My Goddesses: Cheronne's Memoir

Less than a week later, Maureen asked me if we could make love sometime. I think she meant she and I, but I said that the three of us would be very sweet. And she agreed immediately. It was a setup. And by the time Davi got home that afternoon, Mo and I were ready, ready, ready. Her cool soft lips, and hot smooth tongue. The way she kisses my clit: so loving, her entire attention focused on my little bundle of nerve endings there.

I think now that if just ONE of us had said later: "I felt a little weird about that", we probably wouldn't have done it again. I know I wasn't sure what I would feel if I watched my husband become aroused with another woman - even my Maureen. I didn't know. Well, in the actual event, it was a huge turn-on. I couldn't take my eyes off the purple head of his cock sliding up and down between her pink swollen labia; him licking her little clit; the glint of her juices on her soft pubic hair. She was in some other dimension: ready to come almost immediately, which was new. Both Davi and I had to slow us all down, or it would have been over for Mo almost immediately. At the end, just before she started to climax, I think she panicked a little, and tried to push him away, but he wasn't allowing that. For me, the supreme moment of eroticism came as he gently but firmly held her down, with one palm on her belly and the other holding her shoulder down to the bed, while he pushed into her as deeply as possible. He held her there; she was like impaled there for a moment, in an agonized fire, and then they both came.....hard; so hard. And she felt what I had felt with him.

David made a study of us. He wanted to break new ground; find new levels of arousal and orgasm. He could have sex for a long time; he said he was coming over and over, but he didn't usually lose his erection until after I had climaxed and couldn't take any more stimulation. We had a little "altar" of our two vibrators and various oils and jellies, incenses and little erotic picture books. I didn't really like the vibrators that much; they were actually an interference in my being joined to Davi. To use by myself, or together with Molly it was fun. Actually, David wasn't very good with the vibrator: he didn't really understand how potent a weapon it was, and he would sometimes use it to sort of force me to come. About the only thing to do with our lovemaking that he was clumsy with. About as often as I could come with him holding it to me, I would get to that place of being "stuck" at a pre-orgasmic level. Then I would gradually become frustrated, and go numb. After that, it would take me a long time to reset my nerve endings so I could become really aroused again.

When I held the vibrator on him, though, he would arch his back and come powerfully, almost immediately. No Tantra for him with the vibrator. He would just arch and come, shooting long streams of semen into the air. THAT was a turn-on to watch. He could make me come in just moments afterwards; I was that aroused from watching him come so hard.

We did talk a lot, though. And the talk was frank, loving, and really, really sexy.

We loved one another; the three of us. I don't think anyone would dispute that, although David's friend Barry was skeptical. Or said he was. I think he was jealous. For the longest time, it was the happiest existence of my life. We were totally devoted to one another; the tenderness in our relationship must have been obvious and palpable. We looked out for one another; not overprotective, but genuine caring. And besides the lovemaking, there was another more important element: our growing comfort in the intimacy of our talk, the way we shared the little pieces of daily life. It was like each moment we were together was one of those softened photographs: surrounded by a halo of golden light. Sometimes when we were out together in town, I felt almost high; giddy; people stared at us. Did they see that we were harboring a secret? A love which was so complete and deep; and the rest of the world didn't share it. A little childish.

We WERE like children, in some ways. But essentially innocent children.

I don't think I would have minded Molly and David making love had it not been for the fact that they kept it to themselves. And then I realized that they were private about it because it was much more meaningful than just sex. I felt excluded. And then threatened.

Water gone over the dam. Gone. In ten years, will I remember how lovely our lives were, and how painfully that beauty ended? Will I always feel this regret for having been the one to say "It's OVER!" As I talk to Maureen and David now, I discover that each of us feels a responsibility for what happened at the end. David is clean again; has a wonderful job. Maureen is teaching at Smith, in Massachusetts. What will I do there in Wyoming? Is there a women's trauma center? Someplace I can put my social work skills and education to work?

The house is packed. I'm not sure how I feel about Steve driving to Wyoming with me. I know he's going to plead with me one last time not to go. He has a formidable ability to argue. But his argument seems to be an illogical one: stay here so we can be an item - which we aren't anymore. I am done with the cocaine; done with the sex fueled by drugs and wine.

I'll put this aside for a while. I'm really tired and blue. I feel really alone.