Pete 2

Author's note:

This continues the "Ken" story and focuses on Mel, Ken's mother, and her relationship with her neighbor, Pete.

Reading Ken's story isn't required since I believe this story stands alone, but it might be fun to read it anyway.

(Literotica: 26 July 2018 -- https://

www.literotica.com/s/ken-1)

My name is Melonie Jackson Kent. I'm forty-two years old and I've been married for twenty-two of them. My husband is one of the nicest people you'd ever want to meet. He's sensitive, philanthropic and a great provider. He's not a bad lover either. His name is Clark. Yes, that's Clark, like in Clark Kent.

The story, as I've heard it, is that his father was a big fan of Marvel comics and insisted his son be named after the world's greatest superhero. Clark has lived with the consequences of that insistence his entire life. His middle name is Michael. Michael is his father's name. Clark is not particularly fond of that moniker either, given that his father was generally a little known failure at almost everything he tried and who would rather read a comic book than write one. It's my personal conclusion that Clark's father wanted desperately to be a superhero, or at least be near one, so he named his son Clark Michael so he would vicariously be associated with a superhero forever.

As a result, my husband goes by the name Ed. Most don't even know what his real name is and no one uses it except me, when I'm pissed at him.

As I said, Ed is sensitive and often offers to help others, particularly when they have problems. About eight months ago, our neighbor, Pete, lost his wife after a long battle with cancer. Pete is in his late forties and losing Lacie was a staggering blow. Ed spent considerable time with Pete just offering consolation and whatever assistance Pete needed. I cooked meals for him and took them over since he preferred to isolate himself and refused to come to our house for dinner. I frequently joined Ed and Pete in the evenings talking with Pete about his memories and trying to get him to think about the future.

Ed and I also talked about Pete's situation when were home together. "You know," said Ed, one evening after he returned from Pete's house, "Pete's really struggling with losing Lacie's attraction for him."

"What are you referring to?" I asked.

"Well, a man his age is used to a certain amount of sexual activity. It's been over five months since Lacie died and he's been without a woman's touch for a long time. I think its beginning to surface and it's causing him additional discomfort," Ed explained.

"I think you may be right. I can imagine most women would have the same urges if their man was suddenly gone. But what can we do about it? I don't think we can go out and procure a woman for him."

"No, I don't think we can," Ed continued. "I don't think he'd accept it even if we were successful."

We sat there, thinking for a few moments when Ed said, "You know, when we're together, I've noticed Pete surreptitiously glancing at you more often of late."

"Wait just a minute, Clark Michael Kent," I said. "I don't like the direction you're implying. I have no attraction to Pete in that way, nor do I plan to have one even though I have compassion for his situation. I'm not something you can loan out like some garden tool."

"I'm not suggesting either one. I did wonder, however, if he made the first move, how you might handle it."

We left it there that evening.

Ed is a terrific provider. His job pays more than we need and the benefits are outstanding. However, the job does come with some realities. One of the most challenging is that Ed has to travel extensively for the company. Sometimes he's away for a week, or more, at a time. A short time after our discussion, he left for Asia on an important assignment with no firm return date. He couldn't share what the project was legally and he apologized for the extended nature of the trip. When he left he told me he'd do whatever he could to move the negotiations along and he'd keep me informed. He laughingly told me he'd try to give me at least twenty-four hours notice before he came home so I could get the partygoers out of the house and clean up.

I was alone, thinking about the last conversation we had about Pete. I too wondered what I would do if Pete made the first move. Pete was an attractive man. Lacie had been a wonderful neighbor and a beautiful and attentive wife.

I didn't have to wait long. The Monday after Ed left, I answered the door and Pete was standing there. I could tell from the expression on his face that he wasn't there to borrow a cup of sugar. I can't explain it but I invited him in. In retrospect, that simple act of courtesy sealed the deal. We sat in the kitchen and had coffee and cake and had an uncomfortable conversation. Somehow, Pete was unable to ask to "borrow" what he had come over for. We were standing to say goodbye at the front door when he suddenly leaned in and kissed me on the lips. There was more need than passion in the kiss.

Something popped and I immediately knew how I would respond to the situation Ed had postulated. Ed's compassion, my womanly instinct and Pete's need coalesced in one ignoble instant and I kissed Pete back with passion.

The rest was inevitable. We staggered into the bedroom and soon had our clothes off. Under the circumstances, neither of us had time for preliminaries or foreplay. I was on my back and Pete was inside me less than ten seconds later. I actually enjoyed myself and managed to turn us over so I was on top at the end.

Unfortunately, Monday was the day that my son, Kenny, had early dismissal from school. He came into the house when I was too occupied to notice. Somehow he found his way to the bedroom door which I had carelessly left open a crack. He saw what he was not supposed to see. My sixth sense fired but I ignored it to focus on more immediate sensations. Kenny left without a sound.

After Pete left, I sat in the kitchen with a cup of coffee wondering why I was uneasy. I had committed the worse sin against my marriage that I could imagine but we had been alone. Nobody knew what we had done. At least I convinced myself that nobody knew.

But the clues kept piling up. I found an empty glass in the dishwasher that I was sure I hadn't put there and when Kenny came home for dinner he was unusually quiet and reserved. I knew something was wrong in his world and he usually was more willing to share his concerns with me. He was avoiding talking to me about it and that meant it probably involved me in some way.

After dinner, I tracked him to his room and insisted he talk to me. He refused but his body language said he was seriously conflicted. I took a calculated chance and asked him directly if he had come home early and seen me with Pete. That broke the ice. He confessed and so did I. I told him as much as I thought he could handle.

Under his probing, I told him about Pete's situation and dad's concerns. I emphasized that, while dad had raised the possibility, he knew nothing about it and I implored him to keep my confidence. In that moment, keeping it secret from my husband was paramount. I needed some way to involve my son such that if I fell, he would fall with me. I was already in deep water, so what, I figured, if it was a little deeper. I turned to womanly wiles to help my cause.

I touched my son in ways no mother should and got the anticipated result. With his body demanding an unusual volume of blood and his diminished capacity to think clearly, I offered him a deal. I offered the same things to him that I had offered to Pete that afternoon. His ability to think wasn't completely impaired. He wanted time to think about it. I gave him until dinner the next night or the deal was off.

At dinner the next evening, Kenny asked for a few simple changes and accepted my offer. The water deepened and I dove in headfirst. I'm not going to go into detail but that night left me panting, exhausted and hungry for more. The fact that Ken, he made me swear not to call him Kenny, was my son was completely forgotten. So was my commitment to Ed and my dalliance with Pete.

The next couple of days were a sexual escapade. We had more sex in forty-eight hours that I had had in the previous six months. Where Ed was reserved and considerate of my body, Ken was hungry, inquisitive and demanding. I had awakened his sexual appetite and he was determined to gorge on my body.

Simultaneously, Ken's relationship with Penny, a longtime family friend and schoolmate, blossomed. There had to be a connection in that both happened at the same time but I never knew what it was. Never the less, Ken and Penny's relationship deepened and he became less involved with me than on those first nights together. I realized the importance of a chance for real romance in his future and supported it wholeheartedly. I made fewer demands on him and encouraged his relationship with Penny, even going so far as to cover for Penny with her mother while they stole a weekend away together.

So, here I am. Ken and Penny are in the blissful stages of young love and, I assume, sex and I've had a taste of something I can't forget. I know I'm being disrespectful of Ed, but I think I can get him to understand, as long as I only fool around with Pete.

When Ed finally got home from Asia, we had another discussion about Pete. I told him about Pete's apparent distress and asked him if his earlier comment about a discrete resolution had been serious. He reiterated his approval and even offered that, with his travel schedule, it might actually be good for me. Knowing where I was would eliminate one concern he had about my welfare. Now I only had to bring Pete to the table and into my bed.

The next day, I brazenly went over to Pete's house and told him how much I had enjoyed our time together and, if he felt the need, he shouldn't feel hesitant to stop by.

Pete didn't take me up on my offer immediately. I was starting to feel unattractive and horny. Ed handled the horny me like the trooper he was but I needed attention and complements from another man as well. When Ed traveled, I had no Ed, no Ken and no Pete. I only had my trusty new vibrator and his friend the dildo.

Ken left for college, with Penny, in mid-August and Ed left on a weekend business trip soon after. Before Ed's car turned the corner at the end of the block, Pete was at my back door. When I opened the door, he handed me a single white rose. I invited him in and we sat in the kitchen, talking over coffee. Pete apologized for not accepting my offer earlier but he wanted to be extra cautious. He told me he had thought about coming over several times but either Ed was home or Ken was hanging around. When he saw Ken stuffing his car with stereo equipment and duffel bags on Thursday and Ed getting into his car with his suitcase, he came right over. We talked about small things in our respective lives but not the elephant in the room, sex.

Eventually, I grew impatient, took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom. The bed hadn't been made but I didn't care. I began to strip off my clothes and told him to do the same. He stood naked in front of me but he didn't make a move so I did. I grabbed his slack cock and began to stroke it. When it reached half-mast, I knelt down and took it into my mouth. Between my mouth and one hand, the other was busy fondling his balls, he reached maximum rigidity and, shortly later, he pulsed hot goo into my mouth. I swallowed as much as I could but some seeped from my lips. I wiped most of it off with the back of my hand and stood up in front of him again. He was smiling but still seemed unable to move. I kissed him with my sticky lips and then pushed him down until he was tongue level with my very stiff nipples. I pushed one tit into his mouth and he got the idea. He more than made up for his earlier delay. He used both hands to hold my tits up and together. He pressed his face into and between my breasts. He used his tongue, lips and teeth to tickle, suck and gently bite my nipples. He was so insistent that I began to feel dizzy and I fell back onto the bed.

When I did, his face slipped lower on my body. He wasted no time in continuing down, dragging his tongue along my torso and through my navel as he did. On the way, he found my clitoris and spent just enough time there with his talented trio to cause me to squirm and buck my hips to the sound of Melanie moaning. His fingers found what his mouth hadn't reached and entered me easily. I was seeping fluid. He stood up between my legs, rubbed the head of his resurrected cock on my sopping lips and entered me. Two strokes later he was in as far as he could reach. My legs came up in reflex and he held them over his shoulders as he plunged into me repeatedly.

He picked me up and somehow managed to crawl to the center of the bed without loosing a beat. Soon I had my legs over my head, holding them in place with my hands behind my knees. Pete was over me, supporting himself on the backs of my thighs and going for all he was worth. I was floating somewhere between consciousness and paradise. My vocabulary had been reduced to just three words -- "Yes! ... Yes!! ... Yes!!!"

Pete didn't cum but I did. I fired everything I had straight up in the air, coating Pete's chest and my torso with warm slime.

Pete let my legs down and we rolled on our sides with him still inside me. We lay there for five minutes while I settled down. I could feel him moving slightly inside me and twitching to keep his erection hard. I took a deep breath and rolled over on top of him. I began to ride his erection like a stick shift I was trying to get into fifth gear. He slid up on the bed, pulling me with him, until he could sit up with his back supported on the headboard. Now he could easily fondle my breasts, suck my nipples and kiss me.

This time he came and so did I. I rested on top of him and I felt his cock shrink inside me until it was almost free. I rose up, his cock fell out and ounces of mixed bodily fluids fell on our already messy bodies. I rolled off him, took his sticky cock in one hand and said, "Nice job, neighbor."

"Always ready to please," he responded.

Later, after we had showered, sadly separately, and dressed, we again sat in the kitchen over coffee and cake. We talked about how things would go in the future. He wanted us to be together frequently but he was also clear about being discrete. He valued Ed's friendship and didn't want to rock the boat. Even when I told him that Ed was on board with what we had done and had even suggested it, he was adamant. No sex when Ed, Ken or anyone else was nearby.

I asked him to spend the night but he declined. He said he didn't feel right sleeping in another man's bed. I told him I understood even as I thought, "He's okay fucking the other man's wife in the same bed."

We sat and talked until Pete felt it was time for him to leave. We stood up together in the kitchen. I leaned in to kiss him and he responded. While we were kissing, I reached down and managed to get his penis out of his pants and quite hard. I stepped back, slipped my yoga pants and panties off one leg and bent over the table. He got the idea and we had a delightful, but quick, goodbye fuck.

My relationship with Pete strengthened over the next six months. Interestingly, sex with Ed got more adventurous as well. It was as if they were growing in tandem. Since I was the only common factor, I had to assume I was unconsciously leading both men. That caused me to think about how much influence I had and where I could take it.

I looked forward with my time with both Ed and Pete. Pete was the more daring; willing to try something new. However, he never played with my ass. It was the only thing he didn't play with. It was as if he was deliberately avoiding it. I was spending some time on the internet and anal play seemed to be common. I became determined to change Pete's aversion to anal intercourse.

One afternoon, while Ed was in Europe, Pete and I spent some quality time naked and unafraid. While we were resting after the second round, I began to play with his equipment and soon had if up for round three. I climbed on top of him and slid down until he was fully buried in my pussy. When I judged he was amply lubricated, I slid up on him and caught his erection as it fell out of me. I shifted slightly and used my hand to rub the head of his cock against my anal sphincter. Pete looked at me and mouthed the word, "Really?" I smiled and nodded as I continued to lubricate my ass. Pete did not object as he lay back and closed his eyes.

With Pete's tacit approval, I lubricated my ass, dipped into my pussy again for more grease and then positioned my anus directly over his erection and pressed down. My anal muscle resisted but I persisted. Eventually, the head of Pete's cock popped through my opening and I had about an inch of hard cock in my ass. The intense feeling caught me by surprise and I had to pause and take a deep breath before continuing. I began to move slightly up and down on him until he was buried deeply in my ass. The feeling was incredible. He was deeper inside me than possible with vaginal penetration. There was nothing inside to block his full length.

As I absorbed the feeling, I began to move in earnest. Pete was soon moving with me. The orgasm was as intense as any I'd ever had and when Pete came, the warmth of his ejaculate penetrated into my chest. I was a happy camper as I lay on his chest with his cock slowly sliding out of my ass.

Anal play became a regular part of my time with Pete. It was several months later when I was able to get Ed to do the same. Between them they gave me many vaginal, clitoral and anal organisms. Each one had its unique characteristics and I began to wonder how I could have them all at the same time. Adding a clitoral orgasm to a vaginal or anal one was fairly easy. Either I, or one of the men, had a free hand to stimulate my clitoris while inside me with their erections. But how, I wondered could I have all three simultaneously.

I thought of using toys but my experience with dildos and vibrators never reached the intensity of a live performance and I missed the joy of feeling the pulse of the cock and the warm residue it left behind. Obviously, I was going to have to get all three of us in the same bed at the same time.

The first step was to get us all in the same room together. One afternoon, while we rested in post-coital bliss, I invited Pete to dinner with Ed and me. He resisted at first, but when I reminded him that Ed was aware of our involvement, was cool with it and had, in some sense, even encouraged it, Pete finally agreed and we planned to have dinner on Friday after Ed returned. I rewarded him in grand style and went home to plan dinner.

Dinner on Friday was a success. Pete seemed a little uneasy at first but, by dessert, he was conversing with Ed and looked quite comfortable. I excused myself to clean up. When I finished, the men had moved to the den and were talking sports and watching some inane sports talk show on TV. I spent the rest of the evening in the living room, reading. I went to bed early and have no memory of Ed coming to bed.

I had to change the dynamics. I was encouraged that the men got along so well but I needed to be part of the conversation. I planned another dinner and Pete accepted again, offering that the previous dinner had been less tense than he originally feared. As part of planning the dinner, I read everything I could about the current state of various sports. Dinner was another success. The men talked easily during dinner and I made a point of inserting myself into the conversation whenever I could. When I started to clean up, the men, as I expected, moved to the den again. I skipped most of the cleanup and, instead of entertaining myself in the living room, joined the men in the den. I made sure to include myself in every topic and I think I actually impressed them with my knowledge of sports.