She Did Not Stop

She Did Not Stop ch 04

By MrMsScrewloose

Friend gets a reprieve, out of the doghouse.

(Still 90% fiction, suggested by real, fun events in our past.)

HE

After the previous incident, in which Terry went overboard with his feelings of ownership of my wife, specifically ownership of her sex organs, he was declared persona non grata in our house. She and I didn't discuss it at length or often; it just ceased to be a topic of interest. He didn't show up weekends. He was not invited for weekends. I knew that she was still pissed at him and did not want him to be around.

And I really missed him. He and I talked on the phone occasionally, but that was it. No visits. We lived far enough apart that we couldn't easily "have a drink after work" or anything like that.

Talking late night, she said, "I know you miss him. I do, too. Maybe it's been long enough, months. Maybe we can have him back. Start slowly."

"Okay he can come and stay."

"But no sex. So don't you even get frisky with me around him. Don't give him any ideas."

He would come for the weekend and he would apologize to her and he would not fuck her. That was the plan.

That night she admitted to me that she still found him very, very attractive. And he still made her crazy hot. She didn't want to get involved again, certainly not like last time. Well, maybe involved, but not *owned* the way he used to think of her. Would I be okay if she let him have her again? If she wants him to have her, that's her choice and I support her choices. It's obvious that she enjoyed the hell out of being fucked by him many times. I shouldn't stand in the way. That doesn't mean I wasn't nervous about the prospect. "Um, gulp, you really want to?"

"Sort of. My brain is wary. But my libido is interested. Just thinking about what we used to do is making me... hot. Wet." She pulled my hand to her crotch, I felt her lips were hot and damp. She pushed my hand hard into her pussy, and pushed my finger with hers into her slippery opening. She moaned as her hips came up to push into both our hands. "I want you right now. But I think I want him, too."

"Tomorrow?"

"Soon, anyway. Let's see how tomorrow works out. Maybe the situation won't even come up. As it were." Nudge nudge.

"Right, play it by ear. We'll all try not to get too interested."

Try? I took the hint and we connected that night, thinking about what might happen tomorrow.

SHE

After those several months, and a lot of discussion, we decided. Okay he can come for the weekend. We both missed him. Will there be sexual activity if he stays the night? Probably not. Maybe. Yeah, maybe. As we said, we'll have to play it by ear. I was still upset about how he acted that night months ago. He was so damned possessive, he thought he owned me and he could just pass me around like a toy. Bullshit!

But... but will I still feel that way when I see him, in the flesh as it were? If he hugs me, even just as a greeting... or if he kisses me? I don't think I would stop him. I love him, or at least I love the fun we used to have, how he used to make me feel. If he presses his body against mine, or worse, if I press my body to his, my breasts on his hard chest, how will I feel then? Will I want to bump pelvises like the old days? I can feel my hormones rising and my juices flowing right now just thinking about how much fun we had. Geez, I should stop speculating about this.

My dear husband is okay with whatever choices I make. Or at least he says he is. He certainly still gets excited when we talk about how things were, how I wanted his friend as my crazy hot lover back then, how it started with a kiss, then a feel, then a little cooperation from Tommy. Then a lot of cooperation, when I asked him to help me, basically to give my body to his friend to play with. And then step by step it went, all the way, and we had a real fuckfest that lasted all night.

Cripes, I have to stop thinking about this. Yes, my husband and I are both okay with whatever happens. But now I have to cool down, turn down the heat with an orgasm or two, and get on with the day.

HE

Tomorrow arrived with good weather, hot and sunny, so we went out to play tennis. It was always awkward with three. The single person played the singles court, the pair played the doubles court, giving more room for the single to aim at. But we were too similar, skillwise, so the single person always got creamed.

After a break for pit stops, we started up. First set, I was the single. Terry was distracted, so I was able to get a few more points but still not win.

Next round he played the single. And I found out why he was distracted when teamed with her. She was not wearing her usual large, opaque white tennis pants, but had substituted a pair of very thin, very tight, very sheer, pale blue bikini panties. Oh, wow. No wonder he missed serves and shots from the backcourt when she was up at net. Whenever she leaned forward, the skirt came up and her ass hung right out. The panties didn't hide anything; I could easily see her slit and lips. And the wide stance required for balance on the court displayed her interesting bits even more. Even I was distracted, and I have been familiar with her goodies for many years. She was mooning and flashing her partner for sure, and anyone standing behind her, or, frankly, anyone walking by the court at the right time. Yummy. And provocative. Wait a minute: provocative? I thought she said she didn't want to do anything to attract sexual attention this weekend. Had she changed her mind? I know she misses him, misses his burning lust for her, her hot, wet responses to his touch.

At home after tennis I took him aside for a minute to tell him what she and I had discussed that week, that she probably wants to get started with him again, but maybe slowly. He could touch her, starting lightly to see how she reacts, just friendly non-sexual to start, then if she accepts it, try a little feel here and there. She's been a little less passionate lately, and I wonder if she's missing the extra zing that she gets from him. As far as I'm concerned, it's open season on her. Feel, grab, anything you want, whatever *she* wants, but only what *she* wants. I gave her my okay. And here I am giving you the same. What a dumb shit I must be to give my beautiful wife to another man, but there it is, that's what she wants. Fuck her on the living room floor with the shades open, or on the patio with her leaning on the rail with her ass and pussy sticking out to him. Whatever she wants to do, if it pleases her and doesn't hurt anyone, is okay with me.

Apparently she had similar ideas, at least teasing-wise. Back at the apartment, we all needed a shower. She went first in the master bath, and he went to the guest bath. Terry finished quickly and came back out in a T-shirt and shorts. When she came out of the bathroom, she was wrapped in a towel, just a towel, and not even a very large towel. Her hair was in that turban that women do with a small towel, but her torso was just wrapped in a normal bath towel. She came over to me and leaned over to pick up her drink. I'm sure that Terry, sitting behind her, got an eye-popping view of her ass and sex lips that the towel did not cover.

How much has she changed her mind? Is she trying to get him to attack her? Again? I wonder how seriously he is taking her flirting. Flirting? Flashing your pussy at an ex-lover is a lot more than idle flirting. Will he make a move on her? Again? Like the last time when this all started? Wait and see.

SHE

Boy, I guess I was brazen! Yes, when Terry showed up, I was shocked at myself, at the intensity of my reaction. The old juices started flowing and I really wanted to start something up again. Flashing my pussy at him might seem a little aggressive, but that's what I wanted to be. Ever since he walked in, and we touched, I felt the old urges that made me jump him the first time. And ever since.

I could just excuse it as familiarity. I mean, both men had seen me naked many times, and we were all as intimate as could be, so bending over with the short towel, showing off my goodies like that, well, it wasn't all that forward.

It was fun on the tennis court, dancing around in pretty panties, not those old, heavy, hot tennis pants. I've always hated them. The only real advantage is the pockets to hold balls for a second serve. Nice cotton panties were lightweight and cool by comparison, felt really free. I think I moved faster on the court with them. Too bad they don't let women wear something lighter in summer tournaments. Yes, I guess it was really forward of me to wear panties that were so nearly transparent. Anyone watching us play would have got quite a show. I do wonder now what the couple on the next court thought, though I admit it didn't occur to me then to be a little more modest.

HE

I went into the shower. All the while in there, I wondered if Terry was maybe approaching her sexually again. Thinking about it made me hard for the entire shower.

When I came out, they were both in the kitchen, she making salad and he making drinks. She had on a lightweight and light color sundress that buttoned down the front. Short, above the knee but not mini. No second layer under it, and thin material, so I could see her underwear. With the light behind her from the big windows, her shape was clearly outlined. Her areolas and nipples were even visible through the bra and the dress, and we could all see the outline of her tiny panties. Seemed innocent enough, though, given that the audience included only men that were intimate with her. We weren't seeing anything new. Didn't stop us from staring a lot, at least speaking for myself. I stared and drooled. I'm sure that Terry did his share of staring and drooling, too. But no touching that I saw.

She and I went out to the patio to start the charcoal grill (remember those?). While waiting to be sure the fire was taking, I held her and we kissed. I even felt up her breasts. She squirmed a little in protest, but we were facing away from the neighbors. I moved one hand down to her skirt to cup her pussy -- more squirming -- so I reached down to undo two buttons at the bottom of the skirt. Well, then three buttons, hey, why not? Didn't really show anything, but a slit skirt would show a more interesting thigh flash when she sat down.

I looked into the kitchen to see if Terry was watching. He was back in the living room but definitely facing our way. So, was I adding fuel to the fire, suggesting how to touch her hotspots?

She went back in. I stayed out to tend the grill fire. She was in a corner of the kitchen that I couldn't see directly. But I could see occasional snatches of movement through the shades which were not completely closed. He was there with her. Close to her. Maybe they were holding each other. I made some noise at the door before going back in, so they had a chance to part and straighten up.

Eventually, I grilled burgers, she made salad, and he made more margaritas, and we sat down to eat.

While he was in the bathroom later, I asked if he had approached her. Yes, he had, and she hadn't resisted at all. In the kitchen, he kissed her. She didn't pull away. He felt her breasts. She didn't object to that, either. He felt her hips, her ass. She put up no resistance below the waist. He reached down her front to cup her crotch through her thin dress and her thin panties, just as I had done. But she didn't fight it, instead she relaxed her legs so he could feel her pussy. That was getting seriously like a real seduction. Seemed like old times. If I hadn't come in about then, would he have continued? Would she have let him continue to make love to her? I asked her if she thought that would continue, or even ought to continue. She looked down and shrugged. Dunno. Would it be a problem for me? No, not more now than the many times before. Her body, her choice. So long as it is just pussy and not heart.

SHE

Yes, Terry took the bait. Sex is always the best bait. When he kissed me, I flashed back to our first night, when my husband saw us in the kitchen, watched us kissing, watched Terry feel me up. He didn't stop us. Said it was my choice. I didn't stop, either, I didn't want to stop. Terry and I continued. He continued to play with me. He got his fingers into me, oh, god, how I loved him fucking me with his fingers, and I came. And I wanted to go further. I couldn't believe it, how crazy was I, I asked my husband, love of my life, to take my panties off. To remove the last obstacle keeping this other man out of my pussy... my vagina... my hot cunt. I was drooling at the time, my cunt dripping. I couldn't believe it myself at the time, I asked my husband to uncover my sex so I could take a new lover. And he did, he took off my panties, pulled them down, uncovered me, he un-protected my pussy, gave me to a new lover.

I can't imagine what was going through his mind when he gave my pussy to his friend. I asked him to give me away, I wanted to do it, and he let me, no, he helped me do it. And I loved it, god, we fucked the whole night away, what a wonderful experience. Just the first of many fuckfests the three of us have had.

Sooooo, tonight it's starting again. Same reason, pure lust, nothing more complicated than that.

HE

Now I remembered. I thought back to months ago when this affair started. I first found them together in the kitchen, he was kissing her, passionately, not little friendly pecks but full-on mouth and tongue kisses that lovers do. And he continued, fondling her breasts, then her ass. Then he went up under her skirt to her panties.

When they noticed that I had come in, they stopped briefly but did not move away from each other. His hand was still on her belly, fingers starting to reach into her panties, almost in her crotch, almost inside her lips. She asked me if they should stop.

Did I know where this was going, where he would run his hands over and into her? I don't recall what I said, I was so turned on from watching my best friend fondle my wife's body sexually. Whatever it was that I answered, I can't remember clearly, it was a green light for her and for him. She spread and he reached, and soon he was delving her insides and she was screaming loving it.

And she didn't stop there. She asked me, her husband, to remove her panties so that her new groper/lover could get into her love tunnel more easily. Jesus, what was I thinking when I stripped that last barrier from my loving wife's pussy so that another man, my friend of many years, could play with my wife's sex and drill inside her and make her scream in passion. And then, just minutes later, she wanted him to fuck her and she let him come inside her. And that night she and he and I continued an actual orgy until almost dawn, coupling in wild passion again and again and again.

What kind of idiot was I to let my best friend fuck my wife, my woman, the love of my life? And not just once, but repeatedly, many times over the next months. And these sessions were not always in private, but sometimes they, my friend and my wife, played at sex in public, even in places where people knew my wife and me as a couple. What must those acquaintances have thought as they watched some strange guy's hand go up my wife's skirt while her husband was sitting at the same table?

When I saw how much pleasure she got from his lips, his hands, and his cock, how thrilled she was from her first penetration to her first orgasm and through the rest of the night, I understood that I had made the right decision, to let her make her own right decision to give in to her unbridled lust, raging desire, flaming passion. It was clear, to me and to her and to him, that we would not dismiss this as a one-night stand. That continued many similar weekend orgies later.

SHE

It started sort of like the first time. A kiss in the kitchen, a hand on the boob. Not just grabbing it, but cupping it, weighing it, tenderly squeezing its soft firmness. Pinching the nipple that is wired directly to my hot box.

My dress was a lot more alluring this time than the first time: thin, damned near transparent, and I admit I chose my bra and panties to match. Yes, I wanted both my men to drool over my hot bod. What you see is what you get.

When Terry reached between us to feel me, I spread my legs so he could feel my pussy. And so my pussy could feel his touch. I was hot, I'm sure I was wet, too. Could they see that my panties were wet? Would it spot the dress when I sat? If he continued to try to seduce me, he would succeed. And if my husband didn't object, he would "get into my pants" and we would have another party tonight.

HE

After dinner, my friend decided to take a more direct approach with my wife. He caught her in the living room, hugged her hard, kissed. They melted together, like old times. His hand came up to her breast. His other hand held her waist, then slid down to her ass, pulled her hips into his. Oh boy, it's starting. They continued holding and kissing and feeling passionately for several minutes. They felt each other all over, his hand on her breast then in her crotch, still over the skirt but she opened her legs wide to accommodate his hand, over clothing at least for the moment, pushing her crotch hard into his hand... her hand in his crotch, too, grabbing at his hardness.

I was standing over in the archway, only a dozen feet away, watching this intently. They looked over at me once, twice, separately, to see if I approved or disapproved. When her eyes met mine, questioningly, I nodded my assent. It's not as though this hadn't happened before. And it's not that my opinion mattered a helluva lot, either. She, they, would probably just carry on as they had in the past, hot to trot right in front of me.

She came over to me. "Honey, I think this is going to happen. I want it, I want to have a fling tonight. I really miss it, I miss him, is that okay with you? I really want him to have me tonight. Can he have me tonight? Will you give me to him tonight?" She pressed her body into mine, whispered into my ear. "Again. Like before. Give your wife to your friend? Please, honey, okay? I really want him to come into me."

She held me tight. I couldn't deny her a pleasure that she desired so fervently. I remembered the sessions with my best friend making love to my wife, seeing their glorious, passionate sex! I enjoyed it almost as much as she did, watching and feeling her heat, her passion, her throbbing, screaming, fuck-me fill-me orgasms. "Please, honey, can he have me? I'm so hot! Feel me, Feel how wet I am. I need my lover's cock -- now." I reached down to her crotch. Yes, I could feel her heat and her damp through the fabrics. She looked up, straight into my eyes. "Please... my dear husband, my love... give me this. You know I love you forever... but I really want your friend to fuck your wife tonight."

She took my hand, walked over to Terry, stood just a foot from him, and asked me, aloud so he could hear, "Will you undress me honey? Take off my clothes for me, please. Show me to my lover." I nodded again. She wanted me to undress her, expose her body to her lover. Especially, to expose her sex to him. For him to play with and plunder.

"Please take off my dress." I stood behind her, reached around and unbuttoned the dress down to her waist. Her bra, what there was of it, was bright against her skin. I cupped both her breasts, kneaded them, found and rubbed her nipples until they were erect, hard. Terry was intent, frozen, watching from only a foot away. "And the bra. Please!" I left her breasts, reached behind her to unhook her bra, took her arms out of the straps, slipped it off and dropped it on the floor. Terry was drooling at the sight of her breasts only inches away, topped with hard headlight nipples, but he waited his turn.