On the surface, things at home seem OK; my husband John seems content with my, or our, romp in bed with my friend Paul. But I have some misgivings, largely because my relationship with Paul will now be fraught with complications.

I have already received texts from him expressing his joy at our getting together and hoping for a repeat. I have not responded yet because I know that I do not really want to get into a sexual relationship with him.

Also, John’s forgetfulness and occasional depression are changing our relationship greatly. Once the leader and guide of our menage, has now become almost child-like, needing to be reminded frequently of dates and appointments, and names.

Periodically, he complains that I treat him like a six-year-old, and he is not entirely wrong. I often have to stop myself from explaining something to him that he knows better than I do.

This parenting role is at once frustrating and empowering for me. I feel less and less need to consult with him about my plans and ideas, yet he asks me to give him detailed schedules when I leave home.

Hence, one day as we had our morning cuddle in bed, and he asked when I planned to get together with Paul again, I decided to rip the bandage off that touchy subject.

“I don’t plan to have sex with Paul again,” I told him. “It was a bad idea from the outset. He and I have a different sort of connection, which I hope we can reestablish after I come clean with him.

“I do, however, plan to have Peter come and stay with us; you remember him, don’t you?” This was met with a long silence. I could see the light go out of his eyes.

“The guy I don’t trust, you mean?” The dismay was obvious in his tone.

“I know, but I hope you trust me, your loving wife of many years.”

He looked askance at me. “You remember, don’t you, what happened in Old Orchard? That turned out to be a sort of test, and you flunked it.”

He lay looking at me, daring me to contradict his characterization of the events. I paused in order to collect my thoughts. How should I go about this? I wondered. I decided to take it head-on.

“Don’t you remember, you set that up. You backed out of his invitation, in order to play golf, and sent me up alone.” He was stiff in my arms, unyielding.

“I don’t remember telling you it was OK to fuck him, or to spend the night with him. You made those decisions on your own, no prior discussion of the idea, no phone call to check with me. I think that is called adultery. You made a cuckold of me, to use the old term.”

“John, let’s work this out before we get into a serious situation.” He grumbled something about it already being serious to him.

Trying to be as gentle and kind as I could, I guided him through the specifics of that day, including his texts and, ultimately, his participation in the sex. After getting his acknowledgement of the facts, I broached the subject of Peter’s upcoming visit.

“Darling, I know it’s hard to accept that ageing is affecting many things about your life, and I want to assure you that I will remain by your side to help you through.

“I hope that you can repay that dedication by letting me augment our sex life in the ways that I prefer. For now, that means having Peter come stay with us for a few days.”

“And you want him to fuck you in our bed?” Violating the sanctity of our marriage bed bothered John, but I was not going to make concessions to his territorial wishes; it was time for some tough love.

“Darling, is the bed so sacrosanct that we can’t welcome a friend to share it with us? I may want to fuck him wherever the mood strikes; and I may want you to participate as well. Please give it a try. I think you will come to like Peter, as you did when you first met him.

“I don’t know if my infatuation with Peter will last. It may be short-lived, but I want to play it out. And he may tire of me soon; the novelty of a mature sex partner may not hold up against his younger ones.”

Of course, this entire conversation was accompanied by my hand stroking John’s abdomen, cock and balls. He had definitely become tumescent, which told me it was OK to proceed.

“All this sex talk is making me horny, darling. I’d love for you to lick my pussy while I tell you some things that I would like to happen.”

Sure enough, he eagerly got between my legs and proceeded to bring me to a lovely orgasm. He even got aroused enough that his cock could slip partially between my pussy lips and cum in my vagina as I described a threesome with Peter.

A curious fact is that in John’s present condition, when he cums, he produces lots of jism and his spasms are powerful and long-lasting. It is hard going to reach his orgasm, though, usually needing me to talk of being fucked while he watches.

Nonetheless, I still crave a good, hard cock, pulsing deep in my pussy. I actually thought of going out to see if I could meet someone in a bar. Thankfully, my wiser head prevailed.

For the next few weeks, we shared fantasies involving Peter and even engaged in phone sex with him once. John became more comfortable with Peter and the idea of me fucking him.

All this play acting with John elevated Peter in my mind to a near god; his cock grew to epic proportions and his lovemaking skill reached pornographic levels. I was in nearly constant arousal awaiting his visit.

Eventually, Peter told us that he was ready to visit and asked if he could bring a friend.

“A friend? Male or female?” I asked, taken aback.

“Male, of course. I wouldn’t bring coals to Newcastle. You are quite enough woman for me.”

“Well, our sleeping accommodations are limited; would you sleep together?” My little joke was strained.

“I hoped I would be sleeping with you…” pause. “Just kidding, he will get a hotel room. We are going to hike in the Grand Canyon before coming to you. We should arrive next mid-week.”

The wait was torture; I decided to be celibate until his arrival. John acquiesced reluctantly when I convinced him that his enjoyment would be heightened too by waiting.

One afternoon, I arrived home to find a strange car in the driveway. When I entered the den, there he was. We stood and stared at each other for a moment, until John spoke up.

“Well, go ahead, kiss him; you know you want to.” And kiss we did, a long, deep kiss with a crushing hug, then another kiss. It was as good as I remembered.

When we separated, a large black man stood up from the recliner. John introduced him as Tom, the companion. He shook my hand but my eyes hardly left Peter, who held my other one. Then John spoke again.

“Well, Tom, should we go find you a hotel room and give the lovers some privacy?” God bless my husband; he comes through at the most unexpected times.

Before they were out of the driveway, Peter enfolded me in his arms again, and my hand went to his belt buckle.

“We came straight from our campsite without a shower; I’m a bit ripe,” Peter whispered.

“I know; your pheromones are assaulting me already and making my pussy tingle. Let’s get into the shower so I can lick your body all over.”

Before Peter’s cock could get hard, I was on my knees under the deluge investigating his it with my tongue as well as my hands and eyes. Feeling it grow large and heavy in my hand brought back the memory of how it felt deep in my pussy. I was gushing.

In a big hurry; I turned the water off and grabbed a bath towel for each of us. We were barely dry when we hit the sheets of my marital bed.

“Is this OK with your husband?” Peter asked. Clearly, he was tuned into John’s territorial claims.

“It’s going to have to be, because you are going to sleep here tonight,” I said as I jumped onto the bed. He was not prone to argue.

No preliminary pussy licking was needed, I wanted his cock in me ASAP. It slid in effortlessly, spreading my cunt to its limit and making me cum when he hit bottom. My lips sought his mouth as I spasmed, plunging my tongue in.

Then it was ‘Katy bar the door’, we fucked and fucked until we were exhausted. I thought he would have to peel me off the ceiling; I don’t know how many times I came before he growled and shot his hot cum in me.

He must have stored up a week’s worth, because it seeped out around his cock before he stopped cumming. I felt it flowing down the crack of my ass onto the sheets.

I was lying in his arms, his fingers slowly strumming my nipple, my hand around his soft, gooey cock, when John strode into the bedroom. My pussy was still slowly leaking cum.

“Did you get Tom settled?” Peter asked, not stirring.

“No. He has his camping gear and an inflatable mattress is much cheaper than a hotel room. He can bunk in my bat cave. By the way,” he faced me, “he says that they always share everything,” indicating Peter.

I raised a sceptical eyebrow at Peter, who seemed unperturbed by that claim.

“Yeah, generally we do share. You might learn to like a BBC, many of my women friends have.” I was starting to get pissed off.

“You might have warned me; I don’t think I want to even try such a thing. I’m no groupie that can be passed around among your friends.”

“Calma te, calma te; nothing happens unless you want it to. We have assumed nothing; no pressure at all.”

John came close and asked, “Have I missed all the action?” He placed his hand on my mons and slid one finger through my lips into Peter’s mess. Then he smelled the finger. I sat up.

“I think the mood has slipped away. Let’s go find something for dinner.” I needed to take a step back and reexamine the situation.

As we sat at dinner, I couldn’t keep from checking Tom out. He was a handsome guy, taller and broader than Peter, with a nice smile and a seemingly gentle manner.

One thing was now certain, I was not going to kick John out of his rightful place in our bed tonight, so that Peter could fuck me again. I had a premonition how that would have gone. The guest room would have to do for him for tonight.

I awoke early next morning to the smell of coffee brewing. John often wakes in the wee hours and has coffee on the back porch in the dark. I padded barefoot to the kitchen and poured myself a cup, then went out into the warm darkness wearing just my shear nightie.

Two shapes were on the porch love seat. One shadow patted the seat between them for me to sit. It was a tight fit between them. My eyes began to adjust as I sat next to Tom in only his boxers.

His cock seemed to be hard, and very large, the head sticking out of the leg, making me wonder what he and John had been up to. I didn’t have long to wait, John reached across me and slid Tom’s pant leg up, exposing a few more inches of dark, uncut cock.

“We were just wondering what would happen if we slipped into bed with you this morning,” John said as he patted Tom’s member. “I assume Peter is still asleep.”

I almost spilled my coffee then, because Tom leaned in and kissed me. His big, soft lips felt awfully nice on mine, and his tongue began timidly probing. I couldn’t ignore the warm, wet feeling coming from my pussy into the pit of my stomach.

“I know Peter won’t mind if we have a little taste of each other,” Tom said.

“I don’t think my post menopausal pussy could take such a big cock,” I replied, hoping to put him off.

“You know, nearly all the feelings in a man’s cock are in the head. I don’t need to bury my ten inches fully to enjoy you, and I have often had to pull my punches to make sure not to hurt my partner. I am quite skilled at it.

“You may enjoy as much or as little as you like. Why don’t you make an inspection?” He slipped his boxers off ,displaying a truly magnificent member standing atop of his massive balls.

Meanwhile, John has been rubbing my pussy gently and inserting a finger just far enough to give me a thrill. I thought, what the hell, in for a nickel, in for a dime. I bent and touched the tip of that lovely brown thing with my tongue, eliciting a moan of approval from Tom, and a “Yes!”, from John.

I could barely get the head in my mouth, but I loved feeling the rim of his glans slipping past my lips while I slid his foreskin back. This is pretty damned nice, I thought. Soon, my nightie was on the ground.

Just then, I was gently nudged aside by my husband. I watched him grasp that huge member in one hand, cup those big balls in the other, and slip a healthy six inches of Tom’s cock into his mouth, gagging slightly.

When I looked up at Tom’s face, his eyes were closed; I kneeled up on the seat and pressed my mouth to his. His large hand slid over my mons, and his finger slid into me. My erect nipples thrilled when they touched his chest.

“You promise to be gentle?” I asked.

“Why don’t you climb onto my lap and take control? You set the limits.” John helped me climb over Tom’s legs and held his cock to line me up.

At first, I thought it couldn’t go in; I sat on the tip for what seemed like minutes, rocking my pelvis back and forth until my pussy slowly adjusted and let me settle a bit. Tom sucked one of my nipples, and John took the other.

That sent a signal to my abdomen to relax and accept more. The initial pain morphed into a pleasant throb, and more brown cock entered me. Tom kissed me, again with those soft lips and coffee-tasting tongue.

John moved behind us and grasped my buns, helping me raise and lower until I had all but about two inches of Tom in me. My husband’s fingers gently pulled my outer pussy lips open and sometimes touched my clit, sending thrills to my core.

I felt John pressing against my back and kissing my neck; his warm body touching me, made me feel secure and loved. Was that a firm cock insinuating itself on my ass?

A new feeling, unlike any I have ever felt, pulsed up my abdomen, then I commenced to cum. I could not hold myself up, I slumped onto Tom’s shoulder and let the men move me; I was a limp rag polishing Tom’s magnificent pole, and leaving a trail of cream on it.

“Can I cum in you?” Tom whispered, “I’m getting close.”

“Oh god, yes! Give it all to me, deep in my pussy,” I now had his full length bumping my uterus.

John added, “Yes, Tom, pump her full of your hot spunk; her pussy is yours now!”

Tom suited action to word and, with a groan, let loose a stream of cum deep in me. I swear I could feel his glans expanding and contracting with his pulses.

His eruption was matched by a spurt of John’s cum on my ass, his surprisingly firm cock head was pressing on my sphincter, trying to gain entrance.

I must have yelled loudly, for when I came to again, Peter was standing beside us stroking his hard cock and smiling broadly. “They say, once you go black….” He leaned in and kissed me on the mouth.

John added his two cents, “That was so beautiful, Phoebe.”

When I tried to get up, my abdominal muscles were weak from so many orgasms. I lay on Tom, enjoying the warmth of him, and wondering what to do next. Gradually, his cock softened and, followed by a gush of our combined juices, fell out of me, leaving a disappointed void.

In that moment, I felt a rush of affection for my three men, each of whom had brought his special beneficence into my life.

John rose and left to get towels for the mess we had made, but not before I turned my head and kissed his mouth. “Thank yo,u darling, I love you,” I whispered.

Fortunately, the men sensed that I was at sea and made no further demands on me. Eventually, I was able to go make breakfast for them. They insisted that I do so naked, and every time I got within reach, one of them would kiss my pussy. I felt like a queen (a black cock queen?). Hmmm…