When we first met, Joan was married to my friend Ted. I’d known Ted since we were kids together going on camping trips in the Boy Scouts. We lost touch with each other for a few years while I was in the military and then we reconnected. I never held out much hope that their marriage would last. Ted was a whiner. I mean I liked the guy and all but he could drive you nuts with the prissy way little inconveniences set him off on a whining fit.
Joan was his polar opposite! She was outgoing, funny, daring and accommodating. By the time I met Joan I was married too and together the four of us would go to movies or down the shore or simply entertain in each others homes. One evening we were at Joan and Ted’s and after several rounds of drinks the conversations got pretty sexy and before long, Joan was bringing out lingerie to show us the sexy things she owned. The sexiest of Joan’s nighties was a short, white little number that was so sheer as to be almost invisible except for three strategically placed appliqués of white fabric that were shaped like fig leaves. I tried my damndest to convince Joan and my wife, Katie to model them for us but that bright idea fell on deaf ears. I think that Joan was game but Katie was definitely not disposed to model any of Joan’s finery. For the next year I teased Joan about wanting to see her wearing her fig leaves! It was our little joke and nearly every time I saw Joan I’d make a wisecrack about it.
All this was back in the 1970s and back then, there was no internet, no dating sites or swinger sites. What there was available back then were paper magazines where couples advertised their availability for swinging and published sexy photos of themselves. Joan gave me a couple copies of one of the magazines. I wondered if the gift of the magazines was done in fun or if Joan was sending a not so subtle message but nothing ever came of it besides poking through the magazines gushing over the good looking people and roaring laughter over the not so good looking.
Eventually, I received a call from Joan that Ted had up and left her. He’d been secretly moving his possessions out of their apartment a little at a time and finally one day she came home from work to find that every trace of him was gone. To this day, I’ve never heard from Ted. He moved halfway across the country and I tried to contact him a couple times but he never returned a call so I guess he decided to abandon his former life completely and start anew. I wondered if he was angry with me for something and would’ve tried to resolve whatever the issue was, but regardless, Ted was history and that was that.
We stayed in touch with Joan and tried to be supportive of her. One day she called me to see if I knew anything about fluorescent lights as the one in her kitchen had failed. I made arrangements to meet Joan the following afternoon after we both took a half day off from work. We planned to share a take-out lunch and I’d see about her light. Sure enough the ballast had fried, and I installed a new one for her. As I was putting my tools back in a bag, Joan asked if I wanted anything. Now I knew good and well she was talking about a soda or glass of wine or something like that but just as I’d done a hundred times before I told Joan, “Sure. I want to see you wearing fig leaves. “
“Yeah right,” she said with a wry grin and she walked off toward her room. I thought she was going to the bathroom. I finished putting tools away and my jaw must’ve dropped to my chin when in walked Joan, barefoot and wearing that ultra sheer, white fig leaf shorty nightgown. I’d love to tell you that I said something eloquent but the truth is that all I could say was, “Wow!” The fact is I was thunderstruck.
Yes – it all was a joke in good fun. Yes we’d joked about this for probably a year. BUT – and this is a big one, no part of the joke was funny anymore. I was as turned-on as ever in my life and my body responded immediately. Joan’s pink nipples were poking from behind the leaves and her large areolae were clearly visible through the sheer lace. Women weren’t into shaving their pubic hair back then and Joan’s bush was tantalizingly framing the lower fig leaf. I stood in awe of her and finally managed to say that she looked beautiful and sexy.
When I heard my own voice it sounded like someone else’s because the huskiness was palpable. Joan’s reply was equally husky. I took a step towards her, and she a step towards me and what started out as a bit of teasing between friends went off like a guided missile! My mouth found hers and her tongue found mine and I could’ve fucked her right there on the kitchen floor if we hadn’t started walking – stumbling actually – in towards Joan’s living room and we fell onto the sofa still kissing madly. I started to say something and Joan interrupted and said, “Don’t say a word!”
I don’t remember getting undressed but in under a minute I was inside Joan’s body and she was meeting me thrust for thrust. I literally couldn’t think of anything other than cramming my dick into her. In no time I came and she followed suit maybe 3 seconds after me. “God I hope you’re still on the pill,” I said and Joan assured me that she was. As we lay there half on and half off of her sofa catching her breath, Joan said that she never intended for this to happen but when she saw how excited I’d become it triggered intense desire in her. I was the first man she’d been with since her husband had left her and seeing someone so turned on by her so was too much for Joan.
“Mike, you’re married,” Joan began.
“Now it’s your turn to be quiet,” I said and began kissing softly around her eyes. I picked Joan up and carried her into her bedroom. We spent the rest of the afternoon making love in just about as many ways as two people can make love. That was our first afternoon together, but not our last.
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