First Threesome Ch. 02: The Decision

Over the next couple nights, we spent a lot of time in bed. We were both in a constant state of sexual arousal. When we weren't having sex, we were talking about the possible negatives of what we were considering. We didn't see it as cheating; but we were contemplating crossing a line, and once across, there was no going back.

One thing I kept telling Donna is that whatever we do is completely up to her. If we met Carrie, how far it would go-or wouldn't go-was totally and completely up to her. Of course I'd love a threesome with her and another woman. And what guy wouldn't want to watch his wife make love to another woman? But as excited as I was about the possibilities, I was not willing to risk our marriage to experience it. If she had even the slightest doubt, the matter was closed.

Friday night arrived. We were both quiet, off in our own thoughts, as we cooked and ate dinner. When we were done with the dishes, we still had a couple hours before we had to decide. I looked at her, and asked point blank: Do you want to do this?

She met my eyes, and said "I love screwing you, but you have to admit the idea of having sex with someone else is exciting. And I also have to admit that the possibility of sex with another woman excites me and scares me, pretty much in equal amounts. I don't know how I'd be watching the two of you together; the idea of you fucking someone else while I watch makes me jealous and wet at the same time. I'm not sure whether the jealousy or the arousal is stronger."

She stared at me for a few seconds, and said "Let me ask you something. If we do this, did you really mean it when you said I had total control of what does and does not happen? If you were on top of her and about to come, or she was blowing you and you were about to come, and I told you to stop, would you stop?"

I had to answer her honestly. "If I was pumping her and was within a stroke or two of reaching the point of no return and you told me to stop, or if she was blowing me or jerking me off and I was fast approaching orgasm, I'd probably come. I doubt there would be sufficient time for your words to consciously register in time for me to stop. But if there is time for your command to stop to become a conscious thought, I will stop. I promise you that."

More silence, then she asked "What if she and I were getting more physical, and I froze, or decided that was as far as I wanted to go? Would you encourage me to just give it a try? Would you tell me to just lay back and enjoy whatever was happening? Would you ask me to keep going just for your enjoyment?"

My answer was immediate and firm. "No. Under no circumstances would I ever pressure you into doing anything that you don't want to do. If you tell me it's time to leave, we leave. No questions, no argument. We thank her, and tell her that it's too much, and we leave."

After another minute or two of silence, she simply said "OK. Let's go meet her. Let's see what happens."

So we got showered and dressed, and headed out.

We got to the bar a little after 10pm, and found a table that was a bit secluded, but where we could still see the door. I got myself an iced tea (I wanted to be stone cold sober, just in case), and got Donna a glass of white wine. I could tell that she was both nervous and excited. Carrie walked in a few minutes later, and I waved to her. I stood up and offered her my seat across from my wife. I asked her what she wanted to drink, and went to the bar to get it.

I took my time getting to the bar and ordering her drink, giving them a few minutes alone just to say hi to each other. As nervous as Donna was, I was hoping Carrie was at least that much cool and calm. She was; by the time I got back to the table, she had Donna laughing.

I handed Carrie her drink, and I sat down next to Donna. We all talked for a while, introducing ourselves. We talked about our backgrounds, schooling, jobs and careers, getting to know each other a little. She was easy going, and had the brains and personality to go with that killer body.

She looked at us both and said "I'm really glad you guys decided to show up. As nervous as you both look, I'm guessing it's the first time you've done this. I'm glad you decided to at least consider the possibilities."

I looked at her and said "We'd like to say thanks for giving us a few days to talk about whether or not we wanted to meet. If you had asked us to meet you Tuesday night, the answer would have been no. It would have been too soon. But giving us a few days to talk it over, we appreciate that.

"And since you brought it up, we're both curious about why you asked us. We're glad you did; we've both felt pretty damned good about ourselves the past few days, and we've pretty much fucked our brains out since Tuesday thinking about this. But why us?"

She smiled, sat back, and answered.

"You're not the first couple I've asked to meet me. I'm obviously bi, and I really like being physically involved with couples. Best of both worlds. If you made me choose only one gender for sexual contact for the rest of my life, I'd sleep with women. I love going to bed with a guy who knows what he's doing; nothing quite like a good romp with a man who cares about my satisfaction as much as he cares about his own. But I really love the tenderness of making love to another woman. There's something I get emotionally that I just don't get sleeping with men. And to be honest, because of that emotional connection, in general women usually sexually satisfy me a little more than men do.

"When I see a woman I'm really attracted to-and Donna, I'm really attracted to you-I look closely at the guy she's with. If I'm attracted to him enough that I can see myself in bed with him, then I'll watch to see how they are together. Do they look like they're enjoying each other's company? Do they treat each other with respect? Do they have a solid relationship? Do they look like friends as well as lovers?

"And how do they interact with me? Do they engage me in conversation, maybe laugh if I say something funny? Do they greet me when I get to their table, and interact with me like I'm someone helping them enjoy their dining experience? Or do they just treat me like hired help?

"Every once in a while, with a couple like you two, it just feels right; I'll leave them a note asking them out like I did with you. More often than not, I end up having a drink by myself and going home. It doesn't bother me if they don't show up; not a lot of couples have the kind of relationship where they would or could even consider this. Those couples who do show up, often the chemistry just isn't there once we get to talking. Or the more intimate the conversation becomes, maybe they'll get pushy or overbearing, or be uber-graphic about what they want to do. Those are all turnoffs for me."

She reached across the table and touched Donna's hand, lightly stroking the backs of her fingers. She blushed, and I could feel the heat radiate from her thigh, which was up against mine.

"But occasionally I find myself in the situation like I'm in now with you two. I don't live that far from here, and I'd like to know if you want to come back to my place. Donna, you have my word I won't push you into doing anything you don't want to do. If you get uncomfortable at any point, you can stop. It won't bother me.

"I want you to really enjoy this, and the only way that happens is if you know with 100% certainty that you can stop it and walk away if you feel like you're in too deep. I'll take you as far as you'll let me take you, and not a step further."

When I looked down at the table, they had their fingers intertwined. And Donna wasn't trying to disengage herself from Carrie's hand. My wife was holding hands with another woman. And yeah, it was one hell of a turn on.

She looked at me, looked back at Carrie, and trying to show a lot more confidence than she felt, said "Yes. I want to do this."