Okay, we had lots and lots of fun. We exchanged weekend visits every other week, John and David taking turns to sleep with me, and you have of course already read about me going in to say goodnight to John on the nights when I was sleeping with David etc. I thoroughly enjoyed the attention that I was getting from the two of them and never tired of having sex with each of them.
Little gifts of underwear were always rewarded with an open display in front of both David and John, and during the summer months I would easily let them persuade me to walk around John’s flat during the day wearing no more than bra and knickers, it being the accepted thing that when we came back to the flat after having been out somewhere I would take off my outer clothing, sometimes even wearing no more than my knickers – the boys loved to see me behaving perfectly normally around the flat when bare breasted, and of course there were always the moments when one or other of them would come up behind me a fondle my breasts… but that was all part of the relationship. There would even be the odd occasion when John and I might disappear into the bedroom and when we would see David standing in the doorway watching us making out on the bed, or we might be in the lounge and John might pull me down onto his knee and start to kiss me or fondle my breasts and perhaps at the same time finger me – it may seem strange to you and totally unreal – but this was the relationship that we had quickly forged with one another. Indoors I was rarely fully dressed and nothing was forbidden – it was a totally and absolutely intimate relationship with total and absolute freedom of expression. I might be stark naked or bare breasted for hours and nothing might happen – then one or other would take me in his arms for a kiss and a cuddle, and then the other one would want to join in and I could be in a clinch with one and feel the wandering hands of the other going over my bottom or easing my legs apart – this was life when the three of us were together. It was an exciting time, maybe an exhausting time, but it was a supremely happy time and one during which I never ever said ‘No’. I loved it, and so did they.
I often wondered if friends and neighbours ever suspected anything. I think not, but David and I did have to stop John hanging my knickers on the washing line in the back garden at home… he always insisted that he hand wash my undies for me and seeing him hanging them out to dry may have caused raised eyebrows.
You know the end of the story, you know that we ended up frequently sharing a bed together with me having sex with both David and John one after the other (it having become important to me that David made love to me immediately after John for purely emotional reasons). Yes I would play with myself and take myself to an orgasm in front of them, and David has told you of the one or two minor irritations that occurred from time to time – mainly because I am a person who needs some space, and I quite frankly never ever quite managed to persuade John to not follow me into the bathroom in the mornings when I went for a shower, and David never ever seemed to realise that this meant that I would always need to make use of the toilet whilst John was there – or was it that he knew and just never said anything, and anyway, as they say, you can get used to almost anything after a while and I have to admit that it was something that eventually ceased to be at all embarrassing as I gradually cared more deeply for John and the end result being me not caring whether he turned his back or not… but looking back now I can hardly believe that it happened.
It also seems quite unbelievable that I ever went topless in a motor boat on the river Thames at Henley (where they won’t allow women near the boat race if their skirt as not below the knee). Also unbelievable is that I ever spent a week living totally naked at the nudist club in the south of England, where the caravan/trailer embarrassingly rocked whenever I was having sex in there with one or other of the boys… I have used the term ‘boys’ in this story, but at the time I referred to them (in private of course) as husband number one and husband number two and that is what they were.
I was deeply fond of John and after each weekend together both David and I would look forward to the next meeting. If it took place at my home then it was accepted that I would excuse myself saying that I would slip upstairs in order to help John to unpack, if at John’s home then David would say that he was going out for a newspaper, and after that first private half hour of comfort for John we would be back to normal once again with everything being done openly. The only thing that changed was an agreement that I would willingly and enjoyably give myself to him during the day – and frequently did so, but that otherwise John would settle down to having sex last thing at night and first thing in the morning, but not awaken me in the middle of the night.
I had sex with John because I felt the need for frequent sex, David was in full agreement because of his deep seated urge to see me having sex with another man, but sometimes I wondered was it actually sex that John so frequently needed, or was it just that he needed the constant reassurance of there being a woman who would freely give herself to him, because not always would he ejaculate. Yes John admitted being in love with me, though he never once remotely suggested that I might leave David nor would I have done so, and yes it was love that I felt for John, different than the love that I shared with David, but it was still love and I sincerely cared for him.
It is funny how we sometimes look back on past events. Indeed it was early the other morning whilst in bed that I turned to David and, right out of the blue, asked him how many times it must have been that John and I had fucked each other. It took a few minutes before David reasoned that because we met fortnightly for roughly three years and on average it must have happened about six times on each of those weekends, then it must have been somewhere about four hundred and fifty times – “Why do you ask.” “Just wondering,” was my answer as I snuggled back beneath the duvet with my memories.
..just one more bit to come
Little gifts of underwear were always rewarded with an open display in front of both David and John, and during the summer months I would easily let them persuade me to walk around John’s flat during the day wearing no more than bra and knickers, it being the accepted thing that when we came back to the flat after having been out somewhere I would take off my outer clothing, sometimes even wearing no more than my knickers – the boys loved to see me behaving perfectly normally around the flat when bare breasted, and of course there were always the moments when one or other of them would come up behind me a fondle my breasts… but that was all part of the relationship. There would even be the odd occasion when John and I might disappear into the bedroom and when we would see David standing in the doorway watching us making out on the bed, or we might be in the lounge and John might pull me down onto his knee and start to kiss me or fondle my breasts and perhaps at the same time finger me – it may seem strange to you and totally unreal – but this was the relationship that we had quickly forged with one another. Indoors I was rarely fully dressed and nothing was forbidden – it was a totally and absolutely intimate relationship with total and absolute freedom of expression. I might be stark naked or bare breasted for hours and nothing might happen – then one or other would take me in his arms for a kiss and a cuddle, and then the other one would want to join in and I could be in a clinch with one and feel the wandering hands of the other going over my bottom or easing my legs apart – this was life when the three of us were together. It was an exciting time, maybe an exhausting time, but it was a supremely happy time and one during which I never ever said ‘No’. I loved it, and so did they.
I often wondered if friends and neighbours ever suspected anything. I think not, but David and I did have to stop John hanging my knickers on the washing line in the back garden at home… he always insisted that he hand wash my undies for me and seeing him hanging them out to dry may have caused raised eyebrows.
You know the end of the story, you know that we ended up frequently sharing a bed together with me having sex with both David and John one after the other (it having become important to me that David made love to me immediately after John for purely emotional reasons). Yes I would play with myself and take myself to an orgasm in front of them, and David has told you of the one or two minor irritations that occurred from time to time – mainly because I am a person who needs some space, and I quite frankly never ever quite managed to persuade John to not follow me into the bathroom in the mornings when I went for a shower, and David never ever seemed to realise that this meant that I would always need to make use of the toilet whilst John was there – or was it that he knew and just never said anything, and anyway, as they say, you can get used to almost anything after a while and I have to admit that it was something that eventually ceased to be at all embarrassing as I gradually cared more deeply for John and the end result being me not caring whether he turned his back or not… but looking back now I can hardly believe that it happened.
It also seems quite unbelievable that I ever went topless in a motor boat on the river Thames at Henley (where they won’t allow women near the boat race if their skirt as not below the knee). Also unbelievable is that I ever spent a week living totally naked at the nudist club in the south of England, where the caravan/trailer embarrassingly rocked whenever I was having sex in there with one or other of the boys… I have used the term ‘boys’ in this story, but at the time I referred to them (in private of course) as husband number one and husband number two and that is what they were.
I was deeply fond of John and after each weekend together both David and I would look forward to the next meeting. If it took place at my home then it was accepted that I would excuse myself saying that I would slip upstairs in order to help John to unpack, if at John’s home then David would say that he was going out for a newspaper, and after that first private half hour of comfort for John we would be back to normal once again with everything being done openly. The only thing that changed was an agreement that I would willingly and enjoyably give myself to him during the day – and frequently did so, but that otherwise John would settle down to having sex last thing at night and first thing in the morning, but not awaken me in the middle of the night.
I had sex with John because I felt the need for frequent sex, David was in full agreement because of his deep seated urge to see me having sex with another man, but sometimes I wondered was it actually sex that John so frequently needed, or was it just that he needed the constant reassurance of there being a woman who would freely give herself to him, because not always would he ejaculate. Yes John admitted being in love with me, though he never once remotely suggested that I might leave David nor would I have done so, and yes it was love that I felt for John, different than the love that I shared with David, but it was still love and I sincerely cared for him.
It is funny how we sometimes look back on past events. Indeed it was early the other morning whilst in bed that I turned to David and, right out of the blue, asked him how many times it must have been that John and I had fucked each other. It took a few minutes before David reasoned that because we met fortnightly for roughly three years and on average it must have happened about six times on each of those weekends, then it must have been somewhere about four hundred and fifty times – “Why do you ask.” “Just wondering,” was my answer as I snuggled back beneath the duvet with my memories.
..just one more bit to come
