Aside from the kind of errors that creep in when remembering things that happened a long time ago, this is pretty much as it happened. Not that any of it was monumental in any way. The day just stands out in my mind as typical of a period in our lives when things were just really good and sexual possibilities seemed endless.
And of course, it's all very mild by today's standards. Back then there was no Internet so it wasn't easy to connect to other people with similar interests or even get any feedback on where you fell on the sexual spectrum. There was gay and straight, no shades of grey, no bi. Kink of any kind fell under the general heading of perversion. Even though to all appearances we looked like the well scrubbed couple next door, we thought of ourselves as outliers and took some pride in flaunting conventions while still managing to fly under the radar. Years later the big surprise would be in how typical we actually were.
My wife and I were in the middle of a relationship with a friend that had started in August. This was a first for us and literally the first time we'd had sex with anyone else besides each other since we'd been together, at that point, close to ten years. Summer had faded and the weeks gone by with a succession of marathon fuck sessions, each one hotter and edgier than the one before. Now, on a Saturday morning in October we were at this odd half way point where most inhibitions had fallen away and months of unexplored possibilities still lay ahead.
It was the weekend. By now our pattern had been distilled to David commuting from his job a few towns away on Friday nights followed by a few joints over dinner and our home grown version of a bad porn movie. It was the seventies. I remember bad perms and pubic hair.
This week, Dave had to work late and hadn't made it over until very late the night before. Instead of the all night sex we'd become accustomed to on Fridays, there had just been time for a quick one before we passed out for the night. Saturday morning found us in the kitchen having breakfast, my wife Lisa nursing a cup of coffee in an old bathrobe that had seen better days. Not much holding it together except for a belt that kept loosening up letting her boobs spill out. We were just starting to make plans for the day when David stumbled in, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, naked as a jaybird sporting a pretty good sized morning hard on.
We both pretended to be shocked. I said something like, "... hey, a little decorum at least, how about throwing some clothes on".
Not missing a beat, he grabbed a dishtowel and draped it over his cock, just managing to stand at attention with a bit of smirk on his face. Except for the steady up and down pulse of his dick, he would have made a pretty passable towel rack.
He inched closer to Lisa's face who was trying her best to ignore him. Even on good days, she's not much of a morning person. Sipping her coffee with one hand as she held her croissant with the other, he tried to edge his cock next to her lips. She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore him but he was nothing if not persistent. In a few minutes she was polite enough to at least give his a cock a perfunctory kiss between bites. For the longest time, she managed to keep up a display of studied indifference while she continued her breakfast.
Dave looked at me a bit hurt, as if to say "really? how long is she going to ignore me?"
She was hungry. And she did tend to get ornery until she finished her first cup of coffee, there was that. But having a cock dangling in front of your face is one of those things that's tough to ignore. She finally started to pay attention to his cock in earnest. Coffee and croissant still in each hand, eyes closed, mouth stretched, head bobbing slowly back and forth she finally locked her eyes on mine. If she could talk with his cock in her mouth she probably would have said something like, "...sorry, I was really just trying to have a normal breakfast but Dave showed up and shoved his stupid cock in my mouth!"
There was something obscenely perverse about this in ways that the other things we did couldn't match. For one thing, we were in the sexually neutral ground of our kitchen and more or less fully clothed. Any other week, we'd be in the process of starting what would normally be an average Saturday, planning our day, sharing a crossword puzzle, trying to put a work week behind us.
Instead my wife had her face impaled on my best friends cock as he started to peel off her robe and pinch her nipples.
I was mesmerized. Of course we'd done stuff like this before but not nearly often enough that it was anything close to routine. I pulled my own cock out of my shorts, already achingly stiff and started to rub as I watched Lisa wrap her hand around his shaft and lick the head.
My wife's a petite girl with a sweet, almost tiny mouth. Even with an average sized cock like mine, blowjobs were never that comfortable for her but this morning, even with the unexpected intrusion, I could tell she was starting to get dreamy eyed and lost in the feeling of his cock growing progressively larger in her mouth.
And you have to appreciate the geometry of this. David getting his cock sucked by my wife. My wife making a big deal of explicitly putting herself on display, sucking his cock for my pleasure as much as she did for Dave's. I'd long gotten past the point of beating myself up over how much I loved the sight of all this. One of the things that made me think of her as a soul mate was that Lisa's exhibitionist streak seemed to dovetail perfectly with my predisposition as a voyeur. In a mad, chaotic universe why question the one of the few things that seemed to make sense.
