Tart Ch 04

It was a nice weekend, but we were happy to get back to a regular, mundane routine of plain vanilla sex again for a few weeks. Tina called to tell me she bought a strap-on dildo and had used it a couple of times to peg Keith. He loved it. I knew he would, he was the type of man who needed a woman to take charge of him. I was glad I made her buy it.

A break from paradise or purgatory can’t last forever. A few weeks later, Margeaux reappeared one afternoon after work. We were sitting down to dinner and she breezed into our house, smiling and twirling.

“Care to join us?” John invited her.

She was acting stranger than normal, no mean feat for this girl.

“No, no,” she said sitting down and helping herself to some salad. “I can only stay a minute or two.”

“Why so?” I asked.

“Big news,” she announced. “I’m pregnant.” My eyes bulged and John was strangely quiet. He stopped eating mid-chew. “Brian’s the father,” she hastily added.

“How do you know? I asked, wanting to keep the conversation going, not have it end like time was frozen.

“I peed on a stick of course,” she laughed. “But that’s not what you meant, is it? Except for John, he’s the only guy I’ve been fucking and the timing is all wrong for John to be the daddy.”

“How does Brian feel about this?” John managed to choke out.

“He’s thrilled!” she blurted. “We’re going to be getting married soon, just a quickie ceremony, but you two will be invited. I just wanted the two of you to know.” She hopped up from the table, gave both of us quick pecks on the cheeks and was out the door, but not before she added, “I hear the second trimester of pregnancy is the horniest one, so I’ll be stopping by on a regular basis then!”

“Is she serious?” John asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, the hormones rage and women get real horny.”

“I don’t know if I could have sex with a pregnant woman,” he said.

I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sure you could. You’re a man, you’ll fuck just about anything.”

“I wonder if I’m the father,” he pondered out loud.

“What if you are?”

He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. If they do get married, whoever is the husband at the time of birth, is legally the father.”

“DNA,” I said. “Law might be one thing, but fact is another.”

We tried to go back to our dinner, but the phone rang. I answered it. “It’s Holly,” the voice came from the other end. “Would you be interested in having sex with Tom and me? Your husband can watch.”

“Uh,” was the best response I could manage.

“Actually,” she went on without any real pause, “you can participate, but I’ve finally convinced Tom we need to branch out a bit. I like women and all, but he needs to let me get what I want or we’ll never get married. And what I want is two men at the same time. I figured you and John would be open to that.”

It all came out in a blur, I think she was a little drunk.

To be honest, I was torn between the two basic options Holly was offering. On the one hand, I’d recently had more crazy sex in the past few months than I had in my entire life. That’s saying something, even if I’m not up to porn star standards of deviant and varied sex. What Holly wanted from me is to have John fuck her along with Tom while I got to watch.

I’m open minded. I like porn. Maybe I’ll like live porn. I’ve watched John fuck another woman already. I’ve fucked another woman. I liked both. Why was Holly asking me to offer up my husband so that she could get her jollies? What about my needs.

That got me to thinking. What are my needs, other than to please my husband and sit back and relax while I had as many orgasms as possible? After long and careful deliberation, I called Holly back and we arranged a date. Just the two of us, I needed to feel her out first.

Coffee. The great equalizer of social occasions. It promises nothing, it can go nowhere or it can lead to more without any consequences.

I should have expected something else. Holly was wearing a tight t-shirt, no bra, nipples poking through the material making tiny bumps, jeans highlighting her ass and legs. It was enough to make any teenage boy fulfill his fantasy about the sexy next door neighbor. Being neither a teenage boy nor a true blue lesbian, I was slightly disturbed to realize there was a steady moistening between my legs. I of course had dressed for the occasion in an oversized sweatshirt, matching gray sweatpants roomy enough for another of me and my oldest, grungiest sneakers. We were some bizarre pair of would be lovers.

“I know what you’re wondering,” she said to me. “How in the world did I convince Tom to let another man fuck me?”

Actually, it wasn’t what I was wondering, but okay, it’s an interesting way to open a conversation.

“It was easy. I thought a lot about what you said when we talked a while back. You know, when you wanted me to fuck John.”

How could I forget?

“Anyway, I realized that since Tom, I hadn’t had one other man besides him. Before we started getting serious I could have a different man every other week.” She paused and drifted off a moment. “Mmm. Those were the days. Half the fun was juggling one guy against the next. So I thought and thought about it, and realized that I needed another cock besides Tom’s. I mean, my vibrator is great and all, but variety is the spice of life and Tom was slowly, blandly making my life go away.”

On that I could agree. I loved John, but I still needed other cocks in my life. And in my pussy. I nodded eagerly. “It makes perfect sense. What woman wants to be stuck fucking the same man the rest of her life.”

Holly seemed a bit surprised by my answer. Then nodded and ran her hand down her arm. It was warm in her kitchen, but a chill had passed over her. I could see the raised goose pimples on her arm. Her lips parted and her breathing slowed. “Yeah. I started fantasizing that other men were fucking me when Tom and I were having sex. I hadn’t told him yet what I decided so it was kind of foolish for me to start calling out other men’s name when it was Tom’s cock in my pussy.”

‘That would be a bad thing.”

“Anyway, he got pissed I was calling out John’s name. We had a fight and I told him what I wanted. I get to have other men or he doesn’t get to have me at all. You can imagine my shock at his reaction.”

“What was that?”

“I must have hit the right tone because he nearly started crying when I threatened to kick him out.”

“Really?”

“He agreed to let me fuck whoever I wanted whenever I wanted. He practically begged to watch so he wouldn’t be left out.” She smiled. “That I agreed to. I can’t wait for you to bring over John so I can have the both of them at once.”

She leaned in suddenly and kissed me. I tasted coffee on the lips; my own was still untouched. “I also realized that I haven’t had sex with a woman when Tom wasn’t there. I want you to be my first.”

I didn’t kiss her back. I liked playing the passive femme. Holly moved on to my neck, burying her face in my blonde hair, then nibbling, then biting my neck.

“Ow!” I exclaimed, surprised at her aggression.

“Just a taste,” she said, then started sucking away. I love to be sucked. My breasts and nipples, my fingers, my neck. I knew she was giving me a hickey and I didn’t care. It felt good to have another woman’s lips on me when someone else wasn’t watching me. I could be intimate with someone else again and not be on display for all the world to enjoy as a toy. I pulled her away from my neck and kissed her hard, forcing my tongue into her mouth.

“Let’s make love,” I said to her. There was a surprised look on her face, maybe it was the ferocity of my response, but she was willing to go along.

We were pulling off each other clothes and kissing fiercely as she pulled me through her house to the bedroom. We were down to just panties by the time we collapsed on the unmade bed. It reeked slightly of sex from her and Tom the night before. She wore plain white panties cut high on the hip, exposing her muscular legs. Her breasts were beautiful and yielding, topped with light brown nipples that felt like pebbles beneath my fingertips.

She kissed her way down to my tits, sucked and briefly toyed with them, then spun herself around presenting her panty-clad crotch to my face. I smelled her wetness and kissed the elastic waistband. We were both lying on our sides and I knew we were about to perform a classic lesbian 69 on each other. Holly’s fingers slipped inside my own modest panties and skimmed them over my hips and down my legs. I eagerly opened my thighs to her inquisitive little tongue. She kissed me over my well-trimmed pubic triangle and then happily worked her way down to my glistening lips. It was everything I dreamed of when she kissed my cunt.

“I can’t do this solo,” she said to me between licks. It took me a moment to realize that a true 69 involves simultaneous involvement of both parties. I wasn’t as shy with her now as I was all those months ago when she first propositioned me. I hooked my thumbs into her panty waistband and pulled down. I was eager to see how Holly maintained her pubic curls. I got the shot of my life.

I’ve seen bald pussies before. I’ve even shaved my own once at the request of John, but the itching when it grew back was too much to bear. I’ve stayed at a classic triangle ever since. Holly had soft, pale skin offset by her black hair. She had scalped herself except for the thinnest line of hair crawling up her tummy from her clit. That wasn’t the surprising part. That was the silver ring piercing her clit hood. When her secret was revealed to me, I even stopped pulling down her white panties. I was shocked, confused and aroused.

“Does it hurt?” I asked, immediately thinking it was a stupid question.

Holly stopped licking my now unresponsive pussy to answer. “Of course not. I mean, it did a little when I got it done, I spent the weekend with a bag of ice on my cunt, but now, ohhh,” she moaned, “it makes sex so much better.”

“Why?”

“That little ring keeps my clit stimulated all day and when Tom’s tongue finds it at night, I’m ready to explode again and again. I never had multiple orgasms until he made me get pieced. I thank him for it every night.”

Sometimes I think I’m the only woman in the world who can have multiple orgasms without artificial aids.

I reached out and touched the warm metal. Holly wiggle her hips a little as I did. “Don’t stop now,” she whispered and put her face back into my pussy.

The metal slid easily through her flesh and she shivered each time I moved it. Emboldened, I pushed her underwear all the way off and starting a serious round of cunnilingus of my first pierced cunt. It was odd that my lips and tongue kept finding the metal, but I soon began to enjoy both the unique flavor of her cunt and Holly’s uniquely talented tongue in my own.

She drenched my face with her juices three times before we were finished. After my own last orgasm had faded away we wrapped our arms around each other and fell asleep in the bed.

When our nap was over, we made promises to each other to bring our respective mates together for a group session of sex. I went home thinking about the possibility of getting my own poor overworked pussy adorned with a metal decoration.

I didn’t get a piercing, of course, I’m just not that adventurous a girl. After telling John about Holly’s little secret and our big plans, he was torn between taking me down to Lark Street for an erotic piercing and running over to their place that night. The plan was for the weekend, of course, and he knew that it took more than just a few days for a pierced pussy to heal.

When we did go over to Tom and Holly’s, dinner was little more than pretense. She was already fired up and had thrown back many glasses of wine before we had finished eating. Deciding we should already be done, she stood up and announced it was time to start fucking. She reached behind her neck, untied her halter top dress, and dropped it to the floor. Underneath she wore only a tiny black g-string.

There was little else to say after that. She turned and went to the bedroom. The boys eagerly followed her bouncing ass. I wandered behind, wondering what kind of action I would get.

When I finally got into the bedroom, John had already pulled off her g-string and had pushed her down on the bed. His face was buried in her pussy where he was enjoying the same tasty cunt I had already sampled days before. Tom had pulled off his pants and his cock was in Holly’s mouth. We had already agreed that Holly would get the boys first, and I would be relegated to leftovers. That was fine by me. I curled myself into the corner chair, pulled up my skirt and pulled down my lacy underwear. My fingers tickled across my moist lips.

Watching the three of them was almost like watching a ballet of intricate movement. Lips, tongues, cocks, cunt, asses, nipples, arms, legs, elbows, fingers, wrists; there were almost too many body parts to keep track of. Eventually the men shed all of their clothing and John wound up on his back with Holly straddling him. She eased her pussy down on his cock and sighed in contentment, her arms pressed against her breasts, fingers cradling her face in ecstasy.

Tom moved behind her and pushed her forward, down against John’s chest. He slapped a generous handful of lubricant against her ass and exposed pussy. At first I thought it was for the couples enjoyment, but then, as Tom carefully placed his legs among the already tangled grouping of limbs, his intent became clear.

“Is this what you really want?” he asked Holly, his cock head against the tightness of her anus.

She only nodded, looking over her shoulder at him.

With firm delicacy he easy himself into her asshole. I gasped with amazement as the trio moved together, grunting and groaning. John was the first to go, filling Holly’s pussy with his seed. This seemed to charge up Tom who emptied the content of his big cock into her poor ass. I wasn’t sure when Holly’s orgasm started or ended, if it was multiple or just extremely protracted, but her cries and gasps gave proof that it was all for her benefit.

When they were done and had rested, they turned to me and asked what I wanted. Laughing, delirious at what I had just witnessed, I foolishly said, “I want all three of you at the same time since Holly had both boys together.”

It was probably a combination of the wine and sexual high because I don’t know why I would have said something like that. I’m not against anal sex; I just never considered it something I wanted. I’ve had my ass played with on more than one occasion, and the rare finger up there can be quite nice in conjunction with other stimulation. But I’ve never had anal sex as a main feature before.

I was quickly pulled from my chair, stripped naked and thrown on the bed. There was no real plan, but I found myself presented with Holly’s denuded and ornamented cunt, so I dove in. Lube was slathered across my cunt and ass. I was twisted on my side and Tom’s big cock found it’s way into my box. I was thoroughly enjoying myself until I realized that John had nowhere to go but my ass. I could have used my hand on him, sure, but that didn’t really seem fair. I found myself looking over my shoulder, much like Holly had, as John pressed his cock against my asshole. I could have said no. I didn’t. He pressed in and filled me up.

Having two cocks in you, one in the cunt, one in the ass, can only be described as the afterwards of a Thanksgiving dinner. You’re completely full, you can’t move, you’re satisfied but you still foolishly want more. The more arrived when Tom and John had their orgasms and finished me off.

That’s how I lost the virginity of my ass.

The next day, in bed with John, nursing my sore ass and cunt, he confronted me with a question that was perfectly logical. It’s just that most men don’t question a steady supply of kinky sex.

“Why are you going out of your way to get me all these new women?”

I’d been waiting for this question for a while, so I had practiced my answer. “Guilt, because I’ve been fucking different men for such a long time. And I wanted you to be happy.” I paused, unable to voice the real answer. I swallowed my fear and opened my mouth. “Because I don’t want you to leave me for fucking other men. I’m so happy to be married to you, I couldn’t stand it if things changed.”

“If we weren’t married,” he asked me, “would that change anything?”

“I don’t know,” I managed to stutter. “Why?”

“Maybe without a ring, maybe knowing you’re not my wife, might make you more secure.”

“What? That makes no sense.”

“You like fucking around, but feel guilty about it. I like your fucking around; I like knowing other men desire you. If we weren’t married, you couldn’t leave me. No matter who you fucked or what you did, you couldn’t leave me.”

I was truly puzzled. “Do you want to get divorced?” I asked him.

He smiled at me. “You wouldn’t divorce me,” he said with a kiss. “You wouldn’t be able to find a better, more understanding husband. You can fuck whoever you want. You’ll be my tart. You’ll be my wife. The illicit sex is better than having serial boyfriends. Getting sex outside of marriage, it‘s more exciting. The thrill wouldn’t be there if we weren‘t married.”

It was strangely true. Being married made sex outside those vows better. The sex within the bonds was fantastic too, but combined, John was right, I’d never leave him. It would make life dull if I did.