First Time With A Couple

Literotic asexstories – First Time With A Couple by hotwifehusb,hotwifehusb
Here We AreJulianne and I were mesmerized by the taste of our mudslides that the bartender had just whipped up for us. It’s like a chocolate shake, but lighter, but also spiked with something, not sure what, that gives it an extra kick.

Before we took our first sips though, I had to carry the mudslides in plastic cups from the bar through a thick party crowd of others, holding the cups up high and upright so they wouldn’t spill. It’s a tricky thing to maneuver through this crowd with your hands held high, because you have to sort of glide your body through what you think is a very narrow channel between people, but it’s hard to say for sure because the warm spa water rises up to our hips and the bubble jets further obfuscate exactly what is underwater.

And because we were all totally bare-ass naked, and everyone in the spa was having a loud fun time, it’s not like maneuvering through a dense cocktail party in someone’s home where at least you can mumble “excuse me, coming through, coming through, pardon me”. Here, at this nudist resort, trying to slither my way through a fuckherd of Swingers meant a high likelihood that my naked body was going to press and slide itself among the slippery flesh of others. And if we jump to the point, it’s more as if my penis was going to be the one pressing and sliding itself against who knows what body parts. Maybe even some in various states of engorgement.

And if I’m being honest, the feel of all that slippery, fleshy, mystery contact against my cock was triggering its own state of engorgement, further exasperating the situation. It was like I was a walking Divining Rod cutting through the crowd and because I was holding the cups over my head, I couldn’t use my hands to shield the expanding rod and press it downwards as in “down, boy. That’s it, just relax.”

Finally, I found my way to Julianne and handed her a mudslide and together we clinked in cheers to our very first Taste Of The Mudslide that year. We’ve been coming to this fancy Cancun resort every year (except during the pandemic and let us not speak of that again) and this trip was our fifth. We took our first sip and rolled our eyes back together at the first taste of that chocolate’y cold slush.

When Julianne’s eyes readjusted, she looked down through the jet-bubbles at our waists and even they couldn’t hide the Loch Ness monster aroused between my legs. She gently grabbed and stroked it while saying “Well, well, look who came out to join us.”

How best to describe Julianne? Do you got a few days because, believe me, I could fill every minute talking about her beautiful eyes and her contagious smile, a one-two punch that disarms even the grumpiest get-off-my-lawn’er. Her eyes are like a religious experience, and that’s coming from an atheist. In another life, she would be a nurse in a M*A*S*H unit, soothing the wounded. And for the unluckiest, she would gift them with the last thing they’ll ever see: her eyes, giving them “that look”, the kind of adoring and sympathetic look that people say, “find somebody who looks at you that way, and marry them.”

I know, nice way to bring everything down with a soldier’s death scene in the middle of a sex story. But we had to go through that to explain that she was giving me “that look” while we were naked in the spa, feeling the tropical air, drinking mudslides amongst all the other nakeds, while she was stroking me and I had my arm around her waist, squeezing her most wonderful ass.

This resort appeals to swingers, which we are not. But it also appeals to nudists who enjoy the charge of pro-sex that is in the air. We enjoy watching the various couples, three-pules and more-somes that can spontaneously show up on the surrounding beds after the sun goes down. It’s lovely scenery and as a travel destination, it beats looking at castles for me.

And as for looking, well, that’s kind of the point when you mix voyeurs and naked exhibitionists together in the same spa, everybody getting off the way they choose to. But still, there’s also this courtesy of looking-but-not-staring, which I instinctively understand on paper, but it makes no sense in real-life. Give ’em what they want: the six people pile-on who are all jittering like an over-caffeinated jackhammer, the men manly thrusting like they’re goddamn Marines, and the women’s tits all bouncing like Grandma’s Fruity Jello Mold in an earthquake, all making porny groans and escalating cries of “fuck fuck Fuck FUCK!”; they’re putting on quite the show in front of everyone in the spa that it seems a little nuts to believe that you shouldn’t want to stare because that would, gasp, deny them their privacy. Staring would also deny them what they’re getting off to, fucking in front of others. It’s complicated, looking-but-not-staring, and it’s for this reason that I don’t bring binoculars into the spa.

But it’s also fair to say that my imagination, coupled with a handful of past experiences that were quite very real and not imagined where Julianne and I brought a man to our bed, has fueled the erotic Charge of Possibility of being with another couple for the first time.

“The problem, though with a couple,” I was explaining to Julianne, “was that with three people we are this congealed unit of sexual mass. Well, maybe ‘congealed” is a nasty term. But what I mean to say is that with three it’s easier for all involved to be constantly together, all hands-on deck as it were, where it’s fingers and lips and kisses and strokes all the time on all three people.” Just like Julianne and I were stroking each other’s bodies while we were talking.

“Versus with four,” I continued while stroking that fine line on her lower back where her ass crack begins, sliding down to her asshole and then back. “… where the math of the thing makes it so easy for the four to become two sets of two. Like cell division where the four individual thingees split into two cells of two thingees each. And then it seems less like we’re all four together, experiencing it together and looking after each other and listening to each other, but instead, it’s more like we got two adjoined resort rooms with a wall between us…”

“From an engineering perspective, you’re exactly right” said the man next to us who had overheard us talking. “Sorry for butting in. I’m Joe and this is my wife, Carly.” We all waved to each other, Julianne and I introduced ourselves, and we raised our drinks in a toast.

Joe continued, “It’s like a stool. Ever notice that on an uneven floor, a three-legged stool is way sturdier than a four-legged one? The four-legged one wobbles.”

Julianne jumped in with “Because the center of gravity between three legs is easier to balance than between four legs!”

“Correcto!” declared Joe and he clink-cheers Julianne’s cup with his.

Carly, Joe’s wife, interjects, “So wait wait wait – let me understand. We travelled over a thousand miles to get here and still my husband zeroes in on the only two other geeks that are here?” And we all laughed, heartily, at that one.

“Cheers again,” I raised my mudslide. “To the geeks” and we all clicked our cups.

We each went around and explained our own personal odyssey of Geekdom. I said I wrote software. Julianne spoke of her financial and legal geek-prowess while also admitting to being an Apple fanboy. Carly explained she was a geologist by training and gravitated to a Stanford University project building early-detection warnings for earthquakes that would blast out a warning to the effected population. Joe said he was a city planner because what else can you do with an Electrical Engineering degree.

Damn. Together, we were an overhead-projector of Serious Geeks. And instantly there was a camaraderie between the four of us. We had so many questions to ask each other, which led to anecdotes and stories that cracked us up, more trips to the bar, and Hey, look at us! We’re two couples naked in a spa, hanging out with our peeps and having a great time. See, the thing is, Julianne and I are not really the socially outgoing type. We keep to ourselves, we’re together our favorite people to hang out with. So it’s not very natural for us to make new couple friends.

But here’s something I’ve always noticed about Julianne: she naturally touches people. Like, when she needs to butt in to make a point, she’ll rest her hand on the other person’s arm first. Without thinking about it, she has this natural ability to make other people at ease. I told you already, her superpower are her eyes and smile, the one-two punch, but she’s also the kind of person who is so comfortable in her own skin that her warm vibe radiates to others and puts them at ease. And in this case, she literally WAS in her own skin, so it counts as double.

And here she was now, touching Joe’s arm, touching Carly’s arm, to emphasize a point. Or when she’s emphatic and says “YES!” to a point someone is making, she puts her whole hand on top of theirs. Not in a body-slam kind of way, but in a way that feels natural, a way that I see in commercials all the time where it’s a small gathering among friends and you can tell someone just made a funny ’cause they all jerk their heads back together like they all got shot by Lee Harvey Oswald, and then they all touch each other, “Yes, yes!” they seem to be saying to each other, and then comes the commercial pitch for Hillsdale Wine, “For Good Times With Friends”.

I must have spaced out thinking about Julianne and that made-up commercial because Joe clapped his hand on my shoulder with a “you alright there?” and I embarrassingly said “I’m good, I’m good, my mind just went to Mars for a second” but I lied because, really, I was thinking about the Texas School Book Depository, and urgently told myself to get it together and stay in the game. Focus. Maybe get a water next round.

The four of us continued talking for a while, the laughs coming easily. And was it my imagination or were the four of us slowly moving closer to each other with each new subtle shift in our position? Our legs were touching each other now and it was nice that it didn’t matter whose legs were touching me, Joe’s or Carly’s, or maybe both. And we didn’t have a stenographer who was by our side taking shorthand to record every detail, so we’ll never really know.

All I remember was that Julianne, to my right, started to gently stroke my cock, and when I took a split second to look down, there was Carly’s hand lovingly stroking her husband’s cock. My right hand was gently massaging Julianne’s ass, sometimes slipping a finger slowly down her crack and then upwards, even slower, so that it could spend some quality time circling her asshole. There was no lube around so Poky The Finger was out of luck, but still, it all felt really good and the mood was giving me goosebumps.

Joe was the brave one who opened a new line of conversation.

“So let’s get back to the whole stool versus table idea. If I overheard you guys correctly, you’ve had some experiences with the three-legged stool, but not with the four-legged table, is that right?”

I felt a warm ooze of flush rise up my cheeks. I looked to Julianne and she at me as if to ask “Who’s going to field this one?” and I decided it was me, and responded “That’s correct. We’ve been with a stool about, maybe five times? Six? Maybe seven? It’s been a while. Stoopid Covid.”

Joe and Carly acknowledged with a “that fucker ruined everything” look, but luckily nobody went down that road of lamenting every hardship, and instead, Joe said “Well, we’ve never been with either a stool or a table. But we’ve talked about it! A lot! And then we booked this trip and here we – ”

Joe coughed for a moment as if he was overcome with a whoa-moment, and then he smiled, his face somewhat flushed, and laughed a bit and finished his thought with “… and here we are!”

Julianne gave me a slight elbow double-tap, a silent message meaning “You should see something because you’re going to like it” but I wasn’t sure what she meant, and I quickly looked around in this “what what?” kind of way, and she again gave me another signal, this time by gripping her hand around my cock tighter.

Normally when we’re in the spa here at night, she has subtly given me the “you should see something” tap but it’s usually followed by a warning grip, say, on my thigh, which means “Look, but don’t be so obvious. Try not to stare.” And this usually instructs me to scan the beds surrounding the spa because there’s some hot fucking going on she knows I’d like to witness.

But in this case, a quick scan around the beds revealed they were all empty, and for a second I had this lost feeling like everyone knows something except me. I looked at Julianne for help and she raised her eyebrows like Groucho Marx while exaggeratingly pointing her eyes downwards and I followed their path and then: OHHHHHHH, now I see it!

Julianne was stroking Joe’s cock!

I guess once it was revealed that we were the Experienced Ones, though not by much, Julianne decided to take on the role of Lead and move us to the next step. It’s funny because in regular life, she likes to hold back and let others take the active lead in things. In work situations, though, Julianne, has a way of taking control of a discussion if it’s veering off-course and herds everybody back to the topic at hand. But she does it in a sleight-of-hand way that isn’t outwardly dominating, but more in this subtle way by asking just the right clarifying question so that when somebody else answers it, it magically rights the ship and makes them feel like it was their brilliance that saved the meeting.

What I’ve loved about our previous three-legged stool experiences is that I got to play the role of Instigator: finding the right person, communicating through a series of emails or texts, right up to the point of scheduling our rendezvouses in various hotels, getting the door when our lover knock-knocked on the room door, greeting them, introducing Julianne, and pouring wine. I still need some work in the How Do We Start This Thing part, but this is where Julianne shines and she puts her wine glass down and goes up to the lucky fellow for a kiss and an unbuttoning of his shirt.

In the spa with Joe and Carly, we blow right passed the unbuttoning part because we’re already as naked as naked could be. But still, we needed someone to light the match. And so, oblivious to me, Julianne had reached her hand underwater, presumably first acknowledging Joy’s hand, who was gently stroking her husband’s cock, and with a tender touch of permission, she asked consent to touch her husband. Presumably Carly granted the ask by taking Julianne’s hand in hers and then placing it on top of Joe’s penis, while Joe was mid-sentence which triggered his “whoa” moment. This move also let Joe know that his wife was OK with this.

When Joe regained his composure after his moment, he proceeded with a touch of nervous laughter and completed his thought “… and here we are!”

And here we are.

TableAs I mentioned before, what makes this situation different from arranging to meet with a stranger in a hotel room where you have to somehow negotiate the oddness of meeting somebody for the first time for the purpose of fucking, here at this swingers resort it’s the normalest thing you’ve ever seen. Four naked people getting out of the spa, walking to their towels and drying off, gathering their things, and walking together to a room. In this case, I led the way to our room. We happened to have a larger suite and it just seemed like the natural thing to do. Also, even though this was going to be our first time with a couple, since we had prior experiences with others it was our name on top of the leaderboard so there was a sense that we were pros at this. I honestly don’t think anybody was actually thinking that. I think instead, we were all good-nervous and pretty fucking horny.

I opened the door to our room and the four of us were now inside. We agreed that getting another bottle of wine would be a good thing, so I ordered two to be safe. We were in the living room part of the suite and there was a slight tension about What’s Next, knowing we should wait until the wine arrives. Plus, we were all naked and a bit damp, so nobody wanted to sit on the couch. Julianne, the hero, went to get us some towels and laid them over the couch cushions. The couch was a L-shape one so Joe and Carly sat down close to each other on one cushion, and Julianne and I sat on the L-side perpendicular to them. This allowed us to look and gently stroke each other.

It just worked out that Joe’s leg was closest to mine and we both stroked each other without a care of OMG two guys touching each other! I really liked that, and it put me at ease about the whole three-legged stool vs. the four-legged table dilemma; we seemed less likely now to avoid any man-to-man contact by quickly cell-dividing and pairing off.

Watching Julianne and Carly stroke each other was, OK, I’ll just come right out and say it: it was HOT. And I feel a bit ashamed saying that because of the whole conditioning that comes from porn and even The Lifestyle that two women sharing earthly delights with each other was hot, while two guys in the exact same situation was kinda iffy and even frowned upon in some circles.

But whatever, who cares, certainly not us. Carly and Joe asked more questions about our three-legged experiences, how it felt, what did we think during it, and more importantly, afterwards. Were there jealousies? Julianne charmed and relaxed them with her authentic relaxed self and said:

“When you come down it, it’s just sex. I’m 100% committed to my husband and we both know how much we love each other, and that’s been consistent every moment of every day since we got together years ago. So these experiences for me just enrich the love that we already have for each other, and they make great memories that my husband likes to relive over and over.”

She waits for a beat.

“… and OVER and OVER” she emphasizes while we all laugh. When she’s right, she’s right.

And I add: “Plus, it’s going to feel SO. GOOD!”, adding “And if ever something doesn’t feel good, or it doesn’t feel right, or your senses get ahead of you and you feel overloaded, it’s so easy, just say ‘Stop’. Anytime. It’s like pulling the train cord to stop the train. Then we’ll all stop. Take a breath. Maybe you two want to talk, maybe we’ll need to talk. Or leave and take a walk. Honestly. Everything and all things are possible. And with that said, is there anything or place on your bodies that anybody feels uncomfortable about and wishes to avoid?”

We clear that level of consent and discuss contraception while I talk about the various lubes, cremes, and edible oils we have.

And with perfect timing, the door knocked with our wine. I asked around if anybody would like some and we all naturally came to the choice of skipping the wine for now, because for fuck’s sake, can we take this party to the bedroom now?

I stand up and give Julianne one hand, while I offer the other to Joe. Joe stands up and offers his hand to his gorgeous wife and his other to my gorgeous wife, and we laugh as we four attempt to move as a singular block of flesh with eight legs down the steps of the narrow corridor that leads to the bedroom. We tried but eventually we had to break up our chain and form in single file to the bedroom, ass slaps along the way.

I pulled the blanket off the bed and lit a candle while while Julianne closed the curtains making it pitch dark except for the flickering flame. I turned on some ambient music as Carly and Joe got on top of the bed and started to gently make out. Julianne and I came together standing up and held each other and kissed, giving each other long loving strokes up and down our bodies, and then we crawled on top of the bed with them.

If our stenographer was there in the room with us, she’d be a posh British woman, twenty-something, sitting in a chair with her leg crossed over the other and rocking it to her own personal beat. She’d try not to pop her bubble gum too loud while taking notes and she would have noted that Carly and Joe laid their buck-ass naked bodies down in the middle of the bed. When Julianne and I climbed on from the same side, I snuggled close to Carly while Julianne had to crawl over both of them like she was at a slumber party, giggling the whole time which was just the perfect sound to really disarm everybody’s nerves. Because, friends, you have to hear Julianne’s giggle just once to know it will melt your heart like butter in a microwave.

Also, Julianne flashed her spread pussy during the giggle crawl for all to see.

We all started to caress each other very slowly. There were whispers of more consent questions – “can I touch you here?” – and I heard Julianne ask Joe if she could kiss him and he answered with a soft ‘yes’ but it was Carly who answered in a more emphatic “Yes!” and she turned away from me and got up on one elbow to watch Julianne take Joe’s mouth in both her hands and give him the hottest loving gentle kiss ever. You could see it, but you could also hear it. Carly and I were mesmerized before we broke out of our spells and I asked “May I kiss You?”, and she said in this hushed tone “fuck yes” but she kind of elongated the ‘fuck’ part so it was more like “fuuuuuuuck yes”. So I looked into her eyes which glistened in the candlelight and bent down to give her a long, soft kiss.

I have to say, it felt kind of weird, and just a little bit wrong. I’ve watched Julianne kiss other men before, often while they were fucking her and I could hear every sloshy wet sound that came from their genitals with each thrust. But these kisses with other guys – the visuals, the sounds, the pound-pound-pound jolt her head made with each of the guy’s thrust – these memories are safely stored in my memory banks and bring me so much joy years and years later as I recall them. Because it was me wanting to watch Julianne get fucked and her wanting to get fucked that started this whole business. I am supremely invested in giving her happiness.

But this new feeling is an entirely different thing. The brand-new lips and different mouth and the unfamiliar smell of Carly’s breath, and the tenderness but also the pure horniness of what was happening was a new thing for me. With my wife right there! And while I knew that over time this feeling will normalize – and maybe by the next hour even – still – it was foreign to me. I reached out my hand and stroked Julianne’s back and her hair, as if to check in and say “It’s me. Checking in. You good with all this?” And if I, Mr. Already Experienced, was feeling this, Great Caesar’s Ghost, what were Carly and Joe thinking?

But my answer was quickly answered as the CarlyJoe Couple broke their kisses with us and turned to each other and started kissing. Hard. With a lot of passion. And I took this opportunity to reach over them and kiss Julianne just as hard while whispering “you ok?” only to hear back with excited breath “fuck yeah!” And that made me feel so good.

The stenographer would make note that as of this moment, Julianne and I were both on top of Joe and Carly, each couple kissing their spouses. I could feel Joe’s hard cock poke into my stomach while my cock was pressed against Carly’s thigh.

I was obscuring Joe’s cock from my – holy hell – what was happening to my wife? She was turning into a werewolf in front of my eyes! No, no, not the growing fur part nor the growing fang part. It was more like Julianne had become possessed, like her spirit animal was now The Werewolf and fucking-a she looked absolutely RAVENOUS! And I was in the big fat way of what she wanted most – Joe’s cock!

With the strength of a wildebeest (not really, but just go with me on this bit of dramatic embellishment), she PUSHED me away off of Joe’s cock and bent down to ravish his sacred love bone in her mouth. She was like a cowboy with no table manners sopping up a hot bowl of soup with a biscuit. I took a photo with my mental camera – SNAP! – for prosperity.

God, I love Bad Bad Julianne.

Carly rolled on top of me and with similar wildebeest strength, she pushed me down on the bed, on my back, and practically impaled her mouth on my cock. The sounds she was making! Her slobbering and out of control groans sounded like a table of rabbis who were just told for the first time that it was OK to eat barbequed pork ribs: you can imagine their manic smacking mouths attacking those ribs, BBQ sauce dripping down their chins. Except in this case, it was a mixture of saliva and my pre-cum dripping down the sides of Carly’s face while her wet tongue was devouring my hard-on.

I wanted to look over at Joe and have this record-scratch freeze-film moment showing our frozen faces in explicit delight while my voice narrated “Yep, that’s me and Joe. You’re probably wondering how we ended up here.” But really, what I was really thinking at the time was “don’t cum, don’t cum, please don’t cum” because what I really wanted was for this night to last a long, long time.

And Joe must’ve been thinking the same thing as he gracefully told Julianne “Easy, easy. I want to last” and I said to Carly “me too” and so Carly crawled towards my face and commanded “open your mouth” after which she poked her tongue inside my mouth and coated my lips and the roof of my mouth with her mixture of pre-cum and Carly-sauce. And after that we kissed some more and then I rolled her over on her back so that both husband and wife were on their backs, their legs splayed, both of them reflecting wetness from their genitals, and then I said “I’m going to lick you both, is that ok?” and they nodded their heads like excited puppies as I dove down first to lick Carly.

Julianne, meanwhile, giving Joe a rest from her cocksucking, grabbed some crème lube from the bedstand, and squirted some on her fingers. Then she maneuvered herself so she could bend down and kiss Carly while I was licking her. Then, at the same time, Julianne bent Joe’s knees apart so she could place her lubed hands on Joe’s balls and then slowly massage them, lowering her hand down his taint towards his asshole.

“Ok if I play with your ass, Joe?” she asked. And before Joe could answer, Carly somehow was able to proxy for Joe with an animated muffle (because Julianne, my wife, you see, was totally kissing this hot woman like a rabid animal) – “Yes! My God, Yes!” – but what the fantasy stenographer heard was more akin to the sound you make trying to answer a dentist’s question while he’s stuffed your mouth with cotton. Our loyal stenographer bent forward a little as if this would help her understand what Carly had said. It would’ve been no use for her to ask in a clipped British accent “I’m sorry, luv, what was that again?” because any future attempts would just sound the same.

Plus, she’s not really there.

Meanwhile it was Carly who looked like she was going to win the prize for First Orgasm Of The Night because once my tongue found the sweet spot and the sweet rhythm, Carly began to breathe heavier and heavier, making these primal high-pitched sounds that were utterly untranslatable, so much so that our stenographer slammed down her pen in resignation as if to say “Oh, for fuck’s sake, how am I supposed to do my job with this lot?”

Carly’s noises were speeding up, oh yeah she’s gonna blast soon, and I made every effort to not change one iota of anything I was doing. I kept licking at the same pace, at the same pressure, until finally she volcano’d and vice-gripped her well-toned muscular thighs against both my ears and locked my face into place whether I liked it or not, my breathing be damned. I tried to press-and-hold while she rode it out, but she needed more pressure, so Carly grabbed the back of my neck and smashed my face more into her cunt. It’s possible there was a neck crack when that happened and, sure, breaking my neck would all be in good service of her pleasure, but luckily, she eventually lightened up her vice so I could breathe and ensure my neck was, in fact, not broken.

Joe, who himself was ooh’ing and aah’ing as my wife was slowly tunneling her finger up his ass, turned over to hug and kiss his wife, his hands running all over her. Julianne and I bent over them and we, too, kissed and hugged and swept our hands all over each other. It was nice to feel all the love and acceptance radiating off that bed. The four of us had found our center of gravity.

Together, Julianne and I rolled off Carly and Joe and found our own spot on the bed. Julianne was on her back and my right hand was sliding up her inner thigh. I needed more skin-glide so I added some edible oil, lavender, on my hand, and then continued my slide up her thigh until I was able to palm her cunt. My fingers moved slowly like they were underwater sea plants in a barely moving tide, moving in psychedelic slow-motion as if they were exploring a new sea cave. I could hear her breathing start to rise and felt the shifts of naked bodies around us configuring into new positions.

I looked down onto Julianne’s chest to see both Joe and Carly, each snacking on her tits. Julianne muttered a “oh fuck” of ecstasy while my hand slowly masturbated her cunt. I bent down and kissed her stomach while my tongue started to explore around her hips. A hand reached over and started to gently stroke my cock, sometimes rising to the tip and exploring the head.

The combination of all the feelings happening at the same time was dizzy and glorious. Was I high? I knew I wasn’t but yet it had that same quality to it. The flickering candlelight, the cacophony of groans, the turn-on of fingering my wife just the way she likes it – the Giving – and the feeling of my cock being played with – the Taking: it made it impossible to concentrate on just one thing at a time. And I really enjoyed the chaos of the moment. Not a “bad” chaos, but just the opposite. I loved that I was losing myself. That I was thinking less and feeling more. That I was morphing into a primal state.

“So this is what meditation must feel like” was the last thought I had before falling into an abyss of a waking sort of dream.

From here, my memories and the timeline gets mushy.

I do remember hearing Julianne groaning louder, louder than usual, and starting to use phrases with religious embellishments like “oh god, oh sweet Jesus, jesus fucking christ”. And I recall how her body shook – I mean seriously, her entire body – because I could feel the ripples through my lips as I was kissing her skin and I could feel the ripples through my fingers wet with her squirting ejaculate.

And I went to kiss her but I had to wait my turn because Carly and Joe together were fucking her face with affection. I was filled with so much love for my wife, but also for these two amazing lovers we just happened to have met in the spa not an hour or two earlier. I loved how they were treating Julianne, how they were so fucking adorable and loving and giving. I just had to get my kisses in so I was able to slowly dip my face down towards Julianne’s and they sensed this and parted just a bit to let me in. So there we were, the three of us, kissing my wife’s face like she was being love-attacked by three puppies. Julianne, over-stimulated, started to laugh-scream, “Ok! Ok! It’s too much!” so Joe and I instinctively backed off leaving Carly to, alone, give her some gentler, slower affection.

God, the rest is so blurry. I remember the next morning, coffee in bed, while Julianne and I kept asking each other “what happened next?” or “wait did we…?”

I just have memories in the form of photographs pieced together from our morning remembering. Images that also contain smells and sounds.

There’s one where Joe is fucking Julianne. Her legs are splayed open, her hands gripping her thighs back as wide as she could make them to give Joe maximum cunt. Her neck trying to raise off the pillow to see, her mouth and eyes popped wide open. Joe’s muscular ass tightened in mid-thrust. I hear his sweaty grunts. Her cries.

I have another photo of Joe with his cock in his hands over Julianne’s cunt, but this time he is looking at the ceiling and seemingly howling, another werewolf in our midst.

Another frozen shot of Carly looking up from sucking Julianne’s tit, her mouth, too, opened in astonishment, with a gob of Joe’s flying cum smacking her in the chin. I can hear the wet slap of contact.

Next one: Julianne’s chest covered in cum. She tries to bend forward to kiss Joe but is blocked by Carly and I, our heads in the way, licking the spoils.

I remember a mental snapshot of Julianne forcibly pushing me down onto the bed. I probably had a bit of shocked face at her wildebeest-spirit-animal fuckbeast possession.

I remember not a picture so much as more of that intense cacophony of sound and feeling and what is happening but jesus fuck it all feels so fucking good. A brush of hair stroking against my shoulder – that must’ve been Carly. Julianne and Joe tongue-fighting over my cock. My finger up Carly’s cunt while she kissed me.

At that point while I don’t remember it exactly, I could imagine any semblance of me trying to hold back to delay my orgasm being the stupidest idea ever. It was no match, I was outnumbered. Three against one. Three formidable lovers against, by then, a wiped out older guy. I remember trying to cry out when I came, but I was being kiss-smothered so I just wrapped my arms around whoever was there and it was nice to feel so much different skin. I get super-sensitive after I cum, my nerves just can’t handle it, and there was a moment, I remember, where it felt like a massive overstimulation torture and I had to get them to stop. I tapped out on the skin I was touching. I’m guessing it was Julianne, familiar with every aspect of my body, who pressed her hand down on my spasming cock to give the poor thing some defense against future stimulation, a loving act of protection and warmth.

Julianne and I drank more coffee in bed after putting all the pieces together of what happened last night. I passed out, apparently. Carly and Joe went back to their room. I never washed my face before bed which explained the cum-crust on my cheek. “Wait, but I got that… when?” Julianne retold the story of Joe coming all over her chest and Carly and I foraging for it.

I told Julianne, “Man, this all would be so much easier to remember if we only had, like, one of those British mod stenographers taking notes – WAIT!” And over by the chair across from the bed, on the floor, were several pieces of notepaper torn from a spiral notebook. With dictation symbols over them.

No there wasn’t.

But, damn, imagine if there was…