always his sense of humor exceeded his sexuality, strangely making him even more sexually attractive to me. Sex can be such a funny subject and Don had me laughing after reading each e-mail.