Writer's Note: This is a story for adults over eighteen years of age about adults over eighteen years of age. While the storyline is true, the dialog has been compressed for the sake of time and space. Safe sex was not an issue in the early sixties and seventies but should be a concern for everyone today.
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It was a typical Saturday morning in December with temperatures hovering around the high seventies, very humid, with a breeze blowing off the gulf to make life along Florida's west coast more bearable. I was delivering my lawn mowing crews around the retirement community about thirty miles north of Tampa. My crews were high school students who liked the opportunity to make money by working a few days a week. I paid them more than the minimum wage and they didn't have to spend their weekend nights flipping burgers at Fat's Burgers and Shakes. It was a win, win for everyone; I made money to get me through grad school and the kids made spending money.
I drove through the neighborhood slowly keeping a watch out for the older seniors in their golf carts who would carelessly pull out into traffic without looking or stop in the middle of the street to say hello to friends. I saw Dave and Anna in front of their home waving as I passed. It looked like Dave was going to play golf, but more than likely he would spend most of his time in the bar at the clubhouse. Anna, Dave's beautiful wife, was wearing a short kaki skirt and halter top; her straw hat and gloves indicated that she was ready to work in her flower beds and on her deep, copper tan.
If you have read, As Luck Would Have It, my previous post, you already know how I met Dave and Anna and that I was very familiar with those areas beneath Anna's bikini that were still untouched by the rays of the Florida sun and lacked the deep, copper tan of her exposed skin. Within a few hours of our meeting, Anna and I consummated our relationship in the front seat of Dave's Buick Roadmaster and began a long-term , lust charged adventure; an adventure that included a wide variety of locations and people.
After dropping off the work crews, I headed out of the subdivision via Dave and Anna's; if Dave was gone to play golf, I could stop by and see Anna. She just might need me to help her on the flower beds as she worked in her short skirt or she might need me to rub some suntan lotion on her shoulders and legs.
As I turned onto their street, I noticed the flashing red lights of an ambulance up ahead; as I hurried closer I could tell that it was in their driveway. I pulled alongside the curb just as EMT's were removing a sheet covered gurney from the house; judging by the size of the person beneath the sheet, it could only have been Dave on the gurney.
I walked into the house, Anna let out a wail and rushed into my arms, "It's Dave; he's dead, Will." I held her close and tried to console her as she sobbed.
A few minutes after the ambulance quietly left, the people who had gathered outside dispersed and went about their business. I walked over and closed the front door then returned to Anna and wrapped her in my arms.
"Is there anyone you want me to call for you? Anything I can do for you?"
"No, just hold me, please," that was an easy request.
Many times since our first encounter in Dave's Buick Roadmaster six months earlier, I had held her in my arms; her soft, curvaceous body pressing against me. Anna's heart may have been mourning, but her body was yearning. She was still dressed in the short, kaki skirt and halter top she was wearing earlier when she and Dave waved at me as I passed by.
"Let's move into the kitchen in case someone walks onto the front porch," I told her.
The six months since we first met wasn't really that long ago, but during that time we had logged many Saturday or Sunday afternoons together, usually at my house. We did not exclude Dave either; the three of us got together at least once a week for one of Anna's delicious Italian meals or we traveled to Tampa for a dinner out. This often gave us the opportunity for some under the table fun or kitchen play while we waited for him to turn in.
I made the mistake of telling Anna about the married woman who used to sneak me into her bathroom through the window for some soapy fun while her husband was busy watching television (See: Homemade Pie). That gave her the idea of sneaking me into her bedroom since it was at opposite ends of the house from Dave's room. We enjoyed it a few times, but parking my car a block away and walking to their house then having to get up before dawn and walk back to my car got to be a bit too much, but we had fun for awhile.
Our relationship was strictly sexual and we both had very active libidos. Anna had already experienced much of the sexual exploration of the sixties and was a willing and sexually charged partner; I had not had that much sex with one partner since my divorce from Marlene two years earlier. We were by no means exclusive partners and, also, enjoyed sharing our stories about our other experiences.
A few weeks after we met, we had our first experience with multiple partners. It happened purely by accident when we were spending a Saturday afternoon together at my house. We were sprawled out on a comforter on the floor of the den completely naked recovering from one of our marathon fucking sessions; the sliding door to the patio was open to let a cool breeze flow through the house.
All of a sudden the screen door opened and we immediately heard, "Oh my goodness, I'm sorry; I didn't know you had company."
The tall, shapely, forty-something woman standing in the doorway was a friend, lover, and former co-worker where I used to teach. Her name was Casey; she was a somewhat attractive woman with a slightly masculine style she called her tomboy look. She was dressed in a pair of cutoff, bib overalls that displayed her long, tan legs and a skimpy tank top that showed off the sides of her ample breasts. The sides of her overalls were unbuttoned exposing her tanned torso down to the top of her hip hugger panties. Her dirty blonde hair was parted on the left side and combed over much like a man's style
With a smile from ear to ear, she looked at Anna trying to cover herself with cushions from the sofa, "Darlin' I'm sorry I embarrassed; I should go."
As she was about to turn to leave, I said, "Or you could just come in and join us."
Casey quickly smiled and stepped closer; she looked at Anna, "Is that what you would like dear?"
Anna smiled and stood up, "Yes, of course; I'm sorry I reacted that way, I was just startled for a moment. Please join us."
"Well then, you will have to help me get out of these clothes."
I did the introduction as Anna unfastened the cutoff, bib overalls and let them slide to the floor. Casey quickly lifted her skimpy tank top over her head, leaving Anna with the task of removing the white cotton, hip hugger, bikini panties with a tiny pink bow on the elastic band. The elastic band spanned from hip to hip almost without touching her flat tummy except at the center beneath her belly button. Her flat tummy made her pubic mound appear more prominent.
Without hesitation, Anna's hands slipped under the elastic and slid the delicate garment over Casey's curvy hips and bottom . She knelt down to slide them down the long shapely legs; her face was just inches away from the downy soft, light brown patch of pubic hair and Casey's partially hidden treasure. Once Casey stepped out of the garment, Anna, knowing my proclivity for enjoying the aroma of such garments, handed them to me.
I don't think I need to go into great detail about all the possibilities of enjoying the company of two shapely, sexy, naked women on the floor of my den. I can assure you that we each completely enjoyed all the possible ways a man and two women can have and give pleasure to each other; let your imagination run wild and you will probably get the picture. By late afternoon, we were all completely sated and in need of a respite.
As we rested and sipped wine, Casey told Anna about her first threesome with my wife, Marlene and I; that led to Anna telling us about her first bi-experience with a young woman who came to her door selling encyclopedias. Of course, I had to add the story of Anna and me in Dave's Buick.
It would be impossible to tell you about all the adventures that Anna and I experienced in the span of six months in anything less than a very thick book about the size of War and Peace. We wondered if Dave knew what was going on and didn't care, or if he was just oblivious to our antics. Either way, we had fun and enjoyed ourselves, and others, immensely.
On the fateful day of Dave's passing, it was almost noon when I left Anna to pick up my mowing crews and head back to town to drop them off. Once I returned, we picked up where we had left off, in the kitchen with Anna's skirt pushed up, the crotch of her panties pushed to the side, slowly riding my shaft as tears streamed down her face. I guess it's true that everyone mourns differently. As the news spread, friends and neighbors stopped by to offer their condolences and leave food.
Anna and I had spent most of Sunday packing up clothes and personal items in the master bedroom where Dave had slept alone for the past ten years or so; I moved boxes of his belongings into the garage to be picked up by the Salvation Army later in the week. The master bedroom took on a more feminine look and aroma as we moved Anna's clothes and furnishings from the room that had once been their daughter's before she left for college. Of course, we also found time to enjoy each other's company as we worked.
Anna and I were up early Monday morning. We enjoyed a playful shower together with soapy hands gliding over each other's bodies; we had to get dressed before the mortuary delivered Dave's casket for the wake.
After our shower, Anna smiled at me and gave me a delicious kiss before she began fixing her wavy, coal black, shoulder-length hair. As her arms moved about to brush and style her hair, her grapefruit sized breasts jiggled and swayed; her half-dollar sized, light brown areola and long, thick nipples danced in front of the mirror. By the time she finished her makeup, I had an erection as stiff as a wrecking bar.
