Melanie's Memoirs - A Married Slut 04

Used is the proper term. After Blayne crawled off my face, Paul paid attention to me with kisses, but it wasn't personal, not like Chuck kissed me. I guess that is how a whore kisses her client, we went through the motions -- very fun motions -- without any real emotions. He pumped his dick in and out of my married twat while Blayne watched, rubbing herself, then Paul had me ride him backwards so Blayne could suck his balls and lick my clitty.

Paul's second load shot all over my pussy, and he had Blayne lick me clean. That was sexy, feeling male sperm licked off my pussylips and asscheeks by another girl.

There was a lot of sex on that bed, I couldn't remember the entire order in detail. But his cock could only fuck so much, he didn't last as long as Chuck or Roger could, and he spent most of his time fucking me not his girlfriend. I suppose, that's normal, he fucks her all the time. But I felt back for Blayne, I even asked if she had a dildo for me to use on her. Paul didn't like hearing that, at least he said, "later when I'm done." But, you know, he wasn't done until it was time for me to go back home to my quaint suburban lifestyle.

Don't get me wrong, it was hot fucking sex. I was on my fours at one point, Blayne's cunt beneath my dripping wet face while Paul was taking my doggy-style. I looked back at him, telling him his cock felt great and I wanted him to fuck me harder than my husband ever did. Blayne purred, "yeah make her wish she was married to you," given that Paul had earlier told me she wished he was married to her. Paul snickered, depriving me of his cock a bit until I begged him to fuck me more, then when he shoved into me I almost instantly had a cum. His dick did feel great inside my cunt.

So good, I didn't want to leave, he had four cums that afternoon, and I was still spread open on my back, begging him to fuck me again. Having the naked blonde with us was turning me on more, but I wanted dick, not pussy. Not a bisexual, remember. Paul, heaving with sweat, didn't want to disappoint so he mounted me one more time. It was a dry fuck, he didn't cum again, but he was hard enough for me to feel him and cum again myself. During that last fuck, I kept thinking, if I'm going to cheat on my husband, I better enjoy every bit of it.

For my first three-some since I'd started cheating on my husband, it wasn't bad. Paul's need to be boss-man kind of put a damper on it all, I definitely came out of it feeling like, that could have been better but I wasn't disappointed I went.

I did get something out of that day, however: A friend.

About a week after the threesome, probably about the week before Christmas, Blayne finally got a hold of me. By "finally," I mean, she managed to find my email address without Paul finding out. There was a lot about the two of them I didn't completely realize, at the time, but would come to be told later.

Blayne wrote me something like, hey you were a lot of fun, if you have a day free let's meet for lunch. She recommended someplace in the city I'd never even heard about, she said it would be her treat.

I have to say, I felt weird about it. Meeting men for lunch and sex was natural; meeting a younger female for lunch and sex seemed, well, not really me. Kind of an out-of-body experience. But I went to meet her, dressed in slutty lingerie under a conservative attire, expecting we'd have a short lunch then go back to her condo to fuck. I had to psych myself up for it -- I mean, get mentally prepared to have girl/girl sex. No cocks involved. It was going to be interesting, I figured, something different for me.

Didn't happen that way, we didn't fuck after that lunch. Blayne is a strange bird. She lives in her own world, paid for by a rich daddy, filled with other kids who party too much, men who want to fuck her, and friends who are probably more into themselves than Blayne is into herself (which is a lot). We didn't talk about me very much, we talked about Blayne. Where she likes to shop, what kind of alcohol she prefers, what she likes in men, what she wants to do with her life. I think she needed a sounding board, and being a married, slightly older gal from the suburbs, she saw me as more grounded and "normal" than the other people she hangs out with. (Paul, it turns out, was barely a passtime for her; while he thought Blayne was really into him, Blayne laughed off the suggestion she'd want to be his full-time woman.)

So, over a pretty ritzy French meal, we talked, and talked, and talked. Two and a half hours. Just like two gals getting together for lunch, nothing else. It started snowing outside, that kept us lingering at the restaurant a bit longer too, it was a real peaceful, friendly afternoon.

In the six months since then, I talk to Blayne a couple times a week, trade emails all the time, and have "done lunch" maybe a half-dozen times.

Oh, yeah, and we've fucked each other, girl-on-girl, after about half of those lunches, maybe not more than four times if I count correct. We don't ever really get together just for sex. It'll be like, after we're done eating or shopping, she might ask if I have anywhere to go. Or I'll ask, is she busy. We kind of look at each other with knowing smiles, and she'll say, wanna come back to my condo? Ah, the condo. We only go there for one reason -- to get naked. Even the first time back in it after the three-some, I think it was after our third lunch together, we immediately started making out and stripping each other. It's a huge, fancy condominium, and when I'm there, pretty much the only part of it I spend time in is her bed.

I still don't think I'm a bisexual. But when Blayne has her creamy thighs spread open, pulling back her knees, offering me her wet, pink vagina, I can't help myself, I bury my tongue in it. I love making her orgasm, knowing that I can pleasure a woman is even more rewarding than having established (zillions of times) that I can make a guy's cock hard and cum. Blayne has sexy, loud squeals when she cums, then moans and pets me in a delighted purr. It's sweet and sexy.

Maybe I am a bisexual now. But what's in a name? I just know what I like, I don't care what labels anyone's going to put on me. Fuck that!