Jessie

My name is Harrold Bishop. I'm about to tell you a story that not even I would believe if it was told to me. I'm putting pen to paper under duress, possibility a threat. There are five other people who do believe this story and they've dared me to tell it in a way that's believable. They've made all sorts of enticing, imaginative and desirable promises if I can, make it believable that is, and other, not so desirable promises if I can't.

I'm a generally healthy, thirty-eight year old male. I was generally non-sexual during high school, engaging in only the usual activities that most (all?) pubescent males engage in. Freshman year of college things changed. I met Jennine when I was nineteen. Jennie and I shared an introductory course in English Composition. We shared our research on a mid-term project and, within two weeks of meeting, we shared a bed.

Jennie was a tornado sexually and she set off an explosion in me that continues to this day. We were insatiable for each other. We married halfway through our sophomore year and fucked our way to degrees in engineering three years later.

We've been married for eighteen years and life has been good to us economically. We bought a mid sized three-bedroom house on 17th street two years after graduation and we still live there thirteen years later. The only disappointment has been the lack of children. No matter how careless we were, no matter how many times we fucked without protection, Jennie never got pregnant. When we realized that children weren't in our future we concentrated on each other. Every day, several times a day, we poked, prodded, sucked and fucked each other with abandon. It was as if neither of us could get enough of each other.

About six years ago, Jennie began to have some physical difficulties. Nothing really serious that the doctors could identify. She just didn't have the stamina to support an every day, multi-session, sexual romp. Her enthusiasm was unaffected, just her ability to sustain the frequency.

We began to reduce the number of times we had sex to allow her time to recover after each session. It helped her enormously and we continued to enjoy each other with our usual fervor, until we missed a day.

By the end of the day, I was suffering both emotionally and physically. I understood the emotional aspect of not having sex with Jennie. I loved her and the deeply emotional nature of our relationship had dominated my psyche for eighteen years. The physical problem was more of a mystery. When we finally had sex, I ejaculated so much semen that it flooded out of her while I was still inside her and when I withdrew, the volume leaking from her was incredible. I found that I could relieve some of the pressure by masturbating during the days off.

Masturbating didn't sit well with Jennie. In all the years we had been together, neither of us had ever masturbated and, in her mind, she was somehow responsible. She tried to help the situation. She couldn't just lie on her back and take me. We tried. She just couldn't keep herself from participating fully and the effort cost her physically. Hand jobs and blowjobs helped me but didn't relieve her guilt.

I went to the doctor. He told me I had a rare case of hyperspermia. The usual causes were the onset of dementia. Other symptoms included a increase in the viewing of pornography. I had none of the associated symptoms or activities. He also told me I had an abnormally enlarged prostate he called prostatic hyperplasia. For most men it wasn't a problem and it certainly wasn't for me. It didn't normally result in excess production of semen but he was open to the possibility. I visited a therapist to evaluate if I had an underlying mental condition leading to the problem without result. In the end, the problem wasn't affecting my health. The doctor thought I had been experiencing the syndrome for quite a while and it was masked by my frequent sexual releases. Masturbation or more frequent sex was his recommendation.

Jennie wouldn't allow masturbation. More frequent sex was the only solution she'd consider and hand jobs and blowjobs didn't count. However, she wasn't up to the requirement.

"Harrold," she told me, "you have to have more sex."

"How is that possible?" I asked. "I refuse to force you to have sex with me."

"I'll do what I can for you," she responded, "but you need to get laid more often than I can manage."

"I'm not going to fuck prostitutes," I protested. "They're expensive and I'm not going to risk disease or worse."

"I agree with you, prostitutes aren't the answer."

"Then what is the answer?" I asked. "I'm not going to shop the bars looking for sex partners for the evening."

"I wouldn't want you to," she said.

"Then what?" I asked again.

Coincidently, our next door neighbor had lost her husband two years ago. I came home from work one day and Jennie wasn't home although her car was in the driveway. About twenty minutes later, Jennie came through the front door.

"Where have you been?" I asked concerned.

"Next door."

"Next door?"

"Yes. I had a nice long talk with Jessica."

"Jessica? The widow lady?"

"That's her," Jessie confirmed.

It is important to note, that while our houses are close together, we rarely have any interaction with our neighbors. I knew our next door neighbor had died, but I didn't know his wife's name nor could I remember how she looked. I could have passed her in the market and not recognized her as our neighbor.

"I walked over to talk with her when I saw her outside earlier," Jessie continued. "Honestly, I thought, in the moment, that she might be a solution to our problem but I hadn't the slightest idea how to raise the subject. I was just winging it. I asked how she was doing.

"She told me she was fine but she missed Fred, that was her husband's name, terribly. You know me, I wasn't going to let that opening, as small as it was, to go without a response. She had tears in her eyes so I put an arm around her shoulders and suggested we go inside where she could tell me all about it. You'd think no one had ever offered her solace about the loss of her husband. She immediately accepted my offer.

"We went inside. I made tea for both of us and we talked."

"This is getting interesting," I offered.

"It certainly was," responded Jennie. Once she started talking, the dam burst. She was remarkably open and honest. She told me that Fred and she had a wonderful sharing relationship with lots of physical 'stuff.' Since his death, she had relied on various toys and videos without satisfaction and she was 'loosing her mind' slowly.

"I took the opportunity to briefly describe our situation and suggest a solution for both of us.

"Is this going where I think it is?" I asked.

"You're damn straight it is," Jennie said. "She thought about what I offered and warmed up to it in about five minutes."

"And?"

"She wants to fuck you."

"That easy?"

"No. It wasn't easy for me at all. Just thinking about you fucking her is something I have to get a grip on. I can do it. It just isn't easy."

"I'm not easy with it either. I don't even remember what she looks like."

"Does that matter?"

"It does. She doesn't have to be a model or movie star but I don't think the Wicked Witch of the West will appeal to either my mind or body."

"You can judge for yourself. She'll be here in about fifteen minutes."

"Here? Now? Really?"

"Yes, really. I invited her to dinner."

"And?"

"That too, if you're both on the same page."

"Shit."

"That's not on the agenda. Just sex. Trust me. You'll not be disappointed."

"Okay. I'll trust you, but I reserve the right of refusal."

"Only if you refuse tastefully and don't insult her in the process."

"I can live with that."

The doorbell rang about ten minutes later. Jennie met our guest at the door, showed her into the kitchen where I was waiting and introduced us. "Jessica, this is my husband, Harry," she said.

Jessica put out her hand to shake. I didn't respond immediately. Jessica was a surprise. She was about ten years older than Jessie with a few extra pounds in all the right places. She had raven hair cut to about shoulder length and a pretty face with a straight nose, moderately plump lips and blazing green eyes.

I took her hand and held on for a few seconds. I hope not too eagerly. "Very nice to meet you," I said a little too loudly. My cock was as focused as I was. I could have jumped her bones right there, on the kitchen floor, if that had been the plan. As it was, I think I restrained myself very well.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Jessie split the portions three ways and we ate at the kitchen table. Conversation circled through many topics, the neighborhood, the weather and why we hadn't known each other better before this. Everything but the real purpose why we were sharing a meal. That is, until Jessie inserted a non sequitur, "Well, Jessica, what do you think?" she asked.

Suddenly, I felt like a display mannequin.

"He's quite a handsome gentleman," she answered diplomatically.

"How about you, Harry? What do you think?" asked Jessie.

Like a deer in the headlights, I was transfixed, unable to speak. I have no idea why. In my youth I would have jumped at the chance to answer and more.

"He's doesn't have to answer," said Jessica. "He's already undressed me in his imagination a half dozen times since we sat down. I think that all the answer I need."

"Okay, then," offered Jessie. "Why don't you two go into the living room and get to know each other better while I clean up in here?"

Jessica stood up and took my hand. I stood up and followed her into the living room. She sat on the sofa and I sat next to her, close enough to hold hands but not much more.

"Tell me Harry," Jessica opened. "How many times did you mentally undress me inside?"

"Am I that transparent?" I asked.

"Not transparent. Actually, fairly solid," she added looking down my body.

Ignoring the knocking of my erection against the inside of my trousers for the moment, I asked, "Jessica, after Jessie, you're probably the most attractive woman on the block. This whole thing is Jessie's idea. Are you really okay with it?"

"Honestly, at first I was very hesitant. You have to admit it's a audacious proposition, especially with as little notice as we've both had. However, you're a real gentleman and you remind me of a fellow I was taken by, literally, in college and he was a lot of fun."

"Thank you for the little boost in my ego. But are you okay with just sex?"

"That's the last hurdle isn't it?" she answered. "With Fred it was never just sex. Even in college it was never just sex. I always had something more that eased my guilt and reminded me that I wasn't just another college coed slut."

In spite of my anticipation and the jackhammer in my pants, I paused to consider what she said. She was right. It has to be more than just sex. Otherwise, it's no different than a hand job or masturbation. "I agree," I said. "Just sex isn't enough. Are you open for a little experiment?" I asked.

"Sure. I have nothing to lose except my panties."

I reached over to her, took her chin in my hand and kissed her lightly on the lips before I sat back. When I looked, she had her eyes closed and was sliding her tongue between her lips.

"Okay?" I asked.

"You may have turned on the gas. Care to light my fire?" she asked.

I leaned in and kissed her again. She slid closer to me. My one arm was around her shoulders and my other hand on her waist. She had one arm around my neck and the other hand on my thigh. We kissed like that for longer than necessary.

"Ignition," she said when we stopped to breathe. She stood up, took my hand and led me in the direction of the bedrooms. I looked in the kitchen as we walked by. Jessie smiled and blew me a kiss before returning the kitchen duty.

In the hallway, Jessica stopped and silently asked which way. I indicated to the right, the master bedroom. Inside, she dropped my hand and closed the door. When she went to lock it, I said, "Not necessary."

She looked questioningly at me, shrugged and left the door unlocked. She came to me and we kissed again. This time with open mouths with lots of tongue and hasty breathing in and out of each other. "Blast off," she said as she stepped back and began to remove her clothing. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched, my erection straining as each article of clothing dropped on the floor.

When she was wearing just a bra and panties, she looked at me for a second and then turned around slowly. When she was facing me again, I nodded my approval. She took off her bra. Her breasts were perfectly formed and sagging slightly from a wide base. Her nipples rested flat on her breasts with a slight elevation revealing their arousal. Next, she slipped off her panties. She had a slight bulge in her body above her pubis. Her pubic hair confirmed her hair color with just a hint of gray scattered throughout. Her inflated labia extended below her triangle and glistened in the dim light of the bedroom.

She turned around again. I licked my lips this time. She stood me up and started to remove my clothing. When she freed my erection from its prison, she gasped audibly. She recovered quickly and pushed me back on the bed. "I'm ready for orbit insertion," she said.

Before I had a chance to adjust my docking position, she was settled down on me with our pubic bones touching. Jessica spent a few moments checking the seal and then executed a series of maneuvers to maximize our pleasure. She was vocal about her climax and astounded at the size of mine.

Back in the living room, we shared after dinner drinks with Jessie. "So, have you guy's reached an agreement?" she asked.

"We have," said Jessica. "At least I have. How about you, Harrold?"

"Jessica did an excellent job of dealing with my problem. She's provided me with significant relief."

"He means, he took me to the moon and fired his retro rockets," added Jessica.

I laughed at her choice of words.

"Why the giggle?" asked Jessie.

"I think he's referring to my descriptions during our mission," answered Jessica. "Fred was a rocket scientist and I'm afraid his vocabulary was part of our experience. "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all," I interjected. "You were married to Fred for a long time and he'll always be part of you just as Jessie's part of me. You and I in the bedroom without Jessie and Fred are probably not possible."

Jessie and Jessica's nursing skills kept me "healthy" for many months. Between them, I rarely had a day off and, on many days, I was treated to a double header, sometimes sequentially and other times tandemly. I checked in with my doctor every month or so and he was more than satisfied with my health. My therapist also felt that Jennie's solution to my medical problem was good for both my physical and mental health. In fact, she was interested in following my progress and suggested monthly visits at a discounted rate. It was too good to last forever, and it didn't.

As expected, Jessie and Jessica couldn't maintain the pace that my ailment required. Together, without consulting me, they began to search for additional support help. Bea, the librarian from the downtown branch of the county library, was the first volunteer they agreed upon.

One Wednesday evening, Jessie, Jessica and Bea were waiting for me when I got home from work. The Bea that was sitting in our living room was nothing like the Bea I remembered from the library. The Bea I remembered wore oval, rimless glasses, perched precariously on the end of her nose. Her hair was pulled back in a bun punctured with several yellow pencils and her face was dominated by thin lips that seemed to always be scowling. I had little impression of her body since she seemed to be always sitting behind her large desk wearing loose, almost baggy, clothing.

The Bea that greeted me that evening was a desirable creature with long dark hair, wide luminous eyes and full, soft lips. She was wearing a tight sweater with long sleeves over a short skirt that rested on her thighs well above her knees. I suspected why she was there and I sat opposite the women expectantly.

By the time Jessie explained to me the problem she and Jessica had and the need for reinforcements, I was uncomfortably stiff as my rising erection had caught in the fly of my briefs. When Jessie told me that Bea was a concerned third party and was eagerly anticipating adding her assistance to relieve my problem, I was forced to adjust my erection or risk serious consequences. Of course the ladies noticed and Bea actually clapped her hands in front of her face, unable to hide her expectations.

I didn't question how they had approached Bea or why she was volunteering her assistance. My body was already in "let's get on with it" mode, that I was trying to politely contain with my outward demeanor. I correctly calculated that the fewer questions I asked the sooner we would move forward.

Once we all understood the plan for the rest of the evening, Jessie led the three of us upstairs to our bedroom and sat me on the bed. Jessie and Jessica then began to undress Bea, slowly. I think they had planned this part of the script in advance as Bea seemed to concur with their activity although, at times, I noticed she raised a hand to speed things along before lowering it again when either of the other two stopped her.

Naked, Bea was a wonder. She was younger than I originally thought, possibly in her late twenties, and her breasts met every expectation promised by the tight sweater she had worn earlier. Her breasts were large for her age and sat prominently on her chest without sag. But the real surprise was her nipples. Her dark nipples stood out from her breasts at least a half inch or more, pointing directly at me as I sat on the bed.

Jessie turned Bea around in front of me slowly and paused when her back was to me. She bent Bea over, stretching the skin on her heart shaped ass and exposing the puffy labia of her pussy to me between her thighs. When Bea faced me again, Jessie asked, "Well, what do you think?"

"I stopped thinking in the living room," I responded as I adjusted myself again.

That's all it took. Bea stepped up to the bed between my legs while the others stripped off their clothes and climbed up on the bed, flanking me on either side. Bea stood there, offering herself to me and waiting for me to accept. I reached out and held her hips. I slid my hands up from her hips, alongside her torso and then under each breast before holding a breast in each hand. They were magnificent, firm and large enough. I pictured them getting larger as she aged.

I rubbed her nipples with my thumbs. Bea climbed up on the bed, straddling my legs, put one hand on the back of my head and pulled it forward toward her breast that she was holding up in her other hand. I savored the feel as her as an even larger nipple slipped between my lips and entered my mouth. I used my tongue to circle her nipple and gently snap it side to side. Each time I let her nipple slip off my tongue, her body reacted reflexively until she couldn't hold still. She switched to the other breast and I repeated my activity. Bea moaned loudly and her body stiffened in response.

Jessie and Jessica watched us closely as they rubbed and pinched their own breasts.

Bea slipped off me back onto the floor and began to unbutton my shirt. She was over anxious and fumbled with the buttons. Jessie and Jessica leaned in to help her and she redirected her efforts to my belt and removing my trousers.

Several minutes later, I was as naked as the rest of them. Bea's eyes bulged as she stared at my painfully large erection. She leaned in and took me into her mouth. She was good. Too good for me to last very long. Jessie leaned forward and whispered something in Bea's ear. Bea nodded, abandoned her oral efforts, pushed me back on the bed, climbed up on me and pushed herself down on me until I was buried deeply inside her. I wasn't going to last long inside her either. Bea moved her body with youthful abandon and flexed her muscles rhythmically until I could stand it no longer. I spent everything I had until it was flowing out of her alongside my cock and puddling on the bed.