Loading...It was her day. The trip to Boston without our kids was my idea, and after checking into a luxury hotel and putting a nice bottle of wine in the refrigerator, I spent the entire first day in the city with Kara, my wife, letting her shop to her heart’s content. This delighted her to no end, as our little town doesn’t have the shops and selection of a major city. She loved the attention I paid to her and the time I allowed for her to shop with no pressure to hurry it along. In short, she was in a great mood by the time the afternoon concluded.
Tired and hot on this summer day, we decided to duck into one of the local pubs for the cool, dark air and pints of ale. The place we picked was a few steps below street level. Quiet enough, nice atmosphere, but surprisingly, every table seemed was taken. “Look! The booth in the back is empty,” Kara said. We swiftly walked back to claim it and almost sat down before we saw that a young man was sitting with his back to the door, hidden by the high back of the bench. He was quietly sipping a beer and seemed just as startled to see us.
“Oh, we’re sorry!” I explained. “We didn’t see you.”
“Not a problem,” he answered. “Are all the tables taken?”
“Yes, but don’t worry. We’ll sit up at the bar.”
“No, you don’t want to do that! Not nearly as cozy. You’re welcome to sit here if you want. I’ll be leaving soon.”
“Don’t leave on our account! But we will join you, if you don’t mind.”
The stranger motioned to the bench across the table. Kara put her packages on the bench beside him and she and I slid on the side facing our new friend. His eyes gave her a quick once over, subtle but deliberate. She was quite a pleasant sight—dressed for warm weather with a bohemian halter top with golden fabric draping down to her waist, and blue jeans that she was proud to wear because they actually fit. She had taken to wearing her brown hair a bit longer than had been her habit in recent years and the halter playfully showed off her still firm breasts without being too revealing. She wore emerald earrings and matching necklace that picked up on her hazel green eyes. She looked more exotic than I recalled in recent memory.
As an observer of the observer, I also saw him briefly glance at the shopping bag. It included the usual names—Macy’s, Ann Taylor, Chico’s—and a package from French Dressing, a small lingerie boutique on Beacon Hill. A glimmer of a smile betrayed the fact he’d noticed that parcel.
I judged he was a little younger than us, with less of the middle aged settling that I felt was so apparent on my body and perhaps less so on Kara’s. He had short dark brown hair and, appropriately enough, a five o’clock shadow. His hands were folded around the base of his glass and looked strong and sinewy. He wore an open collared cotton shirt with a trace of dark hair above where the second button closed it.
I offered my hand across the table. “I’m Jeff and this is Kara.”
“Glad to meet you.” He shook mine, then hers. “I’m Ken.”
“Thanks for letting us sit here. Must be rush hour for pubs!”
“Yeah. The commuters’ last chance for a drink before heading out to Medford,” he said, as if he might be glad to see them clear out.
“So you live in the city?” I offered. He nodded. “Well, then, you might be able to give us some good information on little know sights!”
Ken leaned forward with a slight smile. “I’d be glad to.”
Our drinks came, then a second round, and we talked for some time—maybe thirty minutes. Kara was having fun making friends with this attractive stranger and I was happy to see her in such a great mood. Ken made a silly joke about typical Boston tourists, playfully mocking them while noting how easy they were to spot. Kara laughed and brushed her hand against his knee, involuntarily retrieving it as if she was surprised by a spark.
“Where’s the rest room in this place?” I asked.
“I’ll show you. I need to visit it myself.” Ken answered, and then added to Kara, “If you’ll be alright by yourself.”
“I’ll be fine,” she breezily replied. “Imagine. It’s the guys who are going to the bathroom together instead of the girls!”
“Ha, ha!” I answered.
Once we were standing at neighboring urinals in the men’s room, Ken volunteered, “Kara’s really a lovely lady!”
“Not bad for fifty, eh?”
He looked amazed. “Fifty? No way! I’d have said she was forty, max!”
“How old are you, Ken?”
“Thirty-nine. Seriously, my guess would have put her younger than me.”
“Well, she’s been a little self-conscious of the effects of gravity and a little added weight, but I think she’s holding up fine.”
“I hope you’re not offended, but I can normally tell a woman in her fifties by how her breasts sag. I don’t notice that at all with Kara.”
“So you noticed!”
“Gosh, man. I don’t mean anything by that! Just that she’s in great shape!”
“I was just teasing. I’m complimented that you noticed her. And from what I could tell, she was too!”
Ken waited a moment while putting himself back in his pants.
“Listen, this is going to be forward as hell, so just say the word and I’ll disappear. But I just want to say that if you ever wanted to share her, I’d be…”
“Honored?” I laughed.
“Sorry, Jeff. I’m not…”
“Ken. I’m complimented. I have to confess that, well…”
“What?”
“Well, it’s a long standing fantasy of mine, and you’re certainly the kind of guy I’d imagined it with.”
“What would Kara say?”
“That I can’t answer. I saw how attracted she thinks you are. Tell you one thing, though.”
“What?”
“She’s got to think it’s her idea.”
Ken looked at me quizzically, but I said, “We’d better get back or someone else is going to beat us to her. Let me ask her something after we get back.”
He nodded and we made our way back to the rear table. The place was noticeably more crowded and I felt a little panicky at having left Kara alone. She was getting some looks, which she deftly deflected, but I felt like she was glad to see two familiar faces emerge. I was struck that one of our faces would have been unfamiliar an hour earlier.
We settled back into the booth and I announced, “This place is getting too loud to get much more conversation in, plus the bar bill’s going to break the vacation budget. Why don’t the three of us go back to our room and open a bottle of wine?”
Ken immediately understood what I’d meant earlier and Kara amazed me by quickly agreeing. I think she was threatened by being one of the few women among so many men, but being the only woman with two men didn’t seem to faze her.
We settled our tabs and left.
The hotel was across Boston Commons, on Avenue de Lafayette, and Ken and I walked with Kara in between us. He smiled warmly at her and she contentedly looked at him and then me, saying she much preferred our company to the “vultures” in the pub.
“They’re just jealous of us,” I said.
She beamed. Either she didn’t pick up the sexual innuendo of my statement or it didn’t bother her. I carried her bags with one hand and offered her my other arm. Ken did the same and she walked arm in arm in arm with us back to the hotel.
Our suite offered superb city views with a living area separated by French doors leading to a king-size bed with ultra-plush pillows, piled atop a pillow-top mattress. The sun was just getting low in the sky above Cambridge. We left the shopping bags in the bedroom and settled in the living area.
“Make yourself at home.” I motioned to Ken, while fetching the bottle of wine out of the fridge. I uncorked the bottle and poured three glasses of pinot gris, offering one to Kara, then Ken. Ken had wisely claimed the love seat, and Kara sat beside as naturally as if he’d been a sibling.
“To new adventures!” I toasted, catching Ken’s eye as he glanced at my wife.
We sipped our wine and let Ken fill us in on the “must-do’s” for a vacation in Boston. After giving us more than enough to fill our three days in his city, Kara said, “I think we’ve taxed Ken enough for one night. Maybe we should see if he has anything to ask us.”
I was startled at this opportunity. Ken was not about to miss it.
“I’d love to see your new outfits,” he announced.
Kara excitedly retrieved the packages and showed him a new sundress, two pretty blouses, a wrap around skirt…
“No, I think he wants you to model for us, honey,” I interrupted.
“Oh!”
She had had just enough alcohol that she gave us a “what the hell” look and retreated into the bedroom with her outfits, closing the French doors behind her. She came out with each new item, did a little runway twirl, and sashayed back into the bedroom to change into the next. We applauded lightly. She was having fun showing off to her private audience. I could tell she really liked Ken. I could only imagine how far the two of them would have gotten at this point if I wasn’t around.
After the last new garment had been shown, she came back barefoot wearing the halter top and jeans.
“Wasn’t there one more package in your shopping bag?” Ken asked.
For the first time, Kara blushed, but then raised her chin and smiled.
“Yes, as a matter of fact…” and went back once more into her changing room.
Ken and I smiled broadly at each other.
Kara came back wearing a short black negligee with a matching bikini bottom. It was not a revealing garment any more so that a swimsuit, but the fact that she was wearing it with two men who were obviously taking it off with their eyes was almost overwhelming for me. I realized that I too was seeing this outfit for the first time and, like Ken, was growing hotter by the moment.
“Another glass of wine?” I emptied the bottle in the three glasses and Kara reclaimed her place on the love seat next to Ken.
She looked at me mischievously.
“Honey, don’t forget. I bought you something, too.”
I’d forgotten! While we were in Macy’s, she had me buy a two-pack of white silk boxers. She claimed it would feel wonderful underneath my wool blend suits in this kind of weather.
“Do you want a little show, too?” I teased.
She nodded with a grin.
“Come here, Ken. There are two of them.”
He was close enough to my size I knew the boxers would fit fine. He feigned reluctance, but joined me in the “changing room”. I handed him his pair and we began stripping out of our street clothes. He glanced at me, without talking, because Kara was within earshot, but clearly conveying that he couldn’t believe how well this was working out.
We both laughed when we saw each other’s excitement before slipping into the boxers. He was not huge, but had a nice looking cock with a more prominent head than mine. His chest showed evidence of a commitment to working out. Mine showed more of a refusal to give up good food and beverage, though I dare say I wasn’t in bad shape. Ah, youth!
We stepped into the living room. Kara had turned on some light jazz and motioned for us to twirl and let her take in the “beefcake”. She smiled approvingly and we sat with her.
“Well, now you know what it’s like to be fully clothed and yet not really hiding anything,” she teased.
“You were right about this material. It feels quite wonderful!” I said.
“Really? Let me touch it.” She reached over to my chair and stroked the fabric against my upper leg. When she did, her black silk covered ass faced Ken directly. His boxers twitched noticeably, but only I saw it.
“Now why did you reach all the way across here? Ken is right beside you.”
“Of course you’re right, honey. I just didn’t want you to feel lonely over there.”
She settled back down and Ken tucked himself between his legs so that his boxers wouldn’t look like a pup tent. She reached over and touched the fabric on his leg.
“Would you like to touch my silk, too?” she cooed.
He reached over and stroked her negligee on the top part of her breast, letting his hand linger for a moment while he looked into her eyes. She broke his gaze for a moment, looked back at me, and back at him, taking his hand in hers and moving it lower to her nipple. He advanced gradually closer.
“I told your husband earlier, but I think I should tell you. You are an absolutely beautiful woman!”
With that, the space between them evaporated and they kissed, softly at first, then moaning and harder.
“I think I should tell my husband that I’ve wanted you since the pub.”
Ken looked at me. “I am going to make love to your wife.”
I nodded and smiled, “Yes, you are!”
I watched them as she ran her hands up and down his sculpted chest and belly and along his elastic waistband. He cupped her breasts, then untied the front of the negligee, allowing him to press skin upon skin.
As they continued kissing, Kara wrapped her outer leg over his and they embraced seductively. Her negligee was nearly off now and her hand returned to his waistband and began pulling it down. With his help, she managed to free his cock. She stopped kissing for a moment to take in the new sight. To my knowledge, she had not touched another man’s cock in twenty-five years of marriage. She felt him and he moaned as if the touch would make him cum.
She positioned herself in front of him, knees on the floor, and continued pulling his shorts until they were off. With a hand on each of his knees and looking straight into his eyes, she parted his legs and moved toward his crotch. Her breasts touched the insides of his thighs as she gently held his cock in her hands and began to kiss, fondle, lick, suck. His head cast back and he looked blankly at the ceiling as she carefully manipulated him with mouth and hands. Simply put, he was in heaven.
In a few more seconds of bliss, he went over the edge, but not a drop of his passion left its stain on the love seat. She kept him in her mouth until he went soft and then she stood, as if lording over a subdued captive, and moved away from his spent manhood. He weakly motioned to her, but didn’t rise from his spot.
Kara, my wife, then strode four feet over to where I was sitting, similarly costumed in white silk boxers. She shed the negligee and tossed it over my head. I smelled the passion strong in the fabric. Standing topless for an instant, she then lowered herself to come face to face with me. She removed the garment and pressed her lovely lips to mine, opening her mouth as if to say, “This is the part of me that just gave another man so much pleasure. This is where he spilled his seed.” She frenched me and I met her tongue with mine. The slight stickiness, the hint of saltiness, gave even more rise to my own cock. I didn’t remember her ever being so completely a sexual creature.
After a few moments, she lowered herself to my legs and parted them as she had Ken’s. Similar performance, similar finale! Ken watched, so enthralled that his softness began to give way to another erection.
“Now, it’s my turn,” she softly stated, but in a way that made no mistake about her conviction to dictate the next move.
She picked up her negligee and draped it over her shoulder with one finger. The sight of her standing with one leg forward, breasts freely displayed, and black bikini still intact was enough to begin my recovery. She swished around and walked slowly into the bedroom with cool self assurance that we would be close behind.
Ken and I looked like spear carriers in a budget production of Aida. Kara turned and sat regally on the edge of the bed and we approached at theatric angles from her right and left. With her head tilted slightly downward, then shifting nose upward as if she was ready to assume her role of queen for the evening, she held us at a distance with her eyes. When she beckoned, again wordlessly, we walked forward. This was not with a sense of choreography, but completely spontaneous, as we were all players in a naturally unfolding drama.
She lightly cupped Ken’s balls in her left hand and mine in her right and ever so gently pulled us to the center, until the heads of our cocks were touching. We each had a slight spasm at the sensation. She smiled delightedly. Moving from scrotum to shaft with each hand (who knew she was so ambidextrous?)
Controlling each of us firmly, now, she made circular motions of one head against the other. I found the sensation electric and I could tell Ken did, too. She leaned forward and placed her lips at the place where the two heads met and opened, exposing her wet tongue once more. She had us hypnotized. She then moved from left to right, Ken from head to base, back to me, head to base. She pointed us toward her and took one, then the other in her mouth, as if she was trying to choose which one she enjoyed most.
Then, in one fluid motion, she spun around and positioned herself horizontally on the bed, with her feet toward the pillows and her head slightly hanging over the edge at the foot. She slipped out of the bikini, showing her natural bush for the first time. All of us were now naked. With an outstretched arm, she beckoned me to come forward. The pillow-top bed was raised enough that my cock was just above the level of her face. She licked my balls playfully, then, as if she’d forgotten him, said to Ken, “I have somewhere else I’d like you to be.”
He didn’t have to be told twice to go to the head of the bed. Looking like a swashbuckler with his blade unsheathed, he stood on his knees and looked down on his prize. Kara left her focus on my rod for a moment to part her moist labia. It opened like a secret passage for Ali Baba, and he rubbed those lower lips with his large knob until she moaned again. Slowly, he let the head sink into the slit, all the while moving it north and south along the opening. Lower and lower it sunk into her until he let go with his hand and began rhythmically pumping from his well-muscled hips. Soon he was buried in her tight hole and both of their faces held looks of ecstasy.
As they settled into a unity of motion, Kara again turned her attention to me. She took me in her mouth and sucked as Ken fucked her harder and harder. She nearly lost control, gained a little composure back again, and then completely lost it as Ken thrust deeply into her pussy, pumping it full of his semen. His throbs were echoed by deep gasps that escaped from her throat. I resigned my sexual position and moved down to kiss her—her lips, her throat, her erect nipple, her goose-bump covered arms.
Within minutes, we were reduced to a heap of perspiring, heavy-breathing bodies on the king bed—Ken and I with our queen between us.
After a few minutes—or maybe hours, I don’t know—we began to stir. We’d fucked through dinner, so I suggested we order room service for three. I phoned in three chicken Caesar salads and six beers. We didn’t bother to dress. Instead, we lounged around the bedroom laughing and playing like children in a wading pool. Other body parts were enjoyed—toes, elbows, fingers, feet—as we sunk into a genuine openness and feeling of utter relaxation. In the instant later that the knock came on the door, I wrapped a blanket around me like a toga, and guided the attendant into the living area where he rolled the tray table into the center of the room. The French doors were open and he clearly saw that the room held not only me in my toga, but two others who were apparently not dressed at all. (They had modestly pulled sheets to cover them at least superficially.) I signed the bill, designating a generous tip, and he left with a sly grin.
We sat in the living room, completely nude, eating salads washed down with cool beer. What a hunger we’d work up!
“You didn’t order dessert!” Kara complained.
“I know what I’d like for dessert!” Ken responded.
We both looked at him a little amazed. Was this gentleman insatiable? Could be, I thought. There was a time that I was good for five or six times in a night.
He surprised us with what he said next. “I’d like to watch the two of you. It would be a privilege watching the two of you make love.”
His tone and spirit of friendship aroused me again. I had, after all, only climaxed once. Kara and I moved to the bed and lay next to each other. We kissed gently, then more passionately. I ran my hands firmly across her back, up and down her sides, and between her legs, where I found her pubic hair was stiff with dried cum, but her lips were sticky and becoming wet again. My cock swelled to full size and I pressed it there, where I’d just seen another man leave his load.
The awareness that Ken was watching every move intensified our sensations. I moved to where I was above her and in one swift motion, plunged my dagger deep between her folds. There was no lubrication needed, as I found my way through her lovely tunnel lined with his sperm. She met my thrusts, which began slowly and very gradually became faster. We twisted and turned while the pumping continued. With surprising force, Kara then pushed me sideways until I was on my back. She reconnected our sexes as she straddled me, sitting on top of my cock while playing with her hard nipples. She controlled the timing now, but after a few minutes, she clearly wanted to cum together, so slammed her pussy onto my loins, sloppily sloshed its prior contents onto my legs. I came hard and her pussy tensed against my cock. We continued to stroke for a few minutes, ever slowing, until her wet lips could no longer contain my soft member.
We’d forgotten about Ken, but he sat in his chair, wiping fresh cum off his leg.
“That was fantastic!” he whispered.
“Yes, it was!” I ageed.
“Thank you for being with us,” Kara said, summing up the evening’s events for all of us.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No,” she said immediately.
Ken stayed with us through the night. Ken and I showered. Kara bathed. We slept. We made love a few more times through the night.
Early the next morning, Ken rose and said he needed to take care of some things. “Besides, I don’t think room service can take seeing the three of us again!” He picked up his clothes, laying on the floor since late the prior afternoon.
“Wait. Take these!” Kara handed him one of the silk boxers. He put them on and dressed, stuffing his previous underwear into a pocket.
I went to shake hands, but we embraced like brothers. Kara gave him a lingering kiss and I held her in my arms as we watched him walk out of the suite. We lazed around for an hour in the plush hotel robes, then dressed and found a coffee shop on Tremont Street. We sipped in silence for a long while, smiling occasionally at each other and enjoying the waking city.
“Do you think we’ll call Ken again during this trip?” I asked Kara.
“How can we?” she answered with a look that told me she was thinking of him as if he existed only in a dream. “He didn’t give us a number or a last name.”