I met Gene through a mutual friend, Sharon. Sharon and I had dated in high school, although she was a year older and a grade ahead of me. We dated from my junior year until she graduated. She was my first full sexual partner—meaning we had sexual intercourse. After she graduated and started college, we drifted apart. That’s when she met Gene. They dated for a few years and then got married. Sharon wanted kids right away.

I was looking for a place to live while attending junior college and working full-time. Working a full-time job with a full college load was a real grind. That’s when Gene offered me a part-time job and a room in his house. I accepted because it gave me more time to study and a chance to learn a new trade. I was mechanically inclined, so working on Porsches was a bonus, not to mention being around Sharon.

They had been married about a year, and Sharon still wasn’t pregnant. She was definitely frustrated, even though they had sex frequently. I would listen to them at night through the thin walls of the house. One morning, Gene left early for work. I was still in bed, awake but lingering for a few more minutes.

Sharon came in, saw that I was awake, and looked sad. I asked what was wrong. She explained how she just wasn’t getting pregnant, despite having frequent sex. I said, “Yeah, I know,” because I could hear them all the time. That’s when she said, “Will you hold me?” and crawled under the covers with me. I always slept naked in those days. Sharon wasted no time grabbing my cock and saying, “Please fuck me, Dick. I really need to feel your big cock inside me.”

My little head took over. I rolled over on top of her. She was already very wet. I started to go down on her, but she stopped me, saying she had just had sex with Gene and wasn’t clean. “Just please put it in and fuck me. I need it.” Sliding into her cum-filled, steaming-hot pussy was incredible. It was my first time with sloppy seconds. We fucked for a good fifteen minutes. I held back, wanting her to orgasm first. Finally, Sharon began what I recognized as the start of her climax, the moaning, the pleas to fuck her harder, the deep breaths. Then her body locked up, she started shaking, and she screamed my name: “Oh, Dick, fuck me!” My own orgasm hit right then, and I squirted seven or eight powerful shots of cum as deep as I could inside her.

After our orgasms, we stayed connected for at least ten minutes, kissing and cuddling. When I finally softened and slipped out, Sharon immediately covered her pussy with her hand, excused herself, and ran to the bathroom.

I felt guilty around Gene afterward, but I told myself she had initiated it. About a month later, Sharon and Gene announced that she was pregnant. They were overjoyed. Later, Sharon confided in me that she wasn’t sure whether I had gotten her pregnant or Gene had. It remained our secret.

They named the baby Debbie. She was a beautiful blend of Sharon and me—blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin, and incredibly cute. Shortly after her birth, I moved to eastern Washington. I kept in touch with Gene and Sharon and visited them whenever I went to San Diego to see family. I eventually got married and lost touch with them. By then, they had divorced. Sharon and Debbie had moved to western Montana, about two hundred miles from where I lived.

It was the mid-1980s when Gene contacted me. He had gotten my phone number from my mom. He called to say he was in Montana and wanted to stop for a short visit on his way back to San Diego. Gene spent the night and left the next morning. He mentioned that he had given my phone number to Sharon because she had expressed interest in seeing me and the house I had built.

A few months later, Sharon contacted me and asked if she could stay with my wife and me. She was coming to the area to purchase items for the house she was building. Of course, I said yes. My wife was excited to meet her. Naturally, she knew nothing about my history with Sharon. I secretly hoped Nancy would find a reason to run errands. As it turned out, Sharon arrived on a Friday, and on Saturday Nancy had planned an overnight trip to visit her girlfriend sixty miles away. I suspected their relationship wasn’t strictly platonic, but I wasn’t certain.

Saturday morning, after breakfast, Nancy left and said she would return the next morning. It was firewood season, so I had plenty of splitting and stacking to do. Sharon was used to hard work and offered to help when she returned from the building supply store. It was mid-afternoon when she got back. I was nearly finished, so she helped me wrap things up. Afterward, we sat on the front porch with a couple of ice-cold beers and chatted about life and all its twists and turns.

I asked about Debbie and how old she was now. “Wow, almost eleven,” Sharon said. Time had flown. Then she told me she had something important to share about Debbie, something only she knew. I had no idea what was coming. “Dick, you don’t know this,” she said, “but you are actually Debbie’s father.”

That morning we spent together was what got her pregnant. “Gene had no idea, but I suspected it. After we divorced, I had a DNA test done using some of your hair I had collected from a hairbrush when you lived with us. I had insisted on a vasectomy for Gene after Debbie was born, so no one could question it.”

I was stunned. We talked about it for a couple of hours. Then I said, “Sharon, I really need to shower. After that, I’ll cook us dinner, barbecue some elk steaks if you like.” I went upstairs to shower. I had almost finished when the bathroom door opened. Sharon came in with a towel wrapped around her, dropped it, and climbed into the shower. “Why waste water?” she said with a smile.

Sharon was still very attractive, a little heavier than when we were younger, but still shapely. Her breasts were fuller, and she had stopped shaving her pussy, revealing a healthy patch of hair. My cock rose quickly as she stared at it. She reached out, grabbed it, and said, “Will you please wash me?”

She never let go of my hard-on the entire time. I shampooed her hair, washed her back, then her front, spending plenty of time on her breasts, her pussy, and her ass. I was dying to taste her. I remembered how wild she used to get when I licked, sucked, and fingered her. She hadn’t changed.

After the shower, I dried us both, led her to the guest room, laid her down, and slipped between her thighs. I ate her pussy like a starving man. It didn’t take long before Sharon was writhing, calling my name, and begging for more. “Oh, Dick, eat me. Nibble on my clit, you remember how I like it. Oh god, just fuck me.” She was getting very vocal, saying all sorts of nasty things.

I slid up and pushed my hard cock into her in one smooth stroke. She cried out and kept talking dirty: “Fuck me, pound my cunt, you bastard. Cum in me. Please don’t stop.” I fucked her like a madman, giving her exactly what she wanted, until I couldn’t hold back. With a roar, I yelled, “Take my sperm, you cunt, all of it!”

Exhausted, we lay there with my cock still inside her as cum oozed out. Sharon hugged me and whispered, “I never thought we’d get to fuck again. I was hoping for this, but…” I rolled to the side to spoon her and told her what a great fuck she still was. She rolled over, grabbed my cock, and said, “I know you can go again, unless you’ve lost your stamina.” I replied, “Let’s find out.”

We chatted for a few minutes about what she wanted for the second round. Then Sharon flipped around, took my soft cock into her mouth, and planted her cum-soaked pussy on my face. Nothing gets me hard faster than a pussy full of cum on my face.

The oral sex lasted a long time. By the time she was ready to mount me, her pussy was clean of my previous load. My cock stood tall, all six inches of it. Sharon said, “I want to be on top, cowgirl riding her cowboy.” She asked for lube. I retrieved it, and she spread it on my cock. Before I could say anything, she sank down. It felt incredibly tight. She whispered, “How do you like my ass?” It was the first time I had ever been in Sharon’s ass. It was hot, tight, and amazing.

She took control, riding me hard. Sharon had at least two orgasms before I felt mine building. When I finally tensed up, I squirted deep inside her ass. She yelled, “I can feel it! I feel you cumming!” Another orgasm shook her, and her pussy juice ran down my groin.

Sharon rolled us over, so I was still buried in her ass. We kissed as she said, “I always wanted you to fuck my ass, but I never knew how to ask.” My cock eventually softened and slipped out, followed by a stream of cum. We cuddled until Sharon got up to clean herself. When she returned, I used the bathroom too, secretly hoping the night wasn’t over.

We talked more about how long it had been and how she wished she had contacted me sooner, before I married Nancy. Sharon stroked me until I was hard again, then slid down and sucked me with that incredible technique of hers. Her rapid sucking on the head, followed by deep-throating and throat muscles milking me drove me wild. I had to stop her before I came in her mouth; I wanted her pussy.

I pulled her up, licked her pussy to make sure she was wet, then bent her in half with her ankles by her ears. I drove into her hard and fast, pounding as deep as I could. It didn’t take long. Sharon screamed through a powerful orgasm, squeezing my cock so tightly I could barely move. Moments later, I came hard, pumping deep inside her. Exhaustion hit us both, and I fell asleep still inside her.

I didn’t feel her move me or pull up the blankets. I woke the next morning exhausted but smelling coffee. After a light breakfast and coffee, we cleaned up and straightened the house. I didn’t want Nancy to see any evidence of our activities, though I suspected she wouldn’t have cared. Sharon left a day later. I gave her my work phone number.

I didn’t see her again for five years, though we talked on the phone occasionally. She had a new boyfriend in Montana, and Debbie was in high school.

It was the early 1990s before we met up again. I had remarried and moved to the city when she called and asked if she and her boyfriend could stay with us for a few nights during another shopping trip.

They arrived on a Thursday afternoon. My wife Tammy and I both worked Friday. It was a long, frustrating day, and I didn’t get home until 7:45. Tammy’s car was there, but Sharon’s truck was gone. The house looked dark. I figured they must have all gone out.

Inside, I looked for a note when I heard a rhythmic thumping from upstairs, definitely a bed hitting the wall, along with moans and groans coming from our bedroom. Tammy and I had an unspoken open marriage. I knew she played around. I had a couple of male friends I enjoyed as well. We just didn’t usually do it at home.

I listened at the door long enough to confirm Tammy was getting fucked. Not wanting to embarrass anyone, I went back downstairs. Soon Sharon returned. I didn’t mention what I had heard. We chatted outside for about ten minutes, giving them time to finish. When we went inside, Tammy and Karl were standing at the kitchen bar having drinks, acting as if nothing had happened.

I looked Tammy in the eyes and smirked, letting her know I was aware. Then I went upstairs to shower and change. I purposely wore loose shorts with no underwear, hoping to gauge Karl’s interest.

Downstairs, Tammy and Sharon were fixing dinner. I grabbed a beer and invited Karl to see my computer and radio setup in the basement. I wanted to get him alone. The basement had a TV room, bedroom, bathroom, and my workshop area. Karl seemed impressed.

We sat in the TV room. I took a higher chair and spread my legs casually, giving him a clear view up my shorts. After catching him looking several times, I asked directly, “See anything you like?” He stammered, so I added, “I can smell my wife’s pussy on you.” That broke him. I explained how I knew, then reminded him of our agreement: if either of us got caught in the marital bed, the other got a turn.

Karl turned pale. He said he didn’t swing that way. I replied, “What would Sharon say if she found out?” That was all it took. I told him to follow me to the bedroom.

Once inside, I locked the door and sat on the bed. “Crawl over here, Karl.” He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled to me. I had him remove my shorts. My hard, leaking cock sprang out. “Wrap your hand around it and start sucking.”

He licked tentatively at first. I grabbed his head and pushed deeper, talking dirty the whole time. After a few minutes, I pulled him off, had him get on the bed, and spread his legs. I sucked him until he hardened, then worked my way to his ass. Using plenty of lube and fingers, I opened him up. Then I pushed his legs back and entered him.

Karl gasped in pain, but I didn’t stop. I fucked him steadily for about fifteen minutes before unloading deep inside him. Afterward, I told him we should get back upstairs for dinner.

Upstairs, the women were chatting with wine. Tammy asked where we had been. I just smiled and headed to the barbecue. She followed with the ribs. All I said was, “I know what you and Karl were doing, and you know our agreement.” She knew exactly what that meant.

After dinner, we had a couple of beers and went to bed. The next morning, Karl was quiet and subdued. Sharon said they had decided to head home early instead of staying another day.

I suspect Sharon figured out what happened, because a few months later, she called to say they had broken up and Karl had moved back to North Dakota.

That was the last time I ever heard from her.