He Couldnt Say No Ch 07

While we were having our post round beers in the 19

th

hole today one of my buddies was telling us about a couple he knew who had an open marriage. It wasn't one of these cuckold deals you see on the internet where the husband gets off on the idea of some big black stud doing his wife. This was just a couple that honestly felt each should have the freedom to occasionally screw someone else. They still lived together and claimed to be very much in love. But their definition of love didn't include the constraint of monogamy.

All three of my buddies were outraged by the idea. They weren't so offended by a husband that steps out occasionally, but a wife—no that was an idea beyond all notions of decency. After a couple of beers they really got into it with all sorts of chest thumping about how they would get revenge if their wives ever did such a thing. To be fair too them, my friends are generally pretty good guys, but they can be Neanderthals about a few issues.

I guess they didn't notice that I was unusually quiet. I had a good deal more up close and personal experience with open marriages, but I saw no reason to share it with them, so I just kept my mouth shut and they were so busy beating their chests, they didn't notice my uncharacteristic silence. I should be clear about this. None of my marriages were open marriages by any definition of the term. Admittedly I was a serial philanderer in each of the marriages, but, so far as I know, none of my spouses strayed, and we certainly didn't have an agreement permitting either of us to fool around with impunity. I have three divorces to prove it.

But, given my inability to say no, I have had affairs with several women who were participants in such a relationship. Which was the most memorable one? Probably the Orinda Soccer Moms Club (and yes, there were several marriages involved).

The Orinda Soccer Moms Club consisted of three women who had certain things in common. They were all in their early to mid-thirties; all three were reasonably attractive, not movie star grade mind you, but still attractive; all three loved to fuck men (and women) they weren't married to (in addition to their spouses), which kind of made them sluts; and they didn't look the part at all. In appearance they were classic young-ish suburban stay at home moms (all three had at least a couple of children). Oh, and all three had negotiated an open marriage arrangement with their spouses. The Orinda Soccer Moms Club was a name I gave them. They loved it. They loved my dick too.

Of course I didn't know any of this when I met them. I had recently escaped from my second marriage (or perhaps I should say I had been ejected) and I was in Las Vegas for a tech conference. It had just ended and I had elected to stay over for an additional day or two, before I went home to the tiny apartment near SFO I had rented after my wife got our house in Menlo Park.

It was Saturday evening and I was sitting with my back to a bar in one of the big casinos watching the people wandering through the gaming floor. I don't like to gamble myself, but I don't know of a better place to watch people than on the gaming floor of a casino. There were three gals were lined up at the bar next to me—a blonde and two brunettes. They were chattering away about where they were going to meet men. I sat, nursing a scotch and listening. I was surprised to learn that they were all from Orinda, another Bay Area suburb near where I had grown up. They had togged out a bit for their trip to Vegas, but they didn't look like hookers or some of the women you see in Vegas that are so slutty looking—just nicely dressed suburban housewives. I just kept my mouth shut and listened. It became clear that they were on a girls' weekend out and all three had received what they called a "hall pass" from their husbands. Now their challenge was to find a man or men to take advantage of their hall pass.

After listening for a while, I turned sideways and said to the blonde sitting next to me, "I couldn't help hearing you're from Orinda. I grew up near there, Walnut Creek, but I live across the Bay now." I didn't want them to think I was a neighbor that might bring stories back home. After all, what goes on in Vegas, stays in Vegas, as they say.

"Really," she said. "It's a small world." She and I chatted for a few minutes, just letting each other know basic things like names (Andrew and Sarah) and occupations (software salesman and stay at home mom).

"Can I buy you another drink?" I had noticed that her drink was empty.

"I'd love too, but I'm here with my friends and we . . . "

"No problem. They look like they could use another drink too. Let's get another round and move to a table. Her friends were listening, and they nodded in agreement. Soon we were at a table with a fresh round in front of us and we were repeating the names and occupations drill (Janey and Sally, both stay at home moms like Sarah).

As we worked our way through our second drink I learned that all three had children (Sally two in 2

nd

and 4

th

grades; Janey three in 1

st

, 4

th

and 6

th

grades; and Sarah two in 3

rd

and 5th grades); they had met when they were sorority sisters in college (Alpha Phi at Cal); and all three had worked until children came along. Their husbands, who they had met in college, were all either bankers or lawyers in the City (I couldn't keep track of which was which) and they had all grown up in Sacramento, about the same time I was growing up in Walnut creek. Oh and they all had been members of each others' wedding parties.

By this time were well into our third drink. Sarah leaned over and asked, "What about you Andrew. What's your history?"

I gave the expurgated version. I confessed to my two divorces, but I left out the more sordid details (especially Lisa and Mrs. E. and their complicated relationships with my parents). After explaining about the Tech Conference I had attended, I asked, "So what brings you girls to Vegas?"

"Oh it's just a girls weekend out," Janey said.

"Yes," Sally jumped in. "Our dear sweet husbands told us to take our credit cards and go to Vegas for a weekend of fun while they went down to Carmel for golf."

"I see", I said. "I heard someone mention a 'hall pass.' What's that about?"

Sarah blushed and said, "Oops, you weren't supposed to hear that."

"Oh come, come Andrew," Sally said. "After two divorces you must know what a 'hall pass' is."

"Well, if means what I think it means, I've never had one . . ."

"Which is why you've been divorced twice?" Sarah asked.

Now it was my turn to blush. "Well, I guess that's right. You see my problem is that I just can't say no."

All three girls laughed. Then they sat in silence looking at me like an item on a desert tray.

Sarah leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Do you have a big dick, Andrew." She had a hand on my thigh that was quickly working its way up.

I looked at her trying to decide how to respond. Her hand was in my lap now, massaging my dick which was rapidly becoming a much larger dick than it had been.

"Well?" she asked.

"Some people have said I do. It's not something I advertise."

This brought the other two to life.

"What," said Sally. "What do people say you do?"

"Yeah. What is it you do?" echoed Janey.

Sarah was massaging my dick with enthusiasm now. "It's not what he does. It's what he has," she said. "I asked him if he has a big dick. And it appears to me that he does."

"Ohh! You slut Sarah!" Sally exclaimed in mock outrage.

"Don't pick on her," Janey said. "If you'd been sitting next to him, you would have had your hand inside his pants by now. You've always been a bigger slut than Sarah."

Sarah laughed. "It's true Sally, but don't let her get too you. She is just as bad as you are. I'm the modest one in this group. I was still a virgin when I met the two of you." Her dick massage didn't feel particularly modest to me, but apparently, she had caught up with her friends.

Finally I spoke up. "Now, now ladies. Let's not be throwing insults like 'slut' around. Such a tacky word, except when you are in sexual stress. Then I find it very effective with some women.

"Sexual stress?" asked Janey. "What does that mean?"

"It means you're about to cum," Sarah answered.

"Oh yeah sure," she giggled. "I do like to talk dirty when I'm . . . well you know. I'm . . . "

"In sexual stress", the other two girls said in harmony. "We know," said Sarah. "We've heard you," said Sally. "And you're loud too."

Janey shrugged her shoulders. "I am what I am."

Meanwhile Sarah was continuing a marvelous job of massaging my cock.

"You know ladies, I think you are all wrong. You don't any of you look like sluts to me . . ."

"We can remedy that," Janey interrupted.

"Okay, that would be nice. As I've told you I don't say no to attractive ladies, but I wanted to tell you that you look like 'soccer moms' to me.

"Soccer moms?" they all three said, not exactly in harmony. "How can we be soccer moms. We swap husbands, we screw other men," Sarah asked.

"And women," Janey added.

"Speak for yourself," Sarah said.

"Oh have you forgotten last weekend. I had you screaming."

"Ahh . . . yes . . . well, I had too much to drink," Sarah said with a pout.

The other two laughed at her protestation of innocence.

"And we even get together on Thursday afternoons and masturbate, you know before the kiddies get home from school," Sarah said, apparently abandoning her innocence.

"Blabber mouth," Janey responded.

"If you had your hands on a cock as big as I think this one is, you would be blabbering too. Actually, I think you would be drooling."

"Ladies, ladies. I think we should adjourn to someone's room upstairs. And you really ought to think about this soccer mom idea. You guys are all stay at home moms with two or three kids that you are raising. I'll bet you don't dress slutty back in Orinda. Yup, you are definitely soccer moms. What you should do is just think of yourselves as the Orinda Soccer Moms Club.

"And now, I said continuing on before they could interrupt. "I think we should adjourn to someone's room upstairs. I will go to my room and get a bottle of Scotch one of the consultants gave me and meet you in a few minutes."

They all looked at each other in silence.

"Okay," I asked, "which room should I come to?"

"1157," responded Sarah. "I'll be there whether these two are or not. She gave my dick a squeeze as she rose from her chair and handed me her spare room key."

"Oh no you don't, Sarah," said Sally. "Count me in too."

"And me to," said Janey. They were all on their feet now.

"All right ladies, I'll see you in about 10 minutes. Room 1157." They walked off, and I stayed to cover the tab. I wasn't quite sure how I was going to fit it into my expense account, but I would figure that out later.

* * * * * *

Ten minutes later I knocked on the door to room 1157 and heard Sarah's voice respond. "Come in." I used the card key and walked in, a bottle of Scotch in hand. All three women were sitting in chairs with their legs demurely crossed, but completely naked.

"Do we still look like soccer moms?" Sally asked.

"Oh most definitely soccer moms. Being a soccer mom is about the way you live—stay at home mom, raising children. Your kids don't even have to participate in soccer for you to be soccer moms.

"Mine do," said Sarah raising her hand.

"Mine are swimmers," said Sally, her hand in the air.

"Lacrosse," said Janey, likewise raising her hand.

"And," I said, "A lot of good soccer moms are naked under the suburban housewife clothes they wear all day."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I've fucked a lot of them. Remember me—the no-hall-pass-two-divorce guy. Believe me there is nothing about being a soccer mom that prevents promiscuity, although the time demands may make it a bit more complicated occasionally."

"All right Sarah," Janey said, changing the subject. "Show us this big dick you've been bragging about."

Sarah stood and walked slowly toward me, swiveling her hips as she approached. She was tall and leggy, with long, thick, blonde hair that had escaped from the do she had it in downstairs and was now hanging down her back and over her shoulders to the top of her breasts. Her breasts were large and soft, clearly grown from nursing children. Her skin was a pale white and she had large swollen, light tan areolas, and slightly darker nipples. She was clearly aroused as her nipples were engorged. Her hips were broad and looked to be terribly comfortable to lie upon while fucking missionary. My dick had sagged a bit while I retrieved the Scotch, but it was recovering fast as I watched her approach.

She put her arms around my neck and kissed me—a long, sensuous, wet, kiss with lots of tongue that I returned with enthusiasm. I let my hands slide down to her hips and then cupped her ass and pulled her in tight against me.

When she broke the kiss she looked back over her shoulder and said to her friends, "He can kiss too."

"Show us the dick," Sally responded.

Janey laughed. "Let her be. She'll get there."

Sarah slowly undressed me as I stood in the center of the room with the other two girls watching. When I was completely naked she dropped to her knees before me and sucked my cock into her mouth, or at least as much of it as she could fit in her mouth. The remainder she was stroking with both hands using saliva she was spilling and a two handed twisting motion that was divine.

As Sally and Janey watched Sarah undress me and suck my cock, they began to play with their tits and to caress their sex. I had noticed that all three ladies had recently completed a quality Brazilian wax job. Probably their first stop in Las Vegas. Naked really meant naked with these girls.

Eventually, satisfied that she had gotten me fully aroused, Sarah sat back on her haunches and let the girls have a clear view of my cock. It was as hard as iron and sticking straight out from my groin. "Now tell me ladies," she said, "is that a big cock or what?"

"Fuck yes," Sally whispered.

"God it's beautiful," said Janey.

Then they were all three on their knees before me taking turns licking and sucking on my cock and my balls. The experience was marvelous. I had never had three women work me over like this, but I was concerned that if it continued for very long, I would lose control and cum well before I should.

"Ladies, ladies," I said. "This is marvelous, but perhaps we should move to that very large bed and let me show you what else this cock is useful for." Okay, it was a little egotistical sounding on my part, but they didn't seem to be offended.

They all sat back on their haunches looking up at me.

Sarah spoke up first. "Janey. Sally. You know what this means. It's time for you two to leave."

"What?" I said. "Wait a minute. I didn't mean to . . ."

"Oh you didn't do anything," Sally said. "We drew straws and Sarah won. I get you tomorrow night, and Janey gets whatever is left of you on Monday night." She was grinning.

"Really? That's what you did."

They all nodded.

"Do I have any say in this?"

"No, not really," Sarah said. "We are kind of an all or nothing deal. Like the Three Musketeers, only one at a time." I had read the Three Musketeers while I was in college. It was nothing like this, but this was no time to argue the finer points of literature.

"But, but my boss expects me to be back in Redwood City for a staff meeting on Monday morning."

"You can miss your staff meeting. He will understand, especially if you tell him why you had to stay over for a couple of days," Janey said sniggering.

"He's Mormon. He wouldn't understand."

Sally snorted. "The Mormons I knew when I lived in Salt Lake sure understood."

"Don't Mormons catch colds," Sally said. "Tell him you caught a cold."

Sarah stepped up to me and held my dick softly in her hand while she said to me, "You can do this, Andrew. Really you can. And trust me. We will make it worth your while." She slid her hand down the shaft of my cock and was fondling my balls as all three girls looked to me for an answer.

Once again, I failed to say no.

* * * * * *

As soon as I said okay, Janey and Sally got dressed and left. Each of them smiled and blew me a kiss as they walked out the door.

I turned and looked at Sarah who by this time was stretched out on the bed, her long legs spread lasciviously and her hands massaging her tits. "Andrew," she said. "There was a question I forgot to ask you while we were downstairs."

I was standing directly before her a hand slowly stroking my dick, which had stayed fully erect during this whole bizarre conversation.

"Yes?"

"Andrew, do you eat pussy?"

I smiled. "Only until you scream for mercy, and then I won't stop unless I think you really mean it."

"Oh yum. Then let's get started." She pulled her knees up and spread them widely while a hand descended to her pussy and spread her swollen lips in invitation to me.

I dropped to my knees between her legs and "dived in," so to speak. 45 minutes and three screaming climaxes later I decided she probably really meant it when she said she couldn't take any more.

"Unfucking believable," Sarah said, gasping from her last climax. "I never . . .nobody ever . . ." She took a long breath. "Where did you learn to eat pussy like that. And your tongue! Oh fuck if someone could just make a vibrator like that."

She was sort of sitting up, leaning back on her elbows as she looked at me, her eyes still a little glazed. Her legs were lewdly spread, and her pussy was swollen and glistening.

"There is one more question I forgot to ask you. How long would it take you to recover if I sucked and jacked that big cock of yours until you squirted your first load all over my tits?"

"Oh I don't know. Maybe ten minutes. Maybe half an hour. When I was 18 it would have just stayed hard."

"Oh my. You're even better than you look."

"I just try to please," I said.

"I need a break Andrew before we move on to the next round. So what I'm going to do is suck that big dick of yours until you squirt your first load all over my tits. Is that okay? I have to tell you Andrew, I just find it so sexy when some guy sprays his cum all over my tits. My husband thinks it makes me a little twisted. I'm not, am I?"

"Of course not. Your husband just doesn't understand because he doesn't have tits." I don't know where that idea came from, but it sounded good.

She had me sit in a big armchair, my butt slouched forward, so she could kneel in front of me and give me a blow job. And it was a magnificent blow job. She couldn't take it down her throat, but I don't really care one way or the other about that. She was just great about using all the parts of her mouth, her tongue, her lips, her hands, even her teeth and fingernails on my cock and balls in ways I had never imagined. She had a sixth sense for how close I was to cumming and would back off at just the right moment so she could keep me hanging on the ragged edge of cumming without losing me.