Men... you're just fucking weird.
My guy—Guy #1, Bill, you'll recall—has a long, really thick dick. If he points it at your nose and you stare at it at eye level, you see its girth is oval-shaped, not round. I can lay two American quarters across the top of his erection. My middle fingertip cannot touch my thumb when I jerk him off. He's a mouthful, literally, and yet... he constantly wants me out there searching and meeting guys with 'big dicks.' Fine, I say. If that's what you want, but I don't get it, all this 'other big dick stuff.'
(I'm not complaining. Look at the story title, for God's sake. Go read chapter one again. I'm just curious what makes men tick in that way. I know he's not the only one. He showed me the cuckold and hotwife websites. He's in good company. It's just a crazy aspect of adult male masculinity I never expected to encounter when I hopped online a year ago. I guess I should be grateful.)
That gratitude I ought to be feeling is why I'm here again, telling stories. I'm oh, so thankful for what happened to us after my first night with Alex. As if that wasn't hot and satisfying enough, it only led to even more opportunities for me to stretch my limits. Turns out, I have fewer and fewer every day.
When I wrote that first profile, I adamantly insisted I would never do threesomes. I was strictly a one-on-one girl, and that's all I'd ever done, even after partnering with Bill and up until I spent that evening with Alex, and the next guy I met after (don't ask; all he did was lick me when his pot belly kept his fifty-year-old dick from getting hard. He paid for the drinks and the room, though, so there's that.) I had always resisted Bill's suggestions about three-ways and gang bangs and swinger parties. But as with Alex and the phone call voyeurism, it took Bill ignoring me and putting me, he says, where I was meant to be all along.
My first threesome didn't go the way I thought threesomes went. The combinations, I thought, were always two guys fucking a woman in every way she could handle, but that's not at all what happened with us. The whole thing was a surprise, in so many ways.
I have a friend, Eileen, and she has the dirtiest mind and mouth of any person I know, certainly of any woman in our church choir. (If you only knew what we talked about between hymns...) Eileen is in her early fifties, widowed. She's in very good health, but if she had a girlish figure, it was long gone when I met her six years ago. She's rounder than any woman wants to be, but she's just a little chubby. Bill, in fact, always comments about Eileen being hotter than she thinks she is. When I told him how filthy Eileen's mind and mouth are, I noticed he started to spend more time talking to her whenever we all got together. Now and then I joke about being jealous, and he is very forthright. "I'd fuck her in a McDonald's bathroom if she said 'yes,'" he told me. (That's higher praise than you know; he's a Burger King man.)
I told him Eileen was all talk. I never knew her hubby, but in the time I've known her she has never had a date or even come close. I guess the free talk excites her as much as she needs to be excited. I told Bill to let it go. He had plenty of others anyway. Then one day he started calling her 'Mt. Eileen.' He's not Catholic, or anything. I corrected him. "Do you mean St. Eileen."
"No. Mt. Eileen. She's my mountain. I have to climb her.
"Why?"
"Because she's there."
He bet me it would happen. I played along. (I had never made a bet in my life. I'm forty.) I asked what happened if I lost. "Gang bang. No argument."
"And if I win?"
"You won't."
One Saturday after choir rehearsal, Eileen came to Bill's room with me. I was getting my overnight bag and going home. She and I were going to share a cab. When he heard me come in, he came out of the room, naked, to surprise me. Eileen screamed. I laughed. Bill respectfully ducked back into the bedroom. Her hands were covering her face and she had spun her back to him, and she was facing me. When she heard his voice come from the bedroom—"Sorry!"—she turned around again. I didn't know what she would do, but she laughed. I was relieved.
"I'll get dressed," Bill yelled from the bedroom.
Then Eileen surprised me even more. She walked over to me and whispered. "He has a big cock!" She was trying to hide her nervous, little girl laughter. I giggled. I told her to peek inside. She blushed. Then I pushed her toward the bedroom door. She wouldn't go there. The door opened. Bill saw what I was doing. He stood in the doorway and put both hand behind his head, doing a stripper hip wiggle. "Is Eileen coming for me?"
Now she was really embarrassed. Bill never let her off the hook. "Oh... Or did I have it wrong? Is my dick too small for Eileen?"
That made her laugh, but she still had her back to him. Then Bill went for the kill.
"Helen, come see if it's too small. Eileen is making me feel bad about myself."
I said sure, and walked over to him. He held out the waist of his pants and said, "Take a look in there." I did, and all the while his eyes were on Eileen, because he knew... knew she would look to see if I really was staring into his pants. When she did, that was all he needed.
"Want to look, too? Helen won't mind."
"I told her that before."
"When?"
"When I told her what we do. Hahahahaha!"
He was looking at her. She was nervous. When she didn't come to him, he went to her, except while he moved slowly toward her, he opened his pants. She turned away, but he was in charge now. "Uh-uh... Have a look. Look at it."
She looked. He let it hang long and loose, probably the thickest, heaviest meat she had ever seen. She was staring down at it when he stopped, very close in front of her. He reached for her hand and she let him have it. He didn't have to make her fingers wrap around it. She held it and bit her bottom lip.
"Come here, Helen."
I did what he told me to do. "Get down." I did, on my knees. Eileen said no. "Shhh!" he said. He turned to me, his cock springing out of Eileen's hand. "Lube it." When he said that, I went crazy on his cock. We have several code phrases for how he likes me to blow him. 'Lube it' means fast and extremely wet. That's his favorite, me bobbing up and down, really fast, with lots of hand motion with all that saliva on his shaft. I was feasting on him and barely heard the soft sigh come from Eileen's mouth. He had reached out and rubbed one of her tits. She looked nervous.
"I think you are so fucking hot, Eileen. HOT!" he said. Then he pulled her close and kissed her while I kept lubing his big hard dick. I didn't see, but he told me later how hard and deep she kissed him. He was still rubbing a tit, and as soon as the kiss ended he reached for her shoulder and pushed her to the floor, to her knees. She complied.
"Helen, share."
I stopped.
"Suck it, Eileen, any way you want to!"
She didn't hesitate. She lubed him, just as I did. There was no fucking that day, just two women on a floor sucking on a big, fat, white dick. Bill kept talking to us, keeping the atmosphere hot and sexy. It was no surprise Eileen's mouth got tired fast. Bill sat on the sofa, Eileen beside him. They kissed and he sucked her tits as I finished him off. She and I never kissed or even touched. When he was about to cum, he ordered her back to the floor. He asked if she wanted to share the load. She did.
"Helen, get off it. I'm cumming! GO EILEEN!"
That old woman slurped down every fucking drop he fed her. "OH, FUCK! I BET IT'S BEEN A WHILE, BABY!! GO FOR IT!!" When he said that, she grabbed it and really went to work. She made sure it was all hers. (He eats ice cream and pineapples whenever we spend weekends together. Makes his cum taste AMAZING! I never asked her, but I could tell she loved it, too.)
She lapped it all up, and as soon as she was done, she sat on the floor and laughed. I did, too. Bill excused himself to go wash up. "You can never..." she began.
"I'll never tell," I cut her off.
And that was that, my first threesome, even if it wasn't a three-way fuck. But in the cab after, I thought of nothing else except the fact I had had sex with two people. I felt like a grown-up... at forty, four fucking decades into my life, and I was starting to feel free and mature.
Bill wasn't back in town for another month. I didn't meet any other guys over that time. I got a text from him. 'Same hotel. 904. Ten o'clock. Bring a bag.' YES!! For most of my life, sex was a mystery. As a married woman, it had been a chore. But now, it had been almost a year since I had gone more than two weeks without a rollicking hard fuck. A month was an eternity to me now. I looked at my watch. Noon. Ten hours couldn't go by fast enough...
As a joke, I sent Eileen a text when I was in the taxi. 'Want to join us? Bring a bag, slut!' All she sent me was 'Enjoy Mr. Sweet Cock!' I thought that was a joke, then thought it sounded vaguely jealous, and for a second I felt sorry for Eileen... but then remembered where I was and where I was going and why I was going there. Feeling bad for my friend could wait. My nipples were already swollen. I was a horny whore, and I could see the hotel out the taxi window.
When the door opened, I thought I had gone to the wrong room. A stranger stood before me.
"You're Helen, right?"
Not a stranger then. But...
"I'm Dan. Come on in. Bill left you a note."
'Dan,' if that was his real name, pointed to the dinner table that separated the kitchen area from the living room. I must not have moved for a while, because he said, "Come on in, it's okay." I stepped in and looked around for Bill.
"He's not here, but don't worry. It's okay, really. Read his note."
I did. Fucker.
