Tijuana

In 1964, at age eighteen Jean had graduated from High School in a suburb of Sacramento, CA had been a successful HS student living in a loving if an oppressive family with her mother, father, brother, and sister. The youngest of the three kids she was not treated any different from her siblings.

When she was hired for an office job at Cargill in Oakland at only eighteen years old she was very naive. She had never traveled or been 'away' from home.

Jean was beautiful at five-feet-nine-inches tall, brown-black hair, wide and curvy hips, cute small mounds for breasts. With a big smile and cheerful eyes and face, she had an amazing figure, small chest and upper body with a narrow waist and wide flaring hips. Her long lithe legs just seemed to go up forever under the short dresses she wore. It was always a treat to see her thighs disappearing under that sexy swaying hemline. Dresses she liked to wear were usually shaped like an 'A' with a flouncy hem. Her hemlines were always about three to four inches above her knees.

Her Dad was a State of California Heavy Equipment Operator, and her Mom was a stay-at-home wife/laundress who was a very interesting lady. 'Mom' dressed in 'old country peasant styles' and had a very heavy 'old country' accent that matched the clothes she wore. I can recall her in a babushka dress with a white apron tied at the waist. From Eastern Europe, a first-generation American from Serbia Jean's mom was very interesting.

Jean and I had many dates where she refused to have anything to do with intimacy but would eagerly allow breast 'massage' because she said it might help her flat tits fill out to where she would finally have a cup size. She did not need a bra, even with a t-shirt.

Her lack of 'breasts' drove her nuts, and I loved her 'tits'. Sometimes she wore these shells of padded cloth pieces sewn in triangular shapes for a bra. Many of these were complete with little nipples formed into them, so when she wore them, she could be seen to have 'excited' nipples.

They also shared some bras that her mom had made from sacking cloth. They actually were two pieces that snapped together in the middle in front and back. They had a pocket sewn in them. Her mom placed her breasts in the pockets. Jean stuffed padding in the pockets. Jean and her mom had shared these homemade bras for years.

I used to tell her mom almost every time I saw her at their house that I had been playing with one of her brassieres that evening. 'Mom' would get all flustered, and say nasty things about me and her daughter in reply. Jean's mom was not flat chested, she just had a huge sag, and when sitting down her bulbous breasts laid on the top of her rolls of stomach fat.

Her dad was a social submissive to her mom, I cannot even imagine her folks having sex he was so passive.

Things changed for us when we got married. My wife became a sexual explorer with an appetite and a capacity I could not have imagined prior to our getting married. I was fucking delighted! She seemed to like everything we attempted except she wouldn't consider MFM, or FF, or FMF.

We did go to Tijuana once, and all of that changed. The Genie came out of the bottle. My wife had a table dance and was very turned on by the little señorita who danced for us. She had very poor implants of little ball shapes for tits. Her labia were loose hanging to about 3 inches below her torso. She was about the same age as we were, and quite pretty. She was quite hairy but trimmed to a narrow landing strip about four inches long cantered over her vaginal crease.

She couldn't get my wife to kiss her, but when she placed Jean's hand on her ass, my wife immediately seemed to lose all inhibitions.

I then asked about a private dance to which the dancer agreed. We got up, went through a hanging curtain into a very small room with a cot and a fruit crate as a table. There were two very bright table lamps, and two bright ceiling bulbs so that it was easy to watch her perform.

After one dance, she immediately removed her clothes. The naked dancer sat on my wife's lap and began to nuzzle at Jean's chest. When she placed her hands on top of my wife's T-shirt and padded bra, she exclaimed and rapidly jerked Jean's T-shirt over Jean's head. She called another woman and waved yet another dancer over. All three women handled her nipple bra and wanted to buy it. My wife just took it off and handed it to the dancer who smelled and examined it then laid it on the table.

The three women were really interested in my wife with no breasts, just nipples. They wanted to touch them, and my wife just shrugged.

All of them reached for and fingered her nipples. Eventually, one woman slipped in a quick lip lock on one nipple and pinched the other nipple vigorously until my wife just moaned in delight. The women attempted to remove the rest of my wife's clothes but were not able to get her to go for that. She insisted on not removing her white full-cut cotton panties.

My wife wanted the señorita to dance again. She placed a dollar on the table, then said, "Dance for me."

The woman started to bump and grind and actually did a little shimmy as she pirouetted around my wife. When she was around behind my wife, she slid an arm around Jean's waist and got her to stand up to dance together. They actually just ground their crotches against each other.

As they eventually gained a rhythm, the woman was all butterfly hands and mouth on my wife. They both were very aroused and seemed to have forgotten or at least didn't even care that I was there.

They were french kissing and rubbing each other's breasts. My wife allowed the woman to place one of her hands inside her panties on her pubic hair, which soon led to fingers between Jean's labia. The woman moved her fingers into her own mouth then dipped into the wife's vagina and spread her pussy juices all over my wife's mouth, lips and chin.

I could smell the accumulated scents of the two of them as they began to stroke each other. My wife seemed to have forgotten all of whatever lifelong reservations she ever had and was moaning, kissing, and rubbing her nipples against the other woman's breasts.

The dancer began to go down on Jean by kissing her ear, neck breast then her belly button. As she slid further down, she slowly lowered the front of Jean's panties and as soon as her pubic hair was visible, she abruptly pulled the crotch up between Jean's soaking labia then slid them back and forth like floss. As she stopped kissing Jean, she watched Jean's vulva which was soaking wet and quite dark and flushed with excitement as it came into view.

Jean was slipping out of control. She all of a sudden stood up, stripped and laid open her legs across the cot. The other woman reached into her own pussy and placed her juices into my wife's mouth. My wife quickly did it again with her own fingers. They both agreed to slowly stroke each other. My wife came quickly as the woman slid her mouth over my wife's vagina and began to suck, kiss, lick and nuzzle until my wife climaxed again.

My wife refused to touch her mouth to the other woman's vagina, and placed my hands onto both of their pussies and asked me to stroke their clits. This time the dancer came first, and then she started nursing on those marvelous nipples. My wife came again.

Jean seemed quite sexually satisfied, and, she was sobering up. They got dressed. Jean left the woman a tip that was a week's wages. The woman gave me a pair of her panties that she had soaked and then had used to wipe up her pussy and my wife's.

When we were back across the border; Jean had slept while waiting in the border crossing line. She had sobered considerably and asked me, "Did I ruin our marriage? I just couldn't stop myself. All of a sudden I was so focused on pussy. All I could think about was when a high school girlfriend had point-blank asked me to have oral sex with her and I had reacted terribly. I would like to say I had accepted her offer, but instead, I began a crippling whisper campaign. I feel like a real slob and slut. So, tell me what you are thinking, please."

I hesitated and thought about what to say in response. I began with, "I think we have now identified the elephant in our relationship."

"I am thinking that maybe your hunger for giving me a blow job three or four times a day is either your denial of your real desire to eat pussy or you are truly bisexual. You like sex, lots of sex with either men or with women. I was just thinking about how hard I was while I watching you. I had a desire to join in and a desire to flee. There was a fear gnawing at me about the slut you are at home in bed. I wonder, Is this is the person you really are? Is the other you that we have known just a disguise?"

"I was very surprised to watch you and I learned a lot about me and a ton about you. Another question is what have you learned and what can you or will you tell me?"

Even though she had expected me to know when she had asked, she didn't know when I asked her what she could tell me she had learned. She shrugged and said she was not sure, but that her instinct told her she was okay with it, but that her mother would actually kill her if she found out.

I let her sleep for awhile again. When we were about 10 minutes from home, I woke her gently.

She looked over at me, stretched and rubbed my cock through my pants and said, "I am sorry. I knew this desire was in me and I didn't want to admit it. Now I have to face it and frankly, it is very scary. I think I want to do it again, however, I want it to be caring and tender, not so commercial."

She continued, "I will talk to Merry," (the landlady) "tomorrow when I am sober and thinking clearly and see what she thinks. She usually makes sense for me."

I left it there as we had arrived home a changed couple of young sex fiends.