Monica In May
Chapter One
Butch was my best friend way before I met, fell in love with, and over the course of time, married Monica. Butch and I had shared much over the years as single men. Alcohol binges, wild parties, and women. We were closer than brothers, so close that we knew everything about one another, save a secret or two.
We knew each other's likes and dislikes and trusted one another completely. Butch agreed with my choice of Monica as the right one to be my matrimonial mate.
He knew that I liked conservative, controlled, self-aware women, and was not surprised that I locked in with Monica, having observed these qualities in her, and having spent plenty of time around us in the beginning of our relationship.
He also showed no surprise when I announced to him that Monica was certifiably the one, and that in three months we would tie the knot. "Best man on board!" He yelled out in celebration.
Monica and I fit from the very start. I wouldn't go so far as to call us soulmates, as I'm not even sure what a soulmate is. But, the conversation was easy and flowed from subject to subject with ease.
She was open minded, smart, sexy, shapely, graceful, and attractive. Fuck yeah! All those. And she had a solid J.O.B.
We traveled together a lot learning each other's habits and ways, and exploring the spaces our freak zones inhabited. Turns out we also had that freaky thing in common.
Sometimes Monica and I role played, reaching a steep level of trust that allowed us to openly fantasize during lovemaking. Were our freaky fantasies a lead-in to experimenting in real life what we shared in the bed?
We hadn't experienced that as of yet. We'd role played double penetration, anal, in-laws, even steps. We had plenty of fun, but most of the time I was deep inside her womb telling her how good a fit her pussy was and she was doing the same with me.
We haven't judged each other's secret fantasies and desires, only enjoyed them. And so far we had managed to leave it all in the bedroom. But, that was soon to change.
Memphis In May is the annual Spring International Festival which honors a different foreign country every year.
It's a celebration of Memphis' historic music culture. Blues, Soul, Rock 'N' Roll, and the famous Beale Street. It's barbecue cook-off contests, and marathon K-long runs, and the fun goes on for the entire month of May.
But you have to be careful moving around in Memphis, it ain't for the faint of heart. We had experienced the magic of Memphis In May a few years back and it was fun then, but not knowing anyone we spent a few hotel days enjoying the festival and Mud Island Park, before it sadly started going downhill, then we headed back home.
Only four hours to the Northwest, going to Memphis was an easy day trip, and it has its share of memorable places, but without a good connection to help us navigate the city, it was more favorable to go East to the coast.
Fresh air and warm breezes were more suitable to our lifestyle than the sweltering southern heat.
We were married now two plus years and our sex life was still high energy. We fucked everywhere. At the beach, in the library stairwell, she even gave me head as we rolled through the car wash, and I finger fucked her during the matinee in the back row of the movie theater.
Chapter Two
Butch was still my best, and had become a friend to Monica. He often commented on how lucky I was to have attracted such a good looking, successful, willing partner.
I told him how she allowed me to explore my fantasies with her when we were making love, and got feverishly into it as much as I did.
But, I did not go as far as sharing her personal fantasies or even let on that she had any of her own, although one would come up every so often, how she would seduce and fuck him, "make him beg for this split meat," she would say.
"You'd make him beg for it baby? I'd ask, teasing her.
"Hell yeah, I'd let him get a good peek at my wet shit while I stroke his dick, but I wouldn't let him touch it until he begged me. And he would have to kiss it first."
She would then describe to me how she would finish fucking him, making him shoot his load in her pussy.
I would fuck her hard pretending I was Butch, telling her how much I had been wanting to taste her pussy, but that I had no idea she wanted to fuck me. But, now that I know, I was gonna beat that pussy good.
Monica would be damn near foaming at the mouth at this intense fantasy fuck. She liked to get in different positions and say, "come on Butch, fuck me like this!"
I would drive her to explore the depths of her fantasy, instigating her into a dick locking orgasm, screaming and pummeling the bed with her fists.
Afterwards, she would rest in my arms and tell me how much she loved me. No one ever allowed her to be herself, never allowed her the freedom to explore her sexual proclivities. "People are too uptight," she would say.
Then, one Winter day I got a call from Butch saying he had gotten a promotion and was moving in the Spring to, of all places, Memphis. He was excited, as we were for him. Because now we had that Memphis connection.
Only four hours by car, one hour in the air, Memphis was perfect. Another opportunity for us to plan for the next Memphis In May Festival.
I accompanied Butch on his first visit and was there when he secured the lease on a spacious two bedroom downtown apartment.
It had nice Opaque New York style Panoramic windows that stretched floor to ceiling, from the Living Room into the Master Bedroom. It had a lived-in exclusive look and feel, like a lot of Memphis did.
On Butch's final trip to his new home, Monica joined us. We had two vehicles loaded with his personal belongings. Due to my vehicle being loaded from trunk to front, Monica agreed to ride shotgun with Butch.
We left early Saturday morning and when we reached the outskirts of Memphis we stopped for breakfast. While Butch was in the restroom Monica laughingly said, "that Butch is horny."
"Really, I said. He literally told you that?"
"No, no, of course not. He wouldn't disrespect you like that. We had fun conversations about his ex- girlfriends and some of their exploits. Until he suddenly turned serious and got to the one he apparently is still in love with. A girl named Jessica, or Jessy."
"Yeah, that was before you came into the picture. They were together for four years, give or take. He tried really hard but faithfulness was never one of his strong suits. Butch loved her and she loved him. They shared everything, even went so far as sharing their cell phones. A little much for me," I said.
"That turned out to be a disaster. He was drunk one night and gave this chick his number, said some things he shouldn't have, which to this day he has no memory of, and she texted him the next day reminding him of the those sweet nothings, and guess what happened?"
"Jessy discovered the text messages," Monica answered knowingly.
"Pow! Done deal."
"You mean, after being together four long years she wouldn't forgive him?" Monica asked.
"Last I heard, they're in communication, but as of yet, no reconciliation."
"Here he comes, we'll talk later." she said.
We ate, discussed what we would do over the next two days, then got back on the highway to finish our drive.
By late afternoon we had both vehicles unloaded. The movers had already moved Butch's furniture in, so relaxing and sleeping tonight would not be a problem. We located a nearby barbecue joint for dinner.
Memphis was also known for its famous barbecue, rivaling Texas and Kansas City. At breakfast we started the fun.
We created a taste test grading system for ranking barbecue sandwich establishments we would visit. The goal was to hit at least five, including the one from the night before. Butch punched me in the arm and laughed, "I won't be eating any barbecue for a while after this weekend."
Dog tired after a long day, we returned to Butch's apartment, took showers, shared a nightcap and planned our itinerary for the next day.
Fortunate me. Monica still had enough energy left to do what we both like. She sucked my cock until I squirted a wad of hot cum down her throat, leading to a night of peaceful sleep.
Chapter Three
We were in it. It was Sunday afternoon, it was hot, and there were throngs of people at every venue we ventured into. Memphis, home of the Blues. B.B. King, Elvis, W.C. Handy were names we saw plastered in different places.
Isaac Hayes, Otis Redding and other famous names and sounds we heard throughout our stroll. We taste tested barbecue joints numbers two and three, settling in at number three under the covered outdoor patio enjoying the surroundings, and later, drinks.
We hoped to get our last two barbecue taste tests in tomorrow before leaving for home.
At one point in the evening, Monica temporarily excused herself. A frustrated look on his face, Butch looked over at me and said what one best friend can say unashamedly to another, "Rich, I need some pussy."
"Hey man, I understand. Didn't you tell me that you talked to Denise and she's coming up to see you in a couple of days, that's close?"
"Was coming. Looks like it's gonna be a couple of weeks. Can't leave her job at the moment and she has weekend classes. I have to focus on work, so travel for me is out too. I'll be okay, just needed to get my frustration out to a safe ear. You know how I get when I can't get."
"Don't I? You want to fuck everything that comes within reach of your sticky tentacles. Calm down dude, it's a new frontier, you'll meet someone, I told him. Look at all this pussy out here!" He looked around and smiled.
When Monica came back to the table I chuckled and said to her, "Butch is a little lonely...and horny."
"I knew it! Monica whooped, I knew it! It's okay baby, just take your time," she said, patting his hand, comforting him, at the same time celebrating her knack of discernment.
We arrived back at Butch's apartment with evening to spare. We compared barbecue sandwich notes and concluded that restaurant number two was leading the bunch so far. Their pulled pork sandwich was massive, moist, and smoked to full flavor.
