A Couple's Story

This will be a true account, as accurate as my recollection can make it be, of my first experience being shared with another man by my current husband, and of that event's effect on our relationship. There's something here for both men and women, and you are invited to share our memory of a singular erotic adventure with us here. About twelve years ago, Scott revealed to me that he would very much enjoy seeing me having sex with another man. In the course of a long weekend afternoon, I told him about several episodes which had occurred in the course of my brief first marriage during which I'd had sex with other men, and I confessed that I often still fantasized about some of those events while masturbating. My husband had no idea that I had such a desire also, and he admitted being somewhat shocked to learn that I felt that way. I reassured him that I could accept his interest in this type of voyeurism, without fully understanding it. I wouldn't rule out fantasizing about it during sex, I told him, and would even consider actually allowing it to really happen.

With the subject finally in the open, Scott began to introduce fantasies during our sexual activities describing various situations where I might find it pleasurable to copulate with other men. He would tell me that he'd enjoy watching it happen, but that he would also understand if it were too personal for me to share with him this way. We had a friend, a single man about my age, who we socialized with regularly at the time these changes in our fantasy life were taking place. He was a member of Scott's unit in the Army and often spent the weekends in our spare room off base. Scott began to personalize the fantasies by casting our friend in the role of my lover, instead of the purely imaginary characters or strangers he'd built the fantasies around until then. At first, it embarrassed me a little, but Scott pointed out that he was a good friend, who I enjoyed socializing with, and that by focusing on someone who was real, the fantasy would be more powerful. Scott also pointed out that he was someone I knew that I regarded as physically attractive, and that this didn't bother him in the least.

With that, I loosened up and began to enjoy the fantasies, with our friend regularly playing the role of my lover in them. This went on for a period of months, and I was getting more comfortable with the idea of being with another man, or, more precisely, of being with our friend. My first husband had forced me to fuck his friends or face being beaten. He would get me drunk or stoned and let them take advantage of me. Scott was merely allowing me to choose this lifestyle. I began to participate more in the fantasies, directing the course I'd take myself, rather than simply accepting the scenario Scott proposed. One afternoon, he brought the subject up again, from the point of view of, "I know that you've said you could do this, and when you're ready, please let me know." To his complete surprise, I wasn't at all hesitant about being able to do such a thing soon. I brought up a dozen reasons why it might be difficult, or unwise, to do it while he was still in the Army, but I was not opposed to the idea itself. Scott began to focus more on very prosaic and plausible scenarios during our fantasies, where I and our friend would find us alone together, and our sexual activities occurred almost as an afterthought.

I developed a growing interest in at least the remote possibility of such a thing happening, and began (for the first time) to talk about it away from the context of our sexual activities together. I was now occasionally talking about having intercourse with our friend in a hypothetical way that focused only on some of the details of the difficulties to be overcome before such a thing might happen. I wasn't yet willing to commit, specifically, to being willing to actually do it, but I no longer considered it to be something I wouldn't do either. At this time we had access to a private swimming pool where we had the opportunity to occasionally go 'skinny dipping'. Our friend knew about it, and Scott thought that he might be receptive to joining us there for a swim, so we invited him. After a number of planned rendezvous fell through, he finally joined us there one day. It seemed to take forever to break the ice that afternoon. Both my husband and our friend sat around, fully dressed, apparently embarrassed at the prospect of being the first to take their clothes off. I went ahead and disrobed and got in the pool.

After awhile, my husband came to the pool with his towel wrapped around him, leaving it on a chair as he quickly got into the pool. After another few minutes, our friend came into the pool area, and jumped in. I think that we were both surprised at the appearance of his penis. Frankly, it was larger than I'd expected it to be. He often wears fairly tight jeans, and it seemed odd to me that I'd never noticed a bulge, given the size of the penis I was seeing as he walked toward the pool. Now, in some of the stories that I've read in forums such as this one, the description of a gigantic organ would ensue at this point. The truth is not quite so dramatic. Our friend's penis, completely soft, was about five inches long, but quite thick. The head was fairly small and pointed, but it was bigger around than a silver dollar where the shaft met the tip and it tapered to an even thicker dimension at its base. It was noticeably darker in color than the surrounding skin, and that seemed to emphasize it even more.

Even soft, it had a pronounced tendency to an 'upward' curvature and it flopped limply from side to side as he walked quickly to the pool and jumped in. Scott could see out of the corner of his eye that I was staring at it the entire time he took to walk across the deck. Nothing happened that day, but I kept glancing very openly at our friend's penis more than once. I was clearly fascinated by what I saw, and made no effort to conceal my interest and curiosity. That night I told Scott that I'd been giving the things we'd talked and fantasized about some thought, and that I'd decided that I was willing to have sex with our friend, If he wanted me to, and that I didn't mind if he watched us do it. I thought that he'd already broached the subject with our friend. Scott told me that he had no idea that we fantasized about him, but that he would find a good way to tell him as soon as he could. I realize that most people with our intentions would have moved fairly quickly to invite our friend into their bed, but we didn't. To understand this you really have to know us. You've probably gathered from my writing style, I tend to be a very 'detail oriented' person.

One 'detail' about us that I haven't mentioned yet, we are generally pretty casual about nudity, the embarrassment of my husband that first time at the pool notwithstanding. His feeling of embarrassment that day had less to do with nudity than it had to do with the possibility of something sexual happening. This detail will be important to the story, so I mention it here. Most people aren't as casual about it as we are, and it may seem a little implausible that we would be nude or semi-nude around the house when our friend was present, but it's the simple truth. Those of you who are nudists will understand this, and those of you who aren't may not. Once I decided to make my sexual favors available to our friend it fell to Scott to recruit him. I made it very clear that I just couldn't get up the nerve to seduce him. I was concerned that he might reject me, which would have been embarrassing for everyone and would certainly have strained our friendship. Given our respective personalities, I felt that it might be difficult for Scott to bring the subject up with our friend.

They both were assigned to the same company at that time, so it was possible to talk with him informally during the day, but the workplace isn't the best setting to spring something like that on someone, so I knew that it would have to happen sometime when we were socializing on a weekend. Scott really agonized over the right way to bring the subject up. After the pool incident, Scott was getting some subtle signals in his conversations with our friend that his interest had been piqued. It seemed to me that we were having more conversations with sexual overtones, and I felt fairly confident that he wouldn't reject the opportunity to have intercourse with me. Scott couldn't bring himself to just blurt it out, however, and the project began to drag on a bit. In the meantime, I would occasionally and ever so casually (usually while doing something like folding the laundry and not looking at Scott as I did so) ask, "Oh, by the way, have you talked with X about getting together yet?"

Scott would have to report no progress, and I was beginning to wonder whether he'd developed 'cold feet'. Finally we had a frank conversation about it, and Scott admitted that he was having trouble bringing the subject up. Knowing that he often preferred the written word to spoken ones, I then suggested that he write X a letter to introduce the subject. Scott modified my idea somewhat, and turned the letter into something a little more like a combination questionnaire and proposal. We set a date when we'd all three be spending the day together and Scott told me that he'd give X the note on the way to a nearby larger city, where we each had shopping missions planned, so that he'd have some time to think about his answer during our day together. Scott failed to get the note into X's hands on the way there. He kept looking for an opening, and it just wasn't there. I was squirming in my seat for the entire trip, waiting for Scott to give X the letter, and he choked. When we got to our destination, we each did our shopping, with me frequently shooting the dreaded 'Look' at my husband as we did so, and he knew that the time had come to stand and deliver, or wish that he had.

On the return trip, there was much less conversation. We were all worn out from fighting the crowds and traffic and there were long periods of silence. Finally, Scott took the folded note from his shirt pocket and said, "X, there's something that we've both been wanting to talk with you about for quite awhile, but I haven't been able to find a way to say it, so I wrote it down for you to read here."

Our friend, who was in the back seat, had the oddest expression on his face as he leaned forward and took the note. I remember having a passing thought that he looked as though he was thinking that he was about to be 'downsized', and laid off as a friend of ours. He sat back in the seat and began to read the note, which ran a couple of pages. Hoping to discern how he might feel about our 'indecent proposal', Scott kept trying to catch glimpses of his facial expressions in the rear view mirror as I sat very still, with my hands in my lap, and stared straight ahead. There wasn't the slightest hint on his face of what must have been going on in his mind. It was a mask of careful attention, a perfect poker face. He read the note twice, folded it carefully and handed it back to my husband. He was obviously about to say something, so I kept my mouth shut to avoid spoiling the moment. Then he admitted that he'd fantasized about having sex with me quite a few times as he masturbated since the pool incident, and that, yes, he would be willing to give what we were suggesting a try, but that he'd like to take it slowly at first if we didn't mind.

I had been holding my breath and both men could hear me letting it out. Scott said that it would probably be best if he orchestrated the first encounter between them, so that neither would feel obligated to be responsible for making the 'first move', and that he would take it in steps, rather than plunging in. All then agreed, and we felt a tremendous sense of relief as well as anticipation. That night X dropped by, as was his habit, to watch a movie with us. We were nude when he got there, and didn't put anything on when he came in. He seemed a little tense, so Scott suggested that he just make himself comfortable, without feeling that he had to be completely nude, and he took off his shoes and socks, as well as his shirt, and got in bed with us where we watched the movie on the bedroom TV. After the movie, Scott told X that it was time for him to get out of his clothes, and that he'd be orchestrating the events that would happen as we'd agreed to do earlier. He got up, somewhat stiffly, and took his pants and briefs off, folding them neatly and laying them next to his shirt and socks on the hope chest at the foot of the bed.

He wasn't yet erect, but his penis was somewhat swollen, and it swayed from side to side, pointing downward (but with an upward curvature) at a 45 degree angle as he moved. He crawled back in bed with us, and I noticed him reaching for a Kleenex to wipe the tip of his penis, and within just a few seconds of him handling his penis to wipe it, I saw it becoming erect very quickly, until it pointed upward and was wedged tightly against his stomach. I remember Scott joking that he hadn't had an erection happen that quickly since he was 17 years old and everyone laughed. Scott told X that he was going to ejaculate that night, and that I was going to help him do it. I could see alternating expressions of relief and disappointment on his face. He'd said that he wanted to take things slowly, and that's how he was going to get it. Scott instructed me to take X's penis in my hand, and (after a second of nervous hesitation) I turned over onto my stomach and positioned myself up on my left elbow between his legs, with my face very near his crotch.

For just a moment, Scott thought I might be about to improvise, and take X in my mouth, but I didn't. I did examine it closely as I began to stroke it, milking quite a bit of fluid from its tip, and using it to lubricate the end of his penis as I cupped and gently massaged his almost hairless scrotum with my left hand. At one point, I briefly licked or kissed the underside of his penis, but this was the extent of my exploration in that regard. X was lying on his back, with his head and shoulders propped up on my pillows, and I had to gently pry his penis away from his stomach in order to fondle it. It was extremely rigid, and it seemed to have a strong tendency to 'snap' back into a position that pointed up tightly against his belly when I let it go to change my position slightly. For a moment, Scott was tempted to take a ruler and measure it, but that seemed a little too personal, and he didn't. I could see it clearly, however, and I would estimate its erect length at something longer than seven, probably near seven and a half inches, long.

The 'glans' of his circumcised penis remained rather small, in proportion to his penis, even when his penis was completely erect, and had a somewhat more sharply conical shape than is commonly seen, with a pointed tip at its end not much larger than the opening of the urethra itself. It was very pink in color, in contrast with the shaft itself, which was slightly darker. Scott got a tube of KY Jelly from the nightstand, and dropped a generous glob of it on my palm and watched as I turned my head toward him and began to masturbate X in earnest. I became completely oblivious to my husband, and was clearly enjoying myself as I did so. He didn't last long at all, and toward the end, I could tell that his ejaculation was imminent and laid his penis up close to his stomach, at which point I began to concentrate my efforts on its tip again. Within a few seconds he began to tremble and moan softly, then began clenching his buttocks repeatedly as he ejaculated three or four long, ropy strings of thick, bright white semen up onto his stomach, chest and neck as I continued to jack the head of his spurting penis as vigorously as I could.

The volume of his ejaculation was impressive, and it reminded me of the large amount of sperm that I would often ejaculate from my boyfriends when I was a teenager. I went to the bathroom to get him a wet washrag, and he cleaned himself off. The stiffness of his erection was gone, but his penis was still swollen to nearly its erect size, and he said that he could probably ejaculate again, and would like to if that was okay with us. I fondled his penis and scrotum for awhile until his erection returned. (although it seemed to be slightly less stiff than it had been the first time) Once he was erect, he took about five minutes the second time, and when he ejaculated, I was holding his penis pointing straight up, away from his stomach this time, and several large droplets of his semen spurted up into my hair. Although the volume of his second ejaculation was less than the first he'd had earlier, it was still more than Scott usually produced, even after abstaining for several days. After X left we had sex twice.

The first time, we fucked with great intensity right after he left and then once again more slowly about an hour later, right before we turned in for the night. And yes, I was very, very wet. We'd crossed a line in our marriage, but not quite all the way, and the feeling of being in a sort of sexual 'limbo' that we felt was enjoyable to both of us. Scott said something like, "Sooner or later, he'll do that (ejaculate) up into your vagina," and I laughed, with an odd expression on my face that made it clear to Scott that, yes, X probably would whether he wanted us to or not. I could tell that my husband could sense this, and said, in a very loving way, "Honey, I would have been happy to be with you only for the rest of my life, but I'm afraid that you've unleashed something in me. Do you understand?" He told me that he did and we went to sleep.

After I masturbated our friend that first time, we began a period of roughly four months during which he would visit us on Friday evenings, just as he'd been doing for some time, to watch a movie that one of us had rented earlier that evening. (all three of us would alternate being the one to choose the movie so that each of us had a chance to pick some of their favorite titles) What made this period of time different for all of us was that after the movie, I would make sure that our friend had experienced at least one ejaculation before he went home. For most of those four months, I used only my hands to masturbate our friend. Sometimes I would lie down beside him, sometimes I would kneel beside him and sometimes I would sit on his thighs as I masturbated him. I learned his rhythms, what he liked and didn't like, and became quite an expert at jacking him off. Sometimes I would jack him off with lubrication, and sometimes without. Sometimes I would try to finish him off quickly, and sometimes I would build him slowly to some really impressive, ball draining ejaculations. Sometimes he would ejaculate once, sometimes twice.

Usually I would aim his ejaculation up onto his chest, but I allowed it to land on my breasts a few times and once, to their immense amusement, I aimed his penis to the side at the last second and his semen squirted in several long, viscous strings out onto the sheet on Scott's side of the bed. After several weeks had passed, X asked me if he could masturbate me in return. (he knew that Scott had been making sure I had an orgasm after he went home) I was briefly a little hesitant when he asked me, but I told Scott later that I'd decided that he would have to get used to the sight of me having orgasms with X at some point, and I allowed X to masturbate me with his hand. The first time he attempted to masturbate me, his technique was terribly crude. In fact, it was completely ineffective. He began by using his middle finger, like a dildo, plunging it as rapidly as he could in and out of my vagina. I told him that for me, the action was mostly on the outside, and showed him how to massage my clitoris and the area in front of it, until I had my first orgasm with him.