For those of you who have never tried to arrange to meet another couple for a bit of adult play, the beginning of this story may put you off the idea completely, as itâs really too hard to arrange. Then, somewhere near the middle, give you a glimmer of hope, and a reason to go one. And finally, when you get to the good bit at the end, have you responding to personal ads like thereâs no tomorrow. For those of you who have, you can read the first part of the story, and perhaps allow yourselves a wry smile at the cageyness, coyness and almost downright secretive behaviour we all exhibit from time to time.
Iâll start by introducing the heroine of the piece. A wonderful woman I met 18 months ago, at a Literotica meeting on a sunny spring day in downtown Sydney. Rather strangely, well, for a heroine anyway, her appearance in this story is somewhat fleeting. For you see, the lady in question was the one who brought a personal ad. to my attention, and suggested that the couple that had posted sounded perfect for what we (my wife and I) were looking for.
It occurs to me as I write that had it not been for her, all of this might not have happened. I probably wouldnât be sat here writing a story about it, and we would most likely have never met Steve and Sash.
So, in what I feel to be an appropriate forum, a huge heart felt thanks to my western friend (you know who you are!), for helping us down this road.
And so, it is with a sad farewell, that we say adieu to our heroine. Her purpose is now served, and I can get on with telling you all the naughty little details. I think I know why youâre reading this, and I donât believe itâs to assess my talents as an author. So, back to the story.
The personal ad was really no different to many others. There was a quick description of the couple, Steve and Sash. Not their real names, but then who cares. The usual likes and dislikes, what they were hoping to find in another couple and so on. Iâd seen any number of ads that said much the same. However, this one had two notable differences. Firstly, both Steve and Sash are bisexual. I donât know about you, but that sounds like a night with great potential. Imagine spending a night with three other people where it doesnât matter who or how you touch the person next to you. Secondly, and probably more importantly, theyâd included a picture. The faces were masked of course, but you could certainly see what the bodies were like. A petite, slim, curvy, brunette female, and a tall, well toned man with a cock like a chair leg.
I should point out at this time that my judgment as to the suitability of Steve and Sash was in no way affected by the monstrous appendage being brandished toward the camera when Steveâs picture was taken. Of course not, I meanâŚ., it wouldnât be would it?
I read the add a few times, and looked at the picture a few more. And then showed it to my wife, Al, when she got home that night. We agreed to send a reply to the e-mail address supplied. No pictures at this stage, just a quick response to indicate an interest. Of course, I fully intended to use my anonymous e-mail address, and then promptly sent it from my home address (oops). Told you that cock wasnât affecting my judgment in any way!
We had a reply a couple of days later, with a Yahoo ID so that we could chat on-line. Now this is where the fun begins. Firstly, you have to both be on line at the same time, which is harder than you might think. It took us nearly a week. Finally, we were in the right place at the right time and we started chatting. This in itself is no simple task. The problem with on-line chat is that you lose all sense of stress and intonation in what the other person is writing. Of course, it would be so much easier over the phone, but whoâs going to send their phone number to someone theyâve never even seen?
And then came the request Iâd been worrying about. Steve and Sash quite rightly wanted some photos of my wife and I. We have a digital camera, and have a few photos available. However, most of them seem to have Alâs face, and my cock in them, usually in close proximity. And so, with a little editing, and the insertion of a few black squares, the second hurdle had been jumped. Weâd chatted and exchanged photos. So far, so goodâŚ..but bloody difficult all in all, and the whole process does little to inspire any form of confidence.
The next evening, I came home to find a message waiting on Yahoo. They liked the photos. Thank FUCK for that! I think Iâd have been almost suicidal if theyâd rejected us on looks alone. Just for the record, Al is petite, slim, curvy, tits to die for, and all round sexy. Iâm just your average 6â bloke watching his hair go backwards and his belly come forwards. Not that bad yet, but I really should start thinking about some more exercise.
We managed to chat to them a couple more times over the next week or so, and then came the crunch. They wanted proof that Al was not just a figment of my imagination, and that we were really genuine. I have to say that we both felt the same way. Theyâd had problems in the past with single men pretending to couples just to get some pictures to wank over, or simply having a laugh at their expense. As this was our first time, we were being particularly careful and didnât want our somewhat fragile egos crushed by some dickhead having a giggle.
The only way to do it therefore, was to swap phone numbers and for Al and Sash actually talk to each other. Itâs not like they were going to be ogres or anything surely? After all, the vast majority of people are honest and genuine. Weâre adults. We can handle a simple phone call. Just ring the mobile number, and ask to speak to Sash.