The Leaning Curve

It all followed from a late-night call that Mel took while I was in the shower. When I came out, I could see something had changed. "Tell me," I said.

"It was Celia. She says Rob has offered to baby-sit next time - if it would be OK with us if she came instead. She thinks she might be bi, and wants to find out."

"Seriously?"

"Yes." And then, carefully, "It changes things, doesn't it?"

In order to understand just how the situation would change, I need to go back and fill in the details of how our relationship with Robert had developed. Truthfully, it had exceeded our expectations. Rob told us he was the advertising manager for a large group of trade magazines, well enough paid for Celia to be a full time housewife and mother to their three children. We liked him instantly. He seemed very like us.

At the second meeting, after some promising flashing in the hotel lounge, Rob could hardly wait to get up to our room. He wanted to show us something. A picture of Celia. He had taken it with his mobile phone camera after promising his wife that he would delete it as soon as he had shown it to us. They are ultra careful in case their children get access to the phone.

Of course, we were pleased, even if discretion meant that we didn't see Celia's face. She was in bra and knickers, half reclining with one hand inside the waistband.

"Nice tits," said Mel. "Bigger than me."

"Don't be too modest," said Robert. "The way your nipples harden gets me going. I guess we all like a change."

"And Mark wouldn't mind getting his cock in between those," said Mel. Chance would be a fine thing, I thought, remembering the problems of their children.

Nevertheless, Rob had begun something that developed very satisfactorily. First, we agreed that he could take a picture of Mel and me in action for Celia to see, with the same promise that it would be deleted immediately afterwards. He chose doggy with me half in and half out, and we all approved the result.

The bonus came at the next meeting: I took along our camera and we all three took turns at taking pictures while we indulged in all the permutations we had enjoyed previously. The last shot showed Mel wiping our joint spunk from her tits with Celia's knickers.

The deal was that any shots that showed faces would be wiped - we did that together before Rob left - but that Mel and I could transfer the rest to the computer at home for our future pleasure. I have to say, there was a lot of that, and the fucking it led to was intense and imaginative. The great thing was the developing trust: we knew we had no intention of letting any photos be seen except by the three of us, and Rob believed that to be true.

In the way that one thing led to another, Mel took the initiative by suggesting we surely now knew Rob well enough that we could abandon the hotel and invite him to our home. We would have more freedom there, she argued, and could share the photos, too.

I had no problem with that. In fact, I had become a little worried about the preliminaries in the lounge. There had been one session when the two of them got carried away to the point that Rob had his cock out while Mel removed her knickers and passed them to him quite openly. Fortunately, no one walked in at the crucial moment but it made me feel we were getting a bit too bold in our pursuit of the original idea.

Admittedly, we were more than thirty miles from home but not outside commuting distance for some of Mel's pupils - or the parents she met on open nights. There was also the possibility of one of Rob's contacts turning up by chance.

Anyway, not for the first time, Mel's suggestion was inspired. Rob arrived and I had hardly poured him a drink before Mel took his hand and led him upstairs. As she does with me, she went first, knowing that a short skirt did nothing to hide her knickers from the view below. Wardrobe at home was more revealing than anything she dared wear at the hotel.

I've already explained how big a part knicker fetish would play, and how happy Mel was to indulge it (Celia, too, it had transpired). It had been clear from the very first meeting that Rob would share my delight in sexy silk across a tight arse or pressed into the crevice at the front. Or wrapped around a needy dick.

On this occasion, we had laid out on the bed a selection of the knickers I liked best. While Rob was shedding his clothes, Mel held out each pair and invited him to choose. He went for lilac green French knickers. Mel - who was already down to basics herself - stepped out of black and into green.

Rob's next request was for her to bend over, resting her arms on a chair while I stood behind her and rubbed my cock against the fabric covering her buttocks. It worked for me, and it worked for Rob: he gathered a blue pair from the bed and wrapped them round his shaft while he watched my cock slide up and down.

The spanking that followed was also less inhibited than we had felt inclined to risk at the hotel. After the third resounding slap, Rob was anxious. "Is this good for Mel?" he asked.

She answered for herself. "Don't worry. It sets my juices flowing. And we'll stop soon. We want you to see the photos."

Once Mel had taken her spanking and been released from my lap, we all sat together on the edge of the bed. I had my laptop set up to provide a wi-fi slide show to the big TV screen on the facing wall. We do sometimes watch Newsnight while in bed, or maybe a movie. Porn, too, of course - our favourite overture to our own performance.

Now, as the screen came to life, the first shot was of Mel's arse, black knickers, bent over. It elicited a little gasp from Rob, remembering the occasion - "Oh, yes." - and his hand flew to his dick. By the time of the dissolve into a shot of Mel's mouth wrapped salaciously round my knob, he was erect and working hard at maintaining it. He had retrieved the green knickers, which were clearly helping. Then he realised that by looking to his left he could see the real Mel mirroring the screen.

I had set the slide show to its slowest rate. There were twenty-seven photos. As each one appeared, Mel and I followed its example. Whatever Mel and I did on the screen - sucking, fingering, sixty-nining, fucking, me on top, then Mel riding me with one hand on her clit and the other tweaking a nipple - Mel and I did on the bed.

Some idea of how successful this was can be understood if I say we were on shot twenty-three the second time around (a vigorous doggy) when Rob couldn't hold it any longer and shot into the green knickers. That triggered me. In the next photo I was in Mel's mouth, and that's how it ended.

Later, having sent Rob happily on his way to report to Celia, we reflected on a very successful session. I was aware that, at the end, Melissa hadn't come, but we were planning to rectify that shortly. First, I had a question for my wife. "When we were all getting carried away, you had your eyes close while I was piling into you."

"Yes, and very good it was, too."

"But I did just wonder if you were thinking about how it might be if wasn't my cock, but Rob's"

Mel thought for a while before answering. "If I'm honest, I can't say that it was in my mind at that moment. But if not, then at some other time. Yes."

"What would you have done if I had offered the possibility?"

"Nothing. You know that. If we haven't agreed beforehand, nothing happens."

"But suppose I say now, it would be OK next time?"

"It would still depend."

"On?"

"On whether it was something you could cope with. Whether it would be good for you to watch. Good for both of us."

"I've ben thinking about it."

"So have I."

"And?"

"I think it might happen. But not yet. It's too soon for all of us."

"If you think so, you know I trust your instincts."

"But," said Mel, "there might be a compromise."

I was immediately alert. Mel didn't say such things lightly. "Such as?"

"Suppose next time, you have me from behind. Rob is in front of me, watching and wanking in a pair of my knickers."

Easy to picture. We've been there. "Yes."

"But then I ask him to drop the knickers and offer me his cock."

"In your mouth?"

"Yes."

I didn't need to answer. Mel put her hand on my cock and knew what I was thinking.

"Is that a serious idea for next time?" I asked.

"Maybe. But you can see where that leads. You and Rob switch places, and now I'm being fucked by Rob. Are you ready for that?"

Before I could answer, Mel went on, "Anyway, it isn't our decision, really. Remember, Celia sends Rob here knowing that the rules are - look but don't touch."

"Tricky."

"Well, there's only one way to find out. Next time Celia rings, I'll ask her."

"What's your guess?"

"I just don't know. We'll have to wait. Meanwhile, I have a suggestion."

"Tell me."

"If I lie on my back and open my legs, do you think you could fuck me?"

I thought I could and I did.

***********************************

Waiting for the call from Celia was a different matter. It was five days, and we began to wonder whether we would feel confident enough to ask Celia how she would feel about Mel sucking her husband's cock. In the event, we never got around to asking. When the call came, Celia couldn't wait to ask her own question.

"Robert has offered to baby-sit next time - if it would be OK with both of you I could come instead. I think I might ... might be bi. I mean, I just don't know. Anyway, maybe I could find out. Would that be all right with you?"

So this was how things had changed. We had set out with one objective - to find a female third party for sex. When that failed, we had sought a male voyeur. When we found one, that relationship had moved on to the point where we were ready to accept him as a participant. Only to discover that his wife might be the solution to our original idea.

As things turned out, we had plenty of time to talk about it. At Ron and Celia's end, Rebecca, their daughter, was coming up to school exams, with all the tension that goes with that difficult phase of adolescence. Not a time for Celia to be finding an excuse to have a night out. As for me, I had just taken a lease on a new set of offices. Business was good, I needed to make room for more staff. But the new premises had to be altered, a kitchen and extra toilet installed, redecoration, a whole raft of things that often kept me there after hours.

There was frustration on both sides, but we also knew that sooner or later it would happen. In the meantime there were at least regular late night calls from Celia. Over long chats with Mel an interesting picture emerged - and with it an eventual solution.

This now needs to become Celia's story. This is how she she told it to Mel, and then Mel told it to me. I have had to invent the words as they were spoken at the time but Mel says this is close enough.

***********************************

"There was a time," Celia said, "when I despaired of ever making things work. I even wondered if it was a mistake to have contacted you at all. But when Robert came home after the first time, it did seem so exciting, something to stop us getting into a rut. Sex had always been important for us but after the children began to get older we had to change. I didn't really think Rob would be unfaithful, but I could have kind of understood if he got bored with routine. Letting him meet you, and only to look, seemed worth trying. And when he came home and wanted to ... "

"Fuck," said Mel.

"Is that all right? Rob says you aren't upset by that word."

"Nor others. Not at the right time. It turns me on."

"Me, too, but I didn't want to get it wrong."

"You were saying that Rob came home from seeing us and the first thing he wanted to do was fuck."

"Not just fuck. It was like turning the clock back. He couldn't get into me fast enough. But he's always been careful to make it good for me, so there was a lot of foreplay. He's big - well, you know that."

"Yes," Mel said, remembering.

"Anyway, it didn't take much to get me ready. And - well, it was just the most marvelous fuck. The best we'd had for ages. So we knew we had to go on, even if it was a bit second hand for me.

"With the children it couldn't be any other way. Rebecca will soon be sixteen. She and I have always been close and that's good in one way because we have gradually been able to talk about sex, though only, of course, in general terms, in theory. Fortunately, we live in good area and the local mums keep in touch. If there are any signs of a bad group developing, we can deal with it. No sleepovers, for example. And our computer has more firewalls than the Pentagon.

"But, of course, we don't know what the kids talk about among themselves. I mean, Rebecca is getting pubic hair, so what does she think when she asks to share the bathroom for two minutes and sees that I've shaved? She doesn't ask, and I don't offer. . There'll be plenty of time for her to enjoy what comes later. Soon we'll have to cope with the boys and their grubby little minds. Well, Rob can deal with them.

"But like any other teenager, Rebecca's at an age where she wants to know if she can raid my wardrobe. Before I agree, I go through my knicker drawer and remove all of Rob's favourites. I keep two or three - the ones Rob uses with you - hidden in the bottom of the linen cupboard. The rest are in a locked suitcase in the attic, with my vibrator and the magazines Rob and I used to find arousing. Oh well," she sighed, "one day they'll come out again."

"But you think you might have found a way to escape to see us?" Mel asked.

"Thanks to my mother, would you believe? We've always been close, Mum and I, and since my father died from a completely unexpected heart attack five years ago I've taken to visiting her for lunch every Friday.

"Mum and Dad were both academics. They met as undergraduates, drifted apart for a while but then ended up at the same University on Fellowships and got married. Lived there ever since.

"Anyway, Mum always ask about the children - and about Robert. She can be quite direct - everything all right between you two, that sort of thing. Well, this time she must have sensed something in the way I answered. And when she pressed, I just suddenly blurted it all out - about you and Mark, and letting Roberto go."

"How did she take that?"

"In her stride. Much better to know where he was and what he was up to, was Mum's view. And then she surprised me by saying it was tame by comparison with what she and Dad used to enjoy. Academia, she said, was a hot bed - literally. Not the City, where people work all hours, knock back champagne and fall into bed exhausted. Academics spend eight hours a day nurturing the intellect, and can't wait to do the same for the libido. Threesomes, foursomes, groups - anything that took your fancy. How it didn't get into the papers was a mystery.

"She was interested, though, in my wanting to explore bi. She thinks it's a generation thing. She said there was a certain amount of woman-on-woman when she and Dad were part of the scene but it was very minor. But she didn't discourage me - that's not Mum's style. What she did say was she thought we were lucky with our Melissa and Mark, so why not see where it leads. Just be sure we can stop when we want to.

"When I pointed out it hadn't led anywhere yet for me, she said straight away that mustn't be a problem. She thought it was clever that we tell the children Rob goes to play bridge on his evenings out. Chess might have interested the young, but bridge is boring. No awkward questions.

"As for me, she had a simple suggestion. When it suits, just change Friday lunch to a Friday dinner party; now Dad isn't around I could be making up the numbers. When I pointed out the kids might want to know if Nan had any news, she said - make something up. She wouldn't want them to know what she does on Friday nights. Because, she said, that's the night one or other of her men come round. And not for supper.

"Of course, it was my turn to ask and she wasn't the least embarrassed to tell. Seems she has two men, both married - so she doesn't have to wash their socks or iron their shirts - they come round, she says, because she gives them what their wives don't. More than that, she wouldn't tell me. She said I wouldn't be surprised to learn that other people were spicing up their sex lives, why should I be surprised if that included my parents? Mum was getting fucked regularly and she saw no reason why I shouldn't have a bit of fun, too.

"Her last words as I left that day were to encourage me to agree a date a.s.a.p and just let her know when I needed an alibi."

*********************************** A week would seem a long time but we saw we would have to wait until the following Friday. And that turned out to be wishful thinking. That day was to be the last in my existing office set-up. The removal men were booked for eight o'clock Monday morning. The problem was completing the work at the new premises.

My heart sank on the Wednesday when the foreman came to me to say that they would be finished in time as promised, but they would have to put in some extra hours. His lads were a good bunch (as I had to acknowledge) and he didn't want to ask them to give up a whole week-end. But if they could work until ten on Friday and all day Saturday, he could guarantee to deliver.

All I could do was accept, knowing that on the Friday my insurance policy would require me to be there at ten to lock up and set the alarms. No use calling on the alibi. I broke the news to a bitterly disappointed Melissa who was able to pass it on when Celia rang that night. Frustration all round, but nothing could be done.

So it came about that on Frustration Friday I arrived home at about ten thirty and had hardly poured myself a drink before the mobile rang. It could only be Celia or Robert. Mel answered, and it was Celia.

I took my drink to the bedroom where I removed jacket, tie and shoes, and then to the bathroom while I washed off the day's dust. Feeling somewhat more human, I returned downstairs.

Mel was still deep in conversation with Celia. As I tuned in it was apparent the two women had got over sympathising with each other over the postponement. Of course, I could only hear our end of the chat, but it was interesting.

"What now? ... Really? ... I take it the children are safely asleep then ... Who started it ... Rob? ... But you're obviously not complaining ... Mark? Yes, he's here ... We can try ... why not?"

Mel waved me to sit beside her on the sofa and opened her legs. It didn't take me long to get the message. Celia and Rob were getting turned on at their end, and this was an invitation for us to join in. I slid my hand up Mel's skirt, cool flesh at the top of the thighs, then a moist knicker gusset to ease aside.

Mel speaking again. "Yes, he is now ... How about you ... Good ... Oh, that's even better ... Don't let him stop ... Ohhh."

My fingers had found their way into slippery warm flesh and Mel's reaction told the story.

"How is it now? ... Can you ... will you fuck afterwards ... yes, we'll have to ... go on, do it for me Celia ..."

By now I had located a distended clit and was giving it the attention it needed. Mel's legs were wide apart and she was pushing herself on to my fingers. Conversation on the phones had changed at our end from words to sighs and moans. I guessed it was much the same from Celia.

Mel came more noisily than usual, I believe to help Celia with her own orgasm. It seemed to work. Phone sex for four. Anyway, there were kisses down the phone and a promise that nothing would come between them next Friday. Personally, I was hoping that at some point that night I would come between them, but I kept the thought to myself. For her part, Mel kept to her word and asked to be fucked. It turned out I wasn't as tired as I thought.