And Then There Were Three Ch 01

The author lives in the UK, hence the English spelling. The author will be pleased to receive constructive comments through the link below.

Chapter 1

Just some things you should know now that you've found out about us. I know that you were bothered about loosing Paula but now you know that won't happen. Whatever has passed between her and me hasn't drastically altered her feelings for you; both of you have agreed that things will just be a little different from now on. That you want to carry on with what you have agreed says much about you Martin. Paula and I have talked at length about the situation and now we can tell you what you are going to do.

But first Martin, let me tell you how we got to where we are now. It started innocently enough, it always does.

It was the on-line charity auction in the office intranet that did it. There were the usual stuff, cakes baked to some special 'granny's' recipe, a mornings housework, a genuine Indian meal prepared by building services guy, free riding lesson and so on. We could all bid on-line with an end-date in a week or so. It was a bit dull I thought, so I offered a flight in a 2-seat light-aircraft 'in the vicinity of your house'; the plane would be piloted by me, hired from a local flying club. The auction really took off then (excuse the pun); the bidding went up very quickly with some staff bidding against each other several times. I occasionally logged on to see the progress; one time Paula's name popped up. I watched with added interest then. Somebody out-bid her and then another and then she bid again. Three were left in it and an idea formed. The flight was going to be photographed for the work magazine and also for pictures on the website. I wanted Paula to get the flight but I didn't want tons of people around at the time; also, she'd likely be out-bid and I didn't want to take either of the two guys left in the race. So, calmly, I 'bumped' into her and told her to stop bidding, I'd take her anyway.

She was delighted.

'When?' she asked.

'Anytime you like.' I said, 'a weekend is better; bring your husband to take some pictures before we go.'

She looked thoughtful for a second.

'Saturday?'

'It's a deal,' I said, 'see you at the local airfield at 9am. Wear trousers, lace-up shoes and bring a jacket and sunglasses.'

I was there at 8.30, plane ready and me waiting by it. Her car entered the car-park at her usual rate (fast) and I was pleased to see that she was alone. Great, no husband! She got out of the car. When I said trousers, I'd meant just that; I hadn't envisaged a pair of jeans that looked as if they'd been sprayed on. Boy did she look good; they fitted so closely, following every contour of her legs and crotch; the outline of her pussy lips clearly defined. I tried not to look (she told me later that I'd failed miserably).

'No husband?' I enquired.

'No.' She said, giving no further explanation.

I showed her around the aircraft and helped her into the small cockpit. As I walked around to the other side I noticed two pilot colleagues watching; out of Paula's sight, I grinned at them and silently mouthed, 'fuck off.' They waved back.

'Dirty, lucky bastard.' one softly called. I climbed in.

Getting her belted in was a nice experience as I adjusted the straps; she made it comfortable over her breasts. I glanced briefly at them; lovely. I fired up the engine, went through all the safety checks, explaining what I was doing as I did so. She looked lovely with the headset on and sunglasses. I called the tower and taxied around to the runway. I checked that she still wanted to go and she said she most certainly did. I radioed the tower and said I was ready for departure. I received clearance and entered the runway. With a glance at Paula I gave it full power and we tore down the runway, lifting off quite soon. A quick glance indicated that Paula was OK, she was grinning from ear to ear. I climbed out to 1000 feet and headed west towards the Brecon Beacons.

Paula was entranced at the wildness and the view; it was a perfect day. She wore the expression of an excited child as we levelled at 4000 feet and cruised around as I pointed out things on the ground and a hot-air balloon which we circled at a safe distance. The crew waved and Paula waved back. I asked her if she was enjoying it. She put her hand on my arm and said she was; she left her hand there for some times and then, just so naturally, dropped it to my upper leg and gently moved her hand back and forth. Bloody difficult flying with a hard-on I tell you. I headed back to the field and gave her the controls; nervous at first she later relaxed and I got her to turn it and hold it level and in a straight line. I took over again as we neared the airfield and she put her hand lightly back on my leg; she was apprehensive as I approached for landing as she said the runway looked too small.

'It's OK.' I said, 'it gets bigger the nearer you are.'

She giggled. 'So I see.'

I frowned and then realised. My hard-on was evident.

I blushed and then moved her hand. 'I need to concentrate on this bit.' I said.

I called the airfield and in turn we were cleared to land. She went quiet as we approached and then just said 'Wow' as we touched down. I taxied to the club and shut the plane down. I showed her how to undo the safety harness by undoing mine. She undid hers and in one movement leaned over and kissed be full on the mouth.

'Thank you,' she said, 'that was the most marvellous experience.'

I looked at her in wonderment and said nothing; I was dumbstruck. I opened the door and got out, went round and opened her door and helped her out. The two guys who had watched us go were waiting already; they'd been listening on the radio and heard me call on the way in.

One of them, one of those good looking bastards that all we men hate, chanced his luck.

'Do I get a kiss like that if I take you flying?'

Paula stopped, looked him straight in the eye.

'No.' She said, and walked on.

I grinned at his disappointment and said nothing. Back at her car, I asked if she'd like a drink before going home.

'I thought you'd never ask.' She said, 'I'll follow you in my car.'

I drove to a riverside pub and we had a lovely hour which passed all too quickly. As we left the pub garden, she suggested a short walk along the river bank; there was an obvious path so we followed it, talking about the flight as we walked. I can't remember what I said exactly, but it prompted Paula to turn round and dig me in the ribs. I caught her wrist, she turned towards me and we went straight into a full blown kiss. She kisses so well as you know Martin. I was staggered at the intensity of it, her tongue in my mouth and her body pressed against mine. I rapidly became hard which she must have felt as she gave a short gasp as we kissed. I felt her gently, but quite deliberately, press her pubis into me. There was only one place this was going from here Martin.

We broke apart and looked at each other. We didn't say anything, just turned around and walked back to my car, hand in hand. When she got into her car, I asked her if we could get some time together. From our conversations, she knew that I often went out for a day on my own at weekends or that my wife regularly visited her mother, sometimes staying overnight. I also knew that you sometimes travelled with your work. She said she'd think about it; I thought then that she was having second thoughts already so didn't push things. It was a surprise therefore the following Monday, that she said that she was taking the Wednesday off and that you were going away that day and would be away overnight...and could we meet? Would I like to call round for coffee around lunch-time? Yes to both I said.

I'll never forget that Wednesday afternoon in your bed Martin. We never got around to the coffee. At first we fucked like it was going out of fashion, later we made love and talked.

I boldly drew up my car into your drive: when I got out, I took my briefcase with me, looking like some respectable business man come to talk insurance or whatever. Paula opened the door before I reached it and I entered your house. I turned around as she shut the door and dropped the latch; she looked stunning Martin. She'd put up her hair and had on a low-cut top just showing the swell of her breasts. What took my breath away however was the skirt she was wearing: it was impossibly short but she wore it so well and moved no naturally, so sure was she about herself. I went through into the sitting room, I didn't sit, just stood there looking at her. She asked me if I'd like coffee and I slowly shook my head as I looked into her eyes.

'Good.' She said and moved towards me and kissed me full on the mouth.

It wasn't me that started the running Martin, it was your wife. She pressed against me as she kissed me; pulling away she took my hand, turned and walked me into the hall and to the foot of your stairs.

I was shaking either through excitement or nervousness, I don't know. She took the first step and I followed her up, my eyes on her incredible legs and bottom moving under her skirt. At the top of the stairs she turned left and led me into your bedroom. The room was bathed in sunlight filtering through the already drawn curtains; the thin duvet was pulled back over the sheets that you had vacated earlier that morning.

Your wife turned around to face me, 'I haven't done this before...' she said, and went to say more but I put the tip of my finger to her lips to silence her. I didn't want her going all guilty on me right now.

She paused, opened her mouth slightly, sucked in my finger and gently nipped it between her teeth. I moved towards her and went straight for her mouth, she let go of my finger a fraction before our lips met; we kissed without any finesse, hard with searching tongues, teeth on lips and grinding into each other. I roughly pulled off the clip holding her hair up and it fell free around her face. It was wild, raw passion Martin. We broke apart and your wife stepped back; as she looked me straight in the eyes, she crossed her arms as she gripped the hem of her top and in one fluid movement pulled it over her head. I was staggered, she stood looking at me as I looked back at Paula, her breasts free and wearing just that short skirt. She is beautiful Martin, you and I are both lucky men (and so are a couple of others before she married you she since told me). I pulled my shirt over my head and we embraced and kissed again as she undid the belt of my trousers; I pulled away, kicked off my shoes and pulled my trousers off, taking my socks with them. I stood there in my tight briefs with a seemingly huge erection and precum leaking through. Your wife gazed at my evident arousal; as she did so, she undid the clasp at the side of her skirt, let it fall to the floor and stepped out of it. I looked at her in awe. Naked, her figure is perfect; she wore the briefest of thongs, the deep claret coloured one you bought for her, the triangular front piece evidently wet.

She moved backwards to the edge of your bed and sat down, pulled herself fully onto it and then lifting herself slightly, pulled down her thong and lifted her legs as she drew it off. She lay back fully and slightly parted her legs to expose the most perfect slit surrounded by neatly trimmed hair. Still standing, I pulled off my briefs and my hard cock sprang clear. Paula looked at it and then me; I moved to the bed and went to lie beside her but she pulled me on top of her. Then all hell broke lose. We kissed, bit sucked at each other her breasts were hard on by chest and she went mad when I kissed them, gasped when I sucked them and wild when I gently nipped each nipple in turn between my lips.

Her hand went down and grasped my solid prick (cock was too polite a term for this great leaking shaft) as I felt down to her slit; it is lovely and with smooth edges, as you know Martin, when I thrust a finger inside it was like opening a floodgate. Love juice poured from her; I went to go down on her but she grabbed my hair.

'Please.' She whispered, 'Just fuck me David, please.'

I needed no further bidding Martin; as I moved to enter her she grabbed my prick and slid herself onto it in great haste. I followed with a thrust and she gasped, so loudly I thought I'd hurt her and went to withdraw.

'It's all right,' she breathed, 'keep going.'

And we did Martin, we fucked, there is no other word for it. Your wife met every thrust of mine, she grunted at each thrust, digging her nails into my back, biting my lip, repeating over and over again, 'fuck, fuck, fuck...'

At one point her flailing arms knocked a photo frame off the table next to your side of the bed. It landed face up on the bed and I had the odd experience of fucking your wife whilst looking of a picture of you and her on your wedding day. Bizarre! I couldn't keep this pace for long; I tried to stop for a while but she kept saying 'No' every time I slowed; eventually my control fell away and I knew I was going to cum very soon. I lunged deeper and fiercely into her and she started to raise her voice as she repeated over and over again, 'Harder, harder, harder...'; I put my hand over here mouth as I began to cum. I rammed my prick into her as hard and as deep as I could, she bit my hand and groaned. I came what felt for ages; it felt that good it almost hurt. I felt it rush through my prick and release into her. From walking into your house to now must have taken place over less than fifteen minutes. Your wife is a marvellous fuck Martin.

My erection faded away after a while and I relaxed and started to breathe more regularly. I looked down on her face, her lips were swollen from rough kissing and I noticed her eyes were moist.

I went to speak but she said, 'Don't say anything' and the words died on my lips.

As we lay quietly, my cock softened and started to move out of her: as it did so she gripped it with her vaginal muscles, a great feeling which I thought only my wife could do. I smiled down at her and withdrew my softened cock and moved down her body.

'Where are you going?' she asked.

'I have some unfinished business to attend to.' I said softly and carried on down, kissing and sucking her breasts on the way.

She half-heartedly gripped my hair and softly said 'No.' but it had no conviction so I carried on down with my tongue. As I approached her now swollen lips she raised her hips slightly, offering up her lovely slit, now half open. A wonderful musky scent arose from her, a mixture of her natural womanhood, her love juices and my cum; it was wonderful. I found her slit with my tongue and moved up to her slightly hidden clitoris. When I tickled it lightly with my tongue, she sighed and pushed herself into my face; I drew back slightly and moved down, she lowered her hips to maintain contact with my tongue and I kept going down until her gorgeous arse was back on the bed. Your bed sheet was soaked. I kept up the stimulation of her clitoris, listening for signs of her enjoyment, they came soon enough, and to my eternal delight, so did she.

And boy, did she let me know it was cumming.

First a great sigh, followed by a 'Fucking hell.' then a rush of fluid, a deep moan and then an almighty shudder and a flood of liquid filled my mouth. She grabbed my hand and pushed it down, 'fingers.' I heard her say, 'fingers.' She said again. I thrust two fingers roughly inside her and she clamped down on them instantly. I vigorously moved them inside her as she thrust herself onto them and thrashed around as each wave moved through her. Eventually she quietened down and I stopped moving my fingers. When she was still I gently removed my fingers; as I did so, she opened her eyes and looked at me hazily. She told me that was the first time it had happened to her for over two years. By my reckoning, that meant that you hadn't given her an orgasm since you married her Martin. Also, over two years ago meant that somebody had before you married her, when you knew her. I said nothing.

We lay together for a while, saying nothing, she with her head on my shoulder, occasionally drifting off and coming back again. I looked down on her beautiful face and thought what a lucky man I was that afternoon. I leant over and kissed her softly and she stirred and opened her mouth and pushed her tongue into mine. I returned her kiss and then moved to her neck (she likes that doesn't she Martin?) and then her breasts. She started to react and, to my surprise, so did I. We made love then in the true sense of the term. We smiled, we moved together, talked, laughed and all the time me moving in and out of your wife. She told me I was wonderful, a great lover, marvellous to be in bed with and how much she loved my 'huge prick' she called it. This surprised me somewhat as I don't consider my self huge: my wife says my cock is lovely and thick, but not huge. Anyway, it did my ego a world of good. Fancy bedding a beautiful and passionate woman and being told your prick is huge as you make love with her! We went on for quite some time, stopping if I threatened to cum. After what seemed like a great while, I felt that my balls were going to explode. I stepped up the pace and when I didn't slow down I saw in her face that she knew I was going to cum soon. As I drove more forcefully into her she began to meet my thrusts. As I began to cum, she looked me in the eyes and simply said.

'Fill me with your cum David.'

I needed no second bidding Martin, ramming deeply into your wife and staying deep as I emptied into her.

After some minutes I moved from her and lay beside her. She curled up beside me and told me again what a good lover I was. She went silent for a while and then saying that she didn't want to say too much out of loyalty to you (strange that, after what we had just been doing) but wanted to say something. It was then she told me about you and your hang-up over your small penis; she said there were other things as well which she didn't want to go into.

Evidently your penis is 'small' whatever 'small' means; being a man I just had to ask 'in comparison to mine for example.' She held up her hand with thumb a finger about three inches apart. In response, I pulled the duvet back and pointed out that was about the same as my now flaccid penis. She then said that that is the size of your penis when hard. That explains the flattering comments about my size, I thought. I made a crude comment about it's not the size that matters but what you do with it, which I instantly regretted as a look of pain flashed across her face. She said she didn't have a hang-up about it, but you most definitely do Martin. She says it sometimes borders on an obsession and seldom does a day go by without you mentioning it. I wanted to ask (pry) as to how sex was with you Martin but I didn't have the nerve. You are getting into bed every night with a woman who has the looks most women would kill for. It couldn't be a matter of not wanting you, and you clearly do get hard but not hugely so.

Why is she telling me this I asked myself? I listened for a while and have to say got a voyeurs thrill out of hearing the intimate details of your love life. As we lay there talking about your penis, your wife started to stroke mine which felt good. My cock stirred, becoming full but not hard. It felt good and I relaxed, enjoying the feeling.

Paula said she felt better for talking and I wondered if she'd off-loaded some guilt. We lay there, her stroking my full cock and me running my fingers through her hair. Almost imperceptibly she stirred and kissed my shoulder and then down to my nipples; how did she know I liked that? She still had hold of my cock as she sucked them and tickled them with her tongue. Effortlessly, she moved down and in one fluid movement sucked my cock into her warm mouth. I was stunned at the way in which she did it, that she did it at all, and that my cock sprang into life for the third time that afternoon. She slowly sucked my cock to a respectable erection; she ran her tongue along its underneath and scratched it lightly with her teeth, which I found a real turn-on. Every now and then she plunged her mouth all the way down several times. It is a wonderful feeling as you know. She kept this going for several minutes and I felt myself approaching the edge; I just said her name, to warn her of my cumming, but she ignored it and kept going. My prick exploded, the first jet of cum went over the side of her face and into her hair; she deftly plunged her mouth fully over my prick. It has been my most intense cum ever Martin; I thought it wouldn't stop, I almost felt faint as my heart raced. It was absolutely wonderful.