by: JESSIE B.©
Well, I finally did it. I put my key in the fishbowl. After that night we had with Elise and Ted, I spent nearly two weeks agonizing between ‘would I?’, ‘could I?’, ‘should I?’ and ‘dare I?’. I’d start the day telling myself that the whole idea is absurd and childish but by noon I’d start thinking of all the handsome and friendly members of the group and what fun it is at the parties where everyone is fully aware that everyone else’s thoughts are with yours - several inches south of the navel, and inhibitions and jealousies have been checked at the door. While party protocols discourage vulgarity or undue familiarity during the evening, all present have conceded, just by their attendance, availability for consideration as potential partners in enjoyment of the delights of physical intimacies. The mood is sexual but not vulgar, conversation may be flirtatious but never aggressive.
I’ve made no secret of the fact that both Malcolm and Jack have had some delightful moments with me in my bed and now Elise has discretely but proudly proclaimed to all that she has shared a honeymoment with the latest recruit, my husband - and all but declared him a grade-A lay. Yet I felt I could not truly belong without openly affirming willingness to dance with any fellow member of the group Yes, I decided I must so declare myself. My key would go in the bowl at the very next party.
Sunday evening I told Ted of my decision then took him to bed and screwed him mercilessly.
The next day I called Laura and Jeannie to inform them of my decision and they both rushed over to chat it up. They both declared they would join me in the lottery and Laura insisted that we all mark our envelopes identically and forbid our husbands to take any one of them - it would be a anticlimactic to wind up with someone I’d already screwed. Jeannie volunteered to inform Elise and tell her to warn off her husband too but Laura reminded us that Elise was off-line that weekend so would not be at the party and that took care of that.
All these plans; - I was beginning to feel like the pagan virgin being prepared for sacrifice to the local gods - and isn’t that presumptuous for a married woman with three active lovers?
Friday night, when Laura, Jeannie and I arrived at the Tomlinson’s, who were hosting, the word was apparently out. All the other guests were already assembled and we were greeted with applause. They cheered as we prepared our envelopes and dropped them into the bowl with resounding klinks. Sally Anderson laughingly announced that her husband had threatened to beat her if she didn’t put her key in.
The butterflies that had inhabited my tummy all afternoon settled down as the party got under way. During the evening every man of the group managed to spend some time with me and all tried to wheedle me into telling the secret mark on my envelope. I felt terribly flattered
At midnight, Jeff Tomlinson brought the fishbowl to the center of the room and presented it to my Ted to make the first pick. He withdrew a handful of envelopes and picked through them for one he didn’t recognize. His discards went back into the bowl, each one making a distinctive kling. “Sounds like we have hundred percent participation tonight.” Our host commented.
Malcolm and Jack drew next and the six of us left for home, leaving five eager men to scramble for Laura, Jeannie and little old me. We also left behind five charming ladies, one of whom would, this night, be wrapping her legs around my Ted. I nearly creamed my panties at the thought of his beautiful tool sliding up between firm thighs other than mine.
Ted kissed me goodnight at my own front door then turned and left. For a moment I felt some misgivings. The house seemed unnaturally quiet and somehow larger than usual. Ted will not be back before morning and some unnamed man has the key to the house. I cautiously made my way upstairs and seated myself at my dressing table. “You got yourself into this my girl.” I chided myself. “No backing out now.” I laughed nervously and began removing my clothes. Naked, I reseated myself before my mirror to apply a good charge of KY to my trembling pussy. A sprits of Jasmine to the inside of my thigh and my courage began to return. A moment of indecision before choosing the white teddy and I slipped into my familiar bed with restored confidence and a mounting sense of adventure.
The sound of a key fumbling in the lock, the soft opening and closing of the front door and muffled footsteps on the stairs paused my breathing. I turned my back to the soft light spilling from the dressing room into the bedroom. “I will not turn to look until he touches me.” I told myself as through slitted eyes I watched on the wall the distorted shadows of a man disrobing. He knelt beside the bed and leaned over to place a kiss on my shoulder. I sighed and paused a moment before turning toward him but he outmaneuvered me at my own game, sliding his cheek down between my breasts until his lips were on my navel. I tangled my fingers in his long hair - good, it wasn’t Ed White; he has very short hair:- not that I would reject Ed, just I was hoping for one of the younger members for my first venture into random selection. I pushed the head of my visitor farther down and he obliged by searching with his tongue for that most intimate little bundle of nerves. I gasped as he found it and reached over his shoulder to pull him to a position in which I could reciprocate the favor - but he resisted.
“No.” He protested. “You’re so special and I’m so excited - I’d lose it if you even touched me there.”
“Then let me have it.” I pleaded. “I don’t need any more warming up. I’ve been building up to this moment all week.” Perversely, I closed my eyes and forbade myself to open them until my new lover was inside me but the faint aroma of English Leather gave him away as I turned toward him. I had talked to Rafe Seymour quite often at previous parties and he had always struck me as being rather shy but there was nothing shy about the delightful liberties he took with my body for the next ten minutes or so. Gingerly, he drew himself over me and I spread my thighs to accept him. Gently he separated the lips of my coozy and slowly inserted the tip of his eager rod. About two inches slipped easily in then he paused. I could feel him willing himself to relax - calm down. About ten seconds and he exhaled - aaahh - and gave me the rest. “I’ll be OK now.” He breathed into my ear. “That first few seconds are always critical for me.” He pushed harder to get even more of himself into me and I hooked my ankles behind him, raised my hips and pushed back. Damn I love that initial invasion with my puss stretched to the limit and my insides jammed full of raw male cock. I wish it could last forever but men are so impetuous. My lover sensed my mood and gave me a full ten seconds to savor the moment.
In spite of my assumed cavalier attitude toward this first foray into purely hedonistic sex, I was still too wound up to even approach climax so when he finally paused and I could feel him swell and commence to quiver inside me, I pulled him against my breast and gave a series of pussy hugs. “Yes, come to me, lover, come, come. come.” And he came, came, came.
He collapsed onto me and we rolled sideways, still connected. Unlike my other men, he did not completely deflate but remained a semi-rigid presence inside me as we dozed. It felt so comfortable that when, some time later, I felt him begin to swell and again fill me completely, I was ready. It took but a few gentle strokes to bring me to the edge and then a magnificent spasm surged up from the inside of my thighs - up through my pelvis and belly to my heaving breasts and echoed back down to point of union with my lover. I begged him to come to me and he obliged by again filling me so full of male essence that I overflowed and we had to move to the dry side of the bed..
I awoke at first light. Rafe was sleeping so I went down to the kitchen and whipped up a bowl of pancake batter. Rafe came down as I was putting some on the griddle. He was wearing Ted’s dressing gown and I felt a childish twinge of resentment. This response struck me as so ludicrous that I started to giggle. He asked me what was so funny so I told him. “Eat a man’s food, screw his wife but don’t wear his clothes.”
He laughed and removed the dressing gown to reveal a glorious erection. The next minute we were screwing on the living room sofa while the pancakes burned to a crisp.
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I'd appreciate your comments Jessie