Ch. 08 Among Friends

Call me Reggie. Reginald reeks of formality, if not of lordliness. I've been kind of jittery lately. It could be the weight of great expectations.

To explain, my wife Becky and I have been attending her college reunions beginning with her tenth and have maintained Christmas card relations with two couples from her class. The attraction for us has been one girl in particular: the very sexy Lianne Parker. We admitted early on that we both were in love with her. Becky and I have enjoyed other sex partners both before and during our years together; nonetheless, recently we've been nursing the fantasy of opening up our marriage to Lianne and her husband Herb.

This spring at Becky's twentieth we ascended to "cloud nine" with the news that Herb and Lianne had started swinging with Bob and Anita. The two girls made the confidential announcement to Becky, coupled with the invitation for us to join them next month. My Quaker lady--the soul of propriety--responded coyly, "It sounds intriguing ... I know Reggie would enjoy that." In bed that evening we were giddy, each anxious to behold Lianne's lovely big boobies again and to diddle her prominent clit. During our foreplay Becky said softly, "Li told me that Bob has a big one."

"Oh, wonderful!" I returned. "I can hardly wait."

So as we dream this eternal month away, I guess I should explain how I got this way. "This way" is giving my loved one to our special friends for her and their pleasures.

My first gift was Daphne, the head cheerleader, back in high school. The donee was my teammate and best buddy, Art Bachelor. Art had a car, which facilitated our good times that included quite a few double dates.

Daphne and I had been going steady most of our junior year. She was no blushing violet: her outward thrusts had begun with her hairless pussy for the inspection of her elementary school admirers. Daphne's maturing attributes did even more for her popularity; her strawberry blond hair glittered; her creamy white legs were nothing short of statuesque beneath the flutter of her pleated mini-skirt; and her ample bosom was reminiscent of that of the late Jayne Mansfield. Even though I was in the Honor Society and Captain-elect of the football team, I was known as Daphne's lesser half. During the sexual revolution with condoms widely available, our high school became a contraceptive community; and she and I became practitioners. We were each other's first fuck--certainly a sentimental bond.

In May of that senior year, Art's girl, Beth, broke her ankle in lacrosse the day before a picnic we'd been planning. Nevertheless, the remaining three of us drove to our destination--a sunny glade away from civilization that Art had scouted.

Even though several times in Art's darkened car Daphne and I had consummated our love midst giggles and squishy sounds from both back and front seats, today it was to have been in broad daylight; so, with Beth back home, after lunch the situation was rather awkward. We all had been horny, thinking about it. Daphne had said she wanted to watch our friends fuck as Beth had told her how well Art was hung--which he was.

In the noon warmth dear Daph would not be denied and jauntily announced, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to catch some rays." She unbuttoned her shirt. "Help me take my bra off, Art. Beth says you're good at it."

Art looked at me quizzically, and I made the hand gesture of presentation. What else? Art fumbled the hooks and eyes like a nervous amateur. And then the lovely white globes were bare, having fallen an inch or two to their weighty freedom. I had never seen Daph's breasts before in the light of day and their appearance in the strong sunlight was breathtaking.

She kissed Art lightly and, turning to me, said, "Reggie, my shorts." Daphne was clearly in charge, and I tugged and eased both shorts and underpants together down over the heft of her hips and plump buns. A reddish blond pubic bush flared about her genital lips. The queen of our High School thousand stood smiling, delighted in the effect of her nude beauty upon her dazzled subjects. Her white skin, contrasting with her hair and the broad pale pink, lightly pebbled areas of her nipples, made her seem indeed the alabaster goddess of that forest world. The spell of several moments was somewhat dissipated by her regal demand: "Reggie, I want you to fuck me today, and I want Art to watch us. And because you're best friends, I want Art to fuck me too. I'll bet he'd let you fuck Beth if I had broken my ankle. Wouldn't you, Art?"

"Daph, are you sure you want to?" I parried weakly.

"You may not know this, but most girls dream of having two guys at once; and my dream has been of you two. Do you love me enough to let me fuck Art?"

"Well, I guess ... if Art wants to."

Joyously Art consented. And when we had disrobed, Daph and I beheld the root of Beth's cries and moans. His hard one was bigger than mine. Even during the course of our love-making, Daph could not restrain herself from fondling Art’s dong and jerking it intermittently. When it was his turn, she rolled his condom down his tall, fat erection and helped him find the center of her pink, wet heat. As he began to penetrate, she sucked the glans of my spent cock consolingly; then we all focused on Daph's wild wish for a second strong cock to her pussy's depth. When she cried, "Oh, yes, Art, fuck me good!" I cheered, "Yes, Art, fuck her good!"

In Art's jack-hammer driving to Daphne's strong returns, I discovered a wild delight. And to this day--given the right situation--to witness, or even to know of, another's enjoyment of my loved one's charms has remained one of my strongest sexual turn-ons. Even when home from college, we satisfied Daph's need for threesomes. And I realized Art's generosity toward me on several occasions. The most amazing of these came after we'd graduated from college and I was visiting graduate schools in his locality. He had a mid-week date with Lianne Parker, whom I recalled as a buxom lass who'd been to parties at our fraternity house, and he invited me to string along. Lianne we had both known as an extremely friendly girl who when she’d had a few drinks became extremely sexy. While dancing that evening, she would ride a strong thigh between my legs, and the twinkle in her brown eyes revealed that she liked the feel of my hardening cock.

Back at my hotel, all three of us were hot for it! Even though she'd been drinking beer with us earlier, she really got into the peach brandy I had on hand, just in case. We were all laughing while we danced and kissed. That she loved to swap tongues was an indication that she'd be a good fuck, and she was eager to strip when Art suggested it. Physically, Art and I agreed, Lianne was a brunette Daphne. Her breasts are truly amazing! She loved our sucking the broad brown nipples, erect with her desire; and when she parted her thighs to my touch, her vaginal lubrication was a freshet of slippery warmth. I simply had to taste her, and she let me suck her prominent clit and delicious pussy. Lianne was beautifully responsive to my tongue-teasing: indeed that evening she proved to be multiply orgasmic. She was keen to have us both fuck her bare, as long as we pulled out in time. It was a dreamy evening! She fucked us as we'd not been fucked before.

Coming back for some follow-up interviews at the University, I, of course, called her. She suggested that we have drinks in town, which we had along with an amazingly pleasant conversation--considering that its result was to quash my lustful intentions.

She explained that, when we had had our threesome, she was pinned to Herb Wood, three classes behind Art and me. His intense loving, she said, was all tease and no action. In her frustration she had "set her cap" for Art but was happily surprised by the appearance of "his nice classmate." It was our wonderful evening of close dancing, she said, that made her want me too. Hence the orgy at my hotel. "Do you realize that I was a virgin that night?" Lianne whispered. I was flabbergasted at that announcement; but in all humility I sensed my important role in the life of a wonderful person.

“You fuck beautifully,” I said.

"O, Reggie, the things you did to me made me so ready, and your loving was so satisfying! I'm lucky to have had you and Art as my first deep lovers. I know you remember that Friday night at the house last year when you saved me from being gang- banged. I was pissed at the time, but this last month I’ve been thanking my lucky stars for my Greek God who swept me away from the rabble and carried me to your own bed when in your wisdom you knew my cunt was ready for you….However, because Herbie and I have now consummated our love, please consider our night together as a beautiful memory. Okay? ….Thank you, darling Reggie.” And then we kissed.

"But, Reggie," she continued, "as you'll be around here next year, I think you should meet my friend Becky. She's a darling girl. An English major with a neat sense of humor. She comes from a Quaker family and has not been sexually active up to now. I think you would treat her nicely ... She has a heart of gold and merits a really good man!"

"Sounds intriguing," I observed. "I'm a Quaker myself--but a modern one."

Consequently, my indebtedness to Lianne abides: not only did she give me her own virginity but also she gave me my Becky-bird! She was so right: Becky was, and is, a beautiful lady. Her slight body is alive and expressive--with the energy of a wren.

My courtship was controlled and cautious at a low but steady rate. She told me that I was her coach and that she wanted to please me with her play. My own enthusiasm for mutual masturbation and oral loving she shared, but I did not mention the addition of another loved one until we'd been married for a year. Even in an open marriage some diplomacy is called for--especially if it has not yet opened!

From the beginning we valued sharing our inmost feelings. Secrecy has a way of isolating, which invites extra-marital temptations, the guilt of which is a serpent that shreds and consumes a family's well being. If Becky and I were to enjoy the company of others and entertain prurient desires, we agreed, it would even strengthen our marriage to acknowledge these desires. Their fulfillment should depend on our joint wisdom concerning the welfare of our union.

In our pillow talk the possibility of a third party took shape in our confessions and fantasies. With my lust for her best friend, Lianne, I admitted how thrilled I would be to have Li join our love-making, for us to massage her heavy breasts with oil, plucking her nipples hard and long, and for Becky to orally make her ready for my pent-up sperm.

But how could I proffer my best friend, Art, as a potential partner for Becky-bird? Even before we were married I harbored images of her spreading her lovely legs to him. Aside from my own excitement, I wanted it for each of them. Becky so deserved his big cock and strong fucking. I think my telling how much Lianne had enjoyed the two of us sparked her tentative interest, which became more definite with time.

She did discover Art to be a fun companion, and after dinner during his third visit, she floored us with the following proclamation: "Listen, you two guys, Reggie's stories have piqued my curiosity--stories of fun with your buxom cheerleader--Was her name Debbie?--and of how you teamed up to give Lianne Parker a memorable evening. I was wondering ... Might the touchdown twins have enough pizzazz left for another scrimmage tonight?"

It was a long game with three happy winners. Art made several returns to our bedroom before he was captured and carried away by an heiress to an industrial empire in the mid-west.

Becky has been a terrific sport. Further, she always thinks of the other person that we might be involving. For instance, she encouraged my co-marital affair with Adrienne, our widowed neighbor. Of course, she and Archie had been good friends of ours: Adie, a former number two on her college tennis team, had been my doubles partner in Park Department competition; and the girls frequently hit the antique trail together.

In her bereavement we noticed a waning of our friend's sense of humor and of her self-possession. We instinctively drew her to us: our hugging was more frequent and of longer duration. After several months Adie hinted that she had been masturbating regularly and wanted to become sexually active again. This led Becky to confess that we both wanted me to be her occasional lover. Thereafter when we three were together we became openly lovey-dovey, and when the rich flush would creep up Adie's throat, Becky would kiss us both knowingly, send us to bed, and excuse herself to correct papers.

A 5' 10" brunette, Adrienne had long beautifully muscled legs, which I had for years imagined girdling my neck in love. Additionally, the first time I pulled her bra down over her big pointy breasts, I was amazed at how they popped up and out in their new freedom. Their firmness and sensitivity belied her forty-seven years. She loved foreplay and became increasingly verbal during our mounting excitement. After she told me that Archie had never given her oral sex, her invitations for me to partake were maddeningly seductive. She would spread wide and present her vulva, which seemed but a slit through the plentiful dark hair of her prominent pubic mound--enticing me to seek and find. She would scream softly as I tongue-teased the shapely legs of my dreams on the way to her yearning clitoris. In after-play, her sense of fun returned. "You're a slow worker," she once beamed. "It's taken you six years to get me into bed!" She referred to herself as "Sir Reginald's courtesan." Later, more seriously: "Becky's a lucky girl--and so is Adrienne. Can't we be lucky together?"

This suggestion for a threesome was heaven-sent to Becky, whose interest in Adie's new-found satisfactions had been piqued by her cries of incitation and ecstasy, audible in the most remote sections of our homes. Of course, my guilt at being extra-maritally active without Becky's compensatory pleasure was relieved.

Even more exciting to us, however, was Becky's confession to having a serious crush on my talented midfielder Bill Faxon. Her sympathy for his tragic family situation and her concern for his psychological development led to a blessed intimacy. It was an important turn of events for all three of us. I so wanted her to feel the length of Bill's strong penis, and for him to know the glow of her sexual excitement and experience the exquisite shudder of her orgasms.

As for our current fantasies, with the prospect of swinging with Becky's classmates, we're both very hopeful that she'll have the chance to fuck Herb and then Bob while the rest of us watch!

Our gifts of love have been without regret and ever so satisfying to us. Our sex has been fun--especially so in the context of loving friendship. That's the Quaker way that Becky-bird and I go together.