That song wouldn't stop playing in my head as I drove towards Dave and Ann's house. Mojo fever, monkey fingers, hair down to his knees. Utter nonsense; although, "he's got to be good lookin', 'cause he's so hard to see," contained a modicum of truth. In my opinion, Dave and Ann are a very attractive couple. Which added to the mystery of why I had been asked to take part in a threesome.
I'd had one, twenty years ago, in college, when my roommate and I had boffed a townie, but it had been a pretty tame event, compared to what one can now find in the world of porn. No DP's, no coming on her face. I screwed her, he screwed her, I screwed her, he screwed her. As I said, pretty tame. But we were young and inexperienced, and those were different times.
Dave and Ann run a website design/hosting business out of their home. I-Joe-am divorced, have two kids in college, and represent Dave and Ann as their attorney. I'd set up their LLC, gotten them a zoning variance for a home business, and, most importantly, defended them in an obscenity charge.
Several of the sites they host are XXX oriented, and the local DA, up for reelection, brought charges. Totally without merit; it was pure publicity. The judge threw it out in five minutes. The three of us celebrated a late lunch at a local bistro, with pasta and Chianti. Too much Chianti; I was ready to head back to my office for a nap.
Ann changed all that. We were seated on a banquette, Dave on one side of his wife, me on the other. She leaned her head on my shoulder. Her hand slid beneath the table, lightly stroked my thigh. "Joe," she said, looking into my eyes, "That was magnificent, in court. You abso-fucking-lutely demolished that jerk. You need a thank-you kiss."
Which I got. Sloppy, wet, tasting of the sunny Umbrian countryside. Eyes wide, I looked at Dave across her shoulder. He smirked. My legal mind swiftly reviewed the situation. Decision: something was up!
When Ann finally disentangled from the embrace, Dave said, "Joe, you've got to realize that we spend hours and hours a day, looking at that stuff. We can only take so much, then it's time for a sex break. But, after nearly a year, we've pretty well exhausted the possibilities, with just the two of us. Since you are unattached, we thought it might be fun if you helped us explore the menage a trois."
I should say here that Dave and Ann are in their early thirties, have two kids in elementary school, and, from all outward appearances, are a typical suburban couple. After practicing law for fifteen years, I know all too well that outward appearances mean nothing. We all have secrets, secrets which all too frequently are only exposed when a lawyer becomes involved. My divorce is a good example.
Ann is a redhead, with green eyes, and creamy skin, sprinkled with freckles. There's definitely a body beneath the loose dress she is wearing, but it's more of a hint than a statement. Dave was a jock in college, and still spends enough time in the gym and on the jogging trail to keep fit. They could both stand to lose a few pounds, but then, who couldn't?
"It's an intriguing proposal," I answered. "What are the ground rules?"
"None," she said, obviously the leader. "We'll make it up as we go along. Obviously, we have some ideas, some desires, from all the stuff we've seen. But no one is forcing anything on anybody. Dave and I want to take a trip to a new place, see the sights. You game?" Her hand still rested on my thigh, and I was afraid I was about to send my suit to the cleaners.
"Game," I said.
So here I am, a few minutes past noon, driving to Dave and Ann's; obviously we have to do this while their children are at school. Ann greets me at the door, pecks my cheek. She is wearing an XL sweatshirt with DUKE spelled out across the front. One of Dave's; it hangs nearly to her knees. Her feet are bare. She leads me into the living room. A clean sheet is draped across the sofa, another one is on the floor. My heart skips a beat. Used to looking at pornography all day, this couple proceeds at warp speed.
Dave enters from the kitchen. Also barefoot, he is dressed in a T shirt and sweat pants. I suspect they are both naked underneath. "Joe," he says, "How 'bout a burger and a beer?"
Yes; anything that allows me to regain control of myself. He and I sit at the kitchen table while Ann flips patties on the stove. "I put together a little five minute montage, showing the various permutations and possibilities of a three way. We'll watch it on the TV, after we eat."
Which we do. Ann snuggles between us on the sofa, Dave works the remote. I've rented videos a time or two, experimented with a couple of kinks (which probably contributed to my divorce), but what I see in those few brief minutes. . .black on blonde, double anal, deep throat, something called Bukkake. I am attracted and repelled.
Ann rises, pulls me to my feet. Unbuttons and removes my shirt. Unties my shoes, peels off my socks. Works my belt, my zipper, reduces me to T shirt and shorts. Shorts that do little to disguise the state I am in.
"OOH, Davie! Looky-look. Hidden treasure!" She sits, pats the cushion beside her. Puts her tongue in my mouth. I slip my hand under the sweat shirt. Naked, as I had thought. Big, soft breasts, big, hard nipples. The product of nursing two babies. I fiddle with them as we kiss, then let my hand explore beneath the warm fleece. Belly button, belly, mons, furry bush. Moist cave. My treasure, your cave. Later, later.
Her hand, in turn, has wormed its way into my shorts. Measures, squeezes, chokes, strokes. She breaks the kiss, turns to her husband. "He's thicker than you," she gasps.
"Prove it," he answers, rising, peeling off his shirt, tugging the drawstring of his pants. he's semi-erect, still pointing more at the floor than the ceiling. Big sack, a long penis. But; she's right: I AM definitely wider. Males are so competitive! An old girlfriend once told me that diameter was everything. But, then, she was trying to persuade me to take her to Hawaii for a week.
Ann crosses her arms and grabs the hem of the sweatshirt, strips it off above her head. Her rising breasts are lovely; full, pendulous. Long, pink nipples and a network of blue veins beneath the pale skin. Dave and I each suck one into our mouths. Our hands meet at her pussy. I've done this a thousand times, but never with another man competing for real estate! It is a strange sensation; soft, moist folds and fissures, hard, probing fingers that are not mine.
She manages to get her arms down past our busy mouths, our torsos, and finds our (mine, anyway) cocks. Lips still locked on a nipple, I glance down, see that she is indeed stroking her husband. She humps my-our-hand. "I need," she pants, "I need my first suck and fuck!"
She releases us; Dave and I stand. "Well, Darling," he asks, "Who-what-where?"
She rises, looks at me, her husband. Hands on her wide hips, she eyes our equipment, judging. "Joe, lie on the floor. I'll get on top, suck you. Dave, do me doggie."
She kneels over me, lowers her mouth to my cock, begins to slowly lick up and down its length, then sucks in the head. I wish I could watch. Although, to be honest, the view from down here is not all that bad! I study her cunt from a distance of six inches, as my hands rove up and down her back, her shoulders, her soft buttocks.
"Raise you hips," Dave says. "I need more angle." He's pretty tall, a bit over six feet. His knees appear on either side of my head. He guides his cock into her without ceremony; in a single stroke he sinks his shaft deep within her. She then takes me in. She tilts her chin toward my feet, back, then sideways; handles my cock like a stick shift going up through the gears. At least a five speed. Her lips worry the base of my root as her busy tongue plays with the head. In the dim cavern beneath her, I watch him slide in and out. Her labia become engorged, flush pink. A drop of her dew falls on my nose, slides down my nostril, heads for the corner of my mouth. My tongue snakes out, captures it. Salty. I take a deep breath, inhale her scent.
"I'm close, guys! Come on, come on; join me," she mumbles around my hardness. Her hands go between my legs, spread them. I feel a finger join my cock in her mouth. The damp finger circles my back door. "Play with my ass, Joe. Fuck me faster, harder, Babe!"
My fingers play a light tune on her pink star, and it responds. Dave grasps her hips and increases the pace. Her slim finger enters me and I explode; again and again and again, I empty into her mouth. She mumbles something, sucks, swallows. Spits me out, but continues to yank my shaft. "God! YES! YES! YES."
