Come Share With Us

"No, that's all normal. We'll see."

Dinner was nice. Margie entertained us with her stories as we sat in the living room. Then, once when she was leaning and reaching for her wine glass, she froze with a gasp. "My goddamn back locks up sometimes this way," she said, her voice tight with pain.

"Bobby, see if you can work that out for her, okay?" To Margie, she said, "Bobby gives the best massages. You should have him do you too. It's best if you can be naked so the oil doesn't ruin your clothes. It helps him, too with smooth strokes." She gave Margie a wicked smile. "It's nicer, too for us both, because he has the best touch of any man I've ever known. He can put me right to sleep sometimes." She grinned at me before adding, "Or not to sleep, just feeling really good."

"Naked? Oh, I'm not sure I could do that." She gulped the rest of her wine and Cindy refilled her glass. After chugging about half of it, she glanced at me shyly. "Well, maybe. I'll think about it. He really worked that knot out fast though. And he is very handsome." She worked her head all around and stretched and relaxed her back.

"Like I said, he has magic hands," Cindy joked. "You should see what he can do...oops. I shouldn't talk about that."

"What, dear? We're friends."

"Oh, no, it's too...risqué," Cindie said.

I stepped in. "We're married, Margie," I said. "I give Cindy what she calls a 'wife massage'." She looked at me a few seconds, then burst out laughing. She turned deep red and swigged the rest of her wine.

"Oh, my, Bob. I get it now. After all my husbands, there isn't much...well, I get it." She decided to leave not too long after that. We both took an arm and helped her across the street since she was noticeably drunk. Cindy went inside to make sure she got to bed while I went home.

Back at the house, Cindy asked me what I thought. I replied, "There's a kind of repressed sexuality there. I'd try her. I think she'd be willing, it felt like it, anyway. She said her husband died how many years ago?"

"Seven."

"Maybe she puts on her little shows for somebody specific, like Max next door." Max was about sixty, married unhappily. "I had no way of seeing anybody else watching, just as I was invisible to everybody."

"I guess maybe if she had friends she'd be happier. I think I'll go see her more often. Get to know her better."

"Just let me know what kind of wine she likes the most," I joked.

"No. really, Bobby. She might swallow too much, or the wrong kind, of medicine some night after too much wine and just die in her sleep. Somebody should be taking care of her."

"Uh-oh," I said. "Don't turn this into a crusade, Cindy," I cautioned her. "We're offering friendship and maybe sex, not any other 'caregiving'. I think she must have money, if she can afford to live the way she does, without working. The yard is cared for and the house looks well taken care of. She could probably hire a caregiver."

"No, no. I just feel bad for her."

"She seems content enough, so far. We can be her friends, but don't let her get to relying on you. We can invite her for dinner sometimes, and help her home after the wine. I'll give her a massage if she wants one." Margie did look really good for a gal as old as she was. I'd like to see her close-up without her clothes, the way I did from fifty feet away that night.

So the days and weeks passed. Cindy did go visit Margie a few times. She always took some wine along and they had long talks.

Sometimes some leftovers, too, which I enjoyed. Margie told her about the way things were in the sixties. I was born in '59, but by the time I became consciously aware of things, it was the mid-sixties. Even my parents talked about how things were changing. And since then, it's all moved faster and faster.

Margie and Cindy made dinner one night at Margie's house. It was a Friday, so I brought two bottles of Margie's favorite wine as well as a bottle of Jameson's for me. Cindy likes that, too.

By that time, my clothes were becoming 'heavier', or feeling more constrictive. Normally I'd be nude by six o'clock, or shortly after, on any night. On Friday nights, I hoped to stay nude until Monday morning. Cindy seemed to be feeling the same. We ate, and sitting down afterward made the feeling ease off. I'd never heard of going naked being addictive, but that's what it seemed like.

Living alone for so long, Margie loved to talk. She swilled wine and Cindy drank more slowly along with her. Cindy made sure I had beer and I had a few shots of whiskey.

Finally, I was loose enough to pipe up and say, "Margie, usually Cindy and I go nude on nights at home, and especially on weekends. Sitting here on a Friday night, fully dressed, is making me feel very uncomfortable. Would you mind if I at least took my shirt off? That would help."

She looked at me for a second before laughing. "Of course you may, Bobby. I've seen shirtless men all my life. Also, I wouldn't want any guest feeling uncomfortable in my home." So I took my shirt off and sat there a while with them. Then Margie said, "Bobby said you both went nude, Cindy. Are you feeling the same discomfort?"

"Well, yes, Margie, I am, actually," Cindy replied.

"Then go ahead and strip down, you two. We're all friends now. It wouldn't be the first time I saw naked people after all." Cindy looked at me and I looked back. She shrugged and stood up. She took her top and shorts off. After getting out of my shoes and socks, I stood up and dropped my pants. I haven't worn underwear since I was thirty. I folded my pants and set them aside. My dick was not completely soft and it attracted Margie's attention.

"Do you have a couple of towels we can sit on, Margie?" Cindy asked.

"Yes," Margie said, her eyes never leaving my groin area. "Bring three, dear, from the hall closet." Her eyes never left my nakedness.

Cindy brought the towels and handed me one. She folded one for her chair, then looked at our friend. "Margie? You asked for three. Here's the last one." She held it out and, as Margie took it, I saw Cindy wink at her. Margie stood up and went down the hall with the towel.

When she was gone, I looked at Cindy. "Don't get upset, Bobby. But I happened to tell her that you saw her nude 'show' and that it made you hard. She almost drooled." So I'm a live display now, just as Margie decided to be on her own that night. I'd usually be upset if she accidentally blurted something like that out. But these were unusual circumstances.

In a few minutes, Margie appeared in the hallway. She held the towel like a curtain in front of herself. I was pretty sure she was naked because she was barefoot now -- and her face was a brighter red than could be blamed on the wine.

Reaching her chair, she lowered the towel and began to fold it for the chair. I watched her move, and the way her body bent and leaned gracefully. I got hard. I'd already been about halfway there anyway. She must have been a knockout fifty years ago. She wasn't bad these days.

When Margie finally got seated, she reached for her wine, while she blushed a little brighter yet. She glanced toward me. I was seated so she couldn't see lower than my nipples. She looked at mine and I looked at her larger, dark ones. She turned a brighter red and gulped her wine. "Oh, my, Bobby. Would you please stand up? Just for a second...please?" I stood, facing her.

"That's...that's just...magnificent, is the only thing I can say. Cindy, you are so lucky to have Bobby's dick to play with." I was pleasantly surprised at her language and grateful for the compliment.

"Thank you, Margie," I said. "I'd hoped you were undressing in the bedroom. My dick knew it was going to be seen by a very attractive woman it didn't really know...yet." My words made her blush renew itself. I hoped the 'yet' registered with her.

She could feel her own heat. "They used to say that blushing made a woman look younger." (A refill and a gulp of wine.) "With the way this feels, and the thoughts that are running through my mind," (here she caressed her red cheek,) "I'll have the face of a thirty year old."

There it was. She acknowledged her own desires and admitted the sight of my hard cock made her horny.

Cindy rose and crossed the room. She leaned down and gave Margie a soft kiss on the lips. She stood up and turned to me. "Bobby, why don't you give Margie a massage now? She's naked and I need to do some stuff at home." It was after eleven o'clock at night by then.

So Cindy picked up her clothes, kissed me and strode out the front door naked as a baby, leaving the door wide open. We only lived across the street, but it was still a brazen thing to do. Maybe Max saw her.

I closed the door after I saw Cindy move into the shadows around our back door. It didn't occur to me until later that I had been standing there, as exposed to view as Cindy had been, and just as naked. A quick check showed all the houses were dark, though.

Turning to Margie, I saw she was out of wine again. I brought another bottle from the kitchen. I was sure her eyes followed the movement of my ass as I walked out to the kitchen. I knew she was watching the bobbing of my stiff cock as I walked back in.

After filling her glass, I moved my towel and Cindy's to the couch. The whiskey was there and my glass. Margie seemed shy suddenly. "Margie, why don't you come over here? Sit on Cindy's towel. I feel like there's too much distance between us. We can finish our drinks and then I'll do you -- your massage, I mean." I suggested. She got up and quickly sat next to me on Cindy's towel.

"What's the thing with the towels?" she asked me.

"Oh, that's just for sanitary reasons. So our bare behinds aren't contaminating your furniture. It's a number one rule for nudists."

"Oh, that makes sense. Besides, I know that girls leak sometimes," she grinned.

I laughed and realized we hadn't physically touched yet. The only times we had touched were that time I relaxed her cramp at our house, and hugs hello and goodbye. I wasn't sure about the present situation, though. If I was going to massage her, she should become familiar with me touching her. Especially if she wanted a 'wife massage', the equivalent of a 'premium happy ending' massage for men.

I offered her some whiskey. She accepted. "Just a tiny bit, though. I used to drink bourbon with my second husband. It makes me drunk too fast. That's why I just drink wine now."

I poured about half a shot into the same glass I'd used. "How's that?" I asked.

"Oh, that may be too much. I'll just sip it," and she did. A few minutes later, she emptied the glass.

"Uh, honey, that wasn't a sip," I said.

"Oh! Bobby, you called me honey! That sounds so nice after all this time. Would you like to give me a massage now?" She asked if I 'would like to 'give her a massage'. She didn't ask if I would, but if it was my wish. It was.

"Margie, I'd love to feel my hands sliding over your gorgeous, oily body." I took her hand, rubbing the back with my other hand.

She sat with eyes closed for a few seconds, then swiped at a tear. She squeezed my hand. "Bobby...I...I think I leaked a bit on Cindy's towel," she smiled at me. It made her look a decade younger. I laughed kindly at her 'leaking'. I stood up. I gave her a full body hug -- my hard dick against her belly and all.

"The bedroom would be best, so you can lie flat," I said. She didn't move.

"Could I have a little more whiskey first? I may need it. I haven't been touched anywhere for ten years. Just that hug made me light-headed."

"Of course," I said and picked up the glass and bottle. She held the glass as I poured. "Say 'when'," I said. She let me pour a good sized shot. She drank most of it, leaving a small brown quarter inch. She breathed in a whoosh and let it out slowly.

"I'm sorry I'm so nervous. I know you're a good man and you only want to help me feel good. I just can't help it."

"Margie, it's okay," I said, finally managing to pull her to her feet. "I'll enjoy it, too, believe me. I love feeling naked female skin under my hands."

"Last door at the end of the hall," she said. We held hands as she led me to her bedroom. She went into her private bathroom and came back with some baby oil. "Is this okay?" she asked.

"It will work, but, do you have any olive oil?"

"Yes, in the kitchen over the stove." I went and retrieved a half full bottle of Extra Virgin oil. Perfect. If it gets anywhere I plan to put my tongue, it will taste better than baby oil.

"Good. This is better for your skin anyway," I said.

While I was gone, Margie had pulled the blankets down and covered the sheet with towels. As I came in, her eyes locked onto my still stiff cock. She was sitting on the bed with the bloom some people get in their cheeks when they're drinking. She took a deep breath. "May I touch you, Bobby? I mean, since you're going to be touching me in a minute?" I smiled and stepped close enough for her to grasp my shaft. She did. Squeezing and stroking, she played with it.

She raised her eyes to look at me. "I need to ask. What do you plan to do to me?"

"That's completely up to you. I can simply massage you and moisturize your skin with olive oil. If you want me to do more, I would be honored to give you what Cindy calls a 'wife massage' and masturbate you. If you want even more, I'll lick you and make love to you completely. Cindy told me she would like to share as much of me with you as you want."

Margie's face had colored as I spoke. She never let go of me, though. She swallowed and stared into my eyes. "Cindy is okay with all this? More than just a massage, I mean."

"Yes. I'd rather she was here to help me please you, but if you'd rather not..."

"Oh! Please, can you get her back here? I would be more comfortable." I gently eased my cock from her grasp and went to get my phone. Cindy was there in what seemed like seconds. She slipped her shorts and tee shirt off and we returned to the bedroom.

"Thank you, Cindy. I hope you got your chores done," Margie said. She was lying face down on the bed, ready for her massage.

Cindy bent to kiss her again. "I just wanted to give you some time with Bobby. He's a pretty great guy, huh?"

"Oh you're both wonderful friends and neighbors. You make me feel...well, I don't know the words. You make me feel younger, surely, but there's more than that."

"I know. This is nice for us too. And I think I know how you feel. Just relax and enjoy it."

Cindy sat next to her and watched as I massaged Margie. Running my hands slowly over her body, through all the creases and folds some women acquire over time, made me throb. Margie's age didn't matter. Her fat didn't bother me. Like Nasty Nan, and even more like Cindy, she was a sensual woman deep inside no matter what was on the outside. I looked forward to our happy ending together. Cindy's watching presence was a great perk for me, too.

Over the next few minutes, I covered Margie with oil, front and back. I made sure she felt my hands move slowly along the crease between her pubic mound and her thighs. I spent a lot of time on her meaty ass cheeks, assuring that the oil dripped down her crack and over her pucker and her protruding pussy lips. That was followed by the edge of my hand and fingers.

By the time I was about to masturbate her, she was face up with oily tits sporting hard and tingling nipples, and more oil, all down her body to include her feet. She was breathing deeper and at a faster rate. Cindy stood up and began to rub her legs while I kneaded her breasts, especially her rubbery nipples. Margie gasped. Her eyes opened lazily and she watched our four hands moving intimately over her nakedness. Cindy stared right into her eyes as she ran a hand down and along Margie's oily slit. I knew Cindy fingered her a bit, because Margie gasped again and squeezed her eyes closed, curling her hips up in happy acceptance.

Finally, Cindy left the field to me again. She moved up close to Margie's head. She massaged those melon sized tits and pinched the nipples. "Margie, your nipples look delicious. May I suck them?" Cindy was very polite. I began to stroke Margie's slippery slit.

"Oh, God help me, YES!" She had her first orgasm then when Cindy's mouth sucked her tit. Cindy kept licking. She sucked all the oil from Margie's tits, licking them all over. She left a love bite on the inner bulge of each one. Margie came again as Cindy kissed her again -- that time with tongue. Then I got onto the bed between Margie's legs. She opened her eyes and watched me bend her legs and move them wide apart.

I lay down to eat her hairy cunt. I parted the silvery white hair to bare her labia and dove in. She gasped and moaned. She yelled out as I reached my fingers in and found her G-spot. I sucked on her small clit and tickled her G-spot. She came hard and released a small squirt of juice into my face. I caught some of it but a lot just dripped off. "I'm....sorry...B-Bobby!" she apologized. "That wasn't...pee..."

I laughed. "Margie, that was spectacular! I loved it! I'd have enjoyed it if it was pee, too." Cindy, too congratulated the old lady, but with a side glance at me.

"I have only gotten that turned on twice in my life," she told our naked neighbor.

"It's never happened to me before," Margie said. "Bobby, you could be the richest gigolo in the world with your talents." By then we were all lounging comfortably on the bed. There was no more self-consciousness in Margie.

At her suggestion Cindy went out and brought back the Jameson's and three glasses. She set it all on Margie's dressing table and poured us all a pretty stiff drink.

I sipped mine. My dick hurt from being so stiff for so long. I love the burn of good whiskey in my throat. It overshadowed the pain in my dick for a few seconds.

After we drank, Margie glanced at my dick and said she was ready for the 'happiest ending', "If it's still available."

Cindy helped make sure Margie's pussy was ready for me by making sure she could get three fingers into Margie. She guided me to my goal and started me in. Then she moved back and started spinning sexually charged tales for Margie and me as she stroked the woman's oily flesh, mostly her breasts. She waited until I was sliding freely in and out of Margie's hot cunt. Then she started a long erotic story.

It got me hot. Her story was really our story. It was abut a couple who met and came to physically love a second woman. In her story, the wife's favorite act was to suck all the husband's cum from their friend. It included fictional events, increasingly bold, like going skinny dipping and sharing each other in semi-public situations.

Cindy is a great storyteller. Margie had four more climaxes (another one squirting) before I spilled my semen into her. Cindy didn't waste a minute. She licked me some, but pushed me aside and took my place to lick and suck Margie's messy cunt. Margie surprised me by tugging my cock to her mouth, where she licked me clean like an ice cream cone, and seemingly with as much relish.

By the time we were all finished, we sat a second and absorbed what we'd done. Margie rose and offered more drinks. We declined, but she had another whiskey. "Watching you two has made me horny," Cindy said. "Would you mind, Margie, if I made love to my husband in your bed?"

"Not a bit, sweetie. I'll be happy to just watch, if you don't mind."

"Please, do. Hoping you'd watch us, too, helped make me so horny," Cindy said, crawling on top of me. She sucked me a second, making sure I was at maximum hardness, then she mounted me. Margie sat close to us, her eyes glued to my cock slipping in and out as Cindy did her cowgirl dance.

When Cindy saw Margie's hand busy at her own cunt, she suggested Margie ride my face while Cindy got herself off riding my cock. Margie's smile looked almost predatory as she settled her thick thighs on either side of my head, facing Cindy. She lowered her wide ass until she felt my tongue lashing away at her tender, newly sensitized lips and clit. I could feel some of what they did, but I learned more later. Cindy and Margie looked at each other, and then, Margie pulled Cindy to her and their lips opened for each other. They both rubbed tits and nibbled nipples.