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A Recollection

two lesbians making love to me, a former lesbian, as my male lover looks on
“A Recollection” by E. Land 

Author’s Note: This is a true story about an experience that some may call “a man’s ultimate fantasy.” It involved my lover and yours truly. Everyone romantically involved should have a night like the one I am about to describe. It happened because of his desire to watch a woman sexually arouse me. Of course, we know this male wish is nothing new; almost every erotic magazine, website, and blog addresses this dream of theirs. Nor is it news that their women resist living it out for them. So, being typical in that respect, it took some doing on my part to change my mind. But change I did. Delightfully, when the evening arrived, many nice things took place apart from the expected.

By way of brief introduction, we are in our early fifties, but do not let that keep you from reading on; neither of us are drooping middle-agers or “dead-bed.” Because we eat wisely, exercise, and have good genes, people often mistake us for being ten or fifteen years younger. Frankly, if you want my opinion, even stark naked we look good; I have the feminine curves and he has the masculine equipment – each of us proportioned well enough to be likely considered a very good looking couple in a nudist colony. I am a brunette all over, though currently the hair my public sees is tinted lighter. He is a graying blonde. Probably, our natural hair colors are what they are because my ancestors are from Eastern Europe and his are from Scandinavia.

We love each other and are committed for life. But our career obligations keep us from living together. In fact, we live a great distance apart. Another background fact is that he is still married, though he left his wife a year before we began to date. Divorce isn’t a consideration right now and so I accept the life we lead. As for me, I was once a lesbian. For years, an older bi-sexual divorced woman was my lover – and I stayed with her until the day she died. 

 Should you be interested, some of the details of my alternate life style and portions of my growing experiences in the straight world, besides the one being shared here, will come later in stories I expect to write.

Part I – Background and the Request

The long-distance relationship between my man and me has been a beautiful, evolving, and enduring one. Even with the shortcomings of a coast to coast romance, restrictions caused by his entangling family situation, and our business demands, we have the greatest times as a couple. Besides craving each other physically, we think alike about all sorts of things – from the significant to the mundane. Although we both are outgoing, we love having conversations and drinks by ourselves, enjoy dining out alone, and rest in the knowledge that we want to be at each other’s side as often as we can. We laugh often and entertain ourselves without even trying. When we do meet others, they invariably tell us that we radiate so much mutual enjoyment that they like being around us.

I am deeply in love with this man, not only for the reasons I just gave you and because he absolutely adores me, but for several other qualities of his. Not the least of which is that he possesses a strong feminine side. That is, he is very sensitive to the feelings of others. I think he understands women more than most men I have met; I know he understands me. He is also a stickler for personal cleanliness; I call him “my pristine man.” I like that quality in any person. Admittedly, I am no expert about the male population, given my sexual proclivities of the past, but I know enough to realize that these attributes of his are rare among men.

Furthermore, he is special because he was non-judgmental about my background when I finally revealed my way of life. Nor did he tease me when he also learned my hymen was still intact. Yes, though unaware of it at the time, he had come upon a virgin in her 30s as it relates to men. Actually, he was thrilled and told me that every man is when discovering his lady lover is brand new. I suppose I knew this, nonetheless, I loved his “live and let live” thinking.

Staying away from men sexually began when I was in my late teens. I played with the boys physically when in high school, but it never really went beyond serious “petting.” In the heat of the moment, I remember a time when one boy’s penis got an inch or so into me before I pushed him away, but that was the exception. My mother had put the fear of God in me when she said I could easily get pregnant playing around with boys – and then added that those things they have can be unclean. But, my mother’s cautions weren’t the only reasons I decided to stay away from boys for sex. I was, at the same time, beginning to realize that girls were sexually attractive. So when I was approached by a senior in my first year of college, I decided to let it happen. I loved her caresses – immensely. And so boys were out. Neither was masturbation in the picture very often either. Not when my new lover and the lovers that followed were so available.

Despite my gay orientation, however, I enjoyed being with the opposite sex. A few of them became friends. But always they remained platonic relationships. Until this man of mine entered my life some fifteen years later, never did I desire a male to “take my cherry,” as the saying goes.

Today, I have more men friends than women friends. Several who make me feel good as a woman are dinner and brunch dates. I go out with other men because my man does not want me to be a social hermit between our get-togethers. He trusts me, as I trust him. But, quite candidly, there are times when they try to entice me into taking off my panties. As complimentary as this is, I will not. These men know I am in a serious relationship with someone from out of town. However, I do permit them to kiss me in more than just a friendly way when saying hello or goodbye. And, I don’t always brush aside their hands when, in our embrace, they fondle the sides of my breasts a few times. There is no harm done if these things give them some sensual enjoyment. It is the least I can do in return for the pleasure of their company.

Some men I met back as a gay woman were played with as sex toys. For instance, my lovers and I often had fun holding and pulling and squeezing penises and testicles when at a party or a place where other gays congregated. They were guys we hardly knew or had just met. In our 20s, we thought life was made to explore and experiment. Equally pleasurable was watching gay and straight men – casual acquaintances at best - drop their pants and stand in front of us masturbating in a secluded part of a club or in a living room. It aroused us (which benefited our love making later on) to watch their penis grow stiff and their sperm shoot out into the tissues that one of us would be holding.

Of course, now I would not touch anyone’s genitals or watch a man climax unless my own man was with me. Enamored by the male sex package, I have envisioned a fantasy when I could visit an upscale private sex club. With him next to me, and both of us unclothed, I want to watch a trio of naked young studs masturbating in front of us until each cum. If some of their sperm hits my naked body because of the force of their unusually strong spurts, I wouldn’t be disappointed. It would enhance the realization that I am the object of their arousal – always good for the female ego, providing it goes no farther than I want. Sex to the maximum with a male other than my lover doesn’t interest me; I am a one-man woman.

At the same time these guys are doing their thing, I want to stroke the penis of another off to the side. I would love to feel his shaft grow in my hand and have him shoot out onto my breasts. And then, if my man would indulge me, I would like to help these four men dry off their softened manhood with a washcloth as an extra treat. All this happening with no strings attached. Exciting! Afterwards, I would like to shower and then go to bed with my man in one of the club’s private bedrooms, where all sorts of “toys” were available for us to try out on each other.

Another tantalizing fantasy for me is to have a set of male genitals hanging between my legs for a week or so. What a workout they would get!

There are many more sexual fantasies swirling around in my head. I hope we can act upon some of them in the next few years. If at all possible, I know he wants to fulfill mine and I want to fulfill his.

My man says no one could ever guess that I have such wild amorous thoughts, claiming my public persona is as a well-educated female, a prosperous business woman, and a proper and well-dressed lady. I am each of those, but not when aroused. Such images and civilities go out the window when I am in heat. He knows me as a very lusty lady when opportunities for exciting sex present themselves.

Sometimes, I manufacture sexual situations – harmless things. For instance, most every day I engage in crotch-watching. I discreetly look to see if there is a bulge in a man’s pants. If there is one, I wonder what his “stuff” looks and feels like. I am on the prowl when shopping, walking down the street, at parties, restaurants – everywhere. It is a pastime that helps a little to feed my exceptionally strong libido. But, never do I attempt to take it another step, even though a man’s penis and testicles are more important to me now than a vagina.

Back in my lesbian days, as I have said, vaginas were my thing. Though, “eating” them was hardly ever done with much enthusiasm. You see, I was in the gay community more to receive orgasms than to give them to others, which is uncommon among such women. I did, of course, have to sexually please my partners. Though, rarely did I do so with the same degree of enjoyment I felt when a woman was focused on my erogenous zones. Most of the time, I caressed their bodies and sex sensitive spots with my mouth and tongue and fingers only because of the extreme pleasure these women afforded me.

However, that was then and this is the present. Now, my man’s genitals are in my mouth whenever possible during our lovemaking – and at other times, as well. Impulsively, I occasionally interrupt what we are doing – reading, walking in a deserted area, or some such ordinary thing. I will unzip his fly, reach under his swim trunks, or pull down his elastic-waist jogging pants, to lovingly “abuse’ those things that make my heart beat faster.

This marvelous relationship of ours started at a time when I was beginning to have serious second thoughts about my gay life. I can say that I truly loved the woman I last lived with; my partner was so talented in business and strong and exciting in her approach to life. We went all over the world at vacation times and made love passionately wherever we went. Her breasts were small and her vagina was not all that special, but god, could she make me cum! Her hands and mouth were all over me.

Incidentally, when I say we lived together I do not mean that in the usual sense. I had a co-op in the city of Philadelphia and she had a home about an hour and a half away in New Jersey, where she operated her design company. I spent every weekend there; she would come into the city for business during the week and stay with me a couple of nights. This arrangement suited us fine; we liked our private times. Anyway, a few years before she died, I began to question my life style. I thought, “My lover is much older than me; could I continue this way with other women after she is gone?” Then along comes this co-worker, who gratefully helped me make the decision to move into the straight world.

Executives in an international stock brokerage firm, we worked at the home office in Philadelphia on common projects. In the course of our work, we began to enjoy the company of each other. That chemistry blossomed into a friendship and lunch and dinner dates. The almost inevitable affair followed and, in our case, it led to a terrific romance and everlasting bond. In the early days I was still involved in an active love life with my paramour. I guess you could say I was secretly bi-sexual while this romance with him was developing.

The first time we were really intimate was the first time I wanted a man to cum inside of me. The prospect of his stiffened appendage going in and out of the apex of my womanhood was now enormously exciting. My understanding of menstrual cycles eased away pregnancy concerns, especially since this day was a “safe day.” We had been “making out” on the couch in my living room and taken off each other’s clothes. I was new at this male-female game, but since I am a quick learner, he was stiff from what I was instinctively doing. As for me, I was practically climbing the walls with anticipation. He stood up and we moved to my bed, where I fell on it splayed out naked waiting for this special moment to begin. I was both apprehensive and eager. But instead of mounting me, he went “down” on me. I was startled, but the experience of the first man’s lips and tongue kissing and licking my clitoris and labia folds was, nevertheless, divine. “My god,” I thought, “this man is as good as anyone I have ever had!” Later, I decided that he was much better. His luscious hard penis and his art of lovemaking put him at the head of the class. He has said to me more than once, “I please you only because your aggressiveness and willingness encourage me to try things that my past lovers would not allow.”

He “deflowered” me at my next “safe period.” The feeling of his shaft rubbing the tight insides of my unused-by-men vagina was fabulous. This was new and glorious for me! The joyous experience of sperm shooting into me for the very first time made me want this to go on forever. I climaxed, and then climaxed again. I wanted more.

Next morning, the tear of my hymen wouldn’t stop bleeding, so I had to go to the hospital emergency room. Despite my embarrassment of being cauterized for this reason at my age, I felt the previous evening was worth it.

My appetite for this very self-assured man to spawn my orgasms grew with a roar during the next few weeks. With his hands and mouth, and a condom on his shaft when needed, he began to do and teach things to me that my lesbian lovers never did. Months later, we decided that we were meeting each other’s deepest sexual needs. He found me an adventurer and a willing woman. I found him a man of unlimited imagination and sensuality.

It surprised me greatly to hear that despite not having serious experiences sexually loving men, I excited him more than any woman he has ever enjoyed. He told me so, and then added: “You know exactly what turns me on. You have a man’s mind in a woman’s body.” His talent regarding me was and is identical. Since then, we have come to know each other’s “hot-buttons.” Touching and penetrating everywhere on our bodies, then and now, is okay as we give and take our pleasures. There is nothing out of bounds between us. Incidentally, we have never had a “quickie” as a consequence; our lovemaking extends to hours, not minutes.

You will likely remember that I did not masturbate all that much as a lesbian. As I said, the women I knew usually satisfied me so that I seldom needed to play with myself. Although I must admit that I liked – and still like - touching my vagina when showering or going to sleep. Those times I “did” myself were really not all that important to me. But when my man was transferred about five years ago to San Francisco to head up the western operation, frequent masturbation became an important part of our sex life.

I have always needed to cum often. Typically, my last girl partner and I had three love sessions a day every weekend – wake-up time, mid-afternoon, and at night before going to sleep! In between, on those weekends, I could hardly wait for the next one. So orgasms were, and are, very important to me. Since he was now away from me more often than not, we resorted to telephone sex. It continues to help both of us keep connected. Sometimes we masturbate by phone two or more times a week. In between, I masturbate by myself, with the occasional help of photos I took showing his erect and thick penis bending upward in such an appealing way. I measured it once and it is about 7 inches long and almost 3 inches in circumference. Not humongous by some standards, but very satisfactory for me – oh yes, indeed!

At times, his pictures prepare me for our telephone appointments. We dub them “tele-orgasms” or “tele-treats.” In case you are interested, I have no problem being aroused this way; I cum easily because of his sexy talk. Helping me, if necessary, is a vibrator (we call it a “missile”). If that is not available because I am away on a business trip, then I improvise. My wide toothbrush handle (cleaned off of course) or a recently purchased and thoroughly washed carrot is substituted. Because the homemade sex tools are seldom used, when they are, each puts a little extra spice into my moments of phone lovemaking and solo efforts, too.

As you can imagine, it is not easy for my man and me to meet as often as we want. We’ve been challenged by the fact that I live near the Atlantic Ocean and he by the Pacific Ocean. You may ask, “Why do you bother with a long distance romance? When you do get together it probably goes no further that the proverbial ‘roll in the hay.’” In response, I say that our relationship has grown way beyond the bed; we are “soul mates.” Although, I must admit getting “laid” by this man is a highpoint in my life.

For the record, we do many intimate things besides copulating. They may seem silly to you, but, they bring us closer and only incidentally act as aphrodisiacs. One example is that when we are together, we often shower at the same time. Our privates are never as clean as when we tend to each other. Another is holding his penis and testicles (my sister likes to call them “the unit.”) as he “whizzles” - sometimes I then tissue off any vestiges. This happens almost anywhere; in parks, back alleys and, of course, in the bathroom. He loves to help me as I do the same. I have to squat when I am outside, so at times it’s a little awkward, but regardless of where I whizzle, he never misses a chance to gently wipe dry the lips of my vagina. Talk about closeness - delicious!

We share so many things. Apart or together, I let him know when I have female issues. He tells me about his male concerns. He knows, for instance, when I am upset about a discomfort in my vagina or a suspected lump in a breast. Or when he says something that makes my vagina contract or moisten. He knew about the hot flashes and periods before I had my hysterectomy. To this day, he knows the details of my gynecologist visits, wanting me to be very explicit - and so I am. I tell him whenever I insert the special cream in my vagina that my doctor gave me, which prevents dryness and keeps it soft for him. I know as much about my man as he does about his woman.

I know, for example, when his testicles ache from prolonged sexual arousal because our foreplay has been especially extensive, or he has taken me several times, or he masturbates too frequently in a short time frame when I am unavailable. But this condition, known as “blue balls” in street vernacular, can also be caused by sexual stimulation that does not result in orgasm and ejaculation. Nature is demanding the sperm in his testicles be released, but they are not, for whatever reason. I also know when he has to “free” his manliness from a cramped position in his pants as we enter a public room. I usually shield him as he fixes himself. By the way, I know that his penis hangs down to his right normally and that his scrotum shrinks when he is cold or about to cum. There are so many areas that we feel free to act upon or talk about! Some of them are so extremely personal that I will not share them with anyone.

He loves to fantasize sexually about me or us when we are apart. What I like about that is he always relates them to me afterwards – ether by phone or when we are together. Candidly, many of his fantasy stories turn me on. I am easily aroused by his very descriptive sexual scenarios. He even thinks them up when we are together. He has an amazingly fertile and creative mind for such things, and, frequently, as the mood strikes, will compose a fascinating story in our bed, telling it to me as it comes to his sensual mind. It’s been a titillating part of our foreplay at times.

As I mentioned at the start of this story, a recurring fantasy of his has been to watch a woman make love to me. Actually, as you probably know, sex therapists say that he is not alone; many men have this fantasy. An article in a recent Cosmopolitan Magazine said that it could be because they want to be a sight-seer once in a while, not always a co-star. They want to concentrate on looking at their woman being stirred up by a person who poses no threat to their male sexuality. On the contrary, they hope this other woman’s nudity and actions would help stimulate them to masturbate and cum, thereby doubling their pleasure, if you will.

The magazine article went on to say that as they stroke themselves, these men want to watch their woman’s face take on the unique to sex look that shows raw hunger, expectancy, and gratification, all at the same time. A look that would say if it could talk: “Give me a little more of you and then I am going to burst forth with the mother of all ecstasies that I so crave.” They want to see their woman’s naked body flush with arousal, when breasts are swelling, nipples are erect, hips are squirming, and legs are apart exposing the puffed wet folds of their vagina. They want to hear their moans for more penetrations and caresses. When the explosions finally occur, there is no question in my mind that they are exhilarating sights and sounds for such men. Especially, if at about the same time, they have climaxed by their own hand or within a few moments anticipate climbing onto their satiated, but still keyed up woman.

Before I knew about this longing of his, he would ask me occasionally to explain what went on with my lovers, especially the one woman who bedded me during the final years of my lesbian life. I kept telling him that I am not very good at remembering such details. Not because I am reluctant; as I said, we have no secrets. What hinders my recollections, you may recall, is that my primary goal as a gay woman was to have an orgasm, not provide one. The foreplay was essential and certainly pleasurable, but secondary for me. Orgasms were the overriding aim.

Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t blocked these former lovers out of my mind. I can still name each one, but I cannot provide a description of their nakedness or our sex activities to any great degree. I can still remember that their breasts were soft, their arms and legs so smooth, and their behind nice and shapely. But I cannot describe their vagina or anus to that extent. Particularly since going down on them wasn’t normally what I liked doing. I enjoyed fingering and holding their bodies. Bringing my mouth down to caress their vagina and anus was another matter. They were not aware of how I felt because I never failed to reciprocate for what they did to me. I felt an obligation to do so - although not always. On occasion, I looked forward to mouthing their “privates” in gratitude for something they did or said. I suppose they sensed the difference, because their screams were usually louder. My last lover was the exception; I always pleased her in the fullest sense. Many times she said to me: “You are my dream affair!”

I said to him that most often each of my lovers began “doing” me first, and then we would end up by me “doing” her. But, every intimate advance we took toward our climaxes had been forgotten. I remembered that we usually made love on a bed, with her and me on our back alternately, though regularly we 6-9d each other. Providing step by step descriptions of tongue and finger doings or the details to the use of a strap-on and large or small missiles – one of them flexible and double-headed - well, that was out of reach. The specifics of what my lovers did to me and what I did to them were too vague in my memory bank.

My man reacted like most males when he heard my excuses. He tried to convince me he would love me just as much, and maybe a little more, if I would let a female make love to me in front of him, so he could, at last, learn a little more about the art of making love to a woman.

As you can imagine, I saw through that charade of male thought. But since I have some compassion about this part of the masculine psyche, and I have a strong desire to please him, I eventually opened up to the possibility. I decided under the right circumstances a woman could take me in front of him, even though such lovemaking no longer interested me. He had seen to that with an artistry that has pleasured me in ways I never experienced with gay women - it makes my vagina quiver with delight at the memories of our sex times. So I began to mull over ways for his fantasy to be fulfilled and for my resistance to go away. I needed to think seriously about this.

Part II – Arrangements

Three or four months later after arriving home from a particularly lovely time in San Francisco with my man, I decided to bite the bullet. I called Patricia from my Philadelphia apartment. We had lived together in New York City for a couple of years after college. Lovers from school, we wanted to continue the relationship as long as possible. Though she was cute, and very willing to bring me to an orgasm any time I wanted one, our day-to-day interests were changing and so my attraction to her waned. When I met another more exciting woman, we amicably parted ways.

I thought of calling Pat because she visited me not long before that trip to the west coast. We had not seen each other for many years, until she called me out of the blue from her place in Boston to invite me to lunch. She expected to be in Philadelphia in the near future and for old times sake wanted to get together. When we met, I saw she bordered on being overweight. But, our luncheon was pleasant and interesting. I told her some of my history and she told me some of hers, including the fact that she was still a lesbian. Since we had such a nice time, I decided to pick up the phone to find out if she knew a gay woman to help me act out my lover’s fantasy. Maybe, I thought, she knew someone who was pretty, trustworthy, and willing.

Pat was happy I called, and very responsive to my request. I asked, “Since I want to please my lover, do you know an attractive gay woman younger than us who would be willing to come to my hotel room the next time we are in Boston to make love to me in front of him?” She thought she did.

After I hung up the phone I had more reservations. I wondered if I could still respond sexually to a woman. I had never faked an orgasm in my life and I was not about to start now. Could I get past that hurdle? I also found the whole idea of a naked woman on top of my naked body or between my opened legs a little unsettling. I had left that world, and my fear was that acting out this fantasy for my man could reawaken my desire for women. I doubted this would happen, but… I also knew I was not an exhibitionist – not by any measure.

How best to arrange for my man’s fantasy to take place and concern over these personal fears occupied my mind for a few days, but when I got busy they went away. They came back a month or so later at my country home in New Jersey where I spend weekends. I received a telephone call from a very pleasant sounding woman. She told me her name was Joan and explained that a mutual friend of ours had told her about my wishes. She said, “Pat described your past relationship with her and your current situation. I understand and, if you would like, I am willing to meet with you and your lover for a night. In fact, I must admit that it sounds exciting.” I took her telephone number and promised to call when I knew we would be in Boston.

Now I was really nervous! But the wheels were in motion – she did sound very nice - and so I decided to go ahead. But these arrangements would stay secret until the last minute. Besides the fears already mentioned, I still was not sure that I could allow a perfect stranger – especially a woman - to touch me so intimately. Never in my adult life – straight or as a lesbian - have I considered being a man’s or a woman’s “one night stand” treat. That might be okay for some women, but not for me.

About two weeks later, I learned that Marilyn Maye, one of our favorite saloon singers, was appearing at a club in Boston. I called him and we decided to go to her show. My next call was to Pat’s friend. She thought she would be available, but asked me to call her when we arrived. He flew into Newark airport from San Francisco and I met him in my car and we drove up to Boston.

The plan was to stay there for three nights. Shortly after we registered at the hotel, I surreptitiously called the woman. She told me that she could be with us the following night. With trepidation, I gave her the hotel address and room number.

That first evening in Boston we went to the early show. It was a great performance with great ambiance and great food. Later that night the sex was perfect and unusually long-lasting. There were oodles of precious moments as we fondled and explored each other. I could eat up that man; that is, if he did not devour me beforehand. At the risk of sounding egotistical, we are hot in bed.

The second night in Boston we went to a romantic place for dinner at a northern-style Italian place (light sauces) - our favorite food. When the dinner ended, I feigned tiredness and said I needed an early night. So we went back to the hotel. As we were returning, new misgivings arose. “What am I doing?” I thought to myself. But there was no stopping, unless I ended it when she knocked on the hotel room door.

The knock came before we had a chance to undress. I stood transfixed and did nothing, even though my brain was telling me, “You need more time before this happens!” He opened the door and standing in front of him was a beautiful and elegantly dressed woman. Next to her was another attractive woman – almost a girl. My man looked puzzled. I went into action and invited them in. Crazy!

As they entered, I turned to him and said, “Tonight, my darling, you are going to have your sexual fantasy about me fulfilled.” His jaw dropped. I showed a calm that belied my anxiety. Again I thought, “What have I let myself in for – and why have two women showed up?”

We sat down in the parlor of our suite and I asked him to make us all a drink from the bar. As he was doing this, I learned the older woman was Joan and her friend’s name was Sandra. Joan insisted that she bring my drink to me. To say that I was uncomfortable is an understatement. However, I shook my head clear and then explained to my man that Joan was a friend of one of my former lovers. I turned and asked Joan why she brought Sandra. She replied, “She is my lover and is here to add to the night’s pleasure.”

When we finished our drinks, the two women stood up and Joan beckoned me to do the same. When I did, she told me she was going to undress me. I closed my eyes and, after a brief intake of air, I nodded agreement. She proceeded to remove from my 5’3” and 125 pound frame the short-sleeved black cotton sweater I wore, jiggling my bare breasts as she did. I try not to wear a bra when I go out to dinner with him. He loves knowing they are free; and sometimes when I am not wearing panties either – just stockings that stay up by themselves - his penis oozes pre-cum. If this happens, I will open his fly under the table and wipe him dry with my napkin so no stain will appear on his pants at the crotch. I am so thoughtful! But I am wandering.

Joan then unzipped my pleated black skirt and told me to step out of it. I did, and now I am standing in my high heels with pantyhose still in place - but not for long. She carefully slid them down and off. Now naked, except for my pearl necklace and earrings and other jewelry, she and Sandra were gazing at my body. I was aware that my breasts and dark brown pubic hair, along with my behind, seemed to be their center of attention. After I had been turned around several times, Joan reached down and slid her hand over my vagina. Before I could react, she reached around and squeezed the cheeks of my behind. I felt a little like a piece of meat and almost ended the evening’s event at that moment. Sensing this, Joan stopped and began folding my clothes as if to apologize. Glancing over at him, I saw him sitting there seemingly unmoved by my obvious peevishness. He seemed spellbound by this woman’s process of getting me naked and ready. I simmered down because, after all, this was his night, not mine

Suddenly, my attention shifted to Sandra. She had taken off her clothes. Her lithe body appeared not to have a wrinkle anywhere. Her skin was unblemished. I saw she was a natural blonde by her pubic hair, which had been shaped into a narrow vertical strip above her vagina. I suppose young women like being arty when they change the shape of their hair triangle down there. I am aware that many younger women shave off all of it, but this is not my thing. I think a woman’s triangle is usually a pretty sight and, in my situation, my man would be unhappy if I shaved. He likes to glide his tongue all through it.

My lover was now looking at two naked women. One, girlish in figure – that was her – and another, womanly shaped - that was me. My bra size is a 38C so my breasts are not small – my man says they are firm and perfect. Incidentally, not so long ago one of my dinner dates took me to an “in” night spot for an after dinner drink with some friends he knew. I was introduced to a gay doctor who told me that I had a great “rack.” He was using slang to describe his assessment of the outline of my breasts and cleavage tastefully displayed in the partially opened sweater I wore. Said so sweetly, I wasn’t offended.

This night of the fantasy, however, these two women not only saw the outline of my “rack,” but also the small nipples and light areolas on the front of my rounded breasts. They saw that my body was firm all over and my pubic hair fairly full and nicely shaped. If I must say so myself I looked very good for a woman of any age. They saw au natural my small waist and hips, nicely shaped legs and tight “buns.” The jewelry, I think, added to my look. Sandra, on the other hand, had small breasts – probably between a 32A and a 32B cup - with relatively normal size nipples. Because of the shaving, her vagina was prominently displayed. Overall, it was nice looking, but the clitoris was a little too large, if you ask me. Still, I thought her body and face were quite pretty.

It had been some time since I looked closely at a naked woman, let alone caress one. I see women at the gym where I work out strip down in the locker room, but never do I give them more than a passing glance. But with Sandra, I appraised her looks. I suppose some straight man or gay woman would find her appetizing. However, if I was still doing the gay thing, she would not be my type; too dainty looking. In retrospect, I realized that Sandra was mainly company for Joan. It was Joan and me who were to be the main players in my man’s fantasy. Though I must tell you now that Sandra added a little zing to what happened later – and I did taste her on impulse.

Sandra asked me to follow her into the bathroom to freshen me with a shower. She turned on the water and I took off my jewelry. After checking the temperature, we entered and got wet. Sandra lathered me from the neck, over and around my breasts, up and down the back and front of my torso - apparently careful to avoid soap entering my vagina – then finishing at my feet. Pushing my legs apart, she took the extension shower head off the hook and placed it at my vagina, forcing water to enter. The pressure of the water felt pleasant on my clitoris. Right there and then, I decided to buy and have installed such a showerhead. Holding on to her shoulders to keep from slipping, her skin felt baby soft. She then soaped herself and finished by rinsing out her own opening with the showerhead. She turned me around and bent my body forward. As I placed my hands on the shower wall, Sandra washed my behind with her soapy hands. Her finger went in and out of my anus more than a few times. I watched her do the same thing to herself. Now we were both thoroughly clean. With the water off, Sandra dried both of us, paying particular attention to fluffing up my pubic hair. She spread my cheeks and carefully dried the crack of my behind. A light powdering of some of my body parts followed. I was feeling more comfortable about things.

Sandra led me back into the bedroom carrying another soapy washcloth and dry towel. There was my man and Joan standing next to each other at the foot of our bed without wearing a stitch of clothing. I stiffened - in surprise - until Joan said, “Relax, nothing happened between us. I just wanted us to be ready for you. Besides, his uncircumcised cock is so small that if it were an inch less it would be a hole.” I bristled at her remark and protested, “Small as it is at times, when I arouse him it gets as big and thick as I want it to be; perfect to fit into what I have.”

I thought of the many mornings of the past when I awoke and reached over to touch the genitals of my sleeping man. Sometimes I had to pull them out from between his legs. Wherever they lay, I knew his penis would be the size of a small child’s. No matter, my initial movements always awaken him and his penis will begin to swell. Within minutes his maleness is stiff and big and ready. For a woman, this has to be one of the great joys of sex. It certainly is for me, especially because of what usually comes next. Those yummy moments of stroking his shaft to hardness are followed by sucking it to taste his pre-cum, and then having his mouth on my nipples before I open my legs and accept his throbbing manhood - all incomparable foreplays of pleasure to bring us to our orgasms. Though Joan was wrong to impugn his ability to satisfy a woman, her comments actually mollified me. I forgot about being upset by what they had done without me overseeing them get naked.

My man and I sat down on the bedside chairs as Sandra told Joan to spread her legs. “Open up so I can wash the insides of your cunt,” she said. When done, Sandra turned her around and bent her forward. She asked my man, “Please spread Joan’s cheeks apart so I can wash her back hole.” He looked at me for permission. There were no rules in place, so I nodded that it was okay. My acquiescence surprised me as I quietly watched him open her behind and hold it so until Sandra finished. I could not help notice the roundness of Joan’s behind and the fullness of her nicely nippled breasts as they hung from her bent body. “She is one attractive woman,” I said to myself.

Joan looked almost as good as my lover says I look. I am sure her loveliness did not escape him. My guess is that her breasts would fit comfortably into a 36B bra, her stomach had that small rise which enhanced her femininity; and her waist and hips were as narrow as mine. Her legs were not bad either. I noticed her pubic hair was a light brown and because she was probably in her late 30s, her “triangle” was fuller than mine. So much so that when I peered more closely at it, I could not see the vertical entrance to her vagina. All I saw was her “bush,” as some men describe our pubic hair.

Finished with Joan, Sandra moved to my man. Holding his testicles in one hand, she said to him, “I am going to stroke your cock a few times to make it grow a little so I can make certain it is clean as can be.” With his genitals so engaged and with what had been going on, including his part with the cheek business, I saw that she had no problem thickening and lengthening him. Pulling back his foreskin, she used the wash cloth to carefully wipe off the head before moving to his testicles and then to his behind. And then she dried him. My, we were all now so sparkling clean!

Part III - Special Moments

Joan waved me over to her. She exuded confidence. I like that quality in people. Nonetheless, I hesitated and she sensed my continued discomfort. She smiled and assured me that this evening would be a good experience for everyone in the room. Facing me, she began to massage my body with lemon-scented oil, starting with my neck and then moving onto my shoulders and arms. No one had ever done this while I was standing, and soon that vertical position brought on sensual feelings. As she did, I watched her breasts moving in concert with her hands. They were pretty things. Her skill made it feel like a professional massage – which I love getting. It felt so good! “Could all this lead to an orgasm?” I wondered. At this point in time I felt it was too soon to know.

She then went to my breasts and oiled each one. Her pressured movements made my little nipples stand up. Her hands felt so nice on them. She commented, “These breasts of yours are so round and firm.” I replied, “My lover thinks so too.” I knew they were not as close to the chest as when I was in my 20s and 30s - they hang a little more now. However, he loves them that way because he is able to take them more fully into his hands. He says he can better caress and gently pull on them than when they were tighter and slightly smaller. He enjoys drawing each breast away from my body to suck on the nipple. Joan took each one the same way, mouthing my left nipple for some moments before moving to the other one. One of her breasts kept brushing against my stomach; it was an erotic feeling. Ripples of pleasure went through me. I was now beginning to get into what was happening, particularly when I knew all this was for my man.

Joan knelt down and spread oil on my stomach. I had to grab hold of the mattress behind me for support as her hands sensually and firmly kneaded this part of my body. Otherwise, I would have fallen backwards onto the bed from the pressure and I was not ready for that yet. She put her tongue in my navel, one of my erogenous zones, and then licked two more - my abdomen and the top part of my pubic hair. It was so pleasant that I began to get more into the program – or so I hoped now. Joan took her hands and pushed my legs farther apart. I watched her pour more oil into her hands to start massaging my legs.

Beginning at my feet, she moved upward with one hand on each leg. When she got to where they joined my torso she seemed to take pains not to touch my pubic hair or anything within it. What she was doing, however, was arousing me. No question about that! Actually, I was sort of disappointed she hadn’t touched my entrance because her handiwork was exquisite. It had been years since I felt feminine hands down there.

Joan then said, “Turn around so I can massage your lovely looking back.” She took long up and down strokes from the shoulders to the top of the cheeks of my behind. Then she began to do the same across my back from the neck down to across my behind. I heard her say to my man: “Come here and open her cheeks so I can oil her asshole.” He did, and as my cheeks were pulled apart, I realized that some of my pubic hair was no doubt peeking out between my legs – he loves that look. When she was finished, he sat back down. I felt well-oiled and, to my relief, everything was starting to really please me.

I looked over to where he was sitting. At first, I could not tell if he was aroused, but it would have surprised me if he was not. After all, he had just participated in the early part of his fantasy. He was also watching me in the nude being fondled every which way by an unfamiliar naked woman, as another unfamiliar naked woman stood aside observing all that was happening. Then I saw him moving his hands in his lap. Since he too was without any clothing it made me feel better knowing that he was reacting normally and positively.

“Bend over as far as you can so your ass is up in the air and facing me,” she said. I leaned over without bending my knees and held on to my ankles. No doubt my anus and the wiggly folds appearing from within the center of my pubic hair were fully exposed to the three of them. So was the area in which my pubic hair grew, which, according to my last gay lover and my man, goes out onto the top my legs and down and under onto the beginning of my cheeks, including two or three short strands around my back hole. Oh well, have a good look,” I thought.

She poured the body oil into the opened crack and I felt it trickle down to my anus. At that moment she stopped the oil and pushed some of it into me with one of her fingers. Bit by bit she went in further. She pulled out and carefully put two fingers in, moving them around until I felt it widen. My vagina quivered. Things were continuing to take place inside of me and I was feeling happy for my man. I was also glad for the physical shape I was in as these two women looked at and touched me. My man says I should be very proud of my body.

Joan gestured that I get up onto the bed and lay on my back with my legs wide apart. I was now ready to do this. Talk about being exposed! She said, “Please, open up your cunt so I can see how wet you are in there.” Despite my natural reticence to display myself in any fashion, without hesitation I took my hands and pulled my vagina apart as far as I could! She peered into it and smiled. She said: “You’re beginning to come around.” Then she again called my man over. She told him, “Slide your finger in her and tell me if you agree. He did and nodded in agreement. Next, she said to me: “Grab hold of his stiff cock and start jerking him off!” I did not realize that he would be such an active participant, but with joy I grabbed it. The next thing I knew, Sandra came and asked me if I would like her to caress my breasts. Again, without hesitation I helped the fantasy move along. She sat on my stomach facing me. Promptly, she began to slowly and sensually massage my breasts. Every moment or so she would lean over and suck a nipple. Oh yes, Joan sure had an extensive plan to please my lover!

I lost sight of her at this point. Get the picture: I am stroking my man’s hard shaft. Sandra is sitting on my stomach and moving my breasts. I could not see Joan, but I feel this woman whom I had never met before, licking my inner thighs and getting closer and closer to my love center. Her hands push my legs further apart. She is so sensual. Suddenly, her tongue begins to flicker my pubic hair, circling close to my vagina that I now know is getting wetter. I feel a flick or two of her tongue as it went along side the outer lips of my entrance. Lo and behold, more joyful happenings are going on down there in that department!

Sandra continues to run her fingers around my breasts. The effect on my nipples is amazing; I had never seen them so erect! She places both her palms directly over my nipples, with her fingers spread apart. Then slowly Sandra lifts her hands so that her fingers move over the nipples. On reaching each one her thumbs, index and middle fingers close around the base and gently draw them out. She squeezes gently, first one and then the other - again and again. It is so lovely to feel! I am thinking: “Maybe these women can bring me to an orgasm!”

In the meantime, Joan’s tongue is getting very intentional in her efforts to arouse me. She glides her tongue along side the outer folds of my swollen womanhood. It is so nicely sensitive there. She also places a hand under my behind and begins to feather the cluster of my back hole. I involuntarily move my hips as she moves about with her tongue and fingers. I continue to pull on my man’s hardness and feel the softness of its skin as I stroke him. My hand is in heaven, my breasts are in heaven, and the areas around my vagina and anus are in heaven. All I needed was her tongue and finger in those openings and all of me would be in heaven! So that is the picture!!

My heart jumped when Joan found the wetness of my opening crevice with her lips and tongue going up one side and the other; all with great passion. She took the thumb of one hand and rubbed my clitoris as the index finger of the other hand slipped inside my back hole. The combination of mouth lips to vaginal lips, clitoris caresses, stimulation of my anus, and a hard-on in my hand, was pushing away all my reservations. I wanted to cum!!

"Please," I whispered, as their tongues lapped my vagina and breasts, “Do not stop.” I lifted myself up a little to make Joan’s now stiffened tongue enter more deeply in my soaking wet opening. After a blissful time feeling her beautiful penetrations, she alternated her tongue between my crevice and clitoris. With her finger moving around in my anus at the same time, again and again she sent waves of joy through my body. I could not believe it!

Joan stopped after a while to say to me, now a highly aroused woman: “You are a beautiful sight! Your body has the look of a young woman and your cunt is encircled by just the right amount of pubic hair. Your swollen clit is so delicate looking and inviting as it sits there above what I am licking and kissing. God, but you are good to eat! Your clit and cunt are scrumptious to suck and, as I tongue your insides, your juices taste so sweet. I love it that your cunt continues to respond to my touches, and overjoyed the two of us are turning you on. I now know why Pat loved being your partner. Whether or not other men have fucked you is your business, but every man I know would salivate at your nakedness and the way you receive what I’m giving. Your responses to my lovemaking are better than I could possibly have expected.” “How lovely of her,” I thought. The next thing I knew, three of her fingers were moving in my very hungry and drenched vagina. It was an incredible sensation, and I could feel the rising of an orgasm for the very first time, as she thrust in and pulled out at a perfect pace for me.

Sandra was still working my breasts like the connoisseur she was. Oh, how she pleased them! I could see her opening and realized she was aroused by what was happening. Candidly, I was flattered that my body was probably an important cause of her excitement. In fact, these things she and Joan were doing to me had the same effect on me. Everything was all so sexy!

So many things are now going on at one time. I was reaching over and sucking my man’s lovely thickness; all the while holding onto testicles that were starting to tighten up with desire. A tongue and fingers were lapping and touching me between my legs and my breasts were being loved to death! Never had I been in a situation like this and it was almost overwhelming. This was supposed to be primarily for him. Yet, I was on a sex high never experienced before! I became completely focused with desire. My sole aim was to cum now! “Full speed ahead,” I thought.

Suddenly, I was ready. I let go of my man’s genitals. My arms spread out from my body and my opened legs strived to widen even farther. I could feel the first orgasm rising in me. I yelled to Joan, “Push in deeper!” Instead, I felt a vibrator on my clitoris. Where it came from I did not know, but the feeling was fantastic! She slid it down over my clitoris and then up and down between the lips of my vagina, which was screaming out for something or somebody to get in and go to work! A moment later, the vibrator began to do what it is supposed to do. She moved that vibrator in and out and round and round within my soaked and begging vagina. Her actions sent me over the top. I came with a force that was out of this world; the kind of orgasm that I get at special times from my man. I came again - and then once more. Incredible!

Coming off this sensational series of orgasms, I opened my eyes and looked over to see how my lover was reacting. He appeared to be transfixed in male heat as he watched what was going on. His hard and thick penis was sticking up into the air like the Empire State building as he was stroking it. I could see the head was a deep raspberry red, which meant he was extremely aroused. It looked so gorgeous.

Then Joan’s actions brought me back to her. She had pulled the vibrator out and was using her flattened tongue to lick the folds of my crevice. They were so ready for another orgasm that they seemed to part this time with a vengeance. She shoved all five of her fingers into me. Can you believe that? She moved them around so that she wasn’t far from “fisting” me! The frenzy of her movements and Sandra’s ministrations to my breasts set me off again. I yelled with joyful abandon as I came several times. I yelled my head off.

I did not count my orgasms, but there must have been more of them coming out of me at this one love session than ever before. It was out of this world marvelous!

Part IV – Ending Pleasures

After these orgasms of mine ended, Sandra got off my stomach. I saw Joan. God, here was a naked woman lying on her stomach with her head between my legs; her lips and tongue fervently loving my vagina! She was perspiring and flushed. I was so pleased and, at the same time, further aroused looking at the nice-looking dip in the middle of her backside and her breasts being squished by the pressure of the bed. Her hands reached up to my own breasts and covered my still erect nipples. I tousled her hair and thought, “Only a few months ago, this scene would have been unthinkable.”

Spread-eagled on the bed, I felt totally drained. Without question, I believed I was fulfilling my man’s fantasy – to say nothing about the unexpected gifts of my multiple orgasms and highly sensual pleasures. My breasts, falling slightly off to the sides of my chest, were still being pleasured by Joan’s slightly pressing hands. My pubic hair was wet from my juices and her saliva. My mind was filled with images of mouths and hands all over me. This vagina of mine was a little sensitive and I was also aware of my anus. Even my breasts tingled with the memory of so much intense attention from Sandra. Everything was just – well, just spectacular!

I quickly learned that this fantasy wasn’t over for my man. Joan said to me, “Flip over on your stomach, spread your legs, and push up your ass a little.” I knew this would once again show my puffed and wet labia lips in the midst of my dark colored pubic hair. I wondered if this display and these gyrations excited Joan as much as I was sure they were exciting my man – and me. I soon learned that they did – very much so. Sandra opened my behind to allow Joan to get more oil into my anus. I could feel several of her fingers expanding my back hole once again. After a minute or so, I heard her say to him, “I suggest you stop jerking off. You’ll enjoy shooting your load much more if you fuck her asshole; she is ready for you.” I could not believe my ears! I mean, this was something we had rarely done, and it was certainly much too personal to do in front of others. But I said nothing.

With his hard-on in hand, he moved to the foot of the bed and asked me to get on my elbows and knees. I did, and he pulled me down so that my lower legs and my feet were hanging over the edge. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Joan rubbing his shaft with the K-Y gel from the tube I left on the night table. When she finished – I thought she took a little too much time gelling him - he pushed his thick and stiffened shaft into me. I could feel the stretching, but he was so gentle. He went in deeper, and after five minutes or so, I felt his hardness had gone in to the hilt. His passionate thrusts caused my breasts to swing. I loved it and understood more about his increasing fervor when Joan said: “I am squeezing his balls as He pumps your ass. And Sandra is pushing her finger into his asshole.” I was reeling with joy and approval! All this was beyond belief!

Moments later, Sandra stopped “doing” him and got on at the head of the bed where she slipped her vagina under my face. My mouth could not help but touch it. She smelled extremely fresh. She was still moist! Her wriggly crevice was so soft and inviting that before I knew what I was doing I kissed it. And then I ran my tongue over the folds several times until she was moaning softly. She pushed up and I tasted her seeping sweetness. Memories of my past life flooded my mind; this girl tasted better down there than most of the women who wanted me. But I stopped when I sensed my man was about to cum.

I felt his sperm shoot into me. It is a marvelous and almost indescribable sexual feeling to receive my man’s seed in my behind. This night, his maleness seemed to get bigger as he climaxed. When spent, he rested a moment or two before he withdrew and fell along side of me. I felt pleasantly full and shivered when some of his sperm oozed out of my anal canal. Still on my knees, I groped for his softening shaft. It felt so good in my hand. With all my heart I wanted to cum the next time he and I did this. I probably could if I played with my clitoris at the same time

It was then that I realized that Sandra had slipped away and was sitting nearby furiously masturbating. She was concentrating on her clitoris. Her legs were wide apart, each one draped over an arm of the chair. Twisting and thrusting as she came; all of us watched her head go back, her stomach rise, and her crevice open wide with desire. Her moans faded away and wetness was all around her vagina when she finished.

Full of emotion from all of what I was experiencing and seeing, I turned over onto my back and said to Joan, “This has so wonderful! How can I repay you for what you’ve done?”

Gazing at me intently, she said: “Slide a couple of your fingers in me; I need to have you do that right now.” As my man watched, I put two of my fingers in my mouth to wet them - as I used to do in the old days to help ease them into a lover’s vagina. I reached over and began searching for her opening within the bushiness of her light brown hair. Upon entering, I learned she was very aroused - there had been no need to wet my fingers. It was a sopping wet and warm place. Also thinking back to her flushed face when she was ravishing my vagina, I said to myself: “Joan and Sandra have proven that my body can still get a woman excited.”

A few moments, and a couple of pleasurable moans later, Joan slowly eased away from my probing fingers. Noticing my questioning look, she said: “You could have made me cum in a heartbeat; you are a very exciting and luscious looking woman. I am so glad Pat called me. But that is not the plan. Instead, I would like both of you to watch as Sandra kisses and licks my cunt and asshole – and then I would like you to hear and see me have an orgasm or two.” I looked at him and we both nodded agreement.

We left the bed and pulled two chairs close to it so we could see them better, but not before I held and kissed her breasts; I could not help myself. “How wonderful,” I thought, “for my man to watch all of this!” The women lay down beside each other in a 6-9 position so that Joan’s thick pubic hair was even with Sandra’s face. Sandra moved her hand to find Joan’s vagina within it. I could now see that her triangle of hair was extensive. It began about four inches above her clitoris and reached over to her legs and up to her cheeks, as mine did. All of it, however, had been neatly trimmed. Mine doesn’t need trimming.

We watched as Sandra pressed her index and middle fingers between Joan’s obviously puffy and ready-to-be occupied slit. It quickly parted and we saw a very pink and glistening interior. I heard Joan moan and say, “Go in and out of my cunt with your fingers; slowly at first and then increase the speed so that you are pounding me.” Sandra did as she was told.

The next ten or fifteen minutes were filled with passion. Their antics excited both of us. He fingered me and I grabbed hold of his shaft. Both bodies were things of beauty as their femaleness was displayed before us in various ways. Sandra was fingering and kissing and Joan was caressing her everywhere she could. My man’s solid shaft head was shiny wet with juices that had seeped out of the opened slit at its top. He withdrew his finger from me and put it into my mouth to suck. I was shocked to be as wet as I was. All this was so unbelievable! Here I was a straight woman, yet still able to be aroused by a torrid lesbian scene.

Sandra changed tactics then. While keeping her fingers moving in Joan’s vagina, she took her other hand and pulled one of Joan’s legs over her shoulder to get at her anus. She pushed her face into Joan’s behind and lavishly kissed and licked and sucked her there. The combination of finger and tongue seemed to be just what was wanted. Joan was squirming. It was clear that Joan’s moment was arriving! Sandra’s fingers were going in and out of Joan feverishly; her tongue was reaming her back hole. Suddenly, Joan erupted. She screamed, “Fuck me; fuck me!”

She came, and came again; each orgasm apparently getting stronger, followed by a few smaller ones. When they stopped, Sandra’s fingers came out and her hand seemed to be drenched from Joan’s juices. With her legs still wide open, Joan exclaimed, “That was sensational!” Sandra reached over and planted lingering kisses on Joan’s very wet vagina, licking her several times as we watched less than a foot away.

She turned to us and we saw a victorious and sexually gratified look on Sandra’s face. And then she shifted her body on the bed for my man’s benefit. Scooting up to sit up against the headboard, she spread her legs and then brought them up so that her feet were flat on the mattress. My man could easily see Sandra’s entrance glistening from playing with herself and loving Joan’s body. I looked as intently as he did. Looking straight into his eyes, Sandra took her hands and slowly widened her vagina so he could see deep inside. I’m pretty sure he was tempted to lean over and lick her. I am glad he didn’t. Her motivation for doing this, I believe, was to provide him every opportunity to see a woman in all her intimate glories!

Joan left the bed and came to me. As she approached, I could see love juices shining bright on her inner thighs and pubic hair. She leaned forward so that her breasts hung down only inches away from my face. In the gay days I would have reached over and sucked them. She moved my legs apart and then very briefly slid her hand up and down my wet pubic hair and vagina. I felt her middle finger pressing on my entrance as she did. At the same time, she took the index finger on her other hand and scooped up cum that had seeped out of the slit on the top of my man’s penis. She licked it off. Both acts done as if to say: “Thanks for inviting me.” Somehow, I felt those two gestures were appropriate. In my mind, the magic of this evening made everything we did suitable and pleasurable. What was done for my man – and certainly to me - fit in with my attitude that there are no barriers in love-making – as long as there is no physical or emotional pain involved.

Joan took Sandra with her to the bathroom. As they went, Joan said: “Both of you get back on the bed crossways and spread your legs when we return with washcloths.” We did as we were told and reveled in this amazing experience that had turned fantasy into a reality – at least that is what we told each other later that night. The girls returned with soapy wet wash cloths and dry towels; we spread our legs. Joan explained, “I know you’ll shower, but we want one more treat by washing you.” She worked on my man and Sandra serviced me. They lifted our legs straight up to clean off the residue of sex on and around our front and rear openings. It was no ordinary washing. My, oh my, how sensual were her cleansing touches! Ooh! And I could hear him murmuring pleasurable sounds, too. I felt very sexy and happy, and decided it was a nice way to end this extraordinary love session.

When they finished, Joan and Sandra performed their own ablutions. However, they washed each other’s private parts in ways that were highly sensual. “Good for them,” I thought. Their legs spread as they dealt with each other’s vagina and backside. Moving breasts and moving hands and various sexy exposures were the order of the moment. I noticed his fascination at the showing of their shapely bodies so intimately. These two, despite being gay, knew that a pretty woman’s nakedness – no matter what she is doing - turns on a man.

Afterwards and still undressed, we each poured ourselves a nightcap. The energy generated the past few hours was very much present. I believe it caused us ladies, as we sipped our drinks, to independently pull our legs up onto our chairs and expose the essence of our womanhood. What a sexual sight we must have been for him to see three highly gratified vaginas staring him in the face!

Drinks finished, Joan and Sandra dressed. He watched them as they put on and adjusted their bras and pantyhose and then their outer clothing. They bid us good night at the door and left. Before they did, I thanked Joan with a kiss on the cheek at the door – she patted my bare behind. I smiled appreciatively at Sandra and gave her a hug – she kissed my neck.

When the door was shut I turned to my man and said, “This was what some people would probably call an orgy. I know you loved it and I, too, found it surprisingly erotic and gratifying - a fabulous experience for both of us. It was obvious that you liked seeing them make love to me; to say nothing about the obvious enjoyment you had with my behind. Perhaps, we should do this again. However we decide in the future, I am glad we did it tonight. Darling, this fantasy turned out to be in real life a very exciting time for you and for me.”

I kissed him and cupped his genitals. He began to squeeze both my breasts softly and whispered, “You are a gem among women.”

We went toward our bed…showers would have to wait.

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