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The first time I met Martha was in the fall of 1975, or thereabout.
Her husband, George, and I were college classmates, sharing classes together and working on the college poetry magazine. He was a skinny, beak-nosed fellow with rather lifeless brown eyes, intense, with the typically undergraduate assurance that we were intellectually superior to everyone else around us.
He studied French, frequently citing those French poets of whom I still know very little, while I limited my self to Keats and Shelley and a smattering of modern Spanish poets in translation. He studied French, I think, because he felt it to be more avant-garde, while I studied Spanish because I needed two years of a language to graduate and I figured it was the easiest way out.
Apart from shared classes and work on the magazine, George and I frequented the bars occasionally with a few other college friends. Whenever he had a little bit too much to drink, which was frequently, he always turned the conversation to sex, liberated sex, sex with no boundaries. I figured it was the influence of his French poetry coming out. From time to time I saw him and Martha at a party. She and I always chatted a bit, but I never really gave her much thought. She was attractive in a skinny sort of way, tall and lanky, with shoulder-length brown hair that reminded me a bit of Faye Dunaway in Chinatown. But she was his wife, and I was definitely more interested in someone unattached.
One day while working on assorted editorial chores, George asked me if I’d like to come by their house that evening for a few drinks. I had no plans, so I readily agreed. I was twenty-four at the time and recently divorced. I figured sharing a few drinks with a married couple was better than drinking alone in some bar, where I’d probably find little of interest and would wind up home alone anyway. At any rate, I’d be able to have some good conversation, and it seemed a good way to expand my relatively limited circle of friends.
I got to their small house around 9:30, and after taking a quick tour, we sat down on the couch to listen to some music. I’d brought a bottle of tequila, so Martha excused herself to fix drinks. Making idle chat with George, I took a discrete look at her as she left. Her tight jeans showed off a nicely rounded ass, something I didn’t expect to see on a skinny gal. When she returned, I enjoyed her tight red sweater which clearly showed her nipples. She was wearing no bra–nothing remarkable for the seventies
She sat between George and me. It was a small couch so we were sitting there thigh to thigh. As I’d had a few drinks before arriving, I was enjoying the feel of her leg next to mine. It had been over a month since I was last with a woman, and I figured I would enjoy whatever small pleasure was available.
We went through several rounds of drinks, listening to the music, smoking cigarettes, chatting idly. Clearly George was beginning to feel the effects of the José Cuervo and began talking about “sex, liberated sex, sex with no boundaries.” Martha gave me a twinkling grin and rolled her eyes as if to say, “Here he goes again.” I figured with that there would be no more drinks and that she’d probably start trying to bring the evening to a close.
To my surprise, she got up, gave me a wink, and headed to the kitchen for another round. George leaned over, put his hand on my thigh, and said in a low voice that if I was up for it, Martha might like to fool around with me a little. Despite the drinks I’d had, I was a bit taken aback. However, always being open to whatever, I said that if he was okay with it we could see what happened when she returned. He grinned, squeezed my thigh in a friendly manner, and moved back over to his seat on the couch.
I heard a toilet flush and within a few moments Martha returned, drinks in hand. While putting them down, she and George exchanged glances, then she sat down between us once again and turned to me with a knowing smile.
She leaned into me and gave me a brief peck and a strong hug. I looked over at George and, when he nodded me a go-ahead, Martha and I entered a passionate embrace. Even though I felt strange with the situation, my emotions were intense. I began fondling her breasts and slowly moved my hand under her sweater. She reacted immediately to this and placed her hand between my thighs, gently squeezing my balls and exploring my hard on with her thumb and forefinger.
George moved back against his seat to give us a bit more room, and I noticed he was lightly massaging his own erection. But I was so caught up in the sensations we were experiencing that I could care less what he did.
I raised her sweater, flicking her small nipples in circular motions with my tongue. She reacted by tugging my belt free, undoing the top button of my jeans and unzipping my pants. In those days I never wore underwear, so she easily freed my dick, stroking me slowly, gently, spreading the precum over the head. I caressed her mound through her jeans and, moaning, she spread her thighs wider to give me better access. She then reached down and undid her pants so that I could touch her directly. We were absolutely carried away, mindless of anything else.
At this point I felt a tugging at my jeans and I raised my hips to make it easier to pull them down. As my seven and half inches sprang to full attention, I pulled Martha into an even harder embrace, relishing every moment of our lovemaking. It was then I realized that it was George, not Martha, who had pulled down my pants and he was the one who was now stroking me.
The intensity of my feelings was incredible, but it grew ever stronger when he kissed the tip of my dick and then engulfed me entirely in his wet, warm mouth. Nuzzling my pubes, he then slowly backed off, bathing me in his saliva and licking the underside from balls to crown.
Meanwhile, I was finger-fucking Martha and massaging her clit with my thumb. Her body began to tense up, clearly on the verge of an orgasm. George was working me over like a pro, taking me completely in his mouth and then slowly letting me out, swirling his tongue over the head of my dick, lapping along the underside of the shaft, teasing my balls, and then engulfing me completely once again. I was in a new world and had no desire to ever leave it, sucking on Martha’s breasts, masturbating her, and getting the blowjob of a lifetime.
Martha was responding strongly to my attention and began to buck and moan in a shattering orgasm. I then joined her, filling George’s mouth with one hell of a load. He held me in his mouth until I began to soften.
We both relaxed in a post-orgasmic glow, hugging one another fiercely, while I watched George swallow, wiping a few stray globs of cum from his cheek and lick them off his fingers. Never had I experienced sex so satisfying.
2.
Martha pulled her sweater down and got up, grabbing her drink.
“Be back in a minute,” she said. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Feeling a little self-conscious, I put my dick back in my pants, lit a cigarette, and took my drink. George was leaning back against the opposite end of the couch with a satisfied look on his face. He, too, had lit a cigarette and was nursing his drink.
“Wow, I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything; that was great,” he replied.
Apparently he hadn’t come yet because he was still sporting a noticeable bulge in his trousers. I didn’t know what to do or say, so I just sat there enjoying my drink and smoke, hoping that Martha would soon return. Somehow her presence made things feel more comfortable for me.
I didn’t have to wait long. She came back wearing a dark silk Japanese-style robe loosely tied at the waist, carrying her glass and the half-empty bottle of tequila with her. She sat back down between us and lit a cigarette. I snuffed mine out.
“So did you like that?” she asked, refilling my glass and George’s.
“How could I not?” I replied. “It’s not often I get an experience like that.”
She gave me a brief kiss and said, “Good, you rest up a bit and have another drink. Then it’s my turn.” She laughed.
“George, what are you going to do with that thing?” obviously noticing his straining trousers..
“Nothing yet. I’ll get my turn later.” He put out his cigarette and resumed his position on the couch.
Martha returned her attention to me, tickling the hairs above my dick. George just sat there with sort of a silly grin. I could see her breast peeking from her robe. Her hand moved inside my jeans and she began squeezing and stroking me. I started to feel the life slowly returning. When I reached about three-quarters of my length, Martha stood up and took me by the hand.
“Let’s go,” she said. I got up, we grabbed our drinks, and I followed her into the small bedroom with George right behind me.
Once there, she started unbuttoning my shirt. “We don’t need all these clothes, do we.” She removed my shirt, kissing my nipples, while I dropped my jeans to the floor and kicked them away. George was getting naked as well. She slid her robe off and got on the bed, leading me by the hand. It didn’t take much leading. I slid in beside her and began kissing her and fondling her breasts. George moved in on the other side and joined me. We each took a breast in our mouth and our hands joined in the middle to part the moist lips of her cunt. She moaned and began widening her legs.
While she and I continued kissing, George moved down and licked her pussy, adding his saliva to her juices. At the same time he reached over and started slowly stroking my balls and alternately moving his hand up and down the shaft. Martha’s cunt was fully open from George’s insistent tonguing and from her moans it was evident that she was ready for her “turn.”. All at once he got up on his knees, and maintaining a firm grip on my cock, he pulled me toward her waiting snatch. I needed no further coaxing nor instructions and, pulling his hand off me, I gently entered Martha’s well-lubricated hole.
Despite her arousal, she was surprisingly tight. I pushed completely into her and held her quietly in a strong embrace, enjoying the new sensations. She responded with a quick series of contractions, clenching and releasing my dick. That was it for me. I began to move in and out of her, increasing the force and speed of my attentions with every thrust. She locked her legs around my back to pull me even more deeply inside, and we began to ride in earnest. She was incredible and her apparent orgasms gave me a great sense of power and well-being. I wanted to please her for as long as I could, but her lovemaking had me on the verge of orgasm in a couple of minutes.
“God!” I moaned as the semen erupted. With four or five strong spurts, I lay still, feeling completely drained. She clenched me tightly as she continued to enjoy the afterglow of what clearly was an incredible session for her as well. “Whoa! That was something,” she whispered, and let me go.
George had clearly enjoyed watching us because he seemed erect to the point of bursting, the head of his cock shiny with his precum. However, he still hadn’t come. During the whole session, he had been smoking and drinking, and his eyes now had a sort of dead glaze about them. He moved toward Martha as I sat up, moved to the edge of the bed, rummaged through my shirt for my cigarettes and enjoyed a great after-sex smoke. She lay quietly, eyes closed, with her arms over her face.
No one spoke a word. It was if we were all in our own private world relishing the whole experience. A bit lost in my thoughts, I slowly smoked and took a sip of my drink, taking in the beautiful site of Martha in repose. Her cunt was wide open, her pubic hair was matted, and a small trickle of come was starting to make its way down to the crack of her ass.
George dabbed his fingers in her cunt and then brought them to his mouth, savoring the taste and texture of my recent deposit. As I was putting out my cigarette, he moved between Martha’s legs and, putting them over his shoulders, took his place and fucked her roughly. He lasted only about five strokes before filling her with his load as well. He then pulled out rather quickly, I thought, and placed his mouth over her cunt. He began greedily lapping at our combined juices and gently massaging the top of her mound, forcing everything inside to flow steadily into his mouth. From the sounds he was making it was clear that this was the treat that he had been patiently waiting for.
Martha never removed her arms from her face. She simply lay back, let George bring her to another orgasm, and moaned. After sucking all he could from her pussy, he sat up. His mouth was shiny from the come he had been eating and there were ropy strings between his lips. Wiping his mouth, he licked his hand clean and sighed, “Hmmm, I could do that all night.” He gave me a wink.
He then left and I turned to cuddle a bit with Martha. She embraced me, we kissed a bit, and I started to play with her sopping wet cunt. She apparently liked the soft, slow strokes. When I started to lightly trace my fingers over her asshole, she pushed my hand away and saying, “No, that’s not for me. If you want that you’ll have to ask George.” I stopped, kissed her again and gave her a strong hug.
3.
I got up, put on my shirt without buttoning it and pulled up my jeans, heading for the living room with drink in hand. I was feeling sort of hazy from the drink and the confused mix of emotions that I felt about what had just happened. I fumbled around a bit and refilled my drink.
What happened next I don’t recall exactly—the drink was taking its toll. However, when I was a bit more conscious I realized that I was lying on the living room floor and staring at George’s erect cock. I still had on my unbuttoned shirt, but I was naked from the waist down, hard as a rock, and a naked George was lazily giving me a blowjob. I leaned forward and licked his cock head for awhile, savoring the taste and texture of his precum. From his reaction, he liked what I was doing, so I began to take more and more of him into my mouth.
As I continued to pleasure him, letting him slide in and out, licking the length of his shaft from time to time, and then taking him nearly completely toward the back of my throat, I realized that Martha was standing at the bedroom door with her robe open. She was stroking her clit and smiling as she watched us. I caught her eye and I think she gave me a wink. I’m not sure. I was way into the effects of the drink and job at hand and didn’t really focus too well. Whatever, it didn’t stop me from enjoying the feel of that wet, spongy hard prick deep in my mouth.
George became more active, tickling my balls as he sucked me and occasionally tracing his fingers over my asshole. The combined sensation was so incredible that I shot another load almost immediately. He swallowed it all, not losing a drop. Probably after so much recent activity I didn’t have much to swallow. At any rate, I let him out of my mouth to lie back and relish the sensations of yet another orgasm.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was that George was sitting on the couch in his underwear, and Martha was sitting beside him, her robe now closed. They were both smoking a cigarette and nursing their drinks. Despite our intimacy and the alcoholic haze, I felt self-conscious lying there face up naked in front of them. I raised up and looked for my pants. They were a few feet away from me, so I got up and put them on. I felt as if I were on exhibition, a fine prize for their evening, bit I didn’t care.
After zipping up, I found my cigarettes and stumbled over to the couch, sitting beside Martha. I leaned forward, my head in my hands, slowly smoking. Martha leaned over a gave me a seemingly innocent peck on the cheek.
“You were great tonight,” she said. “We’ve really enjoyed your company.”
“What can I say, guys? It was great for me too.”
She offered me a coffee, but I declined and in a few minutes headed for the door. George looked up at me and said, “Thanks, man. Let’s do it again some time.”
“Any time, George. Thanks.”
With that I left and headed for my car.