Endra & Sam Set Boundaries

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Note to Readers:

This nine-part story follows a young, straight, American couple from dating to marriage and parenthood, and from exclusive sex to separate side action, swinging, and group sex, across ten years. All characters are at least 18 years old. Some sex is interracial. The whole story will be posted in Group Sex, although Part 1 does not put the couple in an actual swinging or group setting. This is a different take on the 'slow build' disclaimer in some stories here. Part 1 has a lot of sex, some of it described in lavish detail, but the characters' interest in group sex exists so far in their eager, excited minds. All nine parts have been written, and a new part should be posted about every five days.)

***

July 2011:

The credits rolled on the screen. The other people, maybe twenty of them, filed out of the theater. Sam kept his arm around Kendra's shoulders, and she kept her head leaned into his neck. He asked, "Would you like to go anywhere else first?"

She smiled. "No." After a moment's hesitation, she asked quietly, "How long can I stay?"

"The rest of my—" he started. Then he stopped himself. What might have been light banter a few weeks ago could be something else now. "Um, as long as you like."

Quickly she got out, "I brought stuff for overnight."

"You are, uh, I welcome you to, uh, stay that long. Or, uh, longer."

"Great!" she said, and giggled, and forced herself to stop.

When he parked the car in his space at the twelve-flat, he said, "I should say this now. I'm starting to feel really strongly about you."

"Yeah, so am I," she said. "About you."

"So...can we talk about that? Since you'll be here a long time?"

She nodded. "I want to. Um, we should. Only I've never had that kind of conversation."

"Me neither. And..." He cleared his throat, then tried to sound mock-serious. "Maybe we should deal with some stress first."

She grinned and said, "No maybe about it!" She lunged across the console, got arms around him, and kissed deep. Then she drew back, gasping. "Oh god let's get inside!"

As he secured the deadbolt, Sam said, "I'd...like to keep the lights on this time."

Kendra looked surprised. In their previous dates, they had been comfortable with 'mood lighting.'

But that was then,

she told herself. She said, "Yes."

Then a little smile stole over her. "First, you should know about this." She unzipped her jeans and pushed them off her hips. Then she pointed at what was left. "Spanx. I lie to you about my figure."

"No you don't," he said, lifting away her generic hockey jersey. He leaned between her bra-raised breasts. "Looks pretty truthful to me!" He motorboated, while she squeezed his head in closer and laughed.

"And it's not like I'm a physical marvel," he said. He pulled off his loose sleeved-tee and showed that his big-boned body had some excess.

It's evenly distributed,

he told himself, standing straight but not sucking in.

I hope.

"I enjoy feeling that," she said, scanning his torso, "so I can deal with looking at it."

They undressed each other the rest of the way, saying no more. They kissed and caressed, but also watched each other's passion, in full light, for the first time. They drew from their body familiarity once they got onto the bed, but were both aroused and nervous from what they saw on their skins and in their expressions.

He ate her out longer and more lavishly than ever before. She expected him to stop and penetrate. He didn't, sensing and feeling her excitement, staying on task, eager to learn what was needed. She saw his determination, and succumbed to it, and to what her body wanted. Trembles spread from her abdomen. She lay flat, no longer able to look at him or anything else. Low tones rose from her voice. On her clit, swelling past its hood, she felt his tongue and lips as clearly as if she saw them. Then a thrill traveled her whole body, tightening her loins, raising her trunk, launching her voice. Spasms filled her with joy, and when they eased she yearned to see, touch, taste the one who gave them to her.

She flailed to bring him to her, got no more than a grab at his hair, said "Sam please here," and lurched up to get closer to him. He got the drift, and then they were in a tight embrace, on their sides.

"I owe you one," she said huskily.

"No you don't."

"Yes I do, and shut up, I'll decide when."

In a few minutes they were calmer. "We haven't tried doggy," she said with a chuckle.

"Is that your payback?" he asked.

"Not yet. Just, uh, fun for both of us."

This was more like the sex from their earlier dates, energetic and less fraught. With her on all fours and him knee-standing behind her, they explored the arrangement, no longer concerned about the lights. She wiggled her rump, and he spanked it, lightly but to produce an audible smack. They joked and teased, but also felt sensation ramp up as his cock set off new feelings in her quim from this position.

Her sheath's squeezes caught the prick's sensitive underside, and his surprised gasp seemed to slam his diaphragm up under his lungs. He quickened his drive, greedily wanting more of her confining heat. He came first, but knew she was close, and he kept pistoning after his flexures ended. Soon her voice began ululating. Then she yelped, and her right buttock jerked hard against his right hip. In reflex he grabbed both her thighs, just in time to keep her knees steady, and to sustain her orgasm, and to prevent a kink in his dick.

When she regained normal speech, she called, "Good hands!" She looked back to him, face aglow.

In relief he said, "No date should include a trip to the emergency room."

"You sure everything's okay?" she asked, leaning her trunk slowly to release him.

"Much more than," he said, almost dizzy. He leaned to one side and sat.

They looked at each other in the full light, hair messy, bodies sweaty, genitals smeary. They laughed.

Kendra said, "I've never felt this good when I'm ugly."

"You're not—"

She tumbled on top of him. "Shut up, Ugly!" They rolled and kissed and tickled and squealed.

When they entered the bathroom he turned on the overhead light. "No hiding, Beautiful," he said, refusing to call her ugly. They had showered together before, but only in indirect light.

"Damn straight," she said, grabbing two towels from a rack and setting them in the tub.

"Hey, what—" he said, hand still on the knob that had started the shower.

"If you don't like it," she said, "I'll buy you new towels."

She had him stand at the back of the tub, facing the front. The spray hit his midsection. She knelt on the towels, facing him. She took a tube of body wash and rubbed some on his gut, crotch, and thighs.

"Nice," he said, "but why are you out of reach?" He tried to rub wash on her shoulders.

"Because you're going to fuck my tits," she said, spreading wash on them.

She was relieved that he was gobsmacked, mouth open. This allowed her to press on as if she knew what she was doing. She'd never tried it, and suspected it didn't work for most people. Even in porno it seemed iffy, the dick slipping out too much. Maybe it was planned all along that the guy would just grab his wang after twenty minutes and jerk himself off on the fatigued woman's boobs, but Kendra doubted it. Rarely had she seen what she hoped for now, the fully satisfied johnson jetting a load above the cleavage to the woman's neck, chin, mouth, or (

Eeuuuww!

she thought) eyes.

Her mams were big enough to enfold Sam's thick, flexible putz. She held each breast by its underside, to give him a full view of her nipples and areolas. She smiled up at him lovingly. (

Wait, what?

she thought in alarm.

Well, okay, a love-ish feeling is involved with this action. Nothing else. Yet.

)

His mouth opened wider, if possible, and his head leaned forward, catching the shower spray. She raised and lowered her breasts in tandem, amused as his glans peeked above the cleavage, and then was submerged in it, again and again.

She felt stiffening against her sternum, and squeezed the breasts tighter, their overlap securing him in her warmth. Then she alternated, one breast up and the other down. He jolted, and she heard his foot squeak against the tub.

He might still go to the emergency room,

she thought. She continued nonetheless, hoping to limit a fall. She sped up, feeling more rigidity, sensing that he might blast.

On impulse, she switched to cymbal-crashing the boobs on his dork, then leaned quickly to enfold it again as it flailed. Back to both breasts together, up-down-up-down, fingertips tightening under her areolas.

Shit!

she thought,

I'm digging this! Damnit, I'm not supposed to be the one getting off!

She was spared this conundrum, because Sam hollered at the ceiling. Jism dribbled from his pee-hole on the next upstroke. She beamed at this success, then at Sam's transfixed face, then again at the gunk drops that squeezed out as the wilting phallus squeezed up.

Then she saw that he was leaning a hand unsteadily against a wall. Quickly she stood and hugged him, helping stabilize his heavier body. When his head rose from lolling, she kissed him. Then he held still, and his tongue joined hers.

In a few moments he pulled back, and she saw his eyes focus on her. "May I have the privilege," he said amid gasps, "of washing your amazing self?"

***

Their sleep was conjoined and deep. Their awakening was speechless gazing, she at blue eyes, full lips, and a cleft chin, he at straight black hair, smooth high cheekbones, and big brown eyes.

He said, "This feels so—" Then he blinked, looking away. "God, I shouldn't say that. It's not fair to you." He looked at her again. "We should have that talk we, uh, talked about."

"Yes," she said, "with food. If we, uh, get really serious, I want it to be on a full stomach."

"Right," he said with a sheepish smile. "I'll make eggs."

Once they were dressed, she pitched in, going through his fridge and putting in spinach and cheese to what became a huge frittata. The addition of juice, coffee, and toast made the kitchen island look like a brunch. As they sat on stools at the island and ate, Sam got close to another this-feels-so moment, so he forced the discussion.

"Kendra, you are really...important to me. Is that too weak?"

"No, it's fine, I'm kinda confused right now." She gestured with both hands, trying to bring forth thoughts and words. "I really like having several men to play around with. But I really like being with you, too."

"Do you think it's possible...to care a whole lot about one person, but, um, enjoy, being with other people?"

"I do. I'm not sure that's true of me, though. But...it might be?" She gave him a smile. "Is that too weak?"

He set his elbows on the island and reached for her hands. That took her aback. She told herself how silly it was to worry about a gesture like this, with a man she had welcomed into her vagina, for the sixth time in two months. But sex was one thing, and this...?

She took his hands and gave him what she hoped was an encouraging look. But she said, "When you wanted the lights on...was that more than trying to get yourself another turn-on?"

He always enjoyed the sight of her, but her look now made him seek defenses to raise. He insisted that he shouldn't.

Go ahead, idiot,

he thought,

she's as nervous about this as you are. I hope.

"It was more," he said. "I was hoping we'd get...secure?...with each other. And, I wanted to know if you had downsides from, uh, seeing me."

She laughed, head tilting to the side, and her unaffected charm got him scarily close to the L-word. "Men," she said. "I probably put in ten times more effort on looks than you do. But I understand that you were taking a chance. It made me feel like I was walking off a cliff, showing you my flab, but I had actually been getting ready for this."

"I'm sorry if that put you in—"

"It's over," she said, releasing one hand to take a bite of toast. "I've only been okay with dating and sex for about a year. Sex still messes with my head. It went wrong so often. I wanted sex, but it annoyed me. It seemed like a game with all the rules written by men. Don't apologize, I'm just venting."

"All right," he said, using his free hand to fork eggs into his mouth. But then he put down the fork and gestured for her other hand. She returned it to him.

"I'm going to say two things that might disturb you," he said, "for different reasons, but it's where my head is right now. When I looked at you in bed, I was about to say, 'This feels so right,' and mean it. The second thing is, I've had sex with other women recently, and I really enjoyed it, and if possible I'd like to keep doing it."

She processed that for a second, then gave him a small smile. "That wasn't weak at all."

"Do you hate it?"

"No. I have to work through it, but I think I'm heading in the same direction. Sam, I'm very close to wanting you as...my primary. Does that explain enough?"

He shrugged. "I know you date other guys. Every man would want to get near your awesomeness."

"And I bang them, Sam." She let go of his hands. "Let's not sugarcoat anything. I have sex with men other than you, and to two of them, lately, I've happily given return trips. I now enjoy fucking, Sam. Just like you."

"Primary," he said, turning that over in his head. "So you think a relationship doesn't have to be one-on-one?"

"I keep reading about people who open up. Um...I wouldn't like to decide between giving you up and giving everyone else up."

"If we become...primaries...how would that affect what we do, with other people?"

"I don't know. That's what we should talk about. Not only now, I want to spend more time with you anyway. But what do you think our rules should be?"

"How about this, maybe for a few weeks," said Sam. "If one of us wants sex with someone else, ask the other if it's okay. The other could say no only if they have a good reason, not just jealousy. Everything we do with everyone must be as clean and germ-free as possible, and nobody gets pregnant."

"I could see it going further," said Kendra. "During this trial period, we only have sex with people we've already done. People we know we're safe with."

He mulled that. "But these are people who might have a chance to take over as primary."

"Yeah." She shook her head. "This is tough. Give me more coffee."

He filled her mug. "Let's keep getting to know each other. Then maybe we'll understand our feelings."

"I hope so," she said, "but I have to ask this flat out. Do you hate it that someday soon another man might fuck me?"

"I...sure hope not."

"Weak again!" She thought she meant that in fun, then realized that she didn't.

"Awright!" he snapped. "I don't, I won't hate it."

"But it'll hurt?"

"It could. But if I know you care about me, I should get over it."

Quickly she reached for his hand. "I've never cared this much about anyone." She almost gulped. She had expressed a feeling, more than a thought. But then it felt good, to have said that.

He smiled in relief, clasping her hand. "And I don't want you to be hurt, ever, by anything I do. So how will you feel if I take some other woman to bed?"

Her mouth tightened to a narrow line. "I'm being honest, all right? There's a little voice in my head screaming about that. But if you fuck 'em and forget 'em, or at least come back to me, wanting to stay my primary, I think it'll be okay." Her eyes widened. "Here's something else. Whatever adventures we go on, separately, we always work out in advance something that we hold back from the others, or keep just for us. Like a certain kind of sex, maybe, or a special activity."

He thought that over, nodding a few times. "Yeah, I like that. Enough self-denial to make the overall transgression acceptable."

"Wow, that sounds legalistic. Or religious."

He looked around the kitchen, frowning in thought. No lamps were lit, but there was plenty of morning daylight. "Having the lights on last night...that wasn't completely new for you, was it?"

"No. But I'm less anxious with less light." She blinked, then quickly added. "You've stayed with the lady overnight before, right?"

"A few times," he said. "Sometimes I've asked, and been invited to leave."

"So that's just for us!" she said. "With our other lovers, no full lighting during sex or nudity, and no overnights!"

"Yeah!" he said. Somehow they both decided on, and executed, a high five over the island.

"Hey Baby," he said with a leer, "How's about some hot primary action?"

"I'm not going home without it!" She slid off the stool and dashed around the island to grab him. "And the foreplay I want is on places where we aren't perfect." She hauled up his shirt and kissed a love handle.

Their clothes scattered all over the apartment as they chased and pawed and licked. She had to tell him twice that while her breasts jiggled a lot, she thought her imperfections were mainly in her midriff and thighs. He mock-moaned about how wretched his penis was, with a knobby glans when fully erect, and she giggled as she praised his dick and said it was so perfect she might never touch it again.

All of which was over once they were in bed, now in their first attempt at spooning. There were orgasms eventually, but they weren't overpowering. Hers needed clit-fingering. Yet Kendra felt wonderful.

"Sex is fun!" she exulted, arms raised. "This is what it's supposed to be! Once you get past all the tension and anxiety, and you feel

really safe,

with someone who

makes you happy,

you can cut loose and have a good time!"

Sam got mock-sleazy, but what he said had a serious undercurrent. "So, have I spoiled you for all other men?"

"Probably," she said with a sly grin. "But I suppose I'll have to keep researching." Quickly she added, "While you do the same. Or are you going to swear, on the holy books of all the world's religions, that you have now lost interest in all other women?"

He looked at her closely. She was no longer giddy. Nor did she show the previous night's nerves. What he saw was an open contentment he didn't think he'd seen from her before. He was amazed by all of their looks at each other since last night, learning from hers, probably telegraphing through his. "I will never lose that interest," he said. "And I will surely inform you when I'd like to pursue it. With low light, early departure, and respect for my primary."

"We should make sure in advance that our targets find those rules acceptable," she said, "but, I think, not tell them why we insist on them."

"Good idea."

They sealed that with a very long kiss.

***

August 2011:

Kendra was holding a broom when she opened the door. Sam was holding a grocery bag. The shared a brief smile at their thwarted hug.

"Just need a minute." she said. "Nuggins went prospecting for dust bunnies." The gray cat on the back of the sofa meowed, perhaps in self-justification.

"It's all good," he said, taking the bag to the kitchen. He enjoyed this domestic moment, which helped quell his edgy nerves. He called over his shoulder, "I'll put the salad stuff in the fridge."

"Yep," came the reply.

She was emptying the dustpan in the trash bin while he was putting the paper bag in the recycling. "Timing!" she said at their mutual disencumbrance. They converged for a hug, which lingered, and was augmented by a long kiss.

He pulled back and hoped she was comfortable enough for this frontier in their banter. "So, how was your night?"

"Delightful!" she said, with a smile he read as amused. "And yours?"

"Most worthwhile," he said, sustaining the mood. But he was still worried.

Kendra saw this in his expression, and put a comforting hand on his chest. "Rules followed?"