Having sent my message to Duncan that night, I deleted it and closed down the PC. I slid into bed next to Jane feeling almost guilty. Almost.
OK, it was me that had set this thing in motion - I guess I had pretty much engineered the entire situation so far. But no one was being coerced here and that was vital. The fact is, to have someone I loved do anything against their will, just to please me... well that's something I hope I'm not even capable of. And from here on, whatever happened next - if anything – well, that was going to be entirely up to her.
Jane was asleep on her side, still on top of the covers, legs splayed with one knee drawn up and an arm resting across her hip. I stared at her for a long time – her breasts heaving deeply as she breathed, her full lips now stripped of lipstick and slightly parted, her hair knotted and still sticky with cum. She liked to fall asleep like that – and to wake up smelling of sex.
You see, Jane was never what you'd call demure. Never had been. She was a well educated, upper middle class girl with manners and accent to match – outwardly respectable, conservative even. But when I'd met her 25 years ago she'd been a hot, curvy little art student with killer tits, green hair and a newly discovered, voracious appetite for sex, drugs and rock'n'roll – an appetite I helped her indulge to the full during three years of college.
She used to love getting noisy as we fucked in an ever-changing series of student houses and bedsits, with drunken neighbours cheering us on through thin walls. It was her that dared me to buy a vibrator one afternoon when we'd gone into a sex shop 'for a laugh'. And it was her – in the throes of an early-hours, popper-stoked session of extreme lust – who first dragged my cock from her pussy and to my utter amazement forced it straight into her arse. That was three new experiences for me in our first year. Believe me, she was always a horny, knowing, sweet, sticky, willingly creative and dirty little thing. It was great.
Amazingly, given our mutual interests, we've been faithful to each other all this time, which is maybe why we've enjoyed various spoken fantasies for many years now. Chief among these is one that's grown into a clear favourite – the one that starts with numerous scenarios that all lead to the same place – where Jane, me and another guy - or couple - all end up fucking each other's brains out.
Quite apart from any of that, she'd always had a strong interest in double-penetration, ever since we'd watched a threesome porn film together as students. Since that night she has used one of our growing collection of toys to re-enact that particular train of randy thought on numerous occasions. Once she has two cocks in her she'll come within minutes – and come hard and loud.
Then, more recently – just a couple of years ago – we decided to take a dirty weekend in Norfolk. We stayed in a seedy, indifferent little hotel near the sea-front and on the first night we were still fucking at three in the morning when we heard a key turn in the lock.
Jane was on top of me, back to the room and shot a look into the wardrobe mirror just as the door opened. We both froze as a decent-looking middle-aged guy walked in, switched on the light and stopped, suitcase in hand and mouth open in total disbelief.
No one spoke for what seemed like ages, then he began stammering an apology as he backed away into the corridor, still staring at Jane's arse poised on the upstroke, the tip of my cock barely in her.
I stared at him, then her as she responded with a broad grin, looking right at him in the mirror before sliding herself down on me. Later I jokingly asked her what she'd have said if I'd asked him to stay and she told me she'd been thinking about that too. She never really answered one way or another...
But here we were now and I'd finally got us to the point where she could choose to live out her fantasy (and mine) or not. Our next session online would most likely give us the answer to that.
Saturday evening came round so slowly it seemed, but by nine we were alone in the house. Neither of us had mentioned sex all day and I was beginning to think my suspicions were wrong – maybe Jane had already written off the idea. Maybe she felt it was too risky, or perhaps that she was just too old to go through with anything so radical. Then, as we washed up after dinner, she casually brought it up;
"So... you been on that website lately?"
"Yeah – had a quick look yesterday."
"I was just wondering if people are still looking at our pics..."
"Umm... didn't actually check. We should check it out later maybe, yeah? Only I have to go out for an hour – Tom rang asking to borrow my spare hard drive and I said I'd drop it round. But you go ahead if you like – here, I'll jot down the password..."
Ten minutes later I was in the pub and Jane was home alone with access to Duncan. This would be my final act of interference – the rest was down to fate. And Jane.
